BOOK IV. CONTAINING THE TIME OF A YEAR.
8. Chapter viii. A battle sung by the muse...
(continued)
Having scoured the whole coast of the enemy, as well as any of Homer's
heroes ever did, or as Don Quixote or any knight-errant in the world
could have done, he returned to Molly, whom he found in a condition
which must give both me and my reader pain, was it to be described
here. Tom raved like a madman, beat his breast, tore his hair, stamped
on the ground, and vowed the utmost vengeance on all who had been
concerned. He then pulled off his coat, and buttoned it round her, put
his hat upon her head, wiped the blood from her face as well as he
could with his handkerchief, and called out to the servant to ride as
fast as possible for a side-saddle, or a pillion, that he might carry
her safe home.
Master Blifil objected to the sending away the servant, as they had
only one with them; but as Square seconded the order of Jones, he was
obliged to comply.
The servant returned in a very short time with the pillion, and Molly,
having collected her rags as well as she could, was placed behind him.
In which manner she was carried home, Square, Blifil, and Jones
attending.
Here Jones having received his coat, given her a sly kiss, and
whispered her, that he would return in the evening, quitted his Molly,
and rode on after his companions.
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