Joseph Andrews Page #4

I'll not have no vagabonds

in my attic.

Mr. Tow-Wouse,

you as a Christian

cannot deny me that.

I can't deny

you nothing, Betty.

All right,

put him in the attic.

Don't tell the missus.

Oh, no, you don't,

Mr. Tow-Wouse.

We're not taking in no beggars.

Who's to pay his reckoning?

Where's your common charity?

Common charity? A fart!

Common charity teaches us

to provide for ourselves

and our families, and I and mine

are not going to be ruined

by your charity.

Well, he could rest

in the attic.

For pity's sake.

A fart on your pity, too.

You've the finest skin

I ever saw on any boy.

Now, good sir, modesty

has no place for this sake.

I've washed men before.

I know what to expect.

Oh, sir, I do declare,

that's the prettiest compliment

I've ever been paid.

I do assure you, madam,

'tis but the heat of the room.

Ooh, I know when a sword

should be stuck in a scabbard.

Hey!

Oh, Mr. Tow-Wouse.

He attacked me.

He... he plunged at my virtue.

Your virtue?

He tore my clothes off.

Please don't tell,

Mr. Tow-Wouse.

He's fully revived.

Doesn't look like it to me.

Well, I had to...

I had to knock him down again.

Eh, never mind him.

You've revived me, Betty.

I'm standing like a crocus.

Betty?!

Oh! Oh! Oh, Mr. Tow-Wouse!

Betty...!

Oh, Mr. Tow-Wouse!

So!

Uh, I fainted.

Just came over...

strange, I did--

most perplexing.

This is the reward

from her virtue.

You abuse my bed--

my own bed--

with my own servant!

As for you, you slut!

I'll rule you!

Get out, you nasty little whore!

I'll snell the hide off you,

you... you b*tch!

If I've been a little naughty,

I'm not the first,

and I'll not be

called a she-dog

by any b*tch in England.

You...

you lecher! I'll...

I'll bloody you!

Now for you!

I'm the doctor.

Came as fast as I could.

A matter of some urgency,

I understand.

Oh, yes, yes, I see.

- Sit down, my poor fellow.

- What?

I-I am not your patient, sir.

- Not...?

- No.

Ah, is that the poor

unfortunate...?

Uh...

Mr. Tow-Wouse!

Uh, yes, my love?

Oh, my poor fellow, I can

see that you're suffering.

I am a surgeon.

No, sir, no, I've a...

fainting... purely fainting.

I'll be well, directly.

Where is the patient

I was sent for?

Aha.

Aha!

Dear me, dear me.

Been in the wars lately,

haven't we?

Well, what about our heart, eh?

Hmm?

Yes... hmm?

We are wasting our time,

aren't we?

We're dead.

There's very little hope,

I'm afraid.

He's dead.

Dead?

And no means to pay

his reckoning.

He's a turd from fortune.

The Lord giveth

and the Lord taketh away...

Dead-- as mutton...

as we surgeons say.

My fee for services

will be a mere

shilling, madam.

Services? You've done

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