History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
sudden?”----“What blazing star, my lord?” said she, affecting a
surprize. “I mean,” said he, “the lady I saw here the other day, whom
I had last night in my arms at the playhouse, and to whom I have been
making that unreasonable visit.”----“O, my cousin Western!” said she;
“why, that blazing star, my lord, is the daughter of a country booby
squire, and hath been in town about a fortnight, for the first
time.”----“Upon my soul,” said he, “I should swear she had been bred
up in a court; for besides her beauty, I never saw anything so
genteel, so sensible, so polite.”----“O brave!” cries the lady, “my
cousin hath you, I find.”----“Upon my honour,” answered he, “I wish
she had; for I am in love with her to distraction.”----“Nay, my
lord,” said she, “it is not wishing yourself very ill neither, for
she is a very great fortune: I assure you she is an only child, and
her father's estate is a good £3000 a-year.” “Then I can assure you,
madam,” answered the lord, “I think her the best match in England.”
“Indeed, my lord,” replied she, “if you like her, I heartily wish you
had her.” “If you think so kindly of me, madam,” said he, “as she is
a relation of yours, will you do me the honour to propose it to her
father?” “And are you really then in earnest?” cries the lady, with
an affected gravity. “I hope, madam,” answered he, “you have a better
opinion of me, than to imagine I would jest with your ladyship in an
affair of this kind.” “Indeed, then,” said the lady, “I will most
readily propose your lordship to her father; and I can, I believe,
assure you of his joyful acceptance of the proposal; but there is a
bar, which I am almost ashamed to mention; and yet it is one you will
never be able to conquer. You have a rival, my lord, and a rival who,
though I blush to name him, neither you, nor all the world, will ever
be able to conquer.” “Upon my word, Lady Bellaston,” cries he, “you
have struck a damp to my heart, which hath almost deprived me of
being.” “Fie, my lord,” said she, “I should rather hope I had struck
fire into you. A lover, and talk of damps in your heart! I rather
imagined you would have asked your rival's name, that you might have
immediately entered the lists with him.” “I promise you, madam,”
answered he, “there are very few things I would not undertake for
your charming cousin; but pray, who is this happy man?”--“Why, he
is,” said she, “what I am sorry to say most happy men with us are,
one of the lowest fellows in the world. He is a beggar, a bastard, a
foundling, a fellow in meaner circumstances than one of your
lordship's footmen.” “And is it possible,” cried he, “that a young
creature with such perfections should think of bestowing herself so
unworthily?” “Alas! my lord,” answered she, “consider the
country--the bane of all young women is the country. There they learn
a set of romantic notions of love, and I know not what folly, which
this town and good company can scarce eradicate in a whole winter.”
“Indeed, madam,” replied my lord, “your cousin is of too immense a
value to be thrown away; such ruin as this must be prevented.”
“Alas!” cries she, “my lord, how can it be prevented? The family have
already done all in their power; but the girl is, I think,
intoxicated, and nothing less than ruin will content her. And to deal
more openly with you, I expect every day to hear she is run away with
him.” “What you tell me, Lady Bellaston,” answered his lordship,
“affects me most tenderly, and only raises my compassion, instead of
lessening my adoration of your cousin. Some means must be found to
preserve so inestimable a jewel. Hath your ladyship endeavoured to
reason with her?” Here the lady affected a laugh, and cried, “My dear
lord, sure you know us better than to talk of reasoning a young woman
out of her inclinations? These inestimable jewels are as deaf as the
jewels they wear: time, my lord, time is the only medicine to cure
their folly; but this is a medicine which I am certain she will not
take; nay, I live in hourly horrors on her account. In short, nothing
but violent methods will do.” “What is to be done?” cries my lord;
“what methods are to be taken?--Is there any method upon earth?--Oh!
Lady Bellaston! there is nothing which I would not undertake for such
a reward.”----“I really know not,” answered the lady, after a pause;
and then pausing again, she cried out--“Upon my soul, I am at my
wit's end on this girl's account.--If she can be preserved, something
must be done immediately; and, as I say, nothing but violent methods
will do.----If your lordship hath really this attachment to my cousin
(and to do her justice, except in this silly inclination, of which
she will soon see her folly, she is every way deserving), I think
there may be one way, indeed, it is a very disagreeable one, and what
I am almost afraid to think of.--It requires a great spirit, I
promise you.” “I am not conscious, madam,” said he, “of any defect
there; nor am I, I hope, suspected of any such. It must be an
egregious defect indeed, which could make me backward on this
occasion.” “Nay, my lord,” answered she, “I am so far from doubting
you, I am much more inclined to doubt my own courage; for I must run
a monstrous risque. In short, I must place such a confidence in your
honour as a wise woman will scarce ever place in a man on any
consideration.” In this point likewise my lord very well satisfied
her; for his reputation was extremely clear, and common fame did him
no more than justice, in speaking well of him. “Well, then,” said
she, “my lord,--I--I vow, I can't bear the apprehension of it.--No,
it must not be.----At least every other method shall be tried. Can
you get rid of your engagements, and dine here to-day? Your lordship
will have an opportunity of seeing a little more of Miss Western.--I
promise you we have no time to lose. Here will be nobody but Lady
Betty, and Miss Eagle, and Colonel Hampsted, and Tom Edwards; they
will all go soon--and I shall be at home to nobody. Then your
lordship may be a little more explicit. Nay, I will contrive some
method to convince you of her attachment to this fellow.” My lord
made proper compliments, accepted the invitation, and then they
parted to dress, it being now past three in the morning, or to reckon
by the old style, in the afternoon.
Chapter iii.
A further explanation of the foregoing design.
Though the reader may have long since concluded Lady Bellaston to be a
member (and no inconsiderable one) of the great world; she was in
reality a very considerable member of the little world; by which
appellation was distinguished a very worthy and honourable society
which not long since flourished in this kingdom.
Among other good principles upon which this society was founded, there
was one very remarkable; for, as it was a rule of an honourable club
of heroes, who assembled at the close of the late war, that all the
members should every day fight once at least; so 'twas in this, that
every member should, within the twenty-four hours, tell at least one
merry fib, which was to be propagated by all the brethren and
sisterhood.
Many idle stories were told about this society, which from a certain
quality may be, perhaps not unjustly, supposed to have come from the
society themselves. As, that the devil was the president; and that he
sat in person in an elbow-chair at the upper end of the table; but,
upon very strict enquiry, I find there is not the least truth in any
of those tales, and that the assembly consisted in reality of a set of
very good sort of people, and the fibs which they propagated were of a
harmless kind, and tended only to produce mirth and good humour.
Edwards was likewise a member of this comical society. To him
therefore Lady Bellaston applied as a proper instrument for her
purpose, and furnished him with a fib, which he was to vent whenever
the lady gave him her cue; and this was not to be till the evening,
when all the company but Lord Fellamar and himself were gone, and
while they were engaged in a rubber at whist.
To this time then, which was between seven and eight in the evening,
we will convey our reader; when Lady Bellaston, Lord Fellamar, Miss
Western, and Tom, being engaged at whist, and in the last game of
their rubbers, Tom received his cue from Lady Bellaston, which was, “I
protest, Tom, you are grown intolerable lately; you used to tell us
all the news of the town, and now you know no more of the world than
if you lived out of it.”
Mr Edwards then began as follows: “The fault is not mine, madam: it
lies in the dulness of the age, that doth nothing worth talking
of.----O la! though now I think on't there hath a terrible accident
befallen poor Colonel Wilcox.----Poor Ned.----You know him, my lord,
everybody knows him; faith! I am very much concerned for him.”
“What is it, pray?” says Lady Bellaston.
“Why, he hath killed a man this morning in a duel, that's all.”
His lordship, who was not in the secret, asked gravely, whom he had
killed? To which Edwards answered, “A young fellow we none of us know;
a Somersetshire lad just came to town, one Jones his name is; a near
relation of one Mr Allworthy, of whom your lordship I believe hath
heard. I saw the lad lie dead in a coffee-house.--Upon my soul, he is
one of the finest corpses I ever saw in my life!”
Sophia, who had just began to deal as Tom had mentioned that a man was
killed, stopt her hand, and listened with attention (for all stories
of that kind affected her), but no sooner had he arrived at the latter
part of the story than she began to deal again; and having dealt three
cards to one, and seven to another, and ten to a third, at last dropt
the rest from her hand, and fell back in her chair.
The company behaved as usually on these occasions. The usual
disturbance ensued, the usual assistance was summoned, and Sophia at
last, as it is usual, returned again to life, and was soon after, at
her earnest desire, led to her own apartment; where, at my lord's
request, Lady Bellaston acquainted her with the truth, attempted to
carry it off as a jest of her own, and comforted her with repeated
assurances, that neither his lordship nor Tom, though she had taught
him the story, were in the true secret of the affair.
There was no farther evidence necessary to convince Lord Fellamar how
justly the case had been represented to him by Lady Bellaston; and
now, at her return into the room, a scheme was laid between these two
noble persons, which, though it appeared in no very heinous light to
his lordship (as he faithfully promised, and faithfully resolved too,
to make the lady all the subsequent amends in his power by marriage),
yet many of our readers, we doubt not, will see with just detestation.
The next evening at seven was appointed for the fatal purpose, when
Lady Bellaston undertook that Sophia should be alone, and his lordship
should be introduced to her. The whole family were to be regulated for
the purpose, most of the servants despatched out of the house; and for
Mrs Honour, who, to prevent suspicion, was to be left with her
mistress till his lordship's arrival, Lady Bellaston herself was to
engage her in an apartment as distant as possible from the scene of
the intended mischief, and out of the hearing of Sophia.
Matters being thus agreed on, his lordship took his leave, and her
ladyship retired to rest, highly pleased with a project, of which she
had no reason to doubt the success, and which promised so effectually
to remove Sophia from being any further obstruction to her amour with
Jones, by a means of which she should never appear to be guilty, even
if the fact appeared to the world; but this she made no doubt of
preventing by huddling up a marriage, to which she thought the
ravished Sophia would easily be brought to consent, and at which all