The History of Tom Jones (Penguin Classics)

Home > Nonfiction > The History of Tom Jones (Penguin Classics) > Page 38
The History of Tom Jones (Penguin Classics) Page 38

by Henry Fielding


  When you reflect on the Situation in which I write, I am sure your Good-nature will pardon any Inconsistency or Absurdity which my Letter contains; for every thing here flows from a Heart so full, that no Language can express its Dictates.

  I have resolved, Madam, to obey your Commands, in flying for ever from your dear, your lovely Sight. Cruel indeed those Commands are; but it is a Cruelty which proceeds from Fortune, not from my Sophia. Fortune hath made it necessary, necessary to your Preservation, to forget there ever was such a Wretch as I am.

  Believe me, I would not hint all my Sufferings to you, if I imagined they could possibly escape your Ears. I know the Goodness and Tenderness of your Heart, and would avoid giving you any of those Pains which you always feel for the Miserable. O let nothing, which you shall hear of my hard Fortune, cause a Moment’s Concern; for after the Loss of you, every Thing is to me a Trifle.

  O Sophia! it is hard to leave you; it is harder still to desire you to forget me; yet the sincerest Love obliges me to both. Pardon my conceiving that any Remembrance of me can give you Disquiet; but if I am so gloriously wretched, sacrifice me every Way to your Relief. Think I never loved you; or think truly how little I deserve you; and learn to scorn me for a Presumption which can never be too severely punished.—I am unable to say more.——May Guardian Angels protect you for ever.

  He was now searching his Pockets for his Wax, but found none, nor indeed any thing else, therein; for in Truth he had, in his frantic Disposition, tossed every thing from him, and, amongst the rest, his Pocketbook, which he had received from Mr. Allworthy, which he had never opened, and which now first occurred to his Memory.

  The House supplied him with a Wafer for his present Purpose, with which having sealed his Letter, he returned hastily towards the Brook Side, in order to search for the Things which he had there lost. In his Way he met his old Friend Black George, who heartily condoled with him on his Misfortune; for this had already reached his Ears, and indeed those of all the Neighbourhood.

  Jones acquainted the Game-keeper with his Loss, and he as readily went back with him to the Brook, where they searched every Tuft of Grass in the Meadow, as well where Jones had not been, as where he had been; but all to no Purpose, for they found nothing: For indeed, though the Things were then in the Meadow, they omitted to search the only Place where they were deposited; to wit, in the Pockets of the said George; for he had just before found them, and being luckily apprized of their Value, had very carefully put them up for his own Use.

  The Game-keeper having exerted as much Diligence in Quest of the lost Goods, as if he had hoped to find them, desired Mr. Jones to recollect if he had been in no other Place; ‘For sure,’ said he, ‘if you had lost them here so lately, the Things must have been here still; for this is a very unlikely Place for any one to pass by;’ and indeed it was by great Accident that he himself had passed through that Field, in order to lay Wires for Hares, with which he was to supply a Poulterer at Bath the next Morning.

  Jones now gave over all Hopes of recovering his Loss, and almost all Thoughts concerning it, and turning to Black George, asked him earnestly, If he would do him the greatest Favour in the World?

  George answered, with some Hesitation, ‘Sir, you know you may command me whatever is in my Power, and I heartily wish it was in my Power to do you any Service.’ In fact, the Question staggered him; for he had, by selling Game, amassed a pretty good Sum of Money in Mr. Western’s Service, and was afraid that Jones wanted to borrow some small Matter of him; but he was presently relieved from his Anxiety, by being desired to convey a Letter to Sophia, which with great Pleasure he promised to do. And indeed, I believe there are few Favours which he would not have gladly conferred on Mr. Jones; for he bore as much Gratitude towards him as he could, and was as honest as Men who love Money better than any other Thing in the Universe, generally are.

  Mrs. Honour was agreed by both to be the proper Means by which this Letter should pass to Sophia. They then separated; the Game-keeper returned home to Mr. Western’s, and Jones walked to an Alehouse at half a Mile’s Distance, to wait for his Messenger’s Return.

  George no sooner came home to his Master’s House, than he met with Mrs. Honour; to whom, having first sounded her with a few previous Questions, he delivered the Letter for her Mistress, and received at the same Time another from her for Mr. Jones; which Honour told him she had carried all that Day in her Bosom, and began to despair of finding any Means of delivering it.

  The Game-keeper returned hastily and joyfully to Jones, who having received Sophia’s Letter from him instantly withdrew, and eagerly breaking it open read as follows:

  SIR,

  It is impossible to express what I have felt since I saw you. Your submitting, on my Account, to such cruel Insults from my Father, lays me under an Obligation I shall ever own. As you know his Temper, I beg you will, for my Sake, avoid him. I wish I had any Comfort to send you; but believe this, that nothing but the last Violence shall ever give my Hand or Heart where you would be sorry to see them bestowed.

  Jones read this Letter a hundred Times over, and kissed it a hundred Times as often. His Passion now brought all tender Desires back into his Mind. He repented that he had writ to Sophia in the Manner we have seen above; but he repented more that he had made use of the Interval of his Messenger’s Absence to write and dispatch a Letter to Mr. Allworthy, in which he had faithfully promised and bound himself to quit all Thoughts of his Love. However, when his cool Reflections returned, he plainly perceived that his Case was neither mended nor altered by Sophia’s Billet, unless to give him some little Glimpse of Hope from her Constancy, of some favourable Accident hereafter. He therefore resumed his Resolution, and taking leave of Black George, set forward to a Town about five Miles distant, whither he had desired Mr. Allworthy, unless he pleased to revoke his Sentence, to send his Things after him.

  CHAPTER XIII.

  The Behaviour of Sophia on the present Occasion; which none of her Sex will blame, who are capable of behaving in the same Manner. And the Discussion of a knotty Point in the Court of Conscience.

  Sophia had passed the last twenty-four Hours in no very desirable Manner. During a large Part of them she had been entertained by her Aunt, with Lectures of Prudence, recommending to her the Example of the polite World, where Love (so the good Lady said) is at present entirely laughed at, and where Women consider Matrimony, as Men do Offices of public Trust, only as the Means of making their Fortunes, and of advancing themselves in the World. In commenting on which Text Mrs. Western had displayed her Eloquence during several Hours.

  These sagacious Lectures, though little suited either to the Taste or Inclination of Sophia, were, however, less irksome to her than her own Thoughts, that formed the Entertainment of the Night, during which she never once closed her Eyes.

  But though she could neither sleep nor rest in her Bed; yet, having no Avocation from it, she was found there by her Father at his Return from Allworthy’s, which was not till past Ten o’Clock in the Morning. He went directly up to her Apartment, opened the Door, and seeing she was not up—cried—‘Oh! you are safe then, and I am resolved to keep you so.’ He then locked the Door, and delivered the Key to Honour, having first given her the strictest Charge, with great Promises of Rewards for her Fidelity, and most dreadful Menaces of Punishment, in case she should betray her Trust.

  Honour’s Orders were not to suffer her Mistress to come out of her Room without the Authority of the Squire himself, and to admit none to her but him and her Aunt; but she was herself to attend her with whatever Sophia pleased, except only Pen, Ink, and Paper, of which she was forbidden the Use.

  The Squire ordered his Daughter to dress herself and attend him at Dinner; which she obeyed; and having sat the usual Time, was again conducted to her Prison.

  In the Evening, the Goaler Honour brought her the Letter which she received from the Game-keeper. Sophia read it very attentively twice or thrice over, and then threw herself upon the Bed, and bu
rst into a Flood of Tears. Mrs. Honour expressed great Astonishment at this Behaviour in her Mistress; nor could she forbear very eagerly begging to know the Cause of this Passion. Sophia made her no Answer for some Time, and then starting suddenly up caught her Maid by the Hand, and cried, ‘O Honour! I am undone.’ ‘Marry forbid,’ cries Honour, ‘I wish the Letter had been burnt before I had brought it to your La’ship. I’m sure I thought it would have comforted your La’ship, or I would have seen it at the Devil before I would have touch’d it.’ ‘Honour,’ says Sophia, ‘you are a good Girl, and it is vain to attempt concealing longer my Weakness from you; I have thrown away my Heart on a Man who hath forsaken me.’ ‘And is Mr. Jones,’ answered the Maid, ‘such a Perfidy Man?’ ‘He hath taken his Leave of me,’ says Sophia, ‘for ever in that Letter. Nay, he hath desired me to forget him. Could he have desired that, if he had loved me? Could he have borne such a Thought? Could he have written such a Word?’ ‘No certainly, Ma’am,’ cries Honour, ‘and to be sure, if the best Man in England was to desire me to forget him, I’d take him at his Word. Marry come up! I am sure your La’ship hath done him too much Honour ever to think on him. A young Lady who may take her Choice of all the young Men in the Country.—And to be sure, if I may be so presumptuous as to offer my poor Opinion, there is young Mr. Blifil, who besides that he is come of honest Parents, and will be one of the greatest Squires all hereabouts, he is to be sure, in my poor Opinion, a more handsomer, and a more politer Man by half; and besides, he is a young Gentleman of a sober Character, and who may defy any of the Neighbours to say black is his Eye:1 He follows no dirty Trollops, nor can any Bastards be laid at his Door. Forget him indeed! I thank Heaven I myself am not so much at my last Prayers, as to suffer any Man to bid me forget him twice. If the best He that wears a Head was for to go for to offer to say such an affronting Word to me, I would never give him my Company afterwards, if there was another young Man in the Kingdom. And as I was a saying, to be sure, there is young Mr. Blifil’— ‘Name not his detested Name,’ cries Sophia. ‘Nay, Ma’am,’ says Honour, ‘If your La’ship doth not like him, there be more jolly handsome young Men that would court your La’ship, if they had but the least Encouragement. I don’t believe there is arrow young Gentleman2 in this County, or in the next to it, that if your La’ship was but to look as if you had a Mind to him, would not come about to make his Offers directly.’ ‘What a Wretch dost thou imagine me,’ cries Sophia, ‘by affronting my Ears with such Stuff! I detest all Mankind.’ ‘Nay, to be sure, Ma’am,’ answered Honour, ‘your La’ship hath had enough to give you a Surfeit of them. To be used ill by such a poor beggarly bastardly Fellow.’ ‘Hold your blasphemous Tongue,’ cries Sophia, ‘how dare you mention his Name with Disrespect before me? He use me ill? No, his poor bleeding Heart suffered more when he writ the cruel Words, than mine from reading them. O! he is all heroic Virtue, and angelic Goodness. I am ashamed of the Weakness of my own Passion, for blaming what I ought to admire.—O Honour! it is my Good only which he consults. To my Interest he sacrifices both himself and me———The Apprehension of ruining me hath driven him to Despair.’ ‘I am very glad,’ says Honour, ‘to hear your La’ship takes that into your Consideration: for to be sure, it must be nothing less than Ruin, to give your Mind to one that is turned out of Doors, and is not worth a Farthing in the World.’ ‘Turned out of Doors!’ cries Sophia hastily, ‘how! what dost thou mean?’ ‘Why, to be sure, Ma’am, my Master no sooner told Squire Allworthy about Mr. Jones having offered to make Love to your Ladyship, than the Squire stripped him stark naked, and turned him out of Doors.’ ‘Ha!’ says Sophia, ‘I have been the cursed, wretched Cause of his Destruction?—Turn’d naked out of Doors! Here, Honour, take all the Money I have; take the Rings from my Fingers.— Here my Watch, carry him all.—Go, find him immediately.’ ‘For Heaven’s Sake, Ma’am,’ answered Mrs. Honour, ‘do but consider, if my Master should miss any of these Things, I should be made to answer for them. Therefore let me beg your Ladyship not to part with your Watch and Jewels. Besides the Money, I think, is enough of all Conscience; and as for that, my Master can never know any thing of the Matter.’ ‘Here then,’ cries Sophia, ‘take every Farthing I am worth, find him out immediately and give it him. Go, go, lose not a Moment.’

  Mrs. Honour departed according to Orders, and finding Black George below Stairs, delivered him the Purse which contained Sixteen Guineas, being indeed the whole Stock of Sophia: For tho’ her Father was very liberal to her, she was much too generous herself to be rich.

  Black George having received the Purse, set forward towards the Alehouse; but in the Way a Thought occurred to him, whether he should not detain this Money likewise. His Conscience, however, immediately started at this Suggestion, and began to upbraid him with Ingratitude to his Benefactor. To this his Avarice answered, ‘That his Conscience should have considered the Matter before, when he deprived poor Jones of his 500l. That having quietly acquiesced in what was of so much greater Importance, it was absurd, if not downright Hypocrisy, to affect any Qualms at this Trifle.’ In return to which, Conscience, like a good Lawyer, attempted to distinguish between an absolute Breach of Trust, as here where the Goods were delivered, and a bare Concealment of what was found, as in the former Case. Avarice presently treated this with Ridicule, called it a Distinction without a Difference, and absolutely insisted, that when once all Pretensions of Honour and Virtue were given up in any one Instance, that there was no Precedent for resorting to them upon a second Occasion. In short, poor Conscience had certainly been defeated in the Argument, had not Fear stept in to her Assistance, and very strenuously urged, that the real Distinction between the two Actions, did not lie in the different Degrees of Honour, but of Safety: For that the secreting the 500l. was a Matter of very little Hazard; whereas the detaining the Sixteen Guineas was liable to the utmost Danger of Discovery.

  By this friendly Aid of Fear, Conscience obtained a compleat Victory in the Mind of Black George, and, after making him a few Compliments on his Honesty, forced him to deliver the Money to Jones.

  CHAPTER XIV.

  A short Chapter, containing a short Dialogue between Squire Western and his Sister.

  Mrs. Western had been engaged abroad all that Day. The Squire met her at her Return home; and when she enquired after Sophia, he acquainted her that he had secured her safe enough. ‘She is locked up in Chamber,’ cries he, ‘and Honour keeps the Key.’ As his Looks were full of prodigious Wisdom and Sagacity when he gave his Sister this Information, it is probable he expected much Applause from her for what he had done; but how was he disappointed! when with a most disdainful Aspect, she cried, ‘Sure, Brother, you are the weakest of all Men. Why will you not confide in me for the Management of my Niece? Why will you interpose? You have now undone all that I have been spending my Breath in order to bring about. While I have been endeavouring to fill her Mind with Maxims of Prudence, you have been provoking her to reject them. English Women, Brother, I thank Heaven, are no Slaves. We are not to be locked up like the Spanish and Italian Wives. We have as good a Right to Liberty as yourselves.1 We are to be convinced by Reason and Persuasion only, and not governed by Force. I have seen the World, Brother, and know what Arguments to make Use of; and if your Folly had not prevented me, should have prevailed with her to form her Conduct by those Rules of Prudence and Discretion which I formerly taught her.’ ‘To be sure,’ said the Squire, ‘I am always in the Wrong.’ ‘Brother,’ answered the Lady, ‘you are not in the Wrong, unless when you meddle with Matters beyond your Knowledge. You must agree, that I have seen most of the World? and happy had it been for my Niece, if she had not been taken from under my Care. It is by living at home with you that she hath learnt romantic Notions of Love and Nonsense.’ ‘You don’t imagine, I hope,’ cries the Squire, ‘that I have taught her any such Things.’ ‘Your Ignorance, Brother,’ returned she, ‘as the great Milton says, almost subdues my Patience.’* ‘D——n Milton,’ answered the Squire, ‘if he had the Impudence
to say so to my Face, I’d lend him a Douse, thof he was never so great a Man. Patience! an you come to that, Sister, I have more Occasion of Patience, to be used like an overgrown School-boy; as I am by you. Do you think no one hath any Understanding, unless he hath been about at Court? Pox! the World is come to a fine Pass indeed, if we are all Fools, except a Parcel of Roundheads and Hannover Rats. Pox! I hope the Times are a coming that we shall make Fools of them, and every Man shall enjoy his own. That’s all, Sister, and every Man shall enjoy his own. I hope to zee it, Sister, before the Hannover Rats have eat up all our Corn, and left us nothing but Turneps to feed upon.’3 ‘I protest, Brother,’ cries she, ‘you are now got beyond my Understanding. Your Jargon of Turneps and Hannover Rats, is to me perfectly unintelligible.’ ‘I believe,’ cries he, ‘you don’t care to hear o’em; but the Country Interest may succeed one Day or other for all that.’ ‘I wish,’ answered the Lady, ‘you would think a little of your Daughter’s Interest: For believe me, she is in greater Danger than the Nation.’ ‘Just now,’ said he, ‘you chid me for thinking on her, and would ha’ her left to you.’ ‘And if you will promise to interpose no more,’ answered she, ‘I will out of my Regard to my Niece, undertake the Charge.’ ‘Well, do then,’ said the Squire, ‘for you know I always agreed, that Women are the properest to manage Women.’

  Mrs. Western then departed, muttering something with an Air of Disdain, concerning Women and Management of the Nation. She immediately repaired to Sophia’s Apartment, who was now, after a Day’s Confinement, released again from her Captivity.

 

‹ Prev