History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

by Henry Fielding

  Chapter v.

  Containing some matters which may affect, and others which maysurprize, the reader.

  The clock had now struck seven, and poor Sophia, alone and melancholy,sat reading a tragedy. It was the Fatal Marriage; and she was now cometo that part where the poor distrest Isabella disposes of herwedding-ring.

  Here the book dropt from her hand, and a shower of tears ran down intoher bosom. In this situation she had continued a minute, when the dooropened, and in came Lord Fellamar. Sophia started from her chair athis entrance; and his lordship advancing forwards, and making a lowbow, said, "I am afraid, Miss Western, I break in upon you abruptly.""Indeed, my lord," says she, "I must own myself a little surprized atthis unexpected visit." "If this visit be unexpected, madam," answeredLord Fellamar, "my eyes must have been very faithless interpreters ofmy heart, when last I had the honour of seeing you; for surely youcould not otherwise have hoped to detain my heart in your possession,without receiving a visit from its owner." Sophia, confused as shewas, answered this bombast (and very properly I think) with a look ofinconceivable disdain. My lord then made another and a longer speechof the same sort. Upon which Sophia, trembling, said, "Am I really toconceive your lordship to be out of your senses? Sure, my lord, thereis no other excuse for such behaviour." "I am, indeed, madam, in thesituation you suppose," cries his lordship; "and sure you will pardonthe effects of a frenzy which you yourself have occasioned; for lovehath so totally deprived me of reason, that I am scarce accountablefor any of my actions." "Upon my word, my lord," said Sophia, "Ineither understand your words nor your behaviour." "Suffer me then,madam," cries he, "at your feet to explain both, by laying open mysoul to you, and declaring that I doat on you to the highest degree ofdistraction. O most adorable, most divine creature! what language canexpress the sentiments of my heart?" "I do assure you, my lord," saidSophia, "I shall not stay to hear any more of this." "Do not," crieshe, "think of leaving me thus cruelly; could you know half thetorments which I feel, that tender bosom must pity what those eyeshave caused." Then fetching a deep sigh, and laying hold of her hand,he ran on for some minutes in a strain which would be little morepleasing to the reader than it was to the lady; and at last concludedwith a declaration, "That if he was master of the world, he would layit at her feet." Sophia then, forcibly pulling away her hand from his,answered with much spirit, "I promise you, sir, your world and itsmaster I should spurn from me with equal contempt." She then offeredto go; and Lord Fellamar, again laying hold of her hand, said, "Pardonme, my beloved angel, freedoms which nothing but despair could havetempted me to take.----Believe me, could I have had any hope that mytitle and fortune, neither of them inconsiderable, unless whencompared with your worth, would have been accepted, I had, in thehumblest manner, presented them to your acceptance.----But I cannotlose you.--By heaven, I will sooner part with my soul!--You are, youmust, you shall be only mine." "My lord," says she, "I intreat you todesist from a vain pursuit; for, upon my honour, I will never hear youon this subject. Let go my hand, my lord; for I am resolved to go fromyou this moment; nor will I ever see you more." "Then, madam," crieshis lordship, "I must make the best use of this moment; for I cannotlive, nor will I live without you."----"What do you mean, my lord?"said Sophia; "I will raise the family." "I have no fear, madam,"answered he, "but of losing you, and that I am resolved to prevent,the only way which despair points to me."--He then caught her in hisarms: upon which she screamed so loud, that she must have alarmed someone to her assistance, had not Lady Bellaston taken care to remove allears.

  But a more lucky circumstance happened for poor Sophia; another noisenow broke forth, which almost drowned her cries; for now the wholehouse rang with, "Where is she? D--n me, I'll unkennel her thisinstant. Show me her chamber, I say. Where is my daughter? I knowshe's in the house, and I'll see her if she's above-ground. Show mewhere she is."--At which last words the door flew open, and in cameSquire Western, with his parson and a set of myrmidons at his heels.

  How miserable must have been the condition of poor Sophia, when theenraged voice of her father was welcome to her ears! Welcome indeed itwas, and luckily did he come; for it was the only accident upon earthwhich could have preserved the peace of her mind from being for everdestroyed.

  Sophia, notwithstanding her fright, presently knew her father's voice;and his lordship, notwithstanding his passion, knew the voice ofreason, which peremptorily assured him, it was not now a time for theperpetration of his villany. Hearing, therefore, the voice approach,and hearing likewise whose it was (for as the squire more than onceroared forth the word daughter, so Sophia, in the midst of herstruggling, cried out upon her father), he thought proper torelinquish his prey, having only disordered her handkerchief, and withhis rude lips committed violence on her lovely neck.

  If the reader's imagination doth not assist me, I shall never be ableto describe the situation of these two persons when Western came intothe room. Sophia tottered into a chair, where she sat disordered,pale, breathless, bursting with indignation at Lord Fellamar;affrighted, and yet more rejoiced, at the arrival of her father.

  His lordship sat down near her, with the bag of his wig hanging overone of his shoulders, the rest of his dress being somewhat disordered,and rather a greater proportion of linen than is usual appearing athis bosom. As to the rest, he was amazed, affrighted, vexed, andashamed.

  As to Squire Western, he happened at this time to be overtaken by anenemy, which very frequently pursues, and seldom fails to overtake,most of the country gentlemen in this kingdom. He was, literallyspeaking, drunk; which circumstance, together with his naturalimpetuosity, could produce no other effect than his runningimmediately up to his daughter, upon whom he fell foul with his tonguein the most inveterate manner; nay, he had probably committed violencewith his hands, had not the parson interposed, saying, "For heaven'ssake, sir, animadvert that you are in the house of a great lady. Letme beg you to mitigate your wrath; it should minister a fulness ofsatisfaction that you have found your daughter; for as to revenge, itbelongeth not unto us. I discern great contrition in the countenanceof the young lady. I stand assured, if you will forgive her, she willrepent her of all past offences, and return unto her duty."

  The strength of the parson's arms had at first been of more servicethan the strength of his rhetoric. However, his last words wroughtsome effect, and the squire answered, "I'll forgee her if she wull haun. If wot ha un, Sophy, I'll forgee thee all. Why dost unt speak?Shat ha un! d--n me, shat ha un! Why dost unt answer? Was ever such astubborn tuoad?"

  "Let me intreat you, sir, to be a little more moderate," said theparson; "you frighten the young lady so, that you deprive her of allpower of utterance."

  "Power of mine a--," answered the squire. "You take her part then,you do? A pretty parson, truly, to side with an undutiful child! Yes,yes, I will gee you a living with a pox. I'll gee un to the devilsooner."

  "I humbly crave your pardon," said the parson; "I assure your worshipI meant no such matter."

  My Lady Bellaston now entered the room, and came up to the squire, whono sooner saw her, than, resolving to follow the instructions of hissister, he made her a very civil bow, in the rural manner, and paidher some of his best compliments. He then immediately proceeded to hiscomplaints, and said, "There, my lady cousin; there stands the mostundutiful child in the world; she hankers after a beggarly rascal, andwon't marry one of the greatest matches in all England, that we haveprovided for her."

  "Indeed, cousin Western," answered the lady, "I am persuaded you wrongmy cousin. I am sure she hath a better understanding. I am convincedshe will not refuse what she must be sensible is so much to heradvantage."

  This was a wilful mistake in Lady Bellaston, for she well knew whom MrWestern meant; though perhaps she thought he would easily bereconciled to his lordship's proposals.

  "Do you hear there," quoth the squire, "what her ladyship says? Allyour family are for the match. Come, Sophy, be a good girl, and bedutiful, and make your father happy."

&n
bsp; "If my death will make you happy, sir," answered Sophia, "you willshortly be so."

  "It's a lye, Sophy; it's a d--n'd lye, and you know it," said thesquire.

  "Indeed, Miss Western," said Lady Bellaston, "you injure your father;he hath nothing in view but your interest in this match; and I and allyour friends must acknowledge the highest honour done to your familyin the proposal."

  "Ay, all of us," quoth the squire; "nay, it was no proposal of mine.She knows it was her aunt proposed it to me first.--Come, Sophy, oncemore let me beg you to be a good girl, and gee me your consent beforeyour cousin."

  "Let me give him your hand, cousin," said the lady. "It is the fashionnow-a-days to dispense with time and long courtships."

  "Pugh!" said the squire, "what signifies time; won't they have timeenough to court afterwards? People may court very well after they havebeen a-bed together."

  As Lord Fellamar was very well assured that he was meant by LadyBellaston, so, never having heard nor suspected a word of Blifil, hemade no doubt of his being meant by the father. Coming up, therefore,to the squire, he said, "Though I have not the honour, sir, of beingpersonally known to you, yet, as I find I have the happiness to havemy proposals accepted, let me intercede, sir, in behalf of the younglady, that she may not be more solicited at this time."

  "You intercede, sir!" said the squire; "why, who the devil are you?"

  "Sir, I am Lord Fellamar," answered he, "and am the happy man whom Ihope you have done the honour of accepting for a son-in-law."

  "You are a son of a b----," replied the squire, "for all your lacedcoat. You my son-in-law, and be d--n'd to you!"

  "I shall take more from you, sir, than from any man," answered thelord; "but I must inform you that I am not used to hear such languagewithout resentment."

  "Resent my a--," quoth the squire. "Don't think I am afraid of such afellow as thee art! because hast got a spit there dangling at thyside. Lay by your spit, and I'll give thee enough of meddling withwhat doth not belong to thee. I'll teach you to father-in-law me. I'lllick thy jacket."

  "It's very well, sir," said my lord, "I shall make no disturbancebefore the ladies. I am very well satisfied. Your humble servant, sir;Lady Bellaston, your most obedient."

  His lordship was no sooner gone, than Lady Bellaston, coming up to MrWestern, said, "Bless me, sir, what have you done? You know not whomyou have affronted; he is a nobleman of the first rank and fortune,and yesterday made proposals to your daughter; and such as I am sureyou must accept with the highest pleasure."

  "Answer for yourself, lady cousin," said the squire, "I will havenothing to do with any of your lords. My daughter shall have an honestcountry gentleman; I have pitched upon one for her--and she shall ha'un.--I am sorry for the trouble she hath given your ladyship with allmy heart." Lady Bellaston made a civil speech upon the word trouble;to which the squire answered--"Why, that's kind--and I would do asmuch for your ladyship. To be sure relations should do for oneanother. So I wish your ladyship a good night.--Come, madam, you mustgo along with me by fair means, or I'll have you carried down to thecoach."

  Sophia said she would attend him without force; but begged to go in achair, for she said she should not be able to ride any other way.

  "Prithee," cries the squire, "wout unt persuade me canst not ride in acoach, wouldst? That's a pretty thing surely! No, no, I'll never letthee out of my sight any more till art married, that I promise thee."Sophia told him, she saw he was resolved to break her heart. "O breakthy heart and be d--n'd," quoth he, "if a good husband will break it.I don't value a brass varden, not a halfpenny, of any undutiful b--upon earth." He then took violent hold of her hand; upon which theparson once more interfered, begging him to use gentle methods. Atthat the squire thundered out a curse, and bid the parson hold histongue, saying, "At'nt in pulpit now? when art a got up there I nevermind what dost say; but I won't be priest-ridden, nor taught how tobehave myself by thee. I wish your ladyship a good-night. Come along,Sophy; be a good girl, and all shall be well. Shat ha' un, d--n me,shat ha' un!"

  Mrs Honour appeared below-stairs, and with a low curtesy to the squireoffered to attend her mistress; but he pushed her away, saying, "Hold,madam, hold, you come no more near my house." "And will you take mymaid away from me?" said Sophia. "Yes, indeed, madam, will I," criesthe squire: "you need not fear being without a servant; I will get youanother maid, and a better maid than this, who, I'd lay five pounds toa crown, is no more a maid than my grannum. No, no, Sophy, she shallcontrive no more escapes, I promise you." He then packed up hisdaughter and the parson into the hackney coach, after which he mountedhimself, and ordered it to drive to his lodgings. In the way thitherhe suffered Sophia to be quiet, and entertained himself with reading alecture to the parson on good manners, and a proper behaviour to hisbetters.

  It is possible he might not so easily have carried off his daughterfrom Lady Bellaston, had that good lady desired to have detained her;but, in reality, she was not a little pleased with the confinementinto which Sophia was going; and as her project with Lord Fellamar hadfailed of success, she was well contented that other violent methodswere now going to be used in favour of another man.