This last Argument had a stronger Effect on Honour than all the preceding. And since she saw her Mistress so determined, she desisted from any further Dissuasions. They then entered into a Debate on Ways and Means of executing their Project. Here a very stubborn Difficulty occurred, and this was the Removal of their Effects, which was much more easily got over by the Mistress than by the Maid: For when a Lady hath once taken a Resolution to run to a Lover, or to run from him, all Obstacles are considered as Trifles. But Honour was inspired by no such Motive; she had no Raptures to expect, nor any Terrors to shun; and besides the real Value of her Clothes, in which consisted great Part of her Fortune, she had a capricious Fondness for several Gowns, and other Things; either because they became her, or because they were given her by such a particular Person; because she had bought them lately, or because she had had them long; or for some other Reasons equally good; so that she could not endure the Thoughts of leaving the poor Things behind her exposed to the Mercy of Western, who, she doubted not, would in his Rage make them suffer Martyrdom.
The ingenious Mrs. Honour having applied all her Oratory to dissuade her Mistress from her Purpose, when she found her positively determined, at last started the following Expedient to remove her Clothes, viz. to get herself turned out of Doors that very Evening. Sophia highly approved this Method, but doubted how it might be brought about. ‘Oh! Ma’am,’ cries Honour, ‘your La’ship may trust that to me; we Servants very well know how to obtain this Favour of our Masters and Mistresses; tho’ some times indeed, where they owe us more Wages than they can readily pay, they will put up with all our Affronts, and will hardly take any Warning we can give them; but the Squire is none of those; and since your La’ship is resolved upon setting out To-night, I warrant I get discharged this Afternoon.’ It was then resolved that she should pack up some Linen, and a Night-gown for Sophia, with her own Things; and as for all her other Clothes, the young Lady abandoned them with no more Remorse than the Sailor feels when he throws over the Goods of others, in order to save his own Life.
CHAPTER VIII.
Containing Scenes of Altercation, of no very uncommon Kind.
Mrs. Honour had scarce sooner parted from her young Lady, than something (for I would not, like the old Woman in Quivedo, injure the Devil by any false Accusation,1 and possibly he might have no Hand in it) but something, I say, suggested itself to her, that by sacrificing Sophia and all her Secrets to Mr. Western, she might probably make her Fortune. Many Considerations urged this Discovery. The fair Prospect of a handsome Reward for so great and acceptable a Service to the Squire, tempted her Avarice; and again, the Danger of the Enterprize she had undertaken; the Uncertainty of its Success; Night, Cold, Robbers, Ravishers, all alarmed her Fears. So forcibly did all these operate upon her, that she was almost determined to go directly to the Squire, and to lay open the whole Affair. She was, however, too upright a Judge to decree on one Side, before she had heard the other. And here, first, a Journey to London appeared very strongly in Support of Sophia. She eagerly longed to see a Place in which she fancied Charms short only of those which a raptured Saint imagines in Heaven. In the next Place, as she knew Sophia to have much more Generosity than her Master; so her Fidelity promised her a greater Reward than she could gain by Treachery. She then cross examined all the Articles which had raised her Fears on the other Side, and found, on fairly sifting the Matter, that there was very little in them. And now both Scales being reduced to a pretty even Balance, her Love to her Mistress being thrown into the Scale of her Integrity, made that rather preponderate, when a Circumstance struck upon her Imagination, which might have had a dangerous Effect, had its whole Weight been fairly put into the other Scale. This was the Length of Time which must intervene, before Sophia would be able to fulfil her Promises; for tho’ she was intitled to her Mother’s Fortune, at the Death of her Father, and to the Sum of 3000l. left her by an Uncle when she came of Age; yet these were distant Days, and many Accidents might prevent the intended Generosity of the young Lady; whereas the Rewards she might expect from Mr. Western, were immediate. But while she was pursuing this Thought, the good Genius of Sophia, or that which presided over the Integrity of Mrs. Honour, or perhaps mere Chance, sent an Accident in her Way, which at once preserved her Fidelity, and even facilitated the intended Business.
Mrs. Western’s Maid claimed great Superiority over Mrs. Honour, on several Accounts. First, her Birth was higher: For her great Grandmother by the Mother’s Side was a Cousin, not far removed, to an Irish Peer. Secondly, her Wages were greater. And lastly, she had been at London, and had of Consequence seen more of the World. She had always behaved, therefore, to Mrs. Honour with that Reserve, and had always exacted of her those Marks of Distinction, which every Order of Females preserves and requires in Conversation with those of an inferior Order. Now as Honour did not at all Times agree with this Doctrine, but would frequently break in upon the Respect which the other demanded, Mrs. Western’s Maid was not at all pleased with her Company: Indeed, she earnestly longed to return home to the House of her Mistress, where she domineered at Will over all the other Servants. She had been greatly, therefore, disappointed in the Morning when Mrs. Western had changed her Mind on the very Point of Departure, and had been in what is vulgarly called, a glouting Humour2 ever since.
In this Humour, which was none of the sweetest, she came into the Room where Honour was debating with herself, in the Manner we have above related. Honour no sooner saw her, than she addressed her in the following obliging Phrase. ‘Soh! Madam, I find we are to have the Pleasure of your Company longer, which I was afraid the Quarrel between my Master and your Lady would have robbed us of.’ ‘I don’t know, Madam,’ answered the other, ‘who you mean by We and Us. I assure you I do not look on any of the Servants in this House to be proper Company for me. I am Company, I hope, for their Betters every Day in the Week. I do not speak on your Account Mrs. Honour; for you are a civilized young Woman; and when you have seen a little more of the World, I should not be ashamed to walk with you in St. James’s Park.’ ‘Hoity! toity!’ cries Honour, ‘Madam is in her Airs, I protest. Mrs. Honour, forsooth! sure, Madam, you might call me by my Sir-name; for tho’ my Lady calls me Honour, I have a Sir-name as well as other Folks. Ashamed to walk with me, quotha! Marry, as good as yourself, I hope.’ ‘Since you make such a Return to my Civility,’ said the other, ‘I must acquaint you, Mrs. Honour, that you are not so good as me. In the Country indeed one is obliged to take up with all kind of Trumpery; but in Town I visit none but the Women of Women of Quality. Indeed, Mrs. Honour, there is some Difference, I hope, between you and me.’ ‘I hope so too,’ answered Honour, ‘there is some Difference in our Ages, and—I think in our Persons.’ Upon speaking which last Words, she strutted by Mrs. Western’s Maid with the most provoking Air of Contempt; turning up her Nose, tossing her Head, and violently brushing the Hoop of her Competitor with her own. The other Lady put on one of her most malicious Sneers, and said, ‘Creature! you are below my Anger; and it is beneath me to give ill Words to such an audacious saucy Trollop; but, Hussy, I must tell you, your Breeding shews the Meanness of your Birth as well as of your Education; and both very properly qualify you to be the mean serving Woman of a Country Girl.’ ‘Don’t abuse my Lady,’ cries Honour, ‘I won’t take that of you; she’s as much better than yours as she is younger, and ten thousand Times more handsomer.’
Here ill Luck, or rather good Luck, sent Mrs. Western to see her Maid in Tears, which began to flow plentifully at her Approach; and of which being asked the Reason by her Mistress, she presently acquainted her, that her Tears were occasioned by the rude Treatment of that Creature there, meaning Honour. ‘And, Madam,’ continued she, ‘I could have despised all she said to me; but she hath had the Audacity to affront your Ladyship, and to call you ugly—Yes, Madam, she called you ugly old Cat, to my Face. I could not bear to hear your Ladyship called ugly.’—‘Why do you repeat her Impudence so often?’ said Mrs. Western. And then turning to M
rs. Honour, she asked her, ‘how she had the Assurance to mention her Name with Disrespect?’ ‘Disrespect, Madam!’ answered Honour, ‘I never mentioned your Name at all; I said somebody was not as handsome as my Mistress, and to be sure you know that as well as I.’ ‘Hussy,’ replied the Lady, ‘I will make such a saucy Trollop as yourself, know that I am not a proper Subject of your Discourse. And if my Brother doth not discharge you this Moment, I will never sleep in his House again. I will find him out and have you discharged this Moment.’ ‘Discharged!’ cries Honour, ‘and suppose I am; there are more Places in the World than one. Thank Heaven, good Servants need not want Places; and if you turn away all who do not think you handsome, you will want Servants very soon; let me tell you that.’
Mrs. Western spoke, or rather thundered, in Answer; but as she was hardly articulate, we cannot be very certain of the identical Words: We shall, therefore, omit inserting a Speech, which, at best, would not greatly redound to her Honour. She then departed in Search of her Brother, with a Countenance so full of Rage, that she resembled one of the Furies rather than a human Creature.
The two Chambermaids being again left alone, began a second Bout at Altercation, which soon produced a Combat of a more active Kind. In this the Victory belonged to the Lady of inferior Rank, but not without some Loss of Blood, of Hair, and of Lawn and Muslin.
CHAPTER IX.
The wise Demeanour of Mr. Western in the Character of a Magistrate. A Hint to Justices of Peace, concerning the necessary Qualifications of a Clerk; with extraordinary Instances of paternal Madness, and filial Affection.
Logicians sometimes prove too much by an Argument, and Politicians often over-reach themselves in a Scheme. Thus had it like to have happened to Mrs. Honour, who instead of recovering the rest of her Clothes, had like to have stopped even those she had on her Back from escaping: For the Squire no sooner heard of her having abused his Sister, than he swore twenty Oaths he would send her to Bridewell.
Mrs. Western was a very good-natured Woman, and ordinarily of a forgiving Temper. She had lately remitted the Trespass of a Stage-coachman, who had overturned her Post-chaise into a Ditch; nay, she had even broken the Law in refusing to prosecute a Highwayman who had robbed her,1 not only of a Sum of Money, but of her Ear-rings; at the same Time d—ning her, and saying, ‘such handsome B—s as you, don’t want Jewels to set them off, and be d—ned to you.’ But now, so uncertain are our Tempers, and so much do we at different Times differ from ourselves, she would hear of no Mitigation; nor could all the affected Penitence of Honour, nor all the Entreaties of Sophia for her own Servant, prevail with her to desist from earnestly desiring her Brother to execute Justiceship (for it was indeed a Syllable more than Justice) on the Wench.
But luckily the Clerk had a Qualification, which no Clerk to a Justice of Peace ought ever to be without, namely, some Understanding in the Law of this Realm. He therefore whispered in the Ear of the Justice, that he would exceed his Authority by committing the Girl to Bridewell, as there had been no Attempt to break the Peace; ‘for I am afraid, Sir,’ says he, ‘you cannot legally commit any one to Bridewell only for Ill-breeding.’
In Matters of high Importance, particularly in Cases relating to the Game, the Justice was not always attentive to these Admonitions of his Clerk: For, indeed, in executing the Laws under that Head, many Justices of Peace suppose they have a large discretionary Power. By Virtue of which, under the Notion of searching for, and taking away Engines for the Destruction of the Game, they often commit Trespasses, and sometimes Felony at their Pleasure.
But this Offence was not of quite so high a Nature, nor so dangerous to the Society. Here, therefore, the Justice behaved with some Attention to the Advice of his Clerk: For, in Fact, he had already had two Informations exhibited against him in the King’s-Bench, and had no Curiosity to try a third.2
The Squire, therefore, putting on a most wise and significant Countenance, after a Preface of several Hum’s and Ha’s, told his Sister, that upon more mature Deliberation, he was of Opinion that ‘as there was no breaking up of the Peace, such as the Law,’ says he, ‘calls breaking open a Door, or breaking a Hedge, or breaking a Head; or any such Sort of Breaking; the Matter did not amount to a felonious Kind of a Thing, nor Trespasses nor Damages, and, therefore, there was no Punishment in the Law for it.’
Mrs. Western said, ‘she knew the Law much better; that she had known Servants very severely punished for affronting their Masters;’ and then named a certain Justice of the Peace in London, ‘who,’ she said, ‘would commit a Servant to Bridewell, at any Time when a Master or Mistress desired it.’
‘Like enough,’ cries the Squire, ‘it may be so in London; but the Law is different in the Country.’ Here followed a very learned Dispute between the Brother and Sister concerning the Law, which we would insert, if we imagined many of our Readers could understand it. This was, however, at length referred by both Parties to the Clerk, who decided it in Favour of the Magistrate; and Mrs. Western was, in the End, obliged to content herself with the Satisfaction of having Honour turned away; to which Sophia herself very readily and chearfully consented.
Thus Fortune, after having diverted herself, according to Custom, with two or three Frolicks, at last disposed all Matters to the Advantage of our Heroine; who, indeed succeeded admirably well in her Deceit, considering it was the first she had ever practised. And, to say the Truth, I have often concluded, that the honest Part of Mankind would be much too hard for the knavish, if they could bring themselves to incur the Guilt, or thought it worth their while to take the Trouble.
Honour acted her Part to the utmost Perfection. She no sooner saw herself secure from all Danger of Bridewell, a Word which had raised most horrible Ideas in her Mind, than she resumed those Airs which her Terrors before had a little abated; and laid down her Place, with as much Affectation of Content, and indeed of Contempt, as was ever practised at the Resignation of Places of much greater Importance. If the Reader pleases, therefore, we chuse rather to say she resigned—which hath, indeed, been always held a synonymous Expression with being turned out, or turned away.
Mr. Western ordered her to be very expeditious in packing: For his Sister declared she would not sleep another Night under the same Roof with so impudent a Slut. To work therefore she went, and that so earnestly, that every Thing was ready early in the Evening; when having received her Wages, away packed she Bag and Baggage, to the great Satisfaction of every one, but of none more than of Sophia; who, having appointed her Maid to meet her at a certain Place not far from the House, exactly at the dreadful and ghostly Hour of Twelve, began to prepare for her own Departure.
But first she was obliged to give two painful Audiences, the one to her Aunt, and the other to her Father. In these Mrs. Western herself began to talk to her in a more peremptory Stile than before; but her Father treated her in so violent and outrageous a Manner, that he frightened her into an affected Compliance with his Will, which so highly pleased the good Squire, that he changed his Frowns into Smiles, and his Menaces into Promises; he vowed his whole Soul was wrapped in hers, that her Consent (for so he construed the Words, You know, Sir, I must not, nor can refuse to obey any absolute Command of yours,) had made him the happiest of Mankind. He then gave her a large Bank-bill to dispose of in any Trinkets she pleased, and kissed and embraced her in the fondest Manner, while Tears of Joy trickled from those Eyes, which a few Moments before had darted Fire and Rage against the dear Object of all his Affection.
Instances of this Behaviour in Parents are so common, that the Reader, I doubt not, will be very little astonish’d at the whole Conduct of Mr. Western. If he should, I own I am not able to account for it; since that he loved his Daughter most tenderly, is, I think, beyond Dispute. So indeed have many others, who have rendered their Children most compleatly miserable by the same Conduct; which, tho’ it is almost universal in Parents, hath always appeared to me to be the most unaccountable of all the Absurdities, which ever entered into the Brain of t
hat strange prodigious Creature Man.3
The latter Part of Mr. Western’s Behaviour had so strong an Effect on the tender Heart of Sophia, that it suggested a Thought to her, which not all the Sophistry of her politic Aunt, nor all the Menaces of her Father had ever once brought into her Head. She reverenced her Father so piously, and loved him so passionately, that she had scarce ever felt more pleasing Sensations, than what arose from the Share she frequently had of contributing to his Amusement; and sometimes, perhaps, to higher Gratifications; for he never could contain the Delight of hearing her commended, which he had the Satisfaction of hearing almost every Day of her Life. The Idea, therefore, of the immense Happiness she should convey to her Father by her Consent to this Match, made a strong Impression on her Mind. Again, the extreme Piety of such an Act of Obedience worked very forcibly, as she had a very deep Sense of Religion. Lastly, when she reflected how much she herself was to suffer, being indeed to become little less than a Sacrifice, or a Martyr, to filial Love and Duty, she felt an agreeable Tickling in a certain little Passion, which tho’ it bears no immediate Affinity either to Religion or Virtue, is often so kind as to lend great Assistance in executing the Purposes of both.
Sophia was charmed with the Contemplation of so heroic an Action, and began to compliment herself with much premature Flattery, when Cupid, who lay hid in her Muff, suddenly crept out, and, like Punchinello in a Puppet-shew, kicked all out before him. In Truth (for we scorn to deceive our Reader, or to vindicate the Character of our Heroine, by ascribing her Actions to supernatural Impulse) the Thoughts of her beloved Jones, and some Hopes (however distant) in which he was very particularly concerned, immediately destroyed all which filial Love, Piety and Pride had, with their joint Endeavours, been labouring to bring about.
The History of Tom Jones (Penguin Classics) Page 42
