The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom, Complete - Tobias Smollett
Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38
"Alas! dear lady," cried the other, with all the emphasis of woe, "an
unhappy gentleman now breathes his last within this inhospitable hovel,
amidst such excess of misery as would melt the most flinty bosom. What
then must I feel, who am connected with him by the strongest ties of love
and conjugal affection?" "Who is the unfortunate object?" said the
physician. "He was once well known in the gay world," replied the young
woman; "his name is Fathom." Every individual of the company started at
mention of that detested name. Serafina began to tremble with emotion;
and Renaldo, after a short pause, declared he would go in, not with a
view to exult over his misery, but in order to contemplate the
catastrophe of such a wicked life, that the moral might be the more
deeply engraved on his remembrance. The young Countess, whose tender
heart could not bear the shock of such a spectacle, retired to the coach
with Madam Clement and the Jew, while Renaldo, accompanied by the rest,
entered a dismal apartment, altogether void of furniture and convenience,
where they beheld the wretched hero of these memoirs stretched almost
naked upon straw, insensible, convulsed, and seemingly in the grasp of
death. He was worn to the bone either by famine or distemper; his face
was overshadowed with hair and filth; his eyes were sunk, glazed, and
distorted; his nostrils dilated; his lips covered with a black slough;
and his complexion faded into a pale clay-colour, tending to a yellow
hue. In a word, the extremity of indigence, squalor, and distress could
not be more feelingly represented.
While Melvil perused this melancholy lesson, and groaning, cried, "Behold
the fate of man!" he perceived a letter in the right hand of the
unfortunate Fathom, which lay fast clenched across his breast. Curious
to know the contents of this paper, which the young woman said he had
kept in that position for several days, he drew nearer the wretched
couch, and was not a little surprised to see it addressed to the Right
Honourable Renaldo Count de Melvil, to the care of Mr. Joshua Manesseh,
merchant in London. When he attempted to disengage this billet from the
author's hand, the sorrowing female fell upon her knees, entreating him
to desist, and telling him, she had promised, upon oath, to communicate
the contents to no person upon earth, but to carry the letter, upon her
husband's decease, to the gentleman to whose care it was directed.
Renaldo assured her, upon his honour, that he was the very Renaldo Count
de Melvil, for whom it was intended; and the young creature was so much
confounded at this information, that, before she could recollect herself,
Melvil had opened the billet, and read these words: "If this paper should
fall into the hands of the noble Renaldo, he will understand, that Fathom
was the most execrable traitor that ever imposed upon unsuspecting
benevolence, or attempted to betray a generous benefactor. His whole
life was a series of fraud, perfidy, and the most abominable ingratitude.
But, of all the crimes that lay heavy upon his soul, his being accessory
to the death of the incomparable Serafina, whose father he had also
robbed, was that for which he despaired of Heaven's forgiveness,
notwithstanding the dreadful compunction and remorse which have long
preyed upon his heart, together with the incredible misery and deplorable
death which by this time he hath undergone. Though these sufferings and
sorrows cannot atone for his enormous guilt, perhaps they will excite the
compassion of the humane Count de Melvil; at least, this confession,
which my conscience dictates under all the terrors of death and futurity,
may be a warning for him to avoid henceforth a smiling villain, like the
execrable Fathom, upon whose miserable soul Almighty God have mercy."
Renaldo was deeply affected with the contents of this scroll, which
denoted such horror and despair. He saw there could be no dissimulation
or sinister design in this profession of penitence. He beheld the
condition of the writer, which put all his humane passions in commotion;
so that he remembered nothing of Fathom but his present distress. He
could scarce maintain those indications which might have been justly
deemed the effect of weakness and infirmity; and having desired the
physician and clergyman to contribute their assistance for the benefit of
that wretch's soul and body, he ran to the coach, and communicated the
letter to the ladies; at the same time drawing a picture of the object he
had seen, which brought tears into the eyes of the gentle Serafina, who
earnestly entreated her lord to use his endeavours for the relief and
recovery of the unhappy man, that he might, if possible, live to enjoy
the benefit of mature repentance, and not die in that dreadful despair
which he manifested in the letter.
Renaldo, returning to the house, found the pious clergyman reading
prayers with great fervency, while Don Diego stood with his right hand
upon his breast, looking steadfastly upon the agonising Fathom, and the
young woman kneeled, with her streaming eyes lifted up to heaven, in an
ecstasy of grief and devotion. The physician had run to an apothecary's
shop in the neighbourhood, from whence he soon returned with an
assistant, who applied a large blister to the back of the miserable
patient, while the female, by the doctor's direction, moistened his mouth
with a cordial which he had prescribed.
These charitable steps being taken, Count de Melvil entreated the
apothecary's servant to procure a tent-bed for the accommodation of the
sick person with all imaginable despatch; and, in less than an hour, one
was actually pitched, and Fathom lifted into it, after he had been
shifted, and in some measure purified from the dregs of his indigence.
During this transaction the ladies were conducted to a tavern not far
off, where dinner was bespoke, that they might be at hand to see the
effect of their charity, which was not confined to what we have already
described, but extended so far, that, in a little time, the apartment was
comfortably furnished, and the young creature provided with change of
apparel, and money to procure the necessaries of subsistence.
Notwithstanding all their care, the wretched Fathom still remained
insensible, and the doctor pronounced a very unfavourable prognostic,
while he ordered a pair of additional vesicatories to be laid upon his
arms, and other proper medicines to be administered. After dinner, the
ladies ventured to visit the place, and when Serafina crossed the
threshold, the weeping female fell at her feet, and, kissing her robe,
exclaimed, "Sure you are an angel from heaven."
The alteration in her dress had made a very agreeable change in her
appearance, so that the Countess could now look upon her without
shuddering at her distress. And, as Fathom was not in a condition to be
disturbed, she took this opportunity of inquiring by what steps that
unfortunate wretch was conveyed from the prison, in which she knew he had
been confined, to the place where he now lay in such extremity; and by
what occurrence he had found a wife in such an abyss of misfortune. Here
the other's tears began to flow afresh. "I am ashamed," said she, "to
reveal my own folly; yet I dare not refuse a satisfaction of this kind to
a person who has laid me under such signal obligations."
She then proceeded to relate her story, by which it appeared, she was no
other than the fair and unhappy Elenor, whom the artful Fathom had
debauched upon his first arrival in town, in the manner already described
in these memoirs. "Heaven," continued she, "was pleased to restore the
use of my reason, which I had lost when I found myself abandoned by the
Count; but, all my connexion with my own family being entirely cut off,
and every door shut against a poor creature who could procure no
recommendation, except the certificate signed by the physician of Bedlam,
which, instead of introducing me to service, was an insurmountable
objection to my character, I found myself destitute of all means of
subsisting, unless I would condescend to live the infamous and wretched
life of a courtezan, an expedient rendered palatable by the terrors of
want, cooperating with the reflection of the irretrievable loss I had
already sustained. I ask pardon for offending your chaste ears with this
impure confession of my guilt, which, Heaven knows, I then did, and now
do look upon with abhorrence and detestation. I had already forfeited my
innocence, and wanted resolution to encounter misery and death.
Nevertheless, before I could determine to embrace the condition of a
prostitute, I was one day accosted in the Park by an elderly gentleman
who sat down by me upon a bench, and, taking notice of the despondence
which was evident in my countenance, pressed me to make him acquainted
with the nature of my misfortune. So much sympathy and good sense
appeared in his deportment and conversation, that I gratified his
request, and he, in return for my confidence, saved me from the most
horrible part of my prospect, by taking me into his protection, and
reserving me for his own appetite. In this situation I lived a whole
year, until I was deprived of my keeper by an apoplectic fit, and turned
out of doors by his relations, who did not, however, strip me of the
clothes and moveables which I owed to his bounty. Far from being as yet
reconciled to a vicious life, I resolved to renounce the paths of shame,
and, converting my effects into ready money, hired a small shop, and
furnished it with haberdashery ware, intending to earn an honest
livelihood by the sale of these commodities, together with the plain work
in which I hoped to be employed so soon as my talents should be known.
But this scheme did not answer my expectation. The goods spoiled upon my
hands, and, as I was a stranger in the neighbourhood, nobody would
intrust me with any other business. So that, notwithstanding the most
parsimonious economy, I ran in debt to my landlord, who seized my
effects; and an hosier, from whom I had received some parcels upon
credit, took out a writ against me, by virtue of which I was arrested and
imprisoned in the Marshalsea, where I found my first seducer. Good
Heaven! what did I feel at this unexpected meeting, overwhelmed as I was
before with my own distress! I with a loud scream fainted away, and,
when I recovered, found myself in the arms of Mr. Fathom, who wept over
me with great affliction. All his prospects of gaiety had now vanished,
and his heart was softened by his own misfortunes, to a feeling of
another's woe, as well as to a due sense of his own guilt. He expressed
the deepest sorrow for having been the occasion of my ruin, endeavoured
to comfort me with a promise of assistance, and indeed, by practising
medicine among the prisoners, made shift to keep us both from starving.
But surely no sinner underwent such severe remorse as that which he
suffered during his imprisonment. From the day of our meeting, I never
once saw him smile; a melancholy cloud continually overhung his
countenance. He numbered the minutes by his groans, he used to start
with horror from his sleep, and, striking his breast, would exclaim, 'O
Elenor! I am the worst of villains!' Sometimes he seemed disordered in
his brain, and raved about Renaldo and Monimia. In a word, his mind was
in a dreadful situation, and all his agonies were communicated to me,
whom by this time he had married, in order to make some atonement for my
wrongs. Wretched as he then was, I remembered the accomplished youth
who had captivated my virgin heart, the old impressions still remained, I
saw his penitence, pitied his misfortune, and his wife being dead,
consented to join his fate, the ceremony having been performed by a
fellow-prisoner, who was in orders. Though his hard-hearted creditor had
no other chance of being paid, than that of setting him at liberty, he
lent a deaf ear to all our supplications; and this cruelty conspiring
with the anguish of my husband's own reflection, affected his health and
spirits to such a degree, that he could no longer earn the miserable
pittance which had hitherto supported our lives. Then our calamities
began to multiply. Indigence and famine stared us in the face; and it
was with the utmost difficulty that we resisted their attacks, by selling
or pledging our wearing apparel, until we were left almost quite naked,
when we found ourselves discharged by an act passed for the relief of
insolvent debtors. This charitable law, which was intended for a
consolation to the wretched, proved to us the most severe disaster; for
we were turned out into the streets, utterly destitute of food, raiment,
and lodging, at a time when Mr. Fathom was so weakened by his distemper,
that he could not stand alone. I supported him from door to door,
imploring the compassion of charitable Christians, and was at length
permitted to shelter him in this miserable place, where his disease
gaining ground, he lay three days in that deplorable condition, from
which he hath now been rescued, though I fear too late, by your humanity
and benevolence."
She shed a flood of tears at the conclusion of this mournful tale, which
did not fail to affect the whole audience, especially Serafina, who
assured her, that, whatever should happen to her husband, she might
depend upon finding favour and protection, provided her conduct should
correspond with her professions. While this grateful creature kissed the
hand of her kind benefactress, Fathom uttered a groan, began to stir in
the bed, and with a languid voice called upon Elenor, who, instantly
withdrawing the curtain, presented the whole company to his view. He had
now retrieved the use of his perception by the operation of the blisters,
which began to torture him severely; he looked around him with amazement
and affright, and distinguishing the three persons against whom the chief
arrows of his fraud and treachery had been levelled, he concluded that he
was now arrived at the land of departed souls, and that the shades of
those whom he had so grievously injured were come to see him tormented
according to his demerits.
Fraught with this notion, which was confirmed by the bodily pain which he
felt, and the appearance of the clergyman and Joshua, whom he mistook for
the ministers of vengeance, he cried in a tone replete with horror, "Is
there no mercy then for penitence? Is there no pity due to the miseries
I suffered upon earth? Save me, O bountiful Heaven! from the terrors of
everlasting woe; hide me from these dreadful executioners, whose looks
are torture. Forgive me, generous Castilian. O Renaldo! thou hadst once
a tender heart. I dare not lift my eyes to Serafina! that pattern of
human excellence, who fell a victim to my atrocious guilt; yet her aspect
is all mildness and compassion. Hah! are not these the drops of pity?
Yes, they are the tears of mercy. They fall like refreshing showers upon
my drooping soul! Ah, murdered innocence! wilt thou not intercede for
thy betrayer at the throne of grace!"
Here he was interrupted by Melvil, who with a grave and solemn air
pronounced, "Great hath been thy guilt, unhappy Ferdinand, and great have
been thy sufferings. Yet we come not to insult, but to alleviate thy
distress. Providence hath kindly defeated thy dire intentions, which we
therefore now forgive and transmit to oblivion, whether it be thy lot to
yield up thy spirit immediately, or to survive the dangerous malady with
which thou art at present overwhelmed. Suffer not thyself to despair;
for the mercy of Heaven is infinite; and submit to the directions of this
worthy gentleman, who will employ his skill for thy recovery, while we
shall take care to furnish thee with necessary attendance. As too much
speaking may be prejudicial to thy health, I dispense with thy reply, and
exhort thee to compose thyself to rest." So saying, he drew the curtain,
and the company retired, leaving Fathom entranced with wonder.
The next step which Renaldo took for the benefit of this wretched
penitent, was to send for the apothecary, with whom he left a sum of
money to be expended for the convenience of Fathom and his wife; then he
laid injunctions upon the physician to repeat his visits; and that
gentleman, together with the clergyman and Joshua, taking leave of
the others till next day, the Count set out with the ladies and his
father-in-law to the house where they had lodged the preceding night.
The reader may well imagine the conversation of the evening turned wholly
upon the strange occurrence of the day, which seemed to have been
concerted by supernatural prescience, in order to satisfy the vengeance,
and afford matter of triumph to the generosity of those who had been so
grievously injured by the guilty Fathom. Though not one of them would
say that such a miscreant ought to live, yet all concurred in approving
the offices of humanity which had been performed, and even endeavoured to
find specious pretext for vindicating their compassion. Don Diego said,
it would ill become a transgressor like him to withhold his forgiveness
from a sinner who had wronged him. Madam Clement appealed to the
approbation of Heaven, which had undoubtedly directed them that way, for
the purpose they had fulfilled. Serafina observed, that the crimes of
the delinquent were obliterated by his sorrow, misery, and repentance.
Renaldo honestly owned, that, exclusive of other reasons, he could not
deny himself the luxurious enjoyment of communicating happiness to his
fellow-creatures in distress; and each fervently prayed, that their
charity might not be disappointed by the death of the object.
While they amused themselves in these discussions, Fathom, after having
lain some hours silent, in consequence of Renaldo's advice, could no
longer suppress the astonishment of his mind, but, addressing himself to
his wife, "O Elenor!" said he, "my delirium is now past; though I still
remember the phantasies of my distempered brain. Among other reveries,
my imagination was regaled with a vision so perfect and distinct, as to
emulate truth and reality. Methought Count de Melvil, Don Diego de
Zelos, and the divine Serafina, the very persons who are now crying
before the throne of Heaven for vengeance against the guilty Fathom,
stood by my bedside, with looks of pity and forgiveness; and that Renaldo
spoke peace to my despairing soul. I heard the words distinctly. I
retain them in my memory. I saw the tears trickle from Serafina's eyes.
I heard her father utter a compassionate sigh; and should actually
believe that they were personally present, had not I long ago seen with
my own eyes the funeral procession of that young lady, whose wrongs God
pardon; and were I not convinced that such a meeting could not be
effected without the immediate and miraculous interposition of Heaven.
Yet everything I now see corresponds with the words of Renaldo, which
still sound in my ears. When my perception forsook me, I lay in the most
abject misery, among straw; and thou, poor injured innocence, wast naked
and forlorn. Now, I find myself reposed in a warm, easy, comfortable
bed. I see around me the marks of human charity and care, and the
favourable change in thy appearance glads my poor dejected heart. Say,
whence this happy alteration? Do I really awake from that dream of
misery in which we have continued so long? or do I still utter the
extravagant ravings of a distempered brain?"
Elenor was afraid of imparting at once all the particulars of the happy
change he had undergone, lest they might leave a dangerous impression
upon his fancy, which was not yet duly composed. She contented herself,
therefore, with telling him, that he had been obliged to the humanity of
a gentleman and lady, who chanced to pass that way by accident, and who,
understanding his deplorable case, had furnished him with the
conveniences which he now enjoyed. She then presented to him what the
doctor had directed her to administer, and, admonishing him to commit his
head to the pillow, he was favoured with a breathing sweat, fell fast
asleep, and in a few hours waked again altogether cool and undisturbed.
It was upon this occasion that his wife explained the circumstances of
that visit which had redeemed him from extremity of wretchedness and the
jaws of death; upon which he started up, and throwing himself upon his
knees, exclaimed, "All-gracious Power! this was the work of thy own
bounteous hand; the voice of my sorrow and repentance hath been heard.
Thou hast inspired my benefactors with more than mortal goodness in my
behalf; how shall I praise thy name! how shall I requite their
generosity! Oh, I am bankrupt to both! yet let me not perish until I
shall have convinced them of my reformation, and seen them enjoying that
felicity which ought to be reserved for such consummate virtue."
Next day, in the forenoon, he was visited by the physician, whom he now
recollected to have seen at the house of Madam Clement; and, after having
thanked that gentleman for his humanity and care, he earnestly begged to
know by what means Serafina had been preserved. When he was satisfied in
this particular, and given to understand that she was now happy in the
arms of Renaldo, "Blessed be God!" he cried, "for having defeated the
villany of him who sought to part such lovers. Dear sir, will you add
one circumstance to your charity, and bear to that happy couple, and the
noble Don Diego, the respects and the remorse of a sincere penitent, whom
their compassion hath raised to life? I have been such a traitor to
them, that my words deserve no regard. I will not therefore use
professions. I dare not hope to be admitted into their presence. I am
indeed ashamed to see the light of the sun. How then could I bear the
looks of that injured family? ah, no! let me hide myself in some obscure
retreat, where I may work out my salvation with fear and trembling, and
pray incessantly to Heaven for their prosperity."
The physician promised to represent his contrition to the Count and his
lady, and accordingly proceeded to their habitation, where he repeated
these expressions, and pronounced his patient out of danger. So that
their thoughts were now employed in concerting a scheme for his future
subsistence, that he might not be exposed by indigence to a relapse in
point of morals. Renaldo being still averse to any personal intercourse
with such a wretch, until he should give some undoubted proofs of
amendment, and, as yet afraid of intrusting him with any office that
required integrity, resolved, with the approbation of all present, to
settle him in a cheap county in the north of England, where he and his
wife could live comfortably on an annuity of sixty pounds, until his
behaviour should entitle him to a better provision.
This resolution was just taken, when Joshua arrived with a gentleman whom
he introduced to Don Diego as the secretary of the Spanish ambassador.
After the first compliments, the stranger told the Castilian, that he
waited upon him at the desire of his Excellency, who would have come in
person, had he not been confined by the gout. Then he put into his hand
a letter from the court of Madrid, written by a nobleman of Diego's
acquaintance, who informed him, that Don Manuel de Mendoza having made
away with himself by poison, in order to avoid the disgrace of a legal
conviction, his Catholic Majesty was now convinced of Don Diego's
innocence, and granted him leave to return and take possession of his
honours and estate. This information was confirmed by the secretary, who
assured him that the ambassador had orders to make him acquainted with
this favourable decision of the King. The Castilian having first
acquitted himself in the most polite terms to the secretary and the Jew,
who, he said, had always been a messenger of glad tidings, communicated
his happiness to the company; and this evening concluded the third day of
their rejoicing.
Next morning Don Diego went to visit the ambassador, accompanied by
Joshua and the secretary; while the physician, repairing to the
habitation of Fathom, signified, by Renaldo's direction, the resolution
which had been taken in his behalf; and the patient no sooner heard his
doom, than, lifting up his hands, he cried, "I am unworthy of such
tenderness and benevolence." While Elenor shed a flood of tears in
silence, unable to give utterance to her grateful thought; Melvil's
bounty having so far transcended her most sanguine hope.
The Spaniard having paid his devoirs to his Excellency, returned before
dinner; and, in the afternoon, desiring a private conference with
Serafina, they retired into another apartment, and he expressed himself
to this effect: "You have contracted, my dear child, an habit of calling
Madam Clement your mother, and doubtless, by her maternal tenderness and
regard, she hath acquired a just title to the appellation. Yet I own I
would fain strengthen it by a legal claim. I no sooner retrieved my
daughter than I gave her away to the most deserving youth that ever
sighed with love.--I rejoice in the gift which secured your happiness.
But I left myself in a solitary situation, which even the return of my
good fortune cannot render easy and supportable. When I revisit the
Castle of Zelos, every well-known object will recall the memory of my
Antonia, and I shall want a companion to fill her place, and to
sympathise with me in that sorrow which will be derived from my
remembrance. Who is there so worthy to succeed your mother in the
affection of Don Diego, as she who interests her love for Serafina, and
resembles her so strongly in every virtue of the sex? Similar
attractions will produce similar effects. My heart is already attached
to that good lady; and, provided Serafina shall approve of my choice, I
will lay myself and fortune at her feet."