The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling Henry Fielding - 24

Blifil suffered himself to be overpowered by the forcible rhetoric of
the squire; and it being agreed that Western should close with
Allworthy that very afternoon, the lover departed home, having first
earnestly begged that no violence might be offered to the lady by this
haste, in the same manner as a popish inquisitor begs the lay power to
do no violence to the heretic delivered over to it, and against whom
the church hath passed sentence.

And, to say the truth, Blifil had passed sentence against Sophia; for,
however pleased he had declared himself to Western with his reception,
he was by no means satisfied, unless it was that he was convinced of
the hatred and scorn of his mistress: and this had produced no less
reciprocal hatred and scorn in him. It may, perhaps, be asked, Why
then did he not put an immediate end to all further courtship? I
answer, for that very reason, as well as for several others equally
good, which we shall now proceed to open to the reader.

Though Mr Blifil was not of the complexion of Jones, nor ready to eat
every woman he saw; yet he was far from being destitute of that
appetite which is said to be the common property of all animals. With
this, he had likewise that distinguishing taste, which serves to
direct men in their choice of the object or food of their several
appetites; and this taught him to consider Sophia as a most delicious
morsel, indeed to regard her with the same desires which an ortolan
inspires into the soul of an epicure. Now the agonies which affected
the mind of Sophia, rather augmented than impaired her beauty; for her
tears added brightness to her eyes, and her breasts rose higher with
her sighs. Indeed, no one hath seen beauty in its highest lustre who
hath never seen it in distress. Blifil therefore looked on this human
ortolan with greater desire than when he viewed her last; nor was his
desire at all lessened by the aversion which he discovered in her to
himself. On the contrary, this served rather to heighten the pleasure
he proposed in rifling her charms, as it added triumph to lust; nay,
he had some further views, from obtaining the absolute possession of
her person, which we detest too much even to mention; and revenge
itself was not without its share in the gratifications which he
promised himself. The rivalling poor Jones, and supplanting him in her
affections, added another spur to his pursuit, and promised another
additional rapture to his enjoyment.

Besides all these views, which to some scrupulous persons may seem to
savour too much of malevolence, he had one prospect, which few readers
will regard with any great abhorrence. And this was the estate of Mr
Western; which was all to be settled on his daughter and her issue;
for so extravagant was the affection of that fond parent, that,
provided his child would but consent to be miserable with the husband
he chose, he cared not at what price he purchased him.

For these reasons Mr Blifil was so desirous of the match that he
intended to deceive Sophia, by pretending love to her; and to deceive
her father and his own uncle, by pretending he was beloved by her. In
doing this he availed himself of the piety of Thwackum, who held, that
if the end proposed was religious (as surely matrimony is), it
mattered not how wicked were the means. As to other occasions, he used
to apply the philosophy of Square, which taught, that the end was
immaterial, so that the means were fair and consistent with moral
rectitude. To say truth, there were few occurrences in life on which
he could not draw advantage from the precepts of one or other of those
great masters.

Little deceit was indeed necessary to be practised on Mr Western; who
thought the inclinations of his daughter of as little consequence as
Blifil himself conceived them to be; but as the sentiments of Mr
Allworthy were of a very different kind, so it was absolutely
necessary to impose on him. In this, however, Blifil was so well
assisted by Western, that he succeeded without difficulty; for as Mr
Allworthy had been assured by her father that Sophia had a proper
affection for Blifil, and that all which he had suspected concerning
Jones was entirely false, Blifil had nothing more to do than to
confirm these assertions; which he did with such equivocations, that
he preserved a salvo for his conscience; and had the satisfaction of
conveying a lie to his uncle, without the guilt of telling one. When
he was examined touching the inclinations of Sophia by Allworthy, who
said, "He would on no account be accessary to forcing a young lady
into a marriage contrary to her own will;" he answered, "That the real
sentiments of young ladies were very difficult to be understood; that
her behaviour to him was full as forward as he wished it, and that if
he could believe her father, she had all the affection for him which
any lover could desire. As for Jones," said he, "whom I am loth to
call villain, though his behaviour to you, sir, sufficiently justifies
the appellation, his own vanity, or perhaps some wicked views, might
make him boast of a falsehood; for if there had been any reality in
Miss Western's love to him, the greatness of her fortune would never
have suffered him to desert her, as you are well informed he hath.
Lastly, sir, I promise you I would not myself, for any consideration,
no, not for the whole world, consent to marry this young lady, if I
was not persuaded she had all the passion for me which I desire she
should have."

This excellent method of conveying a falsehood with the heart only,
without making the tongue guilty of an untruth, by the means of
equivocation and imposture, hath quieted the conscience of many a
notable deceiver; and yet, when we consider that it is Omniscience on
which these endeavour to impose, it may possibly seem capable of
affording only a very superficial comfort; and that this artful and
refined distinction between communicating a lie, and telling one, is
hardly worth the pains it costs them.

Allworthy was pretty well satisfied with what Mr Western and Mr Blifil
told him: and the treaty was now, at the end of two days, concluded.
Nothing then remained previous to the office of the priest, but the
office of the lawyers, which threatened to take up so much time, that
Western offered to bind himself by all manner of covenants, rather
than defer the happiness of the young couple. Indeed, he was so very
earnest and pressing, that an indifferent person might have concluded
he was more a principal in this match than he really was; but this
eagerness was natural to him on all occasions: and he conducted every
scheme he undertook in such a manner, as if the success of that alone
was sufficient to constitute the whole happiness of his life.

The joint importunities of both father and son-in-law would probably
have prevailed on Mr Allworthy, who brooked but ill any delay of
giving happiness to others, had not Sophia herself prevented it, and
taken measures to put a final end to the whole treaty, and to rob both
church and law of those taxes which these wise bodies have thought
proper to receive from the propagation of the human species in a
lawful manner. Of which in the next chapter.



Chapter vii.

A strange resolution of Sophia, and a more strange stratagem of Mrs
Honour.


Though Mrs Honour was principally attached to her own interest, she
was not without some little attachment to Sophia. To say truth, it was
very difficult for any one to know that young lady without loving her.
She no sooner therefore heard a piece of news, which she imagined to
be of great importance to her mistress, than, quite forgetting the
anger which she had conceived two days before, at her unpleasant
dismission from Sophia's presence, she ran hastily to inform her of
the news.

The beginning of her discourse was as abrupt as her entrance into the
room. "O dear ma'am!" says she, "what doth your la'ship think? To be
sure I am frightened out of my wits; and yet I thought it my duty to
tell your la'ship, though perhaps it may make you angry, for we
servants don't always know what will make our ladies angry; for, to be
sure, everything is always laid to the charge of a servant. When our
ladies are out of humour, to be sure we must be scolded; and to be
sure I should not wonder if your la'ship should be out of humour; nay,
it must surprize you certainly, ay, and shock you too."--"Good Honour,
let me know it without any longer preface," says Sophia; "there are
few things, I promise you, which will surprize, and fewer which will
shock me."--"Dear ma'am," answered Honour, "to be sure, I overheard my
master talking to parson Supple about getting a licence this very
afternoon; and to be sure I heard him say, your la'ship should be
married to-morrow morning." Sophia turned pale at these words, and
repeated eagerly, "To-morrow morning!"--"Yes, ma'am," replied the
trusty waiting-woman, "I will take my oath I heard my master say
so."--"Honour," says Sophia, "you have both surprized and shocked me
to such a degree that I have scarce any breath or spirits left. What
is to be done in my dreadful situation?"--"I wish I was able to advise
your la'ship," says she. "Do advise me," cries Sophia; "pray, dear
Honour, advise me. Think what you would attempt if it was your own
case."--"Indeed, ma'am," cries Honour, "I wish your la'ship and I
could change situations; that is, I mean without hurting your la'ship;
for to be sure I don't wish you so bad as to be a servant; but because
that if so be it was my case, I should find no manner of difficulty in
it; for, in my poor opinion, young Squire Blifil is a charming, sweet,
handsome man."--"Don't mention such stuff," cries Sophia. "Such
stuff!" repeated Honour; "why, there. Well, to be sure, what's one
man's meat is another man's poison, and the same is altogether as true
of women."--"Honour," says Sophia, "rather than submit to be the wife
of that contemptible wretch, I would plunge a dagger into my
heart."--"O lud! ma'am!" answered the other, "I am sure you frighten
me out of my wits now. Let me beseech your la'ship not to suffer such
wicked thoughts to come into your head. O lud! to be sure I tremble
every inch of me. Dear ma'am, consider, that to be denied Christian
burial, and to have your corpse buried in the highway, and a stake
drove through you, as farmer Halfpenny was served at Ox Cross; and, to
be sure, his ghost hath walked there ever since, for several people
have seen him. To be sure it can be nothing but the devil which can
put such wicked thoughts into the head of anybody; for certainly it is
less wicked to hurt all the world than one's own dear self; and so I
have heard said by more parsons than one. If your la'ship hath such a
violent aversion, and hates the young gentleman so very bad, that you
can't bear to think of going into bed to him; for to be sure there may
be such antipathies in nature, and one had lieverer touch a toad than
the flesh of some people."--

Sophia had been too much wrapt in contemplation to pay any great
attention to the foregoing excellent discourse of her maid;
interrupting her therefore, without making any answer to it, she said,
"Honour, I am come to a resolution. I am determined to leave my
father's house this very night; and if you have the friendship for me
which you have often professed, you will keep me company."--"That I
will, ma'am, to the world's end," answered Honour; "but I beg your
la'ship to consider the consequence before you undertake any rash
action. Where can your la'ship possibly go?"--"There is," replied
Sophia, "a lady of quality in London, a relation of mine, who spent
several months with my aunt in the country; during all which time she
treated me with great kindness, and expressed so much pleasure in my
company, that she earnestly desired my aunt to suffer me to go with
her to London. As she is a woman of very great note, I shall easily
find her out, and I make no doubt of being very well and kindly
received by her."--"I would not have your la'ship too confident of
that," cries Honour; "for the first lady I lived with used to invite
people very earnestly to her house; but if she heard afterwards they
were coming, she used to get out of the way. Besides, though this lady
would be very glad to see your la'ship, as to be sure anybody would be
glad to see your la'ship, yet when she hears your la'ship is run away
from my master--" "You are mistaken, Honour," says Sophia: "she looks
upon the authority of a father in a much lower light than I do; for
she pressed me violently to go to London with her, and when I refused
to go without my father's consent, she laughed me to scorn, called me
silly country girl, and said, I should make a pure loving wife, since
I could be so dutiful a daughter. So I have no doubt but she will both
receive me and protect me too, till my father, finding me out of his
power, can be brought to some reason."

"Well, but, ma'am," answered Honour, "how doth your la'ship think of
making your escape? Where will you get any horses or conveyance? For
as for your own horse, as all the servants know a little how matters
stand between my master and your la'ship, Robin will be hanged before
he will suffer it to go out of the stable without my master's express
orders." "I intend to escape," said Sophia, "by walking out of the
doors when they are open. I thank Heaven my legs are very able to
carry me. They have supported me many a long evening"--"Yes, to be
sure," cries Honour, "I will follow your la'ship through the world;
but your la'ship had almost as good be alone: for I should not be able
to defend you, if any robbers, or other villains, should meet with
you. Nay, I should be in as horrible a fright as your la'ship; for to
be certain, they would ravish us both. Besides, ma'am, consider how
cold the nights are now; we shall be frozen to death."--"A good brisk
pace," answered Sophia, "will preserve us from the cold; and if you
cannot defend me from a villain, Honour, I will defend you; for I will
take a pistol with me. There are two always charged in the
hall."--"Dear ma'am, you frighten me more and more," cries Honour:
"sure your la'ship would not venture to fire it off! I had rather run
any chance than your la'ship should do that."--"Why so?" says Sophia,
smiling; "would not you, Honour, fire a pistol at any one who should
attack your virtue?"--"To be sure, ma'am," cries Honour, "one's virtue
is a dear thing, especially to us poor servants; for it is our
livelihood, as a body may say: yet I mortally hate fire-arms; for so
many accidents happen by them."--"Well, well," says Sophia, "I believe
I may ensure your virtue at a very cheap rate, without carrying any
arms with us; for I intend to take horses at the very first town we
come to, and we shall hardly be attacked in our way thither. Look'ee,
Honour, I am resolved to go; and if you will attend me, I promise you
I will reward you to the very utmost of my power."

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 a 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. "O, 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; though sometimes, 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 Quevedo, injure the
devil by any false accusation, 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 though she was intitled to her mother's
fortune at the death of her father, and to the sum of £3000 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 humour 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, "what 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 though 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
shows 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 Mrs 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 overreach 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, 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--n'd 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.

The squire, therefore, putting on a most wise and significant
countenance, after a preface of several hums and hahs, 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,