# The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews and his Friend, Mr. Abraham Abrams/Book II, Chapter V

CHAPTER V.
_A dreadful quarrel which happened at the Inn where the company dined,
with its bloody consequences to Mr Adams._
As soon as the passengers had alighted from the coach, Mr Adams, as was
his custom, made directly to the kitchen, where he found Joseph sitting
by the fire, and the hostess anointing his leg; for the horse which Mr
Adams had borrowed of his clerk had so violent a propensity to kneeling,
that one would have thought it had been his trade, as well as his
master's; nor would he always give any notice of such his intention; he
was often found on his knees when the rider least expected it. This
foible, however, was of no great inconvenience to the parson, who was
accustomed to it; and, as his legs almost touched the ground when he
bestrode the beast, had but a little way to fall, and threw himself
forward on such occasions with so much dexterity that he never received
any mischief; the horse and he frequently rolling many paces' distance,
and afterwards both getting up and meeting as good friends as ever.
Poor Joseph, who had not been used to such kind of cattle, though an
excellent horseman, did not so happily disengage himself; but, falling
with his leg under the beast, received a violent contusion, to which the
good woman was, as we have said, applying a warm hand, with some
camphorated spirits, just at the time when the parson entered
the kitchen.
He had scarce expressed his concern for Joseph's misfortune before the
host likewise entered. He was by no means of Mr Tow-wouse's gentle
disposition; and was, indeed, perfect master of his house, and
everything in it but his guests.
This surly fellow, who always proportioned his respect to the appearance
of a traveller, from "God bless your honour," down to plain "Coming
presently," observing his wife on her knees to a footman, cried out,
without considering his circumstances, "What a pox is the woman about?
why don't you mind the company in the coach? Go and ask them what they
will have for dinner." "My dear," says she, "you know they can have
nothing but what is at the fire, which will be ready presently; and
really the poor young man's leg is very much bruised." At which words
she fell to chafing more violently than before: the bell then happening
to ring, he damn'd his wife, and bid her go in to the company, and not
stand rubbing there all day, for he did not believe the young fellow's
leg was so bad as he pretended; and if it was, within twenty miles he
would find a surgeon to cut it off. Upon these words, Adams fetched two
strides across the room; and snapping his fingers over his head,
muttered aloud, He would excommunicate such a wretch for a farthing, for
he believed the devil had more humanity. These words occasioned a
dialogue between Adams and the host, in which there were two or three
sharp replies, till Joseph bad the latter know how to behave himself to
his betters. At which the host (having first strictly surveyed Adams)
scornfully repeating the word "betters," flew into a rage, and, telling
Joseph he was as able to walk out of his house as he had been to walk
into it, offered to lay violent hands on him; which perceiving, Adams
dealt him so sound a compliment over his face with his fist, that the
blood immediately gushed out of his nose in a stream. The host, being
unwilling to be outdone in courtesy, especially by a person of Adams's
figure, returned the favour with so much gratitude, that the parson's
nostrils began to look a little redder than usual. Upon which he again
assailed his antagonist, and with another stroke laid him sprawling on
the floor.
The hostess, who was a better wife than so surly a husband deserved,
seeing her husband all bloody and stretched along, hastened presently to
his assistance, or rather to revenge the blow, which, to all appearance,
was the last he would ever receive; when, lo! a pan full of hog's blood,
which unluckily stood on the dresser, presented itself first to her
hands. She seized it in her fury, and without any reflection, discharged
it into the parson's face; and with so good an aim, that much the
greater part first saluted his countenance, and trickled thence in so
large a current down to his beard, and over his garments, that a more
horrible spectacle was hardly to be seen, or even imagined. All which
was perceived by Mrs Slipslop, who entered the kitchen at that instant.
This good gentlewoman, not being of a temper so extremely cool and
patient as perhaps was required to ask many questions on this occasion,
flew with great impetuosity at the hostess's cap, which, together with
some of her hair, she plucked from her head in a moment, giving her, at
the same time, several hearty cuffs in the face; which by frequent
practice on the inferior servants, she had learned an excellent knack of
delivering with a good grace. Poor Joseph could hardly rise from his
chair; the parson was employed in wiping the blood from his eyes, which
had entirely blinded him; and the landlord was but just beginning to
stir; whilst Mrs Slipslop, holding down the landlady's face with her
left hand, made so dexterous an use of her right, that the poor woman
began to roar, in a key which alarmed all the company in the inn.
There happened to be in the inn, at this time, besides the ladies who
arrived in the stage-coach, the two gentlemen who were present at Mr
Tow-wouse's when Joseph was detained for his horse's meat, and whom we
have before mentioned to have stopt at the alehouse with Adams. There
was likewise a gentleman just returned from his travels to Italy; all
whom the horrid outcry of murder presently brought into the kitchen,
where the several combatants were found in the postures already
described.
It was now no difficulty to put an end to the fray, the conquerors being
satisfied with the vengeance they had taken, and the conquered having no
appetite to renew the fight. The principal figure, and which engaged the
eyes of all, was Adams, who was all over covered with blood, which the
whole company concluded to be his own, and consequently imagined him no
longer for this world. But the host, who had now recovered from his
blow, and was risen from the ground, soon delivered them from this
apprehension, by damning his wife for wasting the hog's puddings, and
telling her all would have been very well if she had not intermeddled,
like a b--as she was; adding, he was very glad the gentlewoman had paid
her, though not half what she deserved. The poor woman had indeed fared
much the worst; having, besides the unmerciful cuffs received, lost a
quantity of hair, which Mrs Slipslop in triumph held in her left hand.
The traveller, addressing himself to Mrs Grave-airs, desired her not to
be frightened; for here had been only a little boxing, which he said, to
their _disgracia_, the English were _accustomata_ to: adding, it must
be, however, a sight somewhat strange to him, who was just come from
Italy; the Italians not being addicted to the _cuffardo_ but _bastonza_,
says he. He then went up to Adams, and telling him he looked like the
ghost of Othello, bid him not shake his gory locks at him, for he could
not say he did it. Adams very innocently answered, "Sir, I am far from
accusing you." He then returned to the lady, and cried, "I find the
bloody gentleman is _uno insipido del nullo senso_. _Dammato di me_, if
I have seen such a _spectaculo_ in my way from Viterbo."
One of the gentlemen having learnt from the host the occasion of this
bustle, and being assured by him that Adams had struck the first blow,
whispered in his ear, "He'd warrant he would recover."--"Recover!
master," said the host, smiling: "yes, yes, I am not afraid of dying
with a blow or two neither; I am not such a chicken as that."--"Pugh!"
said the gentleman, "I mean you will recover damages in that action
which, undoubtedly, you intend to bring, as soon as a writ can be
returned from London; for you look like a man of too much spirit and
courage to suffer any one to beat you without bringing your action
against him: he must be a scandalous fellow indeed who would put up with
a drubbing whilst the law is open to revenge it; besides, he hath drawn
blood from you, and spoiled your coat; and the jury will give damages
for that too. An excellent new coat upon my word; and now not worth a
shilling! I don't care," continued he, "to intermeddle in these cases;
but you have a right to my evidence; and if I am sworn, I must speak the
truth. I saw you sprawling on the floor, and blood gushing from your
nostrils. You may take your own opinion; but was I in your
circumstances, every drop of my blood should convey an ounce of gold
into my pocket: remember I don't advise you to go to law; but if your
jury were Christians, they must give swinging damages. That's
all."--"Master," cried the host, scratching his head, "I have no stomach
to law, I thank you. I have seen enough of that in the parish, where two
of my neighbours have been at law about a house, till they have both
lawed themselves into a gaol." At which words he turned about, and began
to inquire again after his hog's puddings; nor would it probably have
been a sufficient excuse for his wife, that she spilt them in his
defence, had not some awe of the company, especially of the Italian
traveller, who was a person of great dignity, withheld his rage.
Whilst one of the above-mentioned gentlemen was employed, as we have
seen him, on the behalf of the landlord, the other was no less hearty on
the side of Mr Adams, whom he advised to bring his action immediately.
He said the assault of the wife was in law the assault of the husband,
for they were but one person; and he was liable to pay damages, which he
said must be considerable, where so bloody a disposition appeared. Adams
answered, If it was true that they were but one person, he had assaulted
the wife; for he was sorry to own he had struck the husband the first
blow. "I am sorry you own it too," cries the gentleman; "for it could
not possibly appear to the court; for here was no evidence present but
the lame man in the chair, whom I suppose to be your friend, and would
consequently say nothing but what made for you."--"How, sir," says
Adams, "do you take me for a villain, who would prosecute revenge in
cold blood, and use unjustifiable means to obtain it? If you knew me,
and my order, I should think you affronted both." At the word order, the
gentleman stared (for he was too bloody to be of any modern order of
knights); and, turning hastily about, said, "Every man knew his own
business."
Matters being now composed, the company retired to their several
apartments; the two gentlemen congratulating each other on the success
of their good offices in procuring a perfect reconciliation between the
contending parties; and the traveller went to his repast, crying, "As
the Italian poet says--
The coachman began now to grow importunate with his passengers, whose
entrance into the coach was retarded by Miss Grave-airs insisting,
against the remonstrance of all the rest, that she would not admit a
footman into the coach; for poor Joseph was too lame to mount a horse. A
young lady, who was, as it seems, an earl's grand-daughter, begged it
with almost tears in her eyes. Mr Adams prayed, and Mrs Slipslop
scolded; but all to no purpose. She said, "She would not demean herself
to ride with a footman: that there were waggons on the road: that if the
master of the coach desired it, she would pay for two places; but would
suffer no such fellow to come in."--"Madam," says Slipslop, "I am sure
no one can refuse another coming into a stage-coach."--"I don't know,
madam," says the lady; "I am not much used to stage-coaches; I seldom
travel in them."--"That may be, madam," replied Slipslop; "very good
people do; and some people's betters, for aught I know." Miss Grave-airs
said, "Some folks might sometimes give their tongues a liberty, to some
people that were their betters, which did not become them; for her part,
she was not used to converse with servants." Slipslop returned, "Some
people kept no servants to converse with; for her part, she thanked
Heaven she lived in a family where there were a great many, and had more
under her own command than any paultry little gentlewoman in the
kingdom." Miss Grave-airs cried, "She believed her mistress would not
encourage such sauciness to her betters."--"My betters," says Slipslop,
"who is my betters, pray?"--"I am your betters," answered Miss
Grave-airs, "and I'll acquaint your mistress."--At which Mrs Slipslop
laughed aloud, and told her, "Her lady was one of the great gentry; and
such little paultry gentlewomen as some folks, who travelled in
stagecoaches, would not easily come at her."
This smart dialogue between some people and some folks was going on at
the coach door when a solemn person, riding into the inn, and seeing
Miss Grave-airs, immediately accosted her with "Dear child, how do you?"
She presently answered, "O papa, I am glad you have overtaken me."--"So
am I," answered he; "for one of our coaches is just at hand; and, there
being room for you in it, you shall go no farther in the stage unless
you desire it."--"How can you imagine I should desire it?" says she; so,
bidding Slipslop ride with her fellow, if she pleased, she took her
father by the hand, who was just alighted, and walked with him into
a room.
Adams instantly asked the coachman, in a whisper, "If he knew who the
gentleman was?" The coachman answered, "He was now a gentleman, and kept
his horse and man; but times are altered, master," said be; "I remember
when he was no better born than myself."--"Ay! ay!" says Adams. "My
father drove the squire's coach," answered he, "when that very man rode
postillion; but he is now his steward; and a great gentleman." Adams
then snapped his fingers, and cried, "He thought she was some
such trollop."
Adams made haste to acquaint Mrs Slipslop with this good news, as he
imagined it; but it found a reception different from what he expected.
The prudent gentlewoman, who despised the anger of Miss Grave-airs
whilst she conceived her the daughter of a gentleman of small fortune,
now she heard her alliance with the upper servants of a great family in
her neighbourhood, began to fear her interest with the mistress. She
wished she had not carried the dispute so far, and began to think of
endeavouring to reconcile herself to the young lady before she left the
inn; when, luckily, the scene at London, which the reader can scarce
have forgotten, presented itself to her mind, and comforted her with
such assurance, that she no longer apprehended any enemy with
her mistress.
Everything being now adjusted, the company entered the coach, which was
just on its departure, when one lady recollected she had left her fan, a
second her gloves, a third a snuff-box, and a fourth a smelling-bottle
behind her; to find all which occasioned some delay and much swearing to
the coachman.
As soon as the coach had left the inn, the women all together fell to
the character of Miss Grave-airs; whom one of them declared she had
suspected to be some low creature, from the beginning of their journey,
and another affirmed she had not even the looks of a gentlewoman: a
third warranted she was no better than she should be; and, turning to
the lady who had related the story in the coach, said, "Did you ever
hear, madam, anything so prudish as her remarks? Well, deliver me from
the censoriousness of such a prude." The fourth added, "O madam! all
these creatures are censorious; but for my part, I wonder where the
wretch was bred; indeed, I must own I have seldom conversed with these
mean kind of people, so that it may appear stranger to me; but to refuse
the general desire of a whole company had something in it so
astonishing, that, for my part, I own I should hardly believe it if my
own ears had not been witnesses to it."--"Yes, and so handsome a young
fellow," cries Slipslop; "the woman must have no compulsion in her: I
believe she is more of a Turk than a Christian; I am certain, if she had
any Christian woman's blood in her veins, the sight of such a young
fellow must have warmed it. Indeed, there are some wretched, miserable
old objects, that turn one's stomach; I should not wonder if she had
refused such a one; I am as nice as herself, and should have cared no
more than herself for the company of stinking old fellows; but, hold up
thy head, Joseph, thou art none of those; and she who hath not
compulsion for thee is a Myhummetman, and I will maintain it." This
conversation made Joseph uneasy as well as the ladies; who, perceiving
the spirits which Mrs Slipslop was in (for indeed she was not a cup too
low), began to fear the consequence; one of them therefore desired the
lady to conclude the story. "Aye, madam," said Slipslop, "I beg your
ladyship to give us that story you commensated in the morning;" which
request that well-bred woman immediately complied with.