Dick. Say Sir to a lord's son. You have no more manners than a bear.

Pan. Bear! Under favour, young gentleman, I am the bear-leader, being appointed your tutor.

Dick. And what can you teach me?

Pan. Prudence: don't forget yourself in 50 sudden success. Tecum habita.' Persius.Hem!

Dick. Prudence to a nobleman's son, with fifteen thousand a year!

Pan. Don't give way to your passions. Dick. Give way! Zounds! I'm wildmad! You teach me! Pooh! I have been in London before, and know it requires no teaching to be a modern fine gentleman. Why, it all lies in a nut-shell. Sport a :60 curricle-walk Bond Street-play at Faroget drunk-dance reels-go to the operacut off your tail-pull on your pantaloons, and there's a buck of the first fashion in town for you. D'ye think I don't know what's

going! (Crosses.)

Pan. Mercy on me! I shall have a very refractory pupil!

Dick. Not at all; we'll be hand and glove together, my little doctor. I'll drive you 170 down to all the races, with my little terrier between your legs, in a tandem.

Pan. Doctor Pangloss, the philosopher, with a terrier between his legs, in a

tandem!

Dick. I'll tell you what, doctor-I'll make you my long-stop at cricket-you shall draw corks when I'm president-laugh at my jokes before company-squeeze lemons for punch-cast up the reckoning-and woe betide you, 180 if you don't keep sober enough to see me safe home after a jollification.

Pan. Make me a long-stop, and a squeezer of lemons! Zounds! this is more fatiguing than walking out with the lap-dogs! And are these qualifications for a tutor, young gentleman?

Dick. To be sure they are! . . . Come now, tutor, go you and call the waiter.

Pan. Go and call! Sir, sir!-I'd have you to understand, Mr Dowlas-

Dick. Ay; let us understand one another, doctor. My father, I take it, comes down handsomely to you, for your management of me.

Pan. My lord has been liberal.

Dick. But 'tis I must manage you, doctor. Acknowledge this, and, between ourselves, I'll find means to double your pay.

Pan. Double my

Dick. Do you hesitate? Why, man, you have set up for a modern tutor without knowing your trade!

Pan. Double my pay! say no more-done! 'Actum est.' Terence. Hem! (Calling.) Waiter! 'Gad!-I've reached the right reading at last:

'I've often wished that I had clear,

For life, six hundred pounds a-year." Swift.-Hem! Waiter! (Calling.)

Dick. That's right; tell him to pop my clothes and linen into the carriage; they're in that bundle.

LADY DUBERLY AND DOCTOR PANGLOSS.

Lady D. And how does my lord come on in his learning, doctor?

Pan. Apt; very apt, indeed, for his age. Defective in nothing now but words, phrases, and grammar.

Lady D. I wish you could learn him to follow my example, and be a little genteel. But there is no making a silk purse out of a sow's ear, they say.

Pan. Time may do much. But as to my lord, everybody hasn't your ladyship's exquisite elegance. Upon my soul, a lie!' Shakespeare.-Hem! (Aside.)

Lady D. A mighty pretty-spoken man! And you are made tutorer, doctor, I'm told, to my Dicky.

Pan. That honour has accrued to your obsequious servant, Peter Pangloss. I have

Pan. Dancing! Doctor Pangloss, the 50 philosopher, teach dancing!

бо

Lady D. Between whiles, you might give Dick a lesson or two in the hall; as my lordship's valet plays on the fiddle, it will be quite handy to have you both in the house, you know.

Pan. . . . With submission to your ladyship, my business is with the head, and not the heels, of my pupil.

Lady D. Fiddle-faddle! Lady Betty tells me that the heads of young men of fashion, nowadays, are by no means overloaded. They are all left to the barber and dentist.

Pan. 'Twould be daring to dispute so selfevident an axiom. But if your ladyship

Lady D. Lookye, doctor! he must learn to dance and jabber French; and I wouldn't give a brass farden for anything else. I know what's elegance; and you'll find the grey mare the better horse in this house, I promise

Lady D. The young nobility!

very air and grace of our

ΠΟ

Dub. Is it? Grace must have got plaguy limber and lopt of late. There's the last Lord Duberly's father done in our dining-room with a wig as wide as a wash-tub, and stuck up as stiff as a poker. He was one of your tip-tops, 120 too, in his time, they tell me; he carried a gold stick before George the First.

Lady D. Yes; and looks, for all the world, as straight as if he had swallowed it.

Dub. No matter for that, my lady. What signifies dignity without its crackeristick? A man should know how to bemean himself when he is as rich as Pluto.

Pan. Plutus, if you please, my lord. Pluto, no doubt, has disciples, and followers of 130 fashion; Plutus is the ruler of riches. 'Demeter men Plouton egeinato.' (Even Demetrius bends to Plutus.) Hesiod.-Hem!

Dub. There, Dick! D'ye hear how the tutorer talks? Od rabbit it! he can ladle you out Latin by the quart, and grunts Greek

French books. But I see, by the backs, they are all written by Tom. Come along, my lady.

[Exeunt LORD and LADY DUBERLY. Pan. On what subject, Mr Dowlas, shall we commence our researches this evening? Dick. Tell 'em to light up the billiardroom; we'll knock about the balls a little.

Pan. Knock about the balls! An admirable entrance upon a course of studies! Dick. Do you know anything of the game?

Pan. I know how to pocket, young gentleman.

Dick. So do most tutors, doctor. Pan. If I could but persuade you to peep into a classic

Dick. Peep! Why, you prig of a fellow! don't I pay you because I won't peep? Talk of this again, and I'm off our contract. Pan. Are you? I'm dumb! Mammon leads me on." Milton.-Hem! I follow.

[Exeunt.

ΙΟ

VOL. II.-Chap. 5.
The Court of Common Pleas.

MR JUSTICE STARELEIGH, SERJEANT BUZFUZ,
MR SKIMPIN, MR PHUNKY, MRS CLUPPINS,
MR WINKLE, MR WELLER, senior, SAM
WELLER, FOREMAN, CRIER.

Enter MR JUSTICE STARELEIGH, attended by CRIER. All rise -Takes his seat on

the bench.-All sit. Crier. Hats off, gentlemen. Silence! Silence for my Lord!

Buz. I am for the plaintiff, my Lord. Phunky. I appear for the defendant, my Lord. Judge. Go on.

Buz. My Lord! gentlemen of the Jury! Never in the whole course of my professional experience-never, from the very first moment of my applying myself to the study and practice of the law-have I approached a case with feelings of such deep emotion, or with such a heavy sense of the responsibility imposed upon me—a responsibility, I would say, which

I never could have supported were I not buoyed up and sustained by a conviction so strong, that it amounts to positive certainty, that the cause of truth and justice, or in other words, the cause of my much injured and most oppressed client must prevail with the highminded and intelligent dozen of men whom I now see in that box before me. This, gentlemen, is an action for a breach of promise of marriage, in which the damages are laid at one thousand five hundred pounds. The facts and circumstances of the case, gentlemen, you shall hear detailed by me, and proved by the unimpeachable female whom I will place in that box before you. The plaintiff, gentlemen-the plaintiff is a widow. Yes, gentlemen, a widow. The late Mr Bardell, after enjoying for many years the esteem and confidence of his sovereign, as one of the guardians of his royal revenue, glided almost imperceptibly from the world, to seek elsewhere for that repose and peace which a custom-house can never afford.

Buz. There is no date, gentlemen: but I am instructed to say that it was put in the plaintiff's parlour-window just this time three years. Some time before his death he had stamped his likeness upon a little boy. With this little boy-the only pledge of her departed exciseman - Mrs Bardell shrunk from the world, and courted the retirement and tranquillity of Goswell Street; and here she placed in her front-parlour window a written placard, bearing this inscription, 'Apartments furnished, for a single gentleman. Inquire within.' I entreat the attention of the jury to the wording of this document. 'Apartments furnished, for a single gentleman.' Mrs Bardell's opinions of the opposite sex, gentlemen, were derived from a long contemplation of the inestimable qualities of her lost husband. She had no fear-she had no distrust-she had no suspicion; all was confidence and reliance. 'Mr Bardell,' said the widow, 'Mr Bardell was a man of honour, Mr Bardell was a man of his word, Mr Bardell was no deceiver; Mr Bardell was once a single gentleman himself; to single gentlemen I look for protection, for assistance, for comfort, and for consolation; in single gentlemen I shall perpetually see something to remind me of what Mr Bardell was, when he first won my young and untried affections; to a single gentleman, then, shall my lodgings be let." Actuated by this beautiful and touching impulse (among the best impulses of our imperfect nature, gentlemen), the lonely and desolate widow dried her tears, furnished her first floor, caught her innocent boy to her maternal bosom, and put the bill up in her parlour window. Did it remain there long? No. The serpent was on the watch-the train was laid-the mine was preparing the sapper and miner was at work. Before the bill had been in the window three days-three days, gentlemen-a Being, erect upon two legs, and bearing all the outward semblance of a man, and not of a monster, knocked at the door of Mrs Bardell's house. He inquired within; he took the lodgings; and on the very next day, he entered into possession of them. This man was Pickwick-Pickwick the defendant.

Of this man Pickwick, I will say but little-the subject presents but few attractions; and I, gentlemen, am not the man, nor are you, gentlemen, the men, to delight in the contemplation of revolting heartlessness, and of systematic villainy.

I say systematic villainy, gentlemen! And when I say systematic villainy, let me tell the defendant Pickwick, if he be in court, as I am informed he is, that it would have been more decent in him-more becoming-in better judgment and in better taste-if he had stopped away. Let me tell him, gentlemen,

that any gestures of dissent or disapprobation 100 in which he may indulge in this court will not go down with you; that you will know how to value and how to appreciate them; and let me tell him further, as my Lord will tell you, gentlemen, that a counsel, in the discharge of his duty to his client, is not to be intimidated, nor bullied, nor put down; and that any attempt to do either the one or the other, or the first or the last, will recoil on the head of the attempter, be he plaintiff or be he defendant, be his name Pickwick, or Noakes, or Stoakes, or Stiles, or Brown, or Thompson.

I shall show you, gentlemen, that for two years Pickwick continued to reside constantly, and without interruption or intermission, at Mrs Bardell's house. I shall show you that Mrs Bardell, during the whole of that time, waited on him, attended to his comforts, cooked his meals, looked out his linen for the washerwoman when it went abroad; darned, aired, 120 and prepared it for wear when it came home, and in short, enjoyed his fullest trust and confidence. I shall show you, that, on many occasions, he gave halfpence, and on some occasions even sixpences, to her little boy. . . . ; and I am in a situation to prove to you, on the testimony of three of his own friendsmost unwilling witnesses, gentlemen, most unwilling witnesses--that on one particular morning he was discovered by them holding the plaintiff 130 in his arms, and soothing her agitation by his caresses and endearments. And now, gentlebut one word more. men, Two letters have passed between these parties, letters which are admitted to be in the handwriting of the defendant, and which speak volumes indeed. These letters, too, bespeak the character of the man ... They are covert, sly, underhanded communications . . . letters that must be viewed with a cautious and suspicious eye-letters that 140 were evidently intended at the time by Pickwick to mislead and delude any third parties into whose hands they might fall. Let me read the first: 'Garraway's, 12 o'clock. Dear Mrs B., Chops and tomata sauce. Yours, PICKWICK.' Gentlemen, what does this mean? 'Chops and tomata sauce. Yours, Pickwick! 'Chops'-gracious heaven! and 'tomata sauce!' Gentlemen, is the happiness of a sensitive and confiding female to be trifled 150 away by such shallow artifices as these? The next has no date whatever, which is in itself suspicious:- Dear Mrs B., I shall not be at home till to-morrow.-Slow coach.' And then follows this very remarkable expression:'Don't trouble yourself about the warmingpan?' 'The warming-pan!' Why, gentlemen, who does trouble himself about a warming-pan? When was the peace of mind of man or woman broken or disturbed by a warming-pan?-which 160 is in itself a harmless, a useful, and, I will add, gentlemen, a comforting article of domestic

furniture. Why is Mrs Bardell so earnestly entreated not to agitate herself about this warming-pan, unless (as is no doubt the case) it is a mere cover for hidden fire-a mere substitute for some endearing word or promise, agreeably to a preconcerted system of corre spondence, artfully contrived by Pickwick, 170 with a view to his contemplated desertion, and which I am not in a condition to explain? And what does this allusion to the Slow coach' mean? For aught I know, it may be an allusion to Pickwick himself, who has most unquestionably been a criminally slow coach during the whole of this transaction, but whose speed will now be very unexpectedly accelerated, and whose wheels, gentlemen, as he will find to his cost, will very soon be greased by you.

180

But enough of this, gentlemen. It is difficult to smile with an aching heart. It is ill jesting when our deepest sympathies are awakened. My client's hopes and prospects are ruined, and it is no figure of speech to say that her occupation is gone indeed. The bill is down -but there is no tenant. Eligible single gentlemen pass and repass-but there is no invitation for them to inquire within or without. All is gloom and silence in the house; the 190 voice of the child is hushed; his infant sports are disregarded, while his mother weeps he forgets the long-familiar cry of "knuckle down, and at tip-cheese, or odd-and-even, his hand is out. But Pickwick, gentlemenPickwick, the ruthless destroyer of this domestic oasis in the desert of Goswell Street-Pickwick, who has choked up the well, and thrown ashes on the sward-Pickwick, who comes before you to-day with his heartless tomata sauce and 200 warming-pans-Pickwick still rears his head with unblushing effrontery, and gazes without a sigh on the ruin he has made! Damages, gentlemen-heavy damages is the only punishment with which you can visit him; the only recompense you can award to my client. And for those damages she now appeals to an enlightened, a high-minded, a right-feeling, a conscientious, a dispassionate, a sympathising, a contemplative jury of her 210 civilised countrymen!

220

Call Elizabeth Cluppins.

Crier. Elizabeth Tuppins!-Elizabeth Jupkins!-Elizabeth Muffins!

Enter MRS CLUPPINS.

Buz. Mrs Cluppins, pray compose yourself, ma'am. (Mrs Cluppins sobs.) Do you recollect, Mrs Cluppins-do you recollect being in Mrs Bardell's back one pair of stairs, on one particular morning in July last, when she was dusting Pickwick's apartments?

Mrs C. Yes, my Lord and jury, I do. Bus. Mr Pickwick's sitting-room was the first floor front, I believe?

Mrs C. Yes, it were, sir.

Judge. What were you doing in the back room, ma'am?

Mrs C. My Lord and jury, I will not deceive you.

Judge. You had better not, ma'am.

Mrs C. I was there unbeknown to Mrs Bardell. I had been out with a little basket, gentlemen, to buy three pounds of red kidney purtaties-which was three pounds tuppence ha'penny--when I see Mrs Bardell's streetdoor on the jar.

Judge. On the what?

Snub. Partly open, my Lord.
Judge. She said on the jar.
Snub. It's all the same, my Lord.
Judge. I will make a note of it.

Mrs C. I walked in, gentlemen, just to say good-mornin', and went in a permiscuous manner, upstairs, and into the back room. Gentlemen, there was the sound of voices in the front room

Buz. And you listened, I believe, Mrs Cluppins.

Mrs C. Beggin' your pardon, sir, I would scorn the haction. The voices was very loud, sir, and forced themselves upon my ear.

Was

Buz. Well, Mrs Cluppins, you were not listening, but you heard the voices. one of those voices Pickwick's?

Mrs C. Yes, it were, sir.

Buz. Tell us what you heard, Mrs Cluppins, you please.

Mrs C. I heard Mr Pickwick's voice, my Lord and jury.

Buz. Yes, yes, but what did you hear him say?

2

2.

2

Mrs C. Mr Pickwick was speaking to Mrs 2 Bardell, and he said, my Lord and jury, that to keep two people would not be a much greater expense for her than to keep one; and it would save Mrs Bardell a great deal of trouble.

Buz. Well, what next?

Mrs C. He said she would have a lively companion, who would teach her more tricks in a week than she would ever learn in a year. Buz. What more did you hear?

Mrs C. My Lord and jury, I peeped in- I won't deceive you, gentlemen-and his arms were round Mrs Bardell's neck, and he called her a good creature.

Buz. That will do. You can go now, Mrs Cluppins. [Exit. Snub. I shall not cross-examine this witness. Buz. Call Nathaniel Winkle. Crier. Nathaniel Winkle!

2

Win. Here. (Goes into box, bows to Judge.) 2 Judge. Don't look at me, sir; look at the jury.

Skim. Now, sir, have the goodness to let his Lordship and the jury know what your name is, will you?

Win. (With a stuttering accent.) Winkle.