incline, when the naked lady, who had listened at the top of the stairs to the dialogue which preceded the engagement, descended suddenly from above, and without weighing the unfair inequality of two to one, fell upon the poor woman who was boxing with Partridge; nor did that great champion desist, but rather redoubled his fury, when he found fresh succours were arrived to his assistance. Victory must now have fallen to the side of the travellers (for the bravest troops must yield to numbers) had not Susan the chambermaid come luckily to support her mistress. This Susan was as two-handed a wench (according to the phrase) as any in the country, and would, I believe, have beat the famed Thalestris herself, or any of her subject Amazons; for her form was robust and manlike, and every way made for such encounters. As her hands and arms were formed to give blows with great mischief to an enemy, so was her face as well contrived to receive blows without any great injury to herself; her nose being already flat to her face; her lips were so large, that no swelling could be perceived in them, and moreover they were so hard that a fist could hardly make any impression on them. Lastly, her cheek-bones stood out, as if Nature had intended them for two bastions to defend her eyes in those encounters for which she seemed so well calculated, and to which she was most wonderfully well inclined. This fair creature entering the field of battle, immediately filed to that wing where her mistress maintained so unequal a fight with one of either sex. Here she presently challenged Partridge to single combat. He accepted the challenge, and a most desperate fight began between them. Now the dogs of war being let loose, began to lick their bloody lips; now victory with golden wings hung hovering in the air. Now Fortune, taking her scales from her shelf, began to weigh the fates of Tom Jones, his female companion, and Partridge, against the landlord, his wife, and maid; all which hung in exact balance before her, when a good-natured accident put suddenly an end to the bloody fray, with which half of the combatants had already sufficiently feasted. This accident was the arrival of a coach and four; upon which my landlord and landlady immediately desisted from fighting, and at their entreaty obtained the same favour of their antagonists: but Susan was not so kind to Partridge; for that Amazonian fair having overthrown and bestrid her enemy, was now cuffing him lustily with both her hands, without any regard to his request of a cessation of arms, or to those loud exclamations of murder which he roared forth. No sooner, however, had Jones quitted the landlord, than he flew to the rescue of his defeated companion, from whom he with much difficulty drew off the enraged chambermaid; but Partridge was not immediately sensible of his deliverance; for he still lay flat on the floor, guarding his face with his hands, nor did he cease roaring, till Jones had forced him to look up, and to perceive that the battle was at an end. The landlord, who had no visible hurt, and the landlady hiding her well scratched face with her handkerchief, ran both hastily to the door to attend the coach, from which a young lady and her maid now alighted. These the landlady presently ushered into that room where Mr Jones had at first deposited his fair prize, as it was the best apartment in the house. Hither they were obliged to pass through the field of battle, which they did with the utmost haste, covering their faces with their handkerchiefs, as desirous to avoid the notice of any one. Indeed their caution was quite unnecessary; for the poor unfortunate Helen, the fatal cause of all the bloodshed, was entirely taken up in endeavouring to conceal her own face, and Jones was no less occupied in rescuing Partridge from the fury of Susan; which being happily effected, the poor fellow immediately departed to the pump to wash his face, and to stop that bloody torrent which Susan had plentifully set a flowing from his nostrils. CHAP. IV. In which the arrival of a Man of War puts a final end to hostilities, and causes the conclusion of a firm and lasting peace between all parties. A SERJEANT and a file of musqueteers, with a deserter in their custody, arrived about this time. The serjeant presently enquired for the principal magistrate of the town, and was informed by my landlord, that he himself was vested in that office. He then demanded his billets, together with a mug of beer, and, complaining it was cold, spread himself before the kitchen fire. Mr Jones was at this time comforting the poor distressed lady, who sat down at a table in the kitchen, and, leaning her head upon her arm, was bemoaning her misfortunes. But lest my fair readers should be in pain concerning a particular circumstance, I think proper here to acquaint them, that before she had quitted the room above stairs, she had so well covered herself with a pillowbeer which she there found, that her regard to decency was not in the least violated by the presence of so many men as were now in the room. One of the soldiers now went up to the serjeant, and whispered something in his ear; upon which he stedfastly fixed his eyes on the lady, and having looked at her for near a minute, he came up to her, saying, "I ask pardon, madam, but I am certain I am not deceived, you can be no other person than Captain Waters's lady." The poor woman, who in her present distress had very little regarded the face of any person present, no sooner looked at the serjeant, than she presently recollected him, and calling him by his name, answered, that she was indeed the unhappy person he imagined her to be; but added, "I wonder any one should know me in this disguise." To which the serjeant replied, he was very much surprised to see her ladyship in such a dress, and was afraid some accident had happened to her. "An accident hath happened to me, indeed," says she," and I am highly obliged to this gentleman (pointing to Jones) that it was not a fatal one, or that I am now living to mention it."-" Whatever the gentle man hath done," cries the serjeant, "I am sure the captain will make him amends for it; and if I can be of any service, your ladyship may cominand me, and I shall think myself very happy to have it in my power to serve your ladyship; and so indeed may any one, for I know the captain will well reward them for it." The landlady, who heard from the stairs all that passed between the serjeant and Mrs Waters, came hastily down, and running directly up to her, began to ask pardon for the offences she had committed, begging that all might be imputed to ignorance of her quality: for, "Lud! madam," says she, "how should I have imagined that a lady of your fashion would appear in such a dress? I am sure, madam, if I had once suspected that your ladyship was your ladyship, I would sooner have burnt my tongue out, than have said what I have said: and I hope your ladyship will accept of a gown, till you can get your own clothes." "Prithee, woman," says Mrs Waters, cease your impertinence: how can you imagine I should concern myself about any thing which comes from the lips of such low creatures as yourself? But I am surprised at your assurance in thinking, after what is past, that I will condescend to put on any of your dirty things. I would have you know, creature, I have a spirit above that." Here Jones interfered, and begged Mrs Wa ters to forgive the landlady, and to accept her gown: "For I must confess," cries he," our appearance was a little suspicious when we first came in and I am well assured, all this good woman did, was, as she professed, out of regard to the reputation of her house." "Yes, upon my truly was it," says she; "the gentleman speaks very much like a gentleman, and I see very plainly is so; and to be certain the house is well known to be a house of as good reputation as any on the road, and though I say it, is frequented by gentry of the best quality, both Irish and English. I defy any body to say black is my eye, for that matter. And, as I was saying, if I had known your ladyship to be your ladyship, I would as soon have burnt my fingers as have affronted your ladyship; but truly where gentry come and spend their money, I am not willing that they should be scandalized by a set of poor shabby vermin, that wherever they go, leave more lice than money behind them; such folks never raise my compassion: for to be certain it is foolish to have any for them, and if our justices did as they ought, they would be all whipt out of the kingdom; for to be certain it is what is most fitting for them. But as for your ladyship, I am heartily sorry your ladyship hath had a misfortune, and if your ladyship will do me the honour to wear my clothes till you can get some of your ladyship's own, to be certain the best I have is at your ladyship's service." Whether cold, shame, or the persuasions of Mr Jones prevailed most on Mrs Waters, I will not determine; but she suffered herself to be pacified by this speech of my landlady, and retired with that good woman, in order to apparel herself in a decent manner. My landlord was likewise beginning his oration to Jones, but was presently interrupted by that generous youth, who shook him heartily by the hand, and assured him of entire forgiveness, saying, "If you are satisfied, my worthy friend, I promise you I am :" and indeed, in one sense, the landlord had the better reason to be satisfied; for he had received a belly-full of drubbing, whereas Jones had scarce felt a single blow. Partridge, who had been all this time washing his bloody nose at the pump, returned into the kitchen at the instant when his master and the landlord were shaking hands with each other. As he was of a peaceable disposition, he was pleased with those symptoms of reconciliation; and though his face bore some marks of Susan's fist, and many more of her nails, he rather chose to be contented with his fortune in the last battle, than to endeavour at bettering it in another. The heroic Susan was likewise well contented with her victory, though it had cost her a black eye, which Partridge had given her at the first onset. Between these two, therefore, a league was struck; and those hands which had been the instruments of war, became now the mediators of peace. Matters were thus restored to a perfect calm, at which the serjeant, though it may seem so contrary to the principles of his profession, testified his approbation. "Why now, that's friendly," said he; "d-n me, I hate to see two people bear ill-will to one another, after they have had a tussel. The only way when friends quarrel, is to see it out fairly in a friendly manner, as a man may call it, either with a fist, or sword, or pistol, according as they like, and then let it be all over : for my own part, d-n me if ever I love my He then proposed a libation, as a necessary part of the ceremony at all treaties of this kind. Perhaps the reader may here conclude that he was well versed in ancient history; but this, though highly probable, as he cited no authority to support the custom, I will not affirm with any confidence. Most likely indeed it is, that he founded his opinion on very good authority, since he confirmed it with many violent oaths. Jones no sooner heard the proposal, than immediately agreeing with the learned serjeant, he ordered a bowl, or rather a large mug, filled with the liquor used on these occasions, to be brought in, and then began the ceremony himself. He placed his right hand in that of the landlord, and, seizing the bowl with his left, uttered the usual words, and then made his libation. After which the same was observed by all present. Indeed there is very little need of being particular in describing the whole form, as it differed so little from those libations of which so much is recorded in ancient authors, and their modern transcribers. The principal difference lay in two instances; for, first, the present company poured the liquor only down their throats; and, secondly, the serjeant, who officiated as priest, drank the last; but he preserved, I believe, the ancient form, in swallowing much the largest draught of the whole company, and in being the only person present who contributed nothing towards the libation, besides his good offices in assisting at the perform ance. The good people now ranged themselves round the kitchen fire, where good humour seemed to maintain an absolute dominion, and Partridge not only forgot his shameful defeat, but converted hunger into thirst, and soon became extremely facetious. We must, however, quit this agreeable assembly for a while, and attend Mr Jones to Mrs Waters's apartment, where the dinner which he had now bespoke was on the table. Indeed it took no long time in preparing, having been all drest three days before, and required nothing more from the cook than to warm it over again. their bodies at least, (which is much the major part of most) are liable to the worst infirmities, and subject to the vilest offices of human nature. Among these latter the act of eating, which hath by several wise men been considered as extremely mean and derogatory from the philosophic dignity, must be, in some measure, performed by the greatest prince, hero, or philosopher upon earth; nay, sometimes Nature hath been so frolicsome as to exact of these dignified characters a much more exorbitant share of this office, than she hath obliged those of the lowest order to perform. To say the truth, as no known inhabitant of this globe is really more than man, so none need be ashamed of submitting to what the necessities of man demand: but when those great personages I have just mentioned condescend to aim at confining such low offices to themselves, as when, by hoarding or destroying, they seem desirous to prevent any others from eating, they then surely become very low and despicable. Now after this short preface, we think it no disparagement to our hero to mention the immoderate ardour with which he laid about him at this season. Indeed it may be doubted whether Ulysses, who, by the way, seems to have had the best stomach of all the heroes in that eating poem of the Odyssey, ever made a better meal. Three pounds, at least, of that flesh which formerly had contributed to the composition of an ox, was now honoured with becoming part of the individual Mr Jones. This particular we thought ourselves obliged to mention, as it may account for our hero's temporary neglect of his fair companion, who eat but very little, and was indeed employed in considerations of a very different nature, which passed unobserved by Jones, till he had entirely satisfied that appetite which a fast of twenty-four hours had procured him: but his dinner was no sooner ended, than his attention to other matters revived; with these matters, therefore, we shall now proceed to acquaint the reader. Mr Jones, of whose personal accomplishments we have hitherto said very little, was, in reality, one of the handsomest young fellows in the world. His face, besides being the picture of health, had in it the most apparent marks of sweetness and good-nature. These qualities were indeed so characteristical in his countenance, that while the spirit and sensibility in his eyes, though they must have been perceived by an accurate observer, might have escaped the notice of the less discerning, so strongly was this good-nature painted in his look, that it was remarked by almost every one who saw him. It was, perhaps, as much owing to this, as to a very fine complexion, that his face had a delicacy in it almost inexpressible, and which might have given him an air rather too effeminate, had it not been joined to a most masculine person and mien; which latter had as much in them of the Hercules, as the former had of the Adonis. He was, besides, active, genteel, gay, and good-humoured, and had a flow of animal spirits which enlivened every conversation where he was present. When the reader hath duly reflected on these many charms which all centered in our hero, and considers at the same time the fresh obligations which Mrs Waters had to him, it will be a mark more of prudery than candour to entertain a bad opinion of her, because she conceived a very good opinion of him. But whatever censures may be passed upon her, it is my business to relate matters of fact with veracity. Mrs Waters had, in truth, not only a good opinion of our hero, but a very great affection for him. To speak out boldly at once, she was in love, according to the present universally received sense of that phrase, by which love is applied indiscriminately to the desirable objects of all our passions, appetites, and senses, and is understood to be that preference which we give to one kind of food rather than to another. But though the love to these several objects may possibly be one and the same in all cases, its operations, however, must be allowed to be different; for how much soever we may be in love with an excellent sirloin of beef, or bottle of Burgundy, with a damask rose, or Cremona fiddle, yet do we never smile, nor ogle, nor dress, nor flatter, nor endeavour by any other arts or tricks to gain the affection of the said beef, &c. Sigh, indeed, we sometimes may, but it is generally in the absence, not in the presence, of the beloved object; for otherwise we might possibly complain of their ingratitude and deafness, with the same reason as Pasiphæ doth of her bull, whom she endeavoured to engage by all the coquetry practised with good success in the drawing-room, on the much more sensible, as well as tender hearts, of the fine gentlemen there. The contrary happens, in that love which operates between persons of the same species, but of different sexes. Here we are no sooner in love than it becomes our principal care to engage the affection of the object beloved. For what other purpose indeed are our youth instructed in all the arts of rendering themselves agreeable? If it was not with a view to this love, I question whether any of those trades which deal in setting off and adorning the human person would procure a livelihood. Nay, those great polishers of our manners, who are by some thought to teach what principally distinguishes us from the brute creation, even dancing-masters themselves, might possibly find no place in society. In short, all the graces which young ladies, and young gentlemen too, learn from others, and the many improvements which, by the help of a looking-glass, they add of their own, are, in reality, those very spicula et faces amoris, so often mentioned by Ovid, or, as they are sometimes called in our own language, The whole artillery of love. Now, Mrs Waters and our hero had no sooner sat down together, than the former began to play this artillery upon the latter. But here, as we are about to attempt a description hitherto unessayed, either in prose or verse, we think proper to invoke the assistance of certain aerial beings, who will, we doubt not, come kindly to our aid on this occasion. Say then, ye Graces, you that inhabit the heavenly mansions of Seraphina's countenance; for you are truly divine, are always in her presence, and well know all the arts of charming; say, what were the weapons now used to captivate the heart of Mr Jones? "First, from two lovely blue eyes, whose bright orbs flashed lightning at their discharge, flew forth two pointed ogles; but, happily for our hero, hit only a vast piece of beef which he was then conveying into his plate, and harmless spent their force. The fair warrior perceived their miscarriage, and immediately from her fair bosom drew forth a deadly sigh; a sigh which none could have heard unmoved, and which was sufficient at once to have swept off a dozen beaus; so soft, so sweet, so tender, that the insinuating air must have found its subtle way to the heart of our hero, had it not luckily been driven from his ears by the coarse bubbling of some bottled ale, which at that time he was pouring forth. Many other weapons did she essay; but the god of eating (if there be any such deity; for I do not confidently assert it) preserved his votary; or perhaps it may not be dignus vindice nodus, and the present security of Jones may be accounted for by natural means; for as love frequently preserves from the attacks of hunger, so may hunger possibly, in some cases, defend us against love. "The fair one, enraged at her frequent disappointments, determined on a short cessation of arms; which interval she employed in making ready every engine of amorous warfare for the renewing of the attack, when dinner should be over. "No sooner then was the cloth removed, than she again began her operations. First, having planted her right eye sideways against Mr Jones, she shot from its corner a most penetrating glance, which, though great part of its force was spent before it reached our hero, did not vent itself absolutely without effect. This the fair one perceiving, hastily withdrew her eyes, and levelled them downwards, as if she was concerned for what she had done; though by this means she designed only to draw him from his guard, and indeed to open his eyes, through which she intended to surprise his heart. And now, gently lifting up those two bright orbs which had already begun to make an impression on poor Jones, she discharged a volley of small charms at once from her whole countenance in a smile. Not a smile of mirth, nor of joy, but a smile of affection, which most ladies have always ready at their command, and which serves them to show at once their good-humour, their pretty dimples, and their white teeth. "This smile our hero received full in his eyes, and was immediately staggered with its force. He then began to see the designs of the enemy, and indeed to feel their success. A parley now was set on foot between the parties, during which the artful fair so slily and imperceptibly carried on her attack, that she had almost subdued the heart of our hero, before she again repaired to acts of hostility. To confess the truth, I am afraid Mr Jones maintained a kind of Dutch defence, and treacherously delivered up the garrison, without duly weighing his allegiance to the fair Sophia. In short, no sooner had the amorous parley ended, and the lady had unmasked the royal battery, by carelessly letting her handkerchief drop from her neck, than the heart of Mr Jones was entirely taken, and the fair conqueror enjoyed the usual fruits of her victory." Here the Graces think proper to end their description, and here we think proper to end the chapter. CHAP. VI. A friendly conversation in the kitchen, which had a very common, though not very friendly conclusion. WHILE our lovers were entertaining themselves in the manner which is partly described in the foregoing chapter, they were likewise furnishing out an entertainment for their good friends in the kitchen; and this in a double sense, by affording them matter for their conversation, and, at the same time, drink to enliven their spirits. There were now assembled round the kitchenfire, besides my landlord and landlady, who occasionally went back ward and forward, Mr Partridge, the serjeant, and the coachman who drove the young lady and her maid. Partridge having acquainted the company with what he had learnt from the Man of the Hill, concerning the situation in which Mrs Waters had been found by Jones, the serjeant proceeded to that part of her history which was known to him. He said, she was the wife of Mr Waters, who was a captain in their regiment, and had often been with him at quarters. "Some folks," says he, "used indeed to doubt whether they were lawfully married in a church or no; but, for my part, that's no business of mine. Í must own, if I was put to my corporal oath, I believe she is little better than one of us; and I fancy the captain may go to heaven when the 66 sun shines upon a rainy day. But if he does, that is neither here nor there; for he won't want company. And the lady, to give the devil his due, is a very good sort of lady, and loves the cloth, and is always desirous to do strict justice to it; for she hath begged off many a poor soldier, and, by her good-will, would never have any of them punished. But yet, to be sure, Ensign Northerton and she were very well acquainted together at our last quarters, that is the very right and truth of the matter. But the captain he knows nothing about it; and as long as there is enough for him too, what does it signify? He loves her not a bit the worse, and I am certain would run any man through the body that was to abuse her; therefore I won't abuse her for my part. I only repeat what other folks say; and to be certain, what every body says, there must be some truth in."Ay, ay, a great deal of truth, I warrant you,” cries Partridge; "veritas odium parit."—" All a parcel of scandalous stuff," answered the mistress of the house. "I am sure, now she is drest, she looks like a very good sort of lady, and she behaves herself like one; for she gave me a guinea for the use of my clothes." "A very good lady indeed," cries the landlord; " and if you had not been a little too hasty, you would not have quarrelled with her as you did at first.""You need mention that, with my truly," answered she;" if it had not been for your nonsense, nothing had happened. You must be meddling with what did not belong to you, and throw in your fool's discourse."—" Well, well,” answered he, "what's past cannot be mended, so there's an end of the matter."-"Yes," cries she, " for this once; but will it be mended ever the more hereafter? This is not the first time that I have suffered for your numscull's pate. I wish you would always hold your tongue in the house, and meddle only in matters without doors which concern you. Don't you remember what happened about seven years ago?"—"Nay, my dear," returned he, "don't rip up old stories. Come, come, all's well, and I am sorry for what I have done."-The landlady was going to reply, but was prevented by the peace-making serjeant, sorely to the displeasure of Partridge, who was a great lover of what is called fun, and a great promoter of those harmless quarrels which tend rather to the production of comical than tragical incidents. The serjeant asked Partridge, whither he and his master were travelling?" None of your magisters," answered Partridge; "I am no man's servant, I assure you; for though I have had misfortunes in the world, I write gentleman after my name; and as poor and simple as I may appear now, I have taught grammar-school in my time. Sed hei mihi! non sum quod fui.""No offence, I hope, sir," said the serjeant; "where then, if I may venture to be so bold, may you and your friend be travelling?”— |