History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
Chapter iii.
A dialogue between the landlady and Susan the chamber-maid, proper tobe read by all inn-keepers and their servants; with the arrival, andaffable behaviour of a beautiful young lady; which may teach personsof condition how they may acquire the love of the whole world.
The landlady, remembering that Susan had been the only person out ofbed when the door was burst open, resorted presently to her, toenquire into the first occasion of the disturbance, as well as who thestrange gentleman was, and when and how he arrived.
Susan related the whole story which the reader knows already, varyingthe truth only in some circumstances, as she saw convenient, andtotally concealing the money which she had received. But whereas hermistress had, in the preface to her enquiry, spoken much in compassionfor the fright which the lady had been in concerning any intendeddepredations on her virtue, Susan could not help endeavouring to quietthe concern which her mistress seemed to be under on that account, byswearing heartily she saw Jones leap out from her bed.
The landlady fell into a violent rage at these words. "A likely story,truly," cried she, "that a woman should cry out, and endeavour toexpose herself, if that was the case! I desire to know what betterproof any lady can give of her virtue than her crying out, which, Ibelieve, twenty people can witness for her she did? I beg, madam, youwould spread no such scandal of any of my guests; for it will not onlyreflect on them, but upon the house; and I am sure no vagabonds, norwicked beggarly people, come here."
"Well," says Susan, "then I must not believe my own eyes." "No,indeed, must you not always," answered her mistress; "I would not havebelieved my own eyes against such good gentlefolks. I have not had abetter supper ordered this half-year than they ordered last night; andso easy and good-humoured were they, that they found no fault with myWorcestershire perry, which I sold them for champagne; and to be sureit is as well tasted and as wholesome as the best champagne in thekingdom, otherwise I would scorn to give it 'em; and they drank me twobottles. No, no, I will never believe any harm of such sober good sortof people."
Susan being thus silenced, her mistress proceeded to other matters."And so you tell me," continued she, "that the strange gentleman camepost, and there is a footman without with the horses; why, then, he iscertainly some of your great gentlefolks too. Why did not you ask himwhether he'd have any supper? I think he is in the other gentleman'sroom; go up and ask whether he called. Perhaps he'll order somethingwhen he finds anybody stirring in the house to dress it. Now don'tcommit any of your usual blunders, by telling him the fire's out, andthe fowls alive. And if he should order mutton, don't blab out that wehave none. The butcher, I know, killed a sheep just before I went tobed, and he never refuses to cut it up warm when I desire it. Go,remember there's all sorts of mutton and fowls; go, open the doorwith, Gentlemen, d'ye call? and if they say nothing, ask what hishonour will be pleased to have for supper? Don't forget his honour.Go; if you don't mind all these matters better, you'll never come toanything."
Susan departed, and soon returned with an account that the twogentlemen were got both into the same bed. "Two gentlemen," says thelandlady, "in the same bed! that's impossible; they are two arrantscrubs, I warrant them; and I believe young Squire Allworthy guessedright, that the fellow intended to rob her ladyship; for, if he hadbroke open the lady's door with any of the wicked designs of agentleman, he would never have sneaked away to another room to savethe expense of a supper and a bed to himself. They are certainlythieves, and their searching after a wife is nothing but a pretence."
In these censures my landlady did Mr Fitzpatrick great injustice; forhe was really born a gentleman, though not worth a groat; and though,perhaps, he had some few blemishes in his heart as well as in hishead, yet being a sneaking or a niggardly fellow was not one of them.In reality, he was so generous a man, that, whereas he had received avery handsome fortune with his wife, he had now spent every penny ofit, except some little pittance which was settled upon her; and, inorder to possess himself of this, he had used her with such cruelty,that, together with his jealousy, which was of the bitterest kind, ithad forced the poor woman to run away from him.
This gentleman then being well tired with his long journey fromChester in one day, with which, and some good dry blows he hadreceived in the scuffle, his bones were so sore, that, added to thesoreness of his mind, it had quite deprived him of any appetite foreating. And being now so violently disappointed in the woman whom, atthe maid's instance, he had mistaken for his wife, it never onceentered into his head that she might nevertheless be in the house,though he had erred in the first person he had attacked. He thereforeyielded to the dissuasions of his friend from searching any fartherafter her that night, and accepted the kind offer of part of his bed.
The footman and post-boy were in a different disposition. They weremore ready to order than the landlady was to provide; however, afterbeing pretty well satisfied by them of the real truth of the case, andthat Mr Fitzpatrick was no thief, she was at length prevailed on toset some cold meat before them, which they were devouring with greatgreediness, when Partridge came into the kitchen. He had been firstawaked by the hurry which we have before seen; and while he wasendeavouring to compose himself again on his pillow, a screech-owl hadgiven him such a serenade at his window, that he leapt in a mosthorrible affright from his bed, and, huddling on his cloaths withgreat expedition, ran down to the protection of the company, whom heheard talking below in the kitchen.
His arrival detained my landlady from returning to her rest; for shewas just about to leave the other two guests to the care of Susan; butthe friend of young Squire Allworthy was not to be so neglected,especially as he called for a pint of wine to be mulled. Sheimmediately obeyed, by putting the same quantity of perry to the fire;for this readily answered to the name of every kind of wine.
The Irish footman was retired to bed, and the post-boy was going tofollow; but Partridge invited him to stay and partake of his wine,which the lad very thankfully accepted. The schoolmaster was indeedafraid to return to bed by himself; and as he did not know how soon hemight lose the company of my landlady, he was resolved to secure thatof the boy, in whose presence he apprehended no danger from the devilor any of his adherents.
And now arrived another post-boy at the gate; upon which Susan, beingordered out, returned, introducing two young women in riding habits,one of which was so very richly laced, that Partridge and the post-boyinstantly started from their chairs, and my landlady fell to hercourtsies, and her ladyships, with great eagerness.
The lady in the rich habit said, with a smile of great condescension,"If you will give me leave, madam, I will warm myself a few minutes atyour kitchen fire, for it is really very cold; but I must insist ondisturbing no one from his seat." This was spoken on account ofPartridge, who had retreated to the other end of the room, struck withthe utmost awe and astonishment at the splendor of the lady's dress.Indeed, she had a much better title to respect than this; for she wasone of the most beautiful creatures in the world.
The lady earnestly desired Partridge to return to his seat; but couldnot prevail. She then pulled off her gloves, and displayed to the firetwo hands, which had every property of snow in them, except that ofmelting. Her companion, who was indeed her maid, likewise pulled offher gloves, and discovered what bore an exact resemblance, in cold andcolour, to a piece of frozen beef.
"I wish, madam," quoth the latter, "your ladyship would not think ofgoing any farther to-night. I am terribly afraid your ladyship willnot be able to bear the fatigue."
"Why sure," cries the landlady, "her ladyship's honour can neverintend it. O, bless me! farther to-night, indeed! let me beseech yourladyship not to think on't----But, to be sure, your ladyship can't.What will your honour be pleased to have for supper? I have mutton ofall kinds, and some nice chicken."
"I think, madam," said the lady, "it would be rather breakfast thansupper; but I can't eat anything; and, if I stay, shall only lie downfor an hour or two. However, if you please, madam, you m
ay get me alittle sack whey, made very small and thin."
"Yes, madam," cries the mistress of the house, "I have some excellentwhite wine."--"You have no sack, then?" says the lady. "Yes, an'tplease your honour, I have; I may challenge the country for that--butlet me beg your ladyship to eat something."
"Upon my word, I can't eat a morsel," answered the lady; "and I shallbe much obliged to you if you will please to get my apartment ready assoon as possible; for I am resolved to be on horseback again in threehours."
"Why, Susan," cries the landlady, "is there a fire lit yet in theWild-goose? I am sorry, madam, all my best rooms are full. Severalpeople of the first quality are now in bed. Here's a great youngsquire, and many other great gentlefolks of quality." Susan answered,"That the Irish gentlemen were got into the Wild-goose."
"Was ever anything like it?" says the mistress; "why the devil wouldyou not keep some of the best rooms for the quality, when you knowscarce a day passes without some calling here?----If they begentlemen, I am certain, when they know it is for her ladyship, theywill get up again."
"Not upon my account," says the lady; "I will have no person disturbedfor me. If you have a room that is commonly decent, it will serve mevery well, though it be never so plain. I beg, madam, you will notgive yourself so much trouble on my account." "O, madam!" cries theother, "I have several very good rooms for that matter, but none goodenough for your honour's ladyship. However, as you are socondescending to take up with the best I have, do, Susan, get a firein the Rose this minute. Will your ladyship be pleased to go up now,or stay till the fire is lighted?" "I think I have sufficiently warmedmyself," answered the lady; "so, if you please, I will go now; I amafraid I have kept people, and particularly that gentleman (meaningPartridge), too long in the cold already. Indeed, I cannot bear tothink of keeping any person from the fire this dreadful weather."--Shethen departed with her maid, the landlady marching with two lightedcandles before her.
When that good woman returned, the conversation in the kitchen was allupon the charms of the young lady. There is indeed in perfect beauty apower which none almost can withstand; for my landlady, though she wasnot pleased at the negative given to the supper, declared she hadnever seen so lovely a creature. Partridge ran out into the mostextravagant encomiums on her face, though he could not refrain frompaying some compliments to the gold lace on her habit; the post-boysung forth the praises of her goodness, which were likewise echoed bythe other post-boy, who was now come in. "She's a true good lady, Iwarrant her," says he; "for she hath mercy upon dumb creatures; forshe asked me every now and tan upon the journey, if I did not thinkshe should hurt the horses by riding too fast? and when she came inshe charged me to give them as much corn as ever they would eat."
Such charms are there in affability, and so sure is it to attract thepraises of all kinds of people. It may indeed be compared to thecelebrated Mrs Hussey.[*] It is equally sure to set off every femaleperfection to the highest advantage, and to palliate and conceal everydefect. A short reflection, which we could not forbear making in thisplace, where my reader hath seen the loveliness of an affabledeportment; and truth will now oblige us to contrast it, by showingthe reverse.
[*] A celebrated mantua-maker in the Strand, famous for setting off the shapes of women.