f a foot long, an
hussar waistcoat, scarlet breeches reaching half way down his thighs,
worsted stockings rolled up almost to his groin, and shoes with wooden
heels at least two inches high; he carried a sword very near as long as
himself in one hand, and with the other conducted his lady, who seemed
to be a woman of his own age, and still retained some remains of an
agreeable person, but so ridiculously affected, that, had I not been a
novice in the world, I might have easily perceived in her the deplorable
vanity and second-hand airs of a lady's woman.

We were all assembled in the kitchen, when Captain Weazel (for that was
his name) desired a room with a fire for himself and spouse, and told
the landlord they would up by themselves. The innkeeper replied that he
could not afford them a room by themselves; and as for supping, he had
prepared victuals for the passengers in the waggon, without respect of
persons, but if he could prevail on the rest to let him have his choice
in a separate manner, he should be very well pleased. This was no sooner
said than all of us declared against the proposal, and Miss Jenny (our
other female passenger), observed that, if Captain Weazel and his lady
had a mind to sup by themselves, they might wait until we should have
done. At this hint the captain put on a martial frown, and looked very
big, without speaking; while his yokefellow, with a disdainful toss
of her nose, muttered something about "Creature!" which Miss Jenny
overhearing, stepped up to her, saying, "None of your names, good Mrs.
Abigail. Creature, quotha--I'll assure you no such creature as you
neither--no ten-pound sneaker--no quality-coupler." Here the captain
interposed, with a "D--e, madam, what do you mean by that?" "D--n you
sir, who are you?" replied Miss Jenny, "who made you a captain, you
pitiful, trencher-scraping, pimping curler? 'Sdeath! the army is come to
a fine pass, when such fellows as you get commissions. What, I suppose
you think I don't know you? Egad, you and your helpmate are well met--a
cast-off mistress and a bald valet-de-chambre are well yoked together."
"Blood and wounds!" cried Weazel, "d'ye question the honour of my wife,
madam? Hell and d-ion! No man in England durst say so much--I would flay
him, carbonado him! Fury and destruction! I would have his liver for
my supper." So saying, he drew his sword and flourished with it, to the
great terror of Strap; while Miss Jenny, snapping her fingers, t