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as I recollect at this
moment, nearly--
Pray, Mr. Winkle, do not evade the question. Are you, or are
you not, a particular friend of the defendants?
I was just about to say, that--
Will you, or will you not, answer my question, Sir?
If you dont answer the question, youll be committed, Sir,
interposed the little judge, looking over his note-book.
Come, Sir, said Mr. Skimpin, yes or no, if you please.
Yes, I am, replied Mr. Winkle.
Yes, you are. And why couldnt you say that at once, Sir?
Perhaps you know the plaintiff too? Eh, Mr. Winkle?
I dont know her; Ive seen her.
Oh, you dont know her, but youve seen her? Now, have the
goodness to tell the gentlemen of the jury what you mean by that,
Mr. Winkle.
I mean that I am not intimate with her, but I have seen her
when I went to call on Mr. Pickwick, in Goswell Street.
How often have you seen her, Sir?
How often?
Yes, Mr. Winkle, how often? Ill repeat the question for you
a dozen times, if you require it, Sir. And the learned gentleman,
with a firm and steady frown, placed his hands on his hips, and
smiled suspiciously to the jury.
On this question there arose the edifying brow-beating,
customary on such points. First of all, Mr. Winkle said it was
quite impossible for him to say how many times he had seen
Mrs. Bardell. Then he was asked if he had seen her twenty times,
to which he replied, Certainly--more than that. Then he was
asked whether he hadnt seen her a hundred times--whether he
couldnt swear that he had seen her more than fifty times--
whether he didnt know that he had seen her at least seventy-five
times, and so forth; the satisfactory conclusion which was arrived
at, at last, being, that he had better take care of himself, and
mind what he was about. The witness having been by these
means reduced to the requisite ebb of nervous perplexity, the
examination was continued as follows--
Pray, Mr. Winkle, do you remember calling on the defendant
Pickwick at these apartments in the plaintiffs house in Goswell
Street, on one particular morning, in the month of July last?
Yes, I do.
Were you accompanied on that occasion by a friend of the
name of Tupman, and another by the name of Snodgrass?
Yes, I was.
Are they here?
Yes, they are, replied Mr. Winkle, looking very earnestly
towards the spot where his friends were stationed.
Pray attend to me, Mr. Winkle, and never mind your friends,
said Mr. Skimpin, with another expressive look at the jury.
They must tell their stories without any previous consultation
with you, if none has yet taken place (another look at the jury).
Now, Sir, tell the gentlemen of the jury what you saw on entering
the defendants room, on this particular morning. Come; out
with it, Sir; we must have it, sooner or later.
The defendant, Mr. Pickwick, was holding the plaintiff in his
arms, with his hands clasping her waist, replied Mr. Winkle with
natural hesitation, and the plaintiff appeared to have fainted away.
Did you hear the defendant say anything?
I heard him call Mrs. Bardell a good creature, and I heard him
ask her to compose herself, for what a situation it was, if anybody
should come, or words to that effect.
Now, Mr. Winkle, I have only one more question to ask you,
and I beg you to bear in mind his Lordships caution. Will you
undertake to swear that Pickwick, the defendant, did not say on
the occasion in question--"My dear Mrs. Bardell, youre a good
creature; compose yourself to this situation, for to this situation
you must come," or words to that effect?
I--I didnt understand him so, certainly, said Mr. Winkle,
astounded on this ingenious dove-tailing of the few words he had
heard. I was on the staircase, and couldnt hear distinctly; the
impression on my mind is--
The gentlemen of the jury want none of the impressions on
your mind, Mr. Winkle, which I fear would be of little service to
honest, straightforward men, interposed Mr. Skimpin. You
were on the staircase, and didnt distinctly hear; but you will not
swear that Pickwick did not make use of the expressions I have
quoted? Do I understand that?
No, I will not, replied Mr. Winkle; and down sat Mr.
Skimpin with a triumphant countenance.
Mr. Pickwicks case had not gone off in so particularly happy
a manner, up to this point, that it The Pickwick Papers page 233 The Pickwick Papers page 235 |