Joseph Andrews, Vol. 1

  CHAPTER IX.

  _What passed between the lady and Mrs Slipslop; in which we prophesythere are some strokes which every one will not truly comprehend at thefirst reading._

  "Slipslop," said the lady, "I find too much reason to believe all thouhast told me of this wicked Joseph; I have determined to part with himinstantly; so go you to the steward, and bid him pay his wages."Slipslop, who had preserved hitherto a distance to her lady--rather outof necessity than inclination--and who thought the knowledge of thissecret had thrown down all distinction between them, answered hermistress very pertly--"She wished she knew her own mind; and that shewas certain she would call her back again before she was got half-waydownstairs." The lady replied, she had taken a resolution, and wasresolved to keep it. "I am sorry for it," cries Slipslop, "and, if I hadknown you would have punished the poor lad so severely, you should neverhave heard a particle of the matter. Here's a fuss indeed aboutnothing!" "Nothing!" returned my lady; "do you think I will countenancelewdness in my house?" "If you will turn away every footman," saidSlipslop, "that is a lover of the sport, you must soon open the coachdoor yourself, or get a set of mophrodites to wait upon you; and I amsure I hated the sight of them even singing in an opera." "Do as I bidyou," says my lady, "and don't shock my ears with your beastlylanguage." "Marry-come-up," cries Slipslop, "people's ears are sometimesthe nicest part about them."

  The lady, who began to admire the new style in which herwaiting-gentlewoman delivered herself, and by the conclusion of herspeech suspected somewhat of the truth, called her back, and desired toknow what she meant by the extraordinary degree of freedom in which shethought proper to indulge her tongue. "Freedom!" says Slipslop; "I don'tknow what you call freedom, madam; servants have tongues as well astheir mistresses." "Yes, and saucy ones too," answered the lady; "but Iassure you I shall bear no such impertinence." "Impertinence! I don'tknow that I am impertinent," says Slipslop. "Yes, indeed you are," criesmy lady, "and, unless you mend your manners, this house is no place foryou." "Manners!" cries Slipslop; "I never was thought to want mannersnor modesty neither; and for places, there are more places than one; andI know what I know." "What do you know, mistress?" answered the lady. "Iam not obliged to tell that to everybody," says Slipslop, "any more thanI am obliged to keep it a secret." "I desire you would provideyourself," answered the lady. "With all my heart," replied thewaiting-gentlewoman; and so departed in a passion, and slapped the doorafter her.

  The lady too plainly perceived that her waiting-gentlewoman knew morethan she would willingly have had her acquainted with; and this sheimputed to Joseph's having discovered to her what passed at the firstinterview. This, therefore, blew up her rage against him, and confirmedher in a resolution of parting with him.

  But the dismissing Mrs Slipslop was a point not so easily to be resolvedupon. She had the utmost tenderness for her reputation, as she knew onthat depended many of the most valuable blessings of life; particularlycards, making curtsies in public places, and, above all, the pleasure ofdemolishing the reputations of others, in which innocent amusement shehad an extraordinary delight. She therefore determined to submit to anyinsult from a servant, rather than run a risque of losing the title toso many great privileges.

  She therefore sent for her steward, Mr Peter Pounce, and ordered him topay Joseph his wages, to strip off his livery, and to turn him out ofthe house that evening.

  She then called Slipslop up, and, after refreshing her spirits with asmall cordial, which she kept in her corset, she began in thefollowing manner:--

  "Slipslop, why will you, who know my passionate temper, attempt toprovoke me by your answers? I am convinced you are an honest servant,and should be very unwilling to part with you. I believe, likewise, youhave found me an indulgent mistress on many occasions, and have aslittle reason on your side to desire a change. I can't help beingsurprized, therefore, that you will take the surest method to offendme--I mean, repeating my words, which you know I have always detested."

  The prudent waiting-gentlewoman had duly weighed the whole matter, andfound, on mature deliberation, that a good place in possession wasbetter than one in expectation. As she found her mistress, therefore,inclined to relent, she thought proper also to put on some smallcondescension, which was as readily accepted; and so the affair wasreconciled, all offences forgiven, and a present of a gown and petticoatmade her, as an instance of her lady's future favour.

  She offered once or twice to speak in favour of Joseph; but found herlady's heart so obdurate, that she prudently dropt all such efforts. Sheconsidered there were more footmen in the house, and some as stoutfellows, though not quite so handsome, as Joseph; besides, the readerhath already seen her tender advances had not met with the encouragementshe might have reasonable expected. She thought she had thrown away agreat deal of sack and sweetmeats on an ungrateful rascal; and, being alittle inclined to the opinion of that female sect, who hold one lustyyoung fellow to be nearly as good as another lusty young fellow, she atlast gave up Joseph and his cause, and, with a triumph over her passionhighly commendable, walked off with her present, and with greattranquillity paid a visit to a stone-bottle, which is of sovereign useto a philosophical temper.

  She left not her mistress so easy. The poor lady could not reflectwithout agony that her dear reputation was in the power of her servants.All her comfort as to Joseph was, that she hoped he did not understandher meaning; at least she could say for herself, she had not plainlyexpressed anything to him; and as to Mrs Slipslop, she imagines shecould bribe her to secrecy.

  But what hurt her most was, that in reality she had not so entirelyconquered her passion; the little god lay lurking in her heart, thoughanger and distain so hood-winked her, that she could not see him. Shewas a thousand times on the very brink of revoking the sentence she hadpassed against the poor youth. Love became his advocate, and whisperedmany things in his favour. Honour likewise endeavoured to vindicate hiscrime, and Pity to mitigate his punishment. On the other side, Pride andRevenge spoke as loudly against him. And thus the poor lady was torturedwith perplexity, opposite passions distracting and tearing her minddifferent ways.

  So have I seen, in the hall of Westminster, where Serjeant Bramble hathbeen retained on the right side, and Serjeant Puzzle on the left, thebalance of opinion (so equal were their fees) alternately incline toeither scale. Now Bramble throws in an argument, and Puzzle's scalestrikes the beam; again Bramble shares the like fate, overpowered by theweight of Puzzle. Here Bramble hits, there Puzzle strikes; here one hasyou, there t'other has you; till at last all becomes one scene ofconfusion in the tortured minds of the hearers; equal wagers are laid onthe success, and neither judge nor jury can possibly make anything ofthe matter; all things are so enveloped by the careful serjeants indoubt and obscurity.

  Or, as it happens in the conscience, where honour and honesty pull oneway, and a bribe and necessity another.--If it was our presentbusiness only to make similes, we could produce many more to thispurpose; but a simile (as well as a word) to the wise.--We shalltherefore see a little after our hero, for whom the reader is doubtlessin some pain.