Kind Fortune can give me no more.
Dor.
With thee I’m so blest beyond Measure,
I laugh at all Offers of Treasure;
I laugh at all Offers of Pleasure;
Thou art all my Joy and my Store.
Both.
With thee, &c.
SCENE IV.
Servants with Lights before Sir Thomas and Guzzle.
Sir Tho. Landlord, how fares it? You seem to drive a humming Trade here.
Guz Pretty well, considering the Hardness of the Times, an’t please your Honour.
Sir Tho. Better Times are a coming, a new Election is not far off.
Guz. Ay, Sir, if we had but an Election once a Year, a Man might make a shift to pick up a Livelihood.
Sir Tho. Once a Year! why, thou unconscionable Rogue! the Kingdom would not be able to supply us with Malt. But pr’ythee whom hast thou in thy House, any honest Fellows? Ha!
Guz. Here’s Lawyer Brief, Sir, and Dr. Drench; and there’s Mr. Sneak and his Wife; then there’s one Squire Badger of Somersetshire.
Sir Tho. Oho! give my Service to him instantly, tell him I should be very glad to see him.
Guz. Yes, an’t please your Honour.
[Exit.
Sir Tho. This Fellow is not quite of a right Kidney, the Dog is not sound at the Bottom; however, I must keep well with him till after the next Election. Now for my Son-in-law, that is to be, whom I long mightily to see; I’m sure his Estate makes him a very advantageous Match for my Daughter, if she can but like his Person; and if he be describ’d right to me, I don’t see how she can fail of doing that.
SCENE V.
Sir Thomas, Squire Badger, Guzzle, John.
Guz. Here’s the Squire, an’t please your Honour.
Sir Tho. Mr. Badger, I’m your most humble Servant; you’re welcome into this Country; I’ve done my self the Honour, Sir, to meet you thus far, in order to conduct you to my Daughter.
Badg. I suppose, Sir, you may be Sir Thomas Loveland.
Sir Tho. At your Service, Sir.
Badg. Then I wish, when you had been about it, you had brought your Daughter along with you.
Sir Tho. Ha, ha! you are merry, Sir.
Badg. Ay, Sir, and you wou’d have been merry, if you had been in such Company as I have been in. My Lord! ‘Sbud! where’s my Lord? ‘Sbud! Sir Thomas, my Lord Slang is one of the merriest Men you ever knew in your Life; he has been telling me a Parcel of such Stories!
John. I protest, Sir, you are so extremely well-bred, you put me out of countenance; Sir Thomas, I am your most obedient humble Servant.
Sir Tho. I suppose this Lord can’t afford to keep a Footman, and so he wears his own Livery.
Badg. I wish, my Lord, you would tell Sir Thomas the Story about you and the Dutchess of what d’ye call her. — Odsheart! it is one of the pleasantest Stories! about how she met him in the Dark at a Masquerade, and about how she gave him a Letter; and then about how he carried her to a, to a, to a —
John. To a Bagnio, to a Bagnio.
Badg. Ay, to a Bagnio. ‘Sbud, Sir, if I was not partly engag’d in Honour to court your Daughter, I’d go to London along with my Lord, where Women are, it seems, as plenty as Rabbets in a Warren. Had I known as much of the World before, as I do now, I believe I shou’d scarce have thought of marrying. Who’d marry, when my Lord says, here, a Man may have your great sort of Ladies, only for wearing a broder’d Coat, telling half a Dozen Lies, and making a Bow.
Sir Tho. I believe, Sir, my Daughter won’t force ye against your Inclination.
Badg. Force me! No; I believe not Icod! I should be glad to see a Woman that should force me. If you come to that, Sir, I’m not afraid of you, nor your Daughter neither.
Sir Tho. This Fellow’s a great Fool; but his Estate must not be lost. [Aside.] — You misunderstand me, Sir, I believe you will have no Incivility to complain of, from either me or my Daughter.
Badg. Nay, Sir, for that matter, when People are civil to me, I know how to be civil to them again; come, Father-in-law of mine, that is to be, what say you to a cherishing Cup; and you shall hear some of my Lord’s Stories?
Sir Tho. As far as one Bottle, Squire, but you must not exceed.
Badg. Nay, nay, you may e’en sneak off when you please: My Lord and I here, are very good Company by our selves. Pray, my Lord, go first; I’d have you think I have got some Manners.
[Exeunt.
Sir Tho. A very hopeful Spark this. But he has a great Estate; and I have no Notion of refusing an Estate, let the Man be what he will.
SCENE VI.
The Yard.
Don Quixote, Sancho.
Quix. How far dost thou think the advanc’d Guards are yet from the Castle?
San. Sir!
Quix. But perhaps she may choose to travel incognita, and may, for the greater Expedition, have left those curs’d, useless, heavy Troops, her Horse-Guards, to follow a Month or two hence. How many Coaches didst thou number?
San. Truly, Sir, they were so many, I could not number them. I dare swear there were a good round Baker’s Dozen, at least.
Quix. Sancho, thou wilt never leave debasing the greatest things in thy vile Phrases. Wilt thou eternally put my Patience to the Test? Take heed, unworthy Squire, when thou art talking of this incomparable and peerless Princess, thou dost it not in any of thy low Ribaldry; for if thou dost, by all the Powers of this invincible Arm —
San. Oh, spare me, spare me! — And if ever I offend your Worship any more, if ever I crack a Jest on my Lady Dulcinea —
Quix. Proceed! What Knights attend her Presence?
San. They make such a Glittering, Sir, ‘tis impossible to know one from the other; they look for all the World at a Distance, like a Flock of Sheep.
Quix. Ha! again!
San. Nay, Sir, if your Worship won’t let a Man talk in his own Language, he must e’en hold his Tongue. Every Man is not bred at a Varsity, who looks for a Courtier’s Tongue between the Teeth of a Clown. An ill Phrase may come from a good Heart. Many Men, many Minds; many Minds, many Mouths; many Mouths, many Tongues; many Tongues; many Words.
Quix. Cease thy Torrent of Impertinence, and tell me, is not the Knight of the Black Eagle there?
San. Ay marry is he, Sir, and he of the black Ram too. On they trot, Sir, Cheek by Jole, Sir, for all the World like two Butter-Women to Market; then comes my Lady Dulcinea all Rampant in her Coach, with half a score dozen Maids of Honour; twou’d have done your Heart good to see her, she looks e’en just like —
Quix. Like a milk-white Dove amongst a Flight of Crows.
San. To all the World, like a new half Crown Piece, amongst a heap of old Brass Farthings.
SCENE VII.
Drawer with a Light, Brief, Don Quixote, Sancho.
Draw. This Way, Sir, take care how you tread.
Quix. Ha! she approaches! the Torches are already arriv’d at the Gate, the great Fulgoran is alighted. O thou most welcome of all Knights, let me embrace thee.
Brief. Let me alone pr’ythee, Fellow, or I shall have you laid by the Heels; what do you mean to rob me, hey?
Quix. Is it possible, the mighty Fulgoran should not know me?
Brief. Know ye! ‘tis not to your Advantage, I believe, to be known. Let me tell you, Sirrah, you may be try’d on the Black Act, for going about disguis’d in this Manner; and but that I shall go a better Way to work with you, as good an Indictment wou’d lie on that Act —
Quix. Behold, Sir, my Lady Dulcinea her self.
Brief. Light on, Boy, the next Justice ought to be indicted for not putting the Laws in Execution against such Fellows.
SCENE VIII.
Don Quixote, Sancho, Jezebel.
Quix. O most illustrious, and most mighty Princess, with what Looks shall I behold you? with what Words shall I thank you for this infinite Goodness to your unworthy Knight?
Jez. Rise, Sir.
Quix. Do not overwhelm me with too much Goodness; tho’ to see you be inexpressible Happiness
, yet to see you here gives me some Uneasiness: For, O most adorable Princess, this Castle is inchanted, Giants and captive Ladies inhabit only here.
Jez. Could I but be assured of your Constancy, I should have no Fear; but, alas! there are so many Instances of perjur’d Men.
AIR XII. Cold and raw, &c.
A Virgin once was walking along,
In the sweet Month of July,
Blooming, beautiful and young,
She met with a Swain unruly,
Within his Arms the Nymph he caught,
And swore he’d love her truly;
The Maid remember’d, the Man forgot,
What past in the Month of July.
Quix. Eternal Curses light on all such perjur’d Wretches!
Jez. But tho’ you may be constant at first, when we have been married a great while, and have had several Children, you may leave me, and then I should break my Heart.
Quix. Rather may the universal Frame of Nature be dissolv’d, perish first, all Honesty, Honour, Virtue, nay Knight-Errantry it self, that Quintessence of all.
Jez. Cou’d I always remain young as I am now, but alack-a-day I shall grow old, and then you will forsake me for some younger Maiden; I know it is the way of all you Men, you all love young Flesh. You all Sing,
AIR XIII. Giminiani’s Minuet.
Sweet’s the little Maid,
That has not learnt her Trade,
Fears, yet languishes to be taught;
Tho’ she’s shy and coy,
Still she’ll give you Joy.
When she’s once to Compliance brought,
Women full of Skill
Sooner grant your Will;
But often purchas’d are good for nought.
Sweet’s the little Maid, &c.
Quix. Oh most Divine Princess! whose Voice is infinitely sweeter than the Nightingale: Oh, charm my Ears no more with such transporting Melody, lest I find my Joy too exquisite for Sense to bear.
SCENE IX.
Don Quixote, Sancho, Fairlove, Dorothea, Jezebel.
Dor. Pity, illustrious Knight; oh, pity an unhappy Princess, who has no hopes of Safety, but from your victorious Arm. This Instant I am pursu’d by a mighty Giant.
Quix. Oh, most adorable Dulcinea! unless some Affair of your own forbid, permit your Knight to undertake this Adventure.
Jez. You can’t oblige me more.
San. Nor me less; Oh! the Devil take all Giant Adventures, now shall I have my Bones broke, I’d give an Arm or two to secure the rest with all my Heart, I’ll e’en sneak off if I can, and preserve the whole.
Quix. Sancho, come here! Stand thou in the Front, and receive the first Onset of the Enemy, that so I may wait a proper Opportunity, while the Giant is aiming at thy Head, to strike off his.
San. Ah, Sir, I have been a Squire-Erranting to some purpose truly, if I don’t know better than to stand before my Master. Beside, Sir, every Man in his Way. I am the worst Man in the World at the beginning of the Battle, but a very Devil at the end of it.
SCENE X.
John, Fairlove, Don Quixote, Dorothea, Jezebel.
John. Oh Sir, undone, ruin’d! Sir Thomas himself is in the Inn; you are discover’d, and here he comes with a hundred and fifty People, to fetch away Madam Dorothea.
Fair. We know it, we know it.
Quix. And were he to bring as many thousand — I’ll shew him one single Knight may be too many for them all.
Fair. Ten thousand Thanks, great Knight; by Heaven’s I’ll die by your Side, before I’ll lose her.
Quix. Now, thou most adorable Princess Dulcinea del Toboso, now shine with all thy Influence upon me.
Sir Tho. [Within] Where is my Daughter, Villains? where is my Daughter?
Quix. Oh, thou cursed Giant Tergilicombo, too well I know thy Voice; have at thee, Caitif.
Dor. Dear Jezebel, I am frighten’d out of my Wits, my Father or Mr. Fairlove will be destroy’d — I am resolv’d I’ll rush into the middle of them, and with my own Danger put an end to the Fray.
Jez. Do so, and in the mean time I’ll into the Closet, and put an end to a small Bottle I have there; I protest I am horribly frighten’d my self.
SCENE XI.
Sancho solus.
There they are at it Pell-mell, who will be knock’d on the Head I know not; I think I’m pretty sure it won’t be Sancho. I have made a shift to escape this Bout, but I shall never get out of this cursed fighting Country again as safe as I came into it. I shall leave some Pounds of poor Sancho behind me; if this be the effect of English Beef and Pudding, would I were in Spain again. I begin to think this House or Castle is chanted; nay, I fansy the Devil lives in it, for we have had nothing but Battles, since we have been here. My Bones are not the Bones they were a Fortnight ago, nor are they in the same Places. As to my Skin the Rainbow is a Fool to it for Colours; it is like — What is it like? Ecod ‘tis like nothing but my Master’s. Well, Master of mine, if you do get the Day you deserve it, I’ll say that for you; and if you are well drub’d, why, you deserve that too. What had we to do with the Princess and be hang’d to her? Besides I verily believe she’s no more a Princess than I am. No good ever comes of minding other Mens Matters. I seldom see any Meat got by winding up another Man’s Jack. I’ll e’en take this Opportunity, and while all the rest are knocking one another on the Head, I’ll into the Pantry and stuff both Guts and Wallet as long as they’ll hold.
SCENE XII.
Sir Thomas, Dorothea.
Sir Tho. See, ungracious Girl, see what your cursed Inclinations have occasion’d!
Dor. I’m sure they are the Cause of my Misery; if Fairlove be destroy’d, I never shall enjoy a Moment’s Quiet more.
Sir Tho. Perhaps it were better for him if he were; I shall handle him in such a Manner, that the rest of his Life shall not be much worth wishing for.
Dor. Thus on my Knees, Sir, I intreat you by all the Tenderness you ever profess’d to me! by all the Joy you have so often said I gave you! by all the Pain I now endure! do not attempt to injure Fairlove. You can inflict no Punishment on him, but I must feel much more than half. Is it not enough to pull me, tear me bleeding from his Heart? Is it not enough to rob my Eyes of what they love more than Light or than themselves? Hinder me from all those Scenes of Bliss, I’d painted to my self? Oh, hear me, Sir, or kill me, and do not make this Life you gave a Curse.
Sir Tho. Away, you’re no Child of mine.
Dor. Wou’d you keep me from him, try to make him happy; that Thought would be some Comfort in his Absence — I might perhaps bear to be no Partaker of his Happiness, but not so of his Sufferings; were he in a Palace, you might keep me wretched alone; but were he in a Prison, not all the Powers on Earth should keep me from him.
SCENE XIII.
Guzzle, Mrs. Guzzle, Constable, Don Quixote, Fairlove, John.
Guz. We have made a shift, an’t please your Worship, to secure this mad Fellow at last; but he has done us more Mischief than ever it will be in his power to make us Reparation for.
Mrs. Guz. Our House is ruin’d for ever, there is not one whole Window in it; the Stage-Coachman swears he’ll never bring a Company to it again. There’s Miss Sneak above in Fits, and Mr. Sneak, poor Man, is crying, and Madam Sneak, she’s a swearing and stamping like a Dragoon.
Sir Tho. Mr. Fairlove, you shall answer for this — As for that poor Fellow there, I suppose you have hired him. Hark’e, Fellow, what did this Gentleman give you to do all this Mischief?
Quix. It is your Time now, and you may use it. I perceive this Adventure is not reserv’d for me, therefore I must submit to the Inchantment.
Sir Tho. Do you banter me, you Rascal?
Quix. Poor Wretch! I scorn to retort thy injurious Words.
Sir Tho. I’ll make you know who I am presently, I will so.
Quix. Dost thou then think I know thee not to be the Giant Tergilicombo? — yet think not because I submit to my Fortune, that I fear thee; No, the time will come, when I shall see thee the Prey of
some more happy Knight.
Sir Tho. I’ll Knight you, you Dog, I will.
Mrs. Guz. Do you hear, Husband? I suppose you won’t doubt whether he be mad any longer or no; he makes no more of his Worship, than if he were talking to a Fidler.
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 317