History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
“why, the rebels: but why should I call them rebels? they may be very
honest gentlemen, for anything I know to the contrary. The devil take
him that affronts them, I say; I am sure, if they have nothing to say
to me, I will have nothing to say to them, but in a civil way. For
Heaven's sake, sir, don't affront them if they should come, and
perhaps they may do us no harm; but would it not be the wiser way to
creep into some of yonder bushes, till they are gone by? What can two
unarmed men do perhaps against fifty thousand? Certainly nobody but a
madman; I hope your honour is not offended; but certainly no man who
hath _mens sana in corpore sano_----” Here Jones interrupted this
torrent of eloquence, which fear had inspired, saying, “That by the
drum he perceived they were near some town.” He then made directly
towards the place whence the noise proceeded, bidding Partridge “take
courage, for that he would lead him into no danger;” and adding, “it
was impossible the rebels should be so near.”
Partridge was a little comforted with this last assurance; and though
he would more gladly have gone the contrary way, he followed his
leader, his heart beating time, but not after the manner of heroes, to
the music of the drum, which ceased not till they had traversed the
common, and were come into a narrow lane.
And now Partridge, who kept even pace with Jones, discovered something
painted flying in the air, a very few yards before him, which fancying
to be the colours of the enemy, he fell a bellowing, “Oh Lord, sir,
here they are; there is the crown and coffin. Oh Lord! I never saw
anything so terrible; and we are within gun-shot of them already.”
Jones no sooner looked up, than he plainly perceived what it was which
Partridge had thus mistaken. “Partridge,” says he, “I fancy you will
be able to engage this whole army yourself; for by the colours I guess
what the drum was which we heard before, and which beats up for
recruits to a puppet-show.”
“A puppet-show!” answered Partridge, with most eager transport. “And
is it really no more than that? I love a puppet-show of all the
pastimes upon earth. Do, good sir, let us tarry and see it. Besides, I
am quite famished to death; for it is now almost dark, and I have not
eat a morsel since three o'clock in the morning.”
They now arrived at an inn, or indeed an ale-house, where Jones was
prevailed upon to stop, the rather as he had no longer any assurance
of being in the road he desired. They walked both directly into the
kitchen, where Jones began to enquire if no ladies had passed that way
in the morning, and Partridge as eagerly examined into the state of
their provisions; and indeed his enquiry met with the better success;
for Jones could not hear news of Sophia; but Partridge, to his great
satisfaction, found good reason to expect very shortly the agreeable
sight of an excellent smoaking dish of eggs and bacon.
In strong and healthy constitutions love hath a very different effect
from what it causes in the puny part of the species. In the latter it
generally destroys all that appetite which tends towards the
conservation of the individual; but in the former, though it often
induces forgetfulness, and a neglect of food, as well as of everything
else; yet place a good piece of well-powdered buttock before a hungry
lover, and he seldom fails very handsomely to play his part. Thus it
happened in the present case; for though Jones perhaps wanted a
prompter, and might have travelled much farther, had he been alone,
with an empty stomach; yet no sooner did he sit down to the bacon and
eggs, than he fell to as heartily and voraciously as Partridge
himself.
Before our travellers had finished their dinner, night came on, and as
the moon was now past the full, it was extremely dark. Partridge
therefore prevailed on Jones to stay and see the puppet-show, which
was just going to begin, and to which they were very eagerly invited
by the master of the said show, who declared that his figures were the
finest which the world had ever produced, and that they had given
great satisfaction to all the quality in every town in England.
The puppet-show was performed with great regularity and decency. It
was called the fine and serious part of the Provoked Husband; and it
was indeed a very grave and solemn entertainment, without any low wit
or humour, or jests; or, to do it no more than justice, without
anything which could provoke a laugh. The audience were all highly
pleased. A grave matron told the master she would bring her two
daughters the next night, as he did not show any stuff; and an
attorney's clerk and an exciseman both declared, that the characters
of Lord and Lady Townley were well preserved, and highly in nature.
Partridge likewise concurred with this opinion.
The master was so highly elated with these encomiums, that he could
not refrain from adding some more of his own. He said, “The present
age was not improved in anything so much as in their puppet-shows;
which, by throwing out Punch and his wife Joan, and such idle
trumpery, were at last brought to be a rational entertainment. I
remember,” said he, “when I first took to the business, there was a
great deal of low stuff that did very well to make folks laugh; but
was never calculated to improve the morals of young people, which
certainly ought to be principally aimed at in every puppet-show: for
why may not good and instructive lessons be conveyed this way, as well
as any other? My figures are as big as the life, and they represent
the life in every particular; and I question not but people rise from
my little drama as much improved as they do from the great.” “I would
by no means degrade the ingenuity of your profession,” answered Jones,
“but I should have been glad to have seen my old acquaintance master
Punch, for all that; and so far from improving, I think, by leaving
out him and his merry wife Joan, you have spoiled your puppet-show.”
The dancer of wires conceived an immediate and high contempt for
Jones, from these words. And with much disdain in his countenance, he
replied, “Very probably, sir, that may be your opinion; but I have the
satisfaction to know the best judges differ from you, and it is
impossible to please every taste. I confess, indeed, some of the
quality at Bath, two or three years ago, wanted mightily to bring
Punch again upon the stage. I believe I lost some money for not
agreeing to it; but let others do as they will; a little matter shall
never bribe me to degrade my own profession, nor will I ever willingly
consent to the spoiling the decency and regularity of my stage, by
introducing any such low stuff upon it.”
“Right, friend,” cries the clerk, “you are very right. Always avoid
what is low. There are several of my acquaintance in London, who are
resolved to drive everything which is low from the stage.” “Nothing
can be more proper,” cries the exciseman, pulling his pipe from his
mouth. “I remember,” added he, “(for I then lived with my lord) I was
in the footman's gallery, the night when this play of the Provoked
Husband was acted first. There was a great deal of low stuff in it
about a country gentleman come up to town to stand for parliament-man;
and there they brought a parcel of his servants upon the stage, his
coachman I remember particularly; but the gentlemen in our gallery
could not bear anything so low, and they damned it. I observe, friend,
you have left all that matter out, and you are to be commended for
it.”
“Nay, gentlemen,” cries Jones, “I can never maintain my opinion
against so many; indeed, if the generality of his audience dislike
him, the learned gentleman who conducts the show might have done very
right in dismissing Punch from his service.”
The master of the show then began a second harangue, and said much of
the great force of example, and how much the inferior part of mankind
would be deterred from vice, by observing how odious it was in their
superiors; when he was unluckily interrupted by an incident, which,
though perhaps we might have omitted it at another time, we cannot
help relating at present, but not in this chapter.
Chapter vi.
From which it may be inferred that the best things are liable to be
misunderstood and misinterpreted.
A violent uproar now arose in the entry, where my landlady was well
cuffing her maid both with her fist and tongue. She had indeed missed
the wench from her employment, and, after a little search, had found
her on the puppet-show stage in company with the Merry Andrew, and in
a situation not very proper to be described.
Though Grace (for that was her name) had forfeited all title to
modesty; yet had she not impudence enough to deny a fact in which she
was actually surprized; she, therefore, took another turn, and
attempted to mitigate the offence. “Why do you beat me in this manner,
mistress?” cries the wench. “If you don't like my doings, you may turn
me away. If I am a w--e” (for the other had liberally bestowed that
appellation on her), “my betters are so as well as I. What was the
fine lady in the puppet-show just now? I suppose she did not lie all
night out from her husband for nothing.”
The landlady now burst into the kitchen, and fell foul on both her
husband and the poor puppet-mover. “Here, husband,” says she, “you see
the consequence of harbouring these people in your house. If one doth
draw a little drink the more for them, one is hardly made amends for
the litter they make; and then to have one's house made a bawdy-house
of by such lousy vermin. In short, I desire you would be gone
to-morrow morning; for I will tolerate no more such doings. It is only
the way to teach our servants idleness and nonsense; for to be sure
nothing better can be learned by such idle shows as these. I remember
when puppet-shows were made of good scripture stories, as Jephthah's
Rash Vow, and such good things, and when wicked people were carried
away by the devil. There was some sense in those matters; but as the
parson told us last Sunday, nobody believes in the devil now-a-days;
and here you bring about a parcel of puppets drest up like lords and
ladies, only to turn the heads of poor country wenches; and when their
heads are once turned topsy-turvy, no wonder everything else is so.”
Virgil, I think, tells us, that when the mob are assembled in a
riotous and tumultuous manner, and all sorts of missile weapons fly
about, if a man of gravity and authority appears amongst them, the
tumult is presently appeased, and the mob, which when collected into
one body, may be well compared to an ass, erect their long ears at the
grave man's discourse.
On the contrary, when a set of grave men and philosophers are
disputing; when wisdom herself may in a manner be considered as
present, and administering arguments to the disputants; should a
tumult arise among the mob, or should one scold, who is herself equal
in noise to a mighty mob, appear among the said philosophers; their
disputes cease in a moment, wisdom no longer performs her ministerial
office, and the attention of every one is immediately attracted by the
scold alone.
Thus the uproar aforesaid, and the arrival of the landlady, silenced
the master of the puppet-show, and put a speedy and final end to that
grave and solemn harangue, of which we have given the reader a
sufficient taste already. Nothing indeed could have happened so very
inopportune as this accident; the most wanton malice of fortune could
not have contrived such another stratagem to confound the poor fellow,
while he was so triumphantly descanting on the good morals inculcated
by his exhibitions. His mouth was now as effectually stopt, as that of
quack must be, if, in the midst of a declamation on the great virtues
of his pills and powders, the corpse of one of his martyrs should be