History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

by Henry Fielding

  Chapter ix.

  Containing love-letters of several sorts.

  Mr Jones, at his return home, found the following letters lying on histable, which he luckily opened in the order they were sent.

  LETTER I.

  "Surely I am under some strange infatuation; I cannot keep my resolutions a moment, however strongly made or justly founded. Last night I resolved never to see you more; this morning I am willing to hear if you can, as you say, clear up this affair. And yet I know that to be impossible. I have said everything to myself which you can invent.----Perhaps not. Perhaps your invention is stronger. Come to me, therefore, the moment you receive this. If you can forge an excuse I almost promise you to believe it. Betrayed too----I will think no more.----Come to me directly.----This is the third letter I have writ, the two former are burnt----I am almost inclined to burn this too----I wish I may preserve my senses.----Come to me presently."

  LETTER II.

  "If you ever expect to be forgiven, or even suffered within my doors, come to me this instant."

  LETTER III.

  "I now find you was not at home when my notes came to your lodgings. The moment you receive this let me see you;--I shall not stir out; nor shall anybody be let in but yourself. Sure nothing can detain you long."

  Jones had just read over these three billets when Mr Nightingale cameinto the room. "Well, Tom," said he, "any news from Lady Bellaston,after last night's adventure?" (for it was now no secret to any one inthat house who the lady was). "The Lady Bellaston?" answered Jonesvery gravely.----"Nay, dear Tom," cries Nightingale, "don't be soreserved to your friends. Though I was too drunk to see her lastnight, I saw her at the masquerade. Do you think I am ignorant who thequeen of the fairies is?" "And did you really then know the lady atthe masquerade?" said Jones. "Yes, upon my soul, did I," saidNightingale, "and have given you twenty hints of it since, though youseemed always so tender on that point, that I would not speak plainly.I fancy, my friend, by your extreme nicety in this matter, you are notso well acquainted with the character of the lady as with her person.Don't be angry, Tom, but upon my honour, you are not the first youngfellow she hath debauched. Her reputation is in no danger, believeme."

  Though Jones had no reason to imagine the lady to have been of thevestal kind when his amour began; yet, as he was thoroughly ignorantof the town, and had very little acquaintance in it, he had noknowledge of that character which is vulgarly called a demirep; thatis to say, a woman who intrigues with every man she likes, under thename and appearance of virtue; and who, though some over-nice ladieswill not be seen with her, is visited (as they term it) by the wholetown, in short, whom everybody knows to be what nobody calls her.

  When he found, therefore, that Nightingale was perfectly acquaintedwith his intrigue, and began to suspect that so scrupulous a delicacyas he had hitherto observed was not quite necessary on the occasion,he gave a latitude to his friend's tongue, and desired him to speakplainly what he knew, or had ever heard of the lady.

  Nightingale, who, in many other instances, was rather too effeminatein his disposition, had a pretty strong inclination to tittle-tattle.He had no sooner, therefore, received a full liberty of speaking fromJones, than he entered upon a long narrative concerning the lady;which, as it contained many particulars highly to her dishonour, wehave too great a tenderness for all women of condition to repeat. Wewould cautiously avoid giving an opportunity to the futurecommentators on our works, of making any malicious application and offorcing us to be, against our will, the author of scandal, which neverentered into our head.

  Jones, having very attentively heard all that Nightingale had to say,fetched a deep sigh; which the other, observing, cried, "Heyday! why,thou art not in love, I hope! Had I imagined my stories would haveaffected you, I promise you should never have heard them." "O my dearfriend!" cries Jones, "I am so entangled with this woman, that I knownot how to extricate myself. In love, indeed! no, my friend, but I amunder obligations to her, and very great ones. Since you know so much,I will be very explicit with you. It is owing, perhaps, solely to her,that I have not, before this, wanted a bit of bread. How can Ipossibly desert such a woman? and yet I must desert her, or be guiltyof the blackest treachery to one who deserves infinitely better of methan she can; a woman, my Nightingale, for whom I have a passion whichfew can have an idea of. I am half distracted with doubts how to act.""And is this other, pray, an honourable mistress?" cries Nightingale."Honourable!" answered Jones; "no breath ever yet durst sully herreputation. The sweetest air is not purer, the limpid stream notclearer, than her honour. She is all over, both in mind and body,consummate perfection. She is the most beautiful creature in theuniverse: and yet she is mistress of such noble elevated qualities,that, though she is never from my thoughts, I scarce ever think of herbeauty but when I see it."--"And can you, my good friend," criesNightingale, "with such an engagement as this upon your hands,hesitate a moment about quitting such a--" "Hold," said Jones, "nomore abuse of her: I detest the thought of ingratitude." "Pooh!"answered the other, "you are not the first upon whom she hathconferred obligations of this kind. She is remarkably liberal whereshe likes; though, let me tell you, her favours are so prudentlybestowed, that they should rather raise a man's vanity than hisgratitude." In short, Nightingale proceeded so far on this head, andtold his friend so many stories of the lady, which he swore to thetruth of, that he entirely removed all esteem for her from the breastof Jones; and his gratitude was lessened in proportion. Indeed, hebegan to look on all the favours he had received rather as wages thanbenefits, which depreciated not only her, but himself too in his ownconceit, and put him quite out of humour with both. From this disgust,his mind, by a natural transition, turned towards Sophia; her virtue,her purity, her love to him, her sufferings on his account, filled allhis thoughts, and made his commerce with Lady Bellaston appear stillmore odious. The result of all was, that, though his turning himselfout of her service, in which light he now saw his affair with her,would be the loss of his bread; yet he determined to quit her, if hecould but find a handsome pretence: which being communicated to hisfriend, Nightingale considered a little, and then said, "I have it, myboy! I have found out a sure method; propose marriage to her, and Iwould venture hanging upon the success." "Marriage?" cries Jones. "Ay,propose marriage," answered Nightingale, "and she will declare off ina moment. I knew a young fellow whom she kept formerly, who made theoffer to her in earnest, and was presently turned off for his pains."

  Jones declared he could not venture the experiment. "Perhaps," saidhe, "she may be less shocked at this proposal from one man than fromanother. And if she should take me at my word, where am I then?caught, in my own trap, and undone for ever." "No;" answeredNightingale, "not if I can give you an expedient by which you may atany time get out of the trap."----"What expedient can that be?"replied Jones. "This," answered Nightingale. "The young fellow Imentioned, who is one of the most intimate acquaintances I have in theworld, is so angry with her for some ill offices she hath since donehim, that I am sure he would, without any difficulty, give you a sightof her letters; upon which you may decently break with her; anddeclare off before the knot is tyed, if she should really be willingto tie it, which I am convinced she will not."

  After some hesitation, Jones, upon the strength of this assurance,consented; but, as he swore he wanted the confidence to propose thematter to her face, he wrote the following letter, which Nightingaledictated:--

  "MADAM,

  "I am extremely concerned, that, by an unfortunate engagement abroad, I should have missed receiving the honour of your ladyship's commands the moment they came; and the delay which I must now suffer of vindicating myself to your ladyship greatly adds to this misfortune. O, Lady Bellaston! what a terror have I been in for fear your reputation should be exposed by these perverse accidents! There is one only way to secure it. I need not name what that is. Only permit me to s
ay, that as your honour is as dear to me as my own, so my sole ambition is to have the glory of laying my liberty at your feet; and believe me when I assure you, I can never be made completely happy without you generously bestow on me a legal right of calling you mine for ever.--I am,

  madam, with most profound respect, your ladyship's most obliged, obedient, humble servant, THOMAS JONES."

  To this she presently returned the following answer:

  "SIR,

  "When I read over your serious epistle, I could, from its coldness and formality, have sworn that you already had the legal right you mention; nay, that we had for many years composed that monstrous animal a husband and wife. Do you really then imagine me a fool? or do you fancy yourself capable of so entirely persuading me out of my senses, that I should deliver my whole fortune into your power, in order to enable you to support your pleasures at my expense? Are these the proofs of love which I expected? Is this the return for--? but I scorn to upbraid you, and am in great admiration of your profound respect.

  "P.S. I am prevented from revising:----Perhaps I have said more than I meant.----Come to me at eight this evening."

  Jones, by the advice of his privy-council, replied:

  "MADAM,

  "It is impossible to express how much I am shocked at the suspicion you entertain of me. Can Lady Bellaston have conferred favours on a man whom she could believe capable of so base a design? or can she treat the most solemn tie of love with contempt? Can you imagine, madam, that if the violence of my passion, in an unguarded moment, overcame the tenderness which I have for your honour, I would think of indulging myself in the continuance of an intercourse which could not possibly escape long the notice of the world; and which, when discovered, must prove so fatal to your reputation? If such be your opinion of me, I must pray for a sudden opportunity of returning those pecuniary obligations, which I have been so unfortunate to receive at your hands; and for those of a more tender kind, I shall ever remain, &c." And so concluded in the very words with which he had concluded the former letter.

  The lady answered as follows:

  "I see you are a villain! and I despise you from my soul. If you come here I shall not be at home."

  Though Jones was well satisfied with his deliverance from a thraldomwhich those who have ever experienced it will, I apprehend, allow tobe none of the lightest, he was not, however, perfectly easy in hismind. There was in this scheme too much of fallacy to satisfy one whoutterly detested every species of falshood or dishonesty: nor wouldhe, indeed, have submitted to put it in practice, had he not beeninvolved in a distressful situation, where he was obliged to be guiltyof some dishonour, either to the one lady or the other; and surely thereader will allow, that every good principle, as well as love, pleadedstrongly in favour of Sophia.

  Nightingale highly exulted in the success of his stratagem, upon whichhe received many thanks and much applause from his friend. Heanswered, "Dear Tom, we have conferred very different obligations oneach other. To me you owe the regaining your liberty; to you I owe theloss of mine. But if you are as happy in the one instance as I am inthe other, I promise you we are the two happiest fellows in England."

  The two gentlemen were now summoned down to dinner, where Mrs Miller,who performed herself the office of cook, had exerted her best talentsto celebrate the wedding of her daughter. This joyful circumstance sheascribed principally to the friendly behaviour of Jones, her wholesoul was fired with gratitude towards him, and all her looks, words,and actions, were so busied in expressing it, that her daughter, andeven her new son-in-law, were very little objects of herconsideration.

  Dinner was just ended when Mrs Miller received a letter; but as wehave had letters enow in this chapter, we shall communicate itscontents in our next.