Chapter xiv.
A short chapter, containing a short dialogue between Squire Westernand his sister.
Mrs Western had been engaged abroad all that day. The squire met herat her return home; and when she enquired after Sophia, he acquaintedher that he had secured her safe enough. "She is locked up inchamber," cries he, "and Honour keeps the key." As his looks were fullof prodigious wisdom and sagacity when he gave his sister thisinformation, it is probable he expected much applause from her forwhat he had done; but how was he disappointed when, with a mostdisdainful aspect, she cried, "Sure, brother, you are the weakest ofall men. Why will you not confide in me for the management of myniece? Why will you interpose? You have now undone all that I havebeen spending my breath in order to bring about. While I have beenendeavouring to fill her mind with maxims of prudence, you have beenprovoking her to reject them. English women, brother, I thank heaven,are no slaves. We are not to be locked up like the Spanish and Italianwives. We have as good a right to liberty as yourselves. We are to beconvinced by reason and persuasion only, and not governed by force. Ihave seen the world, brother, and know what arguments to make use of;and if your folly had not prevented me, should have prevailed with herto form her conduct by those rules of prudence and discretion which Iformerly taught her." "To be sure," said the squire, "I am always inthe wrong." "Brother," answered the lady, "you are not in the wrong,unless when you meddle with matters beyond your knowledge. You mustagree that I have seen most of the world; and happy had it been for myniece if she had not been taken from under my care. It is by living athome with you that she hath learnt romantic notions of love andnonsense." "You don't imagine, I hope," cries the squire, "that I havetaught her any such things." "Your ignorance, brother," returned she,"as the great Milton says, almost subdues my patience."[*] "D--nMilton!" answered the squire: "if he had the impudence to say so to myface, 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 ofpatience, to be used like an overgrown schoolboy, as I am by you. Doyou think no one hath any understanding, unless he hath been about atcourt. Pox! the world is come to a fine pass indeed, if we are allfools, except a parcel of round-heads and Hanover rats. Pox! I hopethe times are a coming when we shall make fools of them, and every manshall enjoy his own. That's all, sister; and every man shall enjoy hisown. I hope to zee it, sister, before the Hanover rats have eat up allour corn, and left us nothing but turneps to feed upon."--"I protest,brother," cries she, "you are now got beyond my understanding. Yourjargon of turneps and Hanover rats is to me perfectlyunintelligible."--"I believe," cries he, "you don't care to hear o'em;but the country interest may succeed one day or other for allthat."--"I wish," answered the lady, "you would think a little of yourdaughter's interest; for, believe me, she is in greater danger thanthe 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 interposeno more," answered she, "I will, out of my regard to my niece,undertake the charge."--"Well, do then," said the squire, "for youknow I always agreed, that women are the properest to manage women."
[*] The reader may, perhaps, subdue his own patience, if he searches for this in Milton.]
Mrs Western then departed, muttering something with an air of disdain,concerning women and management of the nation. She immediatelyrepaired to Sophia's apartment, who was now, after a day'sconfinement, released again from her captivity.
BOOK VII.
CONTAINING THREE DAYS.
History of Tom Jones, a Foundling Page 74