Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding

by Henry Fielding

  Badg. Do you know Sir Thomas then, Sir?

  Fair. Very intimately well, Sir.

  Badg. Give me your Hand, Sir. — You are an-honest Cock, I warrant you. — Why, Sir, I am going to fall in Love with Sir Thomas’s Daughter.

  Fair. You can’t avoid that, Sir, if you see her; for she is the most agreeable Woman in the World

  Badg. And then she sings like a Nightingale! Now that is a very fine Quality in a Wife; for you know, the more she sings, the less she’ll talk. Some Folks like Women for their Wit; Odsbodlikins! it is a sign they have none of their own; there is nothing a Man of good Sense dreads so much in a Wife, as her having more Sense than himself.

  AIR IX. Lillibulero.

  Like Gold to a Miser, the Wit of a Lass,

  More Trouble than Joy to her Husband may bring.

  Fair.

  That Fault’s in the Miser, and not in the Mass;

  He knows not to use so precious a Thing.

  Badg.

  Wit teaches how

  To arm your Brow;

  A Price for that Treasure some Husbands have paid.

  Fair.

  But Wit will conceal it;

  And if you don’t feel it,

  A Horn’s but a Pimple scarce seen on your Head.

  SCENE IX.

  Fairlove, Squire Badger, John.

  John. Sir, Sir!

  Fair. Well, what now?

  John. [Whispers.]

  Fair. How! here?

  John. I saw her, Sir, upon my Honour.

  Fair. I am the happiest of Mankind. [Aside.] — Brother Traveller, farewel.

  Badg. What, shan’t we drink together?

  Fair. Another time, Sir; I am in a little Haste at present. — [Aside.] Harkye, John, I leave you with my Rival, I need say no more. — Dear Dorothea, ten thousand Raptures are in the dear Name.

  [Exit.

  SCENE X.

  John, Squire Badger, Don Quixote.

  Badg. Harkye, Mister; what is your Master’s Name, pray?

  John. Master, Sir?

  Badg. I say, your Master’s Name.

  John. What do you see in me that should make you ask me my Master’s Name? I suppose you would take it very ill of me, if I were to ask you what your Master’s Name is. Do I look so little like a Gentleman as to stand in need of a Master?

  Badg. Oh, Sir, I ask your Pardon; your Dress, Sir, was the Occasion of my Mistake.

  John. Probable enough; among you Country Gentlemen, and really in Town, Gentlemen and Footmen dress so very like one another, that it is somewhat difficult to know which is which.

  Badg. May be, Sir, then, you are only an Acquaintance of this Gentleman’s.

  John. A travelling Acquaintance.

  Badg. May I crave his Name, Sir?

  John. Oh, Sir! his Name, his Name, Sir, is Sir Gregory Nebuchaddonnezzar. He is a very rich Jew, an Italian by Birth, born in the City of Cork. He is a going into Cornwal to take possession of a small Estate of Twenty thousand Pounds a Year, left him the other Day by a certain Dutch Merchant’s Mistress, with whom he had an Intrigue. He is a Gentleman, Sir, universally esteem’d in the Beau Monde.

  Badg. Beau Monde! Pray, what’s that?

  John. Beau Monde, Sir, is as much as to say, a Man of Figure; when you say, he is a Man of the Beau Monde, you mean just such another Person as I am.

  Badg. You will pardon the Ignorance of a Country Gentleman.

  John. Oh, Sir! we of the Beau Monde are never offended at Ignorance.

  Quix. [Within.] Avant, Caitifs! — think not, thou most accursed Giant, ever to enter within this Castle, to bring any more captive Princesses hither.

  Badg. Heyday! What’s the matter now?

  Coachman. [Within.] Open the Gates, will you? Are you Mad?

  Quix. You, my Lord of the Castle, suffer them to be opened at your Peril.

  John. One might think, by this Noise, that we were at the Outside of the Opera-House, at a Ridotto.

  SCENE XI.

  Mrs. Guzzle, John, Squire Badger.

  Mrs. Guz. For Heaven’s sake, Gentlemen, come and assist us; this mad Don Quixote will ruin my House; he won’t suffer the Stage-Coach to come into the Yard. Dear, good Gentlemen, come and speak to him. — Oh! that ever I should live to see him!

  John. I am too much a Gentleman not to assist a Lady in Distress. — Come, Sir.

  Badg. After you, Sir; I am not quite unbred.

  John. O dear, Sir.

  SCENE XII.

  A Yard.

  Don Quixote arm’d Cap-a-pee, his Lance in his Hand; Sancho, Guzzle, Squire Badger, John, Mrs. Guzzle.

  Coachman. [Within.] If you don’t open the Gates this Instant, I’ll go to another Inn.

  Brief. [Within.] Sir, I’ll have your House indicted; I’ll have your Sign taken down.

  Guz. Gentlemen, here is a Madman in the Yard. — Will you let me open the Gates, or no, Sir?

  Quix. Open them, and I will shew thee, that I want no Walls to secure me. — Open them, I say. — You shall see the Force of one single Knight.

  Mrs. Guz. Dear Gentlemen, will no body knock his Brains out?

  John. This is the most comical Dog I ever saw in my Life. [Aside.

  Badg. If I have any thing to say to him while he has that Thing in his Hand, may I have it in my Guts that Moment.

  Guz. There, the Gates are open.

  Quix. Now, thou peerless Princess, Dulcinea.

  [Exit.

  Coachman, Gee, Gee, Boys, Hup!

  [Exeunt Sancho, &c.

  SCENE XIII.

  Mrs. Guzzle, Mr. Brief, Dr. Drench, Mr. Sneak, Mrs. Sneak, Miss Sneak; Maid with Candles.

  Mrs. Sneak. Don’t be frightned, my Dear, there is no Danger now.

  Mr. Sneak. That’s owing to me, my Dear; if we had not got out of the Coach, as I advis’d, we had been in a fine Condition.

  Brief. Who is this Fellow, Woman, that has caus’d all this Rout?

  Mrs. Guz. Oh! dear Mr. Counsellor, I am almost frightned out of my Wits; he is the Devil, I think. — I can’t get him out of my House.

  Brief. What, have you no Justice of the Peace near you? You should apply to a Justice of Peace. The Law provides a very good Remedy for these sort of People; I’ll take your Affair into my Hands. Dr. Drench, do you know no neighbouring Justice?

  Drench. What, do you talk of a Justice? The Man is mad, and Physick is properer for him than Law. I’ll take him in hand my self, after Supper.

  Mrs. Sneak. I wish, Mr. Sneak, you would go into the Kitchen, and see what we can have for Supper.

  [Exit.

  Mr. Sneak. Yes, my Dear.

  Brief. Ay, do; the fresh Air of the Downs, I protest, has got me an Appetite. — Ladies, how do you do after your Fright? Doctor, I fansy a Dram of that Cordial, you carry in your Pocket, would do the Ladies no harm.

  Mrs. Sneak. You are a merry Man, Mr. Counsellor; come, Child.

  Mrs. Guz. This way, Ladies.

  [Exeunt Women.

  SCENE XIV.

  Mr. Brief, Dr. Drench, Don Quixote, Sancho, Squire Badger, John.

  Badg. Huzza! Hark, hark! — Agad, he has routed the Coach and Horses bravely! my Landlord and the Coachman won’t overtake them one while, I warrant.

  Quix. Most illustrious, and high Lords, it is with great Pleasure that I congratulate you on your Delivery, which you owe only to the peerless Dulcinea; I desire therefore no other Return, but that you both repair immediately to Toboso, and render your selves at her Feet.

  Drench. Poor Man! poor Man! he must be put to Bed. I shall apply some proper Remedies. His Frenzy is very high, but I hope we shall be able to take it off.

  Brief. His Frenzy! his Roguery; the Fellow’s a Rogue; he is no more mad than I am; and the Coachman and Landlord both have very good Actions at Law against him.

  Quix. Sancho, do thou attend those Princes to the richest and most beautiful Apartments. — Most illustrious Princes, the Governor of this Castle is an Inchanter; but be not alarm’d at it, for all the P
owers of Hell shall not hurt you. I will my self keep on the Guard all this Night for your Safety; and tomorrow I expect you set forward for Toboso.

  Drench. Galen calls this Phrenzy the Phrenabracum.

  Brief. My Lord Coke brings these People into the Number of common Cheats.

  Drench. I shall order him Bleeding, Glistering, Vomiting, Purging, Biistering, and Cupping.

  Brief. He may, besides an Action of Assault and Battery, be indicted in the Crown; he may also have an Action of Damages and Trespasses laid on him. — In short, if he be worth Five thousand Pounds, I don’t question but to action him out on’t. — Come, Doctor, if you please, we will attend the Ladies.

  [Exeunt.

  Badg. Why, Mr. Quixote, do you know who these People were you call’d Princes?

  Quix. One of them I take to be the Prince of Sarmatia, and the other of the Five Mountains.

  Badg. One of them is a Lawyer, and t’other a Physician.

  Quix. Monstrous Inchantment! what odd Shapes this Merlin transforms the greatest People into! but Knight-Errantry will be too hard for him at last.

  [Exit.

  John. Ha, ha, ha! a comical Dog!

  Badg. If you will accept of one Bottle of Stout, Brother-Traveller, it is at your Service.

  John. With all my Heart, Sir. I’m afraid this Fellow has no good Champaign in his House.

  [Exeunt.

  San. Hey! is the Coast clear’d? Where in the Devil’s Name has this mad Master of mine disposed himself? for mad he is now, that’s certain; this last Adventure has put it past all manner of Dispute. Ah, poor Sancho! what will become of thee? Would it not be the wisest way to look out for some new Master, while thou hast any whole Bones in thy Skin: And yet, I can’t find in my Heart to forsake my old one, at least till I have got this small Island; and then perhaps, when I have it, I shall lose it again, as I did my former Government. — Well, if ever I do lay my Fingers on an Island more, I’ll act like other wise Governors, fall to plundering as fast as I can, and when I have made my Fortune, why, let them turn me out if they will.

  AIR X. Black Joke.

  The more we see of Human-kind,

  The more Deceits and Tricks we find,

  In every Land, as well as Spain:

  For wou’d he ever hope to thrive,

  Upon the Mountains he must live;

  For nought but Rogues in Vales remain:

  The Miser and the Man will trick,

  The Mistress and the Maid will nick.

  For Rich and Poor

  Are Rogue and Whore;

  There’s not one honest man in a Score,

  Nor Woman true in Twenty-four.

  The End of the Second Act.

  ACT III.

  SCENE I.

  SCENE, A Room.

  Fairlove, Dorothea, Mrs. Guzzle.

  Fairlove. DEPEND on it, you shall be made amends for your Damage you have sustain’d from this heroick Knight and his Squire.

  Mrs. Guz. You look like a very honourable Gentleman, Sir, and I would take your Word for a great deal more than he owes me.

  Dor. But pray, Mrs. Guzzle, how came you by this fine Dress, in which the Lady Dulcinea is to be exhibited?

  Mrs. Guz. About a Month ago, Madam, there was a Company of Stage-Players here, and they staid for above a Fortnight acting their Shows: But I don’t know how it happen’d, the Gentry did not give them much Encouragement; so at last they all run away, except the Queen, whom I made bold to strip of her Finery, which is all that I have to shew for their whole Reckoning.

  Dor. Ha, ha, ha! Poor Queen! Poor travelling Princess!

  Mrs. Guz. The Devil travel with her to the World’s End, so she travel not hither; send me any thing but Stage-players and Knight-Errants. I’m sure Fifty Pounds won’t make me whole again; would your Ladyship think it, Madam? Beside other Articles, she ran in tick Twenty Shillings for Thunder and Lighting.

  SCENE II.

  Jezebel, Sancho, Fairlove, Dorothea, Mrs. Guzzle.

  Dor. Behold the peerless Princess! Ha, ha, ha! Oh, I shall die! Ha, ha, ha!

  San. Zooks! she’ll put the real Dulcinea out of countenance, for no such gorgeous fine Lady have I seen in all Toboso.

  Fair. Is the Knight appris’d, Mr. Sancho, of the Approach of his Mistress?

  San. Yes, Sir, it had like to have cost me dear, I’m sure; for when I told him of it, he gave me such a Hug, that I thought I shou’d never have fetch’d Breath any more in this World. I believe he took me for the Lady Dulcinea her self.

  Dor. But why bootted and spurr’d, Mr. Sancho? Are you going a Journey?

  San. Yes, Madam, your Ladyship knows I was ordered to go for my Lady Dulcinea; so what does me I, but rides into the Kitchen, where I whipt and spurr’d about a Sirloin of rost Beef, for a full half Hour. Then slap, I return’d to my Master, whom I found leaning upon his Spear, with his Eyes lifted up to the Stars, calling out upon my Toboso Lady, as if the Devil were in his Guts; as soon as he sees me, Sancho, says he, with a Voice like a great Gun, wilt thou never have sufficiently stuffed thy Wallet? Wilt thou never set out for Toboso? Heavens bless your Honour’s Worship, and keep you in your Senses, says I; I am just return’d from thence; I am sure, if you felt half the Weariness in your Bones that I do, you’d think you set out with a Vengeance. Truly then, Sancho, thou must have travelled by Chantment. I don’t know whether I travelled by Chantment; but this I know, that about Five Miles off I met my Lady Dulcinea. How! says he, and gave such a Spring, I thought he would have leapt over the Wall. Ay, says I, sure I know her Ladyship. He that has stood in the Piliory ought to know what Wood it is made of; and a Woman, who walks the Streets, ought to know whether they are pav’d or no.

  Jez. I hope he won’t offer to be rude.

  San. Your Ladyship need not fear that. I dare swear he loves your Ladyship so much, he would not take a Hundred Pound to come within a Yard of you; he’s one of your high bred sort of Gentry, and knows his Distance.

  Jez. Shou’d he offer to touch me, I shou’d faint.

  San. If your Ladyship pleases, I’ll convey you to a proper Place where you may see my Master, and then I’ll go and prepare him a little more for your Arrival.

  Mrs. Guz. I’ll go see this Show, I’m resolv’d; and, faith, I begin to doubt which of my Guests is the maddest.

  SCENE III.

  Fairlove, Dorothea.

  Dor. Shall we follow to the Window, and see the Sport?

  Fair. How can my Dorothea think of trifling at this time?

  Dor. Had I sound you at my first Arrival, I should scarce have invented this Design; but I cannot see any Retardment ‘twill be to our Purpose.

  Fair. Why should we not fly away this Instant; who knows but you may be pursued? I shall have no easy Moment till you are mine beyond any possibility of losing you.

  Dor. The Morning will be time enough; for I have taken such Measures, I shall not be miss’d till then; besides, I think there was something so lucky in your coming hither without having received my Letter, that I cannot suspect the happy Success of our Affair. Ah, Fairlove! would I were as sure it would be always in your Will, as it will be in your Power, to make me happy: But when I reflect on your former Life, when I think what a Rover you have been, have I not a just Occasion then for Fear?

  Fair. Unkind Dorothea!

  AIR XI. Have you heard of a frolicksom Ditty, &c.

  Wou’d Fortune, the Truth to discover,

  Of him you suspect as a Rover,

  Bid me be to some Princess a Lover,

  No Princess wou’d Billy pursue.

  Dor.

  Wou’d Heaven but grant me the Trial,

  A Monanch shou’d meet my Denial;

  And while other Lovers I’d fly all,

  I’d fly, my dear Billy, to you.

  Fair.

  Whole Ages my Dolly enjoying,

  Is a Feast that cou’d never be cloying;

  With thee while I’m kissing and toying,