The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Volume 01Smollett, T. (Tobias)
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The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Volume 01
Smollett, T. (Tobias)
Adventure stories; Gothic fiction
The count was so much enraged at these sarcastic observations, that his
faculty of speech was overwhelmed by his resentment; though, in order to
acquit himself of the Englishman's imputation, he forthwith pulled off
his clothes with such fury, that his brocade waistcoat was tore from top
to bottom. The knight, mistaking his meaning, considered this demeanour
as a fair challenge, to try which was the better man in the exercise of
boxing; and, on that supposition, began to strip in his turn, when he was
undeceived by Fathom, who put the right interpretation upon the count's
behaviour, and begged that the affair might be compromised. By this time
the Westphalian recovered the use of his tongue, and with many threats
and imprecations, desired they would take notice how falsely he had been
aspersed, and do him justice in espousing his claim to the damsel in
question.
Before the company had time or inclination to interest themselves in the
quarrel, his opponent observed that no person who was not a mere German,
would ever dream of forcing the inclinations of a pretty girl, whom the
accidents of fortune had subjected to his power; that such compulsion was
equivalent to the most cruel rape that could be committed; and that the
lady's aversion was not at all surprising; for, to speak his own
sentiments, were he a woman of pleasure, he would as soon grant favours
to a Westphalian hog, as to the person of his antagonist. The German,
enraged at this comparison, was quite abandoned by his patience and
discretion. He called the knight an English clown, and, swearing he
was the most untoward beast of a whole nation of mules, snatched up one
of the candlesticks, which he launched at him with such force and
violence, that it sung through the air, and, winging its flight into the
ante-chamber, encountered the skull of his own valet, who with immediate
prostration received the message of his master.
The knight, that he might not be behindhand with the Westphalian in point
of courtesy, returned the compliment with the remaining chandelier, which
also missed its mark, and, smiting a large mirror that was fixed behind
them, emitted such a crash as one might expect to hear if a mine were
sprung beneath a manufacture of glass. Both lights being thus
extinguished, a furious combat ensued in the dark; the Italian scampered
off with infinite agility, and, as he went downstairs, desired that
nobody would interpose, because it was an affair of honour, which could
not be made up. The ladies consulted their safety in flight; Count
Fathom slyly retired to one corner of the room; while the abbe, having
upon him the terrors of the commissaire, endeavoured to appease and part
the combatants, and, in the attempt, sustained a random blow upon his
nose, which sent him howling into the other chamber, where, finding his
band besmeared with his own blood, he began to caper about the apartment,
in a transport of rage and vexation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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