by T. Smollett
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IN WHICH OUR KNIGHT IS TANTALISED WITH A TRANSIENT GLIMPSE OF FELICITY.
The success of our adventurer, which we have particularised in the lastchapter, could not fail of enhancing his character, not only among thosewho knew him, but also among the people of the town to whom he was not anutter stranger. The populace surrounded the house, and testified theirapprobation in loud huzzas. Captain Crowe was more than ever inspiredwith veneration for his admired patron, and more than ever determined topursue his footsteps in the road of chivalry. Fillet and his friend thelawyer could not help conceiving an affection, and even a profoundesteem for the exalted virtue, the person, and accomplishments of theknight, dashed as they were with a mixture of extravagance and insanity.Even Sir Launcelot himself was elevated to an extraordinary degree ofself-complacency on the fortunate issue of his adventure, and became moreand more persuaded that a knight-errant's profession might be exercised,even in England, to the advantage of the community. The only person ofthe company who seemed unanimated with the general satisfaction was Mr.Thomas Clarke. He had, not without good reason, laid it down as a maxim,that knight-errantry and madness were synonymous terms; and that madness,though exhibited in the most advantageous and agreeable light, could notchange its nature, but must continue a perversion of sense to the end ofthe chapter. He perceived the additional impression which the brain ofhis uncle had sustained, from the happy manner in which the benevolenceof Sir Launcelot had so lately operated; and began to fear it would be ina little time quite necessary to have recourse to a commission of lunacy,which might not only disgrace the family of the Crowes, but also tend toinvalidate the settlement which the captain had already made in favour ofour young lawyer.
Perplexed with these cogitations, Mr. Clarke appealed to our adventurer'sown reflection. He expatiated upon the bad consequences that wouldattend his uncle's perseverance in the execution of a scheme so foreignto his faculties; and entreated him, for the love of God, to divert himfrom his purpose, either by arguments or authority; as, of all mankind,the knight alone had gained such an ascendency over his spirits, that hewould listen to his exhortations with respect and submission.
Our adventurer was not so mad, but that he saw and owned the rationalityof these remarks. He readily undertook to employ all his influence withCrowe, to dissuade him from his extravagant design; and seized the firstopportunity of being alone with the captain, to signify his sentiments onthis subject. "Captain Crowe," said he, "you are then determined toproceed in the course of knight-errantry?" "I am," replied the seaman,"with God's help, d'ye see, and the assistance of wind and weather"--"What dost thou talk of wind and weather?" cried the knight, in anelevated tone of affected transport; "without the help of Heaven, indeed,we are all vanity, imbecility, weakness, and wretchedness; but if thouart resolved to embrace the life of an errant, let me not hear thee somuch as whisper a doubt, a wish, a hope, or sentiment with respect to anyother obstacle, which wind or weather, fire or water, sword or famine,danger or disappointment, may throw in the way of thy career. When theduty of thy profession calls, thou must singly rush upon innumerablehosts of armed men. Thou must storm the breach in the mouth of batteriesloaded with death and destruction, while, every step thou movest, thouart exposed to the horrible explosion of subterranean mines, which, beingsprung, will whirl thee aloft in air, a mangled corse, to feed the fowlsof heaven. Thou must leap into the abyss of dreadful caves and caverns,replete with poisonous toads and hissing serpents; thou must plunge intoseas of burning sulphur; thou must launch upon the ocean in a crazy bark,when the foaming billows roll mountains high--when the lightning flashes,the thunder roars, and the howling tempest blows, as if it would commixthe jarring elements of air and water, earth and fire, and reduce allnature to the original anarchy of chaos. Thus involved, thou must turnthy prow full against the fury of the storm, and stem the boisteroussurge to thy destined port, though at the distance of a thousand leagues;thou must"----
"Avast, avast, brother," exclaimed the impatient Crowe, "you've got intothe high latitudes, d'ye see. If so be as you spank it away at thatrate, adad, I can't continue in tow--we must cast off the rope, or 'waretimbers. As for your 'osts and breeches, and hurling aloft, d'ye see--your caves and caverns, whistling tuods and serpents, burning brimstoneand foaming billows, we must take our hap--I value 'em not a rottenratline; but as for sailing in the wind's eye, brother, you must give meleave--no offence, I hope--I pretend to be a thoroughbred seaman, d'yesee--and I'll be d--ned if you, or e'er an arrant that broke biscuit,ever sailed in a three-mast vessel within five points of the wind,allowing for variation and lee-way. No, no, brother, none of your tricksupon travellers--I an't now to learn my compass." "Tricks!" cried theknight, starting up, and laying his hand on the pummel of his sword,"what! suspect my honour?"
Crowe, supposing him to be really incensed, interrupted him with greatearnestness, saying, "Nay, don't--what apize!--adds-buntlines!--I didn'tgo to give you the lie, brother, smite my limbs; I only said as how tosail in the wind's eye was impossible." "And I say unto thee," resumedthe knight, "nothing is impossible to a true knight-errant, inspired andanimated by love." "And I say unto thee," hallooed Crowe, "if so be ashow love pretends to turn his hawse-holes to the wind, he's no seaman,d'ye see, but a snotty-nosed lubberly boy, that knows not a cat from acapstan--a don't."
"He that does not believe that love is an infallible pilot, must notembark upon the voyage of chivalry; for, next to the protection ofHeaven, it is from love that the knight derives all his prowess andglory. The bare name of his mistress invigorates his arm; theremembrance of her beauty infuses into his breast the most heroicsentiments of courage, while the idea of her chastity hedges him roundlike a charm, and renders him invulnerable to the sword of hisantagonist. A knight without a mistress is a mere nonentity, or, atleast, a monster in nature--a pilot without a compass, a ship withoutrudder, and must be driven to and fro upon the waves of discomfiture anddisgrace."
"An that be all," replied the sailor, "I told you before as how I've gota sweetheart, as true a hearted girl as ever swung in canvas. What thofshe may have started a hoop in rolling, that signifies nothing; I'llwarrant her tight as a nut-shell."
"She must, in your opinion, be a paragon either of beauty or virtue.Now, as you have given up the last, you must uphold her charmsunequalled, and her person without a parallel." "I do, I do uphold shewill sail upon a parallel as well as e'er a frigate that was rigged tothe northward of fifty."
"At that rate, she must rival the attractions of her whom I adore; butthat I say is impossible. The perfections of my Aurelia are altogethersupernatural; and as two suns cannot shine together in the same spherewith equal splendour, so I affirm, and will prove with my body, that yourmistress, in comparison with mine, is as a glow-worm to the meridian sun,a rushlight to the full moon, or a stale mackerel's eye to a pearl oforient." "Harkee, brother, you might give good words, however. An weonce fall a-jawing, d'ye see, I can heave out as much bilgewater asanother; and since you besmear my sweetheart, Besselia, I can as wellbedaub your mistress Aurelia, whom I value no more than old junk, porkslush, or stinking stock-fish."
"Enough, enough!--such blasphemy shall not pass unchastised. Inconsideration of our having fed from the same table, and maintainedtogether a friendly, though short intercourse, I will not demand thecombat before you are duly prepared. Proceed to the first great town,where you can be furnished with horse and harnessing, with arms offensiveand defensive; provide a trusty squire, assume a motto and device,declare yourself a son of chivalry, and proclaim the excellence of herwho rules your heart. I shall fetch a compass; and wheresoever we maychance to meet, let us engage with equal arms in mortal combat, thatshall decide and determine this dispute."
So saying, our adventurer stalked with great solemnity into anotherapartment; while Crowe, being sufficiently irritated, snapped his fingersin token of defiance. Honest Crowe thought himself scurvily used by aman whom he had cultiv
ated with such humility and veneration; and, afteran incoherent ejaculation of sea oaths, went in quest of his nephew, inorder to make him acquainted with this unlucky transaction.
In the meantime, Sir Launcelot, having ordered supper, retired into hisown chamber, and gave a loose to the most tender emotions of his heart.He recollected all the fond ideas which had been excited in the course ofhis correspondence with the charming Aurelia. He remembered, withhorror, the cruel letter he had received from that young lady, containinga formal renunciation of his attachment, so unsuitable to the whole tenorof her character and conduct. He revolved the late adventure of thecoach, and the declaration of Mr. Clarke, with equal eagerness andastonishment; and was seized with the most ardent desire of unravelling amystery so interesting to the predominant passion of his heart. Allthese mingled considerations produced a kind of ferment in the economy ofhis mind, which subsided into a profound reverie, compounded of hope andperplexity.
From this trance he was waked by the arrival of his squire, who enteredthe room with the blood trickling over his nose, and stood before himwithout speaking. When the knight asked whose livery was that he wore?he replied, "'T is your honour's own livery; I received it on youraccount, and hope as you will quit the score." Then he proceeded toinform his master, that two officers of the army having come into thekitchen, insisted upon having for their supper the victuals which SirLauncelot had bespoke; and that he, the squire, objecting to theproposal, one of them had seized the poker, and basted him with his ownblood; that when he told them he belonged to a knight-errant, andthreatened them with the vengeance of his master, they cursed and abusedhim, calling him Sancho Panza, and such dog's names; and bade him tellhis master, Don Quicksot, that, if he made any noise, they would confinehim to his cage, and lie with his mistress, Dulcinea. "To be sure, sir,"said he, "they thought you as great a nincompoop as your squire-trimtram,like master, like man; but I hope as how you will give them a Rowland fortheir Oliver."
"Miscreant!" cried the knight, "you have provoked the gentlemen with yourimpertinence, and they have chastised you as you deserve. I tell thee,Crabshaw, they have saved me the trouble of punishing thee with my ownhands; and well it is for thee, sinner as thou art, that they themselveshave performed the office, for, had they complained to me of thyinsolence and rusticity, by Heaven! I would have made thee an example toall the impudent squires upon the face of the earth. Hence, then!avaunt, caitiff! let his majesty's officers, who perhaps are fatiguedwith hard duty in the service of their country, comfort themselves withthe supper which was intended for me, and leave me undisturbed to my ownmeditations."
Timothy did not require a repetition of this command, which he forthwithobeyed, growling within himself, that thenceforward he should let everycuckold wear his own horns; but he could not help entertaining somedoubts with respect to the courage of his master, who, he supposed, wasone of those hectors who have their fighting days, but are not at alltimes equally prepared for the combat.
The knight having taken a slight repast, retired to his repose, and hadfor some time enjoyed a very agreeable slumber, when he was startled by aknocking at his chamber door. "I beg your honour's pardon," said thelandlady, "but there are two uncivil persons in the kitchen who havewell-nigh turned my whole house topsy-turvy. Not content with layingviolent hands on your honour's supper, they want to be rude to two youngladies who are just arrived, and have called for a post-chaise to go on.They are afraid to open their chamber door to get out, and the younglawyer is like to be murdered for taking the ladies' part."
Sir Launcelot, though he refused to take notice of the insult which hadbeen offered to himself, no sooner heard of the distress of the ladiesthan he started up, huddled on his clothes, and girding his sword to hisloins, advanced with a deliberate pace to the kitchen, where he perceivedThomas Clarke warmly engaged in altercation with a couple of young mendressed in regimentals, who, with a peculiar air of arrogance andferocity, treated him with great insolence and contempt. Tom wasendeavouring to persuade them, that, in the constitution of England, themilitary was always subservient to the civil power, and that theirbehaviour to a couple of helpless young women was not only unbecominggentlemen, but expressly contrary to the law, inasmuch as they might besued for an assault on an action of damages.
To this remonstrance the two heroes in red replied by a volley ofdreadful oaths, intermingled with threats, which put the lawyer in somepain for his ears.
While one thus endeavoured to intimidate honest Tom Clarke, the otherthundered at the door of the apartment to which the ladies had retired,demanding admittance, but received no other answer than a loud shriek.Our adventurer advancing to this uncivil champion, accosted him thus, ina grave and solemn tone: "Assuredly I could not have believed, exceptupon the evidence of my own senses, that persons who have the appearanceof gentlemen, and bear his majesty's honourable commission in the army,could behave so wide of the decorum due to society, of a proper respectto the laws, of that humanity which we owe to our fellow-creatures, andthat delicate regard for the fair sex which ought to prevail in thebreast of every gentleman, and which in particular dignifies thecharacter of a soldier. To whom shall that weaker, though more amiablepart of the creation, fly for protection, if they are insulted andoutraged by those whose more immediate duty it is to afford them securityand defence from injury and violence? What right have you, or any manupon earth, to excite riot in a public inn, which may be deemed a templesacred to hospitality; to disturb the quiet of your fellow-guests, someof them perhaps exhausted by fatigue, some of them invaded by distemper;to interrupt the king's lieges in their course of journeying upon theirlawful occasions? Above all, what motive but wanton barbarity couldprompt you to violate the apartment, and terrify the tender hearts of twohelpless young ladies, travelling, no doubt, upon some cruel emergency,which compels them, unattended, to encounter in the night the dangers ofthe highway?"
"Hearkye, Don Bethlem," said the captain, strutting up, and cockinghis hat in the face of our adventurer, "you may be mad as ever astraw-crowned monarch in Moorfields, for aught I care, but damme! don'tyou be saucy, otherwise I shall dub your worship with a good stick acrossyour shoulders." "How! petulant boy," cried the knight, "since you areso ignorant of urbanity, I will give you a lesson that you shall noteasily forget." So saying, he unsheathed his sword, and called upon thesoldier to draw in his defence.
The reader may have seen the physiognomy of a stockholder at Jonathan'swhen the rebels were at Derby, or the features of a bard when accosted bya bailiff, or the countenance of an alderman when his banker stopspayment; if he has seen either of these phenomena, he may conceive theappearance that was now exhibited by the visage of the ferocious captain,when the naked sword of Sir Launcelot glanced before his eyes; far fromattempting to produce his own, which was of unconscionable length, hestood motionless as a statue, staring with the most ghastly look ofterror and astonishment. His companion, who partook of his panic, seeingmatters brought to a very serious crisis, interposed with a crest-fallencountenance, assuring Sir Launcelot they had no intention to quarrel, andwhat they had done was entirely for the sake of the frolic.
"By such frolics," cried the knight, "you become nuisances to society,bring yourselves into contempt, and disgrace the corps to which youbelong. I now perceive the truth of the observation, that cruelty alwaysresides with cowardice. My contempt is changed into compassion, and asyou are probably of good families, I must insist upon this young man'sdrawing his sword, and acquitting himself in such a manner as may screenhim from the most infamous censure which an officer can undergo.""Lack-a-day, sir," said the other, "we are no officers, but prenticesto two London haberdashers, travellers for orders; Captain is a goodtravelling name, and we have dressed ourselves like officers to procuremore respect upon the road."
The knight said he was very glad, for the honour of the service, to findthey were impostors, though they deserved to be chastised for arrogatingto themselves an honourable character which they had no
t spirit tosustain.
These words were scarce pronounced, when Mr. Clarke approaching one ofthe bravadoes, who had threatened to crop his ears, bestowed such abenediction on his jaw, as he could not receive without immediatehumiliation; while Timothy Crabshaw, smarting from his broken head andhis want of supper, saluted the other with a Yorkshire hug, that laid himacross the body of his companion. In a word, the two pseudo-officerswere very roughly handled, for their presumption in pretending to actcharacters for which they were so ill qualified.
While Clarke and Crabshaw were thus laudably employed, the two youngladies passed through the kitchen so suddenly, that the knight had only atransient glimpse of their backs, and they disappeared before he couldpossibly make a tender of his services. The truth is, they dreadednothing so much as their being discovered, and took the first opportunityof gliding into the chaise, which had been for some time waiting in thepassage.
Mr. Clarke was much more disconcerted than our adventurer by theirsudden escape. He ran with great eagerness to the door, and, perceivingthey were flown, returned to Sir Launcelot, saying, "Lord bless my soul,sir, didn't you see who it was?" "Ha! how!" exclaimed the knight,reddening with alarm, "who was it?" "One of them," replied the lawyer,"was Dolly, our old landlady's daughter at the Black Lion. I knew herwhen first she 'lighted, notwithstanding her being neatly dressed in agreen joseph, which, I'll assure you, sir, becomes her remarkably well.--I'd never desire to see a prettier creature. As for the other, she's avery genteel woman, but whether old or young, ugly or handsome, I can'tpretend to say, for she was masked. I had just time to salute Dolly, andask a few questions; but all she could tell me was, that the maskedlady's name was Miss Meadows; and that she, Dolly, was hired as herwaiting-woman."
When the name of Meadows was mentioned, Sir Launcelot, whose spirits hadbeen in violent commotion, became suddenly calm and serene, and he beganto communicate to Clarke the dialogue which had passed between him andCaptain Crowe, when the hostess, addressing herself to our errant,"Well," said she, "I have had the honour to accommodate many ladies ofthe first fashion at the White Hart, both young and old, proud and lowly,ordinary and handsome; but such a miracle as Miss Meadows I never yet didsee.--Lord, let me never thrive but I think she is of something more thana human creature!--Oh! had your honour but set eyes on her, you wouldhave said it was a vision from heaven, a cherubim of beauty:--For mypart, I can hardly think it was anything but a dream--then so meek, somild, so good-natured and generous! I say, blessed is the young womanwho tends upon such a heavenly creature:--And, poor dear young lady! sheseems to be under grief and affliction, for the tears stole down herlovely cheeks, and looked for all the world like orient pearl."
Sir Launcelot listened attentively to the description, which reminded himof his dear Aurelia, and sighing bitterly, withdrew to his own apartment.
