The Adventures of Roderick Random

Having paid our bill, we adjourned to the coffee-room, where my fellow-labourer insisted on treating me with a dish, giving me to understand, at the same time, that I had acquired his good opinion, both with respect to my principles and understanding. I thanked him for his compliment, and, professing myself an utter stranger in this part of the world, begged he would have the goodness to inform me of the quality and characters of the people who dined above. This request was a real favour to one of his disposition, which was no less communicative than curious; he therefore complied with great satisfaction, and told me, to my extreme astonishment, that the supposed young prince was a dancer at one of the theatres, and the ambassador no other than a fiddler belonging to the opera. “The doctor,” said he “is a Roman Catholic priest, who sometimes appears in the character of an officer, and assumes the name of captain; but more generally takes the garb, title, and behaviour of a physician, in which capacity he wheedles himself into the confidence of weak-minded people, and by arguments no less specious than false, converts them from their religion and allegiance. He has been in the hands of justice more than once for such practices, but he is a sly dog, and manages matters with so much craft, that hitherto he has escaped for a short imprisonment. As for the general, you may see he has owed his promotion more to his interest than his capacity; and, now that the eyes of the ministry are opened, his friends dead or become inconsiderable, he is struck off the list, and obliged to put up with a yearly pension. In consequence of this reduction, he is become malcontent, and inveighs against the government in all companies, with so little discretion, that I am surprised at the lenity of the administration, in overlooking his insolence, but the truth of the matter is, he owes his safety to his weakness and want of importance. He has seen a little, and but a little, service, and yet, if you will take his word to it, there has not been a great action performed in the field since the Revolution, in which he was not principally concerned. When a story is told of any great general, he immediately matches it with one of himself, though he is often unhappy in his invention, and commits such gross blunders in the detail, that everybody is in pain for him. Caesar, Pompey, and Alexander the Great, are continually in his mouth; and, as he reads a good deal without any judgment to digest it, his ideas are confused, and his harangues as unintelligible as infinite; for, if once he begin, there is no chance of his leaving off speaking while one person remains to yield attention; therefore the only expedient I know, for putting a stop to his loquacity, is to lay hold of some incongruity he has uttered, and demand an explanation; or ask the meaning of some difficult term that he knows by name; this method will effectually put him to silence, if not to flight, as it happened when I inquired about an epaulement. Had he been acquainted with the signification of that word, his triumph would have been intolerable, and we must have quitted the field first, or been worried with impertinence.”

Having thus gratified my curiosity, the old gentleman began to discover his own, in questions relating to myself, to which I thought proper to return ambiguous answers. “I presume, Sir,” said he, “you have travelled.” I answered, “Yes.” “I dare say you have found it very expensive,” said he. I replied, “To be sure, one cannot travel without money.” “That I know by experience,” said he, “for I myself take a trip to Bath or Tunbridge every season; and one must pay sauce for what he has on the road, as well in other countries as in this. That’s a pretty stone in your ring—give me leave, sir—the French have attained to a wonderful skill in making compositions of this kind. Why, now, this looks almost as well as a diamond.” “Almost as well, Sir!” said I, “Why not altogether? I am sure if you understand anything of jewels, you must perceive, at first sight, that this stone is a real diamond, and that of a very fine water. Take it in your hand and examine it.” He did so with some confusion, and returned it, saying, “I ask your pardon; I see it is a true brilliant of immense value.” I imagined his respect to me increased after this inquiry; therefore to captivate his esteem the more, I told him, I would show him a seal of composition, engraved after a very valuable antique; upon which I pulled out my watch with a rich gold chain, adorned with three seals set in gold, and an opal ring. He viewed each of them with great eagerness, handled the chain, admired the chased case, and observed that the whole must have cost me a vast sum of money. I affected indifference, and replied in a careless manner, “Some trifle of sixty or seventy guineas.” He stared in my face for some time, and then asked if I was an Englishman? I answered in the negative. “You are from Ireland then, Sir, I presume,” said he. I made the same reply. “Oh! perhaps,” said he “you were born in one of our settlements abroad.” I still answered No. He seemed very much surprised, and said, he was sure I was not a foreigner. I made no reply, but left him upon the tenter-hooks of impatient uncertainty. He could not contain his anxiety, but asked pardon for the liberties he had taken and, to encourage me the more to disclose my situation, displayed his own without reserve. “I am,” said he, “a single man, have a considerable annuity, on which I live according to my inclination, and make the ends of the year meet very comfortably. As I have no estate to leave behind, I am not troubled with the importunate officiousness of relations or legacy hunters, and I consider the world as made for me, not me for the world. It is my maxim, therefore, to enjoy it while I can, and let futurity shift for itself.”

While he thus indulged his own talkative vein, and at the same time, no doubt, expected retaliation from me, a young man entered, dressed in black velvet and an enormous tie-wig, with an air in which natural levity and affected solemnity were so jumbled together, that on the whole he appeared a burlesque on all decorum. This ridiculous oddity danced up to the table at which we sat, and, after a thousand grimaces, asked my friend by the name of Mr. Medlar, if we were not engaged upon business. My companion put on a surly countenance, and replied “No great business, doctor—but however—” “Oh! then,” cried the physician; “I must beg your indulgence a little; pray pardon me, gentlemen.” “Sir,” said he, addressing himself to me, “your most humble servant. I hope you will forgive me, sir—I must beg the favour to sit—sir—sir—I have something of consequence to impart to my friend Mr. Medlar—sir, I hope you will excuse my freedom in whispering, sir,” Before I had time to give this complaisant person my permission, Mr. Medlar cried, “I’ll have no whispering—if you have anything to say to me, speak with an audible voice.” The doctor seemed a little disconcerted at this exclamation, and, turning again to me, made a thousand apologies for pretending to make a mystery of anything, a piece of caution which he said was owing to his ignorance of my connection with Mr. Medlar; but now he understood I was a friend, and would communicate what he had to say in my hearing. He then began, after two or three hems, in this manner: “You must know, sir, I am just come from dinner at my Lady Flareit’s (then addressing himself to me), a lady of quality, sir, at whose table I have the honour of dining sometimes. There was Lady Stately and my Lady Larum, and Mrs. Dainty, and Miss Biddy Giggler, upon my word, a very good-natured young lady, with a very pretty fortune sir. There was also my Lord Straddle. Sir John Shrug, and Master Billy Chatter, who is actually a very facetious young gentleman. So, sir, her ladyship seeing me excessively fatigued, for she was the last of fifteen patients (people of distinction, sir) whom I had visited this forenoon, insisted upon my staying dinner, though upon my word I protest I had no appetite; however, in compliance with her ladyship’s request, sir, I sat down, and the conversation turning on different subjects, among other things, Mr Chatter asked very earnestly when I saw Mr. Medlar. I told him I had not had the pleasure of seeing you these nineteen hours and a half; for you may remember, sir, it was nearly about that time; I won’t be positive as to a minute.” “No,” says he, “then I desire you will go to his lodgings immediately after dinner, and see what’s the matter with him, for he must certainly be very bad from having eaten last night such a vast quantity of raw oysters.” The crusty gentleman, who, from the solemnity of his delivery, expected something extraordinary, no sooner heard his conclusion, than he started up in a testy humour, crying, “Pshaw, pshaw! D—n your oysters!” and walked away, after a short compliment of, “Your servant sir,” to me. The doctor got up also, saying, “I vow and protest, upon my word, I am actually amazed;” and followed Mr. Medlar to the bar, which was hard by, where he was paying for his coffee: there he whispered so loud that I could overhear, “Pray who is this gentleman?” His friend replied hastily, “I might have known that before now, if it had not been for your impertinent intrusion,”—and walked off very much disappointed. The ceremonious physician returned immediately and sat down by me, asking a thousand pardons for leaving me alone: and giving me to understand that what he had communicated to Mr. Medlar at the bar, was an affair of the last importance, that would admit of no delay. He then called for some coffee, and launched out into the virtues of that berry, which, he said, in cold phlegmatic constitutions, like his, dried up the superfluous moisture, and braced the relaxed nerves. He told me it was utterly unknown to the ancients; and derived its name from an Arabian word, which I might easily perceive by the sound and termination. From this topic he transferred his disquisitions to the verb drink, which he affirmed was improperly applied to the taking of coffee, inasmuch as people did not drink, but sip or sipple that liquor; that the genuine meaning of drinking is to quench one’s thirst, or commit a debauch by swallowing wine; that the Latin word, which conveyed the same idea, was bibere or potare, and that of the Greeks pinein or poteein, though he was apt to believe they were differently used on different occasions: for example—to drink a vast quantity, or, as the vulgar express it, to drink an ocean of liquor, was in Latin potare, and in Greek poteein; and, on the other hand, to use it moderately, was bibere and pinein;—that this was only a conjecture of his, which, however, seemed to be supported by the word bibulous, which is particularly applied to the pores of the skin, and can only drink a very small quantity of the circumambient moisture, by reason of the smallness of their diameters;—whereas, from the verb poteein is derived the substantive potamos, which signifies a river, or vast quantity of liquor. I could not help smiling at this learned and important investigation; and, to recommend myself the more to my new acquaintance, whose disposition I was by this time well informed of, I observed that, what he alleged, did not, to the best of my remembrance, appear in the writings of the ancients; for Horace uses the words poto and bibo indifferently for the same purpose, as in the twentieth Ode of his first Book.

“Vile potabis modicis sabinum cantharis——Et praelo domitam caleno tu bibes uvam.”

That I had never heard of the verb poteein, but that potamos, potema, and potos, were derived from pino, poso, pepoka, in consequence of which, the Greek poets never use any other word for festal drinking. Homer describes Nestor at his cups in these words,

“Nestora d’ouk elathen iache pinonta perempes.”

And Anacreon mentions it on the same occasion always in every page.

“Pinonti de oinon hedun.Otan pino ton oinon.Opliz’ ego de pino.”

And in a thousand other places. The doctor who doubtless intended by his criticism to give me a high idea of his erudition, was infinitely surprised to find himself schooled by one of my appearance; and after a considerable pause cried, “Upon my word, you are in the right, sir—I find I have not considered this affair with my usual accuracy.” Then, accosting me in Latin, which he spoke very well, the conversation was maintained full two hours, on a variety of subjects, in that language; and indeed he spoke so judiciously, that I was convinced, notwithstanding his whimsical appearance and attention to trifles, that he was a man of extensive knowledge, especially in books; he looked upon me, as I afterwards understood from Mr. Medlar, as a prodigy in learning, and proposed that very night, if I were not engaged, to introduce me to several young gentlemen of fortune and fashion, with whom I had an appointment at the Bedford coffee house.

CHAPTER XLVI

Wagtail introduces me to set of fine Gentlemen with whom I spend the Evening at a Tavern—our Conversation—the Characters of my new Companions—the Doctor is roasted—our Issue of our Debauch

I accepted his offer with pleasure, and we went thither in a hackney coach where I saw a great number of gay figures fluttering about, most of whom spoke to the doctor with great familiarity. Among the rest stood a group of them round the fire whom I immediately knew to be the very persons who had the night before, by their laughing, alarmed my suspicion of the lady who had put herself under my protection. They no sooner perceived me enter with Dr. Wagtail (for that was my companion’s name) than they tittered and whispered one to another, and I was not a little surprised to find that they were the gentlemen to whose acquaintance he designed to recommend me; for, when he observed them together, he to told me who they were, and desired to know by what name he should introduce me. I satisfied him in that particular, and he advanced with great gravity, saying, “Gentlemen, your most obedient servant:—give me leave to introduce my friend Mr. Random to your society.” Then, turning to me, “Mr. Random, this is Mr. Bragwell—Mr. Banter, sir—Mr. Chatter—my friend Mr. Slyboot, and Mr. Ranter sir.” I saluted each of then in order, and when I came to take Mr. Slyboot by the hand, I perceived him thrust his tongue in his cheek, to the no small entertainment of the company; but I did not think proper to take any notice of it on this occasion. Mr. Ranter too (who I afterwards learned was a player) displayed his talents, by mimicking my air, features, and voice, while he returned my compliment: this feat I should not have been so sensible of, had I not seen him behave in the same manner to my friend Wagtail, when he made up to them at first. But for once I let him enjoy the fruits of his dexterity without question or control, resolved however to chastise his insolence at a more convenient opportunity. Mr. Slyboot, guessing I was a stranger, asked if I had been lately in France? and when I answered in the affirmative, inquired if I had seen the Luxembourg Gallery? I told him I had considered it more than once with great attention: upon this a conversion ensued, in which I discovered him to be a painter.

While we were discoursing upon the particulars of this famous performance, I overheard Banter ask Dr. Wagtail, where he had picked up this Mr. Random. To which question the physician answered, “Upon my word, a mighty pretty sort of a gentleman—a man of fortune, sir—he has made the grand tour, and seen the best company in Europe, air.” “What, he told you so, I suppose?” said the other: “I take him to be neither more nor less than a French valet-de-chambre.” “O barbarous, barbarous!” cried the doctor; “this is actually, upon my word, altogether unaccountable. I know all his family perfectly well, sir; he is of the Randoms of the north—a very ancient house sir, and a distant relation of mine.” I was extremely nettled at the conjecture of Mr. Banter, and began to entertain a very indifferent opinion of my company in general; but, as I might possibly by their means acquire a more extensive and agreeable acquaintance, I determined to bear these little mortifications as long as I could without injuring the dignity of my character. After having talked for some time on the weather, plays, politics, and other coffee-house subjects, it was proposed that we should spend the evening at a noted tavern in the neighbourhood, whither we repaired in a body.

Having taken possession of a room, called for French wine, and bespoke supper, the glass went about pretty freely, and the characters of my associates opened upon me more and more. It soon appeared that the doctor was entertained as butt for the painter and player to exercise their wit upon, for the diversion of the company. Mr. Ranter began the game by asking him what was good for a hoarseness, lowness of spirits, and in digestion, for he was troubled with all these complaints to a very great degree. Wagtail immediately undertook to explain the nature of his case, and in a very prolix manner harangued upon prognostics, diagnostics, symptomatics, therapeutics, inanition, and repletion; then calculated the force of the stomach and lungs in their respective operations; ascribed the player’s malady to a disorder in these organs, proceeding from hard drinkings and vociferations, and prescribed a course of stomachics, with abstinence from venery, wine, loud speaking, laughing, singing, coughing, sneezing, or hallooing. “Pah, pah!” cried Ranter, interrupting him, “the remedy is worse than the disease—I wish I knew where to find some tinder water.” “Tinder water!” said the doctor; “Upon my word, I don’t apprehend you, Mr. Ranter.” “Water extracted from tinder,” replied the other, “a universal specific for all distempers incident to man. It was invented by a learned German monk, who, for a valuable consideration, imparted the secret to Paracelsus.” “Pardon me,” cried the painter, “it was first used by Solomon, as appears by a Greek manuscript in his civil handwriting, lately found at the foot of Mount Lebanon, by a peasant who was digging for potatoes—” “Well,” said Wagtail, “in all my vast reading, I never met with such a preparation! neither did I know till this minute, that Solomon understood Greek, or that potatoes grew in Palestine.”

Here Banter interposed, saying, he was surprised that Dr. Wagtail should make the least doubt of Solomon’s understanding Greek, when he is represented to us as the wisest and best-educated prince in the world; and as for potatoes, they were transplanted thither from Ireland, in the time of the Crusade, by some knights of that country. “I profess,” said the doctor, “there is nothing more likely. I would actually give a vast sum for a sight of that manuscript, which must be inestimable; and, if I understood the process, would set about it immediately.” The player assured him the process was very simple—that he must cram a hundred-weight of dry tinder into a glass retort, and, distilling it by the force of animal heat, it would yield half a scruple of insipid water, one drop of which is a full dose. “Upon my integrity!” exclaimed the incredulous doctor, “this is very amazing and extraordinary! that a caput mortuum should yield any water at all. I must own I have always been an enemy to specifics which I thought inconsistent with the nature of the animal economy; but certainly the authority of Solomon is not to be questioned. I wonder where I shall find a glass retort large enough to contain such a vast quantity of tinder, the consumption of which must, undoubtedly, raise the price of paper, or where shall I find animal heat sufficient even to warm such a mass?” Slyboot informed him, that he might have a retort blown for him as big as a church: and, that the easiest method of raising the vapour by animal heat, would be to place it in the middle of an infirmary for feverish patients, who might be upon mattresses around and in contact with it. He had he sooner pronounced these words, than Wagtail exclaimed in a rapture, “An admirable expedient, as I hope to be saved! I will positively put it in practice.”

This simplicity of the physician furnished excellent diversion for the company, who, in their turns, sneered at him in ironical compliments, which his vanity swallowed as the genuine sentiments of their hearts. Mr. Chatter, impatient of so long a silence, now broke out and entertained us with a catalogue of all the people who danced at the last Hampstead assembly, with a most circumstantial account of the dress and ornaments of each, from the lappets of the ladies to the shoe-buckles of the men; concluding with telling Bragwell, that his mistress Melinda was there, and seemed to miss him: and soliciting his company at the next occasion of that kind.

“No, d—mm,” said Bragwell, “I have something else to mind than dangling after a parcel of giddy-headed girls; besides, you know my temper is so unruly, that I am apt to involve myself in scrapes when a woman is concerned. The last time I was there, I had an affair with Tom Trippit.” “Oh! I remember that!” cried Banter; “You lugged out before the ladies; and I commend you for so doing, because you had an opportunity of showing your manhood without running any risk.” “Risk!” said the other with a fierce countenance, “d—n my blood! I fear no risks. I an’t afraid of lugging out against any man that wears a head, d-me! ‘Tis well known that I have drawn blood more than once, and lost some too; but what does that signify?” The player begged this champion to employ him as his second the next time he intended to kill, for he wanted to see a man die of a stab, that he might know how to act such an art the more naturally on the stage. “Die!” replied the hero: “No, by G—! I know better things than to incur the verdict of a Middlesex jury—I should look upon my fencing-master to be an ignorant son of a b—h, if he had not taught me to prick any of my antagonist’s body that I please to disable.” “Oho!” cried Slyboot, “if that be the case, I have a favour to ask. You must know I am employed to paint a Jesus on the cross; and my purpose is to represent him at that point of time when the spear is thrust into his side. Now I should be glad if you would, in my presence, pink some impertinent fellow into convulsions, without endangering his life, that I may have an opportunity of taking a good clever agony from nature: the doctor will direct you where to enter and how far to go, but pray let it be as near the left side as possible.” Wagtail, who took this proposal seriously, observed, that it would be a very difficult matter to penetrate into the left side of the thorax without hurting the heart, and in consequence killing the patient; but he believed it was possible for a man of a very nice hand and exact knowledge of anatomy, to wound the diaphragma somewhere about the skirts, which might induce a singultus, without being attended with death: that he was ready to demonstrate the insertion of that muscle to Mr. Bragwell; but desired to have no concern with the experiment, which might essentially prejudice his reputation, in case of a miscarriage. Bragwell was as much imposed upon by the painter’s waggery as the doctor, and declined engaging in the affair, saying he held a very great regard for Mr. Slyboot, but had laid it down as a maxim, never to fight except when his honour was engaged. A thousand jokes of this kind were uttered; the wine circulated, supper was served in, we ate heartily, returned to the bottle, Bragwell became noisy and troublesome, Banter grew more and more severe, Ranter rehearsed, Slyboot made faces at the whole company, I sang French catches, and Chatter kissed me with great affection; while the doctor, with a wofull countenance, sat silent like a disciple of Pythagoras. At length, it was proposed by Bragwell, that we should scour the hundreds, sweat the constable, maul the watch, and then reel soberly to bed.

While we deliberated upon this expedition, the waiter came into the room, and asked for Doctor Wagtail: when he understood he was present, he told him there was a lady below to inquire for him, at which message the physician started from his melancholy contemplation, and, with a look of extreme confusion, assured the company he could not possibly be the person wanted, for he had no connection with any lady whatever, and bade the drawer tell her so. “For shame!” cried Banter; “would you be so impolite as to refuse a lady a hearing? perhaps she comes for a consultation. It must be some extraordinary affair that brings a lady to a tavern at this time of night. Mr. Ranter, pray do the doctor’s base-mains to the lady, and squire her hither.” The player immediately staggered out, and returned, leading in with much ceremony, a tall strapping wench, whose appearance proclaimed her occupation. We received her with the utmost solemnity, and with a good deal of entreaty she was persuaded to sit, when a profound silence ensued, during which she fixed her eyes, with a disconsolate look, upon the doctor, who was utterly confounded at her behaviour, and returned her melancholy fourfold; at length, after a good many piteous sighs, she wiped her eyes, and accosted him thus: “What! not one word of comfort? Will nothing soften that stony heart of thine? Not all my tears! not all my affliction! not the inevitable ruin thou hast brought upon me! Where are thy vows, thou faithless, perjured man? Hast thou no honour—no conscience—no remorse for thy perfidious conduct towards me? Answer me, wilt thou at last do me justice, or must I have recourse to heaven or hell for my revenge?” If poor Wagtail was amazed before she spoke, what must his confusion be on hearing this address! His natural paleness changed into a ghastly clay colour, his eyes rolled, his lip trembled, and he answered in an accent not to be described, “Upon my word, honour, and salvation, madam, you are actually mistaken in my person. I have a most particular veneration for your sex, and, am actually incapable of injuring any lady in the smallest degree, madam; besides, madam, to the best of my recollection, I never had the honour of seeing you before, as I hope to be saved, madam!” “How, traitor!” cried she, “dost thou disown me then? Mistaken! no, too well I know that fair bewitching face! too well I know that false enchanting tongue! Alas! gentlemen, since the villain compels me by his unkindness, to expose myself and him, know that this betrayer, under the specious pretence of honourable addresses, won my heart, and taking advantage of his conquest, robbed me of my virgin treasure, and afterwards abandoned me to my fate! I am now four months gone with child by him, turned out of doors by my relations, and left a prey to misery and want! Yes, thou barbarian,” said she, turning to Wagtail, “thou tiger, thou succubus! too well thou knowest my situation. But I will tear out thy faithless heart, and deliver the world from such a monster.” So saying, she sprang forward at the doctor, who with incredible agility, jumped over the table, and ran behind Bragwell, while the rest of us endeavoured to appease the furious heroine. Although everybody in the company affected the utmost surprise, I could easily perceive it was a scheme concerted among them to produce diversion at the doctor’s expense, and being under no concern about the consequence, I entered into the confederacy, and enjoyed the distress of Wagtail, who with tears in his eyes begged the protection of the company, declaring himself as innocent of the crime laid to his charge as the foetus in utero; and hinting at the same time, that nature had not put it in his power to be guilty of such a trespass. “Nature!” cried the lady, “there was no nature in the case; he abused me by the help of charms and spells; else how is it possible that any woman could have listened to the addresses of such a scarecrow? Were these owlish eyes made for ogling; that carrion complexion to be admired; or that mouth, like a horse-shoe, to be kissed? No, no, you owe your success to your philtres, to your drugs and incantations; and not to your natural talents, which are, in every respect, mean and contemptible.”