History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
music, statuary, and natural philosophy, or rather _unnatural_, which
deals in the wonderful, and knows nothing of Nature, except her
monsters and imperfections.
When Jones had spent the whole day in vain enquiries after Mrs
Fitzpatrick, he returned at last disconsolate to his apartment. Here,
while he was venting his grief in private, he heard a violent uproar
below-stairs; and soon after a female voice begged him for heaven's
sake to come and prevent murder. Jones, who was never backward on any
occasion to help the distressed, immediately ran down-stairs; when
stepping into the dining-room, whence all the noise issued, he beheld
the young gentleman of wisdom and vertù just before mentioned, pinned
close to the wall by his footman, and a young woman standing by,
wringing her hands, and crying out, “He will be murdered! he will be
murdered!” and, indeed, the poor gentleman seemed in some danger of
being choaked, when Jones flew hastily to his assistance, and rescued
him, just as he was breathing his last, from the unmerciful clutches
of the enemy.
Though the fellow had received several kicks and cuffs from the little
gentleman, who had more spirit than strength, he had made it a kind of
scruple of conscience to strike his master, and would have contented
himself with only choaking him; but towards Jones he bore no such
respect; he no sooner therefore found himself a little roughly handled
by his new antagonist, than he gave him one of those punches in the
guts which, though the spectators at Broughton's amphitheatre have
such exquisite delight in seeing them, convey but very little pleasure
in the feeling.
The lusty youth had no sooner received this blow, than he meditated a
most grateful return; and now ensued a combat between Jones and the
footman, which was very fierce, but short; for this fellow was no more
able to contend with Jones than his master had before been to contend
with him.
And now, Fortune, according to her usual custom, reversed the face of
affairs. The former victor lay breathless on the ground, and the
vanquished gentleman had recovered breath enough to thank Mr Jones for
his seasonable assistance; he received likewise the hearty thanks of
the young woman present, who was indeed no other than Miss Nancy, the
eldest daughter of the house.
The footman, having now recovered his legs, shook his head at Jones,
and, with a sagacious look, cried--“O d--n me, I'll have nothing more
to do with you; you have been upon the stage, or I'm d--nably
mistaken.” And indeed we may forgive this his suspicion; for such was
the agility and strength of our heroe, that he was, perhaps, a match
for one of the first-rate boxers, and could, with great ease, have
beaten all the muffled[*] graduates of Mr Broughton's school.
[*] Lest posterity should be puzzled by this epithet, I think proper
to explain it by an advertisement which was published Feb. 1, 1747.
N.B.--Mr Broughton proposes, with proper assistance, to open an
academy at his house in the Haymarket, for the instruction of those
who are willing to be initiated in the mystery of boxing: where the
whole theory and practice of that truly British art, with all the
various stops, blows, cross-buttocks, &c., incident to combatants,
will be fully taught and explained; and that persons of quality and
distinction may not be deterred from entering into _A course of
those lectures_, they will be given with the utmost tenderness and
regard to the delicacy of the frame and constitution of the pupil,
for which reason muffles are provided, that will effectually secure
them from the inconveniency of black eyes, broken jaws, and bloody
noses.
The master, foaming with wrath, ordered his man immediately to strip,
to which the latter very readily agreed, on condition of receiving his
wages. This condition was presently complied with, and the fellow was
discharged.
And now the young gentleman, whose name was Nightingale, very
strenuously insisted that his deliverer should take part of a bottle
of wine with him; to which Jones, after much entreaty, consented,
though more out of complacence than inclination; for the uneasiness of
his mind fitted him very little for conversation at this time. Miss
Nancy likewise, who was the only female then in the house, her mamma
and sister being both gone to the play, condescended to favour them
with her company.
When the bottle and glasses were on the table the gentleman began to
relate the occasion of the preceding disturbance.
“I hope, sir,” said he to Jones, “you will not from this accident
conclude, that I make a custom of striking my servants, for I assure
you this is the first time I have been guilty of it in my remembrance,
and I have passed by many provoking faults in this very fellow, before
he could provoke me to it; but when you hear what hath happened this
evening, you will, I believe, think me excusable. I happened to come
home several hours before my usual time, when I found four gentlemen
of the cloth at whist by my fire;--and my Hoyle, sir--my best Hoyle,
which cost me a guinea, lying open on the table, with a quantity of
porter spilt on one of the most material leaves of the whole book.
This, you will allow, was provoking; but I said nothing till the rest
of the honest company were gone, and then gave the fellow a gentle
rebuke, who, instead of expressing any concern, made me a pert answer,
`That servants must have their diversions as well as other people;
that he was sorry for the accident which had happened to the book, but
that several of his acquaintance had bought the same for a shilling,
and that I might stop as much in his wages, if I pleased.' I now gave
him a severer reprimand than before, when the rascal had the insolence
to---In short, he imputed my early coming home to----In short, he cast
a reflection----He mentioned the name of a young lady, in a manner--in
such a manner that incensed me beyond all patience, and, in my
passion, I struck him.”
Jones answered, “That he believed no person living would blame him;
for my part,” said he, “I confess I should, on the last-mentioned
provocation, have done the same thing.”
Our company had not sat long before they were joined by the mother and
daughter, at their return from the play. And now they all spent a very
chearful evening together; for all but Jones were heartily merry, and
even he put on as much constrained mirth as possible. Indeed, half his
natural flow of animal spirits, joined to the sweetness of his temper,
was sufficient to make a most amiable companion; and notwithstanding
the heaviness of his heart, so agreeable did he make himself on the
present occasion, that, at their breaking up, the young gentleman
earnestly desired his further acquaintance. Miss Nancy was well
pleased with him; and the widow, quite charmed with her new lodger,
invited him, with the other, next morning to breakfast.
Jones on his part was no less satisfied. As for Miss Nancy, though a
very little creature, she was extremely pretty, and the widow had all
the charms which can adorn a woman near fifty. As she was one of the
most innocent creatures in the world, so she was one of the most
chearful. She never thought, nor spoke, nor wished any ill, and had
constantly that desire of pleasing, which may be called the happiest
of all desires in this, that it scarce ever fails of attaining its
ends, when not disgraced by affectation. In short, though her power
was very small, she was in her heart one of the warmest friends. She
had been a most affectionate wife, and was a most fond and tender
mother. As our history doth not, like a newspaper, give great
characters to people who never were heard of before, nor will ever be
heard of again, the reader may hence conclude, that this excellent
woman will hereafter appear to be of some importance in our history.
Nor was Jones a little pleased with the young gentleman himself, whose
wine he had been drinking. He thought he discerned in him much good
sense, though a little too much tainted with town-foppery; but what
recommended him most to Jones were some sentiments of great generosity
and humanity, which occasionally dropt from him; and particularly many
expressions of the highest disinterestedness in the affair of love. On
which subject the young gentleman delivered himself in a language
which might have very well become an Arcadian shepherd of old, and
which appeared very extraordinary when proceeding from the lips of a
modern fine gentleman; but he was only one by imitation, and meant by
nature for a much better character.
Chapter vi.
What arrived while the company were at breakfast, with some hints
concerning the government of daughters.
Our company brought together in the morning the same good inclinations
towards each other, with which they had separated the evening before;
but poor Jones was extremely disconsolate; for he had just received
information from Partridge, that Mrs Fitzpatrick had left her lodging,
and that he could not learn whither she was gone. This news highly
afflicted him, and his countenance, as well as his behaviour, in
defiance of all his endeavours to the contrary, betrayed manifest
indications of a disordered mind.
The discourse turned at present, as before, on love; and Mr
Nightingale again expressed many of those warm, generous, and
disinterested sentiments upon this subject, which wise and sober men
call romantic, but which wise and sober women generally regard in a
better light. Mrs Miller (for so the mistress of the house was called)
greatly approved these sentiments; but when the young gentleman
appealed to Miss Nancy, she answered only, “That she believed the
gentleman who had spoke the least was capable of feeling most.”
This compliment was so apparently directed to Jones, that we should
have been sorry had he passed it by unregarded. He made her indeed a
very polite answer, and concluded with an oblique hint, that her own
silence subjected her to a suspicion of the same kind: for indeed she
had scarce opened her lips either now or the last evening.
“I am glad, Nanny,” says Mrs Miller, “the gentleman hath made the
observation; I protest I am almost of his opinion. What can be the
matter with you, child? I never saw such an alteration. What is become
of all your gaiety? Would you think, sir, I used to call her my little
prattler? She hath not spoke twenty words this week.”
Here their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a
maid-servant, who brought a bundle in her hand, which, she said, “was
delivered by a porter for Mr Jones.” She added, “That the man
immediately went away, saying, it required no answer.”
Jones expressed some surprize on this occasion, and declared it must
be some mistake; but the maid persisting that she was certain of the
name, all the women were desirous of having the bundle immediately
opened; which operation was at length performed by little Betsy, with
the consent of Mr Jones: and the contents were found to be a domino, a
mask, and a masquerade ticket.
Jones was now more positive than ever in asserting, that these things
must have been delivered by mistake; and Mrs Miller herself expressed
some doubt, and said, “She knew not what to think.” But when Mr
Nightingale was asked, he delivered a very different opinion. “All I
can conclude from it, sir,” said he, “is, that you are a very happy
man; for I make no doubt but these were sent you by some lady whom you
will have the happiness of meeting at the masquerade.”
Jones had not a sufficient degree of vanity to entertain any such
flattering imagination; nor did Mrs Miller herself give much assent to
what Mr Nightingale had said, till Miss Nancy having lifted up the
domino, a card dropt from the sleeve, in which was written as
follows:--