Cheney used to call
drinking punch pouring liquid fire down your throat.
Now, Mrs. Honour had unluckily poured so much of this liquid fire
down her throat, that the smoke of it began to ascend into her
pericranium, and blinded the eyes of Reason, which is there supposed
to keep her residence, while the fire itself from the stomach easily
reached the heart, and there inflamed the noble passion of pride. So
that, upon the whole, we shall cease to wonder at the violent rage
of the waiting-woman; though at first sight we must confess the
cause seems inadequate to the effect.
Sophia, and her cousin both, did all in their power to extinguish
these flames, which had roared so loudly all over the house. They at
length prevailed; or, to carry the metaphor one step farther, the
fire, having consumed all the fuel which the language affords, to wit,
every reproachful term in it, at last went out of its own accord.
But, though tranquillity was restored abovestairs, it was not so
below; where my landlady, highly resenting the injury done to the
beauty of her husband by the flesh-spades of Mrs. Honour, called aloud
for revenge and justice. As to the poor man, who had principally
suffered in the engagement, he was perfectly quiet. Perhaps the
blood which he lost might have cooled his anger: for the enemy had not
only applied her nails to his cheeks, but likewise her fist to his
nostrils, which lamented the blow with tears of blood in great
abundance.
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