The History of Tom Jones (Penguin Classics)

by Henry Fielding

  If he will not be contented with these Reasons, I freely confess I see no other Motive to the Actions of that Lady, unless we will conceive she was bribed by Lord Fellamar, which for my own Part I see no Cause to suspect.

  Now this was the Affair which Mrs. Western was preparing to introduce to Sophia, by some prefatory Discourse on the Folly of Love, and on the Wisdom of legal Prostitution for Hire,2 when her Brother and Blifil broke abruptly in upon her; and hence arose all that Coldness in her Behaviour to Blifil, which tho’ the Squire, as was usual with him, imputed to a wrong Cause, infused into Blifil himself (he being a much more cunning Man) a Suspicion of the real Truth.

  CHAPTER IX.

  In which Jones pays a Visit to Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

  The Reader may now perhaps be pleased to return with us to Mr. Jones, who at the appointed Hour attended on Mrs. Fitzpatrick; but before we relate the Conversation which now past, it may be proper, according to our Method, to return a little back, and to account for so great an Alteration of Behaviour in this Lady, that from changing her Lodging principally to avoid Mr. Jones, she had now industriously, as hath been seen, sought this Interview.

  And here we shall need only to resort to what happened the preceding Day, when hearing from Lady Bellaston, that Mr. Western was arrived in Town, she went to pay her Duty to him, at his Lodgings at Piccadilly, where she was received with many scurvy Compellations too coarse to be repeated, and was even threatned to be kicked out of Doors. From hence an old Servant of her Aunt Western, with whom she was well acquainted, conducted her to the Lodgings of that Lady, who treated her not more kindly, but more politely; or, to say the Truth, with Rudeness in another Way. In short, she returned from both, plainly convinced not only that her Scheme of Reconciliation had proved abortive, but that she must for ever give over all Thoughts of bringing it about by any Means whatever. From this Moment Desire of Revenge only filled her Mind; and in this Temper meeting Jones at the Play, an Opportunity seemed to her to occur of effecting this Purpose.

  The Reader must remember, that he was acquainted by Mrs. Fitzpatrick, in the Account she gave of her own Story, with the Fondness Mrs. Western had formerly shewn for Mr. Fitzpatrick at Bath, from the Disappointment of which, Mrs. Fitzpatrick derived the great Bitterness her Aunt had expressed toward her. She had therefore no Doubt but that the good Lady would as easily listen to the Addresses of Mr. Jones, as she had before done to the other; for the Superiority of Charms was clearly on the Side of Mr. Jones; and the Advance which her Aunt had since made in Age, she concluded, (how justly I will not say) was an Argument rather in Favour of her Project than against it.

  Therefore, when Jones attended after a previous Declaration of her Desire of serving him, arising, as she said, from a firm Assurance how much she should by so doing oblige Sophia; and after some Excuses for her former Disappointment, and after acquainting Mr. Jones in whose Custody his Mistress was, of which she thought him ignorant; she very explicitly mentioned her Scheme to him, and advised him to make sham Addresses to the older Lady, in order to procure an easy Access to the younger, informing him at the same Time of the Success which Mr. Fitzpatrick had formerly owed to the very same Stratagem.

  Mr. Jones expressed great Gratitude to the Lady for the kind Intentions towards him which she had expressed, and indeed testified, by this Proposal; but besides intimating some Diffidence of Success from the Lady’s Knowledge of his Love to her Niece, which had not been her Case in Regard to Mr. Fitzpatrick, he said, he was afraid Miss Western would never agree to an Imposition of this Kind, as well from her utter Detestation of all Fallacy, as from her avowed Duty to her Aunt.

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick was a little nettled at this; and indeed, if it may not be called a Lapse of the Tongue, it was a small Deviation from Politeness in Jones, and into which he scarce would have fallen, had not the Delight he felt in praising Sophia, hurried him out of all Reflection; for this Commendation of one Cousin was more than a tacit Rebuke on the other.

  ‘Indeed, Sir,’ answered the Lady, with some Warmth, ‘I cannot think there is any thing easier than to cheat an old Woman with a Profession of Love, when her Complexion is amorous; and tho’ she is my Aunt, I must say there never was a more liquorish one than her Ladyship. Can’t you pretend that the Despair of possessing her Niece, from her being promised to Blifil, has made you turn your Thoughts towards her? As to my Cousin Sophia, I can’t imagine her to be such a Simpleton as to have the least Scruple on such an Account, or to conceive any harm in punishing one of these Haggs for the many Mischiefs they bring upon Families, by their tragi-comic Passions; for which I think it is pity they are not punishable by Law. I had no such Scruple myself; and yet I hope my Cousin Sophia will not think it an Affront when I say she cannot detest every real Species of Falshood more than her Cousin Fitzpatrick. To my Aunt indeed I pretend no Duty, nor doth she deserve any. However, Sir, I have given you my Advice, and if you decline pursuing it, I shall have the less Opinion of your Understanding, —that’s all.’

  Jones now clearly saw the Error he had committed, and exerted his utmost Power to rectify it; but he only faultered and stuttered into Nonsense and Contradiction. To say the Truth, it is often safer to abide by the Consequences of the first Blunder, than to endeavour to rectify it; for by such Endeavours, we generally plunge deeper instead of extricating ourselves; and few Persons will on such Occasions have the good Nature, which Mrs. Fitzpatrick displayed to Jones, by saying, with a Smile, ‘You need attempt no more Excuses; for I can easily forgive a real Lover, whatever is the Effect of Fondness for his Mistress.’

  She then renewed her Proposal, and very fervently recommended it, omitting no Argument which her Invention could suggest on the Subject; for she was so violently incensed against her Aunt, that scarce any Thing was capable of affording her equal Pleasure with exposing her; and like a true Woman, she would see no Difficulties in the Execution of a favourite Scheme.

  Jones however persisted in declining the Undertaking, which had not indeed the least Probability of Success. He easily perceived the Motives which induced Mrs. Fitzpatrick to be so eager in pressing her Advice. He said, he would not deny the tender and passionate Regard he had for Sophia; but was so conscious of the Inequality of their Situations, that he could never flatter himself so far as to hope that so divine a young Lady would condescend to think on so unworthy a Man; nay he protested, he could scarce bring himself to wish she should. He concluded with a Profession of generous Sentiments, which we have not at present Leisure to insert.

  There are some fine Women (for I dare not here speak in too general Terms) with whom Self is so predominant, that they never detach it from any Subject; and as Vanity is with them a ruling Principle, they are apt to lay hold of whatever Praise they meet with; and though the Property of others, convey it to their own Use. In the Company of these Ladies it is impossible to say any Thing handsome of another Woman, which they will not apply to themselves; nay, they often improve the Praise they seize; as for Instance, if her Beauty, her Wit, her Gentility, her good Humour deserve so much Commendation, what do I deserve who possess those Qualities in so much more eminent a Degree?

  To these Ladies a Man often recommends himself while he is commending another Woman; and while he is expressing Ardour and generous Sentiments for his Mistress, they are considering what a charming Lover this Man would make to them, who can feel all this Tenderness for an inferior Degree of Merit. Of this, strange as it may seem, I have seen many Instances besides Mrs. Fitzpatrick, to whom all this really happened, and who now began to feel a Somewhat for Mr. Jones, the Symptoms of which she much sooner understood than poor Sophia had formerly done.

  To say the Truth, perfect Beauty in both Sexes is a more irresistible Object than it is generally thought; for notwithstanding some of us are contented with more homely Lots, and learn by Rote (as Children are to repeat what gives them no Idea) to despise Outside, and to value more solid Charms; yet I have always observed at the Approach of consummate Beauty, that these m
ore solid Charms only shine with that Kind of Lustre which the Stars have after the Rising of the Sun.

  When Jones had finished his Exclamations, many of which would have become the Mouth of Oroondates1 himself, Mrs. Fitzpatrick heaved a deep Sigh, and taking her Eyes off from Jones, on whom they had been some Time fixed, and dropping them on the Ground, she cried, ‘Indeed, Mr. Jones, I pity you; but it is the Curse of such Tenderness to be thrown away on those who are insensible of it. I know my Cousin better than you, Mr. Jones, and I must say, any Woman who makes no Return to such a Passion, and such a Person, is unworthy of both.’

  ‘Sure, Madam,’ said Jones, ‘you can’t mean’ — ‘Mean?’ cries Mrs. Fitzpatrick, ‘I know not what I mean; there is something, I think, in true Tenderness bewitching; few Women ever meet with it in Men, and fewer still know how to value it when they do. I never heard such truly noble Sentiments, and I can’t tell how it is, but you force one to believe you. Sure she must be the most contemptible of Women who can overlook such Merit.’

  The Manner and Look with which all this was spoke, infused a Suspicion into Jones, which we don’t care to convey in direct Words to the Reader. Instead of making any Answer, he said, ‘I am afraid, Madam, I have made too tiresome a Visit,’ and offered to take his Leave.

  ‘Not at all, Sir,’ answered Mrs. Fitzpatrick, ‘— Indeed I pity you, Mr. Jones; indeed I do: But if you are going, consider of the Scheme I have mentioned. I am convinced you will approve it, and let me see you again as soon as you can. — To-morrow Morning if you will, or at least some Time To-morrow. I shall be at Home all Day.’

  Jones then, after many Expressions of Thanks very respectfully retired; nor could Mrs. Fitzpatrick forbear making him a Present of a Look at Parting, by which if he had understood Nothing, he must have had no Understanding in the Language of the Eyes. In reality it confirmed his Resolution of returning to her no more; for faulty as he hath hitherto appeared in this History, his whole Thoughts were now so confined to his Sophia, that I believe no Woman upon Earth could have now drawn him into an Act of Inconstancy.

  Fortune however, who was not his Friend, resolved, as he intended to give her no second Opportunity, to make the best of this; and accordingly produced the tragical Incident which we are now in sorrowful Notes to record.

  CHAPTER X.

  The Consequence of the preceding Visit.

  Mr. Fitzpatrick having received the Letter before-mentioned, from Mrs. Western, and being by that Means acquainted with the Place to which his Wife was retired, returned directly to Bath, and thence the Day after set forward to London.

  The Reader hath been already often informed of the jealous Temper of this Gentleman. He may likewise be pleased to remember the Suspicion which he had conceived of Jones at Upton, upon his finding him in the Room with Mrs. Waters; and though sufficient Reasons had afterwards appeared entirely to clear up that Suspicion, yet now the reading so handsome a Character of Mr. Jones from his Wife, caused him to reflect, that she likewise was in the Inn at the same Time, and jumbled together such a Confusion of Circumstances in a Head which was naturally none of the clearest, that the whole produced that green-eyed Monster mentioned by Shakespear in his Tragedy of Othello.1

  And now as he was enquiring in the Street after his Wife, and had just received Directions to the Door, unfortunately Mr. Jones was issuing from it.

  Fitzpatrick did not yet recollect the Face of Jones; however, seeing a young well-dressed Fellow coming from his Wife, he made directly up to him, and asked him what he had been doing in that House: ‘For I am sure,’ said he, ‘you must have been in it, as I saw you come out of it.’

  Jones answered very modestly, ‘That he had been visiting a Lady there.’ To which Fitzpatrick replied, ‘what Business have you with the Lady?’ Upon which Jones, who now perfectly remembred the Voice, Features, and indeed Coat, of the Gentleman, cried out,——‘Ha, my good Friend! give me your Hand; I hope there is no ill Blood remaining between us, upon a small Mistake which happened so long ago.’

  ‘Upon my Soul, Sir,’ said Fitzpatrick, ‘I don’t know your Name, nor your Face.’ ‘Indeed, Sir,’ said Jones, ‘Neither have I the Pleasure of knowing your Name, but your Face I very well remember to have seen before, at Upton, where a foolish Quarrel happened between us, which, if it is not made up yet, we will now make up over a Bottle.’

  ‘At Upton!’ cried the other.—‘Ha! upon my Soul, I believe your Name is Jones.’ ‘Indeed,’ answered he, ‘It is.’ — ‘O, upon my Soul,’ cries Fitzpatrick, ‘you are the very Man I wanted to meet. — Upon my Soul I will drink a Bottle with you presently; but first I will give you a great Knock over the Pate. There is for you, you Rascal. Upon my Soul, if you do not give me Satisfaction for that Blow, I will give you another.’ And then drawing his Sword put himself in a Posture of Defence, which was the only Science he understood.

  Jones was a little staggered by the Blow which came somewhat unexpectedly; but presently recovering himself he also drew, and though he understood nothing of Fencing, prest on so boldly upon Fitzpatrick, that he beat down his Guard, and sheathed one half of his Sword in the Body of the said Gentleman, who had no sooner received it, than he stept backwards, dropt the Point of his Sword, and leaning upon it, cried, ‘I have Satisfaction enough: I am a dead Man.’

  ‘I hope not,’ cries Jones, ‘but whatever be the Consequence, you must be sensible you have drawn it upon yourself.’ At this Instant a Number of Fellows rushed in and seized Jones, who told them, he should make no Resistance, and begged some of them at least would take care of the wounded Gentleman.

  ‘Ay,’ cries one of the Fellows, ‘the wounded Gentleman will be taken Care enough of; for I suppose he hath not many Hours to live. As for you, Sir, you have a Month at least good yet.’ ‘D — n me, Jack,’ said another, ‘he hath prevented his Voyage; he’s bound to another Port now;’ and many other such Jests was our poor Jones made the Subject of, by these Fellows, who were indeed the Gang employed by Lord Fellamar, and had dogged him into the House of Mrs. Fitzpatrick, waiting for him at the Corner of the Street when this unfortunate Accident happened.

  The Officer who commanded this Gang very wisely concluded, that his Business was now to deliver his Prisoner into the Hands of the Civil Magistrate. He ordered him therefore to be carried to a public House, where having sent for a Constable, he delivered him to his Custody.

  The Constable seeing Mr. Jones very well drest, and hearing that the Accident had happened in a Duel, treated his Prisoner with great Civility, and, at his Request, dispatched a Messenger to enquire after the wounded Gentleman, who was now at a Tavern under the Surgeon’s Hands. The Report brought back was, that the Wound was certainly mortal, and there were no Hopes of Life. Upon which the Constable informed Jones, that he must go before a Justice. He answered, ‘Wherever you please: I am indifferent as to what happens to me; for though I am convinced I am not guilty of Murder in the Eye of the Law, yet the Weight of Blood I find intolerable upon my Mind.’

  Jones was now conducted before the Justice, where the Surgeon who dressed Mr. Fitzpatrick appeared, and deposed, that he believed the Wound to be mortal; upon which the Prisoner was committed to the Gate-house.2 It was very late at Night, so that Jones would not send for Partridge till the next Morning; and as he never shut his Eyes till seven, so it was near twelve before the poor Fellow, who was greatly frightned at not hearing from his Master so long, received a Message which almost deprived him of his Being, when he heard it.

  He went to the Gate-house with trembling Knees and a beating Heart, and was no sooner arrived in the Presence of Jones, than he lamented the Misfortune that had befallen him, with many Tears, looking all the while frequently about him in great Terror; for as the News now arrived that Mr. Fitzpatrick was dead, the poor Fellow apprehended every Minute that his Ghost would enter the Room. At last he delivered him a Letter, which he had like to have forgot, and which came from Sophia by the Hands of black George.

  Jones presently dispatch
ed every one out of the Room, and having eagerly broke open the Letter, read as follows.

  You owe the hearing from me again to an Accident which I own surprizes me. My Aunt hath just now shewn me a Letter from you to Lady Bellaston, which contains a Proposal of Marriage. I am convinced it is your own Hand; and what more surprizes me, is, that it is dated at the very Time when you would have me imagine you was under such Concern on my Account.—I leave you to comment on this Fact. All I desire is, that your Name may never more be mentioned to

  S.W.

  Of the present Situation of Mr. Jones’s Mind, and of the Pangs with which he was now tormented, we cannot give the Reader a better Idea, than by saying, his Misery was such, that even Thwackum would almost have pitied him. But bad as it is, we shall at present leave him in it, as his good Genius (if he really had any) seems to have done. And here we put an End to the sixteenth Book of our History.

  BOOK XVII.