The Adventures of Sir Launcelot Greaves - Tobias Smollett
They were all pretty well disposed to follow his advice, except farmer
Prickle, who, entering the court with a bloody handkerchief about his
head, declared that the law should determine it at next 'size; and in the
meantime insisted that the defendants should find immediate bail, or go
to prison, or be set in the stocks. He affirmed that they had been
guilty of an affray, in appearing with armour and weapons not usually
worn, to the terror of others, which is in itself a breach of the peace;
but that they had, moreover, with force of arms, that is to say, with
swords, staves, and other warlike instruments, by turns, made an assault
and affray, to the terror and disturbance of him and divers subjects of
our lord the King, then and there being, and to the evil and pernicious
example of the liege people of the said lord the King, and against the
peace of our said lord the King, his crown and dignity.
The peasant had purchased a few law terms at a considerable expense, and
he thought he had a right to turn his knowledge to the annoyance of all
his neighbours. Mr. Elmy, finding him obstinately deaf to all proposals
of accommodation, held the defendants to very moderate bail, the landlord
and the curate of the parish freely offering themselves as sureties. Mr.
Clarke, with Timothy Crabshaw, against whom nothing appeared, were now
set at liberty; when the former, advancing to his worship, gave
information against Geoffrey Prickle, and declared upon oath that he had
seen him assault Captain Crowe without any provocation; and when he, the
deponent, interposed to prevent further mischief, the said Prickle had
likewise assaulted and wounded him, the deponent, and detained him for
some time in false imprisonment, without warrant or authority.
In consequence of this information, which was corroborated by divers
evidences, selected from the mob at the gate, the tables were turned upon
farmer Prickle, who was given to understand, that he must either find
bail, or be forthwith imprisoned. This honest boor, who was in opulent
circumstances, had made such popular use of the benefits he possessed,
that there was not a housekeeper in the parish who would not have
rejoiced to see him hanged. His dealings and connexions, however, were
such, that none of the other four would have refused to bail him, had not
Clarke given them to understand that, if they did, he would make them all
principals and parties, and have two separate actions against each.
Prickle happened to be at variance with the innkeeper, and the curate
durst not disoblige the vicar, who at that very time was suing the farmer
for the small tithes. He offered to deposit a sum equal to the
recognisance of the knight's bail; but this was rejected, as an expedient
contrary to the practice of the courts. He sent for the attorney of the
village, to whom he had been a good customer; but the lawyer was hunting
evidence in another county. The exciseman presented himself as a surety;
but he not being an housekeeper, was not accepted. Divers cottagers, who
depended on farmer Prickle, were successively refused, because they could
not prove that they had paid scot and lot, and parish taxes.
The farmer, finding himself thus forlorn, and in imminent danger of
visiting the inside of a prison, was seized with a paroxysm of rage,
during which he inveighed against the bench, reviled the two adventurers
errant, declared that he believed, and would lay a wager of twenty
guineas, that he had more money in his pocket than e'er a man in the
company; and in the space of a quarter of an hour swore forty oaths,
which the justice did not fail to number. "Before we proceed to other
matters," said Mr. Elmy, "I order you to pay forty shillings for the
oaths you have sworn, otherwise I will cause you to be set in the stocks
without further ceremony."
Prickle, throwing down a couple of guineas, with two execrations more to
make up the sum, declared that he could afford to pay for swearing as
well as e'er a justice in the county, and repeated his challenge of the
wager, which our adventurer now accepted, protesting, at the same time,
that it was not a step taken from any motive of pride, but entirely with
a view to punish an insolent plebeian, who could not otherwise be
chastised without a breach of the peace. Twenty guineas being deposited
on each side in the hands of Mr. Elmy, Prickle, with equal confidence and
despatch, produced a canvas bag, containing two hundred and seventy
pounds, which, being spread upon the table, made a very formidable show,
that dazzled the eyes of the beholders, and induced many of them to
believe he had ensured his conquest.
Our adventurer, asking if he had anything further to offer, and being
answered in the negative, drew forth, with great deliberation, a
pocket-book, in which there was a considerable parcel of bank-notes,
from which he selected three of one hundred pounds each, and exhibited
them upon the table, to the astonishment of all present. Prickle, mad
with his overthrow and loss, said, it might be necessary to make him
prove the notes were honestly come by; and Sir Launcelot started up, in
order to take vengeance upon him for this insult, but was withheld by the
arms and remonstrances of Mr. Elmy, who assured him that Prickle desired
nothing so much as another broken head, to lay the foundation of a new
prosecution.
The knight, calmed by this interposition, turned to the audience, saying,
with the most affable deportment, "Good people, do not imagine that I
intend to pocket the spoils of such a contemptible rascal. I shall beg
the favour of this worthy gentleman to take up these twenty guineas, and
distribute them as he shall think proper among the poor of the parish;
but, by this benefaction, I do not hold myself acquitted for the share I
had in the bruises some of you have received in this unlucky fray, and
therefore I give the other twenty guineas to be divided among the
sufferers, to each according to the damage he or she shall appear to have
sustained; and I shall consider it as an additional obligation, if Mr.
Elmy will likewise superintend this retribution."
At the close of this address, the whole yard and gateway rung with
acclamation, while honest Crowe, whose generosity was not inferior even
to that of the accomplished Greaves, pulled out his purse, and declared,
that, as he had begun the engagement, he would at least go share and
share alike in new caulking their seams, and repairing their timbers.
The knight, rather than enter into a dispute with his novice, told him he
considered the twenty guineas as given by them both in conjunction, and
that they would confer together on that subject hereafter.
This point being adjusted, Mr. Elmy assumed all the solemnity of the
magistrate, and addressed himself to Prickle in these words: "Farmer
Prickle, I am both sorry and ashamed to see a man of your years and
circumstances so little respected, that you cannot find sufficient bail
for forty pounds; a sure testimony that you have neither cultivated the
friendship, nor deserved the goodwill of your neighbours. I have heard
of your quarrels and your riots, your insolence and litigious
disposition, and often wished for an opportunity of giving you a proper
taste of the law's correction. That opportunity now offers; you have, in
the hearing of all these people, poured forth a torrent of abuse against
me, both in the character of a gentleman and of a magistrate. Your
abusing me personally perhaps I should have overlooked with the contempt
it deserves, but I should ill vindicate the dignity of my office as a
magistrate, by suffering you to insult the bench with impunity. I shall
therefore imprison you for contempt, and you shall remain in jail until
you can find bail on the other prosecutions."
Prickle, the first transports of his anger having subsided, began to be
pricked with the thorns of compunction; he was indeed extremely mortified
at the prospect of being sent to jail so disgracefully. His countenance
fell; and, after a hard internal struggle, while the clerk was employed
in writing the mittimus, he said he hoped his worship would not send him
to prison. He begged pardon of him, and our adventurers, for having
abused them in his passion; and observed, that, as he had received a
broken head, and paid two-and-twenty guineas for his folly, he could not
be said to have escaped altogether without punishment, even if the
plaintiff should agree to exchange releases.
Sir Launcelot, seeing this stubborn rustic effectually humbled, became an
advocate in his favour with Mr. Elmy, and Tom Clarke, who forgave him at
his request; and a mutual release being executed, the farmer was
permitted to depart. The populace were regaled at our adventurer's
expense; and the men, women, and children, who had been wounded or
bruised in the battle, to the number of ten or a dozen, were desired to
wait upon Mr. Elmy in the morning, to receive the knight's bounty. The
justice was prevailed upon to spend the evening with Sir Launcelot and
his two companions, for whom supper was bespoke; but the first thing the
cook prepared was a poultice for Crowe's head, which was now enlarged to
a monstrous exhibition. Our knight, who was all kindness and
complacency, shook Mr. Clarke by the hand, expressing his satisfaction at
meeting with his old friends again; and told him softly, that he had
compliments for him from Mrs. Dolly Cowslip, who now lived with his
Aurelia.
Clarke was confounded at this intelligence, and, after some hesitation,
"Lord bless my soul!" cried he, "I'll be shot, then, if the pretended
Miss Meadows wa'n't the same as Miss Darnel!" He then declared himself
extremely glad that poor Dolly had got into such an agreeable situation,
passed many warm encomiums on her goodness of heart and virtuous
inclinations, and concluded with appealing to the knight, whether she did
not look very pretty in her green joseph. In the meantime, he procured a
plaster for his own head, and helped to apply the poultice to that of his
uncle, who was sent to bed betimes with a moderate dose of sack-whey, to
promote perspiration. The other three passed the evening to their mutual
satisfaction; and the justice, in particular, grew enamoured of the
knight's character, dashed as it was with extravagance.
Let us now leave them to the enjoyment of a sober and rational
conversation, and give some account of other guests, who arrived late in
the evening, and here fixed their night quarters. But as we have already
trespassed on the reader's patience, we shall give him a short respite,
until the next chapter makes its appearance.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IN WHICH THE RAYS OF CHIVALRY SHINE WITH RENOVATED LUSTRE.
Our hero little dreamed that he had a formidable rival in the person of
the knight, who arrived about eleven, at the sign of the St. George, and,
by the noise he made, gave intimation of his importance. This was no
other than Squire Sycamore, who, having received advice that Miss Aurelia
Darnel had eloped from the place of her retreat, immediately took the
field in quest of that lovely fugitive; hoping that, should he have the
good fortune to find her in present distress, his good offices would not
be rejected. He had followed the chase so close, that, immediately after
our adventurer's departure, he alighted at the inn, from whence Aurelia
had been conveyed; and there he learned the particulars which we have
related above.
Mr. Sycamore had a great deal of the childish romantic in his
disposition, and, in the course of his amours, is said to have always
taken more pleasure in the pursuit than in the final possession. He had
heard of Sir Launcelot's extravagance, by which he was in some measure
infected, and he dropped an insinuation, that he could eclipse his rival,
even in his own lunatic sphere. This hint was not lost upon his
companion, counsellor, and buffoon, the facetious Davy Dawdle, who had
some humour, and a great deal of mischief, in his composition. He looked
upon his patron as a fool, and his patron knew him to be both knave and
fool; yet, the two characters suited each other so well, that they could
hardly exist asunder. Davy was an artful sycophant, but he did not
flatter in the usual way; on the contrary, he behaved en cavalier, and
treated Sycamore, on whose bounty he subsisted, with the most sarcastic
familiarity. Nevertheless, he seasoned his freedom with certain
qualifying ingredients, that subdued the bitterness of it, and was now
become so necessary to the squire, that he had no idea of enjoyment with
which Dawdle was not somehow or other connected.
There had been a warm dispute betwixt them about the scheme of contesting
the prize with Sir Launcelot in the lists of chivalry. Sycamore had
insinuated, that if he had a mind to play the fool, he could wear armour,
wield a lance, and manage a charger, as well as Sir Launcelot Greaves.
Dawdle, snatching the hint, "I had, some time ago," said he, "contrived a
scheme for you, which I was afraid you had not address enough to execute.
It would be no difficult matter, in imitation of the bachelor, Sampson
Carrasco, to go in quest of Greaves, as a knight-errant, defy him as a
rival, and establish a compact, by which the vanquished should obey the
injunctions of the victor."--"That is my very idea," cried Sycamore.
"--Your idea!" replied the other; "had you ever an idea of your own
conception?" Thus the dispute began, and was maintained with great
vehemence, until other arguments failing, the squire offered to lay a
wager of twenty guineas. To this proposal, Dawdle answered by the
interjection pish! which inflamed Sycamore to a repetition of the
defiance. "You are in the right," said Dawdle, "to use such an argument
as you know is by me unanswerable. A wager of twenty guineas will at any
time overthrow and confute all the logic of the most able syllogist, who
has not got a shilling in his pocket."
Sycamore looked very grave at this declaration, and, after a short pause,
said, "I wonder, Dawdle, what you do with all your money?"--"I am
surprised you should give yourself that trouble--I never ask what you do
with yours."--"You have no occasion to ask; you know pretty well how it
goes."--"What, do you upbraid me with your favours?--'t is mighty well,
Sycamore."--"Nay, Dawdle, I did not intend to affront."--"Z----s!
affront! what d'ye mean?" "I'll assure you, Davy, you don't know me, if
you think I could be so ungenerous as to--a--to----"--"I always thought,
whatever faults or foibles you might have, Sycamore, that you was not
deficient in generosity,--though to be sure it is often very absurdly
displayed."--"Ay, that's one of my greatest foibles; I can't refuse even
a scoundrel, when I think he is in want.--Here, Dawdle, take that note."
--"Not I, sir,--what d'ye mean?--what right have I to your notes?"
--"Nay, but Dawdle,--come."--"By no means; it looks like the abuse of
good-nature;--all the world knows you're good-natured to a fault."
--"Come, dear Davy, you shall--you must oblige me."--Thus urged, Dawdle
accepted the bank-note with great reluctance, and restored the idea to
the right owner.
A suit of armour being brought from the garret or armoury of his
ancestors, he gave orders for having the pieces scoured and furbished up;
and his heart dilated with joy, when he reflected upon the superb figure
he should make when cased in complete steel, and armed at all points for
the combat.
When he was fitted with the other parts, Dawdle insisted on buckling on
his helmet, which weighed fifteen pounds; and, the headpiece being
adjusted, made such a clatter about his ears with a cudgel, that his eyes
had almost started from their sockets. His voice was lost within the
vizor, and his friend affected not to understand his meaning when he made
signs with his gauntlets, and endeavoured to close with him, that he
might wrest the cudgel from his hand. At length he desisted, saying,
"I'll warrant the helmet sound by its ringing"; and taking it off, found
the squire in a cold sweat. He would have achieved his first exploit on
the spot, had his strength permitted him to assault Dawdle; but what with
want of air, and the discipline he had undergone, he had well-nigh
swooned away; and before he retrieved the use of his members, he was
appeased by the apologies of his companion, who protested he meant
nothing more than to try if the helmet was free of cracks, and whether or
not it would prove a good protection for the head it covered.
His excuses were accepted; the armour was packed up, and next morning Mr.
Sycamore set out from his own house, accompanied by Dawdle, who undertook
to perform the part of his squire at the approaching combat. He was also
attended by a servant on horseback, who had charge of the armour, and
another who blowed the trumpet. They no sooner understood that our hero
was housed at the George, than the trumpeter sounded a charge, which
alarmed Sir Launcelot and his company, and disturbed honest Captain Crowe
in the middle of his first sleep. Their next step was to pen a
challenge, which, when the stranger departed, was by the trumpeter
delivered with great ceremony into the hands of Sir Launcelot, who read
it in these words:--"To the knight of the Crescent, greeting. Whereas I
am informed you have the presumption to lay claim to the heart of the
peerless Aurelia Darnel, I give you notice that I can admit no rivalship
in the affection of that paragon of beauty; and I expect that you will
either resign your pretensions, or make it appear in single combat,
according to the law of arms and the institutions of chivalry, that you
are worthy to dispute her favour with him of the Griffin.--POLYDORE."
Our adventurer was not a little surprised at this address, which however
he pocketed in silence, and began to reflect, not without mortification,
that he was treated as a lunatic by some person, who wanted to amuse
himself with the infirmities of his fellow-creatures. Mr. Thomas Clarke,
who saw the ceremony with which the letter was delivered, and the
emotions with which it was read, hied him to the kitchen for
intelligence, and there learned that the stranger was Squire Sycamore.
He forthwith comprehended the nature of the billet, and, in the
apprehension that bloodshed would ensue, resolved to alarm his uncle,
that he might assist in keeping the peace. He accordingly entered the
apartment of the captain, who had been waked by the trumpet, and now
peevishly asked the meaning of that d--ned piping, as if all hands were
called upon deck? Clarke having imparted what he knew of the
transaction, together with his own conjectures, the captain said, he did
not suppose as how they would engage by candlelight; and that, for his
own part, he should turn out in the larboard watch, long enough before
any signals could be hove out for forming the line.
With this assurance the lawyer retired to his nest, where he did not fail
to dream of Mrs. Dolly Cowslip, while Sir Launcelot passed the night
awake, in ruminating on the strange challenge he had received. He had
got notice that the sender was Mr. Sycamore, and hesitated with himself
whether he should not punish him for his impertinence; but when he
reflected on the nature of the dispute, and the serious consequences it
might produce, he resolved to decline the combat, as a trial of right and
merit founded upon absurdity. Even in his maddest hours, he never
adopted those maxims of knight-errantry which related to challenges. He
always perceived the folly and wickedness of defying a man to mortal
fight, because he did not like the colour of his beard, or the complexion
of his mistress; or of deciding by homicide whether he or his rival
deserved the preference, when it was the lady's prerogative to determine
which should be the happy lover. It was his opinion that chivalry was an
useful institution while confined to its original purposes of protecting
the innocent, assisting the friendless, and bringing the guilty to
condign punishment. But he could not conceive how these laws should be
answered by violating every suggestion of reason, and every precept of
humanity.
Captain Crowe did not examine the matter so philosophically. He took it
for granted that in the morning the two knights would come to action, and
slept sound on that supposition. But he rose before it was day, resolved
to be somehow concerned in the fray; and understanding that the stranger
had a companion, set him down immediately for his own antagonist. So
impatient was he to establish this secondary contest, that by daybreak he
entered the chamber of Dawdle, to which he was directed by the waiter,
and roused him with a hilloah, that might have been heard at the distance
of half a league. Dawdle, startled by this terrific sound, sprung out of
bed, and stood upright on the floor, before he opened his eyes upon the
object by which he had been so dreadfully alarmed. But when he beheld
the head of Crowe, so swelled and swathed, so livid, hideous, and grisly,
with a broadsword by his side, and a case of pistols in his girdle, he
believed it was the apparition of some murdered man; his hair bristled
up, his teeth chattered, and his knees knocked; he would have prayed, but
his tongue denied its office. Crowe seeing his perturbation, "Mayhap,
friend," said he, "you take me for a buccaneer; but I am no such person.
--My name is Captain Crowe.--I come not for your silver nor your gold,
your rigging nor your stowage; but hearing as how your friend intends to
bring my friend Sir Launcelot Greaves to action, d'ye see, I desire in
the way of friendship, that, while they are engaged, you and I, as their
seconds, may lie board and board for a few glasses to divert one another,
d'ye see." Dawdle hearing this request, began to retrieve his faculties,
and throwing himself into the attitude of Hamlet when the ghost appears,
exclaimed in theatrical accent,
Angels and ministers of grace defend us!
Art thou a spirit of grace, or goblin damn'd?
As he seemed to bend his eye on vacancy, the captain began to think that
he really saw something preternatural, and stared wildly round. Then
addressing himself to the terrified Dawdle, "D--n'd," said he, "for what
should I be d--n'd? If you are afeard of goblins, brother, put your
trust in the Lord, and he'll prove a sheet-anchor to you." The other
having by this time recollected himself perfectly, continued
notwithstanding to spout tragedy, and, in the words of Macbeth,
pronounced,
What man dare, I dare:
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or Hyrcanian tiger;
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble.
"'Ware names, Jack," cried the impatient mariner, "if so be as how you'll
bear a hand and rig yourself, and take a short trip with me into the
offing, we'll overhaul this here affair in the turning of a capstan."
At this juncture they were joined by Mr. Sycamore in his night-gown and
slippers. Disturbed by Crowe's first salute, he sprung up, and now
expressed no small astonishment at first sight of the novice's
countenance. After having gazed alternately at him and Dawdle, "Who have
we got here?" said he; "raw head and bloody bones?" When his friend,
slipping on his clothes, gave him to understand that this was a friend of
Sir Launcelot Greaves, and explained the purport of his errand, he
treated him with more civility. He assured him that he should have the
pleasure to break a spear with Mr. Dawdle; and signified his surprise
that Sir Launcelot had made no answer to his letter. It being by this
time clear daylight, and Crowe extremely interested in this affair, he
broke without ceremony into the knight's chamber, and told him abruptly
that the enemy had brought to, and waited for his coming up, in order to
begin the action. "I've hailed his consort," said he, "a shambling,
chattering fellow. He took me first for a hobgoblin, then called me
names, a tiger, a wrynoseo'ross, and a Persian bear; but egad, if I come
athwart him, I'll make him look like the bear and ragged staff before we
part,--I wool."
This intimation was not received with that alacrity which the captain
expected to find in our adventurer, who told him in a peremptory tone,
that he had no design to come to action, and desired to be left to his
repose. Crowe forthwith retired crestfallen, and muttered something,
which was never distinctly heard.
About eight in the morning Mr. Dawdle brought him a formal message from
the knight of the Griffin, desiring he would appoint the lists, and give
security of the field. To which request he made answer in a very
composed and solemn accent, "If the person who sent you thinks I have
injured him, let him without disguise or any such ridiculous ceremony,
explain the nature of the wrong; and then I shall give such satisfaction
as may suit my conscience and my character. If he hath bestowed his
affection upon any particular object, and looks upon me as a favourite
rival, I shall not wrong the lady so much as to take any step that may
prejudice her choice, especially a step that contradicts my own reason as
much as it would outrage the laws of my country. If he who calls himself
knight of the Griffin is really desirous of treading in the paths of true
chivalry, he will not want opportunities of signalising his valour in the
cause of virtue.--Should he, notwithstanding this declaration, offer
violence to me in the course of my occasions, he will always find me in a
posture of defence. Or, should he persist in repeating his
importunities, I shall without ceremony chastise the messenger." His
declining the combat was interpreted into fear by Mr. Sycamore, who now
became more insolent and ferocious, on the supposition of our knight's
timidity. Sir Launcelot meanwhile went to breakfast with his friends,
and, having put on his armour, ordered the horses to be brought forth.
Then he paid the bill, and walking deliberately to the gate, in presence
of Squire Sycamore and his attendants, vaulted at one spring into the
saddle of Bronzomarte, whose neighing and curveting proclaimed the joy he
felt in being mounted by his accomplished master.