History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

by Henry Fielding

  Chapter xii.

  Containing much clearer matters; but which flowed from the samefountain with those in the preceding chapter.

  The reader will be pleased, I believe, to return with me to Sophia.She passed the night, after we saw her last, in no very agreeablemanner. Sleep befriended her but little, and dreams less. In themorning, when Mrs Honour, her maid, attended her at the usual hour,she was found already up and drest.

  Persons who live two or three miles' distance in the country areconsidered as next-door neighbours, and transactions at the one housefly with incredible celerity to the other. Mrs Honour, therefore, hadheard the whole story of Molly's shame; which she, being of a verycommunicative temper, had no sooner entered the apartment of hermistress, than she began to relate in the following manner:--

  "La, ma'am, what doth your la'ship think? the girl that your la'shipsaw at church on Sunday, whom you thought so handsome; though youwould not have thought her so handsome neither, if you had seen hernearer, but to be sure she hath been carried before the justice forbeing big with child. She seemed to me to look like a confident slut:and to be sure she hath laid the child to young Mr Jones. And all theparish says Mr Allworthy is so angry with young Mr Jones, that hewon't see him. To be sure, one can't help pitying the poor young man,and yet he doth not deserve much pity neither, for demeaning himselfwith such kind of trumpery. Yet he is so pretty a gentleman, I shouldbe sorry to have him turned out of doors. I dares to swear the wenchwas as willing as he; for she was always a forward kind of body. Andwhen wenches are so coming, young men are not so much to be blamedneither; for to be sure they do no more than what is natural. Indeedit is beneath them to meddle with such dirty draggle-tails; andwhatever happens to them, it is good enough for them. And yet, to besure, the vile baggages are most in fault. I wishes, with all myheart, they were well to be whipped at the cart's tail; for it is pitythey should be the ruin of a pretty young gentleman; and nobody candeny but that Mr Jones is one of the most handsomest young men thatever----"

  She was running on thus, when Sophia, with a more peevish voice thanshe had ever spoken to her in before, cried, "Prithee, why dost thoutrouble me with all this stuff? What concern have I in what Mr Jonesdoth? I suppose you are all alike. And you seem to me to be angry itwas not your own case."

  "I, ma'am!" answered Mrs Honour, "I am sorry your ladyship should havesuch an opinion of me. I am sure nobody can say any such thing of me.All the young fellows in the world may go to the divil for me. BecauseI said he was a handsome man? Everybody says it as well as I. To besure, I never thought as it was any harm to say a young man washandsome; but to be sure I shall never think him so any more now; forhandsome is that handsome does. A beggar wench!--"

  "Stop thy torrent of impertinence," cries Sophia, "and see whether myfather wants me at breakfast."

  Mrs Honour then flung out of the room, muttering much to herself, ofwhich "Marry come up, I assure you," was all that could be plainlydistinguished.

  Whether Mrs Honour really deserved that suspicion, of which hermistress gave her a hint, is a matter which we cannot indulge ourreader's curiosity by resolving. We will, however, make him amends indisclosing what passed in the mind of Sophia.

  The reader will be pleased to recollect, that a secret affection forMr Jones had insensibly stolen into the bosom of this young lady. Thatit had there grown to a pretty great height before she herself haddiscovered it. When she first began to perceive its symptoms, thesensations were so sweet and pleasing, that she had not resolutionsufficient to check or repel them; and thus she went on cherishing apassion of which she never once considered the consequences.

  This incident relating to Molly first opened her eyes. She now firstperceived the weakness of which she had been guilty; and though itcaused the utmost perturbation in her mind, yet it had the effect ofother nauseous physic, and for the time expelled her distemper. Itsoperation indeed was most wonderfully quick; and in the shortinterval, while her maid was absent, so entirely removed all symptoms,that when Mrs Honour returned with a summons from her father, she wasbecome perfectly easy, and had brought herself to a thoroughindifference for Mr Jones.

  The diseases of the mind do in almost every particular imitate thoseof the body. For which reason, we hope, that learned faculty, for whomwe have so profound a respect, will pardon us the violent hands wehave been necessitated to lay on several words and phrases, which ofright belong to them, and without which our descriptions must havebeen often unintelligible.

  Now there is no one circumstance in which the distempers of the mindbear a more exact analogy to those which are called bodily, than thataptness which both have to a relapse. This is plain in the violentdiseases of ambition and avarice. I have known ambition, when cured atcourt by frequent disappointments (which are the only physic for it),to break out again in a contest for foreman of the grand jury at anassizes; and have heard of a man who had so far conquered avarice, asto give away many a sixpence, that comforted himself, at last, on hisdeathbed, by making a crafty and advantageous bargain concerning hisensuing funeral, with an undertaker who had married his only child.

  In the affair of love, which, out of strict conformity with the Stoicphilosophy, we shall here treat as a disease, this proneness torelapse is no less conspicuous. Thus it happened to poor Sophia; uponwhom, the very next time she saw young Jones, all the former symptomsreturned, and from that time cold and hot fits alternately seized herheart.

  The situation of this young lady was now very different from what ithad ever been before. That passion which had formerly been soexquisitely delicious, became now a scorpion in her bosom. Sheresisted it therefore with her utmost force, and summoned everyargument her reason (which was surprisingly strong for her age) couldsuggest, to subdue and expel it. In this she so far succeeded, thatshe began to hope from time and absence a perfect cure. She resolvedtherefore to avoid Tom Jones as much as possible; for which purposeshe began to conceive a design of visiting her aunt, to which she madeno doubt of obtaining her father's consent.

  But Fortune, who had other designs in her head, put an immediate stopto any such proceeding, by introducing an accident, which will berelated in the next chapter.