<h2><SPAN name="chap11"></SPAN>CHAPTER XI</h2>
<p class="letter">
We descry the Waggon—get into it—arrive at an inn—our Fellow
Travellers described—a Mistake is committed by Strap, which produces
strange things</p>
<p>We travelled half-a-mile without exchanging one word; my thoughts being
engrossed by the knavery of the world, to which I must be daily exposed, and
the contemplation of my finances, which began sensibly to diminish. At length,
Strap, who could hold no longer, addressed me thus: “Well, fools and
their money are soon parted. If my advice had been taken, that old skin-flint
should have been d—n’d before he had got more than the third of his
demand. ’Tis a sure sign you came easily by your money, when you squander
it away in this manner. Ah! God help you, how many bristly beards must I have
mowed before I earned four shillings and threepence-halfpenny, which is all
thrown to the dogs! How many days have I sat weaving hair till my toes were
numbed by the cold, my fingers cramped, and my nose as blue as the sign of the
periwig that hung over the door! What the devil was you afraid of? I would have
engaged to box with any one of those fellows who came in for a
guinea—I’m sure—I have beat stouter men than either of
them.” And, indeed, my companion would have fought anybody when his life
was in no danger; but he had a mortal aversion to fire-arms and all instruments
of death. In order to appease him, I assured him no part of this extraordinary
expense should fall upon his shoulders; at which declaration he was affronted,
and told me he would have me to know that, although he was a poor
barber’s boy, yet he had a soul to spend big money with the best squire
of the land.</p>
<p>Having walked all day at a great pace, without halting for a refreshment, we
descried, toward the evening, to our inexpressible joy, the waggon about a
quarter of a mile before us; and, by that time we reached it, were both of us
so weary that I verily believe it would have been impracticable for us to have
walked one mile farther. We, therefore, bargained with the driver, whose name
was Joey, to give us a cast to the next stage for a shilling; at which place we
should meet the master of the waggon, with whom we might agree for the rest of
the journey.</p>
<p>Accordingly the convenience stopped, and Joey having placed the ladder, Strap
(being loaded with our baggage) mounted first; but, just as he was getting in,
a tremendous voice assailed his ears in these words: “God’s fury!
there shall no passengers come here.” The poor shaver was so disconcerted
at this exclamation, which both he and I imagined proceeded from the mouth of a
giant, that he descended with great velocity and a countenance as white as
paper. Joey, perceiving our astonishment, called, with an arch sneer,
“Waunds, coptain, whay woant yau sooffer the poor waggoneer to meake a
penny? Coom, coom, young man, get oop, get oop, never moind the coptain;
I’se not afeard of the coptain.”</p>
<p>This was not encouragement sufficient to Strap, who could not be prevailed upon
to venture up again; upon which I attempted, though not without a quaking
heart, when I heard the same voice muttering, like distant
thunder—“Hell and the devil confound me, if I don’t make you
smart for this!” However, I crept in, and by accident got an empty place
in the straw, which I immediately took possession of, without being able to
discern the faces of my fellow-travellers in the dark. Strap following, with
the knapsack on his back, chanced to take the other side, and, by a jolt of the
carriage, pitched directly upon the stomach of the captain, who bellowed out,
in a most dreadful manner, “Blood and thunder! where’s my
sword?” At these words my frighted comrade started up, and, at one
spring, bounced against me with such force that I thought he was the supposed
son of Anak, who intended to press me to death. In the meantime a female voice
cried, “Bless me! what is the matter, my dear?” “The
matter,” replied the captain, “d—n my blood! my guts are
squeezed into a pancake by that Scotchman’s hump.” Strap, trembling
all the while at my back, asked him pardon, and laid the blame of what had
happened upon the jolting of the waggon; and the woman who spoke before went
on: “Ay, ay, my dear, it is our own fault; we may thank ourselves for all
the inconveniences we meet with. I thank God I never travelled so before. I am
sure if my lady or Sir John were to know where we are they would not sleep this
night for vexation. I wish to God we had writ for the chariot; I know we shall
never be forgiven.” “Come, come, my dear,” replied the
captain, “it don’t signify fretting now; we shall laugh it over as
a frolic; I hope you will not suffer in your health. I shall make my lord very
merry with our adventures in this diligence.”</p>
<p>The discourse gave me such a high notion of the captain and his lady that I
durst not venture to join in the conversation; but immediately after another
female voice began: “Some people give themselves a great many needless
airs; better folks than any here have travelled in waggons before now. Some of
us have rode in coaches and chariots, with three footmen behind them, without
making so much fuss about it. What then? We are now all upon a footing;
therefore let us be sociable and merry. What do you say, Isaac? Is not this a
good motion, you doting rogue? Speak, you old cent per cent fornicator? What
desperate debt are you thinking of? What mortgage are you planning? Well,
Isaac, positively you shall never gain my favour till you turn over a new leaf,
grow honest, and live like a gentleman. In the meantime give me a kiss, you old
fumbler.” These words, accompanied with a hearty smack, enlivened the
person to whom they were addressed to such a degree that he cried, in
transport, though with a faltering voice, “Ah! you wanton
baggage—upon my credit, you are a waggish girl—he, he, he!”
This laugh introduced a fit of coughing, which almost suffocated the poor
usurer (such we afterwards found was the profession of this our
fellow-traveller).</p>
<p>About this time I fell asleep, and enjoyed a comfortable nap till such time as
we arrived at the inn where we put up. Here, having alighted from the waggon, I
had an opportunity of viewing the passengers in order as they entered. The
first who appeared was a brisk, airy girl, about twenty years old, with a
silver-laced hat on her head instead of a cap, a blue stuff riding-suit,
trimmed with silver very much tarnished, and a whip in her hand. After her
came, limping, an old man, with a worsted nightcap buttoned under his chin, and
a broad-brimmed hat slouched over it, an old rusty blue cloak tied about his
neck, under which appeared a brown surtout, that covered a threadbare coat and
waistcoat, and, as he afterwards discerned, a dirty flannel jacket. His eyes
were hollow, bleared, and gummy; his face was shrivelled into a thousand
wrinkles, his gums were destitute of teeth, his nose sharp and drooping, his
chin peaked and prominent, so that, when he mumped or spoke, they approached
one another like a pair of nutcrackers: he supported himself on an ivory-headed
cane and his whole figure was a just emblem of winter, famine, and avarice. But
how was I surprised, when I beheld the formidable captain in the shape of a
little thin creature, about the age of forty, with a long withered visage, very
much resembling that of a baboon, through the upper part of which two little
gray eyes peeped: he wore his own hair in a queue that reached to his rump,
which immoderate length, I suppose, was the occasion of a baldness that
appeared on the crown of his head when he deigned to take off his hat, which
was very much of the size and cock of Pistol’s.</p>
<p>Having laid aside his great-coat, I could not help admiring the extraordinary
make of this man of war: he was about five feet and three inches high, sixteen
inches of which went to his face and long scraggy neck: his thighs were about
six inches in length, his legs resembling spindles or drumsticks, five feet and
a half, and his body, which put me in mind of extension without substance,
engrossed the remainder: so that on the whole, he appeared like a spider or
grasshopper erect, and was almost a vox et praeterea nihil. His dress consisted
of a frock of what is called bearskin, the skirts of which were about half a
foot long, an hussar waistcoat, scarlet breeches reaching half way down his
thighs, worsted stockings rolled up almost to his groin, and shoes with wooden
heels at least two inches high; he carried a sword very near as long as himself
in one hand, and with the other conducted his lady, who seemed to be a woman of
his own age, and still retained some remains of an agreeable person, but so
ridiculously affected, that, had I not been a novice in the world, I might have
easily perceived in her the deplorable vanity and second-hand airs of a
lady’s woman.</p>
<p>We were all assembled in the kitchen, when Captain Weazel (for that was his
name) desired a room with a fire for himself and spouse, and told the landlord
they would up by themselves. The innkeeper replied that he could not afford
them a room by themselves; and as for supping, he had prepared victuals for the
passengers in the waggon, without respect of persons, but if he could prevail
on the rest to let him have his choice in a separate manner, he should be very
well pleased. This was no sooner said than all of us declared against the
proposal, and Miss Jenny (our other female passenger), observed that, if
Captain Weazel and his lady had a mind to sup by themselves, they might wait
until we should have done. At this hint the captain put on a martial frown, and
looked very big, without speaking; while his yokefellow, with a disdainful toss
of her nose, muttered something about “Creature!” which Miss Jenny
overhearing, stepped up to her, saying, “None of your names, good Mrs.
Abigail. Creature, quotha—I’ll assure you no such creature as you
neither—no ten-pound sneaker—no quality-coupler.” Here the
captain interposed, with a “D—e, madam, what do you mean by
that?” “D—n you sir, who are you?” replied Miss Jenny,
“who made you a captain, you pitiful, trencher-scraping, pimping curler?
’Sdeath! the army is come to a fine pass, when such fellows as you get
commissions. What, I suppose you think I don’t know you? Egad, you and
your helpmate are well met—a cast-off mistress and a bald
valet-de-chambre are well yoked together.” “Blood and
wounds!” cried Weazel, “d’ye question the honour of my wife,
madam? Hell and d-ion! No man in England durst say so much—I would flay
him, carbonado him! Fury and destruction! I would have his liver for my
supper.” So saying, he drew his sword and flourished with it, to the
great terror of Strap; while Miss Jenny, snapping her fingers, told him she did
not value his resentment a louse.</p>
<p>In the midst of this quarrel the master of the waggon alighted, who,
understanding the cause of the disturbance, and fearing the captain and his
lady would take umbrage and leave his carriage, was at great pains to have
everything made up, which he at last accomplished, and we sat down to supper
altogether. At bedtime we were shown to our apartments; the old usurer, Strap,
and I, to one room; the captain, his wife, and Miss Jenny, to another. About
midnight, my companion’s bowels being disordered, he got up, in order to
go backward, but in his return, mistaking one door for another, entered
Weazel’s chamber, and without any hesitation went to bed to his wife, who
was fast asleep, the captain being at another end of the room groping for some
empty vessel, in lieu of his own chamberpot, which was leaky: as he did not
perceive Strap coming in, he went towards his own bed, after having found a
convenience; but no sooner did he feel a rough head, covered with a cotton
nightcap, than it came into his mind that he had mistaken Miss Jenny’s
bed instead of his own, and that the head he felt was that of some gallant,
with whom she had made an assignation. Full of his conjecture, and scandalised
at the prostitution of his apartment, he snatched up the vessel he had just
before filled, and emptied it at once on the astonished barber and his own
wife, who waking at that instant, broke forth into lamentable cries, which not
only alarmed the husband beyond measure, but frighted poor Strap almost out of
his senses; for he verily believed himself bewitched, especially when the
incensed captain seized him by the throat, with a volley of oaths, asking him
how he durst have the presumption to attempt the chastity of his wife. Poor
Strap was so amazed and confounded, that he could say nothing
but—“I take God to witness she’s a virgin for me.”</p>
<p>Mrs. Weazel, enraged to find herself in such a pickle through the precipitation
of her husband, arose in her shift, and with the heel of her shoe which she
found by the bedside, belaboured the captain’s bald pate till he roared
“Murder.” “I’ll teach you to empty your stinkpots on
me,” cried she, “you pitiful hop-o’-my-thumb coxcomb. What, I
warrant you’re jealous, you man of lath. Was it for this I condescended
to take you to my bed, you poor, withered, sapless twig?”</p>
<p>The noise occasioned by this adventure had brought the master of the waggon and
me to the door, where we overheard all that passed with great satisfaction. In
the meantime we were alarmed with the cry of “Rape! Murder! Rape!”
which Jenny pronounced with great vociferation. “Oh! You vile abominable
old villain,” said she, “would you rob me of my virtue? But
I’ll be revenged of you, you old goat! I will! Help! for heaven’s
sake! help! I shall be ravished! ruined! help!” Some servants of the inn,
hearing this cry, came running upstairs with lights, and such weapons as chance
afforded; when we beheld a very diverting scene. In one corner stood the poor
captain shivering in his shirt, which was all torn to rags: with a woeful
visage, scratched all over by his wife, who had by this time wrapped the
counterpane about her, and sat sobbing on the side of her bed. At the other end
lay the old usurer, sprawling on Miss Jenny’s bed, with his flannel
jacket over his shirt, and his tawny meagre limbs exposed to the air; while she
held him fast by the two ears, and loaded him with execrations. When he asked
what was the matter, she affected to weep, told us she was afraid that wicked
rogue had ruined her in her sleep, and bade us take notice of what we saw, for
she intended to make use of our evidence against him. The poor wretch looked
like one more dead than alive, and begged to be released; a favour which he had
no sooner obtained than he protested she was no woman, but a devil
incarnate—that she had first seduced his flesh to rebel, and then
betrayed him. “Yes, cockatrice,” continued he, “you know you
laid this snare for me—but you shan’t succeed—for I will hang
myself before you shall get a farthing of me.” So saying, he crawled to
his own bed, groaning all the way. We then advanced to the Captain, who told
us, “Gentlemen, here has been a d—d mistake; but I’ll be
revenged on him who was the cause of it. That Scotchman who carries the
knapsack shall not breathe this vital air another day, if my name be Weazel. My
dear, I ask you ten thousand pardons; you are sensible, I could mean no harm to
you.” “I know not what you meant,” replied she, sighing,
“but I know I have got enough to send me to my grave.” At length
they were reconciled. The wife was complimented with a share of Miss
Jenny’s bed (her own being overflowed), and the master of the waggon
invited Weazel to sleep the remaining part of the night with him. I retired to
mine, where I found Strap mortally afraid, he having stolen away in the dark
while the captain and his lady were at loggerheads.</p>
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