Our cavaliers now arrived at that temple, where Heydegger, the great
Arbiter Deliciarum, the great high-priest of pleasure, presides; and, like
other heathen priests, imposes on his votaries by the pretended presence
of the deity, when in reality no such deity is there.
Mr Nightingale, having taken a turn or two with his companion, soon left
him, and walked off with a female, saying, “Now you are here, sir,
you must beat about for your own game.”
Jones began to entertain strong hopes that his Sophia was present; and
these hopes gave him more spirits than the lights, the music, and the
company; though these are pretty strong antidotes against the spleen. He
now accosted every woman he saw, whose stature, shape, or air, bore any
resemblance to his angel. To all of whom he endeavoured to say something
smart, in order to engage an answer, by which he might discover that voice
which he thought it impossible he should mistake. Some of these answered
by a question, in a squeaking voice, Do you know me? Much the greater
number said, I don't know you, sir, and nothing more. Some called him an
impertinent fellow; some made him no answer at all; some said, Indeed I
don't know your voice, and I shall have nothing to say to you; and many
gave him as kind answers as he could wish, but not in the voice he desired
to hear.
Whilst he was talking with one of these last (who was in the habit of a
shepherdess) a lady in a domino came up to him, and slapping him on the
shoulder, whispered him, at the same time, in the ear, “If you talk
any longer with that trollop, I will acquaint Miss Western.”
Jones no sooner heard that name, than, immediately quitting his former
companion, he applied to the domino, begging and entreating her to show
him the lady she had mentioned, if she was then in the room.
The mask walked hastily to the upper end of the innermost apartment before
she spoke; and then, instead of answering him, sat down, and declared she
was tired. Jones sat down by her, and still persisted in his entreaties;
at last the lady coldly answered, “I imagined Mr Jones had been a
more discerning lover, than to suffer any disguise to conceal his mistress
from him.” “Is she here, then, madam?” replied Jones,
with some vehemence. Upon which the lady cried—“Hush, sir, you
will be observed. I promise you, upon my honour, Miss Western is not here.”
Jones, now taking the mask by the hand, fell to entreating her in the most
earnest manner, to acquaint him where he might find Sophia; and when he
could obtain no direct answer, he began to upbraid her gently for having
disappointed him the day before; and concluded, saying, “Indeed, my
good fairy queen, I know your majesty very well, notwithstanding the
affected disguise of your voice. Indeed, Mrs Fitzpatrick, it is a little
cruel to divert yourself at the expense of my torments.”
The mask answered, “Though you have so ingeniously discovered me, I
must still speak in the same voice, lest I should be known by others. And
do you think, good sir, that I have no greater regard for my cousin, than
to assist in carrying on an affair between you two, which must end in her
ruin, as well as your own? Besides, I promise you, my cousin is not mad
enough to consent to her own destruction, if you are so much her enemy as
to tempt her to it.”
“Alas, madam!” said Jones, “you little know my heart,
when you call me an enemy of Sophia.”
“And yet to ruin any one,” cries the other, “you will
allow, is the act of an enemy; and when by the same act you must knowingly
and certainly bring ruin on yourself, is it not folly or madness, as well
as guilt? Now, sir, my cousin hath very little more than her father will
please to give her; very little for one of her fashion—you know him,
and you know your own situation.”
Jones vowed he had no such design on Sophia, “That he would rather
suffer the most violent of deaths than sacrifice her interest to his
desires.” He said, “he knew how unworthy he was of her, every
way, that he had long ago resolved to quit all such aspiring thoughts, but
that some strange accidents had made him desirous to see her once more,
when he promised he would take leave of her for ever. No, madam,”
concluded he, “my love is not of that base kind which seeks its own
satisfaction at the expense of what is most dear to its object. I would
sacrifice everything to the possession of my Sophia, but Sophia herself.”
Though the reader may have already conceived no very sublime idea of the
virtue of the lady in the mask; and though possibly she may hereafter
appear not to deserve one of the first characters of her sex; yet, it is
certain, these generous sentiments made a strong impression upon her, and
greatly added to the affection she had before conceived for our young
heroe.
The lady now, after silence of a few moments, said, “She did not see
his pretensions to Sophia so much in the light of presumption, as of
imprudence. Young fellows,” says she, “can never have too
aspiring thoughts. I love ambition in a young man, and I would have you
cultivate it as much as possible. Perhaps you may succeed with those who
are infinitely superior in fortune; nay, I am convinced there are women——but
don't you think me a strange creature, Mr Jones, to be thus giving advice
to a man with whom I am so little acquainted, and one with whose behaviour
to me I have so little reason to be pleased?”
Here Jones began to apologize, and to hope he had not offended in anything
he had said of her cousin.—To which the mask answered, “And
are you so little versed in the sex, to imagine you can well affront a
lady more than by entertaining her with your passion for another woman? If
the fairy queen had conceived no better opinion of your gallantry, she
would scarce have appointed you to meet her at the masquerade.”
Jones had never less inclination to an amour than at present; but
gallantry to the ladies was among his principles of honour; and he held it
as much incumbent on him to accept a challenge to love, as if it had been
a challenge to fight. Nay, his very love to Sophia made it necessary for
him to keep well with the lady, as he made no doubt but she was capable of
bringing him into the presence of the other.
He began therefore to make a very warm answer to her last speech, when a
mask, in the character of an old woman, joined them. This mask was one of
those ladies who go to a masquerade only to vent ill-nature, by telling
people rude truths, and by endeavouring, as the phrase is, to spoil as
much sport as they are able. This good lady, therefore, having observed
Jones, and his friend, whom she well knew, in close consultation together
in a corner of the room, concluded she could nowhere satisfy her spleen
better than by interrupting them. She attacked them, therefore, and soon
drove them from their retirement; nor was she contented with this, but
pursued them to every place which they shifted to avoid her; till Mr
Nightingale, seeing the distress of his friend, at last relieved him, and
engaged the old woman in another pursuit.
While Jones and his mask were walking together about the room, to rid
themselves of the teazer, he observed his lady speak to several masks,
with the same freedom of acquaintance as if they had been barefaced. He
could not help expressing his surprize at this; saying, “Sure,
madam, you must have infinite discernment, to know people in all
disguises.” To which the lady answered, “You cannot conceive
anything more insipid and childish than a masquerade to the people of
fashion, who in general know one another as well here as when they meet in
an assembly or a drawing-room; nor will any woman of condition converse
with a person with whom she is not acquainted. In short, the generality of
persons whom you see here may more properly be said to kill time in this
place than in any other; and generally retire from hence more tired than
from the longest sermon. To say the truth, I begin to be in that situation
myself; and if I have any faculty at guessing, you are not much better
pleased. I protest it would be almost charity in me to go home for your
sake.” “I know but one charity equal to it,” cries
Jones, “and that is to suffer me to wait on you home.” “Sure,”
answered the lady, “you have a strange opinion of me, to imagine,
that upon such an acquaintance, I would let you into my doors at this time
of night. I fancy you impute the friendship I have shown my cousin to some
other motive. Confess honestly; don't you consider this contrived
interview as little better than a downright assignation? Are you used, Mr
Jones, to make these sudden conquests?” “I am not used, madam,”
said Jones, “to submit to such sudden conquests; but as you have
taken my heart by surprize, the rest of my body hath a right to follow; so
you must pardon me if I resolve to attend you wherever you go.” He
accompanied these words with some proper actions; upon which the lady,
after a gentle rebuke, and saying their familiarity would be observed,
told him, “She was going to sup with an acquaintance, whither she
hoped he would not follow her; for if you should,” said she, “I
shall be thought an unaccountable creature, though my friend indeed is not
censorious: yet I hope you won't follow me; I protest I shall not know
what to say if you do.”
The lady presently after quitted the masquerade, and Jones,
notwithstanding the severe prohibition he had received, presumed to attend
her. He was now reduced to the same dilemma we have mentioned before,
namely, the want of a shilling, and could not relieve it by borrowing as
before. He therefore walked boldly on after the chair in which his lady
rode, pursued by a grand huzza, from all the chairmen present, who wisely
take the best care they can to discountenance all walking afoot by their
betters. Luckily, however, the gentry who attend at the Opera-house were
too busy to quit their stations, and as the lateness of the hour prevented
him from meeting many of their brethren in the street, he proceeded
without molestation, in a dress, which, at another season, would have
certainly raised a mob at his heels.
The lady was set down in a street not far from Hanover-square, where the
door being presently opened, she was carried in, and the gentleman,
without any ceremony, walked in after her.
Jones and his companion were now together in a very well-furnished and
well-warmed room; when the female, still speaking in her masquerade voice,
said she was surprized at her friend, who must absolutely have forgot her
appointment; at which, after venting much resentment, she suddenly exprest
some apprehension from Jones, and asked him what the world would think of
their having been alone together in a house at that time of night? But
instead of a direct answer to so important a question, Jones began to be
very importunate with the lady to unmask; and at length having prevailed,
there appeared not Mrs Fitzpatrick, but the Lady Bellaston herself.
It would be tedious to give the particular conversation, which consisted
of very common and ordinary occurrences, and which lasted from two till
six o'clock in the morning. It is sufficient to mention all of it that is
anywise material to this history. And this was a promise that the lady
would endeavour to find out Sophia, and in a few days bring him to an
interview with her, on condition that he would then take his leave of her.
When this was thoroughly settled, and a second meeting in the evening
appointed at the same place, they separated; the lady returned to her
house, and Jones to his lodgings.