The Collected Works of Frances Burney (Illustrated Edition). Frances Burney
whom she soon found was Mrs Belfield’s landlord: “I would not go up stairs without just stopping to let you know a little how the world goes.”
Then perceiving and recollecting Cecilia, he exclaimed “I am proud to see you again, ma’am — Miss, I believe I should say, for I take it you are too young a lady to be entered into matrimony yet.”
“Matrimony?” cried Mr Simkins, “no, to be sure, Mr Hobson, how can you be so out of the way? the young lady looks more like to a Miss from a boarding-school, if I might take the liberty for to say so.”
“Ay, more’s the pity,” cried Mrs Belfield, “for as to young ladies waiting and waiting, I don’t see the great good of it; especially if a proper match offers; for as to a good husband, I think no lady should be above accepting him, if he’s modest and well-behaved, and has been brought up with a genteel education.”
“Why as to that, ma’am,” said Mr Simkins, “it’s another guess matter, for as to the lady’s having a proper spouse, if I may be so free, I think as it’s no bad thing.”
Cecilia now, taking Henrietta’s hand, was wishing her good morning; but hearing Mr Hobson say he was just come from Portman-square, her curiosity was excited, and she stayed a little longer.
“Sad work, ma’am,” said he; “who’d have thought Mr Harrel asked us all to supper for the mere purpose of such a thing as that! just to serve for a blind, as one may say. But when a man’s conscience is foul, what I say is it’s ten to one but he makes away with himself. Let every man keep clear of the world, that’s my notion, and then he will be in no such hurry to get out of it.”
“Why indeed, ma’am,” said Mr Simkins, advancing with many bows to Cecilia, “humbly craving pardon for the liberty, I can’t pretend for to say I think Mr Harrel did quite the honourable thing by us; for as to his making us drink all that champagne, and the like, it was a sheer take in, so that if I was to speak my mind, I can’t say as I esteem it much of a favour.”
“Well,” said Mrs Belfield, “nothing’s to me so surprising as a person’s being his own executioner, for as to me, if I was to die for it fifty times, I don’t think I could do it.”
“So here,” resumed Mr Hobson, “we’re all defrauded of our dues! nobody’s able to get his own, let him have worked for it ever so hard. Sad doings in the square, Miss! all at sixes and sevens; for my part I came off from Vauxhall as soon as the thing had happened, hoping to get the start of the others, or else I should have been proud to wait upon you, ladies, with the particulars: but a man of business never stands upon ceremony, for when money’s at stake, that’s out of the question. However, I was too late, for the house was seized before ever I could get nigh it.”
“I hope, ma’am, if I may be so free,” said Mr Simkins, again profoundly bowing, “that you and the other lady did not take it much amiss my not coming back to you, for it was not out of no disrespect, but only I got so squeezed in by the ladies and gentlemen that was looking on, that I could not make my, way out, do what I could. But by what I see, I must needs say if one’s never in such genteel company, people are always rather of the rudest when one’s in a crowd, for if one begs and prays never so, there’s no making ’em conformable.”
“Pray,” said Cecilia, “is it likely any thing will remain for Mrs Harrel?”
“Remain, ma’am?” repeated Mr Hobson, “Yes, a matter of a hundred bills without a receipt to ’em! To be sure, ma’am, I don’t want to affront you, that was his intimate acquaintance, more especially as you’ve done nothing disrespectful by me, which is more than I can say for Mrs Harrel, who seemed downright ashamed of me, and of Mr Simkins too, though all things considered, it would have been as well for her not to have been quite so high. But of that in its proper season!”
“Fie, Mr Hobson fie,” cried the supple Mr Simkins, “how can you be so hard? for my share, I must needs own I think the poor lady’s to be pitied; for it must have been but a melancholy sight to her, to see her spouse cut off so in the flower of his youth, as one may say: and you ought to scorn to take exceptions at a lady’s proudness when she’s in so much trouble. To be sure, I can’t say myself as she was over-complaisant to make us welcome; but I hope I am above being so unpitiful as for to owe her a grudge for it now she’s so down in the mouth.”
“Let everybody be civil!” cried Mr Hobson, “that’s my notion; and then I shall be as much above being unpitiful as anybody else.”
“Mrs Harrel,” said Cecilia, “was then too unhappy, and is now, surely, too unfortunate, to make it possible any resentment should be harboured against her.”
“You speak, ma’am, like a lady of sense,” returned Mr Hobson, “and, indeed, that’s the character I hear of you; but for all that, ma’am, every body’s willing to stand up for their own friends, for which reason, ma’am, to be sure you’ll be making the best of it, both for the Relict, and the late gentleman himself; but, ma’am, if I was to make bold to speak my mind in a fair manner, what I should say would be this: a man here to go shooting himself with all his debts unpaid, is a mere piece of scandal, ma’am! I beg pardon, but what I say is, the truth’s the truth, and I can’t call it by no other nomination.”
Cecilia now, finding she had not any chance of pacifying him, rang for her servant and chair.
Mr Simkins then, affecting to lower his voice, said reproachfully to his friend “Indeed, Mr Hobson, to speak ingenusly, I must needs say I don’t think it over and above pelite in you to be so hard upon the young lady’s acquaintance that was, now he’s defunct. To be sure I can’t pretend for to deny but he behaved rather comical; for not paying of nobody, nor so much as making one a little compliment, or the like, though he made no bones of taking all one’s goods, and always chused to have the prime of every thing, why it’s what I can’t pretend to stand up for. But that’s neither here nor there, for if he had behaved as bad again, poor Miss could not tell how to help it; and I dares to say she had no more hand in it than nobody at all.”
“No, to be sure,” cried Mrs Belfield, “what should she have to do with it? Do you suppose a young lady of her fortune would want to take advantage of a person in trade? I am sure it would be both a shame and a sin if she did, for if she has not money enough, I wonder who has. And for my part, I think when a young lady has such a fine fortune as that, the only thing she has to do, is to be thinking of making a good use of it, by dividing it, as one may say, with a good husband. For as to keeping it all for herself, I dare say she’s a lady of too much generosity; and as to only marrying somebody that’s got as much of his own, why it is not half so much a favour: and if the young lady would take my advice, she’d marry for love, for as to lucre, she’s enough in all conscience.”
“As to all that,” said Mr Hobson, “it makes no alteration in my argument; I am speaking to the purpose, and not for the matter of complaisance: and therefore I’m bold to say Mr Harrel’s action had nothing of the gentleman in it. A man has a right to his own life, you’ll tell me; but what of that? that’s no argument at all, for it does not give him a bit the more right to my property; and a man’s running in debt, and spending other people’s substances, for no reason in the world but just because he can blow out his own brains when he’s done — though it’s a thing neither lawful nor religious to do — why it’s acting quite out of character, and a great hardship to trade into the bargain.”
“I heartily wish it had been otherwise,” said Cecilia; “but I still hope, if any thing can be done for Mrs Harrel, you will not object to such a proposal.”
“Ma’am, as I said before,” returned Mr Hobson, “I see you’re a lady of sense, and for that I honour you: but as to any thing being done, it’s what I call a distinct thing. What’s mine is mine, and what’s another man’s is his; that’s my way of arguing; but then if he takes what’s mine, where’s the law to hinder my taking what’s his? This is what I call talking to the purpose. Now as to a man’s cutting his throat, or the like of that, for blowing out his own brains may be called the self-same thing, what are his creditors the better for that? nothing at all,