Chapter xiv.
The arrival of a surgeon.--His operations, and a long dialogue betweenSophia and her maid.
When they arrived at Mr Western's hall, Sophia, who had tottered alongwith much difficulty, sunk down in her chair; but by the assistance ofhartshorn and water, she was prevented from fainting away, and hadpretty well recovered her spirits, when the surgeon who was sent forto Jones appeared. Mr Western, who imputed these symptoms in hisdaughter to her fall, advised her to be presently blooded by way ofprevention. In this opinion he was seconded by the surgeon, who gaveso many reasons for bleeding, and quoted so many cases where personshad miscarried for want of it, that the squire became veryimportunate, and indeed insisted peremptorily that his daughter shouldbe blooded.
Sophia soon yielded to the commands of her father, though entirelycontrary to her own inclinations, for she suspected, I believe, lessdanger from the fright, than either the squire or the surgeon. Shethen stretched out her beautiful arm, and the operator began toprepare for his work.
While the servants were busied in providing materials, the surgeon,who imputed the backwardness which had appeared in Sophia to herfears, began to comfort her with assurances that there was not theleast danger; for no accident, he said, could ever happen in bleeding,but from the monstrous ignorance of pretenders to surgery, which hepretty plainly insinuated was not at present to be apprehended. Sophiadeclared she was not under the least apprehension; adding, "If youopen an artery, I promise you I'll forgive you." "Will you?" criesWestern: "D--n me, if I will. If he does thee the least mischief, d--nme if I don't ha' the heart's blood o'un out." The surgeon assented tobleed her upon these conditions, and then proceeded to his operation,which he performed with as much dexterity as he had promised; and withas much quickness: for he took but little blood from her, saying, itwas much safer to bleed again and again, than to take away too much atonce.
Sophia, when her arm was bound up, retired: for she was not willing(nor was it, perhaps, strictly decent) to be present at the operationon Jones. Indeed, one objection which she had to bleeding (though shedid not make it) was the delay which it would occasion to setting thebroken bone. For Western, when Sophia was concerned, had noconsideration but for her; and as for Jones himself, he "sat likepatience on a monument smiling at grief." To say the truth, when hesaw the blood springing from the lovely arm of Sophia, he scarcethought of what had happened to himself.
The surgeon now ordered his patient to be stript to his shirt, andthen entirely baring the arm, he began to stretch and examine it, insuch a manner that the tortures he put him to caused Jones to makeseveral wry faces; which the surgeon observing, greatly wondered at,crying, "What is the matter, sir? I am sure it is impossible I shouldhurt you." And then holding forth the broken arm, he began a long andvery learned lecture of anatomy, in which simple and double fractureswere most accurately considered; and the several ways in which Jonesmight have broken his arm were discussed, with proper annotationsshowing how many of these would have been better, and how many worsethan the present case.
Having at length finished his laboured harangue, with which theaudience, though it had greatly raised their attention and admiration,were not much edified, as they really understood not a single syllableof all he had said, he proceeded to business, which he was moreexpeditious in finishing, than he had been in beginning.
Jones was then ordered into a bed, which Mr Western compelled him toaccept at his own house, and sentence of water-gruel was passed uponhim.
Among the good company which had attended in the hall during thebone-setting, Mrs Honour was one; who being summoned to her mistressas soon as it was over, and asked by her how the young gentleman did,presently launched into extravagant praises on the magnanimity, as shecalled it, of his behaviour, which, she said, "was so charming in sopretty a creature." She then burst forth into much warmer encomiums onthe beauty of his person; enumerating many particulars, and endingwith the whiteness of his skin.
This discourse had an effect on Sophia's countenance, which would notperhaps have escaped the observance of the sagacious waiting-woman,had she once looked her mistress in the face, all the time she wasspeaking: but as a looking-glass, which was most commodiously placedopposite to her, gave her an opportunity of surveying those features,in which, of all others, she took most delight; so she had not onceremoved her eyes from that amiable object during her whole speech.
Mrs Honour was so intirely wrapped up in the subject on which sheexercised her tongue, and the object before her eyes, that she gaveher mistress time to conquer her confusion; which having done, shesmiled on her maid, and told her, "she was certainly in love with thisyoung fellow."--"I in love, madam!" answers she: "upon my word, ma'am,I assure you, ma'am, upon my soul, ma'am, I am not."--"Why, if youwas," cries her mistress, "I see no reason that you should be ashamedof it; for he is certainly a pretty fellow."--"Yes, ma'am," answeredthe other, "that he is, the most handsomest man I ever saw in my life.Yes, to be sure, that he is, and, as your ladyship says, I don't knowwhy I should be ashamed of loving him, though he is my betters. To besure, gentlefolks are but flesh and blood no more than us servants.Besides, as for Mr Jones, thof Squire Allworthy hath made a gentlemanof him, he was not so good as myself by birth: for thof I am a poorbody, I am an honest person's child, and my father and mother weremarried, which is more than some people can say, as high as they holdtheir heads. Marry, come up! I assure you, my dirty cousin! thof hisskin be so white, and to be sure it is the most whitest that ever wasseen, I am a Christian as well as he, and nobody can say that I ambase born: my grandfather was a clergyman,[*] and would have been veryangry, I believe, to have thought any of his family should have takenup with Molly Seagrim's dirty leavings."
[*] This is the second person of low condition whom we have recorded in this history to have sprung from the clergy. It is to be hoped such instances will, in future ages, when some provision is made for the families of the inferior clergy, appear stranger than they can be thought at present.
Perhaps Sophia might have suffered her maid to run on in this manner,from wanting sufficient spirits to stop her tongue, which the readermay probably conjecture was no very easy task; for certainly therewere some passages in her speech which were far from being agreeableto the lady. However, she now checked the torrent, as there seemed noend of its flowing. "I wonder," says she, "at your assurance in daringto talk thus of one of my father's friends. As to the wench, I orderyou never to mention her name to me. And with regard to the younggentleman's birth, those who can say nothing more to his disadvantage,may as well be silent on that head, as I desire you will be for thefuture."
"I am sorry I have offended your ladyship," answered Mrs Honour. "I amsure I hate Molly Seagrim as much as your ladyship can; and as forabusing Squire Jones, I can call all the servants in the house towitness, that whenever any talk hath been about bastards, I havealways taken his part; for which of you, says I to the footmen, wouldnot be a bastard, if he could, to be made a gentleman of? And, says I,I am sure he is a very fine gentleman; and he hath one of the whitesthands in the world; for to be sure so he hath: and, says I, one of thesweetest temperedest, best naturedest men in the world he is; and,says I, all the servants and neighbours all round the country loveshim. And, to be sure, I could tell your ladyship something, but that Iam afraid it would offend you."--"What could you tell me, Honour?"says Sophia. "Nay, ma'am, to be sure he meant nothing by it, thereforeI would not have your ladyship be offended."--"Prithee tell me," saysSophia; "I will know it this instant."--"Why, ma'am," answered MrsHonour, "he came into the room one day last week when I was at work,and there lay your ladyship's muff on a chair, and to be sure he puthis hands into it; that very muff your ladyship gave me but yesterday.La! says I, Mr Jones, you will stretch my lady's muff, and spoil it:but he still kept his hands in it: and then he kissed it--to be sure Ihardly ever saw such a kiss in my life as he gave it."--"I suppose hedid not know it was mine," replied Sophia. "Your ladyship shall hear,ma'am. He kiss
ed it again and again, and said it was the prettiestmuff in the world. La! sir, says I, you have seen it a hundred times.Yes, Mrs Honour, cried he; but who can see anything beautiful in thepresence of your lady but herself?--Nay, that's not all neither; but Ihope your ladyship won't be offended, for to be sure he meant nothing.One day, as your ladyship was playing on the harpsichord to my master,Mr Jones was sitting in the next room, and methought he lookedmelancholy. La! says I, Mr Jones, what's the matter? a penny for yourthoughts, says I. Why, hussy, says he, starting up from a dream, whatcan I be thinking of, when that angel your mistress is playing? Andthen squeezing me by the hand, Oh! Mrs Honour, says he, how happy willthat man be!--and then he sighed. Upon my troth, his breath is assweet as a nosegay.--But to be sure he meant no harm by it. So I hopeyour ladyship will not mention a word; for he gave me a crown never tomention it, and made me swear upon a book, but I believe, indeed, itwas not the Bible."
Till something of a more beautiful red than vermilion be found out, Ishall say nothing of Sophia's colour on this occasion. "Ho--nour,"says she, "I--if you will not mention this any more to me--nor toanybody else, I will not betray you--I mean, I will not be angry; butI am afraid of your tongue. Why, my girl, will you give it suchliberties?"--"Nay, ma'am," answered she, "to be sure, I would soonercut out my tongue than offend your ladyship. To be sure I shall nevermention a word that your ladyship would not have me."--"Why, I wouldnot have you mention this any more," said Sophia, "for it may come tomy father's ears, and he would be angry with Mr Jones; though I reallybelieve, as you say, he meant nothing. I should be very angry myself,if I imagined--"--"Nay, ma'am," says Honour, "I protest I believe hemeant nothing. I thought he talked as if he was out of his senses;nay, he said he believed he was beside himself when he had spoken thewords. Ay, sir, says I, I believe so too. Yes, says he, Honour.--But Iask your ladyship's pardon; I could tear my tongue out for offendingyou." "Go on," says Sophia; "you may mention anything you have nottold me before."--"Yes, Honour, says he (this was some timeafterwards, when he gave me the crown), I am neither such a coxcomb,or such a villain, as to think of her in any other delight but as mygoddess; as such I will always worship and adore her while I havebreath.--This was all, ma'am, I will be sworn, to the best of myremembrance. I was in a passion with him myself, till I found he meantno harm."--"Indeed, Honour," says Sophia, "I believe you have a realaffection for me. I was provoked the other day when I gave youwarning; but if you have a desire to stay with me, you shall."--"To besure, ma'am," answered Mrs Honour, "I shall never desire to part withyour ladyship. To be sure, I almost cried my eyes out when you gave mewarning. It would be very ungrateful in me to desire to leave yourladyship; because as why, I should never get so good a place again. Iam sure I would live and die with your ladyship; for, as poor Mr Jonessaid, happy is the man----"
Here the dinner bell interrupted a conversation which had wrought suchan effect on Sophia, that she was, perhaps, more obliged to herbleeding in the morning, than she, at the time, had apprehended sheshould be. As to the present situation of her mind, I shall adhere toa rule of Horace, by not attempting to describe it, from despair ofsuccess. Most of my readers will suggest it easily to themselves; andthe few who cannot, would not understand the picture, or at leastwould deny it to be natural, if ever so well drawn.
BOOK V.
CONTAINING A PORTION OF TIME SOMEWHAT LONGER THAN HALF A YEAR.
History of Tom Jones, a Foundling Page 48
