History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
before she spoke; and then, instead of answering him, sat down, and
declared she was tired. Jones sat down by her, and still persisted in
his entreaties; at last the lady coldly answered, “I imagined Mr Jones
had been a more discerning lover, than to suffer any disguise to
conceal his mistress from him.” “Is she here, then, madam?” replied
Jones, with some vehemence. Upon which the lady cried--“Hush, sir, you
will be observed. I promise you, upon my honour, Miss Western is not
here.”
Jones, now taking the mask by the hand, fell to entreating her in the
most earnest manner, to acquaint him where he might find Sophia; and
when he could obtain no direct answer, he began to upbraid her gently
for having disappointed him the day before; and concluded, saying,
“Indeed, my good fairy queen, I know your majesty very well,
notwithstanding the affected disguise of your voice. Indeed, Mrs
Fitzpatrick, it is a little cruel to divert yourself at the expense of
my torments.”
The mask answered, “Though you have so ingeniously discovered me, I
must still speak in the same voice, lest I should be known by others.
And do you think, good sir, that I have no greater regard for my
cousin, than to assist in carrying on an affair between you two, which
must end in her ruin, as well as your own? Besides, I promise you, my
cousin is not mad enough to consent to her own destruction, if you are
so much her enemy as to tempt her to it.”
“Alas, madam!” said Jones, “you little know my heart, when you call me
an enemy of Sophia.”
“And yet to ruin any one,” cries the other, “you will allow, is the
act of an enemy; and when by the same act you must knowingly and
certainly bring ruin on yourself, is it not folly or madness, as well
as guilt? Now, sir, my cousin hath very little more than her father
will please to give her; very little for one of her fashion--you know
him, and you know your own situation.”
Jones vowed he had no such design on Sophia, “That he would rather
suffer the most violent of deaths than sacrifice her interest to his
desires.” He said, “he knew how unworthy he was of her, every way,
that he had long ago resolved to quit all such aspiring thoughts, but
that some strange accidents had made him desirous to see her once
more, when he promised he would take leave of her for ever. No,
madam,” concluded he, “my love is not of that base kind which seeks
its own satisfaction at the expense of what is most dear to its
object. I would sacrifice everything to the possession of my Sophia,
but Sophia herself.”
Though the reader may have already conceived no very sublime idea of
the virtue of the lady in the mask; and though possibly she may
hereafter appear not to deserve one of the first characters of her
sex; yet, it is certain, these generous sentiments made a strong
impression upon her, and greatly added to the affection she had before
conceived for our young heroe.
The lady now, after silence of a few moments, said, “She did not see
his pretensions to Sophia so much in the light of presumption, as of
imprudence. Young fellows,” says she, “can never have too aspiring
thoughts. I love ambition in a young man, and I would have you
cultivate it as much as possible. Perhaps you may succeed with those
who are infinitely superior in fortune; nay, I am convinced there are
women----but don't you think me a strange creature, Mr Jones, to be
thus giving advice to a man with whom I am so little acquainted, and
one with whose behaviour to me I have so little reason to be pleased?”
Here Jones began to apologize, and to hope he had not offended in
anything he had said of her cousin.--To which the mask answered, “And
are you so little versed in the sex, to imagine you can well affront a
lady more than by entertaining her with your passion for another
woman? If the fairy queen had conceived no better opinion of your
gallantry, she would scarce have appointed you to meet her at the
masquerade.”
Jones had never less inclination to an amour than at present; but
gallantry to the ladies was among his principles of honour; and he
held it as much incumbent on him to accept a challenge to love, as if
it had been a challenge to fight. Nay, his very love to Sophia made it
necessary for him to keep well with the lady, as he made no doubt but
she was capable of bringing him into the presence of the other.
He began therefore to make a very warm answer to her last speech, when
a mask, in the character of an old woman, joined them. This mask was
one of those ladies who go to a masquerade only to vent ill-nature, by
telling people rude truths, and by endeavouring, as the phrase is, to
spoil as much sport as they are able. This good lady, therefore,
having observed Jones, and his friend, whom she well knew, in close
consultation together in a corner of the room, concluded she could
nowhere satisfy her spleen better than by interrupting them. She
attacked them, therefore, and soon drove them from their retirement;
nor was she contented with this, but pursued them to every place which
they shifted to avoid her; till Mr Nightingale, seeing the distress of
his friend, at last relieved him, and engaged the old woman in another
pursuit.
While Jones and his mask were walking together about the room, to rid
themselves of the teazer, he observed his lady speak to several masks,
with the same freedom of acquaintance as if they had been barefaced.
He could not help expressing his surprize at this; saying, “Sure,
madam, you must have infinite discernment, to know people in all
disguises.” To which the lady answered, “You cannot conceive anything
more insipid and childish than a masquerade to the people of fashion,
who in general know one another as well here as when they meet in an
assembly or a drawing-room; nor will any woman of condition converse
with a person with whom she is not acquainted. In short, the
generality of persons whom you see here may more properly be said to
kill time in this place than in any other; and generally retire from
hence more tired than from the longest sermon. To say the truth, I
begin to be in that situation myself; and if I have any faculty at
guessing, you are not much better pleased. I protest it would be
almost charity in me to go home for your sake.” “I know but one
charity equal to it,” cries Jones, “and that is to suffer me to wait
on you home.” “Sure,” answered the lady, “you have a strange opinion
of me, to imagine, that upon such an acquaintance, I would let you
into my doors at this time of night. I fancy you impute the friendship
I have shown my cousin to some other motive. Confess honestly; don't
you consider this contrived interview as little better than a
downright assignation? Are you used, Mr Jones, to make these sudden
conquests?” “I am not used, madam,” said Jones, “to submit to such
sudden conquests; but as you have taken my heart by surprize, the rest
of my body hath a right to follow; so you must pardon me if I resolve
to attend you wherever you go.” He accompanied these words with some
proper actions; upon which the lady, after a gentle rebuke, and saying
their familiarity would be observed, told him, “She was going to sup
with an acquaintance, whither she hoped he would not follow her; for
if you should,” said she, “I shall be thought an unaccountable
creature, though my friend indeed is not censorious: yet I hope you
won't follow me; I protest I shall not know what to say if you do.”
The lady presently after quitted the masquerade, and Jones,
notwithstanding the severe prohibition he had received, presumed to
attend her. He was now reduced to the same dilemma we have mentioned
before, namely, the want of a shilling, and could not relieve it by
borrowing as before. He therefore walked boldly on after the chair in
which his lady rode, pursued by a grand huzza, from all the chairmen
present, who wisely take the best care they can to discountenance all
walking afoot by their betters. Luckily, however, the gentry who
attend at the Opera-house were too busy to quit their stations, and as
the lateness of the hour prevented him from meeting many of their
brethren in the street, he proceeded without molestation, in a dress,
which, at another season, would have certainly raised a mob at his
heels.
The lady was set down in a street not far from Hanover-square, where
the door being presently opened, she was carried in, and the
gentleman, without any ceremony, walked in after her.
Jones and his companion were now together in a very well-furnished and
well-warmed room; when the female, still speaking in her masquerade
voice, said she was surprized at her friend, who must absolutely have
forgot her appointment; at which, after venting much resentment, she
suddenly exprest some apprehension from Jones, and asked him what the
world would think of their having been alone together in a house at
that time of night? But instead of a direct answer to so important a
question, Jones began to be very importunate with the lady to unmask;
and at length having prevailed, there appeared not Mrs Fitzpatrick,
but the Lady Bellaston herself.
It would be tedious to give the particular conversation, which
consisted of very common and ordinary occurrences, and which lasted
from two till six o'clock in the morning. It is sufficient to mention
all of it that is anywise material to this history. And this was a
promise that the lady would endeavour to find out Sophia, and in a few
days bring him to an interview with her, on condition that he would
then take his leave of her. When this was thoroughly settled, and a
second meeting in the evening appointed at the same place, they
separated; the lady returned to her house, and Jones to his lodgings.
Chapter viii.
Containing a scene of distress, which will appear very extraordinary
to most of our readers.
Jones having refreshed himself with a few hours' sleep, summoned
Partridge to his presence; and delivering him a bank-note of fifty
pounds, ordered him to go and change it. Partridge received this with
sparkling eyes, though, when he came to reflect farther, it raised in
him some suspicions not very advantageous to the honour of his master:
to these the dreadful idea he had of the masquerade, the disguise in
which his master had gone out and returned, and his having been abroad
all night, contributed. In plain language, the only way he could
possibly find to account for the possession of this note, was by
robbery: and, to confess the truth, the reader, unless he should
suspect it was owing to the generosity of Lady Bellaston, can hardly
imagine any other.
To clear, therefore, the honour of Mr Jones, and to do justice to the
liberality of the lady, he had really received this present from her,
who, though she did not give much into the hackney charities of the
age, such as building hospitals, &c., was not, however, entirely void
of that Christian virtue; and conceived (very rightly I think) that a
young fellow of merit, without a shilling in the world, was no
improper object of this virtue.
Mr Jones and Mr Nightingale had been invited to dine this day with Mrs
Miller. At the appointed hour, therefore, the two young gentlemen,
with the two girls, attended in the parlour, where they waited from
three till almost five before the good woman appeared. She had been
out of town to visit a relation, of whom, at her return, she gave the
following account.
“I hope, gentlemen, you will pardon my making you wait; I am sure if
you knew the occasion--I have been to see a cousin of mine, about six
miles off, who now lies in.--It should be a warning to all persons
(says she, looking at her daughters) how they marry indiscreetly.
There is no happiness in this world without a competency. O Nancy! how