History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
the rest of her family would rejoice.
But affairs were not in so quiet a situation in the bosom of the other
conspirator; his mind was tost in all the distracting anxiety so nobly
described by Shakespear--
“Between the acting of a dreadful thing,
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream;
The genius and the mortal instruments
Are then in council; and the state of man,
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
The nature of an insurrection.”----
Though the violence of his passion had made him eagerly embrace the
first hint of this design, especially as it came from a relation of
the lady, yet when that friend to reflection, a pillow, had placed the
action itself in all its natural black colours before his eyes, with
all the consequences which must, and those which might probably attend
it, his resolution began to abate, or rather indeed to go over to the
other side; and after a long conflict, which lasted a whole night,
between honour and appetite, the former at length prevailed, and he
determined to wait on Lady Bellaston, and to relinquish the design.
Lady Bellaston was in bed, though very late in the morning, and Sophia
sitting by her bed-side, when the servant acquainted her that Lord
Fellamar was below in the parlour; upon which her ladyship desired him
to stay, and that she would see him presently; but the servant was no
sooner departed than poor Sophia began to intreat her cousin not to
encourage the visits of that odious lord (so she called him, though a
little unjustly) upon her account. “I see his design,” said she; “for
he made downright love to me yesterday morning; but as I am resolved
never to admit it, I beg your ladyship not to leave us alone together
any more, and to order the servants that, if he enquires for me, I may
be always denied to him.”
“La! child,” says Lady Bellaston, “you country girls have nothing but
sweethearts in your head; you fancy every man who is civil to you is
making love. He is one of the most gallant young fellows about town,
and I am convinced means no more than a little gallantry. Make love to
you indeed! I wish with all my heart he would, and you must be an
arrant mad woman to refuse him.”
“But as I shall certainly be that mad woman,” cries Sophia, “I hope
his visits shall not be intruded upon me.”
“O child!” said Lady Bellaston, “you need not be so fearful; if you
resolve to run away with that Jones, I know no person who can hinder
you.”
“Upon my honour, madam,” cries Sophia, “your ladyship injures me. I
will never run away with any man; nor will I ever marry contrary to my
father's inclinations.”
“Well, Miss Western,” said the lady, “if you are not in a humour to
see company this morning, you may retire to your own apartment; for I
am not frightened at his lordship, and must send for him up into my
dressing-room.”
Sophia thanked her ladyship, and withdrew; and presently afterwards
Fellamar was admitted upstairs.
Chapter iv.
By which it will appear how dangerous an advocate a lady is when she
applies her eloquence to an ill purpose.
When Lady Bellaston heard the young lord's scruples, she treated them
with the same disdain with which one of those sages of the law, called
Newgate solicitors, treats the qualms of conscience in a young
witness. “My dear lord,” said she, “you certainly want a cordial. I
must send to Lady Edgely for one of her best drams. Fie upon it! have
more resolution. Are you frightened by the word rape? Or are you
apprehensive----? Well! if the story of Helen was modern, I should
think it unnatural. I mean the behaviour of Paris, not the fondness of
the lady; for all women love a man of spirit. There is another story
of the Sabine ladies--and that too, I thank heaven, is very antient.
Your lordship, perhaps, will admire my reading; but I think Mr Hook
tells us, they made tolerable good wives afterwards. I fancy few of my
married acquaintance were ravished by their husbands.” “Nay, dear Lady
Bellaston,” cried he, “don't ridicule me in this manner.” “Why, my
good lord,” answered she, “do you think any woman in England would not
laugh at you in her heart, whatever prudery she might wear in her
countenance?----You force me to use a strange kind of language, and to
betray my sex most abominably; but I am contented with knowing my
intentions are good, and that I am endeavouring to serve my cousin;
for I think you will make her a husband notwithstanding this; or, upon
my soul, I would not even persuade her to fling herself away upon an
empty title. She should not upbraid me hereafter with having lost a
man of spirit; for that his enemies allow this poor young fellow to
be.”
Let those who have had the satisfaction of hearing reflections of this
kind from a wife or a mistress, declare whether they are at all
sweetened by coming from a female tongue. Certain it is, they sunk
deeper into his lordship than anything which Demosthenes or Cicero
could have said on the occasion.
Lady Bellaston, perceiving she had fired the young lord's pride, began
now, like a true orator, to rouse other passions to its assistance.
“My lord,” says she, in a graver voice, “you will be pleased to
remember, you mentioned this matter to me first; for I would not
appear to you in the light of one who is endeavouring to put off my
cousin upon you. Fourscore thousand pounds do not stand in need of an
advocate to recommend them.” “Nor doth Miss Western,” said he,
“require any recommendation from her fortune; for, in my opinion, no
woman ever had half her charms.” “Yes, yes, my lord,” replied the
lady, looking in the glass, “there have been women with more than half
her charms, I assure you; not that I need lessen her on that account:
she is a most delicious girl, that's certain; and within these few
hours she will be in the arms of one, who surely doth not deserve her,
though I will give him his due, I believe he is truly a man of
spirit.”
“I hope so, madam,” said my lord; “though I must own he doth not
deserve her; for, unless heaven or your ladyship disappoint me, she
shall within that time be in mine.”
“Well spoken, my lord,” answered the lady; “I promise you no
disappointment shall happen from my side; and within this week I am
convinced I shall call your lordship my cousin in public.”
The remainder of this scene consisted entirely of raptures, excuses,
and compliments, very pleasant to have heard from the parties; but
rather dull when related at second hand. Here, therefore, we shall put
an end to this dialogue, and hasten to the fatal hour when everything
was prepared for the destruction of poor Sophia.
But this being the most tragical matter in our whole history, we shall
treat it in a chapter by itself.
Chapter v.
Containing some matters which may affect, and others which may
surprize, the reader.
The clock had now struck seven, and poor Sophia, alone and melancholy,
sat reading a tragedy. It was the Fatal Marriage; and she was now come
to that part where the poor distrest Isabella disposes of her
wedding-ring.
Here the book dropt from her hand, and a shower of tears ran down into
her bosom. In this situation she had continued a minute, when the door
opened, and in came Lord Fellamar. Sophia started from her chair at
his entrance; and his lordship advancing forwards, and making a low
bow, said, “I am afraid, Miss Western, I break in upon you abruptly.”
“Indeed, my lord,” says she, “I must own myself a little surprized at
this unexpected visit.” “If this visit be unexpected, madam,” answered
Lord Fellamar, “my eyes must have been very faithless interpreters of
my heart, when last I had the honour of seeing you; for surely you
could not otherwise have hoped to detain my heart in your possession,
without receiving a visit from its owner.” Sophia, confused as she
was, answered this bombast (and very properly I think) with a look of
inconceivable disdain. My lord then made another and a longer speech
of the same sort. Upon which Sophia, trembling, said, “Am I really to
conceive your lordship to be out of your senses? Sure, my lord, there
is no other excuse for such behaviour.” “I am, indeed, madam, in the
situation you suppose,” cries his lordship; “and sure you will pardon
the effects of a frenzy which you yourself have occasioned; for love
hath so totally deprived me of reason, that I am scarce accountable
for any of my actions.” “Upon my word, my lord,” said Sophia, “I
neither understand your words nor your behaviour.” “Suffer me then,
madam,” cries he, “at your feet to explain both, by laying open my
soul to you, and declaring that I doat on you to the highest degree of
distraction. O most adorable, most divine creature! what language can
express the sentiments of my heart?” “I do assure you, my lord,” said
Sophia, “I shall not stay to hear any more of this.” “Do not,” cries
he, “think of leaving me thus cruelly; could you know half the
torments which I feel, that tender bosom must pity what those eyes
have caused.” Then fetching a deep sigh, and laying hold of her hand,
he ran on for some minutes in a strain which would be little more
pleasing to the reader than it was to the lady; and at last concluded
with a declaration, “That if he was master of the world, he would lay
it at her feet.” Sophia then, forcibly pulling away her hand from his,
answered with much spirit, “I promise you, sir, your world and its
master I should spurn from me with equal contempt.” She then offered
to go; and Lord Fellamar, again laying hold of her hand, said, “Pardon
me, my beloved angel, freedoms which nothing but despair could have
tempted me to take.----Believe me, could I have had any hope that my
title and fortune, neither of them inconsiderable, unless when
compared with your worth, would have been accepted, I had, in the
humblest manner, presented them to your acceptance.----But I cannot
lose you.--By heaven, I will sooner part with my soul!--You are, you
must, you shall be only mine.” “My lord,” says she, “I intreat you to
desist from a vain pursuit; for, upon my honour, I will never hear you
on this subject. Let go my hand, my lord; for I am resolved to go from
you this moment; nor will I ever see you more.” “Then, madam,” cries
his lordship, “I must make the best use of this moment; for I cannot
live, nor will I live without you.”----“What do you mean, my lord?”
said Sophia; “I will raise the family.” “I have no fear, madam,”
answered he, “but of losing you, and that I am resolved to prevent,
the only way which despair points to me.”--He then caught her in his
arms: upon which she screamed so loud, that she must have alarmed some
one to her assistance, had not Lady Bellaston taken care to remove all
ears.
But a more lucky circumstance happened for poor Sophia; another noise
now broke forth, which almost drowned her cries; for now the whole
house rang with, “Where is she? D--n me, I'll unkennel her this
instant. Show me her chamber, I say. Where is my daughter? I know
she's in the house, and I'll see her if she's above-ground. Show me
where she is.”--At which last words the door flew open, and in came
Squire Western, with his parson and a set of myrmidons at his heels.
How miserable must have been the condition of poor Sophia, when the
enraged voice of her father was welcome to her ears! Welcome indeed it
was, and luckily did he come; for it was the only accident upon earth
which could have preserved the peace of her mind from being for ever
destroyed.
Sophia, notwithstanding her fright, presently knew her father's voice;
and his lordship, notwithstanding his passion, knew the voice of
reason, which peremptorily assured him, it was not now a time for the
perpetration of his villany. Hearing, therefore, the voice approach,