The Coachman, in the mean time, took an Opportunity to call up a Surgeon, who lived within a few Doors: after which, he reminded his Passengers how late they were, and after they had taken Leave of Joseph, hurried them off as fast as he could.

The Wench soon got Joseph to bed, and promised to use her Interest to borrow him a Shirt; but imagined, as she afterwards said, by his being so bloody, that he must be a dead Man: she ran with all speed to hasten the Surgeon, who was more than half drest, apprehending that the Coach had been overturned and some Gentleman or Lady hurt. As soon as the Wench had informed him at his Window, that it was a poor foot Passenger who had been stripped of all he had, and almost murdered; he chid her for disturbing him so early, slipped off his Clothes again, and very quietly returned to bed and to sleep.

Aurora now began to shew her blooming Cheeks over the Hills, whilst ten Millions of feathered Songsters, in jocund Chorus, repeated Odes a thousand times sweeter than those of our Laureate, and sung both the Day and the Song; when the Master of the Inn, Mr. Tow-wouse, arose, and learning from his Maid an Account of the Robbery, and the Situation of his poor naked Guest, he shook his Head, and cried, Good-lack-a-day! and then ordered the Girl to carry him one of his own Shirts.

Mrs. Tow-wouse was just awake, and had stretched out her Arms in vain to fold her departed Husband, when the Maid entered the Room. »Who's there? Betty?« »Yes Madam.« »Where's your Master?« »He's without, Madam; he hath sent me for a Shirt to lend a poor naked Man, who hath been robbed and murdered.« »Touch one, if you dare, you Slut,« said Mrs. Tow-wouse, »your Master is a pretty sort of a Man to take in naked Vagabonds, and clothe them with his own Clothes. I shall have no such Doings. – If you offer to touch any thing, I will throw the Chamber-Pot at your Head. Go, send your Master to me.« »Yes Madam,« answered Betty. As soon as he came in, she thus began: »What the Devil do you mean by this, Mr. Tow-wouse? Am I to buy Shirts to lend to a sett of scabby Rascals?« »My Dear,« said Mr. Tow-wouse, »this is a poor Wretch.« »Yes,« says she, »I know it is a poor Wretch, but what the Devil have we to do with poor Wretches? The Law makes us provide for too many already. We shall have thirty or forty poor Wretches in red Coats shortly.« »My Dear,« cries Tow-wouse, »this Man hath been robbed of all he hath.« »Well then,« says she, »where's his Money to pay his Reckoning? Why doth not such a Fellow go to an Ale-house? I shall send him packing as soon as I am up, I assure you.« »My Dear,« said he, »common Charity won't suffer you to do that.« »Common Charity, a F––t!« says she, »Common Charity teaches us to provide for ourselves, and our Families; and I and mine won't be ruined by your Charity, I assure you.« »Well,« says he, »my Dear, do as you will when you are up, you know I never contradict you.« »No,« says she, »if the Devil was to contradict me, I would make the House too hot to hold him.«

With such like Discourses they consumed near half an Hour, whilst Betty provided a Shirt from the Hostler, who was one of her Sweethearts, and put it on poor Joseph. The Surgeon had likewise at last visited him, had washed and drest his Wounds, and was now come to acquaint Mr. Tow-wouse, that his Guest was in such extreme danger of his Life, that he scarce saw any hopes of his Recovery. – »Here's a pretty Kettle of Fish,« cries Mrs. Tow-wouse, »you have brought upon us! We are like to have a Funeral at our own expence.« Tow-wouse, (who notwithstanding his Charity, would have given his Vote as freely as he ever did at an Election, that any other House in the Kingdom, should have had quiet Possession of his Guest) answered, »My Dear, I am not to blame: he was brought hither by the Stage-Coach; and Betty had put him to bed before I was stirring.« »I'll Betty her,« says she – At which, with half her Garments on, the other half under her Arm, she sallied out in quest of the unfortunate Betty, whilst Tow-wouse and the Surgeon went to pay a Visit to poor Joseph, and enquire into the Circumstance of this melancholy Affair.

 

 

Chapter XIII

What happened to Joseph during his Sickness at the Inn, with the curious Discourse between him and Mr. Barnabas the Parson of the Parish.

 

As soon as Joseph had communicated a particular History of the Robbery, together with a short Account of himself, and his intended Journey, he asked the Surgeon »if he apprehended him to be in any Danger:« To which the Surgeon very honestly answered, »he feared he was; for that his Pulse was very exalted and feverish, and if his Fever should prove more than Symptomatick, it would be impossible to save him.« Joseph, fetching a deep Sigh, cried, »Poor Fanny, I would I could have lived to see thee! but G––'s Will be done.«

The Surgeon then advised him, »if he had any worldly Affairs to settle, that he would do it as soon as possible; for though he hoped he might recover, yet he thought himself obliged to acquaint him he was in great danger, and if the malign Concoction of his Humours should cause a suscitation of his Fever, he might soon grow delirious, and incapable to make his Will.« Joseph answered, »that it was impossible for any Creature in the Universe to be in a poorer Condition than himself: for since the Robbery he had not one thing of any kind whatever, which he could call his own.« I had, said he, a poor little Piece of Gold which they took away, that would have been a Comfort to me in all my Afflictions; but surely, Fanny, I want nothing to remind me of thee. I have thy dear Image in my Heart, and no Villain can ever tear it thence.

Joseph desired Paper and Pens to write a Letter, but they were refused him; and he was advised to use all his Endeavours to compose himself. They then left him; and Mr. Tow-wouse sent to a Clergyman to come and administer his good Offices to the Soul of poor Joseph, since the Surgeon despaired of making any successful Applications to his Body.

Mr. Barnabas (for that was the Clergyman's Name) came as soon as sent for, and having first drank a Dish of Tea with the Landlady, and afterwards a Bowl of Punch with the Landlord, he walked up to the Room where Joseph lay: but, finding him asleep, returned to take the other Sneaker, which when he had finished, he again crept softly up to the Chamber-Door, and, having opened it, heard the Sick Man talking to himself in the following manner:

»O most adorable Pamela! most virtuous Sister, whose Example could alone enable me to withstand all the Temptations of Riches and Beauty, and to preserve my Virtue pure and chaste, for the Arms of my dear Fanny, if it had pleased Heaven that I should ever have come unto them. What Riches, or Honours, or Pleasures can make us amends for the Loss of Innocence? Doth not that alone afford us more Consolation, than all worldly Acquisitions? What but Innocence and Virtue could give any Comfort to such a miserable Wretch as I am? Yet these can make me prefer this sick and painful Bed to all the Pleasures I should have found in my Lady's. These can make me face Death without Fear; and though I love my Fanny more than ever Man loved a Woman; these can teach me to resign myself to the Divine Will without repining. O thou delightful charming Creature, if Heaven had indulged thee to my Arms, the poorest, humblest State would have been a Paradise; I could have lived with thee in the lowest Cottage, without envying the Palaces, the Dainties, or the Riches of any Man breathing. But I must leave thee, leave thee for ever, my dearest Angel, I must think of another World, and I heartily pray thou may'st meet Comfort in this.« – Barnabas thought he had heard enough; so down stairs he went, and told Tow-wouse he could do his Guest no Service: for that he was very lightheaded, and had uttered nothing but a Rhapsody of Nonsense all the time he stayed in the Room.

The Surgeon returned in the Afternoon, and found his Patient in a higher Fever, as he said, than when he left him, though not delirious: for notwithstanding Mr. Barnabas's Opinion, he had not been once out of his Senses since his arrival at the Inn.

Mr. Barnabas was again sent for, and with much difficulty prevailed on to make another Visit. As soon as he entered the Room, he told Joseph, »he was come to pray by him, and to prepare him for another World: In the first place therefore, he hoped he had repented of all his Sins?« Joseph answered, »he hoped he had: but there was one thing which he knew not whether he should call a Sin; if it was, he feared he should die in the Commission of it, and that was the Regret of parting with a young Woman, whom he loved as tenderly as he did his Heartstrings?« Barnabas bad him be assured, »that any Repining at the Divine Will, was one of the greatest Sins he could commit; that he ought to forget all carnal Affections, and think of better things.« Joseph said, »that neither in this World nor the next, he could forget his Fanny, and that the Thought, however grievous, of parting from her for ever, was not half so tormenting, as the Fear of what she would suffer when she knew his Misfortune.« Barnabas said, »that such Fears argued a Diffidence and Despondence very criminal; that he must divest himself of all human Passion, and fix his Heart above.« Joseph answered, »that was what he desired to do, and should be obliged to him, if he would enable him to accomplish it.« Barnabas replied, »That must be done by Grace.« Joseph besought him to discover how he might attain it. Barnabas answered, »By Prayer and Faith.« He then questioned him concerning his Forgiveness of the Thieves.