XII
The Mortgager and Mortgag√©e differ the one from the other, not more in length of purse, than the Jester and Jest√©e do, in that of memory. But in this the comparison between them runs, as the scholiasts call it, upon all-four; which, by the by, is upon one or two legs more than some of the best of HomerвАЩs can pretend to;вБ†вАФnamely, That the one raises a sum, and the other a laugh at your expense, and thinks no more about it. Interest, however, still runs on in both cases;вБ†вАФthe periodical or accidental payments of it, just serving to keep the memory of the affair alive; till, at length, in some evil hour,вБ†вАФpop comes the creditor upon each, and by demanding principal upon the spot, together with full interest to the very day, makes them both feel the full extent of their obligations.
As the reader (for I hate your ifs) has a thorough knowledge of human nature, I need not say more to satisfy him, that my Hero could not go on at this rate without some slight experience of these incidental mementos. To speak the truth, he had wantonly involved himself in a multitude of small book-debts of this stamp, which, notwithstanding EugeniusвАЩs frequent advice, he too much disregarded; thinking, that as not one of them was contracted throвАЩ any malignancy;вБ†вАФbut, on the contrary, from an honesty of mind, and a mere jocundity of humour, they would all of them be crossвАЩd out in course.
Eugenius would never admit this; and would often tell him, that one day or other he would certainly be reckoned with; and he would often add, in an accent of sorrowful apprehension,вБ†вАФto the uttermost mite. To which Yorick, with his usual carelessness of heart, would as often answer with a pshaw!вБ†вАФand if the subject was started in the fieldsвБ†вАФwith a hop, skip, and a jump at the end of it; but if close pent up in the social chimney-corner, where the culprit was barricadoвАЩd in, with a table and a couple of armchairs, and could not so readily fly off in a tangent,вБ†вАФEugenius would then go on with his lecture upon discretion in words to this purpose, though somewhat better put together.
Trust me, dear Yorick, this unwary pleasantry of thine will sooner or later bring thee into scrapes and difficulties, which no after-wit can extricate thee out of.вБ†вЄЇвБ†In these sallies, too oft, I see, it happens, that a person laughed at, considers himself in the light of a person injured, with all the rights of such a situation belonging to him; and when thou viewest him in that light too, and reckons up his friends, his family, his kindred and allies,вБ†вЄЇвБ†and musters up with them the many recruits which will list under him from a sense of common danger;вБ†вЄЇвАЩtis no extravagant arithmetick to say, that for every ten jokes,вБ†вАФthou hast got an hundred enemies; and till thou hast gone on, and raised a swarm of wasps about thine ears, and art half stung to death by them, thou wilt never be convinced it is so.
I cannot suspect it in the man whom I esteem, that there is the least spur from spleen or malevolence of intent in these salliesвБ†вЄЇвБ†I believe and know them to be truly honest and sportive:вБ†вАФBut consider, my dear lad, that fools cannot distinguish this,вБ†вАФand that knaves will not: and thou knowest not what it is, either to provoke the one, or to make merry with the other:вБ†вЄЇвБ†whenever they associate for mutual defence, depend upon it, they will carry on the war in such a manner against thee, my dear friend, as to make thee heartily sick of it, and of thy life too.
Revenge from some baneful corner shall level a tale of dishonour at thee, which no innocence of heart or integrity of conduct shall set right.вБ†вЄЇвБ†The fortunes of thy house shall totter,вБ†вАФthy character, which led the way to them, shall bleed on every side of it,вБ†вАФthy faith questioned,вБ†вАФthy works belied,вБ†вАФthy wit forgotten,вБ†вАФthy learning trampled on. To wind up the last scene of thy tragedy, Cruelty and Cowardice, twin ruffians, hired and set on by Malice in the dark, shall strike together at all thy infirmities and mistakes:вБ†вЄЇвБ†The best of us, my dear lad, lie open there,вБ†вЄЇвБ†and trust me,вБ†вЄЇвБ†trust me, Yorick, when to gratify a private appetite, it is once resolved upon, that an innocent and an helpless creature shall be sacrificed, вАЩtis an easy matter to pick up sticks enough from any thicket where it has strayed, to make a fire to offer it up with.
Yorick scarce ever heard this sad vaticination of his destiny read over to him, but with a fear stealing from his eye, and a promissory look attending it, that he was resolved, for the time to come, to ride his tit with more sobriety.вБ†вАФBut, alas, too late!вБ†вАФa grand confederacy, with ***** and ***** at the head of it, was formed before the first prediction of it.вБ†вАФThe whole plan of the attack, just as Eugenius had foreboded, was put in execution all at once,вБ†вАФwith so little mercy on the side of the allies,вБ†вАФand so little suspicion in Yorick, of what was carrying on against him,вБ†вАФthat when he thought, good easy man! full surely preferment was oвАЩ ripening,вБ†вАФthey had smote his root, and then he fell, as many a worthy man had fallen before him.
Yorick, however, fought it out with all imaginable gallantry for some time; till, overpowered by numbers, and worn out at length by the calamities of the war,вБ†вАФbut more so, by the ungenerous manner in which it was carried on,вБ†вАФhe threw down the sword; and though he kept up his spirits in appearance to the last, he died, nevertheless, as was generally thought, quite brokenhearted.
What inclined Eugenius to the same opinion was as follows:
A few hours before Yorick breathed his last, Eugenius stepped in with an intent to take his last sight and last farewell of him. Upon his drawing YorickвАЩs curtain, and asking how he felt himself, Yorick looking up in his face took hold of his hand,вБ†вАФand after thanking him for the many tokens of his friendship to him, for which, he said, if it was their fate to meet hereafter,вБ†вАФhe would thank him again and again,вБ†вАФhe told him, he was within a few hours of giving his enemies the slip forever.вБ†вАФI hope not, answered Eugenius, with tears trickling down his cheeks, and with the tenderest tone that ever man spoke.вБ†вАФI hope not, Yorick, said he.вБ†вЄЇвБ†Yorick replied, with a look up, and a gentle squeeze of EugeniusвАЩs hand, and that was all,вБ†вАФbut it cut Eugenius to his heart,вБ†вАФComeвБ†вАФcome, Yorick, quoth Eugenius, wiping his eyes, and summoning up the man within him,вБ†вАФmy dear lad, be comforted,вБ†вАФlet not all thy spirits and fortitude forsake thee at this crisis when thou most wants them;вБ†вЄЇвБ†who knows what resources are in store, and what the power of God may yet do for thee?вБ†вЄЇвБ†Yorick laid his hand upon his heart, and gently shook his head;вБ†вАФFor my part, continued Eugenius, crying bitterly as he uttered the words,вБ†вАФI declare I know not, Yorick, how to part with thee, and would gladly flatter my hopes, added Eugenius, cheering up his voice, that there is still enough left of thee to make a bishop, and that I may live to see it.вБ†вЄЇвБ†I beseech thee, Eugenius, quoth Yorick, taking off his nightcap as well as he could with his left hand,вБ†вЄЇвБ†his right being still grasped close in that of Eugenius,вБ†вЄЇвБ†I beseech thee to take a view of my head.вБ†вАФI see nothing that ails it, replied Eugenius. Then, alas! my friend, said Yorick, let me tell you, that вАЩtis so bruised and mis-shapened with the blows which ***** and *****, and some others have so unhandsomely given me, in the dark, that I might say with Sancho Pan√Іa, that should I recover, and вАЬMitres thereupon be suffered to rain down from heaven as thick as hail, not one of them would fit it.вАЭвБ†вЄЇвБ†YorickвАЩs last breath was hanging upon his trembling lips ready to depart as he uttered this:вБ†вЄЇвБ†yet still it was uttered with something of a Cervantick tone;вБ†вЄЇвБ†and as he spoke it, Eugenius could perceive a stream of lambent fire lighted up for a moment in his eyes;вБ†вЄЇвБ†faint picture of those flashes of his spirit, which (as¬†Shakespeare said of his ancestor) were wont to set the table in a roar!
Eugenius was convinced from this, that the heart of his friend was broke: he squeezed his hand,вБ†вЄЇвБ†and then walked softly out of the room, weeping as he walked. Yorick followed Eugenius with his eyes to the door,вБ†вАФhe then closed them,вБ†вАФand never opened them more.
He lies buried in the corner of his churchyard, in the parish of вЄї, under a plain marble slab, which his friend Eugenius, by leave of his executors, laid upon his grave, with no more than these three words of inscription, serving both for his epitaph and elegy.
Alas, poor Yorick!
Ten times a day has YorickвАЩs ghost the consolation to hear his monumental inscription read over with such a variety of plaintive tones, as denote a general pity and esteem for him;вБ†вЄЇвБ†a foot-way crossing the churchyard close by the side of his grave,вБ†вАФnot a passenger goes by without stopping to cast a look upon it,вБ†вАФand sighing as he walks on,
Alas, poor Yorick!