Tobias Smollett - The Adventures of Roderick Random

The discourse gave me such a high notion of the captain and his lady that I durst not venture to join in the conversation; but immediately after another female voice began: “Some people give themselves a great many needless airs; better folks than any here have travelled in waggons before now. Some of us have rode in coaches and chariots, with three footmen behind them, without making so much fuss about it. What then? We are now all upon a footing; therefore let us be sociable and merry. What do you say, Isaac? Is not this a good motion, you doting rogue? Speak, you old cent per cent fornicator? What desperate debt are you thinking of? What mortgage are you planning? Well, Isaac, positively you shall never gain my favour till you turn over a new leaf, grow honest, and live like a gentleman. In the meantime give me a kiss, you old fumbler.” These words, accompanied with a hearty smack, enlivened the person to whom they were addressed to such a degree that he cried, in transport, though with a faltering voice, “Ah! you wanton baggage—upon my credit, you are a waggish girl—he, he, he!” This laugh introduced a fit of coughing, which almost suffocated the poor usurer (such we afterwards found was the profession of this our fellow-traveller).

About this time I fell asleep, and enjoyed a comfortable nap till such time as we arrived at the inn where we put up. Here, having alighted from the waggon, I had an opportunity of viewing the passengers in order as they entered. The first who appeared was a brisk, airy girl, about twenty years old, with a silver-laced hat on her head instead of a cap, a blue stuff riding-suit, trimmed with silver very much tarnished, and a whip in her hand. After her came, limping, an old man, with a worsted nightcap buttoned under his chin, and a broad-brimmed hat slouched over it, an old rusty blue cloak tied about his neck, under which appeared a brown surtout, that covered a threadbare coat and waistcoat, and, as he afterwards discerned, a dirty flannel jacket. His eyes were hollow, bleared, and gummy; his face was shrivelled into a thousand wrinkles, his gums were destitute of teeth, his nose sharp and drooping, his chin peaked and prominent, so that, when he mumped or spoke, they approached one another like a pair of nutcrackers: he supported himself on an ivory-headed cane and his whole figure was a just emblem of winter, famine, and avarice. But how was I surprised, when I beheld the formidable captain in the shape of a little thin creature, about the age of forty, with a long withered visage, very much resembling that of a baboon, through the upper part of which two little gray eyes peeped: he wore his own hair in a queue that reached to his rump, which immoderate length, I suppose, was the occasion of a baldness that appeared on the crown of his head when he deigned to take off his hat, which was very much of the size and cock of Pistol’s.

Having laid aside his great-coat, I could not help admiring the extraordinary make of this man of war: he was about five feet and three inches high, sixteen inches of which went to his face and long scraggy neck: his thighs were about six inches in length, his legs resembling spindles or drumsticks, five feet and a half, and his body, which put me in mind of extension without substance, engrossed the remainder: so that on the whole, he appeared like a spider or grasshopper erect, and was almost a vox et praeterea nihil. His dress consisted of a frock of what is called bearskin, the skirts of which were about half a foot long, an hussar waistcoat, scarlet breeches reaching half way down his thighs, worsted stockings rolled up almost to his groin, and shoes with wooden heels at least two inches high; he carried a sword very near as long as himself in one hand, and with the other conducted his lady, who seemed to be a woman of his own age, and still retained some remains of an agreeable person, but so ridiculously affected, that, had I not been a novice in the world, I might have easily perceived in her the deplorable vanity and second-hand airs of a lady’s woman.

We were all assembled in the kitchen, when Captain Weazel (for that was his name) desired a room with a fire for himself and spouse, and told the landlord they would up by themselves. The innkeeper replied that he could not afford them a room by themselves; and as for supping, he had prepared victuals for the passengers in the waggon, without respect of persons, but if he could prevail on the rest to let him have his choice in a separate manner, he should be very well pleased. This was no sooner said than all of us declared against the proposal, and Miss Jenny (our other female passenger), observed that, if Captain Weazel and his lady had a mind to sup by themselves, they might wait until we should have done. At this hint the captain put on a martial frown, and looked very big, without speaking; while his yokefellow, with a disdainful toss of her nose, muttered something about “Creature!” which Miss Jenny overhearing, stepped up to her, saying, “None of your names, good Mrs. Abigail. Creature, quotha—I’ll assure you no such creature as you neither—no ten-pound sneaker—no quality-coupler.” Here the captain interposed, with a “D—e, madam, what do you mean by that?” “D—n you sir, who are you?” replied Miss Jenny, “who made you a captain, you pitiful, trencher-scraping, pimping curler? ‘Sdeath! the army is come to a fine pass, when such fellows as you get commissions. What, I suppose you think I don’t know you? Egad, you and your helpmate are well met—a cast-off mistress and a bald valet-de-chambre are well yoked together.” “Blood and wounds!” cried Weazel, “d’ye question the honour of my wife, madam? Hell and d-ion! No man in England durst say so much—I would flay him, carbonado him! Fury and destruction! I would have his liver for my supper.” So saying, he drew his sword and flourished with it, to the great terror of Strap; while Miss Jenny, snapping her fingers, told him she did not value his resentment a louse.

In the midst of this quarrel the master of the waggon alighted, who, understanding the cause of the disturbance, and fearing the captain and his lady would take umbrage and leave his carriage, was at great pains to have everything made up, which he at last accomplished, and we sat down to supper altogether. At bedtime we were shown to our apartments; the old usurer, Strap, and I, to one room; the captain, his wife, and Miss Jenny, to another. About midnight, my companion’s bowels being disordered, he got up, in order to go backward, but in his return, mistaking one door for another, entered Weazel’s chamber, and without any hesitation went to bed to his wife, who was fast asleep, the captain being at another end of the room groping for some empty vessel, in lieu of his own chamberpot, which was leaky: as he did not perceive Strap coming in, he went towards his own bed, after having found a convenience; but no sooner did he feel a rough head, covered with a cotton nightcap, than it came into his mind that he had mistaken Miss Jenny’s bed instead of his own, and that the head he felt was that of some gallant, with whom she had made an assignation. Full of his conjecture, and scandalised at the prostitution of his apartment, he snatched up the vessel he had just before filled, and emptied it at once on the astonished barber and his own wife, who waking at that instant, broke forth into lamentable cries, which not only alarmed the husband beyond measure, but frighted poor Strap almost out of his senses; for he verily believed himself bewitched, especially when the incensed captain seized him by the throat, with a volley of oaths, asking him how he durst have the presumption to attempt the chastity of his wife. Poor Strap was so amazed and confounded, that he could say nothing but—“I take God to witness she’s a virgin for me.”