History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

by Henry Fielding

  Chapter ii.

  In which the landlady pays a visit to Mr Jones.

  When Jones had taken leave of his friend the lieutenant, heendeavoured to close his eyes, but all in vain; his spirits were toolively and wakeful to be lulled to sleep. So having amused, or rathertormented, himself with the thoughts of his Sophia till it was opendaylight, he called for some tea; upon which occasion my landladyherself vouchsafed to pay him a visit.

  This was indeed the first time she had seen him, or at least had takenany notice of him; but as the lieutenant had assured her that he wascertainly some young gentleman of fashion, she now determined to showhim all the respect in her power; for, to speak truly, this was one ofthose houses where gentlemen, to use the language of advertisements,meet with civil treatment for their money.

  She had no sooner begun to make his tea, than she likewise began todiscourse:--"La! sir," said she, "I think it is great pity that such apretty young gentleman should under-value himself so, as to go aboutwith these soldier fellows. They call themselves gentlemen, I warrantyou; but, as my first husband used to say, they should remember it iswe that pay them. And to be sure it is very hard upon us to be obligedto pay them, and to keep 'um too, as we publicans are. I had twenty of'um last night, besides officers: nay, for matter o' that, I hadrather have the soldiers than officers: for nothing is ever goodenough for those sparks; and I am sure, if you was to see the bills;la! sir, it is nothing. I have had less trouble, I warrant you, with agood squire's family, where we take forty or fifty shillings of anight, besides horses. And yet I warrants me, there is narrow a one ofthose officer fellows but looks upon himself to be as good as arrow asquire of L500 a year. To be sure it doth me good to hear their menrun about after 'um, crying your honour, and your honour. Marry comeup with such honour, and an ordinary at a shilling a head. Thenthere's such swearing among 'um, to be sure it frightens me out o' mywits: I thinks nothing can ever prosper with such wicked people. Andhere one of 'um has used you in so barbarous a manner. I thoughtindeed how well the rest would secure him; they all hang together; forif you had been in danger of death, which I am glad to see you arenot, it would have been all as one to such wicked people. They wouldhave let the murderer go. Laud have mercy upon 'um; I would not havesuch a sin to answer for, for the whole world. But though you arelikely, with the blessing, to recover, there is laa for him yet; andif you will employ lawyer Small, I darest be sworn he'll make thefellow fly the country for him; though perhaps he'll have fled thecountry before; for it is here to-day and gone to-morrow with suchchaps. I hope, however, you will learn more wit for the future, andreturn back to your friends; I warrant they are all miserable for yourloss; and if they was but to know what had happened--La, my seeming! Iwould not for the world they should. Come, come, we know very wellwhat all the matter is; but if one won't, another will; so pretty agentleman need never want a lady. I am sure, if I was you, I would seethe finest she that ever wore a head hanged, before I would go for asoldier for her.--Nay, don't blush so" (for indeed he did to a violentdegree). "Why, you thought, sir, I knew nothing of the matter, Iwarrant you, about Madam Sophia."--"How," says Jones, starting up, "doyou know my Sophia?"--"Do I! ay marry," cries the landlady; "many'sthe time hath she lain in this house."--"With her aunt, I suppose,"says Jones. "Why, there it is now," cries the landlady. "Ay, ay, ay, Iknow the old lady very well. And a sweet young creature is MadamSophia, that's the truth on't."--"A sweet creature," cries Jones; "Oheavens!"

  Angels are painted fair to look like her. There's in her all that we believe of heav'n, Amazing brightness, purity, and truth, Eternal joy and everlasting love.

  "And could I ever have imagined that you had known my Sophia!"--"Iwish," says the landlady, "you knew half so much of her. What wouldyou have given to have sat by her bed-side? What a delicious neck shehath! Her lovely limbs have stretched themselves in that very bed younow lie in."--"Here!" cries Jones: "hath Sophia ever laid here?"--"Ay,ay, here; there, in that very bed," says the landlady; "where I wishyou had her this moment; and she may wish so too for anything I knowto the contrary, for she hath mentioned your name to me."--"Ha!" crieshe; "did she ever mention her poor Jones? You flatter me now: I cannever believe so much."--"Why, then," answered she, "as I hope to besaved, and may the devil fetch me if I speak a syllable more than thetruth, I have heard her mention Mr Jones; but in a civil and modestway, I confess; yet I could perceive she thought a great deal morethan she said."--"O my dear woman!" cries Jones, "her thoughts of me Ishall never be worthy of. Oh, she is all gentleness, kindness,goodness! Why was such a rascal as I born, ever to give her soft bosoma moment's uneasiness? Why am I cursed? I, who would undergo all theplagues and miseries which any daemon ever invented for mankind, toprocure her any good; nay, torture itself could not be misery to me,did I but know that she was happy."--"Why, look you there now," saysthe landlady; "I told her you was a constant lovier."--"But pray,madam, tell me when or where you knew anything of me; for I never washere before, nor do I remember ever to have seen you."--"Nor is itpossible you should," answered she; "for you was a little thing when Ihad you in my lap at the squire's."--"How, the squire's?" says Jones:"what, do you know that great and good Mr Allworthy then?"--"Yes,marry, do I," says she: "who in the country doth not?"--"The fame ofhis goodness indeed," answered Jones, "must have extended farther thanthis; but heaven only can know him--can know that benevolence which itcopied from itself, and sent upon earth as its own pattern. Mankindare as ignorant of such divine goodness, as they are unworthy of it;but none so unworthy of it as myself. I, who was raised by him to sucha height; taken in, as you must well know, a poor base-born child,adopted by him, and treated as his own son, to dare by my follies todisoblige him, to draw his vengeance upon me. Yes, I deserve it all;for I will never be so ungrateful as ever to think he hath done an actof injustice by me. No, I deserve to be turned out of doors, as I am.And now, madam," says he, "I believe you will not blame me for turningsoldier, especially with such a fortune as this in my pocket." Atwhich words he shook a purse, which had but very little in it, andwhich still appeared to the landlady to have less.

  My good landlady was (according to vulgar phrase) struck all of a heapby this relation. She answered coldly, "That to be sure people werethe best judges what was most proper for their circumstances. Buthark," says she, "I think I hear somebody call. Coming! coming! thedevil's in all our volk; nobody hath any ears. I must go down-stairs;if you want any more breakfast the maid will come up. Coming!" Atwhich words, without taking any leave, she flung out of the room; forthe lower sort of people are very tenacious of respect; and thoughthey are contented to give this gratis to persons of quality, yet theynever confer it on those of their own order without taking care to bewell paid for their pains.