Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding

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Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 314

by Henry Fielding


  Guz. Don’t tell me of Princesses and Lords, I’m no Lord, I am an honest Man; and I can tell you, you may be a Gentleman, but you don’t act like one, to break a poor Man’s Windows in this manner.

  Quix. Deliver the Princess, Caitif.

  Guz. Pay me my Bill, Sir, and go out of my House, or I’ll fetch a Warrant for you; I’ll see whether a Man is to have his Victuals eat up, and Drink drank out, and Windows broke, and his Walls shatter’d, and his Guest disturb’d, for nothing.

  Quix. Ungracious Knight! who so often throwest in my Teeth that small Entertainment, which thou art oblig’d to give Men of my heroick Profession.

  Guz. I believe, indeed, your Profession does oblige People sometimes to give, whether they will or no.

  Quix. It is too plain, thou Wretch, why thou wouldest have me gone; thou knowest the Delivering of this high Lady thou dost detain, is reserved for me alone; but deliver her this Moment, with all her Attendants, all her Plate and Jewels which thou hast robb’d her of.

  Guz. Hear this, Neighbours, I am accus’d of stealing Plates and Jewels, when every Body knows I have but five Dozen of Plates, and those I bought and paid for honestly; and as for Jewels, the Devil of any Jewels are there in this House, but two Bobs that my Wife wears in her Ears, which were given her by Sir Thomas Loveland at his last Election.

  Quix. Cease thy Equivocations, and deliver them this Instant, or thou shalt find how vainly thou dost trust to all those Giants at thy Heels. [The Mob laugh.] Do you mock me, Caitifs? Now, thou most incomparable Dulcinea del Toboso, assist thy valiant Knight.

  [He drives them off, and Exit.

  SCENE V.

  A Chamber.

  Dorothea, Jezebel.

  Dor. Ha, ha, ha! in spite of all my Misfortunes, I cannot help laughing at the pleasant Adventure of the Knight of the woful Figure.

  Jez. Do you think, Madam, this is the very same Don — ; what d’ye call him, whom your Father saw in Spain, and of whom he has told us such pure pleasant Stories?

  Dor. The same, it can be no other. Oh, Jezebel! I wish my Adventure may end as happily as those of my Name-sake Dorothea’s did; I am sure they are very near as romantick: But have not I reason to blame Fairlove for suffering me to be here before him? The Lover that does not outfly his Mistress’s Desires, is slow indeed.

  Jez. And let me tell you, Madam, he must be very swift who does.

  AIR IV.

  Dor.

  Oh hasten my Lover, dear Cupid,

  Wing hither the Youth I admire;

  The Wretch is too lazy and stupid,

  Who leaves me but Time to desire.

  Let Prudes, who leave Lovers in Anguish,

  Themselves in their fonder Fits stay;

  But leave not the Virgin to languish,

  Who meets her true Lover half way.

  Well, I’m a mad Girl: Don’t you think this Husband of mine, that is to be, will have a delightful Task to tame me?

  Jez. By what I can see, he’s in a pretty fair way to be tamed himself.

  SCENE VI.

  Sancho, Dorothea, Jezebel.

  San. Pray, Ladies, which of you is the chanted Princess; or are you both chanted Princesses?

  Jez. What is it to you what we are, Saucebox?

  Dor. Peace, dear Jezebel. — This must be the illustrious Sancho himself. — I am the Princess Indoccalambria.

  San. My Master, the Knight of the Woful Figure (and a woful Figure he makes, sure enough) sends your Ladyship his humble Service, and hopes you will not take it amiss that he has not been able to knock all the People in the House on the Head; however, he has made it pretty well up in breaking the Windows; your Ladyship will lie pure and cool, for the Devil a whole Pane is there in all your Apartment; if the Glazier had hir’d him, he cou’d not have done better.

  Dor. Thou mighty Squire of the most mighty Knight upon Earth, give my grateful Thanks to your Master for what he has undertaken upon my Account; but tell him not to get his precious Bones bruis’d any more, for I am sufficiently assur’d this Adventure is reserv’d for some other Knight.

  San. Nay, nay, like enough; all Men cannot do all things; one Man gets an Estate, by what another gets a Halter. All is not Fish that swims. Many a Man wants a Wife, but more want to get rid of one. Two Cuckolds see each other’s Horns when neither of them can see his own. Money is the Fruit of Evil, as often as the Root of it. Charity seldom goes out of her own House; and Ill-nature is always a rambling abroad. Every Woman is a Beauty, if you will believe her own Glass; and few, if you will believe her Neighbours.

  Dor. Ha, ha, ha! Pray, Mr. Sancho, might not one hope to see your illustrious Master?

  San. Nothing would rejoice his Heart so much, Madam, unless it were to see my Lady Dulcinea herself. Ah, Madam, might I hope your Ladyship would speak a good Word for me?

  Dor. Name it, and be assur’d of any thing in my Power, honest Sancho.

  San. If your Princess-ship could but prevail on my Master, that I might not be sent home after my Lady Dulcinea; for, to tell you the Truth, Madam, I am so fond of the English rost Beef and strong Beer, that I don’t intend ever to set my Foot in Spain again, if I can help it: Give me a Slice of rost Beef before all the Rarities of Camacho’s Wedding.

  Dor. Bravely said, noble Squire.

  AIR V. The King’s Old Courtier.

  When mighty rost Beef was the Englishman’s Food,

  It enobled our Hearts, and enriched our Blood;

  Our Soldiers were brave, and our Courtiers were good.

  Oh the Rost Beef of Old England,

  And Old England’s Rost Beef!

  Then, Britons, from all nice Dainties refrain,

  Which effeminate Italy, France, and Spain;

  And mighty Rost Beef shall command on the Main.

  Oh the Rost Beef, &c.

  San.

  Oh the Rost Beef, &c.

  Dor. I have been told, noble Squire, that you once impos’d a certain Lady for Dulcinea on your Master; now what think you if this young Lady here should personate that incomparable Princess?

  Jez. Who, I?

  San. Adod! your Princess-ship has hit it; for he has never seen this Dulcinea, nor has any body else that I can hear of; and who my Lady Dulcinea should be, I don’t know, unless she be one of your chanted Ladies: The Curate of our Parish, and Mr. Nicholas the Barber, have often told me there was no such Woman, and that my Master was a Madman; and sometimes I am half at a loss to guess whether he be mad or no. I’m sure, if it was not for the sake of a little Island that I am to govern, I should not have follow’d his Errantries so long.

  Dor. Fy, do not entertain such unworthy Thoughts of that most glorious Knight.

  San. Nay, Madam, I can’t find in my Heart to think him mad neither; for he will talk sometimes, ‘twould do one good to hear him talk; he will talk ye three Hours, and I shan’t understand one Word he says. Our Curate was a Fool to e’en; and yet he has talk’d what I could not understand neither, but that’s neither here nor there; an empty Purse causes a full Heart; an old Woman’s a very bad Bribe, but a very good Wife; Conscience often stops at a Molehill, and leaps over a Mountain; the Law guards us from all Evil but itself; what’s Vice to-day is Virtue to-morrow; ‘tis not only Plumbs that make a Pudding; Physick makes you first sick, and then well; Wine first makes you well, and then sick.

  Jez. And your Proverbs would make the Devil sick.

  Dor. Lose no time, good Sancho, but acquaint the most invincible Knight that the Lady Dulcinea is in the Castle; we’ll manage the matter so dexterously, you shall be in no danger of a Discovery.

  San. Since my bringing the last Dulcinea to him, I do not fear that; he that can swallow a Goose will hardly keck at a Gander; the Bear may well dance when the Ass plays on the Fiddle.

  [Exit Sancho.

  SCENE VII.

  Dorothea, Jezebel.

  Dor. Ha, ha, ha! Well, for the future, I will never disbelieve a Traveller; the Knight and his Squire are full as ridiculous as they were descr
ib’d: We shall have rare Diversion.

  Jez. Poor Fairlove! thou art quite forgotten.

  Dor. I’ve rather reason to think Dorothea so: I am sure, when a Lover suffers his Mistress to come first to the Place of Appointment, he cannot blame any innocent Amusement with which she would shorten his Absence; and to confess a Truth to you, while I am still under Apprehensions of the Match my Father intends for me, I have too great Cause to try to divert my Grief.

  AIR VI. From Aberdeen to Edinburgh.

  Happy the Animals who stray,

  In Freedom thro’ the Grove;

  No Laws in Love they e’er obey,

  But those prescrib’d by Love:

  While We, confin’d to Parents Rules,

  Unfortunate, are told,

  None follow Love’s sweet Laws, but Fools;

  The Wise are Slaves to Gold.

  [Exeunt.

  SCENE VIII.

  The Street.

  Mr. Mayor, and a Voter.

  May. Well, Neighbour, what’s your Opinion of this strange Man that is come to Town, Don Quixote, as he calls himself?

  Vot. Think! why, that he’s a Madman. What shou’d I think?

  May. ‘Ecod! it runs in my Head that he is come to stand for Parliament-man.

  Vot. How can that be, Neighbour, they tell me he’s a Spaniard?

  May. What’s that to us? Let him look to his Qualifications when we have chose him. If he can’t sit in the House, that’s his Fault.

  Vot. Nay, nay, he can’t be chose if he should stand; for, to my certain Knowledge, the Corporation have promis’d Sir Thomas Loveland and Mr. Bouncer.

  May. Pugh! all Promises are conditional; and let me tell you, Mr. Retail, I begin to smoke a Plot. I begin to apprehend no Opposition, and then we’re sold, Neighbour.

  Vot. No, no, Neighbour; then we shall not be sold, and that’s worse: But rather than it should come to that, I would ride all over the Kingdom for a Candidate; and if I thought Sir Thomas intended to steal us in this manner, he should have no Vote of mine, I assure you. I shall vote for no Man who holds the Corporation cheap.

  May. Then suppose we were to go in a Body, and solicit Sir Don Quixote to stand? As for his being mad, while he’s out of Bedlam it does not signify.

  Vot. But there is another Objection, Neighbour, which I am afraid the Corporation will never get over.

  May. What’s that, pr’ythee?

  Vot. They say he has brought no Money with him.

  May. Ay, that indeed: But tho’ he hath no Money with him here, I am assur’d by his Servant that he hath a very large Estate: And so, if the other Party come down handsomly with the Ready, we may trust him; for you know, at last, we have nothing to do but not to choose him, and then we may recover all he owes us.

  Vot. I do not care to be sold, Neighbour.

  May. Nor I neither, Neighbour, by any but myself. I think that is the Privilege of a free Briton.

  SCENE X.

  Guzzle, Mayor, Retail.

  Guz. Mr. Mayor, a good Morrow to you, Sir; are you for a Whet, this Morning?

  May. With all my Heart; but what’s become of the Gentleman, the Traveller?

  Guz. He’s laid down to sleep, I believe; pretty well tired with Work. What the Devil to do with him, I can’t tell.

  May. My Neighbour and I have a strange Thought come into our Heads; you know, Mr. Guzzle, we are like to have no Opposition, and that I believe you will feel the want of, as much as any Man. Now, d’ye see, we have taken it into Consideration, whether we should not ask this Sir Don to represent us.

  Guz. With all my Heart; if either of you will hang out a Sign and entertain him; but he is far enough in my Books already.

  May. You are too cautious, Master Guzzle; I make no doubt but he is some very rich Man, who pretends to be poor in order to get his Election the cheaper; he can have no other Design in staying among us. For my part, I make no doubt but that he is come to stand on the Court Interest.

  Guz. Nay, nay, if he stands at all, it is on the Court Side, no doubt; for he talks of nothing but Kings, and Princes, and Princesses, and Emperors, and Empresses.

  May. Ay, ay, an Officer in the Army too, I warrant him, if we knew but the bottom.

  Guz. He seems, indeed, to be damnably sond of Free-Quarter.

  Ret. But if you think he intends to offer himself, would it not be wiser to let him; for then, you know, if he spends never so much, we shall not be oblig’d to choose him.

  May. Brother Alderman, I have reproved you already for that way of Reasoning; it savours too much of Bribery. I like an Opposition, because otherwise a Man may be oblig’d to vote against his Party; therefore when we invite a Gentleman to stand, we invite him to spend his Money for the Honour of his Party; and when both Parties have spent as much as they are able, every honest Man will vote according to his Conscience.

  Guz. Mr. Mayor talks like a Man of Sense and Honour, and it does me good to hear him.

  May. Ay, ay, Mr. Guzzle, I never gave a Vote contrary to my Conscience. I have very earnestly recommended the Country-Interest to all my Brethren: But before that, I recommended the Town-Interest, that is, the Interest of this Corporation; and first of all I recommended to every particular Man to take a particular Care of himself. And it is with a certain way of Reasoning, That he that serves me best, will serve the Town best; and he that serves the Town best, will serve the Country best.

  Guz. See what it is to have been at Oxford; the Parson in the Parish himself can’t out-talk him.

  May. Come, Landlord, we’ll have one Bottle, and drink Success to the Corporation: These Times come but seldom, therefore we ought to make the best of them. Come along.

  [Exeunt.

  ACT II.

  SCENE I.

  SCENE, A Chamber in the Inn.

  Don Quixote, Sancho.

  Quix. THOU hast, by this time, fully perceiv’d, Sancho, the extreme Difficulties and Dangers of Knight-Errantry.

  San. Ay, and of ‘Squire-Errantry too, an’t please your Worship.

  Quix. But Virtue is its own Reward.

  San. Your Worship may have a Relish for these Rewards, perhaps; but to speak truly, I am a poor plain Man, and know nothing of these fine things; and for any Reward I have hitherto got, I had much rather have gone without it. As for an Island, I believe I could relish it as well as another; but a Man may catch cold while his Coat is making: And since you may provide for me in a much easier way, if I might be so bold as to speak —

  Quix. Thou knowest I will deny thee nothing, which is fit for me to give, or thee to take.

  San. Then if your Worship wou’d be so good as to set me up in an Inn, I should make a rare Landlord; and it is a very thriving Trade among the English.

  Quix. And couldst thou descend so low, ignoble Wretch?

  San. Any thing to get an honest Livelihood, which is more than I find we are like to do in the way we are going on: For, if I durst speak it —

  Quix. Speak fearlesly. — I will only impute it to thy Ignorance.

  San. Why then I find, Sir, that we are look’d on here to be, neither more nor less, better or worse, than a couple of Madmen.

  Quix. Sancho, I am not concern’d at the evil Opinion of Men. Indeed, if we consider who are their Favourites, we shall have no reason to be so fond of their Applause. Virtue, Sancho, is too bright for their Eyes, and they dare not behold her. Hypocrisy is the Deity they worship. Is not the Lawyer often call’d an honest Man, when for a sneaking Fee he pleads the Villain’s Cause, or attempts to extort Evidence to the Conviction of the Innocent? Does not the Physician live well in his Neighbourhood, while he suffers them to bribe his Ignorance to their Destruction? But why should I mention those whose Profession ‘tis to prey on others? Look thro’ the World, What is it recommends Men, but the Poverty, the Vice, and the Misery of others? This, Sancho, they are sensible of, and therefore, instead of endeavouring to make himself better, each Man endeavours to make his Neighbour worse. Each Man rises to Admiration by treading on Ma
nkind. Riches and Power accrue to the One, by the Destruction of Thousands. These are the general Objects of the good Opinion of Men: Nay, and that which is profess’d to be paid to Virtue, is seldom more to any thing than a supercilious Contempt of our Neighbour. What is a good-natur’d Man? Why, one, who seeing the Want of his Friend, cries he pities him. Is this real? No: If it was, he would relieve him. His Pity is triumphant Arrogance and Insult: It arises from his Pride, not from his Compassion. Sancho, let them call me mad; I’m not mad enough to court their Approbation.

  San. Oh! good your Worship, proceed: I could fast an Hour longer to hear your Discourse.

  SCENE II.

  Guzzle, Don Quixote, Sancho.

 

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