Mr. Pickwick’s conscience had been somewhat reproaching him for his recent neglect of his friends at the Peacock; and he was just on the point of walking forth3 in quest of them, on the third morning after the election had terminated, when his faithful valet put into his hand a card, on which was engraved5 the following inscription:—
Mrs. Leo Hunter
THE DEN6. EATANSWILL.
‘Person’s a-waitin’,’ said Sam, epigrammatically.
‘Does the person want me, Sam?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.
‘He wants you partickler; and no one else ‘ll do, as the devil’s private secretary said ven he fetched avay Doctor Faustus,’ replied Mr. Weller.
‘HE. Is it a gentleman?’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘A wery good imitation o’ one, if it ain’t,’ replied Mr. Weller.
‘But this is a lady’s card,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘Given me by a gen’l’m’n, howsoever,’ replied Sam, ‘and he’s a-waitin’ in the drawing-room — said he’d rather wait all day, than not see you.’
Mr. Pickwick, on hearing this determination, descended7 to the drawing-room, where sat a grave man, who started up on his entrance, and said, with an air of profound respect:—
‘Mr. Pickwick, I presume?’
‘The same.’
‘Allow me, Sir, the honour of grasping your hand. Permit me, Sir, to shake it,’ said the grave man.
‘Certainly,’ said Mr. Pickwick. The stranger shook the extended hand, and then continued —
‘We have heard of your fame, sir. The noise of your antiquarian discussion has reached the ears of Mrs. Leo Hunter — my wife, sir; I am Mr. Leo Hunter’— the stranger paused, as if he expected that Mr. Pickwick would be overcome by the disclosure; but seeing that he remained perfectly8 calm, proceeded —
‘My wife, sir — Mrs. Leo Hunter — is proud to number among her acquaintance all those who have rendered themselves celebrated9 by their works and talents. Permit me, sir, to place in a conspicuous10 part of the list the name of Mr. Pickwick, and his brother-members of the club that derives11 its name from him.’
‘I shall be extremely happy to make the acquaintance of such a lady, sir,’ replied Mr. Pickwick.
‘You SHALL make it, sir,’ said the grave man. ‘To-morrow morning, sir, we give a public breakfast — a FETE CHAMPETRE— to a great number of those who have rendered themselves celebrated by their works and talents. Permit Mrs. Leo Hunter, Sir, to have the gratification of seeing you at the Den.’
‘With great pleasure,’ replied Mr. Pickwick.
‘Mrs. Leo Hunter has many of these breakfasts, Sir,’ resumed the new acquaintance —’“feasts of reason,” sir, “and flows of soul,” as somebody who wrote a sonnet12 to Mrs. Leo Hunter on her breakfasts, feelingly and originally observed.’
‘Was HE celebrated for his works and talents?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.
‘He was Sir,’ replied the grave man, ‘all Mrs. Leo Hunter’s acquaintances are; it is her ambition, sir, to have no other acquaintance.’
‘It is a very noble ambition,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘When I inform Mrs. Leo Hunter, that that remark fell from your lips, sir, she will indeed be proud,’ said the grave man. ‘You have a gentleman in your train, who has produced some beautiful little poems, I think, sir.’
‘My friend Mr. Snodgrass has a great taste for poetry,’ replied Mr. Pickwick.
‘So has Mrs. Leo Hunter, Sir. She dotes on poetry, sir. She adores it; I may say that her whole soul and mind are wound up, and entwined with it. She has produced some delightful13 pieces, herself, sir. You may have met with her “Ode to an Expiring Frog,” sir.’
‘I don’t think I have,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘You astonish me, Sir,’ said Mr. Leo Hunter. ‘It created an immense sensation. It was signed with an “L” and eight stars, and appeared originally in a lady’s magazine. It commenced —
‘“Can I view thee panting, lying
On thy stomach, without sighing;
Can I unmoved see thee dying
On a log
Expiring frog!”’
‘Beautiful!’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘Fine,’ said Mr. Leo Hunter; ‘so simple.’
‘Very,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘The next verse is still more touching14. Shall I repeat it?’
‘If you please,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘It runs thus,’ said the grave man, still more gravely.
‘“Say, have fiends in shape of boys,
With wild halloo, and brutal15 noise,
Hunted thee from marshy16 joys,
With a dog,
Expiring frog!”’
‘Finely expressed,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘All point, Sir,’ said Mr. Leo Hunter; ‘but you shall hear Mrs. Leo Hunter repeat it. She can do justice to it, Sir. She will repeat it, in character, Sir, to-morrow morning.’
‘In character!’
‘As Minerva. But I forgot — it’s a fancy-dress DEJEUNE.’
‘Dear me,’ said Mr. Pickwick, glancing at his own figure —‘I can’t possibly —’
‘Can’t, sir; can’t!’ exclaimed Mr. Leo Hunter. ‘Solomon Lucas, the Jew in the High Street, has thousands of fancy-dresses. Consider, Sir, how many appropriate characters are open for your selection. Plato, Zeno, Epicurus, Pythagoras — all founders17 of clubs.’
‘I know that,’ said Mr. Pickwick; ‘but as I cannot put myself in competition with those great men, I cannot presume to wear their dresses.’
The grave man considered deeply, for a few seconds, and then said —
‘On reflection, Sir, I don’t know whether it would not afford Mrs. Leo Hunter greater pleasure, if her guests saw a gentleman of your celebrity18 in his own costume, rather than in an assumed one. I may venture to promise an exception in your case, sir — yes, I am quite certain that, on behalf of Mrs. Leo Hunter, I may venture to do so.’
‘In that case,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘I shall have great pleasure in coming.’
‘But I waste your time, Sir,’ said the grave man, as if suddenly recollecting19 himself. ‘I know its value, sir. I will not detain you. I may tell Mrs. Leo Hunter, then, that she may confidently expect you and your distinguished friends? Good-morning, Sir, I am proud to have beheld20 so eminent21 a personage — not a step sir; not a word.’ And without giving Mr. Pickwick time to offer remonstrance22 or denial, Mr. Leo Hunter stalked gravely away.
Mr. Pickwick took up his hat, and repaired to the Peacock, but Mr. Winkle had conveyed the intelligence of the fancy-ball there, before him.
‘Mrs. Pott’s going,’ were the first words with which he saluted23 his leader.
‘Is she?’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘As Apollo,’ replied Winkle. ‘Only Pott objects to the tunic24.’
‘He is right. He is quite right,’ said Mr. Pickwick emphatically.
‘Yes; so she’s going to wear a white satin gown with gold spangles.’
‘They’ll hardly know what she’s meant for; will they?’ inquired Mr. Snodgrass.
‘Of course they will,’ replied Mr. Winkle indignantly. ‘They’ll see her lyre, won’t they?’
‘True; I forgot that,’ said Mr. Snodgrass.
‘I shall go as a bandit,‘interposed Mr. Tupman.
‘What!’ said Mr. Pickwick, with a sudden start.
‘As a bandit,’ repeated Mr. Tupman, mildly.
‘You don’t mean to say,’ said Mr. Pickwick, gazing with solemn sternness at his friend —‘you don’t mean to say, Mr. Tupman, that it is your intention to put yourself into a green velvet25 jacket, with a two-inch tail?’
‘Such IS my intention, Sir,’ replied Mr. Tupman warmly. ‘And why not, sir?’
‘Because, Sir,’ said Mr. Pickwick, considerably26 excited —‘because you are too old, Sir.’
‘Too old!’ exclaimed Mr. Tupman.
‘And if any further ground of objection be wanting,’ continued Mr. Pickwick, ‘you are too fat, sir.’
‘Sir,’ said Mr. Tupman, his face suffused27 with a crimson28 glow, ‘this is an insult.’
‘Sir,’ replied Mr. Pickwick, in the same tone, ‘it is not half the insult to you, that your appearance in my presence in a green velvet jacket, with a two-inch tail, would be to me.’
‘Sir,’ said Mr. Tupman, ‘you’re a fellow.’
‘Sir,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘you’re another!’
Mr. Tupman advanced a step or two, and glared at Mr. Pickwick. Mr. Pickwick returned the glare, concentrated into a focus by means of his spectacles, and breathed a bold defiance29. Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle looked on, petrified30 at beholding32 such a scene between two such men.
‘Sir,’ said Mr. Tupman, after a short pause, speaking in a low, deep voice, ‘you have called me old.’
‘I have,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘And fat.’
‘I reiterate33 the charge.’
‘And a fellow.’
‘So you are!’
There was a fearful pause.
‘My attachment34 to your person, sir,’ said Mr. Tupman, speaking in a voice tremulous with emotion, and tucking up his wristbands meanwhile, ‘is great — very great — but upon that person, I must take summary vengeance35.’
‘Come on, Sir!’ replied Mr. Pickwick. Stimulated36 by the exciting nature of the dialogue, the heroic man actually threw himself into a paralytic37 attitude, confidently supposed by the two bystanders to have been intended as a posture38 of defence.
‘What!’ exclaimed Mr. Snodgrass, suddenly recovering the power of speech, of which intense astonishment39 had previously40 bereft41 him, and rushing between the two, at the imminent42 hazard of receiving an application on the temple from each —‘what! Mr. Pickwick, with the eyes of the world upon you! Mr. Tupman! who, in common with us all, derives a lustre43 from his undying name! For shame, gentlemen; for shame.’
The unwonted lines which momentary44 passion had ruled in Mr. Pickwick’s clear and open brow, gradually melted away, as his young friend spoke45, like the marks of a black-lead pencil beneath the softening46 influence of india-rubber. His countenance47 had resumed its usual benign48 expression, ere he concluded.
‘I have been hasty,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘very hasty. Tupman; your hand.’
The dark shadow passed from Mr. Tupman’s face, as he warmly grasped the hand of his friend.
‘I have been hasty, too,’ said he.
‘No, no,’ interrupted Mr. Pickwick, ‘the fault was mine. You will wear the green velvet jacket?’
‘No, no,’ replied Mr. Tupman.
‘To oblige me, you will,’ resumed Mr. Pickwick.
‘Well, well, I will,’ said Mr. Tupman.
It was accordingly settled that Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass, should all wear fancy-dresses. Thus Mr. Pickwick was led by the very warmth of his own good feelings to give his consent to a proceeding49 from which his better judgment50 would have recoiled51 — a more striking illustration of his amiable52 character could hardly have been conceived, even if the events recorded in these pages had been wholly imaginary.
Mr. Leo Hunter had not exaggerated the resources of Mr. Solomon Lucas. His wardrobe was extensive — very extensive — not strictly53 classical perhaps, not quite new, nor did it contain any one garment made precisely54 after the fashion of any age or time, but everything was more or less spangled; and what can be prettier than spangles! It may be objected that they are not adapted to the daylight, but everybody knows that they would glitter if there were lamps; and nothing can be clearer than that if people give fancy-balls in the day-time, and the dresses do not show quite as well as they would by night, the fault lies solely55 with the people who give the fancy-balls, and is in no wise chargeable on the spangles. Such was the convincing reasoning of Mr. Solomon Lucas; and influenced by such arguments did Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass engage to array themselves in costumes which his taste and experience induced him to recommend as admirably suited to the occasion.
A carriage was hired from the Town Arms, for the accommodation of the Pickwickians, and a chariot was ordered from the same repository, for the purpose of conveying Mr. and Mrs. Pott to Mrs. Leo Hunter’s grounds, which Mr. Pott, as a delicate acknowledgment of having received an invitation, had already confidently predicted in the Eatanswill GAZETTE ‘would present a scene of varied56 and delicious enchantment57 — a bewildering coruscation58 of beauty and talent — a lavish59 and prodigal60 display of hospitality — above all, a degree of splendour softened61 by the most exquisite62 taste; and adornment63 refined with perfect harmony and the chastest good keeping — compared with which, the fabled64 gorgeousness of Eastern fairyland itself would appear to be clothed in as many dark and murky65 colours, as must be the mind of the splenetic and unmanly being who could presume to taint66 with the venom67 of his envy, the preparations made by the virtuous68 and highly distinguished lady at whose shrine69 this humble70 tribute of admiration71 was offered.’ This last was a piece of biting sarcasm72 against the INDEPENDENT, who, in consequence of not having been invited at all, had been, through four numbers, affecting to sneer73 at the whole affair, in his very largest type, with all the adjectives in capital letters.
The morning came: it was a pleasant sight to behold31 Mr. Tupman in full brigand74’s costume, with a very tight jacket, sitting like a pincushion over his back and shoulders, the upper portion of his legs incased in the velvet shorts, and the lower part thereof swathed in the complicated bandages to which all brigands75 are peculiarly attached. It was pleasing to see his open and ingenuous76 countenance, well mustachioed and corked77, looking out from an open shirt collar; and to contemplate78 the sugar-loaf hat, decorated with ribbons of all colours, which he was compelled to carry on his knee, inasmuch as no known conveyance79 with a top to it, would admit of any man’s carrying it between his head and the roof. Equally humorous and agreeable was the appearance of Mr. Snodgrass in blue satin trunks and cloak, white silk tights and shoes, and Grecian helmet, which everybody knows (and if they do not, Mr. Solomon Lucas did) to have been the regular, authentic80, everyday costume of a troubadour, from the earliest ages down to the time of their final disappearance81 from the face of the earth. All this was pleasant, but this was as nothing compared with the shouting of the populace when the carriage drew up, behind Mr. Pott’s chariot, which chariot itself drew up at Mr. Pott’s door, which door itself opened, and displayed the great Pott accoutred as a Russian officer of justice, with a tremendous knout in his hand — tastefully typical of the stern and mighty83 power of the Eatanswill GAZETTE, and the fearful lashings it bestowed84 on public offenders86.
‘Bravo!’ shouted Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass from the passage, when they beheld the walking allegory.
‘Bravo!’ Mr. Pickwick was heard to exclaim, from the passage.
‘Hoo-roar Pott!’ shouted the populace. Amid these salutations, Mr. Pott, smiling with that kind of bland87 dignity which sufficiently88 testified that he felt his power, and knew how to exert it, got into the chariot.
Then there emerged from the house, Mrs. Pott, who would have looked very like Apollo if she hadn’t had a gown on, conducted by Mr. Winkle, who, in his light-red coat could not possibly have been mistaken for anything but a sportsman, if he had not borne an equal resemblance to a general postman. Last of all came Mr. Pickwick, whom the boys applauded as loud as anybody, probably under the impression that his tights and gaiters were some remnants of the dark ages; and then the two vehicles proceeded towards Mrs. Leo Hunter’s; Mr. Weller (who was to assist in waiting) being stationed on the box of that in which his master was seated.
Every one of the men, women, boys, girls, and babies, who were assembled to see the visitors in their fancy-dresses, screamed with delight and ecstasy89, when Mr. Pickwick, with the brigand on one arm, and the troubadour on the other, walked solemnly up the entrance. Never were such shouts heard as those which greeted Mr. Tupman’s efforts to fix the sugar-loaf hat on his head, by way of entering the garden in style.
The preparations were on the most delightful scale; fully82 realising the prophetic Pott’s anticipations90 about the gorgeousness of Eastern fairyland, and at once affording a sufficient contradiction to the malignant91 statements of the reptile92 INDEPENDENT. The grounds were more than an acre and a quarter in extent, and they were filled with people! Never was such a blaze of beauty, and fashion, and literature. There was the young lady who ‘did’ the poetry in the Eatanswill GAZETTE, in the garb93 of a sultana, leaning upon the arm of the young gentleman who ‘did’ the review department, and who was appropriately habited in a field-marshal’s uniform — the boots excepted. There were hosts of these geniuses, and any reasonable person would have thought it honour enough to meet them. But more than these, there were half a dozen lions from London — authors, real authors, who had written whole books, and printed them afterwards — and here you might see ’em, walking about, like ordinary men, smiling, and talking — aye, and talking pretty considerable nonsense too, no doubt with the benign intention of rendering94 themselves intelligible95 to the common people about them. Moreover, there was a band of music in pasteboard caps; four something-ean singers in the costume of their country, and a dozen hired waiters in the costume of THEIR country — and very dirty costume too. And above all, there was Mrs. Leo Hunter in the character of Minerva, receiving the company, and overflowing96 with pride and gratification at the notion of having called such distinguished individuals together.
‘Mr. Pickwick, ma’am,’ said a servant, as that gentleman approached the presiding goddess, with his hat in his hand, and the brigand and troubadour on either arm.
‘What! Where!’ exclaimed Mrs. Leo Hunter, starting up, in an affected97 rapture98 of surprise.
‘Here,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘Is it possible that I have really the gratification of beholding Mr. Pickwick himself!’ ejaculated Mrs. Leo Hunter.
‘No other, ma’am,’ replied Mr. Pickwick, bowing very low. ‘Permit me to introduce my friends — Mr. Tupman — Mr. Winkle — Mr. Snodgrass — to the authoress of “The Expiring Frog.”’ Very few people but those who have tried it, know what a difficult process it is to bow in green velvet smalls, and a tight jacket, and high-crowned hat; or in blue satin trunks and white silks, or knee-cords and top-boots that were never made for the wearer, and have been fixed99 upon him without the remotest reference to the comparative dimensions of himself and the suit. Never were such distortions as Mr. Tupman’s frame underwent in his efforts to appear easy and graceful100 — never was such ingenious posturing101, as his fancy-dressed friends exhibited.
‘Mr. Pickwick,’ said Mrs. Leo Hunter, ‘I must make you promise not to stir from my side the whole day. There are hundreds of people here, that I must positively102 introduce you to.’
‘You are very kind, ma’am,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘In the first place, here are my little girls; I had almost forgotten them,’ said Minerva, carelessly pointing towards a couple of full-grown young ladies, of whom one might be about twenty, and the other a year or two older, and who were dressed in very juvenile103 costumes — whether to make them look young, or their mamma younger, Mr. Pickwick does not distinctly inform us.
‘They are very beautiful,’ said Mr. Pickwick, as the juveniles104 turned away, after being presented.
‘They are very like their mamma, Sir,’ said Mr. Pott, majestically105.
‘Oh, you naughty man,’ exclaimed Mrs. Leo Hunter, playfully tapping the editor’s arm with her fan (Minerva with a fan!).
‘Why now, my dear Mrs. Hunter,’ said Mr. Pott, who was trumpeter in ordinary at the Den, ‘you know that when your picture was in the exhibition of the Royal Academy, last year, everybody inquired whether it was intended for you, or your youngest daughter; for you were so much alike that there was no telling the difference between you.’
‘Well, and if they did, why need you repeat it, before strangers?’ said Mrs. Leo Hunter, bestowing106 another tap on the slumbering107 lion of the Eatanswill GAZETTE.
‘Count, count,’ screamed Mrs. Leo Hunter to a well-whiskered individual in a foreign uniform, who was passing by.
‘Ah! you want me?’ said the count, turning back.
‘I want to introduce two very clever people to each other,’ said Mrs. Leo Hunter. ‘Mr. Pickwick, I have great pleasure in introducing you to Count Smorltork.’ She added in a hurried whisper to Mr. Pickwick —‘The famous foreigner — gathering108 materials for his great work on England — hem4! — Count Smorltork, Mr. Pickwick.’ Mr. Pickwick saluted the count with all the reverence109 due to so great a man, and the count drew forth a set of tablets.
‘What you say, Mrs. Hunt?’ inquired the count, smiling graciously on the gratified Mrs. Leo Hunter, ‘Pig Vig or Big Vig — what you call — lawyer — eh? I see — that is it. Big Vig’— and the count was proceeding to enter Mr. Pickwick in his tablets, as a gentleman of the long robe, who derived110 his name from the profession to which he belonged, when Mrs. Leo Hunter interposed.
‘No, no, count,’ said the lady, ‘Pick-wick.’
‘Ah, ah, I see,’ replied the count. ‘Peek111 — christian112 name; Weeks — surname; good, ver good. Peek Weeks. How you do, Weeks?’
‘Quite well, I thank you,’ replied Mr. Pickwick, with all his usual affability. ‘Have you been long in England?’
‘Long — ver long time — fortnight — more.’
‘Do you stay here long?’
‘One week.’
‘You will have enough to do,’ said Mr. Pickwick smiling, ‘to gather all the materials you want in that time.’
‘Eh, they are gathered,’ said the count.
‘Indeed!’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘They are here,’ added the count, tapping his forehead significantly. ‘Large book at home — full of notes — music, picture, science, potry, poltic; all tings.’
‘The word politics, sir,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘comprises in itself, a difficult study of no inconsiderable magnitude.’
‘Ah!’ said the count, drawing out the tablets again, ‘ver good — fine words to begin a chapter. Chapter forty-seven. Poltics. The word poltic surprises by himself —’ And down went Mr. Pickwick’s remark, in Count Smorltork’s tablets, with such variations and additions as the count’s exuberant113 fancy suggested, or his imperfect knowledge of the language occasioned.
‘Count,’ said Mrs. Leo Hunter. ‘Mrs. Hunt,’ replied the count.
‘This is Mr. Snodgrass, a friend of Mr. Pickwick’s, and a poet.’
‘Stop,’ exclaimed the count, bringing out the tablets once more. ‘Head, potry — chapter, literary friends — name, Snowgrass; ver good. Introduced to Snowgrass — great poet, friend of Peek Weeks — by Mrs. Hunt, which wrote other sweet poem — what is that name? — Fog — Perspiring114 Fog — ver good — ver good indeed.’ And the count put up his tablets, and with sundry115 bows and acknowledgments walked away, thoroughly116 satisfied that he had made the most important and valuable additions to his stock of information.
‘Wonderful man, Count Smorltork,’ said Mrs. Leo Hunter.
‘Sound philosopher,’ said Mr. Pott.
‘Clear-headed, strong-minded person,’ added Mr. Snodgrass.
A chorus of bystanders took up the shout of Count Smorltork’s praise, shook their heads sagely117, and unanimously cried, ‘Very!’
As the enthusiasm in Count Smorltork’s favour ran very high, his praises might have been sung until the end of the festivities, if the four something-ean singers had not ranged themselves in front of a small apple-tree, to look picturesque118, and commenced singing their national songs, which appeared by no means difficult of execution, inasmuch as the grand secret seemed to be, that three of the something-ean singers should grunt119, while the fourth howled. This interesting performance having concluded amidst the loud plaudits of the whole company, a boy forthwith proceeded to entangle120 himself with the rails of a chair, and to jump over it, and crawl under it, and fall down with it, and do everything but sit upon it, and then to make a cravat121 of his legs, and tie them round his neck, and then to illustrate122 the ease with which a human being can be made to look like a magnified toad123 — all which feats124 yielded high delight and satisfaction to the assembled spectators. After which, the voice of Mrs. Pott was heard to chirp125 faintly forth, something which courtesy interpreted into a song, which was all very classical, and strictly in character, because Apollo was himself a composer, and composers can very seldom sing their own music or anybody else’s, either. This was succeeded by Mrs. Leo Hunter’s recitation of her far-famed ‘Ode to an Expiring Frog,’ which was encored once, and would have been encored twice, if the major part of the guests, who thought it was high time to get something to eat, had not said that it was perfectly shameful126 to take advantage of Mrs. Hunter’s good nature. So although Mrs. Leo Hunter professed127 her perfect willingness to recite the ode again, her kind and considerate friends wouldn’t hear of it on any account; and the refreshment128 room being thrown open, all the people who had ever been there before, scrambled129 in with all possible despatch130 — Mrs. Leo Hunter’s usual course of proceedings131 being, to issue cards for a hundred, and breakfast for fifty, or in other words to feed only the very particular lions, and let the smaller animals take care of themselves.
‘Where is Mr. Pott?’ said Mrs. Leo Hunter, as she placed the aforesaid lions around her.
‘Here I am,’ said the editor, from the remotest end of the room; far beyond all hope of food, unless something was done for him by the hostess.
‘Won’t you come up here?’
‘Oh, pray don’t mind him,’ said Mrs. Pott, in the most obliging voice —‘you give yourself a great deal of unnecessary trouble, Mrs. Hunter. You’ll do very well there, won’t you — dear?’
‘Certainly — love,’ replied the unhappy Pott, with a grim smile. Alas132 for the knout! The nervous arm that wielded133 it, with such a gigantic force on public characters, was paralysed beneath the glance of the imperious Mrs. Pott.
Mrs. Leo Hunter looked round her in triumph. Count Smorltork was busily engaged in taking notes of the contents of the dishes; Mr. Tupman was doing the honours of the lobster134 salad to several lionesses, with a degree of grace which no brigand ever exhibited before; Mr. Snodgrass having cut out the young gentleman who cut up the books for the Eatanswill GAZETTE, was engaged in an impassioned argument with the young lady who did the poetry; and Mr. Pickwick was making himself universally agreeable. Nothing seemed wanting to render the select circle complete, when Mr. Leo Hunter — whose department on these occasions, was to stand about in doorways135, and talk to the less important people — suddenly called out — ‘My dear; here’s Mr. Charles Fitz–Marshall.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Mrs. Leo Hunter, ‘how anxiously I have been expecting him. Pray make room, to let Mr. Fitz–Marshall pass. Tell Mr. Fitz–Marshall, my dear, to come up to me directly, to be scolded for coming so late.’
‘Coming, my dear ma’am,’ cried a voice, ‘as quick as I can — crowds of people — full room — hard work — very.’
Mr. Pickwick’s knife and fork fell from his hand. He stared across the table at Mr. Tupman, who had dropped his knife and fork, and was looking as if he were about to sink into the ground without further notice.
‘Ah!’ cried the voice, as its owner pushed his way among the last five-and-twenty Turks, officers, cavaliers, and Charles the Seconds, that remained between him and the table, ‘regular mangle136 — Baker’s patent — not a crease137 in my coat, after all this squeezing — might have “got up my linen” as I came along — ha! ha! not a bad idea, that — queer thing to have it mangled138 when it’s upon one, though — trying process — very.’
With these broken words, a young man dressed as a naval139 officer made his way up to the table, and presented to the astonished Pickwickians the identical form and features of Mr. Alfred Jingle140. The offender85 had barely time to take Mrs. Leo Hunter’s proffered141 hand, when his eyes encountered the indignant orbs142 of Mr. Pickwick.
‘Hollo!’ said Jingle. ‘Quite forgot — no directions to postillion — give ’em at once — back in a minute.’
‘The servant, or Mr. Hunter will do it in a moment, Mr. Fitz–Marshall,’ said Mrs. Leo Hunter.
‘No, no — I’ll do it — shan’t be long — back in no time,’ replied Jingle. With these words he disappeared among the crowd.
‘Will you allow me to ask you, ma’am,’ said the excited Mr. Pickwick, rising from his seat, ‘who that young man is, and where he resides?’
‘He is a gentleman of fortune, Mr. Pickwick,’ said Mrs. Leo Hunter, ‘to whom I very much want to introduce you. The count will be delighted with him.’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Mr. Pickwick hastily. ‘His residence —’
‘Is at present at the Angel at Bury.’
‘At Bury?’
‘At Bury St. Edmunds, not many miles from here. But dear me, Mr. Pickwick, you are not going to leave us; surely Mr. Pickwick you cannot think of going so soon?’
But long before Mrs. Leo Hunter had finished speaking, Mr. Pickwick had plunged143 through the throng144, and reached the garden, whither he was shortly afterwards joined by Mr. Tupman, who had followed his friend closely.
‘It’s of no use,’ said Mr. Tupman. ‘He has gone.’
‘I know it,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘and I will follow him.’
‘Follow him! Where?’ inquired Mr. Tupman.
‘To the Angel at Bury,’ replied Mr. Pickwick, speaking very quickly. ‘How do we know whom he is deceiving there? He deceived a worthy145 man once, and we were the innocent cause. He shall not do it again, if I can help it; I’ll expose him! Sam! Where’s my servant?’
‘Here you are, Sir,’ said Mr. Weller, emerging from a sequestered146 spot, where he had been engaged in discussing a bottle of Madeira, which he had abstracted from the breakfast-table an hour or two before. ‘Here’s your servant, Sir. Proud o’ the title, as the living skellinton said, ven they show’d him.’
‘Follow me instantly,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘Tupman, if I stay at Bury, you can join me there, when I write. Till then, good-bye!’
Remonstrances147 were useless. Mr. Pickwick was roused, and his mind was made up. Mr. Tupman returned to his companions; and in another hour had drowned all present recollection of Mr. Alfred Jingle, or Mr. Charles Fitz–Marshall, in an exhilarating quadrille and a bottle of champagne148. By that time, Mr. Pickwick and Sam Weller, perched on the outside of a stage-coach, were every succeeding minute placing a less and less distance between themselves and the good old town of Bury St. Edmunds.
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portraiture
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| n.肖像画法 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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7
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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8
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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9
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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10
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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11
derives
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| v.得到( derive的第三人称单数 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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12
sonnet
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| n.十四行诗 | |
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13
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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14
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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15
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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16
marshy
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| adj.沼泽的 | |
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17
founders
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| n.创始人( founder的名词复数 ) | |
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18
celebrity
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| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
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19
recollecting
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| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
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20
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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21
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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22
remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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23
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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24
tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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25
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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26
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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27
suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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29
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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30
petrified
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| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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31
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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32
beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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33
reiterate
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| v.重申，反复地说 | |
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34
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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35
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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36
stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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37
paralytic
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| adj. 瘫痪的 n. 瘫痪病人 | |
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38
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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39
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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40
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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41
bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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42
imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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43
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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44
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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45
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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46
softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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47
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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48
benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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49
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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50
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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51
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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52
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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53
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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54
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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55
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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56
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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57
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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58
coruscation
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| n.闪光，焕发 | |
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59
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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60
prodigal
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| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
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61
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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62
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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63
adornment
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| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
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64
fabled
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| adj.寓言中的，虚构的 | |
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65
murky
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| adj.黑暗的，朦胧的；adv.阴暗地，混浊地；n.阴暗；昏暗 | |
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66
taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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67
venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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68
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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69
shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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70
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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71
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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72
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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73
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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74
brigand
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| n.土匪，强盗 | |
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75
brigands
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| n.土匪，强盗( brigand的名词复数 ) | |
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76
ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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77
corked
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| adj.带木塞气味的，塞着瓶塞的v.用瓶塞塞住( cork的过去式 ) | |
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78
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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79
conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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80
authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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81
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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82
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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83
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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84
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
offender
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| n.冒犯者，违反者，犯罪者 | |
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86
offenders
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| n.冒犯者( offender的名词复数 )；犯规者；罪犯；妨害…的人（或事物） | |
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87
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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88
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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89
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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90
anticipations
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| 预期( anticipation的名词复数 )； 预测； （信托财产收益的）预支； 预期的事物 | |
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91
malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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92
reptile
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| n.爬行动物；两栖动物 | |
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93
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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94
rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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95
intelligible
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| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
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96
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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97
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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98
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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99
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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100
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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101
posturing
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| 做出某种姿势( posture的现在分词 ) | |
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102
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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103
juvenile
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| n.青少年，少年读物；adj.青少年的，幼稚的 | |
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104
juveniles
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| n.青少年( juvenile的名词复数 )；扮演少年角色的演员；未成年人 | |
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105
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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106
bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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107
slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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108
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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109
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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110
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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111
peek
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| vi.偷看，窥视；n.偷偷的一看，一瞥 | |
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112
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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113
exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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114
perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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115
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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116
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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117
sagely
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| adv. 贤能地，贤明地 | |
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118
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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119
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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120
entangle
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| vt.缠住，套住；卷入，连累 | |
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121
cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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122
illustrate
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| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
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123
toad
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
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124
feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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125
chirp
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| v.(尤指鸟)唧唧喳喳的叫 | |
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126
shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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127
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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128
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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129
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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130
despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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131
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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132
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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133
wielded
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| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的过去式和过去分词 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
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134
lobster
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| n.龙虾，龙虾肉 | |
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135
doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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136
mangle
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| vt.乱砍，撕裂，破坏，毁损，损坏，轧布 | |
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137
crease
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| n.折缝，褶痕，皱褶；v.(使)起皱 | |
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138
mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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139
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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140
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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141
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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142
orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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143
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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144
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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145
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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146
sequestered
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| adj.扣押的；隐退的；幽静的；偏僻的v.使隔绝，使隔离( sequester的过去式和过去分词 )；扣押 | |
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147
remonstrances
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| n.抱怨，抗议( remonstrance的名词复数 ) | |
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148
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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