A Violent Uproar now arose in the Entry, where my Landlady was well cuffing her Maid both with her Fist and Tongue. She had indeed missed the Wench from her Employment, and, after a little Search, had found her on the Puppet-show Stage in Company with the Merry Andrew,1 and in a Situation not very proper to be described.
Tho’ Grace (for that was her Name) had forfeited all Title to Modesty; yet had she not Impudence enough to deny a Fact in which she was actually surprized; she therefore took another Turn, and attempted to mitigate the Offence. ‘Why do you beat me in this manner, Mistress?’ cries the Wench. ‘If you don’t like my Doings, you may turn me away. If I am a W—e (for the other had liberally bestowed that Appellation on her) my Betters are so as well as I. What was the fine Lady in the Puppet-show just now? I suppose she did not lie all Night out from her Husband for nothing.’
The Landlady now burst into the Kitchin, and fell foul on both her Husband and the poor Puppet-mover. ‘Here, Husband,’ says she, ‘you see the Consequence of harbouring these People in your House. If one doth draw a little Drink the more for them, one is hardly made Amends for the Litter they make; and then to have one’s House made a Bawdyhouse of by such lousy Vermin. In short, I desire you would be gone To-morrow Morning, for I will tolerate no more such Doings. It is only the Way to teach our Servants Idleness and Nonsense; for to be sure nothing better can be learned by such idle Shows as these. I remember when Puppet shows were made of good Scripture Stories, as Jephthah’s Rash Vow,2 and such good Things, and when wicked People were carried away by the Devil. There was some Sense in those Matters; but as the Parson told us last Sunday, nobody believes in the Devil now-a-days; and here you bring about a Parcel of Puppets drest up like Lords and Ladies, only to turn the Heads of poor Country Wenches; and when their Heads are once turned topsy-turvy, no wonder every thing else is so.’
Virgil, I think, tells us, that when the Mob are assembled in a riotous and tumultuous Manner, and all Sorts of missile Weapons fly about, if a Man of Gravity and Authority appears amongst them, the Tumult is presently appeased, and the Mob, which when collected into one Body, may be well compared to an Ass, erect their long Ears at the grave Man’s Discourse.3
On the contrary, when a Set of grave Men and Philosophers are disputing; when Wisdom herself may in a Manner be considered as present, and administring Arguments to the Disputants; should a Tumult arise among the Mob, or should one Scold, who is herself equal in Noise to a mighty Mob, appear among the said Philosophers; their Disputes cease in a Moment, Wisdom no longer performs her ministerial Office, and the Attention of every one is immediately attracted by the Scold alone.
Thus the Uproar aforesaid, and the Arrival of the Landlady, silenced the Master of the Puppet-show, and put a speedy and final End to that grave and solemn Harangue, of which we have given the Reader a sufficient Taste already. Nothing indeed could have happened so very inopportune as this Accident; the most wanton Malice of Fortune could not have contrived such another Stratagem to confound the poor Fellow, while he was so triumphantly descanting on the good Morals inculcated by his Exhibitions. His Mouth was now as effectually stopt, as that of a Quack must be, if in the Midst of a Declamation on the great Virtues of his Pills and Powders, the Corpse of one of his Martyrs should be brought forth, and deposited before the Stage, as a Testimony of his Skill.
Instead, therefore, of answering my Landlady, the Puppet-show Man ran out to punish his Merry-Andrew; and now the Moon beginning to put forth her Silver Light, as the Poets call it (tho’ she looked at that Time more like a Piece of Copper) Jones called for his Reckoning, and ordered Partridge, whom my Landlady had just awaked from a profound Nap, to prepare for his Journey; but Partridge having lately carried two Points, as my Reader hath seen before, was emboldened to attempt a third, which was to prevail with Jones to take up a Lodging that Evening in the House where he then was. He introduced this with an affected Surprize at the Intention which Mr. Jones declared of removing; and after urging many excellent Arguments against it, he at last insisted strongly, that it could be to no manner of Purpose whatever: For that unless Jones knew which Way the Lady was gone, every Step he took might very possibly lead him the farther from her; ‘for you find, Sir,’ said he, ‘by all the People in the House, that she is not gone this Way. How much better therefore, would it be to stay till the Morning, when we may expect to meet with Some-body to enquire of?’
This last Argument had indeed some Effect on Jones, and while he was weighing it, the Landlord threw all the Rhetoric of which he was Master, into the same Scale. ‘Sure, Sir,’ said he, ‘your Servant gives you most excellent Advice: For who would travel by Night at this Time of the Year?’ He then began in the usual Stile to trumpet forth the excellent Accommodation which his House afforded; and my Landlady likewise opened on the Occasion—But not to detain the Reader with what is common to every Host and Hostess, it is sufficient to tell him, Jones was at last prevailed on to stay and refresh himself with a few Hours Rest, which indeed he very much wanted; for he had hardly shut his Eyes since he had left the Inn where the Accident of the broken Head had happened.
As soon as Jones had taken a Resolution to proceed no farther that Night, he presently retired to Rest, with his two Bed-fellows the Pocket-Book, and the Muff; but Partridge, who at several Times had refreshed himself with several Naps, was more inclined to Eating than to Sleeping, and more to Drinking than to either.
And now the Storm which Grace had raised being at an End, and my Landlady being again reconciled to the Puppet-man, who on his Side forgave the indecent Reflections which the good Woman in her Passion had cast on his Performances, a Face of perfect Peace and Tranquillity reigned in the Kitchin; where sat assembled round the Fire, the Landlord and Landlady of the House, the Master of the Puppet-show, the Attorney’s Clerk, the Exciseman, and the ingenious Mr. Partridge; in which Company past the agreeable Conversation which will be found in the next Chapter.
CHAPTER VII.
Containing a Remark or two of our own, and many
more of the good Company assembled in the Kitchin.
Though the Pride of Partridge did not submit to acknowledge himself a Servant; yet he condescended in most Particulars to imitate the Manners of that Rank. One Instance of this was his greatly magnifying the Fortune of his Companion, as he called Jones: such is a general Custom with all Servants among Strangers, as none of them would willingly be thought the Attendant on a Beggar: For the higher the Situation of the Master is, the higher consequently is that of the Man in his own Opinion; the Truth of which Observation appears from the Behaviour of all the Footmen of the Nobility.
But tho’ Title and Fortune communicate a Splendour all around them, and the Footmen of Men of Quality and of Estate think themselves entitled to a Part of that Respect which is paid to the Quality and Estates of their Masters; it is clearly otherwise with Regard to Virtue and Understanding. These Advantages are strictly personal, and swallow themselves all the Respect which is paid to them. To say the Truth, this is so very little, that they cannot well afford to let any others partake with them. As these therefore reflect no Honour on the Domestick, so neither is he at all dishonoured by the most deplorable Want of both in his Master. Indeed it is otherwise in the Want of what is called Virtue in a Mistress, the Consequence of which we have before seen: For in this Dishonour there is a Kind of Contagion, which, like that of Poverty, communicates itself to all who approach it.
Now for these Reasons we are not to wonder that Servants (I mean among the Men only) should have so great Regard for the Reputation of the Wealth of their Masters, and little or none at all for their Character in other Points, and that tho’ they would be ashamed to be the Footman of a Beggar, they are not so to attend upon a Rogue, or a Blockhead; and do consequently make no Scruple to spread the Fame of the Iniquities and Follies of their said Masters as far as possible, and this often with great Humour and Merriment. In reality, a Footman is often a Wit, as well as a Beau, at the Expence of the Gentlema
n whose Livery he wears.
After Partridge, therefore, had enlarged greatly on the vast Fortune to which Mr. Jones was Heir, he very freely communicated an Apprehension which he had begun to conceive the Day before, and for which, as we hinted at that very Time, the Behaviour of Jones seemed to have furnished a sufficient Foundation. In short, he was now pretty well confirmed in an Opinion, that his Master was out of his Wits, with which Opinion he very bluntly acquainted the good Company round the Fire.
With this Sentiment the Puppet-show Man immediately coincided. ‘I own,’ said he, ‘the Gentleman surprized me very much, when he talked so absurdly about Puppet-shows. It is indeed hardly to be conceived that any Man in his Senses should be so much mistaken; what you say now, accounts very well for all his monstrous Notions. Poor Gentleman! I am heartily concerned for him; indeed he hath a strange Wildness about his Eyes, which I took notice of before, tho’ I did not mention it.’
The Landlord agreed with this last Assertion, and likewise claimed the Sagacity of having observed it. ‘And certainly,’ added he, ‘it must be so: For no one but a Madman would have thought of leaving so good a House, to ramble about the Country at that Time of Night.’
The Exciseman pulling his Pipe from his Mouth, said, ‘He thought the Gentleman looked and talked a little wildly;’ and then turning to Partridge, ‘If he be a Madman,’ says he, ‘he should not be suffered to travel thus about the Country; for possibly he may do some Mischief. It is pity he was not secured and sent home to his Relations.’
Now some Conceits of this Kind were likewise lurking in the Mind of Partridge: For as he was now persuaded that Jones had run away from Mr. Allworthy, he promised himself the highest Rewards, if he could by any Means convey him back. But Fear of Jones, of whose Fierceness and Strength he had seen, and indeed felt some Instances, had however represented any such Scheme as impossible to be executed, and had discouraged him from applying himself to form any regular Plan for the Purpose. But no sooner did he hear the Sentiments of the Exciseman, than he embraced that Opportunity of declaring his own, and expressed a hearty Wish that such a Matter could be brought about.
‘Could be brought about?’ says the Exciseman; ‘why there is nothing easier.’
‘Ah! Sir,’ answered Partridge; ‘you don’t know what a Devil of a Fellow he is. He can take me up with one Hand, and throw me out at Window; and he would too, if he did but imagine—’
‘Pogh!’ says the Exciseman. ‘I believe I am as good a Man as he. Besides here are five of us.’
‘I don’t know what five,’ cries the Landlady, ‘My Husband shall have nothing to do in it. Nor shall any violent Hands be laid upon any Body in my House. The young Gentleman is as pretty a young Gentleman as ever I saw in my Life, and I believe he is no more mad than any of us. What do you tell of his having a wild Look with his Eyes? They are the prettiest Eyes I ever saw, and he hath the prettiest Look with them; and a very modest civil young Man he is. I am sure I have bepitied him heartily ever since the Gentleman there in the Corner told us he was crost in Love. Certainly that is enough to make any Man, especially such a sweet young Gentleman as he is, to look a little otherwise than he did before. Lady, indeed! What the Devil would the Lady have better than such a handsome Man with a great Estate? I suppose she is one of your Quality folks, one of your Townly Ladies that we saw last Night in the Puppet-show, who don’t know what they would be at.’
The Attorney’s Clerk likewise declared he would have no Concern in the Business, without the Advice of Council. ‘Suppose,’ says he, ‘An Action of false Imprisonment should be brought against us, what Defence could we make? Who knows what may be sufficient Evidence of Madness to a Jury? But I only speak upon my own Account; for it don’t look well for a Lawyer to be concerned in these Matters, unless it be as a Lawyer. Juries are always less favourable to us than to other People. I don’t therefore dissuade you, Mr. Thomson (to the Exciseman) nor the Gentleman, nor any Body else.’
The Exciseman shook his Head at this Speech, and the Puppet-show-Man said, ‘Madness was sometimes a difficult Matter for a Jury to decide: For I remember,’ says he, ‘I was once present at a Trial of Madness, where twenty Witnesses swore that the Person was as mad as a March Hare; and twenty others, that he was as much in his Senses as any Man in England—And indeed it was the Opinion of most People, that it was only a Trick of his Relations to rob the poor Man of his Right.’
‘Very likely!’ cries the Landlady, ‘I myself knew a poor Gentleman who was kept in a Mad-house all his Life by his Family, and they enjoyed his Estate, but it did them no Good: For tho’ the Law gave it them, it was the Right of another.’
‘Pogh!’ cries the Clerk, with great Contempt, ‘Who hath any Right but what the Law gives them? If the Law gave me the best Estate in the Country, I should never trouble myself much who had the Right.’
‘If it be so,’ says Partridge, ‘Felix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum.’
My Landlord, who had been called out by the Arrival of a Horseman at the Gate, now returned into the Kitchin, and with an affrighted Countenance cried out, ‘What do you think, Gentlemen? The Rebels have given the Duke the Slip, and are got almost to London—It is certainly true, for a Man on Horseback just now told me so.’
‘I am glad of it with all my Heart,’ cries Partridge, ‘then there will be no fighting in these Parts.’
‘I am glad,’ cries the Clerk, ‘for a better Reason; for I would always have Right take Place.’
‘Ay but,’ answered the Landlord, ‘I have heard some People say this Man hath no Right.’
‘I will prove the contrary in a Moment,’ cries the Clerk; ‘if my Father dies seized of a Right; do you mind me, seized of a Right, I say; Doth not that Right descend to his Son? And doth not one Right descend as well as another?’
‘But how can he have any Right to make us Papishes?’ says the Landlord.
‘Never fear that,’ cries Partridge. ‘As to the Matter of Right, the Gentleman there hath proved it as clear as the Sun; and as to the Matter of Religion, it is quite out of the Case. The Papists themselves don’t expect any such Thing. A Popish Priest, whom I know very well, and who is a very honest Man, told me upon his Word and Honour they had no such Design.’
‘And another Priest of my Acquaintance,’ said the Landlady, ‘hath told me the same Thing—But my Husband is always so afraid of Papishes. I know a great many Papishes that are very honest Sort of People, and spend their Money very freely; and it is always a Maxim with me, that one Man’s Money is as good as another’s.’
‘Very true, Mistress,’ said the Puppet-show-man, ‘I don’t care what Religion comes, provided the Presbyterians are not uppermost; for they are Enemies to Puppet-shows.’
‘And so you would sacrifice your Religion to your Interest;’ cries the Exciseman; ‘and are desirous to see Popery brought in, are you?’
‘Not I truly,’ answered the other, ‘I hate Popery as much as any Man; but yet it is a Comfort to one, that one should be able to live under it, which I could not do among Presbyterians. To be sure every Man values his Livelihood first; that must be granted; and I warrant if you would confess the Truth, you are more afraid of losing your Place than any Thing else; but never fear, Friend, there will be an Excise under another Government as well as under this.’
‘Why certainly,’ replied the Exciseman, ‘I should be a very ill Man, if I did not honour the King, whose Bread I eat. That is no more than natural, as a Man may say: For what signifies it to me that there would be an Excise-office under another Government, since my Friends would be out, and I could expect no better than to follow them? No, no, Friend, I shall never be bubbled out of my Religion in Hopes only of keeping my Place under another Government; for I should certainly be no better, and very probably might be worse.’
‘Why, that is what I say,’ cries the Landlord, ‘whenever Folks say who knows what may happen? Odsooks! should not I be a Blockhead to lend my Money to I know not who, because mayhap he may return
it again? I am sure it is safe in my own Bureau, and there I will keep it.’
The Attorney’s Clerk had taken a great Fancy to the Sagacity of Partridge. Whether this proceeded from the great Discernment which the former had into Men, as well as Things, or whether it arose from the Sympathy between their Minds; for they were both truly Jacobites in Principle; they now shook Hands heartily, and drank Bumpers of Strong Beer to Healths which we think proper to bury in Oblivion.
These Healths were afterwards pledged by all present, and even by my Landlord himself, tho’ reluctantly; but he could not withstand the Menaces of the Clerk, who swore he would never set his Foot within his House again, if he refused. The Bumpers which were swallowed on this Occasion soon put an End to the Conversation. Here, therefore, we will put an End to the Chapter.
CHAPTER VIII.
In which Fortune seems to have been in a better
Humour with Jones than we have hitherto seen her.
As there is no wholesomer, so perhaps there are few stronger Sleeping Potions than Fatigue. Of this Jones might be said to have taken a very large Dose, and it operated very forcibly upon him. He had already slept nine Hours, and might perhaps have slept longer, had he not been awakened by a most violent Noise at his Chamber-Door, where the Sound of many heavy Blows was accompanied with as many Exclamations of Murder. Jones presently leapt from his Bed, where he found the Master of the Puppet-show belabouring the Back and Ribs of his poor Merry Andrew, without either Mercy or Moderation.
The History of Tom Jones (Penguin Classics) Page 73
