THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES Comefcic Ibumaine THE HISTORY OF THE ADVENTURES OF JOSEPH ANDREWS AND HIS FRIEND MR. ABRAHAM ADAMS BY HENRY FIELDING Gbe Englisb ComeMe Ibumaine Masterpieces of the great English novelists in which are portrayed the varying aspects of English life from the time of Addison to the present day : a series anal- ogous to that in which Balzac depicted the man- ners and morals of his French contemporaries. "The whole town hath known it this half year' Cbe Enfllteb ComcMe Ibumatnc THE HISTORY OF THE ADVENTURES OF JOSEPH ANDREWS AND HIS FRIEND MR. ABRAHAM ADAMS BY HENRY FIELDING }!M* custom and modesty impose on her sex, soon gave an un- bridled indulgence to her passion. Her visits to Bellarmine were more constant, as well as longer, than his surgeon's : in a word, she became absolutely his nurse ; made his water- gruel, administered him his medicines ; and, notwithstanding the prudent advice of her aunt to the contrary, almost en- tirely resided in her wounded lover's apartment. The ladies of the town began to take her conduct under consideration : it was the chief topic of discourse at their tea-tables, and was very severely censured by the most part ; especially by Lindamira, a lady whose discreet and starch carriage, together with a constant attendance at church three times a-day, had utterly defeated many malicious attacks on her own reputation ; for such was the envy that Lindamira's virtue had attracted, that, notwithstanding her own strict be- haviour and strict inquiry into the lives of others, she had not been able to escape being the mark of some arrows her- self, which, however, did her no injury; a blessing, perhaps, owed by her to the clergy, who were her chief male com- panions, and with two or three of whom she had been bar- barously and unjustly calumniated. "Not so unjustly neither, perhaps," says Slipslop; "for the clergy are men, as well as other folks." The extreme delicacy of Lindamira's virtue was cruelly hurt by those freedoms which Leonora allowed herself : she said it was an affront to her sex; that she did not imagine it consistent with any woman's honour to speak to the crea- ture, or to be seen in her company; and that, for her part, she should always refuse to dance at an assembly with her, for fear of contamination by taking her by the hand. But to return to my story : as soon as Bellarmine was recovered, which was somewhat within a month from his receiving the wound, he set out, according to agreement, for 106 JOSEPH ANDREWS Leonora's father's, in order to propose the match, and settle all matters with him touching settlements, and the like. A little before his arrival the old gentleman had received an intimation of the affair by the following letter, which 1 can repeat verbatim, and which, they say, was written neither by Leonora nor her aunt, though it was in a woman's hand. The letter was in these words : — " Sir, — I am sorry to acquaint you that your daughter, Leonora, hath acted one of the basest as well as most simple parts with a young gentleman to whom she had engaged her- self, and whom she hath (pardon the word) jilted for another of inferior fortune, notwithstanding his superior figure. You may take what measures you please on this occasion ; I have performed what I thought my duty; as I have, though un- known to you, a very great respect for your family." The old gentleman did not give himself the trouble to an- swer this kind epistle ; nor did he take any notice of it, after he had read it, till he saw Bellarmine. He was, to say the truth, one of those fathers who look on children as an unhappy consequence of their youthful pleasures ; which, as he would have been delighted not to have had attend them, so was he no less pleased with any opportunity to rid him- self of the incumbrance. He passed, in the world's language, as an exceeding good father ; being not only so rapacious as to rob and plunder all mankind to the utmost of his power, but even to deny himself the conveniences, and almost neces- saries, of life; which his neighbours attributed to a desire of raising immense fortunes for his children : but in fact it was not so ; he heaped up money for its own sake only, and looked on his children as his rivals, who were to enjoy his be- loved mistress when he was incapable of possessing her, and which he would have been much more charmed with the power of carrying along with him ; nor had his children any other security of being his heirs than that the law would con- stitute them such without a will, and that he had not affection enough for any one living to take the trouble of writing one. To this gentleman came Bellarmine, on the errand I have mentioned. His person, his equipage, his family, and his estate, seemed to the father to make him an advantageous match for his daughter : he therefore very readily accepted 107 THE ADVENTURES OF his proposals : but when Bellarmine imagined the principal affair concluded, and began to open the incidental matters of fortune, the old gentleman presently changed his counte- nance, saying, he resolved never to marry his daughter on a Smithfield match; that whoever had love for her to take her would, when he died, find her share of his fortune in his coffers ; but he had seen such examples of undutifulness hap- pen from the too early generosity of parents, that he had made a vow never to part with a shilling whilst he lived. He com- mended the saying of Solomon, he that spareth the rod spoil- eth the child ; but added, he might have likewise asserted, that he that spareth the purse saveth the child. He then ran into a discourse on the extravagance of the youth of the age ; whence he launched into a dissertation on horses ; and came at length to commend those Bellarmine drove. That fine gentleman, who at another season would have been well enough pleased to dwell a little on that subject, was now very eager to resume the circumstance of fortune. He said, he had a very high value for the young lady, and would receive her with less than he would any other whatever ; but that even his love to her made some regard to worldly matters neces- sary; for it would be a most distracting sight for him to see her, when he had the honour to be her husband, in less than a coach and six. The old gentleman answered, " Four will do, four will do ; " and then took a turn from horses to ex- travagance and from extravagance to horses, till he came round to the equipage again ; whither he was no sooner ar- rived than Bellarmine brought him back to the point; but all to no purpose; he made his escape from that subject in a minute ; till at last the lover declared, that in the present situ- ation of his affairs it was impossible for him, though he loved Leonora more than tout le monde, to marry her without any fortune. To which the father answered, he was sorry that his daughter must lose so valuable a match ; that, if he had an in- clination, at present it was not in his power to advance a shilling: that he had had great losses, and been at great ex- penses on projects ; which, though he had great expectation from them, had yet produced him nothing: that he did not know what might happen hereafter, as on the birth of a son, or such accident ; but he would make no promise, nor enter 108 JOSEPH ANDREWS into any article, for he would not break his vow for all the daughters in the world. In short, ladies, to keep you no longer in suspense, Bellar- mine, having tried every argument and persuasion which he could invent, and finding them all ineffectual, at length took his leave, but not in order to return to Leonora ; he proceeded directly to his own seat, whence, after a few days' stay, he returned to Paris, to the great delight of the French and the honour of the English nation. But as soon as he arrived at his home he presently de- spatched a messenger with the following epistle to Leonora : " Adorable and Charmante, — I am sorry to have the hon- our to tell you I am not the heureux person destined for your divine arms. Your papa hath told me so with a politcsse not often seen on this side Paris. You may perhaps guess his manner of refusing me. Ah, mon Dieu! You will cer- tainly believe me, madam, incapable myself of delivering this triste message, which I intend to try the French air to cure the consequences of. A jamais! Cceur! Angel An diable! If your papa obliges you to a marriage, I hope we shall see you at Paris ; till when, the wind that flows from thence will be the warmest dans le monde, for it will consist almost en- tirely of my sighs. Adieu, ma princesse! Ah, I' amour! " Bellarmine." I shall not attempt, ladies, to describe Leonora's condition when she received this letter. It is a picture of horror, which I should have as little pleasure in drawing as you in behold- ing. She immediately left the place where she was the sub- ject of conversation and ridicule, and retired to that house I showed you when I began the story; where she hath ever since led a disconsolate life, and deserves, perhaps, pity for her misfortunes, more than our censure for a behaviour to which the artifices of her aunt very probably contributed, and to which very young women are often rendered too liable by that blameable levity in the education of our sex. " If I was inclined to pity her," said a young lady in the coach, " it would be for the loss of Horatio ; for I cannot dis- cern any misfortune in her missing such a husband as Bellar- mine." 109 THE ADVENTURES OF ' Why, I must own," says Slipslop, " the gentleman was a little false-hearted; but howsumever, it was hard to have two lovers, and get never a husband at all But pray, madam, what became of Our-asho? '" He remains, said the lady, still unmarried, and hath ap- plied himself so strictly to his business, that he hath raised, I hear, a very considerable fortune. And, what is remarkable, they say he never hears the name of Leonora without a sigh, nor hath ever uttered one syllable to charge her with her ill- conduct towards him. CHAPTER VII. A VERY SHORT CHAPTER, IN WHICH PARSON ADAMS WENT A GREAT WAY. THE lady, having finished her story, received the thanks of the company ; and now Joseph, putting his head out of the coach, cried out, " Never believe me if yonder be not our parson Adams walking along without his horse ! " — " On my word, and so he is," says Slipslop : " and as sure as two- pence he hath left him behind at the inn." Indeed, true it is, the parson had exhibited a fresh instance of his absence of mind ; for he was so pleased with having got Joseph into the coach, that he never once thought of the beast in the stable ; and, finding his legs as nimble as he desired, he sallied out, brandishing a crabstick, and had kept on before the coach, mending and slackening his pace occasionally, so that he had never been much more or less than a quarter of a mile distant from it. Mrs Slipslop desired the coachman to overtake him, which he attempted, but in vain ; for the faster he drove the faster ran the parson, often crying out, " Aye, aye, catch me if you can ; " till at length the coachman swore he would as soon attempt to drive after a greyhound, and, giving the parson two or three hearty curses, he cried, " Softly, softly, boys," to his horses, which the civil beasts immediately obeyed. But we will be more courteous to our reader than he was no JOSEPH ANDREWS to Mrs Slipslop ; and, leaving the coach and its company to pursue their journey, we will carry our reader on after par- son Adams, who stretched forwards without once looking behind him, till, having left the coach full three miles in his rear, he came to a place where, by keeping the extremest track to the right, it was just barely possible for a human creature to miss his way. This track however did he keep, as indeed he had a wonderful capacity at these kinds of bare possibilities, and, travelling in it about three miles over the plain, he arrived at the summit of a hill, whence looking a great way backwards, and perceiving no coach in sight, he sat himself down on the turf, and, pulling out his yEschylus, determined to wait here for its arrival. He had not sat long here before a gun going off very near, a little startled him ; he looked up and saw a gentleman within a hundred paces taking up a partridge which he had just shot. Adams stood up and presented a figure to the gentleman which would have moved laughter in many; for his cassock had just again fallen down below his great coat, that is to say, it reached his knees, whereas the skirts of his great coat descended no lower than half way down his thighs ; but the gentleman's mirth gave way to his surprize at beholding such a personage in such a place. Adams, advancing to the gentleman, told him he hoped he had good sport, to which the other answered, " Very little." — " I see, sir," says Adams, " you have smote one partridge ; " to which the sportsman made no reply, but proceeded to charge his piece. Whilst the gun was charging, Adams remained in silence, which he at last broke by observing that it was a delightful evening. The gentleman, who had at first sight conceived a very distasteful opinion of the parson, began, on perceiving a book in his hand and smoking likewise the information of the cassock, to change his thoughts, and made a small advance to conversation on his side by saying, " Sir, I suppose you are not one of these parts ? " Adams immediately told him, no; that he was a traveller, and invited by the beauty of the evening and the place to repose a little and amuse himself with reading. " I may as well repose myself too," said the sportsman, " for I have been in THE ADVENTURES OF out this whole afternoon, and the devil a bird have I seen till I came hither." " Perhaps then the game is not very plenty hereabouts ? " cries Adams. " No, sir," said the gentleman : " the soldiers, who are quartered in the neighbourhood, have killed it all." — " It is very probable," cries Adams, " for shooting is their profession." — " Aye, shooting the game," answered the other ; " but I don't see they are so forward to shoot our enemies. I don't like that affair of Carthagena; if I had been there, I believe I should have done other-guess things, d — n me : what's a man's life when his country demands it? a man who won't sacrifice his life for his country deserves to be hanged, d — n me." Which words he spoke with so violent a gesture, so loud a voice, so strong an accent, and so fierce a counte- nance, that he might have frightened a captain of trained- bands at the head of his company ; but Mr Adams was not greatly subject to fear; he told him intrepidly that he very much approved his virtue, but disliked his swearing, and begged him not to addict himself to so bad a custom, without which he said he might fight as bravely as Achilles did. Indeed he was charmed with this discourse ; he told the gen- tleman he would willingly have gone many miles to have met a man of his generous way of thinking; that, if he pleased to sit down, he should be greatly delighted to commune with him ; for, though he was a clergyman, he would himself be ready, if thereto called, to lay down his life for his country. The gentleman sat down, and Adams by him ; and then the latter began, as in the following chapter, a discourse which we have placed by itself, as it is not only the most curious in this but perhaps in any other book. CHAPTER VIII. A NOTABLE DISSERTATION BY MR ABRAHAM ADAMS; WHEREIN THAT GENTLEMAN APPEARS IN A POLITICAL LIGHT. I DO assure you, sir " (says he, taking the gentleman by the hand), " I am heartily glad to meet with a man of your kidney; for, though I am a poor parson, I will be bold to 112 JOSEPH ANDREWS say I am an honest man, and would not do an ill thing to be made a bishop; nay, though it hath not fallen in my way to offer so noble a sacrifice, I have not been without opportu- nities of suffering for the sake of my conscience, I thank Heaven for them ; for I have had relations, though I say it, who made some figure in the world ; particularly a nephew, who was a shopkeeper and an alderman of a corporation. He was a good lad, and was under my care when a boy ; and I believe would do what I bade him to his dying day. In- deed, it looks like extreme vanity in me to affect being a man of such consequence as to have so great an interest in an alderman ; but others have thought so too, as manifestly ap- peared by the rector, whose curate I formerly was, sending for me on the approach of an election, and telling me, if I expected to continue in his cure, that I must bring my nephew to vote for one Colonel Courtly, a gentleman whom I had never heard tidings of till that instant. I told the rector I had no power over my nephew's vote (God forgive me for such prevarication !) ; that I supposed he would give it accord- ing to his conscience; that I would by no means endeavour to influence him to give it otherwise. He told me it was in vain to equivocate ; that he knew I had already spoke to him in favour of Squire Fickle, my neighbour; and, indeed, it was true I had ; for it was at a season when the church was in danger, and when all good men expected they knew not what would happen to us all. I then answered boldly, if he thought I had given my promise, he affronted me in propos- ing any breach of it. Not to be too prolix ; I persevered, and so did my nephew, in the esquire's interest, who was chose chiefly through his means; and so I lost my curacy. Well, sir, but do you think the esquire ever mentioned a word of the church? Ne verbum qiiidem, ut ita dicam: within two years he got a place, and hath ever since lived in Lon- don ; where I have been informed (but God forbid I should believe that), that he never so much as goeth to church. I remained, sir, a considerable time without any cure, and lived a full month on one funeral sermon, which I preached on the indisposition of a clergyman ; but this by the bye. At last, when Mr. Fickle got his place, Colonel Courtly stood again ; and who should make interest for him but Mr. Fickle him- 8 113 THE ADVENTURES OF self ! that very identical Mr Fickle, who had formerly told me the colonel was an enemy to both the church and the state, had the confidence to solicit my nephew for him ; and the col- onel himself offered me to make me chaplain to his regiment, which I refused in favour of Sir Oliver Hearty, who told us he would sacrifice everything to his country ; and I believe he would, except his hunting, which he stuck so close to, that in five years together he went but twice up to parliament ; and one of those times, I have been told, never was within sight of the House. However, he was a worthy man, and the best friend I ever had ; for, by his interest with a bishop, he got me replaced into my curacy, and gave me eight pounds out of his own pocket to buy me a gown and cassock, and furnish my house. He had our interest while he lived, which was not many years. On his death I had fresh applications made to me ; for all the world knew the interest I had in my good nephew, who now was a leading man in the corporation; and Sir Thomas Booby, buying the estate which had been Sir Oliver's, proposed himself a candidate. He was then a young gentleman just come from his travels ; and it did me good to hear him discourse on affairs which, for my part, I knew nothing of. If I had been master of a thousand votes he should have had them all. I engaged my nephew in his interest, and he was elected; and a very fine parliament-man he was. They tell me he made speeches of an hour long, and, I have been told, very fine ones ; but he could never persuade the parliament to be of his opinion. Non omnia possumus omncs. He promised me a living, poor man! and I believe I should have had it, but an accident happened, which was, that my lady had promised it before, unknown to him. This, indeed, I never heard till afterwards ; for my nephew, who died about a month before the incumbent, always told me I might be assured of it. Since that time, Sir Thomas, poor man, had always so much business, that he never could find leisure to see me. I believe it was partly my lady's fault too, who did not think my dress good enough for the gentry at her table. However, I must do him the justice to say he never was ungrateful ; and I have always found his kitchen, and his cellar too, open to me : many a time, after service on a Sun- day — for I preached at four churches — have I recruited my 114 JOSEPH ANDREWS spirits with a glass of his ale. Since my nephew's death, the corporation is in other hands ; and I am not a man of that consequence I was formerly. I have now no longer any tal- ents to lay out in the service of my country ; and to whom nothing is given, of him can nothing be required. However, on all proper seasons, such as the approach of an election, I throw a suitable dash or two into my sermons ; which I have the pleasure to hear is not disagreeable to Sir Thomas and the other honest gentlemen my neighbours, who have all prom- ised me these five years to procure an ordination for a son of mine, who is now near thirty, hath an infinite stock of learning, and is, I thank Heaven, of an exceptionable life; though, as he was never at an university, the bishop refuses to ordain him. Too much care cannot indeed be taken in ad- mitting any to the sacred office ; though I hope he will never act so as to be a disgrace to any order, but will serve his God and his country to the utmost of his power, as I have endea- voured to do before him; nay, and will lay down his life whenever called to that purpose. I am sure I have educated him in those principles; so that I have acquitted my duty, and shall have nothing to answer for on that account. But I do not distrust him, for he is a good boy; and if Provi- dence should throw it in his way to be of as much consequence in a public light as his father once was, I can answer for him he will use his talents as honestly as I have done." CHAPTER IX. IN WHICH THE GENTLEMAN DESCANTS ON BRAVERY AND HE- ROIC VIRTUE, TILL AN UNLUCKY ACCIDENT PUTS AN END TO THE DISCOURSE. THE gentleman highly commended Mr Adams for his good resolutions, and told him, he hoped his son would tread in his steps; adding, that if he would not die for his country, he would not be worthy to live in it. ' I'd make np more of shooting a man that would not die for his country, than—" "5 THE ADVENTURES OF " Sir," said he, " I have disinherited a nephew, who is in the army, because he would not exchange his commission and go to the West Indies. I believe the rascal is a coward, though he pretends to be in love forsooth. I would have all such fellows hanged, sir ; I would have them hanged." Adams answered, that would be too severe ; that men did not make themselves ; and if fear had too much ascendance in the mind, the man was rather to be pitied than abhorred ; that reason and time might teach him to subdue it. He said, a man might be a coward at one time, and brave at another. " Homer," says he, " who so well understood and copied nature, hath taught us this lesson ; for Paris fights and Hector runs away. Nay, we have a mighty instance of this in the history of later ages, no longer ago than the 705th year of Rome, when the great Pompey, who had won so many battles and been hon- oured with so many triumphs, and of whose valour several authors, especially Cicero and Paterculus, have formed such eulogiums ; this very Pompey left the battle of Pharsalia be- fore he had lost it, and retreated to his tent, where he sat like the most pusillanimous rascal in a fit of despair, and yielded a victory, which was to determine the empire of the world, to Caesar. I am not much travelled in the history of modern times, that is to say, these last thousand years ; but those who are can, I make no question, furnish you with parallel in- stances." He concluded, therefore, that, had he taken any such hasty resolutions against his nephew, he hoped he would con- sider better, and retract them. The gentleman answered with great warmth, and talked much of courage and his country, till, perceiving it grew late, he asked Adams what place he in- tended for that night ? He told him, he waited there for the stage-coach. " The stage-coach, sir ! " said the gentleman ; " They are all passed by long ago. You may see the last your- self almost three miles before us." — " I protest and so they are," cries Adams ; " then I must make haste and followthem." The gentleman told him, he would hardly be able to overtake them ; and that, if he did not know his way, he would be in danger of losing himself on the downs, for it would be pres- ently dark ; and he might ramble about all night, and perhaps find himself farther from his journey's end in the morning than he was now. He advised him, therefore, to accompany 116 JOSEPH ANDREWS him to his house, which was very little out of his way, assur- ing him that he would find some country fellow in his parish who would conduct him for sixpence to the city where he was going. Adams accepted this proposal, and on they travelled, the gentleman renewing his discourse on courage, and the in- famy of not being ready, at all times, to sacrifice our lives to our country. Night overtook them much about the same time as they arrived near some bushes ; whence, on a sudden, they heard the most violent shrieks imaginable in a female voice. Adams offered to snatch the gun out of his compa- nion's hand. "What are you doing?" said he. "Doing!" said Adams ; " I am hastening to the assistance of the poor creature whom some villains are murdering." — " You are not mad enough, I hope," says the gentleman trembling : " do you consider this gun is only charged with shot, and that the rob- bers are most probably furnished with pistols loaded with bullets ? This is no business of ours ; let us make as much haste as possible out of the way, or we may fall into their hands ourselves." The shrieks now increasing, Adams made no answer, but snapt his fingers, and, brandishing his crab- stick, made directly to the place whence the voice issued ; and the man of courage made as much expedition towards his own home, whither he escaped in a very short time without once looking behind him ; where we will leave him, to contemplate his own bravery, and to censure the want of it in others, and return to the good Adams, who, on coming up to the place whence the noise proceeded, found a woman struggling with a man, who had thrown her on the ground, and had almost overpowered her. The great abilities of Mr Adams were not necessary to have formed a right judgment of this affair on the first sight. He did not therefore want the entreaties of the poor wretch to assist her; but, lifting up his crabstick, he immediately levelled a blow at that part of the ravisher's head where, according to the opinion of the antients, the brains of some persons are deposited, and which he had un- doubtedly let forth, had not Nature (who, as wise men have observed, equips all creatures with what is most expedient for them) taken a provident care (as she always doth with those she intends for encounters) to make this part of the head three times as thick as those of ordinary men who are TT7 THE ADVENTURES OF designed to exercise talents which are vulgarly called rational, and for whom, as brains are necessary, she is obliged to leave some room for them in the cavity of the skull ; whereas, those ingredients being entirely useless to persons of the heroic calling, she hath an opportunity of thickening the bone, so as to make it less subject to any impression, or liable to be cracked or broken ; and indeed, in some who are predestined to the command of armies and empires, she is supposed some- times to make that part perfectly solid. As the game cock, when engaged in amorous toying with a hen, if perchance he espies another cock at hand, immediately quits his female, and opposes himself to his rival, so did the ravisher, on the information of the crabstick, immediately leap from the woman, and hasten to assail the man. He had no weapons but what Nature had furnished him with. How- ever, he clenched his fist, and presently darted it at that part of Adams's breast where the heart is lodged. Adams stag- gered at the violence of the blow, when,- throwing away his staff, he likewise clenched that fist which we have before commemorated, and would have discharged it full in the breast of his antagonist, had he not dexterously caught it with his left hand, at the same time darting his head (which some modern heroes of the lower class use, like the battering-ram of the antients, for a weapon of offence ; another reason to admire the cunningness of Nature, in composing it of those impenetrable materials) ; dashing his head, I say, into the stomach of Adams, he tumbled him on his back ; and, not having any regard to the laws of heroism, which would have restrained him from any farther attack on his enemy till he was again on his legs, he threw himself upon him, and, lay- ing hold on the ground with his left hand, he with his right belaboured the body of Adams till he was weary, and indeed till he concluded (to use the language of fighting) " that he had done his business ; " or, in the language of poetry, " that he had sent him to the shades below ; " in plain English, " that he was dead." * Eut Adams, who was no chicken, and could bear a drubbing as well as any boxing champion in the universe, lay still only to watch his opportunity; and now, perceiving his antagonist to pant with his labours, he exerted his utmost force at once, 118 JOSEPH ANDREWS and with such success that he overturned him, and became his superior; when, fixing one of his knees in his breast, he cried out in an exulting voice, " It is my turn now ; " and, after a few minutes' constant application, he gave him so dexterous a blow just under his chin that the fellow no longer retained any motion, and Adams began to fear he had struck him once too often ; for he often asserted he should be con- cerned to have the blood of even the wicked upon him. Adams got up and called aloud to the young woman. " Be of good cheer, damsel," said he, " you are no longer in danger of your ravisher, who, I am terribly afraid, lies dead at my feet; but God forgive me what I have done in defence of innocence!" The poor wretch, who had been some time in recovering strength enough to rise, and had afterwards, dur- ing the engagement, stood trembling, being disabled by fear even from running away, hearing her champion was victori- ous, came up to him, but not without apprehensions even of her deliverer; which, however, she was soon relieved from by his courteous behaviour and gentle words. They were both standing by the body, which lay motionless on the ground, and which Adams wished to see stir much more than the woman did, when he earnestly begged her to tell him by what misfortune she came, at such a time of night, into so lonely a place. She acquainted him, she was travelling towards London, and had accidentally met with the person from whom he had delivered her, who told her he was likewise on his journey to the same place, and would keep her company ; an offer which, suspecting no harm, she had accepted; that he told her they were at a small distance from an inn where she might take up her lodging that evening, and he would show her a nearer way to it than by following the road ; that if she had suspected him (which she did not, he spoke so kindly to her), being alone on these downs in the dark, she had no human means to avoid him ; that therefore she put her whole trust in Providence, and walked on, expecting every moment to arrive at the inn ; when on a sudden, being come to those bushes, he desired her to stop, and after some rude kisses, which she resisted, and some entreaties, which she rejected, he laid violent hands on her, and was attempting to execute his wicked will, when, she thanked G — , he timely 119 THE ADVENTURES OF came up and prevented him. Adams encouraged her for say- ing she had put her whole trust in Providence, and told her, he doubted not but Providence had sent him to her deliver- ance, as a reward for that trust. He wished indeed he had not deprived the wicked wretch of life, but G — 's will be done. He said, he hoped the goodness of his intention would excuse him in the next world, and he trusted in her evidence to acquit him in this. He was then silent, and began to consider with himself whether it would be properer to make his escape, or to deliver himself into the hands of justice; which medi- tation ended as the reader will see in the next chapter. CHAPTER X. GIVING AN ACCOUNT OF THE STRANGE CATASTROPHE OF THE PRECEDING ADVENTURE, WHICH DREW POOR ADAMS INTO FRESH calamities; AND WHO THE WOMAN WAS WHO OWED THE PRESERVATION OF HER CHASTITY TO HIS VICTORIOUS ARM. THE silence of Adams, added to the darkness of the night and loneliness of the place, struck dreadful apprehen- sion into the poor woman's mind ; she began to fear as great an enemy in her deliverer as he had delivered her from ; and as she had not light enough to discover the age of Adams, and the benevolence visible in his countenance, she suspected he had used her as some very honest men have used their coun- try ; and had rescued her out of the hands of one rifler in order to rifle her himself. Such were the suspicions she drew from his silence ; but indeed they were ill-grounded. He stood over his vanquished enemy, wisely weighing in his mind the objections which might be made to either of the two methods of proceeding mentioned in the last chapter, his judgment sometimes inclining to the one, and sometimes to the other; for both seemed to him so equally advisable and so equally dangerous, that probably he would have ended his days, at least two or three of them, on that very spot, before he had taken any resolution ; at length he lifted up I20 JOSEPH ANDREWS his eyes, and spied a light at a distance, to which he instantly addressed himself with Hens tu, traveller, hens tu! He pres- ently heard several voices, and perceived the light approach- ing toward him. The persons who attended the light began some to laugh, others to sing, and others to hollow, at which the woman testified some fear (for she had concealed her sus- picions of the parson himself) ; but Adams said, " Be of good cheer, damsel, and repose thy trust in the same Providence which hath hitherto protected thee, and never will forsake the innocent." These people, who now approached, were no other, reader, than a set of young fellows, who came to these bushes in pursuit of a diversion which they call bird- batting. This, if you are ignorant of it (as perhaps if thou hast never travelled beyond Kensington, Islington, Hackney, or the Borough, thou mayst be), I will inform thee, is per- formed by holding a large clapnet before a lantern, and at the same time beating the bushes ; for the birds, when they are disturbed from their places of rest, or roost, immediately make to the light, and so are enticed within the net. Adams immediately told them what had happened, and desired them to hold the lantern to the face of the man on the ground, for he feared he had smote him fatally. But indeed his fears were frivolous ; for the fellow, though he had been stunned by the last blow he received, had long since recovered his senses, and, finding himself quit of Adams, had listened atten- tively to the discourse between him and the young woman ; for whose departure he had patiently waited, that he might likewise withdraw himself, having no longer hopes of suc- ceeding in his desires, which were moreover almost as well cooled by Mr Adams as they could have been by the young woman herself had he obtained his utmost wish. This fellow, who had a readiness at improving any accident, thought he might now play a better part than that of a dead man ; and, accordingly, the moment the candle was held to his face he leapt up, and. laying hold on Adams, cried out, " No, villain, I am not dead, though you and your wicked whore might well think me so, after the barbarous cruelties you have exercised on me. Gentlemen," said he, " you are luckily come to the assistance of a poor traveller, who would otherwise have been robbed and murdered by this vile man and woman who led 121 THE ADVENTURES OF me hither out of my way from the high-road, and both falling on me have used me as you see." Adams was going to an- swer, when one of the young fellows cried, " D — n them, let's carry them both before the justice." The poor woman be- gan to tremble, and Adams lifted up his voice, but in vain. Three or four of them laid hands on him ; and one holding the lantern to his face, they all agreed he had the most vil- lainous countenance they ever beheld ; and an attorney's clerk, who was of the company, declared he was sure he had re- membered him at the bar. As to the woman, her hair was dishevelled in the struggle, and her nose had bled ; so that they could not perceive whether she was handsome or ugly, but they said her fright plainly discovered her guilt. And searching her pockets, as they did those of Adams, for money, which the fellow said he had lost, they found in her pocket a purse with some gold in it, which abundantly convinced them, especially as the fellow offered to swear to it. Mr Adams was found to have no more than one halfpenny about him. This the clerk said was a great presumption that he was an old offender, by cunningly giving all the booty to the woman. To which all the rest readily assented. This accident promising them better sport than what they had proposed, they quitted their intention of catching birds, and unanimously resolved to proceed to the justice with the offenders. Being informed what a desperate fellow Adams was, they tied his hands behind him ; and, having hid their nets among the bushes, and the lantern being carried before them, they placed the two prisoners in their front, and then began their march ; Adams not only submitting patiently to his own fate, but comforting and encouraging his companion under her sufferings. Whilst they were on their way the clerk informed the rest that this adventure would prove a very beneficial one ; for that they would all be entitled to their proportions of 80/. for apprehending the robbers. This occasioned a contention concerning the parts which they had severally borne in taking them ; one insisting he ought to have the greatest share, for he had first laid his hands on Adams ; another claiming a superior part for having first held the lantern to the man's face on the ground, by which, he said, the whole was dis- 122 JOSEPH ANDREWS covered. The clerk claimed four-fifths of the reward for hav- ing proposed to search the prisoners, and likewise the car- rying them before the justice: he said, indeed, in strict justice, he ought to have the whole. These claims, however, they at last consented to refer to a future decision, but seemed all to agree that the clerk was entitled to a moiety. They then debated what money should be allotted to the young fellow who had been employed only in holding the nets. He very modestly said, that he did not apprehend any large proportion would fall to his share, but hoped they would allow him something ; he desired them to consider that they had assigned their nets to his care, which prevented him from being as for- ward as any in laying hold of the robbers (for so those in- nocent people were called) ; that if he had not occupied the the nets, some other must; concluding, however, that he should be contented with the smallest share imaginable, and should think that rather their bounty than his merit. But they were all unanimous in excluding him from any part whatever, the clerk particularly swearing, if they gave him a shilling they might do what they pleased with the rest; for he would not concern himself with the affair. This con- tention was so hot, and so totally engaged the attention of all the parties, that a dexterous nimble thief, had he been in Mr Adams's situation, would have taken care to have given the justice no trouble that evening. Indeed, it required not the art of a Shepherd to escape, especially as the darkness of the night would have so much befriended him ; but Adams trusted rather to his innocence than his heels, and, without thinking of flight, which was easy, or resistance (which was impos- sible, as there were six lusty young fellows, besides the vil- lain himself, present), he walked with perfect resignation the way they thought proper to conduct him. Adams frequently vented himself in ejaculations during their journey ; at last, poor Joseph Andrews occurring to his mind, he could not refrain sighing forth his name, which be- ing heard by his companion in affliction, she cried with some vehemence, " Sure I should know that voice ; you cannot cer- tainly, sir, be Mr Abraham Adams ? " — " Indeed, damsel," says he, " that is my name ; there is something also in your voice which persuades me I have heard it before." — " La ! 123 THE ADVENTURES OF sir," says she, " don't you remember poor Fanny ? " — " How, Fanny ! " answered Adams : " indeed I very well remember you ; what can have brought you hither? " — " I have told you, sir," replied she, " I was travelling towards London ; but I thought you mentioned Joseph Andrews ; pray what is become of him ? " — " I left him, child, this afternoon," said Adams, " in the stage-coach, in his way towards our parish, whither he is going to see you." — " To see me ! La, sir," answered Fanny, "sure you jeer me; what should he be going to see me for?" — "Can you ask that?" replied Adams. " I hope, Fanny, you are not inconstant ; I assure you he deserves much better of you." — " La ! Mr Adams," said she, " what is Mr Joseph to me ? I am sure I never had any thing to say to him, but as one fellow-servant might to another." — " I am sorry to hear this," said Adams ; " a virtuous passion for a young man is what no woman need be ashamed of. You either do not tell me truth, or you are false to a very worthy man." Adams then told her what had happened at the inn, to which she lis- tened very attentively; and a sigh often escaped from her, notwithstanding her utmost endeavours to the contrary; nor could she prevent herself from asking a thousand questions, which would have assured any one but Adams, who never saw farther into people than they desired to let him, of the truth of a passion she endeavoured to conceal. Indeed, the fact was, that this poor girl, having heard of Joseph's mis- fortune, by some of the servants belonging to the coach which we have formerly mentioned to have stopt at the inn while the poor youth was confined to his bed, that instant abandoned the cow she was milking, and, taking with her a little bundle of clothes under her arm, and all the money she was worth in her own purse, without consulting any one, immediately set forward in pursuit of one whom, notwithstanding her shy- ness to the parson, she loved with inexpressible violence, though with the purest and most delicate passion. This shy- ness, therefore, as we trust it will recommend her character to all our female readers, and not greatly surprize such of our males as are well acquainted with the younger part of the other sex, we shall not give ourselves any trouble to vindicate. 124 JOSEPH ANDREWS CHAPTER XL WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM WHILE BEFORE THE JUSTICE. CHAPTER VERY FULL OF LEARNING. T HEIR fellow-travellers were so engaged in the hot dis- pute concerning the division of the reward for appre- hending these innocent people, that they attended very little to their discourse. They were now arrived at the justice's house, and had sent one of his servants in to acquaint his worship that they had taken two robbers and brought them before him. The justice, who was just returned from a fox-chase, and had not yet finished his dinner, ordered them to carry the prisoners into the stable, whither they were attended by all the servants in the house, and all the people in the neigh- bourhood, who flocked together to see them with as much curiosity as if there was something uncommon to be seen, or that a rogue did not look like other people. The justice, now being in the height of his mirth and his cups, bethought himself of the prisoners ; and, telling his company he believed they should have good sport in their examination, he ordered them into his presence. They had no sooner entered the room than he began to revile them, saying, that robberies on the highway were now grown so frequent, that people could not sleep safely in their beds, and assured them they both should be made examples of at the ensuing assizes. After he had gone on some time in this manner, he was reminded by his clerk, that it would be proper to take the depositions of the witnesses against them. Which he bid him do, and he would light his pipe in the mean time. Whilst the clerk was employed in writing down the deposition of the fellow who had pretended to be robbed, the justice employed himself in cracking jests on poor Fanny, in which he was seconded by all the company at table. One asked, whether she was to be indicted for a highway-man ? Another whispered in her ear, if she had not provided herself a great belly, he was at her service. A third said, he warranted she was a relation of Turpin. To which one of the company, a great wit, shaking his head, and then his sides, answered, 125 THE ADVENTURES OF he believed she was nearer related to Turpis ; at which there was an universal laugh. They were proceeding thus with the poor girl, when somebody, smoking the cassock peeping forth from under the great-coat of Adams, cried out, " What have we here, a parson?" "How, sirrah," says the justice, "do you go a robbing in the dress of a clergyman? let me tell you your habit will not entitle you to the benefit of the clergy." ' Yes," said the witty fellow, " he will have one benefit of clergy, he will be exalted above the heads of the people ; " at which there was a second laugh. And now the witty spark, seeing his jokes take, began to rise in spirits; and, turning *to Adams, challenged him to cap verses, and, provoking him by giving the first blow, he repeated, " Molle meum levibus cord est vilebile telis." Upon which Adams, with a look full of ineffable contempt, told him, he deserved scourging for his pronunciation. The witty fellow answered, " What do you deserve, doctor, for not being able to answer the first time? Why, I'll give one, you blockhead, with an S. " ' Si licet, ut fulvum spectatur in ignibus liaurum.' " ' What, canst not with an M neither ? Thou art a pretty fellow for a parson ! Why didst not steal some of the par- son's Latin as well as his gown? " Another at the table then answered, " If he had, you would have been too hard for him ; I remember you at the college a very devil at this sport; I have seen you catch a fresh man, for nobody that knew you would engage with you." " I have forgot those things now," cried the wit. " I believe I could have done pretty well for- merly. Let's see, what did I end with ? — an M again — ay '"Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, virorum.'" " I could have done it once." " Ah ! evil betide you, and so you can now," said the other : " nobody in this country will undertake you." Adams could hold no longer: "Friend," said he, " I have a boy not above eight years old who would instruct thee that the last verse runs thus : — " Ut sunt Divorum, Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, virorum" 126 JOSEPH ANDREWS " I'll hold thee a guinea of that," said the wit, throwing the money on the table. "And I'll go your halves," cries the other. " Done," answered Adams ; but upon applying to his pocket he was forced to retract, and own he had no money about him ; which set them all a laughing, and confirmed the triumph of his adversary, which was not moderate, any more than the approbation he met with from the whole company, who told Adams he must go a little longer to school before he attempted to attack that gentleman in Latin. The clerk, having finished the depositions, as well of the fellow himself, as of those who apprehended the prisoners, delivered them to the justice; who, having sworn the several witnesses without reading a syllable, ordered his clerk to make the mittimus. Adams then said, he hoped he should not be condemned unheard. " No, no," cries the justice, " you will be asked what you have to say for yourself when you come on your trial : we are not trying you now ; I shall only commit you to gaol : if you can prove your innocence at 'size, you will be found ignoramus, and so no harm done." '' Is it no pun- ishment, sir, for an innocent man to lie several months in gaol ? " cries Adams : " I beg you would at least hear me be- fore you sign the mittimus." " What signifies all you can say?" says the justice: "is it not here in black and white against you ? I must tell you you are a very impertinent fellow to take up so much of my time. So make haste with his mittimus." The clerk now acquainted the justice that among other suspicious things, as a penknife, &c, found in Adams's pocket, they had discovered a book written, as he apprehended, in cyphers : for no one could read a word in it. " Ay," says the justice, " the fellow may be more than a common robber, he may be in a plot against the government. Produce the book." Upon which the poor manuscript of yEschylus, which Adams had transcribed with his own hand, was brought forth ; and the justice, looking at it, shook his head, and, turning to the prisoner, asked the meaning of those cyphers. " Cyphers ? " answered Adams, " it is a manuscript of JEschylus." " Who ? who?" said the justice. Adams repeated, " JEschylus." " That is an outlandish name," cried the clerk. " A ficti- 127 THE ADVENTURES OF tious name rather, I believe," said the justice. One of the company declared it looked very much like Greek. " Greek ? " said the justice ; " why 'tis all writing." " No," says the other, " I don't positively say it is so ; for it is a very long time since I have seen any Greek." " There's one," says he, turning to the parson of the parish, who was present, " will tell us imme- diately." The parson, taking up the book, and putting on his spectacles and gravity together, muttered some words to him- self, and then pronounced aloud — " Aye, indeed, it is a Greek manuscript ; a very fine piece of antiquity. I make no doubt but it was stolen from the same clergyman from whom the rogue took the cassock." " What did the rascal mean by his yEschylus?" says the justice. "Pooh!" answered the doc- tor, with a contemptuous grin, " do you think that fellow knows anything of this book ? ^Eschylus ! ho ! ho ! ho ! I see now what it is — a manuscript of one of the fathers. I know a nobleman who would give a great deal of money for such a piece of antiquity. Aye, aye, question and answer. The be- ginning is the catechism in Greek. Aye, aye, Pollaki toi: What's your name ? " " Aye, what's your name ? " says the justice to Adams; who answered, " It is yEschylus, and I will maintain it." — " O ! it is," says the justice : " make Mr YEschylus his mittimus. I will teach you to banter me with a false name." One of the company, having looked steadfastly at Adams, asked him, if he did not know Lady Booby? Upon which Adams, presently calling him to mind, answered in a rapture, "O squire! are you there? I believe you will inform his worship I am innocent." — " I can indeed say," replied the squire, " that I am very much surprized to see you in this situation : " and then, addressing himself to the justice, he said, " Sir, I assure you Mr Adams is a clergyman, as he appears, and a gentleman of a very good character. I wish you would inquire a little farther into this affair ; for I am convinced of his innocence." — " Nay." says the justice, " if he is a gentleman, and you are sure he is innocent, I don't desire to commit him, not I : I will commit the woman by herself, and take your bail for the gentleman : look into the book, clerk, and see how it is to take bail — come — and make the mittimus for the woman as fast as you can." — " Sir," cries 128 JOSEPH ANDREWS Adams, " I assure you she is as innocent as myself." — " Per- haps," said the squire, " there may be some mistake : pray let us hear Mr Adams's relation." — " With all my heart," answered the justice; "and give the gentleman a glass to whet his whistle before he begins. I know how to behave myself to a gentleman as well as another. Nobody can say I have committed a gentleman since I have been in the com- mission." Adams then began the narrative, in which, though he was very prolix, he was uninterrupted, unless by several hums and hahs of the justice, and his desire to repeat those parts which seemed to him most material. When he had finished, the justice, who, on what the squire had said, be- lieved every syllable of his story on his bare affirmation, not- withstanding the depositions on oath to the contrary, began to let loose several rogues and rascals against the witness, whom he ordered to stand forth, but in vain ; the witness, long since finding what turn matters were likely to take, had privily withdrawn, without attending the issue. The justice now flew into a violent passion, and was hardly prevailed with not to commit the innocent fellows who had been imposed on as well as himself. He swore, they had best find out the fellow who was guilty of perjury, and bring him before him within two days, or he would bind them all over to their good behaviour. They all promised to use their best endea- vours to that purpose, and were dismissed. Then the justice insisted that Mr Adams should sit down and take a glass with him; and the parson of the parish delivered him back the manuscript without saying a word; nor would Adams, who plainly discerned his ignorance, expose it. As for Fanny, she was, at her own request, recommended to the care of a maid- servant of the house, who helped her to new dress and clean herself. The company in the parlour had not been long seated be- fore they were alarmed with a horrible uproar from without, where the persons who had apprehended Adams and Fanny had been regaling, according to the custom of the house, with the justice's strong beer. These were all fallen together by the ears, and were cuffing each other without any mercy. The justice himself sallied out, and with the dignity of his pres- ence soon put an end to the fray. On his return into the. 9 129 THE ADVENTURES OF parlour, he reported, that the occasion of the quarrel was no other than a dispute to whom, if Adams had been convicted, the greater share of the reward for apprehending him had belonged. All the company laughed at this, except Adams, who, taking his pipe from his mouth, fetched a deep groan, and said, he was concerned to see so litigious a temper in men. That he remembered a story something like it in one of the parishes where his cure lay : — " There was," continued he, " a competition between three young fellows for the place of the clerk, which I disposed of, to the best of my abilities, ac- cording to merit ; that is, I gave it to him who had the happiest knack at setting a psalm. The clerk was no sooner established in his place than a contention began between the two dis- appointed candidates concerning their excellence ; each con- tending on whom, had they two been the only competitors, my election would have fallen. This dispute frequently dis- turbed the congregation, and introduced a discord into the psalmody, till I was forced to silence them both. But alas ! the litigious spirit could not be stifled ; and, being no longer able to vent itself in singing, it now broke forth in fighting. It produced many battles (for they were very near a match), and I believe would have ended fatally, had not the death of the clerk given me an opportunity to promote one of them to his place ; which presently put an end to the dispute, and entirely reconciled the contending parties." Adams then pro- ceeded to make some philosophical observations on the folly of growing warm in disputes in which neither party is in- terested. He then applied himself vigorously to smoking; and a long silence ensued, which was at length broke by the justice, who began to sing forth his own praises, and to value himself exceedingly on his nice discernment in the cause which had lately been before him. He was quickly interrupted by Mr Adams, between whom and his worship a dispute now arose, whether he ought not, in strictness of law, to have committed him, the said Adams; in which the latter main- tained he ought to have been committed, and the justice as vehemently held he ought not. This had most probably pro- duced a quarrel (for both were very violent and positive in their opinions), had not Fanny accidentally heard that a young fellow was going from the justice's house to the very JOSEPH ANDREWS inn where the stage-coach in which Joseph was put up. Upon this news, she immediately sent for the parson out of the parlour. Adams, when he found her resolute to go (though she would not own the reason, but pretended she could not bear to see the faces of those who had suspected her of such a crime), was as fully determined to go with her; he accord- ingly took leave of the justice and company: and so ended a dispute in which the law seemed shamefully to intend to set a magistrate and a divine together by the ears. CHAPTER XII. A VERY DELIGHTFUL ADVENTURE, AS WELL TO THE PERSONS CONCERNED AS TO THE GOOD-NATURED READER. ADAMS, Fanny, and the guide, set out together about one jljL in the morning, the moon being then just risen. They had not gone above a mile before a most violent storm of rain obliged them to take shelter in an inn, or rather alehouse, where Adams immediately procured himself a good fire, a toast and ale, and a pipe, and began to smoke with great con- tent, utterly forgetting everything that had happened. Fanny sat likewise down by the fire ; but was much more impatient at the storm. She presently engaged the eyes of the host, his wife, the maid of the house, and the young fel- low who was their guide; they all conceived they had never seen anything half so handsome ; and indeed, reader, if thou art of an amorous hue, I advise thee to skip over the next paragraph ; which, to render our history perfect, we are obliged to set down, humbly hoping that we may escape the fate of Pygmalion; for if it should happen to us, or to thee, to be struck with this picture, we should be perhaps in as helpless a condition as Narcissus, and might say to ourselves, quod petis est nusquam. Or, if the finest features in it should set Lady 's image before our eyes, we should be still in as bad a situation, and might say to our desires, Coclum ipsum pctimus stultitia. Fanny was now in the nineteenth year of her age ; she was 131 THE ADVENTURES OF tall and delicately shaped ; but not one of those slender young women who seem rather intended to hang up in the hall of an anatomist than for any other purpose. On the contrary, she was so plump that she seemed bursting through her tight stays, especially in the part which confined her swelling breasts. Nor did her hips want the assistance of a hoop to ex- tend them. The exact shape of her arms denoted the form of those limbs which she concealed; and though they were a little reddened by her labour, yet, if her sleeve slipped above her elbow, or her handkerchief discovered any part of her neck, a whiteness appeared which the finest Italian paint would be unable to reach. Her hair was of a chestnut brown, and nature had been extremely lavish to her of it, which she had ■ cut, and on Sundays used to curl down her neck, in the mod- ern fashion. Her forehead was high, her eyebrows arched, and rather full than otherwise. Her eyes black and sparkling ; her nose just inclining to the Roman ; her lips red and moist, and her under lip, according to the opinion of the ladies, too pouting. Her teeth were white, but not exactly even. The small-pox had left one only mark on her chin, which was so large, it might have been mistaken for a dimple, had not her left cheek produced one so near a neighbour to it, that the former served only for a foil to the latter. Her complexion was fair, a little injured by the sun, but overspread with such a bloom that the finest ladies would have exchanged all their white for it : add to these a countenance in which, though she was extremely bashful, a sensibility appeared almost in- credible ; and a sweetness, whenever she smiled, beyond either imitation or description. To conclude all, she had a natural gentility superior to the acquisition of art, and which sur- prized all who beheld her. This lovely creature was sitting by the fire with Adams, when her attention was suddenly engaged by a voice from an inner room, which sung the following song: — THE SONG. Say, Chloe, where must the swain stray Who is by thy beauties undone? To wash their remembrance away, To what distant Lethe must run? 132 JOSEPH ANDREWS The wretch who is sentenced to die May escape, and leave justice behind; From his country perhaps he may fly, But O ! can he fly from his mind ? O rapture ! unthought of before, To be thus of Chloe possess'd ; Nor she, nor no tyrant's hard power, Her image can tear from my breast. But felt not Narcissus more joy, With his eyes he beheld his loved charms? Yet what he beheld the fond boy More eagerly wish'd in his arms. How can it thy dear image be Which fills thus my bosom with woe? Can aught bear resemblance to thee Which grief and not joy can bestow? This counterfeit snatch from my heart, Ye pow'rs, tho' with torment I rave, Tho' mortal will prove the fell smart : I then shall find rest in my grave. Ah, see the dear nymph o'er the plain Come smiling and tripping along ! A thousand Loves dance in her train, The Graces around her all throng. To meet her soft Zephyrus flies, And wafts all the sweets from the flowers, Ah, rogue ! whilst he kisses her eyes, More sweets from her breath he devours. My soul, whilst I gaze, is on fire: But her looks were so tender and kind, My hope almost reach'd my desire, And left lame despair far behind. Transported with madness, I flew, And eagerly seized on my bliss ; Her bosom but half she withdrew, But half she refused my fond kiss. *33 THE ADVENTURES OF Advances like these made me bold ; I whisper'd her, — love, we're alone. — The rest let immortals unfold ; No language can tell but their own. Ah, Chloe, expiring, I cried, How long I thy cruelty bore! Ah, Strephon, she blushing replied, You ne'er was so pressing before. Adams had been ruminating all this time on a passage in ^Eschylus, without attending in the least to the voice, though one of the most melodious that ever was heard, when, cast- ing his eyes on Fanny, he cried out, " Bless us, you look ex- tremely pale ! " — " Pale ! Mr Adams," says she; " O Jesus ! " and fell backwards in her chair. Adams jumped up, flung his ^Eschylus into the fire, and fell a roaring to the people of the house for help. He soon summoned every one into the room, and the songster among the rest ; but, O reader ! when this nightingale, who was no other than Joseph An- drews himself, saw his beloved Fanny in the situation we have described her, canst thou conceive the agitations of his mind? If thou canst not, wave that meditation to behold his happiness, when, clasping her in his arms, he found life and blood returning into her cheeks ; when he saw her open her beloved eyes, and heard her with the softest accent whis- per, " Are you Joseph Andrews? " — " Art thou my Fanny? " he answered eagerly; and, pulling her to his heart, he im- printed numberless kisses on her lips, without considering who were present. J If prudes are offended at the lusciousness of this picture, they may take their eyes off from it, and survey parson Adams dancing about the room in a rapture of joy. Some philoso- phers may perhaps doubt whether he was not the happiest of the three; for the goodness of his heart enjoyed the bless- ings which were exulting in the breasts of both the other two, together with his own. But we shall leave such disquisitions, as too deep for us, to those who are building some favourite hypothesis, which they will refuse no metaphysical rubbish to erect and support : for our part, we give it clearly on the side of Joseph, whose happiness was not only greater than the parson's, but of longer duration ; for as soon as the first T 34 JOSEPH ANDREWS tumults of Adams's rapture were over he cast his eyes towards the lire, where /Eschylus lay expiring; and immediately res- cued the poor remains, to wit, the sheep-skin covering, of his clear friend, which was the work of his own hands, and had been his inseparable companion for upwards of thirty years. Fanny had no sooner perfectly recovered herself than she began to restrain the impetuosity of her transports ; and, re- flecting on what she had done and suffered in the presence of so many, she was immediately covered with confusion ; and, pushing Joseph gently from her, she begged him to be quiet, nor would admit of either kiss or embrace any longer. Then, seeing Mrs Slipslop, she curtsied, and offered to ad- vance to her; but that high woman would not return her curtsies ; but, casting her eyes another way, immediately with- drew into another room, muttering, as she went, she wondered who the creature was. CHAPTER XIII. A DISSERTATION CONCERNING HIGH PEOPLE AND LOW PEOPLE, WITH MRS SLIPSLOP'S DEPARTURE IN NO VERY GOOD TEMPER OF MIND, AND THE EVIL PLIGHT IN WHICH SHE LEFT ADAMS AND HIS COMPANY. IT will doubtless seem extremely odd to many readers, that Mrs Slipslop, who had lived several years in the same house with Fanny, should, in a short separation, utterly for- get her. And indeed the truth is, that she remembered her very well. As we would not willingly, therefore, that any- thing should appear unnatural in this our history, we will endeavour to explain the reasons of her conduct ; nor do we doubt being able to satisfy the most curious reader that Mrs Slipslop did not in the least deviate from the common road in this behaviour; and, indeed, had she done otherwise, she must have descended below herself, and would have very justly been liable to censure. Be it known then, that the human species are divided into two sorts of people, to wit, high people and low people. As *35 THE ADVENTURES OF by high people I would not be understood to mean persons literally born higher in their dimensions than the rest of the species, nor metaphorically those of exalted characters or abilities ; so by low people I cannot be construed to intend the reverse. High people signify no other than people of fashion, and low people those of no fashion. Now, this word fashion hath by long use lost its original meaning, from which at present it gives us a very different idea; for I am deceived if by persons of fashion we do not generally include a concep- tion of birth and accomplishments superior to the herd of mankind ; whereas, in reality, nothing more was originally meant by a person of fashion than a person who drest him- self in the fashion of the times ; and the word really and truly signifies no more at this day. Now, the world being thus divided into people of fashion and people of no fashion, a fierce contention arose between them ; nor would those of one party, to avoid suspicion, be seen publicly to speak to those of the other, though they often held a very good correspon- dence in private. In this contention it is difficult to say which party succeeded : for, whilst the people of fashion seized sev- eral places to their own use, such as courts, assemblies, operas, balls, &c, the people of no fashion, besides one royal place, called his Majesty's Bear-garden, have been in constant pos- session of all hops, fairs, revels, &c. Two places have been agreed to be divided between them, namely, the church and the playhouse, where they segregate themselves from each other in a remarkable manner; for, as the people of fashion exalt themselves at church over the heads of the people of no fashion, so in the playhouse they abase themselves in the same degree under their feet. This distinction I have never met with any one able to account for : it is sufficient that, so far from looking on each other as brethren in the Christian lan- guage, they seem scarce to regard each other as of the same species. This, the terms " strange persons, people one does not know, the creature, wretches, beasts, brutes," and many other appellations evidently demonstrate ; which Mrs Slipslop, having often heard her mistress use, thought she had also a right to use in her turn ; and perhaps she was not mistaken ; for these two parties, especially those bordering nearly on each other, to wit, the lowest of the high, and the highest of the 136 JOSEPH ANDREWS low, often change their parties according to place and time ; for those who are people of fashion in one place are often people of no fashion in another. And with regard to time, it may not be unpleasant to survey the picture of dependence like a kind of ladder : as, for instance ; early in the morning arises the postilion, or some other boy, which great families, no more than great ships, are without, and falls to brushing the clothes and cleaning the shoes of John the footman ; who, being drest himself, applies his hands to the same la- bours for Mr Second-hand, the squire's gentleman; the gen- tleman in the like manner, a little later in the day, attends the squire ; the squire is no sooner equipped than he attends the levee of my lord ; which is no sooner over than my lord himself is seen at the levee of the favourite, who, after the hour of homage is at an end, appears himself to pay homage to the levee of his sovereign. Nor is there, perhaps, in this whole ladder of dependence, any one step at a greater distance from the other than the first from the second ; so that to a philosopher the question might only seem, whether you would choose to be a great man at six in the morning or at two in the afternoon. And yet there are scarce two of these who do not think the least familiarity with the persons below them a condescension, and, if they were to go one step farther, a degradation. ^ And now, reader, I hope thou wilt pardon this long digres- sion, which seemed to me necessary to vindicate the great char- acter of Mrs Slipslop from what low people, who have never seen high people, might think an absurdity; but we who know them must have daily found very high persons know us in one place and not in another, to-day and not to-morrow; all which it is difficult to account for otherwise than I have here endeavoured ; and perhaps, if the gods, according to the opinion of some, made men only to laugh at them, there is no part of our behaviour which answers the end of our creation better than this. But to return to our history : Adams, who knew no more of this than the cat which sat on the table, imagining Mrs Slipslop's memory had been much worse than it really was, followed her into the next room, crying out, " Madam Slip- slop, here is one of your old acquaintance; do but see what 137 THE ADVENTURES OF a fine woman she is grown since she left Lady Booby's ser- vice." — " I think I reflect something of her," answered she, with great dignity, " but I can't remember all the inferior servants in our family." She then proceeded to satisfy Adams's curiosity, by telling him, when she arrived at the inn, she found a chaise ready for her; that, her lady being expected very shortly in the country, she was obliged to make the utmost haste; and, in commensuration of Joseph's lameness, she had taken him with her; and lastly, that the excessive virulence of the storm had driven them into the house where he found them. After which, she acquainted Adams with his having left his horse, and exprest some won- der at his having strayed so far out of his way, and at meet- ing him, as she said, in the company of that wench, who she feared was no better than she should be. The horse was no sooner put into Adams's head but he was immediately driven out by this reflection on the character of Fanny. He protested, he believed there was not a chaster damsel in the universe. " I heartily wish, I heartily wish," cried he (snapping his fingers), "that all her betters were as good." He then proceeded to inform her of the accident of their meeting; but when he came to mention the circumstance of delivering her from the rape, she said, she thought him properer for the army than the clergy ; that it did not become a clergyman to lay violent hands on any one ; that he should have rather prayed that she might be strengthened. Adams said, he was very far from being ashamed of what he had done : she replied, want of shame was not the currycuristic of a clergyman. This dialogue might have probably grown warmer, had not Joseph opportunely entered the room, to ask leave of Madam Slipslop to introduce Fanny ; but she positively refused to admit any such trollops, and told him, she would have been burnt before she would have suffered him to get into a chaise with her, if she had once repected him of having his sluts waylaid on the road for him ; adding, that Mr Adams acted a very pretty part, and she did not doubt but to see him a bishop. He made the best bow he could, and cried out, " I thank you, madam, for that right-reverend appellation, which I shall take all honest means to deserve." — "Very honest means," returned she with a sneer, " to bring good people to- 138 JOSEPH ANDREWS gether." At these words Adams took two or three strides across the room, when the coachman came to inform Mrs Slipslop that the storm was over, and the moon shone very bright. She then sent for Joseph, who was sitting without with his Fanny, and would have had him gone with her ; but he peremptorily refused to leave Fanny behind, which threw the good woman into a violent rage. She said she would inform her lady what doings were carrying on, and did not doubt but she would rid the parish of all such people ; and concluded a long speech, full of bitterness and very hard words, and with some reflections on the clergy not decent to repeat; at last, finding Joseph unmovable, she flung herself into the chaise, casting a look at Fanny as she went, not un- like that which Cleopatra gives Octavia in the play. To say the truth, she was most disagreeably disappointed by the pres- ence of Fanny: she had, from her first seeing Joseph at the inn, conceived hopes of something which might have been accomplished at an alehouse as well as a palace. Indeed, it is probable Mr Adams had rescued more than Fanny from the danger of a rape that evening. When the chaise had carried off the enraged Slipslop, Adams, Joseph, and Fanny assembled over the fire, where they had a great deal of innocent chat, pretty enough ; but, as possibly it would not be very entertaining to the reader, we shall hasten to the morning; only observing that none of them went to bed that night. Adams, when he had smoked three pipes, took a comfortable nap in a great chair, and left the lovers, whose eyes were too well employed to permit any desire of shutting them, to enjoy by themselves, during some hours, an happiness of which none of my readers who have never been in love are capable of the least conception, though we had as many tongues as Homer desired, to describe it with, and which all true lovers will represent to their own minds without the least assistance from us. Let it suffice then to say, that Fanny, after a thousand entreaties, at last gave up her whole soul to Joseph; and, almost fainting in his arms, with a sigh infinitely softer and sweeter too than any Arabian breeze, she whispered to his lips, which were then close to hers, " O Joseph, you have won me; I will be yours for ever." Joseph, having thanked her i39 THE ADVENTURES OF on his knees, and embraced her with an eagerness which she now almost returned, leapt up in a rapture, and awakened the parson, earnestly begging him that he would that instant join their hands together. Adams rebuked him for his re- quest, and told him he would by no means consent to any- thing contrary to the forms of the church; that he had no licence, nor indeed would he advise him to obtain one: that the church had prescribed a form, — namely, the publication of banns, — with which all good Christians ought to comply, and to the omission of which he attributed the many miseries which befel great folks in marriage; concluding, "As many as are joined together otherwise than God's word doth allow, are not joined together by God, neither is their matrimony lawful." Fanny agreed with the parson, saying to Joseph, with a blush, she assured him she would not consent to any such thing, and that she wondered at his offering it. In which resolution she was comforted and commended by Adams ; and Joseph was obliged to wait patiently till after the third publication of the banns, which however he obtained the consent of Fanny, in the presence of Adams, to put in at their arrival. The sun had now been risen some hours, when Joseph, finding his leg surprizingly recovered, proposed to walk for- wards; but when they were all ready to set out, an accident a little retarded them. This was no other than the reckoning, which amounted to seven shillings; no great sum if we con- sider the immense quantity of ale which Mr Adams poured in. Indeed, they had no objection to the reasonableness of the bill, but many to the probability of paying it; for the fellow who had taken poor Fanny's purse had unluckily forgot to return it. So that the account stood thus : t. s. d. Mr Adams and company, Dr 070 In Mr Adams's pocket 00 6 l / 2 In Mr Joseph's 000 In Mrs Fanny's 000 Balance ....06 $ l / 2 140 JOSEPH ANDREWS They stood silent some few minutes, staring at each other, when Adams whipt out on his toes, and asked the hostess, if there was no clergyman in that parish ? She answered, there was. "Is he wealthy?" replied he; to which she likewise answered in the affirmative. Adams then snapping his fingers returned overjoyed to his companions, crying out, " Heureka, Heureka ; " which not being understood, he told them in plain English, they need give themselves no trouble, for he had a brother in the parish who would defray the reckoning, and that he would just step to his house and fetch the money, and return to them instantly. CHAPTER XIV. AN INTERVIEW BETWEEN PARSON ADAMS AND PARSON TRULLIBER. PARSON ADAMS came to the house of Parson Trul- liber, whom he found stript into his waistcoat, with an apron on, and a pail in his hand, just come from serving his hogs ; for Mr Trulliber was a parson on Sundays, but all the other six might more properly be called a farmer. He occu- pied a small piece of land of his own, besides which he rented a considerable deal more. His wife milked his cows, managed his dairy, and followed the markets with butter and eggs. The hogs fell chiefly to his care, which he carefully waited on at home, and attended to fairs; on which occasion he was liable to many jokes, his own size being, with much ale, ren- dered little inferior to that of the beasts he sold. He was indeed one of the largest men you should see, and could have acted the part of Sir John Falstaff without stuffing. Add to this that the rotundity of his belly was considerably in- creased by the shortness of his stature, his shadow ascending very near as far in height, when he lay on his back, as when •he stood on his legs. His voice was loud and hoarse, and his accent extremely broad. To complete the whole, he had a stateliness in his gait, when he walked, not unlike that of a goose, only he stalked slower. Mr Trulliber, being informed that somebody wanted to 141 THE ADVENTURES OF speak with him, immediately slipt off his apron and clothed himself in an old night-gown, being the dress in which he always saw his company at home. His wife, who informed him of Mr Adams's arrival, had made a small mistake; for she had told her husband, she believed there was a man come for some of his hogs. This supposition made Mr Trulliber hasten with the utmost expedition to attend his guest. He no sooner saw Adams than, not in the least doubting the cause of his errand to be what his wife had imagined, he told him, he was come in very good time ; that he expected a dealer that very afternoon ; and added, they were all pure and fat, and upwards of twenty score a-piece. Adams answered, he believed he did not know him. " Yes, yes," cried Trulliber, " I have seen you often at fair ; why we have dealt before now, mun, I warrant you. Yes, yes," cries he, " I remember thy face very well, but won't mention a word more till you have seen them, though I have never sold thee a flitch of such bacon as is now in the stye." Upon which he laid violent hands on Adams, and dragged him into the hog-stye, which was indeed but two steps from his parlour-window. They were no sooner arrived there than he cried out, " Do but handle them ; step in, friend ; art welcome to handle them, whether dost buy or no." At which words, opening the gate, he pushed Adams into the pig-stye, insisting on it that he should handle them before he would talk one word with him. Adams, whose natural complacence was beyond any artifi- cial, was obliged to comply before he was suffered to explain himself; and, laying hold on one of their tails, the unruly beast gave such a sudden spring, that he threw poor Adams all along in the mire. Trulliber, instead of assisting him to get up, burst into a laughter, and, entering the stye, said to Adams with some contempt, " Why, dost not know how to handle a hog?" and was going to lay hold of one himself, but Adams, who thought he had carried his complacence far enough, was no sooner on his legs than he escaped out of the reach of the animals, and cried out, " Nil habeo cum porcis: I am a clergyman, sir, and am not come to buy hogs." Trul- liber answered, he was sorry for the mistake, but that he must blame his wife, adding, she was a fool, and always committed blunders. He then desired him to walk in and 142 JOSEPH ANDREWS clean himself, that he would only fasten up the stye and follow him. Adams desired leave to dry his great-coat, wig, and hat by the fire, which Trulliber granted. Mrs Trulliber would have brought him a basin of water to wash his face, but her husband bid her be quiet like a fool as she was, or she would commit more blunders, and then directed Adams to the pump. While Adams was thus employed, Trulliber, conceiving no great respect for the appearance of his guest, fastened the parlour door, and now conducted him into the kitchen, telling him he believed a cup of drink would do him no harm, and whispered his wife to draw a little of the worst ale. After a short silence Adams said, " I fancy, sir, you already perceive me to be a clergyman." — " Aye, aye," cries Trulliber, grinning, " I perceive you have some cassock ; I will not venture to caale it a whole one." Adams answered, it was indeed none of the best, but he had the misfortune to tear it about ten years ago in passing over a stile. Mrs Trulliber, returning with the drink, told her husband she fancied the gentleman was a traveller, and that he would be glad to eat a bit. Trulliber bid her hold her impertinent tongue, and asked her if parsons used to travel without horses? adding, he supposed the gentleman had none by his his having no boots on. " Yes, sir, yes," says Adams ; " I have a horse, but I have left him behind me." — " I am glad to hear you have one," says Trulliber ; " for I assure you I don't love to see clergymen on foot ; it is not seemly nor suiting the dignity of the cloth." Here Trulliber made a long oration on the dignity of the cloth (or rather gown) not much worth relating, till his wife had spread the table and set a mess of porridge on it for his breakfast. He then said to Adams, " I don't know, friend, how you came to caale on me; however, as you are here, if you think proper to eat a morsel, you may." Adams accepted the invitation, and the two parsons sat down together; Mrs Trulliber waiting be- hind her husband's chair, as was, it seems, her custom. Trul- liber ate heartily, but scarce put anything in his mouth with- out finding fault with his wife's cookery. All which the poor woman bore patiently. Indeed, she was so absolute an ad- mirer of her husband's greatness and importance, of which she had frequent hints from his own mouth, that she almost M3 THE ADVENTURES OF carried her adoration to an opinion of his infallibility. To say the truth, the parson had exercised her more ways than one ; and the pious woman had been so well edified by her hus- band's sermons, that she had resolved to receive the bad things of this world together with the good. She had indeed been at first a little contentious ; but he had long since got the better; partly by her love for this, partly by her fear of that, partly by her religion, partly by the respect he paid himself, and partly by that which he received from the parish. She had, in short, absolutely submitted, and now worshipped her husband, as Sarah did Abraham, calling him (not lord, but) master. Whilst they were at table her husband gave her a fresh example of his greatness ; for, as she had just delivered a cup of ale to Adams, he snatched it out of his hand, and, crying out, " I caal'd vurst," swallowed down the ale. Adams denied it; it was referred to the wife, who, though her conscience was on the side of Adams, durst not give it against her husband ; Upon which he said, " No, sir, no ; I should not have been so rude to have taken it from you if you had caal'd vurst, but I'd have you know I'm a better man than to suffer the best he in the kingdom to drink before me in my own house when I caale vurst." As soon as their breakfast was ended, Adams began in the following manner : " I think, sir, it is high time to inform you of the business of my embassy. I am a traveller and am passing this way in company with two young people, a lad and a damsel, my parishioners, towards my own cure; we stopt at a house of hospitality in the parish, where they directed me to you as having the cure." — " Though I am but a curate," says Trulliber, " I believe I am as warm as the vicar himself, or perhaps the rector of the next parish too; I believe I could buy them both." — " Sir," cries Adams, " I, rejoice thereat. Now, sir, my business is, that we are by various accidents stript of our money, and are not able to pay our reckoning, being seven shillings. I therefore request you to assist me with the loan of those seven shillings, and also seven shillings more, which, peradventure, I shall return to you ; but if not, I am convinced you will joyfully embrace such an opportunity of laying up a treasure in a better place than any this world affords." 144 JOSEPH ANDREWS Suppose a stranger, who entered the chambers of a lawyer, being imagined a client, when the lawyer was preparing his palm for the fee, should pull out a writ against him. Sup- pose an apothecary, at the door of a chariot containing some great doctor of eminent skill, should, instead of directions to a patient, present him with a potion for himself. Suppose a minister should, instead of a good round sum, treat my lord , or sir , or esq. with a good broom- stick. Suppose a civil companion, or a led captain, should, instead of virtue, and honour, and beauty, and parts, and admiration, thunder vice, and infamy, and ugliness, and folly, and contempt, in his patron's ears. Suppose, when a trades- man first carries in his bill, the man of fashion should pay it; or suppose, if he did so, the tradesman should abate what he had overcharged, on the supposition of waiting. In short, — suppose what you will, you never can nor will suppose any- thing equal to the astonishment which seized on Trulliber, as soon as Adams had ended his speech. A while he rolled his eyes in silence ; sometimes surveying Adams, then his wife; then casting them on the ground, then lifting them up to heaven. At last he burst forth in the following accents : " Sir, I believe I know where to lay up my little treasure as well as another. I thank G — , if I am not so warm as some, I am content ; that is a blessing greater than riches ; and he to whom that is given need ask no more. To be content with a little is greater than to possess the world ; which a man may possess without being so. Lay up my treasure ! what matters where a man's treasure is whose heart is in the Scriptures? there is the treasure of a Christian." At these words the water ran from Adams's eyes ; and, catching Trul- liber by the hand in a rapture, " Brother," says he, " heavens bless the accident by which I came to see you ! I would have walked many a mile to have communed with you ; and, be- lieve me, I will shortly pay you a second visit ; but my friends, I fancy, by this time, wonder at my stay ; so let me have the money immediately." Trulliber then put on a stern look, and cried out, " Thou dost not intend to rob me ? " At which the wife, bursting into tears, fell on her knees and roared out, " O dear sir ! for Heaven's sake don't rob my master : we are but poor people." " Get up, for a fool as thou art, 10 i45 THE ADVENTURES OF and go about thy business," said Trulliber : " dost think the man will venture his life? he is a beggar, and no robber." " Very true, indeed," answered Adams. " I wish, with all my heart, the tithing-man was here," cries Trulliber: "I would have thee punished as a vagabond for thy impudence. Four- teen shillings indeed ! I won't give thee a farthing. I be- lieve thou art no more a clergyman than the woman there " (pointing to his wife) ; " but if thou art, dost deserve to have thy gown stript over thy shoulders for running about the country in such a manner." " I forgive your suspicions," says Adams ; " but suppose I am not a clergyman, I am nevertheless thy brother; and thou, as a Christian, much more as a clergy- man, art obliged to relieve my distress." " Dost preach to me ? " replied Trulliber : " dost pretend to instruct me in my duty?" "Hacks, a good story," cries Mrs Trulliber, "to preach to my master." " Silence, woman," cries Trulliber. " I would have thee know, friend " (addressing himself to Adams), "I shall not learn my duty from such as thee. I know what charity is, better than to give to vagabonds." " Besides, if we were inclined, the poor's rate obliges us to give so much charity," cries the wife. " Pugh ! thou aft a fool. Poor's reate ! Hold thy nonsense," answered Trulli- ber ; and then, turning to Adams, he told him, " he would give him nothing." " I am sorry," answered Adams, " that you do know what charity is, since you practise it no better : I must tell you, if you trust to your knowledge for your justification, you will find yourself deceived, though you should add faith to it, without good works." " Fellow," cries Trulliber, "dost thou speak against faith in my house? Get out of my doors : I will no longer remain under the same roof with a wretch who speaks wantonly of faith and the Scriptures." " Name not the Scriptures," says Adams. " How ! not name the Scriptures ! Do you disbelieve the Scriptures ? " cries Trulliber. " No ; but you do," answered Adams, " if I may reason from your practice ! for their com- mands are so explicit, and their rewards and punishments so immense, that it is impossible a man should steadfastly believe without obeying. Now, there is no command more express, no duty more frequently enjoined, than charity! Whoever, therefore, is void of charity, I make no scruple of 146 JOSEPH ANDREWS pronouncing that he is no Christian." ' I would not advise thee," says Trulliber, " to say that I am no Christian : I won't take it of you ; for I believe I am as good a man as thyself " (and indeed, though he was now rather too corpulent for athletic exercises, he had, in his youth, been one of the best boxers and cudgel-players in the county). His wife, seeing him clench his fist, interposed, and begged him not to fight, but show himself a true Christian, and take the law of him. As nothing could provoke Adams to strike, but an absolute assault on himself or his friend, he smiled at the angry look and gestures of Trulliber ; and, telling him he was sorry to see such men in orders, departed without further ceremony. CHAPTER XV. AN ADVENTURE THE CONSEQUENCE OF A NEW INSTANCE WHICH PARSON ADAMS GAVE OF HIS FORGETFULNESS. WHEN he came back to the inn he found Joseph and Fanny sitting together. They were so far from think- ing his absence long, as he had feared they would, that they never once missed or thought of him. Indeed, I have been often assured by both, that they spent these hours in a most delightful conversation ; but, as I never could prevail on either to relate it, so I cannot communicate it to the reader. Adams acquainted the lovers with the ill success of his enterprize. They were all greatly confounded, none being able to propose any method of departing, till Joseph at last advised calling in the hostess, and desiring her to trust them ; which Fanny said she despaired of her doing, as she was one of the sourest-faced women she had ever beheld. But she was agreeably disappointed ; for the hostess was no sooner asked the question than she readily agreed ; and, with a curtsy and smile, wished them a good journey. How- ever, lest Fanny's skill in physiognomy should be called in question, we will venture to assign one reason which might probably incline her to this confidence and good-humour. When Adams said he was going to visit his brother, he had 147 THE ADVENTURES OF unwittingly imposed on Joseph and Fanny, who both believed he had meant his natural brother, and not his brother in divinity, and had so informed the hostess, on her inquiry after him. Now Mr Trulliber had, by his professions of piety, by his gravity, austerity, reserve, and the opinion of his great wealth, so great an authority in his parish, that they all lived in the utmost fear and apprehension of him. It was there- fore no wonder that the hostess, who knew it was in his option whether she should ever sell another mug of drink, did not dare to affront his supposed brother by denying him credit. They were now just on their departure when Adams recol- lected he had left his great-coat and hat at Mr Trulliber's. As he was not desirous of renewing his visit, the hostess her- self, having no servant at home, offered to fetch them. This was an unfortunate expedient; for the hostess was soon undeceived in the opinion she had entertained of Adams, whom Trulliber abused in the grossest terms, especially when he heard he had had the assurance to pretend to be his near relation. At her return, therefore, she entirely changed her note. She said, folks might be ashamed of travelling about, and pretending to be what they were not. That taxes were high, and for her part she was obliged to pay for what she had ; she could not therefore possibly, nor would she, trust any- body ; no, not her own father. That money was never scarcer, and she wanted to make up a sum. That she expected, there- fore, they should pay their reckoning before they left the house. Adams was now greatly perplexed; but, as he knew that he could easily have borrowed such a sum in his own parish, and as he knew he would have lent it himself to any mortal in distress, so he took fresh courage, and sallied out all round the parish, but to no purpose ; he returned as pennyless as he went, groaning and lamenting that it was possible, in a country professing Christianity, for a wretch to starve in the midst of his fellow-creatures who abounded. Whilst he was gone, the hostess, who stayed as a sort of guard with Joseph and Fanny, entertained them with the goodness of parson Trulliber. And, indeed, he had not only 148 JOSEPH ANDREWS a very good character as to other qualities in the neighbour- hood, but was reputed a man of great charity ; for, though he never gave a farthing, he had always that word in his mouth. Adams was no sooner returned the second time than the storm grew exceedingly high, the hostess declaring, among other things, that, if they offered to stir without paying her, she would soon overtake them with a warrant. Plato and Aristotle, or somebody else, hath said, that zvhen the most exquisite cunning fails, chance often hits the mark, and that by means the least expected. Virgil expresses this very boldly : — Tunic, quod oplanti diviun promittere nemo Auderet, volvenda dies, en! attulit ultra. I would quote more great men if I could ; but my memory not permitting me, I will proceed to exemplify these observa- tions by the following instance : — There chanced (for Adams had not cunning enough to contrive it) to be at that time in the alehouse a fellow who had been formerly a drummer in an Irish regiment, and now travelled the country as a pedlar. This man, having atten- tively listened to the discourse of the hostess, at last took Adams aside, and asked him what the sum was for which they were detained. As soon as he was informed, he sighed, and said, he was sorry it was so much ; for that he had no more than six shillings and sixpence in his pocket, which he would lend them with all his heart. Adams gave a caper, and cried out, it would do ; for that he had sixpence himself. And thus these poor people, who could not engage the com- passion of riches and piety, were at length delivered out of their distress by the charity of a poor pedlar. I shall refer it to my reader to make what observations he pleases on this incident : it is sufficient for me to inform him that, after Adams and his companions had returned him a thousand thanks, and told him where he might call to be re- paid, they all sallied out of the house without any compli- ments from their hostess, or indeed without paying her any; Adams declaring he would take particular care never to call there again ; and she on her side assuring them she wanted no such guests. 149 THE ADVENTURES OF CHAPTER XVI. A VERY CURIOUS ADVENTURE, IN WHICH MR ADAMS GAVE A MUCH GREATER INSTANCE OF THE HONEST SIMPLICITY OF HIS HEART THAN OF HIS EXPERIENCE IN THE WAYS OF THIS WORLD. OUR travellers had walked about two miles from that inn, which they had more reason to have mistaken for a cas- tle than Don Quixote ever had any of those in which he so- journed, seeing they had met with such difficulty in escaping out of its walls, when they came to a parish, and beheld a sign of invitation hanging out. A gentleman sat smoking a pipe at the door, of whom Adams enquired the road, and received so courteous and obliging an answer, accompanied with so smiling a countenance, that the good parson, whose heart was naturally disposed to love and affection, began to ask several other questions ; particularly the name of the parish, and who was the owner of a large house whose front they then had in prospect. The gentleman answered as obligingly as before ; and as to the house, acquainted him it was his own. He then proceeded in the following manner : " Sir, I presume by your habit you are a clergyman ; and as you are travelling on foot I suppose a glass of good beer will not be disagreeable to you ; and I can recommend my land- lord's within, as some of the best in all this country. What say you, will you halt a little and let us take a pipe together? there is no better tobacco in the kingdom." This proposal was not displeasing to Adams, who had allayed his thirst that day with no better liquor than what Mrs. Trulliber's cellar had produced ; and which was indeed little superior, either in richness or flavour, to that which distilled from those grains her generous husband bestowed on his hogs. Having therefore abundantly thanked the gentleman for his kind invitation, and bid Joseph and Fanny follow him, he entered the alehouse, where a large loaf and cheese and a pitcher of beer, which truly answered the character given of it, being set before them, the three travellers fell to eating, 15° JOSEPH ANDREWS with appetites infinitely more voracious than arc to be found at the most exquisite eating-houses in the parish of St James's. The gentleman expressed great delight in the hearty and cheerful behaviour of Adams; and particularly in the fa- miliarity with which he conversed with Joseph and Fanny, whom he often called his children ; a term he explained to mean no more than his parishioners ; saying, he looked on all those whom God had intrusted to his cure to stand to him in that relation. The gentleman, shaking him by the hand, highly applauded those sentiments. ' They are, in- deed," says he, "the true principles of a Christian divine; and I heartily wish they were universal ; but, on the con- trary, I am sorry to say the parson of our parish, instead of esteeming his poor parishioners as a part of his family, seems rather to consider them as not of the same species with him- self. He seldom speaks to any, unless some few of the rich- est of us ; nay, indeed, he will not move his hat to the others. I often laugh when I behold him on Sundays strutting along the church-yard like a turkey-cock through rows of his pa- rishioners, who bow to him with as much submission, and are as unregarded, as a. set of servile courtiers by the proudest prince in Christendom. But if such temporal pride is ridicu- lous, surely the spiritual is odious and detestable ; if such a puffed-up empty human bladder, strutting in princely robes, just moves one's derision, surely in the habit of a priest it must raise our scorn." " Doubtless," answered Adams, " your opinion is right ; but I hope such examples are rare. The clergy whom I have the honour to know maintain a different behaviour; and you will allow me, sir, that the readiness which too many of the laity show to contemn the order may be one reason of their avoiding too much humility." " Very true, indeed," says the gentleman ; " I find, sir, you are a man of excellent sense, and am happy in this opportunity of knowing you ; perhaps our accidental meeting may not be disadvantageous to you neither. At present I shall only say to you that the incum- bent of this living is old and infirm, and that it is in my gift. Doctor, give me your hand ; and assure yourself of it at his THE ADVENTURES OF decease." Adams told him he was never more confounded in his life than at his utter incapacity to make any return to such noble and unmerited generosity. " A mere trifle, sir," cries the gentleman, " scarce worth your acceptance ; a little more than. three hundred a-year. I wish it was double the value for your sake." Adams bowed, and cried from the emotions of his gratitude ; when the other asked him, if he was married, or had any children, besides those in the spiritual sense he had mentioned. " Sir," replied the parson, " I have a wife and six at your service." " That is unlucky," says the gentleman ; " for I would otherwise have taken you into my own house as my chaplain; however, I have another in the parish (for the parsonage-house is not good enough), which I will fur- nish for you. Pray, does your wife understand a dairy?" " I can't profess she does," says Adams. " I am sorry for it," quoth the gentleman ; " I would have given you half-a-dozen cows, and very good grounds to have maintained them." " Sir," said Adams, in an ecstasy, " you are too liberal ; in- deed you are." " Not at all," cries the gentleman : " I esteem riches only as they give me an opportunity of doing good ; and I never saw one whom I had a greater inclination to serve." At which words he shook him heartily by the hand, and told him he had sufficient room in his house to entertain him and his friends. Adams begged he might give him no such trouble ; that they could be very well accommodated in the house where they were ; forgetting they had not a sixpenny piece among them. The gentleman would not be denied ; and, informing himself how far they were travelling, he said it was too long a journey to take on foot, and begged that they would favour him by suffering him to lend them a servant and horses ; adding, withal, that, if they would do him the pleasure of their company only two days, he would furnish them with his coach and six. Adams, turning to Joseph, said, " How lucky is this gentleman's goodness to you, who I am afraid would be scarce able to hold out on your lame leg ! ' : and then, addressing the person who made him these liberal promises, after much bowing, he cried out, " Blessed be the hour which first introduced me to a man of your charity ! you are indeed a Christian of the true primitive kind, and an hon- i5 2 JOSEPH ANDREWS our to the country wherein you live. I would willingly have taken a pilgrimage to the Holy Land to have beheld you ; for the advantages which we draw from your goodness give me little pleasure, in comparison of what I enjoy for your own sake when I consider the treasures you are by these means laying up for yourself in a country that passeth not away. We will therefore, most generous sir, accept your goodness, as well the entertainment you have so kindly offered us at your house this evening, as the accommodation of your horses to-morrow morning." He then began to search for his hat, as did Joseph for his ; and both they and Fanny were in order of departure, when the gentleman, stopping short, and seem- ing to meditate by himself for the space of about a minute, exclaimed thus : " Sure never any thing was so unlucky ; I had forgot that my housekeeper was gone abroad, and hath locked up all my rooms ; indeed, I would break them open for you, but shall not be able to furnish you with a bed ; for she has likewise put away all my linen. I am glad it entered into my head before I had given you the trouble of walking there ; besides, I believe you will find better accommodations here than you expected. — Landlord, you can provide good beds for these people, can't you ? " " Yes, and please your wor- ship," cries the host, " and such as no lord or justice of the peace in the kingdom need be ashamed to lie in." ' I am heartily sorry," says the gentleman, " for this disappoint- ment. I am resolved I will never suffer her to carry away the keys again." ' Pray, sir, let it not make you uneasy," cries Adams ; " we shall do very well here ; and the loan of your horses is a favour we shall be incapable of making any re- turn to." "Aye!" said the squire, "the horses shall attend you here at what hour in the morning you please ; " and now, after many civilities too tedious to enumerate, many squeezes by the hand, with most affectionate looks and smiles at each other, and after appointing the horses at seven the next morn- ing, the gentleman took his leave of them, and departed to his own house. Adams and his companions returned to the table, where the parson smoked another pipe, and then they all re- tired to rest. Mr Adams rose very early, and called Joseph out of his 153 THE ADVENTURES OF bed, between whom a very fierce dispute ensued, whether Fanny should ride behind Joseph, or behind the gentleman's servant; Joseph insisting on it that he was perfectly recov- ered, and was as capable of taking care of Fanny as any other person could be. But Adams would not agree to it, and de- clared he would not trust her behind him; for that he was weaker than he imagined himself to be. This dispute continued a long time, and had begun to be very hot, when a servant arrived from their good friend, to acquaint them that he was unfortunately prevented from lend- ing them any horses; for that his groom had, unknown to him, put his whole stable under a course of physic. This advice presently struck the two disputants dumb : Adams cried out, " Was ever anything so unlucky as this poor gentleman? I protest I am more sorry on his account than my own. You see, Joseph, how this good-natured man is treated by his servants; one locks up his linen, another physics his horses, and I suppose, by his being at this house last night, the butler had locked up his cellar. Bless us ! how good-nature is used in this world ! I protest I am more con- cerned on his account than my own." ; ' So am not I," cries Joseph ; " not that I am much troubled about walking on foot: all my concern is, how we shall get out of the house, unless God sends another pedlar to redeem us. But certainly this gentleman has such an affection for you, that he would lend you a larger sum than we owe here, which is not above four or five shillings." " Very true, child," answered Adams ; " I will write a letter to him, and will even venture to solicit him for three half-crowns; there will be no harm in having two or three shillings in our pockets ; as we have full forty miles to travel, we may possibly have occasion for them." Fanny being now risen, Joseph paid her a visit, and left Adams to write his letter, which having finished, he de- spatched a boy with it to the gentleman, and then seated him- self by the door, lighted his pipe, and betook himself to medi- tation. The boy staying longer than seemed to be necessary, Jo- seph, who with Fanny was now returned to the parson, ex- pressed some apprehensions that the gentleman's steward had 154 JOSEPH ANDREWS locked up his purse too. To which Adams answered, it might very possibly be, and he should wonder at no liberties which the devil might put into the head of a wicked servant to take with so worthy a master ; but added, that, as the sum was so small, so noble a gentleman would be easily able to procure it in the parish, though he had it not in his own pocket. " Indeed," says he, " if it was four or five guineas, or any such large quantity of money, it might be a different matter." They were now sat down to breakfast over some toast and ale, when the boy returned and informed them that the gen- tleman was not at home. " Very well ! " cries Adams ; " but why, child, did you not stay till his return? Go back again, my good boy, and wait for his coming home ; he cannot be gone far, as his horses are all sick ; and besides, he had no intention to go abroad, for he invited us to spend this day and to-morrow at his house. Therefore go back, child, and tarry till his return home." The messenger departed, and was back again with great expedition, bringing an account that the gentleman was gone a long journey, and would not be at home again this month. At these words Adams seemed greatly confounded, saying, " This must be a sudden accident, as the sickness or death of a relation or some such unforeseen misfortune ; " and then, turning to Joseph, cried, " I wish you had reminded me to have borrowed this money last night." Joseph, smiling, answered, he was very much deceived if the gentleman would not have found some excuse to avoid lend- ing it. — " I own," says he, " I was never much pleased with his professing so much kindness for you at first sight ; for I have heard the gentlemen of our cloth in London tell many such stories of their masters. But when the boy brought the message back of his not being at home, I presently knew what would follow ; for, whenever a man of fashion doth not care to fulfil his promises, the custom is to order his servants that he will never be at home to the person so promised. In London they call it denying him. I have myself denied Sir Thomas Booby above a hundred times, and when the man hath danced attendance for about a month, or sometimes longer, he is acquainted in the end that the gentleman is gone J 55 THE ADVENTURES OF out of town and could do nothing in the business." — " Good Lord! " says Adams, " what wickedness is therein the Chris- tian world ! I profess almost equal to what I have read of the heathens. But surely, Joseph, your suspicions of this gentle- man must be unjust, for what a silly fellow must he be who would do the devil's work for nothing! and canst thou tell me any interest he could possibly propose to himself by de- ceiving us in his professions? " — " It is not for me," answered Joseph, " to give reasons for what men do to a gentleman of your learning." — " You say right," quoth Adams ; " know- ledge of men is only to be learnt from books ; Plato and Seneca for that ; and those are authors, I am afraid, child, you never read." — " Not I, sir, truly," answered Joseph ; " all I know is, it is a maxim among the gentlemen of our cloth, that those masters who promise the most perform the least; and I have often heard them say they have found the largest vails in those families where they were not promised any. But, sir, instead of considering any farther these matters, it would be our wisest way to contrive some method of getting out of this house; for the generous gentleman, instead of doing us any service, hath left us the whole reckoning to pay." Adams was going to answer, when their host came in, and, with a kind of jeering smile, said, " Well, masters ! the squire hath not sent his horses for you yet. Laud help me! how easily some folks make promises ! " — " How ! " says Adams ; " have you ever known him do anything of this kind be- fore?" — "Aye! marry have I," answered the host: "it is no business of mine, you know, sir, to say anything to a gen- tleman to his face ; but now he is not here, I will assure you, he hath not his fellow within the three next market-towns. I own I could not help laughing when I heard him offer you the living, for thereby hangs a good jest. I thought he would have offered you my house next, for one is no more his to dispose of than the other." At these words Adams, blessing himself, declared, he had never read of such a monster. " But what vexes me most," says he, " is, that he hath decoyed us into running up a long debt with you, which we are not able to pay, for we have no money about us, and, what is worse, live at such a distance, that if you should trust us, I am afraid 156 JOSEPH ANDREWS you would lose your money for want of our finding any con- veniency of sending it." — " Trust you, master ! " says the host, " that I will with all my heart. I honour the clergy too much to deny trusting one of them for such a trifle; besides, I like your fear of never paying me. I have lost many a debt in my life-time, but was promised to be paid them all in a very short time. I will score this reckoning for the novelty of it. It is the first, I do assure you, of its kind. But what say you, master, shall we have t'other pot before we part? It will waste but a little chalk more, and if you never pay me a shilling the loss will not ruin me." Adams liked the invi- tation very well, especially as it was delivered with so hearty an accent. He shook his host by the hand, and thanking him, said, he would tarry another pot rather for the pleasure of such worthy company than for the liquor; adding, he was glad to find some Christians left in the kingdom, for that he almost began to suspect that he was sojourning in a country inhabited only by Jews and Turks. The kind host produced the liquor, and Joseph with Fanny retired into the garden, where, while they solaced themselves with amorous discourse, Adams sat down with his host ; and, both filling their glasses, and lighting their pipes, they began that dialogue which the reader will find in the next chapter. CHAPTER XVII. A DIALOGUE BETWEEN MR ABRAHAM ADAMS AND HIS HOST, WHICH, BY THE DISAGREEMENT IN THEIR OPINIONS, SEEMED TO THREATEN AN UNLUCKY CATASTROPHE, HAD IT NOT BEEN TIMELY PREVENTED BY THE RETURN OF THE LOVERS. "■1 I v llaUfc?.;, F. -was?' ' JOSEPH ANDREWS more blood into her face than had flowed from Joseph's nostrils. The snowy hue of her bosom was likewise changed to vermilion at the instant when she clapped her handker- chief round her neck. Joseph saw the uneasiness she suf- fered, and immediately removed his eyes from an object, in surveying which he had felt the greatest delight which the organs of sight were capable of conveying to his soul ; — so great was his fear of offending her, and so truly did his pas- sion for her deserve the noble name of love. Fanny, being recovered from her confusion, which was almost equalled by what Joseph had felt from observing it, again mentioned her request ; this was instantly and gladly complied with ; and together they crossed two or three fields, which brought them to the habitation of Mr Adams. CHAPTER VIII. A DISCOURSE WHICH HAPPENED BETWEEN MR ADAMS, MRS ADAMS, JOSEPH, AND FANNY; WITH SOME BEHAVIOUR OF MR ADAMS WHICH WILL BE CALLED BY SOME FEW READERS VERY LOW, ABSURD, AND UNNATURAL. THE parson and his wife had just ended a long dispute when the lovers came to the door. Indeed, this young couple had been the subject of the dispute ; for Mrs Adams was one of those prudent people who never do anything to injure their families, or, perhaps, one of those good mothers who would even stretch their conscience to serve their chil- dren. She had long entertained hopes of seeing her eldest daughter succeeded Mrs Slipslop, and of making her second son an exciseman by Lady Booby's interest. These were ex- pectations she could not endure the thoughts of quitting, and was, therefore, very uneasy to see her husband so resolute to oppose the lady's intention in Fanny's affair. She told him, it behoved every man to take the first care of his family ; that he had a wife and six children, the maintaining and providing for whom would be business enough for him without inter- meddling in other folks' affairs ; that he had always preached 281 THE ADVENTURES OF up submission to superiors, and would do ill to give an exam- ple of the contrary behaviour in his own conduct ; that if Lady Booby did wrong she must answer for it herself, and the sin would not lie at their door; that Fanny had been a servant, and bred up in the lady's own family, and consequently she must have known more of her than they did, and it was very improbable, if she had behaved herself well, that the lady would have been so bitterly her enemy; that perhaps he was too much inclined to think well of her because she was hand- some, but handsome women were often no better than they should be ; that God made ugly women as well as handsome ones; and that if a woman had virtue it signified nothing whether she had beauty or no." For all which reasons she concluded he should oblige the lady, and stop the future pub- lication of the banns. But all these excellent arguments had no effect on the parson, who persisted in doing his duty with- out regarding the consequence it might have on his worldly interest. He endeavoured to answer her as well as he could ; to which she had just finished her reply (for she had always the last word everywhere but at church) when Joseph and Fanny entered their kitchen, where the parson and his wife then sat at breakfast over some bacon and cabbage. There was a coldness in the civility of Mrs Adams which persons of accurate speculation might have observed, but escaped her present guests; indeed, it was a good deal covered by the heartiness of Adams, who no sooner heard that Fanny had neither eat nor drank that morning than he presented her a bone of bacon he had just been gnawing, being the only re- mains of his provision, and then ran nimbly to the tap, and produced a mug of small beer, which he called ale ; however, it was the best in his house. Joseph, addressing himself to the parson, told him the discourse which had past between Squire Booby, his sister, and himself, concerning Fanny; he then acquainted him with the dangers whence he had rescued her, and communicated some apprehensions on her account. He concluded that he should never have an easy moment till Fanny was absolutely his, and begged that he might be suf- fered to fetch a licence, saying he could easily borrow the money. The parson answered, that he had already given his 282 JOSEPH ANDREWS sentiments concerning a licence, and that a very few days would make it unnecessary. " Joseph," says he, " I wish this haste doth not arise rather from your impatience than your fear ; but, as it certainly springs from one of these causes, I will examine both. Of each of these therefore in their turn ; and first for the first of these, namely, impatience. Now, child, I must inform you that, if in your purposed marriage with this young woman you have no intention but the indul- gence of carnal appetites, you are guilty of a very heinous sin. Marriage was ordained for nobler purposes, as you will learn when you hear the service provided on that occasion read to you. Nay, perhaps, if you are a good lad, I shall give you a sermon gratis, wherein I shall demonstrate how little regard ought to be had to the flesh on such occasions. The text will be, child, Matthew the 5th, and part of the 28th verse — Who- soever looketh on a zvoman, so as to lust after her. The lat- ter part I shall omit, as foreign to my purpose. Indeed, all such brutal lusts and affections are to be greatly subdued, if not totally eradicated, before the vessel can be said to be consecrated to honour. To marry with a view of gratifying those inclinations is a prostitution of that holy ceremony, and must entail a curse on all who so lightly undertake it. If, therefore, this haste arises from impatience, you are to cor- rect, and not give way to it. Now, as to the second head which I proposed to speak to, namely, fear : it argues a diffi- dence, highly criminal, of that Power in which alone we should put our trust, seeing we may be well assured that he is able, not only to defeat the designs of our enemies, but even to turn their hearts. Instead of taking, therefore, any unjus- tifiable or desperate means to rid ourselves of fear, we should resort to prayer only on these occasions ; and we may be then certain of obtaining what is best for us. When any accident threatens us we are not to despair, nor, when it overtakes us, to grieve ; we must submit in all things to the will of Provi- dence, and not set our affections so much on anything here as not to be able to quit it without reluctance. You are a young man, and can know but little of this world ; I am older, and have seen a great deal. All passions are criminal in their ex- cess; and even love itself, if it is not subservient to our duty, 283 THE ADVENTURES OF mav render us blind to it. Had Abraham so loved his son Isaac as to refuse the sacrifice required, is there any of us who would not condemn him? Joseph, I know your many good qualities, and value you for them ; but, as I am to render an account of your soul, which is committed to my cure, I cannot see any fault without reminding you of it. You are too much inclined to passion, child, and have set your affections so ab- solutely on this young woman, that, if God required her at your hands, I fear you would reluctantly part with her. Now, believe me, no Christian ought so to set his heart on any per- son or thing in this world, but that, whenever it shall be re- quired or taken from him in any manner by Divine Provi- dence, he may be able, peaceably, quietly, and contentedly to resign it." At which words one came hastily in, and ac- quainted Mr Adams that his youngest son was drowned. He stood silent a moment, and soon began to stamp about the room and deplore his loss with the bitterest agony. Joseph, who was overwhelmed with concern likewise, recovered him- self sufficiently to endeavour to comfort the parson ; in which attempt he used many arguments that he had at several times remembered out of his own discourses, both in private and public (for he was a great enemy to the passions, and preached nothing more than the conquest of them by reason and grace), but he was not at leisure now to hearken to his advice. " Child, child," said he, " do not go about impossibili- ties. Had it been any other of my children I could have borne it with patience ; but my little prattler, the darling and com- fort of my old age, — the little wretch, to be snatched out of life just at his entrance into it; the sweetest, best-tempered boy, who never did a thing to offend me. It was but this morning I gave him his first lesson in Quce Genus. This was the very book he learnt ; poor child ! it is of no further use to thee now. He would have made the best scholar, and have been an ornament to the church ; — such parts and such good- ness never met in one so young." " And the handsomest lad too," says Mrs Adams, recovering from a swoon in Fanny's arms. " My poor Jacky, shall I never see thee more ? " cries the parson. " Yes, surely," says Joseph, " and in a better place ; you will meet again, never to part more." I believe the 284 JOSEPH ANDREWS parson did not hear these words, for he paid little regard to them, but went on lamenting, whilst the tears trickled down into his bosom. At last he cried out, " Where is my little dar- ling? " and was sallying out, when to his great surprize and joy, in which I hope the reader will sympathize, he met his son in a wet condition indeed, but alive and running towards him. The person who brought the news of his misfortune had been a little too eager, as people sometimes are, from, I be- lieve, no very good principle, to relate ill news ; and, having seen him fall into the river, instead of running to his assis- tance, directly ran to acquaint his father of a fate which he had concluded to be inevitable, but whence the child was re- lieved by the same poor pedlar who had relieved his father before from a less distress. The parson's joy was now as ex- travagant as his grief had been before ; he kissed and em- braced his son a thousand times, and danced about the room like one frantic ; but as soon as he discovered the face of his old friend the pedlar, and heard the fresh obligation he had to him, what were his sensations ? not those which two courtiers feel in one another's embraces ; not those with which a great man receives the vile treacherous engines of his wicked pur- poses, not those with which a worthless younger brother wishes his elder joy of a son, or a man congratulates his rival on his obtaining a mistress, a place, or an honour. — No, reader; he felt the ebullition, the overflowings of a full, honest, open heart, towards the person who had conferred a real obligation, and of which, if thou canst not conceive an idea within, I will not vainly endeavour to assist thee. When these tumults were over, the parson, taking Joseph aside, proceeded thus — " No, Joseph, do not give too much way to thy passions, if thou dost expect happiness." The pa- tience of Joseph, nor perhaps of Job, could bear no longer ; he interrupted the parson, saying, it was easier to give advice than to take it ; nor did he perceive he could so entirely con- quer himself, when he apprehended he had lost his son, or when he found him recovered. — " Boy," replied Adams, rais- ing his voice, " it doth not become green heads to advise grey hairs. — Thou art ignorant of the tenderness of fatherly affec- tion ; when thou art a father thou wilt be capable then only of 285 THE ADVENTURES OF knowing what a father can feel. No man is obliged to im- possibilities ; and the loss of a child is one of those great trials where our grief may be allowed to become immoderate." — " Well, sir," cries Joseph, " and if I love a mistress as well as you your child, surely her loss would grieve me equally." — ' Yes, but such love is foolishness and wrong in itself, and ought to be conquered," answered Adams ; " it savours too much of the flesh." — " Sure, sir," says Joseph, " it is not sin- ful to love my wife, no, not even to doat on her to distrac- tion ! " — " Indeed but it is," says Adams. "Every man ought to love his wife, no doubt ; we are commanded so to do ; but we ought to love her with moderation and discretion." — " I am afraid I shall be guilty of some sin in spite of all my endeav- ours," says Joseph ; " for I shall love without any moderation, I am sure." — " You talk foolishly and childishly," cries Adams. — " Indeed," says Mrs Adams, who had listened to the latter part of their conversation, " you talk more foolishly yourself. I hope, my dear, you will never preach any such doctrine as that husbands can love their wives too well. If I knew you had such a sermon in the house I am sure I would burn it, and I declare, if I had not been convinced you had loved me as well as you could, I can answer for myself, I should have hated and despised you. Marry come up ! Fine doctrine, indeed! A wife hath a right to insist on her hus- band's loving her as much as ever he can ; and he is a sinful villain who doth not. Doth he not promise to love her, and to comfort her, and to cherish her, and all that ? I am sure I re- member it all as well as if I had repeated it over but yesterday, and shall never forget it. Besides, I am certain you do not preach as you practise ; for you have been a loving and a cher- ishing husband to me ; that's the truth on't ; and why you should endeavour to put such wicked nonsense into this young man's head I cannot devise. Don't hearken to him, Mr Jo- seph ; be as good a husband as you are able, and love your wife with all your body and soul too." Here a violent rap at the door put an end to their discourse, and produced a scene which the reader will find in the next chapter. 286 JOSEPH ANDREWS CHAPTER IX. A VISIT WHICH THE POLITE LADY BOOBY AND HER POLITE FRIEND PAID TO THE PARSON. THE Lady Booby had no sooner had an account from the gentleman of his meeting a wonderful beauty near her house, and perceived the raptures with which he spoke of her, than, immediately concluding it must be Fanny, she began to meditate a design of bringing them better acquainted ; and to entertain hopes that the fine clothes, presents, and promises of this youth, would prevail on her to abandon Joseph : she there- fore proposed to her company a walk in the fields before din- ner, when she led them towards Mr Adams's house ; and, as she approached it, told them if they pleased she would divert them with one of the most ridiculous sights they had ever seen, which was an old foolish parson, who, she said, laugh- ing, kept a wife and six brats on a salary of about twenty pounds a year ; adding, that there was not such another ragged family in the parish. They all readily agreed to this visit, and arrived whilst Mrs Adams was declaiming as in the last chapter. Beau Didapper, which was the name of the young gentleman we have seen riding towards Lady Booby's, with his cane mimicked the rap of a London footman at the door. The people within, namely, Adams, his wife and three children, Joseph, Fanny, and the pedlar, were all thrown into confusion by this knock, but Adams went directly to the door, which being opened, the Lady Booby and her company walked in, and were received by the parson with about two hundred bows, and by his wife with as many curtsies ; the lat- ter telling the ladv she was ashamed to be seen in such a pickle, and that her house was in such a litter ; but that if she had expected such an honour from her ladyship she should have found her in a better manner. The parson made no apologies, though he was in his half-cassock and a flannel night-cap. He said they were heartily welcome to his poor cottage, and, turning to Mr Didapper, cried out, " Non mea renidct in domo lacunar." The beau answered, he did not un- 287 THE ADVENTURES OF derstand Welsh; at which the parson stared and made no reply. Mr Didapper, or beau Didapper, was a young gentleman of about four foot five inches in height. He wore his own hair, though the scarcity of it might have given him sufficient excuse for a periwig. His face was thin and pale ; the shape of his body and legs none of the best, for he had very narrow shoulders and no calf ; and his gait might more properly be called hopping than walking. The qualifications of his mind were well adapted to his person. We shall handle them first negatively. He was not entirely ignorant ; for he could talk a little French and sing two or three Italian songs : he had lived too much in the world to be bashful, and too much at court to be proud : he seemed not much inclined to avarice, for he was profuse in his expenses ; nor had he all the features of prodigality, for he never gave a shilling : no hater of women, for he always dangled after them; yet so little subject to lust, that he had, among those who knew him best, the character of great moderation in his pleasures : no drinker of wine ; nor so addicted to passion but that a hot word or two from an adver- sary made him immediately cool. Now, to give him only a dash or two on the affirmative side : though he was born to an immense fortune, he chose, for the pitiful and dirty consideration of a place of little consequence, to depend entirely on the will of a fellow whom they call a great man ; who treated him with the utmost disrespect, and exacted of him a plenary obedience to his commands, which he implicitly submitted to, at the expense of his conscience, his honour, and of his country, in which he had himself so very large a share. And to finish his character ; as he was entirely well satisfied with his own person and parts, so he was very apt to ridicule and laugh at any imperfection in another. Such was the little person, or rather thing, that hopped after Lady Booby into Mr Adams's kitchen. The parson and his company retreated from the chimney- side, where they had been seated, to give room to the lady and hers. Instead of returning any of the curtsies or extraordi- nary civility of Mr Adams, the lady, turning to Mr Booby, cried out, "Quelle Bete! Quel Animal!" And presently 288 JOSEPH ANDREWS after discovering Fanny (for she did not need the circum- stance of her standing by Joseph to assure the identity of her person), she asked the beau whether he did not think her a pretty girl? — " Begad, madam," answered he, " 'tis the very same I met." " I did not imagine," replied the lady, " you had so good a taste." — " Because I never liked you, I war- rant," cries the beau. " Ridiculous ! " said she : " you know you was always my aversion." " I would never mention aver- sion," answered the beau, "with that face ; * dear Lady Booby, wash your face before you mention aversion, I beseech you." He then laughed, and turned about to coquet it with Fanny. Mrs Adams had been all this time begging and praying the ladies to sit down, a favour which she at last obtained. The little boy to whom the accident had happened, still keeping his place by the fire, was chid by his mother for not being more mannerly : but Lady Booby took his part, and commending his beauty, told the parson he was his very picture. She then, seeing a book in his hand, asked if he could read? — "Yes," cried Adams, " a little Latin, madam : he is just got into Quae Genus." — " A fig for quere genius ! " answered she ; " let me hear him read a little English." — " Lege, Dick, lege," said Adams : but the boy made no answer, till he saw the parson knit his brows, and then cried, " I don't understand you, father." — " How, boy ! " says Adams ; " what doth lego make in the imperative mood? Legito, doth it not? " — " Yes," an- swered Dick. — "And what besides?" says the father. "Lege," quoth the son, after some hesitation. " A good boy," says the father: " and now, child, what is the English of lego? " — To which the boy, after long puzzling, answered, he could not tell. " How ! " cries Adams, in a passion ; — " what, hath the water washed away your learning? Why, what is Latin for the English verb read? Consider before you speak." The child considered some time, and then the parson cried twice or thrice, " Le— , Le— ." Dick answered, " Lego." — " Very well ; — and then what is the English," says the parson, " of * Lest this should appear unnatural to some readers, we think proper to acquaint them, that it is taken verbatim from very polite conver- sation. 19 289 THE ADVENTURES OF the verb lego? "— " To read," cried Dick.—" Very well," said the parson ; " a good boy : you can do well if you will take pains. — I assure your ladyship he is not much above eight years old, and is out of his Propria quae Maribus already. — Come, Dick, read to her ladyship ; "—which she again desir- ing, in order to give the beau time and opportunity with Fanny, Dick began as in the following chapter. CHAPTER X. THE HISTORY OF TWO FRIENDS, WHICH MAY AFFORD AN USE- FUL LESSON TO ALL THOSE PERSONS WHO HAPPEN TO TAKE UP THEIR RESIDENCE IN MARRIED FAMILIES. LEONARD and Paul were two friends." — " Pronounce it / Lennard, child," cried the parson.—" Pray, Mr Adams," says Lady Booby, " let your son read without interruption." Dick then proceeded. " Lennard and Paul were two friends, who, having been educated together at the same school, com- menced a friendship which they preserved a long time for each other. It was so deeply fixed in both their minds, that a long absence, during which they had maintained no correspondence, did not eradicate nor lessen it : but it revived in all its force at their first meeting, which was not till after fifteen years' absence, most of which time Lennard had spent in the East Indi-es." — " Pronounce it short, Indies," says Adams. " Pray, sir, be quiet," says the lady. — The boy repeated, — " in the East Indies, whilst Paul had served his king and country in the army. In which different services they had found such different success, that Lennard was now married, and retired with a fortune of thirty thousand pounds; and Paul was arrived to the degree of a lieutenant of foot; and was not worth a single shilling. " The regiment in which Paul was stationed happened to be ordered into quarters within a small distance from the estate which Lennard had purchased, and where he was settled. This latter, who was now become a country gentleman, and a justice of peace, came to attend the quarter sessions in the town where his old friend was quartered, soon after his arrival. 290 JOSEPH ANDREWS Some affair in which a soldier was concerned occasioned Paul to attend the justices. Manhood, and time, and the change of climate, had so much altered Lennard, that Paul did not immediately recollect the features of his old acquain- tance : but it was otherwise with Lennard. He knew Paul the moment he saw him ; nor could he contain himself from quitting the bench, and running hastily to embrace him. Paul stood first a little surprized ; but had soon sufficient informa- tion from his friend, whom he no sooner remembered than he returned his embrace with a passion which made many of the spectators laugh, and gave to some few a much higher and more agreeable sensation. " Not to detain the reader with minute circumstances, Len- nard insisted on his friend's returning with him to his house that evening ; which request was complied with, and leave for a month's absence for Paul obtained of the commanding officer. " If it was possible for any circumstance to give any addi- tion to the happiness which Paul proposed in this visit, he received that additional pleasure by finding, on his arrival at his friend's house, that his lady was an old acquaintance which he had formerly contracted at his quarters, and who had always appeared to be of a most agreeable temper; a character she had ever maintained among her intimates, being of that number, every individual of which is called quite the best sort of woman in the world. " But, good as this lady was, she was still a woman ; that is to say, an angel, and not an angel." — " You must mistake, child," cries the parson, " for you read nonsense." — " It is so in the book," answered the son. Mr Adams was then silenced by authority, and Dick proceeded. — " For though her person was of that kind to which men attribute the name of angel, yet in her mind she was perfectly woman. Of which a great degree of obstinacy gave the most remarkable and perhaps most pernicious instance. " A day or two passed after Paul's arrival before any in- stances of this appeared; but it was impossible to conceal it long. Both she and her husband soon lost all apprehension from their friend's presence, and fell to their disputes with as much vigour as ever. These were still pursued with the 291 THE ADVENTURES OF utmost ardour and eagerness, however trifling the causes were whence they first arose. Nay, however incredible it may seem, the little consequence of the matter in debate was frequently given as a reason for the fierceness of the contention, as thus : ' If you loved me, sure you would never dispute with me such a trifle as this.' The answer to which is very ob- vious; for the argument would hold equally on both sides, and was constantly retorted with some addition, as — ' I am sure I have much more reason to say so, who am in the right.' During all these disputes, Paul always kept strict silence, and preserved an even countenance, without showing the least visible inclination to either party. One day, however, when madam had left the room in a violent fury, Lennard could not refrain from referring his cause to his friend. Was ever any- thing so unreasonable, says he, as this woman? What shall I do with her ? I doat on her to distraction ; nor have I any cause to complain of, more than this obstinacy in her temper ; whatever she asserts, she will maintain against all the reason and conviction in the world. Pray give me your advice. — First, says Paul, I will give my opinion, which is, flatly, that you are in the wrong ; for, supposing she is in the wrong, was the subject of your contention any ways material? What signified it whether you was married in a red or a yellow waistcoat ? for that was your dispute. Now, suppose she was mistaken ; as you love her you say so tenderly, and I believe she deserves it, would it not have been wiser to have yielded, though you certainly knew yourself in the right, than to give either her or yourself any uneasiness? For my own part, if ever I marry,I am resolved to enter into an agreement with my wife, that in all disputes (especially about trifles) that party who is most convinced they are right shall always surrender the victory ; by which means we shall both be forward to give up the cause. I own, said Lennard, my dear friend, shaking him by the hand, there is great truth and reason in what you say; and I will for the future endeavour to follow your advice. They soon after broke up the conversation, and Len- nard, going to his wife, asked her pardon, and told her his friend had convinced him he had been in the wrong. She immediately began a vast encomium on Paul, in which he seconded her, and both agreed he was the worthiest and wisest 292 JOSEPH ANDREWS man upon earth. When next they met, which was at supper, though she had promised not to mention what her husband told her, she could not forbear casting the kindest and most affectionate looks on Paul, and asked him, with the sweetest voice, whether she should help him to some potted woodcock ? Potted partridge, my dear, you mean, says the husband. My dear, says she, I ask your friend if he will eat any potted woodcock ; and I am sure I must know, who potted it. I think I should know too, who shot them, replied the husband, and I am convinced that I have not seen a woodcock this year ; however, though I know I am in the right, I submit, and the potted partridge is potted woodcock if you desire to have it so. It is equal to me, says she, whether it is one or the other ; but you would persuade one out of one's senses ; to be sure, you are always in the right in your own opinion; but your friend, I believe, knows which he is eating. Paul an- swered nothing, and the dispute continued, as usual, the greatest part of the evening. The next morning the lady, accidentally meeting Paul, and being convinced he was her friend, and of her side, accosted him thus : — I am certain, sir, you have long since wondered at the unreasonableness of my husband. He is indeed, in other respects, a good sort of man, but so positive, that no woman but one of my complying temper could possibly live with him. Why, last night, now, was ever any creature so unreasonable? I am certain you must condemn him. Pray, answer me, was he not in the wrong? Paul, after a short silence, spoke as follows: I am sorry, madam, that, as good manners obliges me to answer against my will, so an adherence to truth forces me to declare myself of a different opinion. To be plain and honest, you was entirely in the wrong; the cause I own not worth dis- puting, but the bird was undoubtedly a partridge. O sir! replied the lady, I cannot possibly help your taste. Madam, returned Paul, that is very little material; for, had it been otherwise, a husband might have expected submission. — In- deed ! sir, says she, I assure you ! — Yes, madam, cried he, he might, from a person of your excellent understanding; and pardon me for saying, such a condescension would have shown a superiority of sense even to your husband himself. — But, dear sir, said she, why should I submit when I am in the 2 93 THE ADVENTURES OF right? — For that very reason, answered he; it would be the greatest instance of affection imaginable; for can anything be a greater object of our compassion than a person we love in the wrong? Aye, but I should endeavour, said she, to set him right. Pardon me, madam, answered Paul: I will apply to your own experience if you ever found your argu- ments had that effect. The more our judgments err, the less we are willing to own it : for my own part, I have always observed the persons who maintain the worst side in any contest are the warmest. Why, says she, I must confess there is truth in what you say, and I will endeavour to prac- tise it. The husband then coming in, Paul departed. And Lennard, approaching his wife with the air of good humour, told her he was sorry for their foolish dispute the last night ; but he was now convinced of his error. She answered, smiling, she believed she owed his condescension to his com- placence; that she was ashamed to think a word had passed on so silly an occasion, especially as she was satisfied she had been mistaken. A little contention- followed, but with the utmost good-will to each other, and was concluded by her as- serting that Paul had thoroughly convinced her she had been in the wrong. Upon which they both united in the praises of their common friend. " Paul now passed his time with great satisfaction, these disputes being much less frequent, as well as shorter than usual ; but the devil, or some unlucky accident in which per- haps the devil had no hand, shortly put an end to his hap- piness. He was now eternally the private referee of every difference ; in which, after having perfectly, as he thought, established the doctrine of submission, he never scrupled to assure both privately that they were in the right in every argument, as before he had followed the contrary method. One day a violent litigation happened in his absence, and both parties agreed to refer it to his decision. The husband professing himself sure the decision would be in his favour; the wife answered, he might be mistaken; for she believed his friend was convinced how seldom she was to blame; and that if he knew all — The husband replied, My dear, I have no desire of any retrospect ; but I believe, if you knew all too, you would not imagine my friend so entirely on your 294 JOSEPH ANDREWS side. Nay, says she, since you provoke me, I will mention one instance. You may remember our dispute about sending Jackey to school in cold weather, which point I gave up to you from mere compassion, knowing myself to be in the right ; and Paul himself told me afterwards he thought me so. My dear, replied the husband, I will not scruple your veracity; but I assure you solemnly, on my applying to him, he gave it absolutely on my side, and said he would have acted in the same manner. They then proceeded to produce numberless other instances, in all which Paul had, on vows of secresy, given his opinion on both sides. In the conclu- sion, both believing each other, they fell severely on the treachery of Paul, and agreed that he had been the occasion of almost every dispute which had fallen out between them. They then became extremely loving, and so full of conde- scension on both sides, that they vied with each other in cen- suring their own conduct, and jointly vented their indignation on Paul, whom the wife, fearing a bloody consequence, ear- nestly entreated her husband to suffer quietly to depart the next day, which was the time fixed for his return to quarters, and then drop his acquaintance. " However ungenerous this behaviour in Lennard may be esteemed, his wife obtained a promise from him (though with difficulty) to follow her advice; but they both expressed such unusual coldness that day to Paul, that he, who was quick of apprehension, taking Lennard aside, pressed him so home, that he at last discovered the secret. Paul acknowledged the truth, but told him the design with which he had done it. — To which the other answered, he would have acted more friendly to have let him into the whole design ; for that he might have assured himself of his secresy. Paul replied, with some indignation, he had given him a sufficient proof how ca- pable he was of concealing a secret from his wife. Lennard returned with some warmth — he had more reason to upbraid him, for that he had caused most of the quarrels between them by his strange conduct, and might (if they had not discovered the affair to each other) have been the occasion of their sepa- ration. Paul then said " — But something now happened which put a stop to Dick's reading, and of which we shall treat in the next chapter. 2 95 THE ADVENTURES OF CHAPTER XL IN WHICH THE HISTORY IS CONTINUED. JOSEPH ANDREWS had borne with great uneasiness the impertinence of Beau Didapper to Fanny, who had been talking pretty freely to her, and offering her settlements ; but the respect to the company had restrained him from inter- ferine whilst the beau confined himself to the use of his tongue only; but the said beau, watching an opportunity whilst the ladies' eyes were disposed another way, offered a rudeness to her with his hands; which Joseph no sooner perceived than he presented him with so sound a box on the ear, that it conveyed him several paces from where he stood. The ladies immediately screamed out, rose from their chairs; and the beau, as soon as he recovered himself, drew his hanger ; which Adams observing, snatched up the lid of a pot in his left hand, and, covering himself with it as with a shield, without any weapon of offence in his other hand, stept in before Joseph, and exposed himself to the enraged beau, who threatened such perdition and destruction, that it frightened the women, who were all got in a huddle together, out of their wits, even to hear his denunciations of vengeance. Joseph was of a dif- ferent complexion, and begged Adams to let his rival come on ; for he had a good cudgel in his hand, and did not fear him. Fanny now fainted into Mrs Adams's arms, and the whole room was in confusion, when Mr Booby, passing by Adams, who lay snug under the pot-lid, came up to Di- dapper, and insisted on his sheathing his hanger, promising he should have satisfaction ; which Joseph declared he would give him, and fight him at any weapon whatever. The beau now sheathed his hanger, and taking out a pocket-glass, and vowing vengeance all the time, re-adjusted his hair; the par- son deposited his shield ; and Joseph, running to Fanny, soon brought her back to life. Lady Booby chid Joseph for his insult on Didapper ; but he answered, he would have attacked an army in the same cause. "What cause?" said the lady. "Madam," answered Joseph, "he was rude to that young 296 JOSEPH ANDREWS woman." — "What," says the lady, "I suppose he would have kissed the wench ; and is a gentleman to be struck for such an offer? I must tell you, Joseph, these airs do not become you."—" Madam," said Mr Booby, " I saw the whole affair, and I do not commend my brother ; for I cannot perceive why he should take upon him to be this girl's champion." — " I can commend him," says Adams : " he is a brave lad ; and it be- comes any man to be the champion of the innocent; and he must be the basest coward who would not vindicate a woman with whom he is on the brink of marriage." — " Sir," says Mr Booby, " my brother is not a proper match for such a young woman as this." — " No," says Lady Booby ; " nor do you, Mr. Adams, act in your proper character by encouraging any such doings ; and I am very much surprised you should concern yourself in it. I think your wife and family your properer care." — " Indeed, madam, your ladyship says very true," an- swered Mrs Adams ; " he talks a pack of nonsense, that the whole parish are his children. I am sure I don't understand what he means by it; it would make some women suspect he had gone astray, but I acquit him of that ; I can read scripture as well as he, and I never found that the parson was obliged to provide for other folks' children ; and besides, he is but a poor curate, and hath little enough, as your ladyship knows, for me and mine." — " You say very well, Mrs Adams," quoth the Lady Booby, who had not spoke a word to her before ; "you seem to be a very sensible woman ; and I assure you, your husband is acting a very foolish part, and opposing his own interest, seeing my nephew is violently set against this match ; and indeed I can't blame him ; it is by no means one suitable to our family." In this manner the lady proceeded with Mrs Adams, whilst the beau hopped about the room, shaking his head, partly from pain and partly from anger ; and Pamela was chicling Fanny for her assurance in aiming at such a match as her brother. Poor Fanny answered only with her tears, which had long since begun to wet her hand- kerchief ; which Joseph perceiving, took her by the arm, and wrapping it in his carried her off, swearing he would own no relation to any one who was an enemy to her he loved more than all the world. He went out with Fanny under his left arm, brandishing a cudgel in his right, and neither Mr Booby 297 THE ADVENTURES OF nor the beau thought proper to oppose hm. Lady Booby and her company made a very short stay behind him; for the lady's bell now summoned them to dress; for which they had just time before dinner. Adams seemed now very much dejected, which his wife perceiving, began to apply some matrimonial balsam. She told him he had reason to be concerned, for that he had prob- ably ruined his family with his tricks; but perhaps he was grieved for the loss of his two children, Joseph and Fanny. His eldest daughter went on : " Indeed, father, it is very hard to bring strangers here to eat your children's bread out of their mouths. You have kept them ever since they came home; and, for anything I see to the contrary, may keep them a month longer ; are you obliged to give her meat, tho'f she was never so handsome? But I don't see she is so much handsomer than other people. If people were to be kept for their beauty, she would scarce fare better than her neigh- bours, I believe. As for Mr Joseph, I have nothing to say : he is a young man of honest principles, and will pay some time or other for what he hath ; but for the girl, — why doth she not return to her place she ran away from ? I would not give such a vagabond slut a halfpenny though I had a million of money; no, though she was starving." "Indeed but I would," cries little Dick; "and, father, rather than poor Fanny shall be starved, I will give her all this bread and cheese" — (offering what he held in his hand). Adams smiled on the boy, and told him he rejoiced to see he was a Christian; and that, if he had a halfpenny in his pocket, he would have given it him; telling him it was his duty to look upon all his neighbours as his brothers and sisters, and love them accordingly. "Yes, papa," says he, "I love her better than my sisters, for she is handsomer than any of them." ' Is she so, saucebox ? " says the sister, giving him a box on the ear; which the father would probably have re- sented, had not Joseph, Fanny, and the pedlar at that instant returned together. Adams bid his wife prepare some food for their dinner; she said, truly she could not, she had something else to do. Adams rebuked her for disputing his commands, and quoted many texts of scripture to prove that the husband is the head of the wife, and she is to 298 JOSEPH ANDREWS submit and obey. The wife answered, it was blasphemy to talk scripture out of church; that such things were very proper to be said in the pulpit, but that it was profane to talk them in common discourse. Joseph told Mr Adams he was not come with any design to give him or Mrs Adams any trouble; but to desire the favour of all their company to the George (an alehouse in the parish), where he had bespoke a piece of bacon and greens for their dinner. Mrs Adams, who was a very good sort of woman, only rather too strict in economics, readily accepted this invitation, as did the parson himself by her example ; and away they all walked together, not omitting little Dick, to whom Joseph gave a shilling when he heard of his intended liberality to Fanny. CHAPTER XII. WHERE THE GOOD-NATURED READER WILL SEE SOMETHING WHICH WILL GIVE HIM NO GREAT PLEASURE. THE pedlar had been very inquisitive from the time he had first heard that the great house in this parish be- longed to the Lady Booby, and had learnt that she was the widow of Sir Thomas, and that Sir Thomas had bought Fanny, at about the age of three or four years, of a travelling woman ; and, now their homely but hearty meal was ended, he told Fanny he believed he could acquaint her with her pa- rents. The whole company, especially she herself, started at this offer of the pedlar's. He then proceeded thus, while they all lent their strictest attention: — "Though I am now con- tented with this humble way of getting my livelihood, I was formerly a gentleman ; for so all those of my profession are called. In a word, I was a drummer in an Irish regiment of foot. Whilst I was in this honourable station I attended an officer of our regiment into England a recruiting. In our march from Bristol to Froome (for since the decay of the woollen trade the clothing towns have furnished the army with a great number of recruits) we overtook on the road a 299 THE ADVENTURES OF woman, who seemed to be about thirty years old or there- abouts, not very handsome, but well enough for a soldier. As we came up to her, she mended her pace, and, falling into discourse with our ladies (for every man of the party, namely, a serjeant, two private men, and a drum, were pro- vided with their woman except myself), she continued to travel on with us. I, perceiving she must fall to my lot, advanced presently to her, made love to her in our military way, and quickly succeeded to my wishes. We struck a bar- gain within a mile, and lived together as man and wife to her dying day." "I suppose," says Adams, interrupting him, "you were married with a licence; for I don't see how you could contrive to have the banns published while you were marching from place to place." "No, sir," said the pedlar, "we took a licence to go to bed together without any banns." " Aye ! aye ! " said the parson ; " ex necessitate, a licence may be allowable enough ; but surely, surely, the other is the more regular and eligible way." The pedlar proceeded thus : " she returned with me to our regiment, and removed with us from quarters to quarters, till at last, whilst we lay at Gallo- way, she fell ill of a fever and died. When she was on her death-bed she called me to her, and, crying bitterly, declared she could not depart this world without discovering a secret to me, which, she said, was the only sin which sat heavy on her heart. She said she had formerly travelled in a company of gipsies, who had made a practice of stealing away chil- dren ; that for her own part, she had been only once guilty of the crime ; which, she said, she lamented more than all the rest of her sins, since probably it might have occasioned the death of the parents; for, added she, it is almost im- possible to describe the beauty of the young creature, which was about a year and a half old when I kidnapped it. We kept her (for she was a girl) above two years in our company, when I sold her myself, for three guineas, to Sir Thomas Booby, in Somersetshire. Now, you know whether there are any more of that name in this county." " Yes," says Adams, "there are several Boobys who are squires, but I be- lieve no baronet now alive; besides, it answers so exactly in every point, there is no room for doubt ; but you have forgot 300 JOSEPH ANDREWS to tell us the parents from whom the child was stolen." "The name," answered the pedlar, "was Andrews. They lived about thirty miles from the squire ; and she told me that I might be sure to find them out by one circumstance ; for that they had a daughter of a very strange name, Pamela, or Pamala; some pronounced it one way, and some the other." Fanny, who had changed colour at the first mention of the name, now fainted away ; Joseph turned pale, and poor Dicky began to roar; the parson fell on his knees, and ejaculated many thanksgivings that this discovery had been made before the dreadful sin of incest was committed ; and the pedlar was struck with amazement, not being able to ac- count for all this confusion ; the cause of which was presently opened by the parson's daughter, who was the only uncon- cerned person (for the mother was chafing Fanny's temples, and taking the utmost care of her) : and, indeed, Fanny was the only creature whom the daughter would not have pitied in her situation ; wherein, though we compassionate her our- selves, we shall leave her for a little while, and pay a short visit to Lady Booby. CHAPTER XIII. THE HISTORY, RETURNING TO THE LADY BOOBY, GIVES SOME ACCOUNT OF THE TERRIBLE CONFLICT IN HER BREAST BE- TWEEN LOVE AND PRIDE; WITH WHAT HAPPENED ON THE PRESENT DISCOVERY. THE lady sat down with her company to dinner, but ate nothing. As soon as her cloth was removed she whis- pered Pamela that she was taken a little ill, and desired her to entertain her husband and beau Didapper. She then went up into her chamber, sent for Slipslop, threw herself on the bed in the agonies of love, rage, and despair; nor could she con- ceal these boiling passions longer without bursting. Slip- slop now approached her bed, and asked how her ladyship did; but, instead of revealing her disorder, as she intended, she entered into a long encomium on the beauty and 301 THE ADVENTURES OF virtues of Joseph Andrews ; ending, at last, with express- ing her concern that so much tenderness should be thrown away on so despicable an object as Fanny. Slipslop, well knowing how to humour her mistress's frensy, pro- ceeded to repeat, with exaggeration, if possible, all her mis- tress had said, and concluded with a wish that Joseph had been a gentleman, and that she could see her lady in the arms of such a husband. The lady then started from the bed, and, taking a turn or two across the room, cried out, with a deep sigh, "Sure he would make any woman happy !" "Your lady- ship," says she, " would be the happiest woman in the world with him. A fig for custom and nonsense! What 'vails what people say? Shall I be afraid of eating sweetmeats be- cause people may say I have a sweet tooth ? If I had a mind to marry a man, all the world should not hinder me. Your ladyship hath no parents to tutelar your infections ; besides, he is of your ladyship's family now, and as good a gentleman as any in the country; and why should not a woman follow her mind as well as man? Why should not your ladyship marry the brother as well as your nephew the sister. I am sure, if it was a fragrant crime, I would not persuade your lady- ship to it." — "But, dear Slipslop," answered the lady, "if I could prevail on myself to commit such a weakness, there is that cursed Fanny in the way, whom the idiot — O how I hate and despise him !" — "She ! a little ugly minx," cries Slipslop ; "leave her to me. I suppose your ladyship hath heard of Jo- seph's fitting with one of Mr Didapper's servants about her; and his master hath ordered them to carry her away by force this evening. I'll take care they shall not want assistance. I was talking with this gentleman, who was below, just when your ladyship sent for me." — "Go back," says the Lady Booby, "this instant, for I expect Mr Didapper will soon be going. Do all you can; for I am resolved this wench shall not be in our family : I will endeavour to return to the company ; but let me know as soon as she is carried off." Slipslop went away; and her mistress began to arraign her own conduct in the following manner : "What am I doing? How do I suffer this passion to creep imperceptibly upon me! How many days are past 302 JOSEPH ANDREWS since I could have submitted to ask myself the question? — Marry a footman ! Distraction ! Can I afterwards bear the eyes of my acquaintance? But I can retire from them; re- tire with one in whom I propose more happiness than the world without him can give me ! Retire — to feed continu- ally on beauties which my inflamed imagination sickens with eagerly gazing on ; to satisfy every appetite, every desire, with their utmost wish. Ha ! and do I doat thus on a foot- man? I despise, I detest my passion. — Yet why? Is he not generous, gentle, kind ? — Kind ! to whom ? to the meanest wretch, a creature below my consideration. Doth he not — yes, he doth prefer her. Curse his beauties, and the little low heart that possesses them ; which can basely descend to this despicable wench, and be ungratefully deaf to all the honours I do him. And can I then love this monster? No, I will tear his image from my bosom, tread on him, spurn him. I will have those pitiful charms, which now I despise, mangled in my sight ; for I will not suffer the little jade I hate to riot in the beauties I contemn. No ; though I despise him myself, though I would spurn him from my feet, was he to languish at them, no other should taste the happiness I scorn. Why do I say happiness ? To me it would be misery. To sacrifice my reputation, my character, my rank in life, to the indul- gence of a mean and vile appetite ! How I detest the thought ! How much more exquisite is the pleasure resulting from the reflection of virtue and prudence than the faint relish of what flows from vice and folly ! Whither did I suffer this improper, this mad passion to hurry me, only by neglecting to summon the aids of reason to my assistance ? Reason, which hath now set before me my desires in their proper colours, and imme- diately helped me to expel them. Yes, I thank Heaven and my pride, I have now perfectly conquered this unworthy pas- sion ; and if there was no obstacle in its way, my pride would disdain any pleasures which could be the consequence of so base, so mean, so vulgar — " Slipslop returned at this instant in a violent hurry, and with the utmost eagerness, cried out, "O madam ! I have strange news. Tom the footman is just come from the George; where, it seems, Joseph and the rest of them are a jinketting; and he says there is a strange 3°3 THE ADVENTURES OF man who hath discovered that Fanny and Joseph are brother and sister." — "How, Slipslop !" cries the lady, in a surprise. — "I had not time, madam," cries Slipslop, "to inquire about particles, but Tom says it is most certainly true." This unexpected account entirely obliterated all those ad- mirable reflections which the supreme power of reason had so wisely made just before. In short, when despair, which had more share in producing the resolutions of hatred we have seen taken, began to retreat, the lady hesitated a moment, and then, forgetting all the purport of her soliloquy, dis- missed her woman again, with orders to bid Tom attend her in the parlour, whither she now hastened to acquaint Pamela with the news. Pamela said she could not believe it ; for she had never heard that her mother had lost any child, or that she had ever had any more than Joseph and herself. The lady flew into a violent rage with her, and talked of up- starts and disowning relations who had so lately been on a level with her. Pamela made no answer; but her husband, taking up her cause, severely reprimanded his aunt for her behaviour to his wife : he told her, if it had been earlier in the evening she should not have staid a moment longer in her house ; that he was convinced, if this young woman could be proved her sister, she would readily embrace her as such, and he himself would do the same. He then desired the fel- low might be sent for, and the young woman with him, which Lady Booby immediately ordered; and, thinking proper to make some apology to Pamela for what she had said, it was readily accepted, and all things reconciled. The pedlar now attended, as did Fanny and Joseph, who would not quit her; the parson likewise was induced, not only by curiosity, of which he had no small portion, but by his duty, as he apprehended it, to follow them ; for he con- tinued all the way to exhort them, who were now breaking their hearts, to offer up thanksgivings, and be joyful for so miraculous an escape. When they arrived at Booby-Hall they were presently called into the parlour, where the pedlar repeated the same story he had told before, and insisted on the truth of every circumstance ; so that all who heard him were extremely well 3°4 JOSEPH ANDREWS satisfied of the truth, except Pamela, who imagined, as she had never heard either of her parents mention such an acci- dent, that it must be certainly false; and except the Lady- Booby, who suspected the falsehood of the story from her ardent desire that it should be true ; and Joseph, who feared its truth, from his earnest wishes that it might prove false. Mr Booby now desired them all to suspend their curiosity and absolute belief or disbelief till the next morning, when he expected old Mr Andrews and his wife to fetch himself and Pamela home in his coach, and then they might be cer- tain of perfectly knowing the truth or falsehood of this re- lation ; in which, he said, as there were many strong circum- stances to induce their credit, so he could not perceive any interest the pedlar could have in inventing it, or in endeav- ouring to impose such a falsehood on them. The Lady Booby, who was very little used to such com- pany, entertained them all — viz. her nephew, his wife, her brother and sister, the beau, and the parson, with great good humour at her own table. As to the pedlar, she ordered him to be made as welcome as possible by her servants. All the company in the parlour, except the disappointed lovers, who sat sullen and silent, were full of mirth; for Mr Booby had prevailed on Joseph to ask Mr Didapper's pardon, with which he was perfectly satisfied. Many jokes passed between the beau and the parson, chiefly on each other's dress ; these af- forded much diversion to the company. Pamela chid her brother Joseph for the concern which he exprest at discov- ering a new sister. She said, if he loved Fanny, as he ought, with a pure affection, he had no reason to lament being re- lated to her. — Upon which Adams began to discourse on Pla- tonic love ; whence he made a quick transition to the joys in the next world, and concluded with strongly asserting that there was no such thing as pleasure in this. At which Pamela and her husband smiled on one another. This happy pair proposing to retire (for no other person gave the least symptom of desiring rest), they all repaired to several beds provided for them in the same house; nor was Adams himself suffered to go home, it being a stormy night. Fanny indeed often begged she might go home with the 20 305 THE ADVENTURES OF parson ; but her stay was so strongly insisted on, that she at last, by Joseph's advice, consented. CHAPTER XIV. CONTAINING SEVERAL CURIOUS NIGHT-ADVENTURES, IN WHICH MR ADAMS FELL INTO MANY HAIR-BREADTH 'SCAPES, PARTLY OWING TO HIS GOODNESS, AND PARTLY TO HIS INADVERTENCY. ABOUT an hour after they had all separated (it being' now JLjL past three in the morning), beau Didapper, whose pas- sion for Fanny permitted him not to close his eyes, but had employed his imagination in contrivances how to satisfy his desires, at last hit on a method by which he hoped to effect it. He had ordered his servant to bring him word where Fanny lay, and had received his information ; he therefore arose, put on his breeches and nightgown, and stole softly along the gallery which led to her apartment ; and, being come to the door, as he imagined it, he opened it with the least noise possible and entered the chamber. A savour now invaded his nostrils which he did not expect in the room of so sweet a young creature, and which might have probably had no good effect on a cooler lover. However, he groped out the bed with difficulty, for there was not a glimpse of light, and, opening the curtains, he whispered in Joseph's voice (for he was an excel- lent mimic), "Fanny, my angel! I am come to inform thee that I have discovered the falsehood of the story we last night heard. I am no longer thy brother, but the lover ; nor will I be delayed the enjoyment of thee one moment longer. You have sufficient assurances of my constancy not to doubt my marrying you, and it would be want of love to deny me the possession of thy charms." — So saying, he disencumbered himself from the little clothes he had on, and, leaping into bed, embraced his angel, as he conceived her, with great rap- ture. If he was surprized at receiving no answer, he was no less pleased to find his hug returned with equal ardour. He remained not long in this sweet confusion ; for both he and his paramour presently discovered their error. Indeed 306 JOSEPH ANDREWS it was no other than the accomplished Slipslop whom he had engaged ; but, though she immediately knew the person whom she had mistaken for Joseph, he was at a loss to guess at the representative of Fanny. He had so little seen or taken no- tice of this gentlewoman, that light itself would have afforded him no assistance in his conjecture. Beau Didapper no sooner had perceived his mistake than he attempted to escape from the bed with much greater haste than he had made to it ; but the watchful Slipslop prevented him. For that prudent woman, being disappointed of those delicious offerings which her fancy had promised her pleasure, resolved to make an immediate sacrifice to her virtue. Indeed she wanted an op- portunity to heal some wounds, which her late conduct had, she feared, given her reputation ; and, as she had a wonderful presence of mind, she conceived the person of the unfortunate beau to be luckily thrown in her way to restore her lady's opinion of her impregnable chastity. At that instant, there- fore, when he offered to leap from the bed, she caught fast hold of his shirt, at the same time roaring out, " O thou villain ! who hast attacked my chastity, and, I believe, ruined me in my sleep ; I will swear a rape against thee, I will prosecute thee with the utmost vengeance." The beau at- tempted to get loose, but she held him fast, and when he struggled she cried out " Murder ! murder ! rape ! robbery ! ruin ! " At which words, parson Adams, who lay in the next chamber, wakeful, and meditating on the pedlar's discovery, jumped out of bed, and, without staying to put a rag of clothes on, hastened into the apartment whence the cries proceeded. He made directly to the bed in the dark, where, laying hold of the beau's skin (for Slipslop had torn his shirt almost off), and finding his skin extremely soft, and hearing him in a low voice begging Slipslop to let him go, he no longer doubted but this was the young woman in danger of ravish- ing, and immediately falling on the bed, and laying hold on Slipslop's chin, where he found a rough beard, his belief was confirmed ; he therefore rescued the beau, who presently made his escape, and then, turning towards Slipslop, received such a cuff on his chops, that, his wrath kindling instantly, he offered to return the favour so stoutly, that had poor Slipslop received the fist, which in the dark passed by her and fell on 3°7 THE ADVENTURES OF the pillow, she would most probably have given up the ghost. Adams, missing his blow, fell directly on Slipslop, who cuffed and scratched as well as she could; nor was he behindhand with her in his endeavours, but happily the darkness of the night befriended her. She then cried she was a woman; but Adams answered, she was rather the devil, and if she was he would grapple with him ; and, being again irritated by another stroke on the chops, he gave her such a remembrance in the guts, that she began to roar loud enough to be heard all over the house. Adams then, seizing her by the hair (for her double-clout had fallen off in the scuffle), pinned her head down to the bolster, and then both called for lights together. The Lady Booby, who was as wakeful as any of her guests, had been alarmed from the beginning; and, being a woman of a bold spirit, she slipt on a nightgown, petticoat, and slip- pers, and taking a candle, which always burnt in her chamber, in her hand, she walked undauntedly to Slipslop's room; where she entered just at the instant as Adams had discovered, by the two mountains which Slipslop carried before her, that he was concerned with a female. He then concluded her to be a witch, and said he fancied those breasts gave suck to a legion of devils. Slipslop, seeing Lady Booby enter the room, cried help ! or I am ravished, with a most audible voice : and Adams, perceiving the light, turned hastily, and saw the lady (as she did him) just as she came to the feet of the bed; nor did her modesty, when she found the naked condition of Adams, suffer her to approach farther. She then began to revile the parson as the wickedest of all men, and particularly railed at his impudence in choosing her house for the scene of his debaucheries, and her own woman for the object of his bestiality. Poor Adams had before discovered the counte- nance of his bedfellow, and, now first recollecting he was naked, he was no less confounded than Lady Booby herself, and immediately whipt under the bed-clothes, whence the chaste Slipslop endeavoured in vain to shut him out. Then putting forth his head, on which, by way of ornament, he wore a flannel nightcap, he protested his innocence, and asked ten thousand pardons of Mrs Slipslop for the blows he had struck her, vowing he had mistaken her for a witch. Lady Booby, then casting her eyes on the ground, observed some- 308 JOSEPH ANDREWS thing sparkle with great lustre, which, when she had taken it up, appeared to be a very fine pair of diamond buttons for the sleeves. A little farther she saw lie the sleeve itself of a shirt with lace ruffles. " Heyday ! " says she, " what is the meaning of this ? " " O, madam," says Slipslop, " I don't know what hath happened, I have been so terrified. Here may have been a dozen men in the room." " To whom be- longs this laced shirt and jewels?" says the lady. "Un- doubtedly," cries the parson, " to the young gentleman whom I mistook for a woman on coming into the room, whence proceeded all the subsequent mistakes ; for if I had suspected him for a man, I would have seized him, had he been an- other Hercules, though, indeed, he seems rather to resemble Hylas." He then gave an account of the reason of his rising from bed, and the rest, till the lady came into the room ; at which, and the figures of Slipslop and her gallant, whose heads only were visible at the opposite corners of the bed, she could not refrain from laughter; nor did Slipslop persist in accusing the parson of any motions towards a rape. The lady therefore desired him to return to his bed as soon as she was departed, and then ordering Slipslop to rise and attend her in her own room, she returned herself thither. When she was gone, Adams renewed his petitions for pardon to Mrs Slipslop, who, with a most Christian temper, not only forgave, but began to move with much courtesy towards him, which he taking as a hint to be gone, immediately quitted the bed, and made the best of his way towards his own ; but unluckily, instead of turning to the right, he turned to the left, and went to the apartment where Fanny lay, who (as the reader may remember) had not slept a wink the preceding night, and who was so hagged out with what had happened to her in the day, that, notwithstanding all thoughts of her Joseph, she was fallen into so profound a sleep, that all the noise in the adjoining room had not been able to disturb her. Adams groped out the bed, and, turning the clothes down softly, a custom Mrs Adams had long accustomed him to, crept in, and deposited his carcase on the bed-post, a place which that good woman had always assigned him. As the cat or lap-dog of some lovely nymph, for whom ten thousand lovers languish, lies quietly by the side of the charm- 3°9 THE ADVENTURES OF ing maid, and, ignorant of the scene of delight on which they repose, meditates the future capture of a mouse, or surprizal of a plate of bread and butter : so Adams lay by the side of Fanny, ignorant of the paradise to which he was so near ; nor could the emanation of sweets which flowed from her breath overpower the fumes of tobacco which played in the parson's nostrils. And now sleep had not overtaken the good man, when Joseph, who had secretly appointed Fanny to come to her at the break of day, rapped softly at the chamber-door, which when he had repeated twice, Adams cried, " Come in, whoever you are." Joseph thought he had mistaken the door, though she had given him the most exact directions ; however, knowing his friend's voice, he opened it, and saw some female vestments lying on a chair. Fanny waking at the same instant, and stretching out her hand on Adams's beard, she cried out, — " O heavens ! where am I ? " " Bless me ! where am I ? " said the parson. Then Fanny screamed, Adams leapt out of bed, and Joseph stood, as the tragedians call it, like the statue of Surprize. " How came she into my room ? " cried Adams. " How came you into hers ? " cried Joseph, in an astonish- ment. ' I know nothing of the matter," answered Adams, " but that she is a vestal for me. As I am a Christian, I know not whether she is a man or woman. He is an infidel who doth not believe in witchcraft. They as surely exist now as in the days of Saul. My clothes are bewitched away too, and Fanny's brought into their place." For he still insisted he was in his own apartment; but Fanny denied it vehemently, and said his attempting to persuade Joseph of such a false- hood convinced her of his wicked designs. " How ! " said Joseph in a rage, " hath he offered any rudeness to you ? " She answered — she could not accuse him of any more than villanously stealing to bed to her, which she thought rudeness sufficient, and what no man would do without a wicked in- tention. Joseph's great opinion of Adams was not easily to be stag- gered, and when he heard from Fanny that no harm had happened he grew a little cooler; yet still he was confounded, and, as he knew the house, and that the women's apartments were on this side Mrs Slipslop's room, and the men's on the other, he was convinced that he was in Fanny's chamber. 310 JOSEPH ANDREWS Assuring Adams therefore of this truth, he begged him to give some account how he came there. Adams then, standing in his shirt, which did not offend Fanny, as the curtains of the bed were drawn, related all that had happened; and when he had ended Joseph told him, — it was plain he had mistaken by turning to the right instead of the left. " Odso ! " cries Adams, " that's true : as sure as sixpence, you have hit on the very thing." He then traversed the room, rubbing his hands, and begged Fanny's pardon, assuring her he did not know whether she was man or woman. That innocent creature, firmly believing all he said, told him she was no longer angry, and begged Joseph to conduct him into his own apartment, where he should stay himself till she had put her clothes on. Joseph and Adams accordingly departed, and the latter soon was convinced of the mistake he had committed; however, whilst he was dressing himself, he often asserted he believed in the power of witchcraft not- withstanding, and did not see how a Christian could deny it. CHAPTER XV. THE ARRIVAL OF GAFFAR AND GAMMAR ANDREWS, WITH ANOTHER PERSON NOT MUCH EXPECTED; AND A PERFECT SOLUTION OF THE DIFFICULTIES RAISED BY THE PEDLAR. AS soon as Fanny was drest Joseph returned to her, and -/~\. they had a long conversation together, the conclusion of which was, that, if they found themselves to be really brother and sister, they vowed a perpetual celibacy, and to live to- gether all their days, and indulge a Platonic friendship for each other. The company were all very merry at breakfast, and Joseph and Fanny rather more cheerful than the preceding night. The Lady Booby produced the diamond button, which the beau most readily owned, and alleged that he was very subject to walk in his sleep. Indeed, he was far from being ashamed of his amour, and rather endeavoured to insinuate that more 3" THE ADVENTURES OF than was really true had passed between him and the fair Slipslop. Their tea was scarce over when news came of the arrival of old Mr Andrews and his wife. They were immediately introduced, and kindly received by the Lady Booby, whose heart went now pit-a-pat, as did those of Joseph and Fanny. They felt, perhaps, little less anxiety in this interval than (Edipus himself, whilst his fate was revealing. Mr Booby first opened the cause by informing the old gen- tleman that he had a child in the company more than he knew of, and, taking Fanny by the hand, told him, this was that daughter of his who had been stolen away by gipsies in her infancy. Mr Andrews, after expressing some astonishment, assured his honour that he had never lost a daughter by gip- sies, nor ever had any other children than Joseph and Pamela. These words were a cordial to the two lovers ; but had a dif- ferent effect on Lady Booby. She ordered the pedlar to be called, who recounted his story as he had done before. — At the end of which, old Mrs Andrews, running to Fanny, em- braced her, crying out, " She is, she is my child ! " The company were all amazed at this disagreement between the man and his wife ; and the blood had now forsaken the cheeks of the lovers, when the old woman, turning to her husband, who was more surprized than all the rest, and having a little recovered her own spirits, delivered herself as follows : "You may remember, my dear, when you went a Serjeant to Gib- raltar, you left me big with child ; you stayed abroad, you know, upwards of three years. In your absence I was brought to bed, I verily believe, of this daughter, whom I am sure I have reason to remember, for I suckled her at this very breast till the day she was stolen from me. One after- noon, when the child was about a year, or a year and a half old, or thereabouts, two gipsy-women came to the door and offered to tell my fortune. One of them had a child in her lap. I showed them my hand, and desired to know if you was ever to come home again, which I remember as well as if it was but yesterday : they faithfully promised me you should. — I left the girl in the cradle, and went to draw them a cup of liquor, the best I had : when I returned with the pot 312 JOSEPH ANDREWS (I am sure I was not absent longer than whilst I am telling it to you) the women were gone. I was afraid they had stolen something, and looked and looked, but to no purpose, and, Heaven knows, I had very little for them to steal. At last, hearing the child cry in the cradle, I went to take it up — but, the living ! how was I surprized to find, instead of my own girl that I had put into the cradle, who was as fine a fat thriving child as you shall see in a summer's day, a poor sickly boy, that did not seem to have an hour to live. I ran out, pulling my hair off, and crying like any mad after the women, but never could hear a word of them from that day to this. When I came back the poor infant (which is our Jo- seph there, as stout as he now stands) lifted up his eyes upon me so piteously, that, to be sure, notwithstanding my passion, 1 could not find in my heart to do it any mischief. A neigh- bour of mine, happening to come in at the same time, and hearing the case, advised me to take care of this poor child, and God would perhaps one day restore me my own. Upon which I took the child up, and suckled it to be sure, all the world as if it had been born of my own natural body ; and as true as I am alive, in a little time I loved the boy all to nothing as if it had been my own girl. — Well, as I was saying, times growing very hard, I having two children and nothing but my own work, which was little enough God knows, to main- tain them, was obliged to ask relief of the parish ; but, in- stead of giving it me, they removed me, by justices' warrants, fifteen miles, to the place where I now live, where I had not been long settled before you came home. Joseph (for that was the name I gave him myself — the Lord knows whether he was baptised or no, or by what name), Joseph, I say, seemed to me about five years old when you returned ; for I believe he is two or three years older than our daughter here (for I am thoroughly convinced she is the same) ; and when you saw him you said he was a chopping boy, without ever minding his age ; and so I, seeing you did not suspect any- thing of the matter, thought I might e'en as well keep it to myself, for fear you should not love him as well as I did. And all this is veritably true, and I will take my oath of it before any justice in the kingdom." 3*3 THE ADVENTURES OF The pedlar, who had been summoned by the order of Lady Booby, listened with the utmost attention to Gammar An- drews's story ; and, when she had finished, asked her if the supposititious child had no mark on its breast? To which she answered, yes, he had as fine a strawberry as ever grew in a garden. This Joseph acknowledged, and, unbuttoning his coat, at the intercession of the company, showed to them. ' Well," says Gaffar Andrews, who was a comical sly old fellow, and very likely desired to have no more children than he could keep, " you have proved, I think, very plainly, that this boy doth not belong to us ; but how are you certain that the girl is ours?" The parson then brought the pedlar for- ward, and desired him to repeat the story which he had com- municated to him the preceding day at the ale-house ; which he complied with, and related what the reader, as well as Mr Adams, hath seen before. He then confirmed, from his wife's report, all the circumstances of the exchange, and of the strawberry on Joseph's breast. At the repetition of the word strawberry, Adams, who had seen it without any emo- tion, started and cried, " Bless me ! something comes into my head." But before he had time to bring anything out a ser- vant called him forth. When he was gone the pedlar assured Joseph that his parents were persons of much greater circum- stances than those he had hitherto mistaken for such ; for that he had been stolen from a gentleman's house by those whom they call gipsies, and had been kept by them during a whole year, when, looking on him as in a dying condition, they had exchanged him for the other healthier child, in the manner before related. He said, as to the name of his father, his wife had either never known or forgot it ; but that she had ac- quainted him he lived about forty miles from the place where the exchange had been made, and which way, promising to spare no pains in endeavouring with him to discover the place. But Fortune, which seldom doth good or ill, or makes men happy or miserable, by halves, resolved to spare him this labour. The reader may please to recollect that Mr Wil- son had intended a journey to the west, in which he was to pass through Mr Adams's parish, and had promised to call on him. He was now arrived at the Lady Booby's gates for 3 X 4 JOSEPH ANDREWS that purpose, being directed thither from the parson's house, and had sent in the servant whom we have above seen call Mr Adams forth. This had no sooner mentioned the dis- covery of a stolen child, and had uttered the word strawberry, than Mr Wilson, with wildness in his looks, and the utmost eagerness in his words, begged to be shown into the room, where he entered without the least regard to any of the com- pany but Joseph, and, embracing him with a complexion all pale and trembling, desired to see the mark on his breast ; the parson followed him capering, rubbing his hands, and crying out, Hie est quern quceris; inventus est, &c. Joseph complied with the request of Mr Wilson, who no sooner saw the mark than, abandoning himself to the most extravagant rapture of passion, he embraced Joseph with inexpressible ecstasy, and cried out in tears of joy, " I have discovered my son, I have him again in my arms ! " Joseph was not suffi- ciently apprized yet to taste the same delight with his father (for so in reality he was) ; however, he returned some warmth to his embraces : but he no sooner perceived, from his father's account, the agreement of every circumstance, of person, time, and place, than he threw himself at his feet, and, embracing his knees, with tears begged his blessing, which was given with much affection, and received with such respect, mixed with such tenderness on both sides, that it affected all present ; but none so much as Lady Booby, who left the room in an agony, which was but too much perceived, and not very chari- tably accounted for by some of the company. CHAPTER XVI. BEING THE LAST, IN WHICH THIS TRUE HISTORY IS BROUGHT TO A HAPPY CONCLUSION. FANNY was very little behind her Joseph in the duty she exprest towards her parents, and the joy she evidenced in discovering them. Gammar Andrews kissed her, and said, she was heartily glad to see her; but for her part, she could 3 T 5 THE ADVENTURES OF never love any one better than Joseph. Gaffar Andrews tes- tified no remarkable emotion : he blessed and kissed her, but complained bitterly that he wanted his pipe, not having had a whiff that morning. Mr Booby, who knew nothing of his aunt's fondness, im- puted her abrupt departure to her pride, and disdain of the family into which he was married ; he was therefore desirous to be gone with the utmost celerity; and now, having con- gratulated Mr Wilson and Joseph on the discovery, he sa- luted Fanny, called her sister, and introduced her as such to Pamela, who behaved with great decency on the occasion. He now sent a message to his aunt, who returned that she wished him a good journey, but was too disordered to see any company : he therefore prepared to set out, having invited Mr Wilson to his house ; and Pamela and Joseph both so insisted on his complying, that he at last consented, having first obtained a messenger from Mr Booby to acquaint his wife with the news ; which, as he knew it would render her completely happy, he could not prevail on himself to delay a moment in acquainting her with. The company were ranged in this manner : the two old people, with their two daughters, rode in the coach ; the squire, Mr Wilson, Joseph, parson Adams, and the pedlar, proceeded on horseback. In their way, Joseph informed his father of his intended match with Fanny; to which, though he expressed some re- luctance at first, on the eagerness of his son's instances he consented ; saying, if she was so good a creature as she ap- peared, and he described her, he thought the disadvantages of birth and fortune might be compensated. He however insisted on the match being deferred till he had seen his mother ; in which Joseph perceiving him positive, with great duty obeyed him, to the great delight of parson Adams, who by these means saw an opportunity of fulfilling the church forms, and marrying his parishioners without a li- cence. Mr Adams, greatly exulting on this occasion (for such ceremonies were matters of no small moment with him), ac- cidentally gave spurs to his horse, which the generous beast disdaining, — for he was of high mettle, and had been used 316 JOSEPH ANDREWS to more expert riders than the gentleman who at present be- strode him, for whose horsemanship he had perhaps some contempt, — immediately ran away full speed, and played so many antic tricks that he tumbled the parson from his back; which Joseph perceiving, came to his relief. This accident afforded infinite merriment to the servants, and no less frighted poor Fanny, who beheld him as he passed by the coach ; but the mirth of the one and terror of the other were soon determined, when the parson declared he had received no damage. The horse having freed himself from his unworthy rider, as he probably thought him, proceeded to make the best of his way ; but was stopped by a gentleman and his servants, who were travelling the opposite way, and were now at a little distance from the coach. They soon met; and as one of the servants delivered Adams his horse, his master hailed him, and Adams, looking up, presently recollected he was the justice of the peace before whom he and Fanny had made their appearance. The parson presently saluted him very kindly; and the justice informed him that he had found the fellow who attempted to swear against him and the young woman the very next day, and had committed him to Salis- bury gaol, where he was charged with many robberies. Many compliments having passed between the parson and the justice, the latter proceeded on his journey; and the former, having with some disdain refused Joseph's offer of changing horses, and declared he was as able a horseman as any in the kingdom, remounted his beast ; and now the com- pany again proceeded, and happily arrived at their journey's end, Mr Adams, by good luck, rather than by good riding, escaping a good fall. The company, arriving at Mr Booby's house, were all re- ceived by him in the most courteous and entertained in the most splendid manner, after the custom of the old English hospitality, which is still preserved in some very few families in the remote parts of England. They all passed that day with the utmost satisfaction ; it being perhaps impossible to find any set of people more solidly and sincerely happy. Jo- seph and Fanny found means to be alone upwards of two hours, which were the shortest but the sweetest imaginable. 3i7 THE ADVENTURES OF In the morning Mr Wilson proposed to his son to make a visit with him to his mother; which, notwithstanding his dutiful inclinations, and a longing desire he had to see her, a little concerned him, as he must be obliged to leave his Fanny ; but the goodness of Mr Booby relieved him ; for he proposed to send his own coach and six for Mrs Wilson, whom Pamela so very earnestly invited, that Mr Wilson at length agreed with the entreaties of Mr Booby and Joseph, and suffered the coach to go empty for his wife. On Saturday night the coach returned with Mrs Wilson, who added one more to this happy assembly. The reader may imagine much better and quicker too than I can describe the many embraces and tears of joy which succeeded her arrival. It is sufficient to say she was easily prevailed with to follow her husband's example in consenting to the match. On Sunday Mr Adams performed the service at the squire's parish church, the curate of which very kindly exchanged duty, and rode twenty miles to the Lady Booby's parish so to do; being particularly charged not to omit publishing the banns, being the third and last time. At length the happy day arrived which was to put Joseph in the possession of all his wishes. He arose, and drest himself in a neat but plain suit of Mr Booby's, which exactly fitted him ; for he refused all finery ; as did Fanny likewise, who could be prevailed on by Pamela to attire herself in no- thing richer than a white dimity nightgown. Her shift in- deed, which Pamela presented her, was of the finest kind, and had an edging of lace round the bosom. She likewise equipped her with a pair of fine white thread stockings, which were all she would accept ; for she wore one of her own short round-eared caps, and over it a little straw hat, lined with cherry-coloured silk, and tied with a cherry-coloured ribbon. In this dress she came forth from her chamber, blushing and breathing sweets ; and was by Joseph, whose eyes sparkled fire, led to church, the whole family attending, where Mr Adams performed the ceremony ; at which nothing was so remarkable as the extraordinary and unaffected modesty of Fanny, unless the true Christian piety of Adams, who publicly rebuked Mr Booby and Pamela for laughing in so sacred a 3i8 JOSEPH ANDREWS place, and so solemn an occasion. Our parson would have done no less to the highest prince on earth ; for, though he paid all submission and deference to his superiors in other matters, where the least spice of religion intervened he im- mediately lost all respect of persons. It was his maxim, that he was a servant of the Highest, and could not, without departing from his duty, give up the least article of his honour or of his cause to the greatest earthly potentate. Indeed, he always asserted that Mr Adams at church with his surplice on, and Mr Adams without that ornament in any other place, were two very different persons. When the church rites were over Joseph led his blooming bride back to Mr Booby's (for the distance was so very little they did not think proper to use a coach) ; the whole com- pany attended them likewise on foot; and now a most mag- nificent entertainment was provided, at which parson Adams demonstrated an appetite surprizing as well as surpassing every one present. Indeed the only persons who betrayed any deficiency on this occasion were those on whose account the feast was provided. They pampered their imaginations with the much more exquisite repast which the approach of night promised them ; the thoughts of which filled both their minds, though with different sensations ; the one all desire, while the other had her wishes tempered with fears. At length, after a day passed with the utmost merriment, corrected by the strictest decency, in which, however, parson Adams being well filled with ale and pudding, had given a loose to more facetiousness than was usual to him, the happy, the blest moment arrived when Fanny retired with her mother, her mother-in-law, and her sister. She was soon undrest ; for she had no jewels to deposit in their caskets, nor fine laces to fold with the nicest exactness. Undressing to her was properly discovering, not putting off, ornaments ; for, as all her charms were the gifts of nature, she could divest herself of none. How, reader, shall I give thee an adequate idea of this lovely young creature? the bloom of roses and lilies might a little illustrate her com- plexion, or their smell her sweetness ; but to comprehend her entirely, conceive youth, health, bloom, neatness, and inno- cence, in her bridal bed; conceive all these in their utmost 3 X 9 THE ADVENTURES OF JOSEPH ANDREWS perfection, and you may place the charming Fanny's picture before your eyes. Joseph no sooner heard she was in bed than he fled with the utmost eagerness to her. A minute carried him into her arms, where we shall leave this happy couple to enjoy the private rewards of their constancy; rewards so great and sweet, that I apprehend Joseph neither envied the noblest duke, nor Fanny the finest duchess, that night. The third day Mr Wilson and his wife, with their son and daughter, returned home; where they now live together in a state of bliss scarce ever equalled. Mr Booby hath, with unprecedented generosity, given Fanny a fortune of two thou- sand pounds, which Joseph hath laid out in a little estate in the same parish with his father, which he now occupies (his father having stocked it for him) ; and Fanny presides with most excellent management in his dairy; where, however, she is not at present very able to bustle much, being, as Mr Wilson informs me in his last letter, extremely big with her first child. Mr Booby hath presented Mr Adams with a living of one hundred and thirty pounds a-year. He at first refused it, resolving not to quit his parishioners, with whom he had lived so long; but, on recollecting he might keep a curate at this living, he hath been lately inducted into it. The pedlar, besides several handsome presents, both from Mr Wilson and Mr Booby, is, by the latter's interest, made an exciseman ; a trust which he discharges with such justice, that he is greatly beloved in his neighbourhood. As for the Lady Booby, she returned to London in a few days, where a young captain of dragoons, together with eter- nal parties at cards, soon obliterated the memory of Joseph. Joseph remains blest with his Fanny, whom he doats on with the utmost tenderness, which is all returned on her side. The happiness of this couple is a perpetual fountain of pleasure to their fond parents ; and, what is particularly remarkable, he declares he will, imitate them in their retire- ment, nor will be prevailed on by any booksellers, or their authors, to make his appearance in high life. 320 UINlViK.ail 1 Ut UALlfUKINIA LlliKAlU Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. >;"" [IP fcEG'D LD-UHL II i( fltfO »W^ 1984 L0 tfeuotwi^ 30m-7 AWTBISB? \H 3 1158 00513 8028 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 379 959 o ^. » .^L. TOIL' I mE v^ m » M V ]B » ^H ' S J ^l^ ^r fHF wVv vf 883? k % v. ;> JM