hand. To say the truth, she had con- | Slipslop. 'Yes, indeed, you are,' cries my ceived a suspicion at her last interview lady, and unless you mend your manners, with her mistress, and had waited ever this house is no place for you.' 'Mansince in the antechamber, having carefully applied her ears to the key-hole during the whole time that the preceding conversation passed between Joseph and the lady.

CHAPTER IX.

What passed between the lady and Mrs. Slipslop, in which we prophesy there are some strokes which every one will not truly comprehend at the first reading.

ners!' cries Slipslop, 'I never was thought to want manners nor modesty neither; and for places, there are more places than one, and I know what I know.' 'What do you know, mistress?' answered the lady. I am not obliged to tell that to every body,' says Slipslop, any more than I am obliged to keep it a secret.' 'I desire you would provide yourself,' answered the lady. With all my heart,' replied the waiting gentlewoman; and so departed in a passion, and slapped the door after her.

The lady too plainly perceived that her waiting gentlewoman knew more than she would willingly have had her acquainted with; and this she imputed to Joseph's having discovered to her what past at the first interview. This, therefore, blew up her rage against him, and confirmed her in a resolution of parting with him.

But the dismissing Mrs. Slipslop was a point not so easily to be resolved upon; she had the utmost tenderness for her reputation, as she knew on that depended many of the most valuable blessings of life; particularly cards, making curt'sies in public places, and, above all, the pleasure of demolishing the reputation of others, in which innocent amusement she had an extraordinary delight. She therefore determined to submit to any insult from a servant rather than run a risk of losing the title to so many great privi

'SLIPSLOP,' said the lady, 'I find too much reason to believe all thou hast told me of this wicked Joseph; I have determined to part with him instantly; so go you to the steward, and bid him pay him his wages.' Slipslop, who had preserved hitherto a distence to her lady, rather out of necessity than inclination, and who thought the knowledge of this secret had thrown down all distinction between them, answered her mistress very pertly, She wished she knew her own mind, and that she was certain she would call her back again before she was got half way down stairs.' The lady replied, 'she had taken a resolution, and was resolved to keep it.' 'I am sorry for it,' cries Slipslop; and if I had known you would have punished the poor lad so severely, you should never have heard a particle of the matter. Here's a fuss indeed about nothing.' 'Nothing!' returned the lady; 'Do you think I will counte-leges. nance lewdness in my house?' 'If you will turn away every footman,' said Slipslop, that is a lover of the sport, you must soon open the coach-door yourself, or get a set of mephrodites to wait upon you; and I am sure I hated the sight of them singing even in an opera.' 'Do as I bid you,' says my lady, and don't shock my ears with your beastly language.' 'Marry-come-up,' cries Slipslop, 'people's ears are sometimes the nicest part about them.

She therefore sent for her steward, Mr, Peter Pounce, and ordered him to pay Joseph his wages, to strip off his livery, and turn him out of the doors that evening.

She then called Slipslop up, and after refreshing her spirits with a small cordial which she kept in her closet, she began in the following manner:

'Slipslop, why will you, who know my passionate temper, attempt to provoke me by your answers? I am convinced you are an honest servant, and should be very unThe lady, who began to admire the willing to part with you. I believe, likenew style in which her waiting gentle-wise, you have found me an indulgent woman delivered herself, and by the con- mistress on many occasions, and have clusion of her speech suspected somewhat as little reason on your side to desire a of the truth, called her back, and desired change. I can't help being surprised, to know what she meant by the extraor- therefore, that you will take the surest dinary degree of freedom in which she method to offend me: I mean, repeating thought proper to indulge her tongue. my words, which you know I have always 'Freedom!' says Slipslop, 'I don't know detested.' what you call freedom, madam; servants The prudent waiting gentlewoman had have tongues, as well as their mistresses.' duly weighed the whole matter, and found, 'Yes, and saucy ones too,' answered the on mature deliberation, that a good place lady: but I assure you I shall hear no in possession was better than one in exsuch impertinence.' 'Impertinence! Ipectation. As she found her mistress don't know that I am impertinent,' says therefore inclined to relent, she thought

proper also to put on some small conde- | has you, till at last all becomes one scene scension, which was as readily accepted; of confusion in the tortured minds of the and so the affair was reconciled, all offences forgiven, and a present of a gown and petticoat made her, as an instance of her lady's future favour.

hearers; equal wagers are laid on the success, and neither judge nor jury can possibly make any thing of the matter; all things are so enveloped by the careful serjeants in doubt and obscurity.

She offered once or twice to speak in favour of Joseph; but found her lady's heart Ör as it happens in the conscience, so obdurate, that she prudently dropt all where Honour and Honesty pull one way, such efforts. She considered there were and a Bribe and Necessity another.-If it more footmen in the house, and some as was our present business only to make stout fellows, though not quite so hand-similes, we could produce many more to some, as Joseph; besides, the reader hath this purpose: but a simile (as well as a already seen her tender advances had not word) to the wise. We shall therefore met with that encouragement she might see a little after our hero, for whom the have reasonably expected. She thought reader is, doubtless, in some pain. she had thrown away a great deal of sack and sweetmeats on an ungrateful rascal; and being a little inclined to the opinion of that female sect who hold one lusty young fellow to be near as good as another lusty young fellow, she at last gave up Joseph and his cause, and, with a triumph over her passion, highly commendable, walked off with her present, and with great tranquillity paid a visit to a stone-bottle, which is of sovereign use to a philosophical tem

But what hurt her most was, that in reality she had not so entirely conquered her passion; the little god lay lurking in her heart, though anger and disdain so hoodwinked her, that she could not see him. She was a thousand times on the brink of revoking the sentence she had passed against the poor youth. Love became his advocate, and whispered many things in his favour. Honour likewise endeavoured to vindicate his crime, and Pity to mitigate his punishment; on the other side, Pride and Revenge spoke as loudly against him; and thus the poor lady was tortured with perplexity, opposite passions distracting and tearing her mind different ways. So have I seen in the hall of Westminster, where Serjeant Bramble hath been detained on the right side, and Serjeant Puzzle on the left, the balance of opinion (so equal were their fees) alternately incline to either scale. Now Bramble throws in an argument, and Puzzle's scale strikes the beam; and again, Bramble shares the like fate, overpowered by the weight of Puzzle. Here Bramble hits, there Puzzle strikes; here one has you, there t'other

CHAPTER X.

Joseph writes another letter: His transactions with
Mr. Peter Pounce, &c. with his departure from
Lady Booby.

THE disconsolate Joseph would not have had an understanding sufficient for the principal subject of such a book as this, if he had any longer misunderstood the drift of his mistress; and indeed, that he did not discern it sooner, the reader will be pleased to impute to an unwillingness in him to discover what he must condemn in her as a fault. Having therefore quitted her presence, he retired into his own garret, and entered himself into an ejaculation on the numberless calamities which attended beauty, and the misfortune it was to be handsomer than one's neighbours.

He then sat down and addressed himself to his sister Pamela, in the following words:

'Dear sister Pamela-Hoping you are well, what news have I to tell you! O Pamela! my mistress has fallen in love with me-that is, what great folks call falling in love, she has a mind to ruin me; but I hope I shall have more resolution and more grace than to part with my virtue to any lady upon earth.

Mr. Adams hath often told me, that chastity is as great a virtue in a man as in a woman. He says he never knew any more than his wife, and I shall endeavour to follow his example. Indeed, it is owing entirely to his excellent sermons and advice, together with your letters, that I have been able to resist a temptation, which, he says, no man complies with, but he repents in this world, or is damned for it in the next; and why should I trust to repentance on my death bed, since I may die in my sleep? What fine things are good advice and good examples! But I am glad she turned me out of the chamber as she

did; for I had once almost forgotten every | of a simple book. Instead of applying this word Parson Adams had ever said to me. to any particular performance, we choose 'I don't doubt, dear sister, but you will rather to remark the contrary in this hishave grace to preserve your virtue against tory, where the scene opens itself by small all trials; and I beg you earnestly to pray degrees; and he is a sagacious reader who I may be enabled to preserve mine; for can see two chapters before him. truly it is very severely attacked by more than one; but I hope I shall copy your example, and that of Joseph my namesake, and maintain my virtue against all temptations.'

For this reason, we have not hitherto hinted a matter which now seems necessary to be explained, since it may be wondered at, first, that Joseph made such extraordinary haste out of town, which hath been already shown; and secondly, which will be now shown, that, instead of proceeding to the habitation of his father and mother, or to his beloved sister Pamela, he chose rather to set out full speed to the Lady Booby's country-seat, which he had left on his journey to London.

had been discarded by Mrs. Slipslop, on account of her extraordinary beauty: for I never could find any other reason.

Joseph had not finished his letter, when he was summoned down stairs by Mr. Peter Pounce, to receive his wages; for, besides that out of eight pounds a year he allowed his father and mother four, he had been obliged, in order to furnish himself with musical instruments, to apply to the Be it known, then, that in the same pagenerosity of the aforesaid Peter, who, on rish where this seat stood, there lived a urgent occasions, used to advance the ser- young girl whom Joseph, (though the best vants their wages: not before they were of sons and brothers,) longed more impadue, but before they were payable; that tiently to see than his parents or sister. is, perhaps, half a year after they were due; She was a poor girl, who had formerly and this at the moderate premium of fifty been bred up in Sir John's family; whence per cent. or a little more by which chari-a little before the journey to London, she table methods, together with lending money to other people, and even to his own master and mistress, the honest man had, from nothing, in a few years amassed a small This young creature, (who now lived sum of twenty thousand pounds or there- with a farmer in the parish,) had been alabouts. ways beloved by Joseph, and returned his Joseph having received his little remain-affection. She was two years only younger der of wages, and having stript off his live-than our hero. They had been acquainted ry, was forced to borrow a frock and breech- from their infancy, and had conceived a es of one of the servants, (for he was so very early liking for each other; which beloved in the family, that they would have had grown to such a degree of affection, all lent him any thing:) and being told by that Mr. Adams had with much ado prePeter, that he must not stay a moment vented them from marrying, and persuadlonger in the house than was necessary to ed them to wait till a few years' service pack up his linen, which he easily did in a and thrift had a little improved their expevery narrow compass, he took a melan-rience, and enabled them to live comfortacholy leave of his fellow-servants, and set bly together. out at seven in the evening.

their good entirely at heart, so they consulted him on every occasion, and very seldom acted contrary to his opinion.

They followed this good man's advice, He had proceeded the length of two or as indeed his word was little less than a three streets, before he absolutely deter-law in his parish; for as he had shown mined with himself whether he should leave his parishioners, by an uniform behaviour the town that night, or, procuring a lodg-of thirty-five years' duration, that he had ing, wait till the morning. At last, the moon shining very bright helped him to came to a resolution of beginning his journey immediately, to which likewise he had some other inducements; which the reader, without being a conjurer, cannot possibly guess, till we have given him those hints which it may be now proper to open.

CHAPTER XI.

Of several new matters not expected. It is an observation sometimes made, that to indicate our idea of a simple fellow, we say he is easily to be seen through: nor do I believe it a more improper denotation

Nothing can be imagined more tender than was the parting between these two lovers. A thousand sighs heaved the bosom of Joseph, a thousand tears distilled from the lovely eyes of Fanny, (for that was her name.) Though her modesty would only suffer her to admit his eager kisses, her violent love made her more than passive in his embraces; and she often pulled him to her breast with a soft pressure, which, though perhaps it would not have squeezed an insect to death, caused more emotion in the heart of Joseph, than the closest Cornish hug could have done.

The reader may perhaps wonder, that so | farther down into the country to meet his fond a pair should, during twelve months' master; these he put into the stable, and absence, never converse with one another: came and took his place by Joseph's side, indeed, there was but one reason which who immediately knew him to be the serdid, or could, have prevented them; and vant of a neighbouring gentleman, who this was, that poor Fanny could neither used to visit at their house. write nor read; nor could she be prevailed This fellow was likewise forced in by the upon to transmit the delicacies of her ten-storm; for he had orders to go twenty der and chaste passion by the hands of an miles farther that evening, and luckily on the same road which Joseph himself intended to take. He therefore embraced this opportunity of complimenting his friend with his master's horse, (notwithstanding he had received express commands to the contrary,) which was readily accepted; and so, after they had drank a loving pot, and the storm was over, they set out together.

amanuensis.

They contented themselves therefore with frequent inquiries after each other's health, with a mutual confidence in each other's fidelity, and the prospect of their future happiness.

Having explained these matters to our reader, and, as far as possible, satisfied all his doubts, we return to honest Joseph, whom we left just set out on his travels by the light of the moon.

Those who have read any romance or poetry ancient or modern, must have been

CHAPTER XII.

informed that Love hath wings; by which | Containing many surprising adventures which

Joseph Andrews met with on the road, scarce credible to those who have never travelled in a stage-coach.

they are not to understand, as some young ladies by mistake have done, that a lover can fly; the writers, by this ingenious allegory, intending to insinuate no more, NOTHING remarkable happened on the than that lovers do not march like horse-road, till their arrival at the inn to which guards; in short, that they put the best the horses were ordered; whither they leg foremost; which our lusty youth, who came about two in the morning. The moon could walk with any man, did so heartily then shone very bright; and Joseph, maon this occasion, that within four hours he king his friend a present of a pint of wine, reached a famous house of hospitality well and thanking him for the favour of his known to the western traveller. It pre- horse, notwithstanding all entreaties to the sents you a lion on the sign-post: and the contrary, proceeded on his journey on foot. master, who was christened Timotheus, is commonly called plain Tim. Some have conceived that he hath particularly chosen the lion for his sign, as he doth in countenance greatly resemble that magnanimous beast, though his disposition savours more of the sweetness of the lamb. He is a person well received among all sorts of men, being qualified to render himself agreeable to any; as he is well versed in history and politics, hath a smattering in law and divinity, cracks a good jest, and plays wonderfully on the French horn.

He had not gone above two miles, charmed with the hopes of shortly seeing his beloved Fanny, when he was met by two fellows in a narrow lane, and ordered to stand and deliver. He readily gave them all the money he had, which was somewhat less than two pounds; and told them, he hoped they would be so generous as to return him a few shillings, to defray his charges on his way home.

One of the ruffians answered with an oath, 'Yes, we'll give you something presently but first strip and be d-d to you.' A violent storm of hail forced Joseph toStrip,' cried the other, or I'll blow your take shelter in this inn, where he remembered Sir Thomas had dined in his way to town. Joseph had no sooner seated himself by the kitchen fire, than Timotheus, observing his livery, began to condole the loss of his late master, who was, he said, his very particular and intimate acquaintance, with whom he had cracked many a merry bottle, ay, many a dozen in his time. He then remarked, that all those things were over now, all past, and just as if they had never been; and concluded with an excellent observation on the certainty of death, which his wife said was indeed very true. A fellow now arrived at the same inn with two horses, one of which he was leading

brains to the devil.' Joseph, remembering that he had borrowed his coat and breeches of a friend, and that he should be ashamed of making any excuse for not returning them, replied, he hoped they would not insist on his clot.es, which were not worth much, but consider the coldness of the night. You are cold, are you, you rascal says one of the robbers; 'I'll warm you with a vengeance;' and, damning his eyes, snapped a pistol at his head; which he had no sooner done, than the other levelled a blow at him with his stick, which Joseph, who was expert at cudgel-playing, caught with his, and returned the favour so successfully on his adversary, that he

laid him sprawling at his feet, and at the same instant received a blow from behind, with the butt end of a pistol, from the other villain, which felled him to the ground, and totally deprived him of his

senses.

these matters, and that he remembered very extraordinary cases in the books, threatened the coachman, and bid him deny taking him up at his peril; for that if he died, he should be indicted for his murder; and if he lived, and brought an action against him, he would willingly take a brief in it. These words had a sensible effect on the coachman, who was well acquainted with the person who spoke them; and the old gentleman above mentioned, thinking the naked man would

The thief who had been knocked down, had now recovered himself; and both together fell to belabouring poor Joseph with their sticks, till they were convinced they had put an end to his miserable being: they then stripped him entirely naked, threw him into a ditch, and de-afford him frequent opportunities of showparted with their booty.

ing his wit to the lady, offered to join with the company in giving a mug of beer for his fare; till partly alarmed by the threats of the one, and partly by the promises of the other, and being perhaps a little moved with compassion at the poor creature's condition, who stood bleeding and shivering with the cold, he at length agreed ; and Joseph was now advancing to the coach, where, seeing the lady, who held the sticks of her fan before her eyes, absolutely refused, miserable as he was, to enter, unless he was furnished with sufficient covering to prevent giving the least offence to decency,-so perfectly modest was this young man; such mighty effects had the spotless example of the amiable Pamela, and the excellent sermons of Mr. Adams, wrought upon him.

The poor wretch, who lay motionless a long time, just began to recover his senses as a stage-coach came by. The postillion hearing a man's groans, stopped his horses, and told the coachman, he was certain there was a dead man lying in the ditch, for he heard him groan. Go on, sirrah,' says the coachman, we are confounded late, and have no time to look after dead men.' A lady, who heard what the postillion said, and likewise heard the groan, called eagerly to the coachman to stop and see what was the matter. Upon which he bid the postillion alight, and look into the ditch. He did so and returned, 'That there was a man sitting upright, as naked as ever he was born.' J-sus!' cried the lady; A naked man! Dear coachman, drive on and leave him.' Upon this the gentlemen got out of the coach; and Joseph begged them to have mercy upon him: for that he had been robbed, and almost beaten to death. 'Robbed,' cries an old gentleman: 'Let us make all the haste imaginable, or we shall be robbed too.' A young man, who belonged to the law, answered 'He wished they had passed by without taking any notice: but that now they might be proved to have been last in his company; if he should die, they might be called to some account for his murder. He therefore thought it advisable to save the poor creature's life for their own sakes, if possible; at least, if he died, to prevent the jury's finding that they fled for it. He was therefore of opinion, to take the man into the coach, and carry him to the next inn.' The lady insisted, That he should not come into the coach. That if they lifted him in, she would herself alight; for she had rather stay in that place to all eternity, than ride with a naked man.' The coach-ble a condition.' man objected, 'That he could not suffer Joseph, having put on the great-coat, him to be taken in, unless somebody would was lifted into the coach, which now propay a shilling for his carriage the four ceeded on its journey. He declared himmiles.' Which the two gentlemen refused self almost dead with the cold, which gave to do. But the lawyer, who was afraid of the man of wit an occasion to ask the some mischief happening to himself, if the lady, if she could not accommodate him wretch was left behind in that condition, with a dram. She answered, with some saying, no man could be too cautious in resentment, She wondered at his asking

Though there were several great-coats about the coach, it was not easy to get over this difficulty which Joseph had started. The two gentlemen complained they were cold, and could not spare a rag; the man of wit saying with a laugh, that charity began at home; and the coachman, who had two great-coats spread under him, refused to lend either, lest they should be made bloody: the lady's footman desired to be excused for the same reason, which the lady herself, notwithstanding her abhorrence of a naked man, approved; and it is more than probable poor Joseph, who obstinately adhered to his modest resolution, must have perished, unless the postillion, (a lad who hath been since transported for robbing a henroost,) had voluntarily stripped off a great-coat, his only garment, at the same time swearing a great oath, (for which he was rebuked by the passengers,) That he would rather ride in his shirt all his life, than suffer a fellow-creature to lie in so misera