CHAPTER SIXTEEN
WHICH, IT IS TO BE HOPED, THE READER WILL FIND AN AGREEABLE MEDLEY OFMIRTH AND MADNESS, SENSE AND ABSURDITY.
It was not without reason that our adventurer afflicted himself; hisfears were but too prophetic. When he alighted at the inn, which he hadleft so abruptly the preceding evening, he ran directly to the apartmentwhere he had been so happy in Aurelia's company; but her he saw not--allwas solitary. Turning to the woman of the house, who had followed himinto the room, "Where is the lady?" cried he, in a tone of impatience.Mine hostess screwing up her features into a very demure aspect, said shesaw so many ladies she could not pretend to know who he meant. "I tellthee, woman," exclaimed the knight, in a louder accent, "thou neversawest such another--I mean that miracle of beauty"--"Very like," repliedthe dame, as she retired to the room door. "Husband, here's one as axesconcerning a miracle of beauty; hi, hi, hi. Can you give him anyinformation about this miracle of beauty? O la! hi, hi, hi."
Instead of answering this question, the innkeeper advancing, andsurveying Sir Launcelot, "Friend," said he, "you are the person thatcarried off my horse out of the stable."--"Tell me not of a horse--whereis the young lady?"--"Now, I will tell you of the horse, and I'll makeyou find him too before you and I part."--"Wretched animal! how dar'stthou dally with my impatience? Speak, or despair--what is become of MissMeadows? Say, did she leave this place of her own accord, or was she--hah! speak--answer, or by the powers above"--"I'll answer you flat--sheyou call Miss Meadows is in very good hands--so you may make yourselfeasy on that score."--"Sacred Heaven! explain your meaning, miscreant, orI'll make you a dreadful example to all the insolent publicans of therealm." So saying, he seized him with one hand and dashed him on thefloor, set one foot on his belly, and kept him trembling in thatprostrate attitude. The ostler and waiter flying to the assistance oftheir master, our adventurer unsheathed his sword, declaring he woulddismiss their souls from their bodies, and exterminate the whole familyfrom the face of the earth, if they would not immediately give him thesatisfaction he required.
The hostess being by this time terrified almost out of her senses, fellon her knees before him, begging he would spare their lives, andpromising to declare the whole truth. He would not, however, remove hisfoot from the body of her husband until she told him, that in less thanhalf an hour after he had sallied out upon the supposed robbers, twochaises arrived, each drawn by four horses; that two men, armed withpistols, alighted from one of them, laid violent hands upon the younglady; and, notwithstanding her struggling and shrieking, forced her intothe other carriage, in which was an infirm gentleman, who called himselfher guardian; that the maid was left to the care of a third servant, tofollow with a third chaise, which was got ready with all possibledespatch, while the other two proceeded at full speed on the road toLondon. It was by this communicative lacquey the people of the housewere informed that the old gentleman his master was Squire Darnel, theyoung lady his niece and ward, and our adventurer a needy sharper whowanted to make a prey of her fortune.
The knight, fired even almost to frenzy by this intimation, spurned thecarcase of his host; and, his eye gleaming terror, rushed into the yard,in order to mount Bronzomarte and pursue the ravisher, when he wasdiverted from his purpose by a new incident.
One of the postillions, who had driven the chaise in which Dolly wasconveyed, happened to arrive at that instant; when, seeing our hero, heran up to him cap in hand, and, presenting a letter, accosted him inthese words: "Please your noble honour, if your honour be Sir LauncelotGreaves of the West Riding, here's a letter from a gentlewoman, that Ipromised to deliver into your honour's own hands."
The knight, snatching the letter with the utmost avidity, broke it up,and found the contents couched in these terms:--
"HONOURED SIR,--The man az gi'en me leave to lat yaw knaw my dear leadyis going to Loondon with her unkle Squaire Darnel. Be not conzarned,honoured sir, vor I'se take it on mai laife to let yaw knaw wheare we bezettled, if zobe I can vind where you loadge in Loondon. The man zaysyaw may put it in the pooblic prints. I houp the bareheir will be honestenuff to deliver this scrowl; and that your honour will pardonYour umbil servant to command, DOROTHY COWSLIP."
"P. S.--Please my kaind sarvice to laayer Clarke. Squire Darnel's man isvery civil vor sartain; but I'ave no thoughts on him I'll assure yaw.Marry hap, worse ware may have a better chap, as the zaying goes."
Nothing could be more seasonable than the delivery of this billet, whichhe had no sooner perused than his reflection returned, and he enteredinto a serious deliberation with his own heart. He considered thatAurelia was by this time far beyond a possibility of being overtaken, andthat by a precipitate pursuit he should only expose his own infirmities.He confided in the attachment of his mistress, and in the fidelity of hermaid, who would find opportunities of communicating her sentiments bymeans of this lacquey, of whom he perceived by the letter she had alreadymade a conquest. He therefore resolved to bridle his impatience, toproceed leisurely to London, and, instead of taking any rash step whichmight induce Anthony Darnel to remove his niece from that city, remain inseeming quiet until she should be settled, and her guardian returned tothe country. Aurelia had mentioned to him the name of Doctor Kawdle, andfrom him he expected in due time to receive the most interestinginformation formerly tormented with the pangs of despairing love, whichhad actually unsettled his understanding, he was now happily convincedthat he had inspired the tender breast of Aurelia with mutual affection;and, though she was invidiously snatched from his embrace in the midst ofsuch endearments as had wound up his soul to ecstasy and transport, hedid not doubt of being able to rescue her from the power of an inhumankinsman, whose guardianship would soon of course expire; and in themeantime he rested with the most perfect dependence on her constancy andvirtue.
As he next day crossed the country, ruminating on the disaster that hadbefallen his squire, and could now compare circumstances coolly, heeasily comprehended the whole scheme of that adventure, which was noother than an artifice of Anthony Darnel and his emissaries to draw himfrom the inn, where he proposed to execute his design upon the innocentAurelia. He took it for granted that the uncle, having been madeacquainted with his niece's elopement, had followed her track by the helpof such information as he received, from one stage to another; and that,receiving more particulars at the White Hart touching Sir Launcelot, hehad formed the scheme in which Crabshaw was an involuntary instrumenttowards the seduction of his master.
Amusing himself with these and other cogitations, our hero in theafternoon reached the place of his destination, and, entering the innwhere Timothy had been left at sick quarters, chanced to meet theapothecary retiring precipitately in a very unsavoury pickle from thechamber of his patient. When he inquired about the health of his squire,this retainer to medicine, wiping himself all the while with a napkin,answered in manifest confusion, that he apprehended him to be in a verydangerous way from an inflammation of the piamater, which had produced amost furious delirium. Then he proceeded to explain, in technical terms,the method of cure he had followed; and concluded with telling him thepoor squire's brain was so outrageously disordered, that he had rejectedall administration, and just thrown an urinal in his face.
The knight's humanity being alarmed at this intelligence, he resolvedthat Crabshaw should have the benefit of further advice, and asked ifthere was not a physician in the place? The apothecary, after someinterjections of hesitation, owned there was a doctor in the village, anodd sort of a humourist; but he believed he had not much to do in the wayof his profession, and was not much used to the forms of prescription.He was counted a scholar, to be sure, but as to his medical capacity--hewould not take upon him to say. "No matter," cried Sir Launcelot, "hemay strike out some lucky thought for the benefit of the patient, and Idesire you will call him instantly."
While the apothecary was absent on this service, our adventurer took itin his head to question the landlord about the character of th
isphysician, which had been so unfavourably represented, and received thefollowing information:--
"For my peart, measter, I knows nothing amiss of the doctor--he's a quietsort of an inoffensive man; uses my house sometimes, and pays for what hehas, like the rest of my customers. They says he deals very little inphysic stuff, but cures his patients with fasting and water-gruel,whereby he can't expect the 'pothecary to be his friend. You knows,master, one must live, and let live, as the saying is. I must say, he,for the value of three guineas, set up my wife's constitution in such amanner, that I have saved within these two years, I believe, forty poundsin 'pothecary's bills. But what of that? Every man must eat, thof atanother's expense; and I should be in a deadly hole myself if all mycustomers should take it in their heads to drink nothing but water-gruel,because it is good for the constitution. Thank God, I have as good aconstitution as e'er a man in England, but for all that, I and my wholefamily bleed and purge, and take a diet-drink twice a year, by way ofserving the 'pothecary, who is a very honest man, and a very goodneighbour."
Their conversation was interrupted by the return of the apothecary withthe doctor, who had very little of the faculty in his appearance. He wasdressed remarkably plain; seemed to be turned of fifty; had a carelessair, and a sarcastical turn in his countenance. Before he entered thesick man's chamber, he asked some questions concerning the disease; andwhen the apothecary, pointing to his own head, said, "It lies all here,"the doctor, turning to Sir Launcelot, replied, "If that be all there'snothing in it."
Upon a more particular inquiry about the symptoms, he was told that theblood was seemingly viscous, and salt upon the tongue; the urineremarkably acrosaline; and the faeces atrabilious and foetid. When thedoctor said he would engage to find the same phenomena in every healthyman of the three kingdoms, the apothecary added, that the patient wasmanifestly comatous, and moreover afflicted with griping pains andborborygmata. "A f--t for your borborygmata," cried the physician; "whathas been done?" To this question, he replied, that venesection had beenthree times performed; that a vesicatory had been applied inter scapulas;that the patient had taken occasionally of a cathartic apozem, andbetween whiles, alexipharmic boluses and neutral draughts.--"Neutral,indeed," said the doctor; "so neutral, that I'll be crucified if everthey declare either for the patient or the disease." So saying, hebrushed into Crabshaw's chamber, followed by our adventurer, who wasalmost suffocated at his first entrance. The day was close; thewindow-shutters were fastened; a huge fire blazed in the chimney; thickharateen curtains were close drawn round the bed, where the wretchedsquire lay extended under an enormous load of blankets. The nurse, whohad all the exteriors of a bawd given to drink, sat stewing in thisapartment like a damned soul in some infernal bagnio; but rising whenthe company entered, made her curtsies with great decorum.--"Well," saidthe doctor, "how does your patient, nurse?"--"Blessed be God for it, Ihope in a fair way. To be sure his apozem has had a blessed effect--five-and-twenty stools since three o'clock in the morning. But then,a'would not suffer the blisters to be put upon his thighs. Good lack!a'has been mortally obstropolous, and out of his senses all this blessedday."--"You lie," cried the squire, "I an't out of my seven senses, thofI'm half mad with vexation."
The doctor having withdrawn the curtain, the hapless squire appeared verypale and ghastly; and having surveyed his master with a rueful aspect,addressed him in these words: "Sir Knight, I beg a boon. Be pleased totie a stone about the neck of the apothecary, and a halter about the neckof the nurse, and throw the one into the next river, and the other overthe next tree, and in so doing you will do a charitable deed to yourfellow-creatures; for he and she do the devil's work in partnership, andhave sent many a score of their betters home to him before their time."--"Oh, he begins to talk sensibly."--"Have a good heart," said thephysician. "What is your disorder?"--"Physic."--"What do you chieflycomplain of?"--"The doctor."--"Does your head ache?"--"Yea, withimpertinence." "Have you a pain in your back?"--"Yes, where the blisterlies."--"Are you sick at stomach?"--"Yes, with hunger."--"Do you feel anyshiverings?"--"Always at sight of the apothecary."--"Do you perceive anyload in your bowels?"--"I would the apothecary's conscience was asclear."--"Are you thirsty?"--"Not thirsty enough to drink barley-water."--"Be pleased to look into his fauces," said the apothecary; "he has gota rough tongue, and a very foul mouth, I'll assure you."--"I have knownthat the case with some limbs of the faculty, where they stood more inneed of correction than of physic.--Well, my honest friend, since youhave already undergone the proper purgations in due form, and say youhave no other disease than the doctor, we will set you on your legs againwithout further question. Here, nurse, open that window, and throw thesephials into the street. Now lower the curtain, without shutting thecasement, that the man may not be stifled in his own steam. In the nextplace, take off two-thirds of these coals, and one-third of theseblankets.--How dost feel now, my heart?" "I should feel heart-whole, ifso be as yow would throw the noorse a'ter the bottles, and the 'pothecarya'ter the noorse, and oorder me a pound of chops for my dinner, for I beso hoongry, I could eat a horse behind the saddle."
The apothecary, seeing what passed, retired of his own accord, holding uphis hands in sign of astonishment. The nurse was dismissed in the samebreath. Crabshaw rose, dressed himself without assistance, and made ahearty meal on the first eatable that presented itself to view. Theknight passed the evening with the physician, who, from his firstappearance, concluded he was mad; but, in the course of the conversation,found means to resign that opinion without adopting any other in lieu ofit, and parted with him under all the impatience of curiosity. Theknight, on his part, was very well entertained with the witty sarcasmsand erudition of the doctor, who appeared to be a sort of cynicphilosopher tinctured with misanthropy, and at open war with the wholebody of apothecaries, whom however it was by no means his interest todisoblige.
Next day, Crabshaw, being to all appearance perfectly recovered, ouradventurer reckoned with the apothecary, paid the landlord, and set outon his return for the London road, resolving to lay aside his armour atsome distance from the metropolis; for, ever since his interview withAurelia, his fondness for chivalry had been gradually abating. As thetorrent of his despair had disordered the current of his soberreflection, so now, as that despair subsided, his thoughts began to flowdeliberately in their ancient channel. All day long he regaled hisimagination with plans of connubial happiness, formed on the possessionof the incomparable Aurelia; determined to wait with patience, until thelaw should supersede the authority of her guardian, rather than adopt anyviolent expedient which might hazard the interest of his passion.
He had for some time travelled in the turnpike road, when his reverie wassuddenly interrupted by a confused noise; and when he lifted up his eyeshe beheld at a little distance a rabble of men and women, variously armedwith flails, pitchforks, poles, and muskets, acting offensively against astrange figure on horseback, who, with a kind of lance, laid about himwith incredible fury. Our adventurer was not so totally abandoned by thespirit of chivalry, to see without emotion a single knight in danger ofbeing overpowered by such a multitude of adversaries. Without staying toput on his helmet, he ordered Crabshaw to follow him in the chargeagainst those plebeians. Then couching his lance, and giving Bronzomartethe spur, he began his career with such impetuosity as overturned allthat happened to be in his way; and intimidated the rabble to such adegree, that they retired before him like a flock of sheep, the greaterpart of them believing he was the devil in propria persona. He came inthe very nick of time to save the life of the other errant, against whomthree loaded muskets were actually levelled, at the very instant that ouradventurer began his charge. The unknown knight was so sensible of theseasonable interposition, that, riding up to our hero, "Brother," saidhe, "this is the second time you have holp me off, when I was bumpashore.--Bess Mizzen, I must say, is no more than a leaky bum-boat, incomparison of the glorious galley you want to man. I desire thathenceforth we may cruise in the same lati
tudes, brother; and I'll bed--ned if I don't stand by you as long as I have a stick standing, or cancarry a rag of canvas."
By this address our knight recognised the novice Captain Crowe, who hadfound means to accommodate himself with a very strange suit of armour.By way of helmet, he wore one of the caps used by the light horse, withstraps buckled under his chin, and contrived in such a manner as toconceal his whole visage, except the eyes. Instead of cuirass, mail,greaves, and other pieces of complete armour, he was cased in apostillion's leathern jerkin, covered with thin plates of tinned iron.His buckler was a potlid, his lance a hop-pole shod with iron, and abasket-hilt broadsword, like that of Hudibras, depended by a broad buffbelt, that girded his middle. His feet were defended by jack-boots, andhis hands by the gloves of a trooper. Sir Launcelot would not lose timein examining particulars, as he perceived some mischief had been done,and that the enemy had rallied at a distance; he therefore commandedCrowe to follow him, and rode off with great expedition; but he did notperceive his squire was taken prisoner; nor did the captain recollectthat his nephew, Tom Clarke, had been disabled and secured in thebeginning of the fray. The truth is, the poor captain had been sobelaboured about the pate, that it was a wonder he remembered his ownname.