BOOK X. IN WHICH THE HISTORY GOES FORWARD ABOUT TWELVE HOURS.
9. Chapter ix. The escape of Sophia.
(continued)
Here Honour, being again charged with a commission of enquiry, had no
sooner applied herself to the landlady, and had described the person
of Mr Jones, than that sagacious woman began, in the vulgar phrase, to
smell a rat. When Sophia therefore entered the room, instead of
answering the maid, the landlady, addressing herself to the mistress,
began the following speech: "Good lack-a-day! why there now, who would
have thought it? I protest the loveliest couple that ever eye beheld.
I-fackins, madam, it is no wonder the squire run on so about your
ladyship. He told me indeed you was the finest lady in the world, and
to be sure so you be. Mercy on him, poor heart! I bepitied him, so I
did, when he used to hug his pillow, and call it his dear Madam
Sophia. I did all I could to dissuade him from going to the wars: I
told him there were men enow that were good for nothing else but to be
killed, that had not the love of such fine ladies." "Sure," says
Sophia, "the good woman is distracted." "No, no," cries the landlady,
"I am not distracted. What, doth your ladyship think I don't know
then? I assure you he told me all." "What saucy fellow," cries Honour,
"told you anything of my lady?" "No saucy fellow," answered the
landlady, "but the young gentleman you enquired after, and a very
pretty young gentleman he is, and he loves Madam Sophia Western to the
bottom of his soul." "He love my lady! I'd have you to know, woman,
she is meat for his master."--"Nay, Honour," said Sophia, interrupting
her, "don't be angry with the good woman; she intends no harm." "No,
marry, don't I," answered the landlady, emboldened by the soft accents
of Sophia; and then launched into a long narrative too tedious to be
here set down, in which some passages dropt that gave a little offence
to Sophia, and much more to her waiting-woman, who hence took occasion
to abuse poor Jones to her mistress the moment they were alone
together, saying, "that he must be a very pitiful fellow, and could
have no love for a lady, whose name he would thus prostitute in an
ale-house."
Sophia did not see his behaviour in so very disadvantageous a light,
and was perhaps more pleased with the violent raptures of his love
(which the landlady exaggerated as much as she had done every other
circumstance) than she was offended with the rest; and indeed she
imputed the whole to the extravagance, or rather ebullience, of his
passion, and to the openness of his heart.