The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews and his Friend, Mr. Abraham Abrams/Book II, Chapter XI

CHAPTER XI.

_What happened to them while before the justice. A chapter very full of

learning._

Their fellow-travellers were so engaged in the hot dispute concerning

the division of the reward for apprehending these innocent people, that

they attended very little to their discourse. They were now arrived at

the justice's house, and had sent one of his servants in to acquaint his

worship that they had taken two robbers and brought them before him. The

justice, who was just returned from a fox-chase, and had not yet

finished his dinner, ordered them to carry the prisoners into the

stable, whither they were attended by all the servants in the house, and

all the people in the neighbourhood, who flocked together to see them

with as much curiosity as if there was something uncommon to be seen, or

that a rogue did not look like other people.

The justice, now being in the height of his mirth and his cups,

bethought himself of the prisoners; and, telling his company he believed

they should have good sport in their examination, he ordered them into

his presence. They had no sooner entered the room than he began to

revile them, saying, "That robberies on the highway were now grown so

frequent, that people could not sleep safely in their beds, and assured

them they both should be made examples of at the ensuing assizes." After

he had gone on some time in this manner, he was reminded by his clerk,

"That it would be proper to take the depositions of the witnesses

against them." Which he bid him do, and he would light his pipe in the

meantime. Whilst the clerk was employed in writing down the deposition

of the fellow who had pretended to be robbed, the justice employed

himself in cracking jests on poor Fanny, in which he was seconded by all

the company at table. One asked, "Whether she was to be indicted for a

highwayman?" Another whispered in her ear, "If she had not provided

herself a great belly, he was at her service." A third said, "He

warranted she was a relation of Turpin." To which one of the company, a

great wit, shaking his head, and then his sides, answered, "He believed

she was nearer related to Turpis;" at which there was an universal

laugh. They were proceeding thus with the poor girl, when somebody,

smoking the cassock peeping forth from under the greatcoat of Adams,

cried out, "What have we here, a parson?" "How, sirrah," says the

justice, "do you go robbing in the dress of a clergyman? let me tell you

your habit will not entitle you to the benefit of the clergy." "Yes,"

said the witty fellow, "he will have one benefit of clergy, he will be

exalted above the heads of the people;" at which there was a second

laugh. And now the witty spark, seeing his jokes take, began to rise in

spirits; and, turning to Adams, challenged him to cap verses, and,

provoking him by giving the first blow, he repeated--

_"Molle meum levibus cord est vilebile telis."_

Upon which Adams, with a look full of ineffable contempt, told him, "He

deserved scourging for his pronunciation." The witty fellow answered,

"What do you deserve, doctor, for not being able to answer the first

time? Why, I'll give one, you blockhead, with an S.

_"'Si licet, ut fulvum spectatur in ignibus haurum.'_

"What, canst not with an M neither? Thou art a pretty fellow for a

parson! Why didst not steal some of the parson's Latin as well as his

gown?" Another at the table then answered, "If he had, you would have

been too hard for him; I remember you at the college a very devil at

this sport; I have seen you catch a freshman, for nobody that knew you

would engage with you." "I have forgot those things now," cried the wit.

"I believe I could have done pretty well formerly. Let's see, what did I

end with?--an M again--aye--

_"'Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, virorum.'_

I could have done it once." "Ah! evil betide you, and so you can now,"

said the other: "nobody in this country will undertake you." Adams could

hold no longer: "Friend," said he, "I have a boy not above eight years

old who would instruct thee that the last verse runs thus:--

_"'Ut sunt Divorum, Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, virorum.'"_

"I'll hold thee a guinea of that," said the wit, throwing the money on

the table. "And I'll go your halves," cries the other. "Done," answered

Adams; but upon applying to his pocket he was forced to retract, and own

he had no money about him; which set them all a-laughing, and confirmed

the triumph of his adversary, which was not moderate, any more than the

approbation he met with from the whole company, who told Adams he must

go a little longer to school before he attempted to attack that

gentleman in Latin.

The clerk, having finished the depositions, as well of the fellow

himself, as of those who apprehended the prisoners, delivered them to

the justice; who, having sworn the several witnesses without reading a

syllable, ordered his clerk to make the mittimus.

Adams then said, "He hoped he should not be condemned unheard." "No,

no," cries the justice, "you will be asked what you have to say for

yourself when you come on your trial: we are not trying you now; I shall

only commit you to gaol: if you can prove your innocence at size, you

will be found ignoramus, and so no harm done." "Is it no punishment,

sir, for an innocent man to lie several months in gaol?" cries Adams: "I

beg you would at least hear me before you sign the mittimus." "What

signifies all you can say?" says the justice: "is it not here in black

and white against you? I must tell you you are a very impertinent fellow

to take up so much of my time. So make haste with his mittimus."

The clerk now acquainted the justice that among other suspicious things,

as a penknife, &c., found in Adams's pocket, they had discovered a book

written, as he apprehended, in cyphers; for no one could read a word in

it. "Ay," says the justice, "the fellow may be more than a common

robber, he may be in a plot against the Government. Produce the book."

Upon which the poor manuscript of Aeschylus, which Adams had transcribed

with his own hand, was brought forth; and the justice, looking at it,

shook his head, and, turning to the prisoner, asked the meaning of those

cyphers. "Cyphers?" answered Adams, "it is a manuscript of Aeschylus."

"Who? who?" said the justice. Adams repeated, "Aeschylus." "That is an

outlandish name," cried the clerk. "A fictitious name rather, I

believe," said the justice. One of the company declared it looked very

much like Greek. "Greek?" said the justice; "why, 'tis all writing."

"No," says the other, "I don't positively say it is so; for it is a very

long time since I have seen any Greek." "There's one," says he, turning

to the parson of the parish, who was present, "will tell us

immediately." The parson, taking up the book, and putting on his

spectacles and gravity together, muttered some words to himself, and

then pronounced aloud--"Ay, indeed, it is a Greek manuscript; a very

fine piece of antiquity. I make no doubt but it was stolen from the same

clergyman from whom the rogue took the cassock." "What did the rascal

mean by his Aeschylus?" says the justice. "Pooh!" answered the doctor,

with a contemptuous grin, "do you think that fellow knows anything of

this book? Aeschylus! ho! ho! I see now what it is--a manuscript of one

of the fathers. I know a nobleman who would give a great deal of money

for such a piece of antiquity. Ay, ay, question and answer. The

beginning is the catechism in Greek. Ay, ay, _Pollaki toi_: What's your

name?"--"Ay, what's your name?" says the justice to Adams; who answered,

"It is Aeschylus, and I will maintain it."--"Oh! it is," says the

justice: "make Mr Aeschylus his mittimus. I will teach you to banter me

with a false name."

One of the company, having looked steadfastly at Adams, asked him, "If

he did not know Lady Booby?" Upon which Adams, presently calling him to

mind, answered in a rapture, "O squire! are you there? I believe you

will inform his worship I am innocent."--"I can indeed say," replied the

squire, "that I am very much surprized to see you in this situation:"

and then, addressing himself to the justice, he said, "Sir, I assure

you Mr Adams is a clergyman, as he appears, and a gentleman of a very

good character. I wish you would enquire a little farther into this

affair; for I am convinced of his innocence."--"Nay," says the justice,

"if he is a gentleman, and you are sure he is innocent, I don't desire

to commit him, not I: I will commit the woman by herself, and take your

bail for the gentleman: look into the book, clerk, and see how it is to

take bail--come--and make the mittimus for the woman as fast as you

can."--"Sir," cries Adams, "I assure you she is as innocent as

myself."--"Perhaps," said the squire, "there may be some mistake! pray

let us hear Mr Adams's relation."--"With all my heart," answered the

justice; "and give the gentleman a glass to wet his whistle before he

begins. I know how to behave myself to gentlemen as well as another.

Nobody can say I have committed a gentleman since I have been in the

commission." Adams then began the narrative, in which, though he was

very prolix, he was uninterrupted, unless by several hums and hahs of

the justice, and his desire to repeat those parts which seemed to him

most material. When he had finished, the justice, who, on what the

squire had said, believed every syllable of his story on his bare

affirmation, notwithstanding the depositions on oath to the contrary,

began to let loose several rogues and rascals against the witness, whom

he ordered to stand forth, but in vain; the said witness, long since

finding what turn matters were likely to take, had privily withdrawn,

without attending the issue. The justice now flew into a violent

passion, and was hardly prevailed with not to commit the innocent

fellows who had been imposed on as well as himself. He swore, "They had

best find out the fellow who was guilty of perjury, and bring him before

him within two days, or he would bind them all over to their good

behaviour." They all promised to use their best endeavours to that

purpose, and were dismissed. Then the justice insisted that Mr Adams

should sit down and take a glass with him; and the parson of the parish

delivered him back the manuscript without saying a word; nor would

Adams, who plainly discerned his ignorance, expose it. As for Fanny, she

was, at her own request, recommended to the care of a maid-servant of

the house, who helped her to new dress and clean herself.

The company in the parlour had not been long seated before they were

alarmed with a horrible uproar from without, where the persons who had

apprehended Adams and Fanny had been regaling, according to the custom

of the house, with the justice's strong beer. These were all fallen

together by the ears, and were cuffing each other without any mercy. The

justice himself sallied out, and with the dignity of his presence soon

put an end to the fray. On his return into the parlour, he reported,

"That the occasion of the quarrel was no other than a dispute to whom,

if Adams had been convicted, the greater share of the reward for

apprehending him had belonged." All the company laughed at this, except

Adams, who, taking his pipe from his mouth, fetched a deep groan, and

said, "He was concerned to see so litigious a temper in men. That he

remembered a story something like it in one of the parishes where his

cure lay:--There was," continued he, "a competition between three young

fellows for the place of the clerk, which I disposed of, to the best of

my abilities, according to merit; that is, I gave it to him who had the

happiest knack at setting a psalm. The clerk was no sooner established

in his place than a contention began between the two disappointed

candidates concerning their excellence; each contending on whom, had

they two been the only competitors, my election would have fallen. This

dispute frequently disturbed the congregation, and introduced a discord

into the psalmody, till I was forced to silence them both. But, alas!

the litigious spirit could not be stifled; and, being no longer able to

vent itself in singing, it now broke forth in fighting. It produced many

battles (for they were very near a match), and I believe would have

ended fatally, had not the death of the clerk given me an opportunity to

promote one of them to his place; which presently put an end to the

dispute, and entirely reconciled the contending parties." Adams then

proceeded to make some philosophical observations on the folly of

growing warm in disputes in which neither party is interested. He then

applied himself vigorously to smoaking; and a long silence ensued, which

was at length broke by the justice, who began to sing forth his own

praises, and to value himself exceedingly on his nice discernment in the

cause which had lately been before him. He was quickly interrupted by Mr

Adams, between whom and his worship a dispute now arose, whether he

ought not, in strictness of law, to have committed him, the said Adams;

in which the latter maintained he ought to have been committed, and the

justice as vehemently held he ought not. This had most probably produced

a quarrel (for both were very violent and positive in their opinions),

had not Fanny accidentally heard that a young fellow was going from the

justice's house to the very inn where the stage-coach in which Joseph

was, put up. Upon this news, she immediately sent for the parson out of

the parlour. Adams, when he found her resolute to go (though she would

not own the reason, but pretended she could not bear to see the faces of

those who had suspected her of such a crime), was as fully determined to

go with her; he accordingly took leave of the justice and company: and

so ended a dispute in which the law seemed shamefully to intend to set a

magistrate and a divine together by the ears.