He directed his valet de chambre, who was a thorough-paced pimp, to kindle some straw in the yard, and then pass by the door of her apartment, crying with a loud voice that the house was on fire. This alarm brought both ladies out of their chamber in a moment, and Peregrine taking the advantage of their running to the street door, entered the room and concealed himself under a large table that stood in an unobserved corner. The nymphs, as soon as they understood the cause of his Mercury’s supposed affright,1 returned to their apartment, and having said their prayers, undressed themselves and went to bed. This scene, which fell under the observation of Pickle, did not at all contribute to the cooling of his concupiscence, but on the contrary, inflamed him to such a degree, that he could scarce restrain his impatience, until by her snoring, he concluded the fellow-lodger of his Amanda was asleep. This welcome note no sooner saluted his ears, than he crept to his charmer’s bed-side, and placing himself on his knees, gently laid hold on her white hand, and pressed it to his lips. She had just begun to close her eyes, and enjoy the agreeable oppression of slumber, when she was roused by this rape, at which she started, pronouncing in a tone of surprize and dismay, “My god! who’s that?” The lover, with the most insinuating humility, besought her to hear him; vowing that his intention in approaching her thus, was not to violate the laws of decency, or that indelible esteem which she had engraven on his heart; but to manifest his sorrow and contrition for the umbrage he had given, to pour forth the overflowings of his soul, and tell her that he neither could nor would survive her displeasure. These and many more pathetic protestations, accompanied with sighs and tears, and other expressions of genuine grief, which our hero had at command, could not fail to melt the tender heart of the amiable Fleming, already prepossessed in favour of his qualifications. She sympathized so much with his affliction, as to weep in her turn, when she represented the impossibility of her rewarding his passion; and he seizing the favourable moment, reinforced his sollicitations with such irresistible transports, that her resolution gave way, she began to breathe quick and deep, expressed her fear of being overheard by the other lady, and with an ejaculation of “O heavens! I’m undone”: suffered herself, after a faint struggle, to be overpowered by her admirer, who made a lodgment upon the covered way of her bed,2 under the curtain of the counterscarp;3 and in all probability, would have in a few moments made himself master of the place; when her honour was secured for the present, by a strange sort of knocking upon the wainscot, at the other end of the room, hard by the bed in which the female adventurer lay. Surprised at this circumstance which interrupted our assailant’s operations, the lady begged him for heaven’s sake to retreat, else her reputation would be ruined for ever: but when he represented to her, that her character would run a much greater risk, if he should be detected in withdrawing, she consented with great trepidation to his stay, and they listened in silence to the sequel of the noise that alarmed them. This was no other than an expedient of the painter, to awaken his Dulcinea, with whom he had made an assignation, or at least interchanged such signals as he thought amounted to a firm appointment. His nymph being disturbed in her first sleep, immediately understood the sound, and true to the agreement, rose, and unbolting the door as softly as possible, gave him admittance, leaving it open for his more commodious retreat.
While this happy gallant was employed in disengaging himself from the dishabille in which he had entered, the Capuchin suspecting that Peregrine would make another attempt upon his charge, had crept silently to the apartment, in order to reconnoitre, lest the adventure should be atchieved without his knowledge; a circumstance that would deprive him of the profits he might expect from his privity and concurrence. Finding the door unlatched, his suspicion was confirmed, and he made no scruple of creeping into the chamber on all-four; so that the painter having stript himself to the shirt, in groping about for his Dulcinea’s bed, chanced to lay his hand upon the shaven crown of the father’s head, which by a circular motion, the priest began to turn round in his grasp, like a ball in a socket, to the surprize and consternation of poor Pallet, who having neither penetration to comprehend the case, nor resolution to withdraw his fingers from this strange object of his touch, stood sweating in the dark, and vented ejaculations with great devotion, till the friar tired with this exercise, and the painful posture in which he stooped, raised himself gradually upon his feet, heaving up at the same time the hand of the painter, whose terror and amazement increased to such a degree at this unaccountable elevation, that his faculties began to fail; and his palm in the confusion of his fright sliding over the priest’s forehead, one of his fingers happened to slip into his mouth, and was immediately secured between the Capuchin’s teeth, with as firm a fixture, as if it had been screwed in a blacksmith’s vice. The painter was so much disordered by this sudden snap, which tortured him to the bone, that forgetting all other considerations, he roared aloud, “Murder! fire! a trap, a trap! help, christians, for the love of God help!” Our hero confounded by these exclamations, which he knew would soon fill the room with spectators, and incensed at his own mortifying disappointment, was obliged to quit the untasted banquet, and approaching the cause of his misfortune, just as his tormentor had thought proper to release his finger, discharged such a hearty slap between his shoulders, as brought him to the ground with hideous bellowing, then retiring unperceived, to his own chamber, was one of the first who returned with a light, on pretence of having been alarmed with his cries. The Capuchin had taken the same precaution, and followed Peregrine into the room, pronouncing Benedicite,4 and crossing himself with many marks of astonishment; and the physician and Jolter appearing at the same time, the unfortunate painter was found lying naked on the floor, in all the agony of horror and dismay, blowing upon his left hand, that hung dangling from the elbow, like a boy who had burnt his fingers, in attempting to snatch roasted chesnuts from the fire. The circumstance of his being found in that apartment, and the attitude of his affliction, which was extremely ridiculous, provoked the doctor to a smile, and produced a small relaxation in the severity of the governor’s countenance; while Pickle, testifying surprize and concern, lifted him from the ground, and enquired into the cause of his present situation. Having, after some recollection, and fruitless endeavours to speak, recovered the use of his tongue, he told them that the house was certainly haunted by evil spirits, by which he had been conveyed (he knew not how) into that apartment, and afflicted with all the tortures of hell; that one of them had made itself sensible to his feeling, in the shape of a round ball of smooth flesh, that turned round under his hand, like an astronomer’s globe,5 and then rising up to a surprising height, was converted into a machine that laid hold on his finger, by a snap, and having pinned him to the spot, he continued for some moments in unspeakable agony, till at last the engine seemed to melt away from his finger, and he received a sudden thwack upon his shoulders, as if discharged by the arm of a giant, which overthrew him in an instant upon the floor. The priest hearing this strange account, pulled out of one of his pouches a piece of consecrated candle, which he lighted immediately, and muttered certain mysterious conjurations. Jolter, imagining that Pallet was drunk, shook his head, saying, he believed the spirit was no where but in his own brain. The physician, for once, condescended to be a wag, and looking towards one of the beds, observed, that in his opinion, the painter had been misled by the flesh, and not by the spirit. The fair Fleming lay in silent astonishment and affright; and her fellow-lodger, in order to acquit herself of all suspicion, exclaimed with incredible volubility, against the author of this uproar, who (she did not doubt) had concealed himself in the apartment, with a view of perpetrating some wicked attempt upon her precious virtue, and was punished and prevented by the immediate interposition of heaven. At her desire, therefore, and the earnest sollicitation of the other lady, he was conducted to his own bed, and the chamber being evacuated, they locked their door, fully resolved to admit no more visitants for that night: while Peregrine, mad with seeing the delicious morsel, snatched (as it were) from his very lip, stalked through the passage, like a ghost, in hopes of finding some opportunity of re-entering, till the day beginning to break, he was obliged to retire, cursing the ideotical conduct of the painter, which had so unluckily interfered with his delight.