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

CHAPTER I.
_The arrival of Lady Booby and the rest at Booby-hall._
The coach and six, in which Lady Booby rode, overtook the other
travellers as they entered the parish. She no sooner saw Joseph than her
cheeks glowed with red, and immediately after became as totally pale.
She had in her surprize almost stopt her coach; but recollected herself
timely enough to prevent it. She entered the parish amidst the ringing
of bells and the acclamations of the poor, who were rejoiced to see
their patroness returned after so long an absence, during which time all
her rents had been drafted to London, without a shilling being spent
among them, which tended not a little to their utter impoverishing; for,
if the court would be severely missed in such a city as London, how much
more must the absence of a person of great fortune be felt in a little
country village, for whose inhabitants such a family finds a constant
employment and supply; and with the offals of whose table the infirm,
aged, and infant poor are abundantly fed, with a generosity which hath
scarce a visible effect on their benefactors' pockets!
But, if their interest inspired so public a joy into every
countenance, how much more forcibly did the affection which they bore
parson Adams operate upon all who beheld his return! They flocked
about him like dutiful children round an indulgent parent, and vyed
with each other in demonstrations of duty and love. The parson on his
side shook every one by the hand, enquired heartily after the healths
of all that were absent, of their children, and relations; and exprest
a satisfaction in his face which nothing but benevolence made happy by
its objects could infuse.
Nor did Joseph and Fanny want a hearty welcome from all who saw them. In
short, no three persons could be more kindly received, as, indeed, none
ever more deserved to be universally beloved.
Adams carried his fellow-travellers home to his house, where he insisted
on their partaking whatever his wife, whom, with his children, he found
in health and joy, could provide:--where we shall leave them enjoying
perfect happiness over a homely meal, to view scenes of greater
splendour, but infinitely less bliss.
Our more intelligent readers will doubtless suspect, by this second
appearance of Lady Booby on the stage, that all was not ended by the
dismission of Joseph; and, to be honest with them, they are in the
right: the arrow had pierced deeper than she imagined; nor was the wound
so easily to be cured. The removal of the object soon cooled her rage,
but it had a different effect on her love; that departed with his
person, but this remained lurking in her mind with his image. Restless,
interrupted slumbers, and confused horrible dreams were her portion the
first night. In the morning, fancy painted her a more delicious scene;
but to delude, not delight her; for, before she could reach the promised
happiness, it vanished, and left her to curse, not bless, the vision.
She started from her sleep, her imagination being all on fire with the
phantom, when, her eyes accidentally glancing towards the spot where
yesterday the real Joseph had stood, that little circumstance raised his
idea in the liveliest colours in her memory. Each look, each word, each
gesture rushed back on her mind with charms which all his coldness could
not abate. Nay, she imputed that to his youth, his folly, his awe, his
religion, to everything but what would instantly have produced contempt,
want of passion for the sex, or that which would have roused her hatred,
want of liking to her.
Reflection then hurried her farther, and told her she must see this
beautiful youth no more; nay, suggested to her that she herself had
dismissed him for no other fault than probably that of too violent an
awe and respect for herself; and which she ought rather to have esteemed
a merit, the effects of which were besides so easily and surely to have
been removed; she then blamed, she cursed the hasty rashness of her
temper; her fury was vented all on herself, and Joseph appeared innocent
in her eyes. Her passion at length grew so violent, that it forced her
on seeking relief, and now she thought of recalling him: but pride
forbad that; pride, which soon drove all softer passions from her soul,
and represented to her the meanness of him she was fond of. That thought
soon began to obscure his beauties; contempt succeeded next, and then
disdain, which presently introduced her hatred of the creature who had
given her so much uneasiness. These enemies of Joseph had no sooner
taken possession of her mind than they insinuated to her a thousand
things in his disfavour; everything but dislike of her person; a thought
which, as it would have been intolerable to bear, she checked the moment
it endeavoured to arise. Revenge came now to her assistance; and she
considered her dismission of him, stript, and without a character, with
the utmost pleasure. She rioted in the several kinds of misery which her
imagination suggested to her might be his fate; and, with a smile
composed of anger, mirth, and scorn, viewed him in the rags in which her
fancy had drest him.
Mrs Slipslop, being summoned, attended her mistress, who had now in her
own opinion totally subdued this passion. Whilst she was dressing she
asked if that fellow had been turned away according to her orders.
Slipslop answered, she had told her ladyship so (as indeed she
had).--"And how did he behave?" replied the lady. "Truly, madam," cries
Slipslop, "in such a manner that infected everybody who saw him. The
poor lad had but little wages to receive; for he constantly allowed his
father and mother half his income; so that, when your ladyship's livery
was stript off, he had not wherewithal to buy a coat, and must have gone
naked if one of the footmen had not incommodated him with one; and
whilst he was standing in his shirt (and, to say truth, he was an
amorous figure), being told your ladyship would not give him a
character, he sighed, and said he had done nothing willingly to offend;
that for his part, he should always give your ladyship a good character
wherever he went; and he prayed God to bless you; for you was the best
of ladies, though his enemies had set you against him. I wish you had
not turned him away; for I believe you have not a faithfuller servant in
the house."--"How came you then," replied the lady, "to advise me to
turn him away?"--"I, madam!" said Slipslop; "I am sure you will do me
the justice to say, I did all in my power to prevent it; but I saw your
ladyship was angry; and it is not the business of us upper servants to
hinterfear on these occasions." "And was it not you, audacious wretch!"
cried the lady, "who made me angry? Was it not your tittle-tattle, in
which I believe you belyed the poor fellow, which incensed me against
him? He may thank you for all that hath happened; and so may I for the
loss of a good servant, and one who probably had more merit than all of
you. Poor fellow! I am charmed with his goodness to his parents. Why did
not you tell me of that, but suffer me to dismiss so good a creature
without a character? I see the reason of your whole behaviour now as
well as your complaint; you was jealous of the wenches." "I jealous!"
said Slipslop; "I assure you, I look upon myself as his betters; I am
not meat for a footman, I hope." These words threw the lady into a
violent passion, and she sent Slipslop from her presence, who departed,
tossing her nose, and crying, "Marry, come up! there are some people
more jealous than I, I believe." Her lady affected not to hear the
words, though in reality she did, and understood them too. Now ensued a
second conflict, so like the former, that it might savour of repetition
to relate it minutely. It may suffice to say that Lady Booby found good
reason to doubt whether she had so absolutely conquered her passion as
she had flattered herself; and, in order to accomplish it quite, took a
resolution, more common than wise, to retire immediately into the
country. The reader hath long ago seen the arrival of Mrs Slipslop, whom
no pertness could make her mistress resolve to part with; lately, that
of Mr Pounce, her forerunners; and, lastly, that of the lady herself.
The morning after her arrival being Sunday, she went to church, to the
great surprize of everybody, who wondered to see her ladyship, being no
very constant church-woman, there so suddenly upon her journey. Joseph
was likewise there; and I have heard it was remarked that she fixed her
eyes on him much more than on the parson; but this I believe to be only
a malicious rumour. When the prayers were ended Mr Adams stood up, and
with a loud voice pronounced, "I publish the banns of marriage between
Joseph Andrews and Frances Goodwill, both of this parish," &c. Whether
this had any effect on Lady Booby or no, who was then in her pew, which
the congregation could not see into, I could never discover: but
certain it is that in about a quarter of an hour she stood up, and
directed her eyes to that part of the church where the women sat, and
persisted in looking that way during the remainder of the sermon in so
scrutinizing a manner, and with so angry a countenance, that most of
the women were afraid she was offended at them. The moment she returned
home she sent for Slipslop into her chamber, and told her she wondered
what that impudent fellow Joseph did in that parish? Upon which
Slipslop gave her an account of her meeting Adams with him on the road,
and likewise the adventure with Fanny. At the relation of which the
lady often changed her countenance; and when she had heard all, she
ordered Mr Adams into her presence, to whom she behaved as the reader
will see in the next chapter.