 Section 60 of Tom Jones. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Anna Simon. Tom Jones by Henry Fielding. Book 17. Chapter 4. An Extraordinary Scene Between Sophia and Her Aunt. The lowing hyphal and the bleeding ew, in herds and flocks, may ramble safe and unregarded through the pastures. These are indeed hereafter doomed to be the prey of men, yet many years are they suffered to enjoy their liberty undisturbed. But if a plump doe be discovered to have escaped from the forest and to repose herself in some field or grove, the whole parish is presently alarmed. Every man is ready to set his dogs after her, and if she's preserved from the rest by the good squire, it is only that he may secure her for his own eating. I've often considered a very fine young woman of fortune and fashion when first found strayed from the pale of her nursery to be in pretty much the same situation with this doe. The town is immediately in an uproar. She is hunted from park to play, from court to assembly, from assembly to her own chamber, and rarely escapes a single season from the jaws of some devourer or other. For if her friends protect her from some, it is only to deliver her over to one of their own choosing, often more disagreeable to her than any of the rest. While whole herds or flocks of other women securely and scarce regarded traverse the park, the play, the opera and the assembly, and though for the most part at least they are at last devoured, yet for a long time do they wanton in liberty without disturbance or control. Of all these paragons none ever tasted more of this persecution than poor Sophia. Her ill stars were not contented with all that she had suffered on account of bliffle. They now raised her another pursuer, who seemed likely to torment her no less than the other had done. For though her aunt was less violent, she was no less assiduous in teasing her than her father had been before. The servants were no sooner departed after dinner than Mrs. Weston, who had opened the matter to Sophia, informed her that she expected his lordship that very afternoon and intended to take the first opportunity of leaving her alone with him. If you do, madam, answered Sophia, with some spirit, I shall take the first opportunity of leaving him by himself. How, madam, cries the aunt, is this the return you make me for my kindness in relieving you from your confinement at your father's? You know, madam, said Sophia, the cause of that confinement was a refusal to comply with my father in accepting a man I detested, and who my dear aunt, who had relieved me from that distress, involved me in another equally bad. And do you think, then, madam, answered Mrs. Weston, that there is no difference between my lord Falomar and Mr. Bliffle? Very little, in my opinion, cries Sophia, and if I must be condemned to one, I would certainly have the merit of sacrificing myself to my father's pleasure. Then my pleasure, I find, said the aunt, hath very little weight with you, but that consideration shall not move me. I act from nobler motives. The view of aggrandising my family, of ennobling yourself, is what I proceed upon. Have you no sense of ambition? Are there no charms in the thoughts of any coronet on your coach? None upon my honour, said Sophia. A pin-cushion upon my coach would please me just as well. Never mention honour, cries the aunt. It becomes not the mouth of such a wretch. I am sorry, niece, you force me to use these words, but I cannot bear your groveling temper. You have none of the blood of the Westons in you. But however mean and base your own ideas are, you shall bring no imputation of mine. I will never suffer the world to say of me that I encouraged you in refusing one of the best matches in England. A match which, besides its advantage and fortune, would do honour to almost any family and hath indeed entitle the advantage of ours. Surely, Sophia, I am born deficient and have not the senses with which other people are blessed. There must be certainly some sense which can relish the delights of sound and show which I have not. For surely mankind would not labour so much, nor sacrifice so much for the obtaining, nor would they be so elate and proud with possessing what appeared to them as a doth to me the most insignificant of all trifles. No, no, miss, cries the aunt. You are born with as many senses as other people. But I assure you, you are not born with a sufficient understanding to make a fool of me or to expose my conduct to the world. So I declare this to you upon my word, and you know I believe how fixed my resolutions are. Unless you agree to see his lordship this afternoon, I will, with my own hands, deliver you tomorrow morning to my brother and will never henceforth interfere with you, nor see your face again. Sophia stood a few moments silent after this speech, which was uttered in a most angry and peremptory tone, and then, bursting to tears, she cried, Do with me, madam, whatever you please, I am the most miserable, undone wretch upon earth. My dear aunt forsakes me, where shall I look for a protector? My dear niece, cries she, you will have a very good protector in his lordship, a protector whom nothing but a hankering after that vile fellow Jones can make you decline. Indeed, madam, said Sophia, you wrong me. How can you imagine, after what you have shown me, if I had ever any such thoughts, that I should not banish them forever? If it will satisfy you, I will receive the sacrament upon it, never to see his face again. But child, dear child, said the aunt, be reasonable, can you invent a single objection? I have already, I think, told you a sufficient objection, answered Sophia. What, cries the aunt, I remember none. Sure, madam, said Sophia, I told you he had used me in the rudest and vilest manner. Indeed, child, answered she, I never heard you or did not understand you, but what do you mean by this rude, vile manner? Indeed, madam, said Sophia, I am almost ashamed to tell you. He called me in his arms, pulled me down upon the satire, and thrust his hand into my bosom and kissed it with such violence that I have to mark upon my left breast at this moment. Indeed, said Mrs. Weston. Yes, indeed, madam, answered Sophia. My father luckily came in at that instant, or heaven knows what rudeness he intended to have proceeded to. I am astonished and confounded, cries the aunt. No woman of the name of Weston had been ever treated so since we were a family. I would have torn the eyes of her prince out if he had attempted such freedoms with me. It is impossible. Sure, Sophia, you must invent this to raise my indignation against him. I hope, madam, said Sophia, you have too good an opinion of me to imagine me capable of telling an untruth. Upon my soul it is true. I should have stepped him to the heart had I been present, returned the aunt. Yet surely he could have no dishonourable design. It is impossible. He durst not. Besides, his proposals show he hath not, for they are not only honourable but generous. I don't know. The age allows two great freedoms. A distant salute is all I would have allowed before the ceremony. I have had lovers formerly, not so long ago neither. Several lovers, though I never would consent to marriage and I never encouraged the least freedom. It is a foolish custom and what I never would agree to. No man kissed more of me than my cheek. It is as much as one can bring oneself to give lips up to a husband. And indeed could I ever have been persuaded to marry I believe I should not have soon been brought to endure so much. You will pardon me, dear madam, said Sophia, if I make one observation. You only have had many lovers and the world knows it, even if you should deny it. You refuse them all and I am convinced one corner at least among them. You say true, dear Sophie, answered she. I had once the offer of a title. Why then, said Sophia, will you not suffer me to refuse this once? It is true, child, said she. I have refused the offer of a title, but it was not so good an offer. That is, not so very, very good an offer. Yes, madam, said Sophia, but you have had very great proposals from men of vast fortunes. It was not the first, nor the second, nor the third advantageous match that offered itself. I own it was not, said she. Well, madam, continued Sophia, and why may not I expect to have a second perhaps better than this? You are now but a young woman and I am convinced would not promise to yield to the first lover of fortune, nay, or of title too. I am a very young woman and sure I need not despair. Well, my dear, dear Sophie, cries the aunt. What would you have me say? Why, I only beg that I may not be left alone at least this evening. Grant me that and I will submit if you think after what is passed I ought to see him in your company. Well, I will grant it, cries the aunt. Sophie, you know I love you and can deny you nothing. You know the easiness of my nature. I have not always been so easy. I have been formally thought cruel by the man I mean. I was called the cruel Parthenissa. I have broke many a window that has had verses to the cruel Parthenissa in it. Sophie, I was never so handsome as you and yet I had something of you formally. I am a little altered, kingdoms and states as Tully Cicero says in his epistles, and the go alterations, and so must the human form. Thus runs she on for near half an hour upon herself and her conquests and her cruelty till the arrival of my lord, who after a most tedious visit during which Mrs. Weston never once offered to leave the room, retired, not much more satisfied with the aunt than with the niece, for Sophie had brought her aunt into so excellent a temple that she consented to almost everything her niece said and agreed that a little distant behavior might not be improper to sow forward a lover. Thus Sophia, by a little well directed flattery for which surely none will blame her, obtained a little ease for herself and at least put off the evil day. And now we have seen our heroine in a better situation than she had been for a long time before. We will look a little after Mr. Jones, whom we left in the most deplorable situation that can be well imagined. Chapter 5 Mrs. Miller and Mr. Nightingale visit Jones in the prison. When Mr. Allworthy and his nephew went to meet Mr. Weston, Mrs. Miller set forwards to her son-in-law's lodgings in order to acquaint him with the accident which had befallen his friend Jones, but he had known it long before, from partage, for Jones, when he left Mrs. Miller, had been furnished with a room in the same house with Mr. Nightingale. The good woman found her daughter under great affliction on account of Mr. Jones, whom having comforted as well as she could, she set forwards to the gate-house, where she heard he was, and where Mr. Nightingale was arrived before her. The firmness and constancy of a true friend is a circumstance so extremely delightful to persons in any kind of distress that the distress itself, if it be only temporary and amidst of relief, is more than compensated by bringing this comfort with it. Nor are instances of this kind so rare as some superficial and inaccurate observers have reported. To say the truth, want of compassion, is not to be numbered among our general faults. The black ingredient which fowls our disposition is envy. Hence our eyes seldom, I am afraid, turned upward to those who are manifestly greater, better, wiser, or happier than ourselves, without some degree of malignity, while we commonly look downwards on the mean and miserable with sufficient benevolence and pity. In fact, I have remarked that most of the defects which have discovered themselves in the friendships within my observation have arisen from envy only, a hellish vice, and yet one from which I have known very few absolutely exempt. But enough of a subject which, if pursued, would lead me too far. Whether it was that fortune was apprehensive, lest Joan should sink under the weight of his adversity, and that she might thus lose any future opportunity of tormenting him, or whether she really abated somewhat of her severity towards him, she seemed a little to relax her persecution by sending him the company of two such faithful friends and what is perhaps more rare, a faithful servant. For Partridge, though he had many imperfections, wanted not fidelity, and though fear would not suffer him to be hanged for his master, yet the world, I believe, could not have bribed him to desert his cause. While Joan's was expressing great satisfaction in the presence of his friends, Partridge brought an account that Mr. Fitzpatrick was still alive, though the surgeon declared that he had very little hopes, upon which Joan's fetching a deep sigh, nightingale said to him, My dear Tom, why should you afflict yourself so upon an accident, which, whatever be the consequence, can be attended with no danger to you, and in which your conscience cannot accuse you of having been the least to blame? If the fellow should die, what have you done more than taken away the life of a ruffian in your own defence? So will the coroner's inquest certainly find it, and then you will be easily admitted to bail. And though you must undergo the form of a trial, yet it is a trial which many men would stand for you for a shilling. Come, come, Mr. Jones, says Mrs. Miller, cheer yourself up. I knew you could not be the aggressor, and so I told Mr. Allworthy, and so he shall acknowledge, too, before I have done with him. Jones gravely answered, that whatever might be his fate, he should always lament the having shed the blood of one of his fellow creatures, as one of the highest misfortunes which could have befallen him. Yet I have another misfortune of the tenderest kind. Oh, Mrs. Miller, I have lost what I helped most dear upon earth. That must be a mistress, said Mrs. Miller, but come, come, I know more than you imagine, for indeed, partridge have blabbed all, and I have heard more than you know. Matters go better, I promise you, than you think, and I would not give little sixpence for all the chance which he hath of the lady. Indeed, my dear friend, indeed," answered Jones, you are an entire stranger to the cause of my grief. If you was acquainted with the story, you would allow my case admitted of no comfort. I apprehend no danger from bliffle. I have undone myself. Don't despair, replied Mrs. Miller. You know not what a woman can do, and if anything be in my power, I promise you I will do it to serve you. It is my duty. My son, my dear Mr. Nightingale, who is so kind to tell me, he hath obligations to you on the same account, knows it is my duty. Shall I go to the lady myself? I will say anything to her you would have me say. Thou best of women, cried Jones, taking her by the hand. Talk not of obligations to me, but as you have been so kind to mention it, there is a favour which perhaps may be in your power. I see you are acquainted with the lady, how you came by your information I know not, who sits indeed very near my heart. If you could contrive to deliver this, giving her a paper from his pocket, I shall forever acknowledge your goodness. Give it me, said Mrs. Miller. If I see it not in her own possession before I sleep, may my next sleep be mine last. Comfort yourself, my good young man, be wise enough to take warning from past follies, and I warrant all shall be well, and I shall yet see you happy with the most charming young lady in the world, for I so hear from everyone she is. Believe me, madam, said he, I do not speak the common kind of one in my unhappy situation. Before this dreadful accident happened, I had resolved to quit a life of which I was become sensible of the wickedness as well as folly. I do assure you, notwithstanding the disturbances I have unfortunately occasioned in your house, for which I heartily ask your pardon, I am not an abandoned profligate. Though I have been hurried into vices, I do not approve of a vicious character, nor will I ever, from this moment, deserve it. Mrs. Miller expressed great satisfaction in these declarations, in the sincerity of which she averged she had an entire faith, and now the remainder of the conversation passed in the joint attempts of that good woman and Mr. Nightingale to cheer the dejected spirits of Mr. Jones, in which they so far succeeded as to leave him much better comforted and satisfied than they found him, to which happy alteration nothing so much contributed as the kind of the taking of Mrs. Miller to deliver his letter to Sophia, which she dispaired of finding any means to accomplish. For when Black George produced a last from Sophia, he informed Partridge that she had strictly charged him on pain of having it communicated to her father not to bring her any answer. He was, moreover, not a little pleased to find he had so warm an advocate to Mr. Allworthy himself in this good woman who was, in reality, one of the worthiest creatures in the world. After about an hour's visit from the lady, for Nightingale had been with him much longer, they both took their leave, promising to return to him soon, during which Mrs. Miller said she hoped to bring him some good news from his mistress, and Mr. Nightingale promised to inquire into the state of Mr. Fett's Patrick's wound, and likewise to find out some of the persons who were present at the recounter. The former of these went directly in quest of Sophia, whether we likewise shall now attend her. Chapter Six In which Mrs. Miller pays a visit to Sophia Actress to the young lady was by no means difficult, for, as she lived now on a perfect, friendly footing with her aunt, she was at full liberty to receive what visitance she pleased. Sophia was dressing when she was acquainted that there was a gentlewoman below to wait on her. As she was neither afraid nor ashamed to see any of her own sex, Mrs. Miller was immediately admitted. Curses and the usual ceremonials between women who are strangers to each other being passed, Sophia said, I have not the pleasure to know you, madam. No, madam, said Mrs. Miller, and I must beg pardon for intruding upon you, but when you know what has induced me to give you this trouble, I hope— Pray, what is your business, madam? said Sophia, with a little emotion. Madam, we are not alone, replied Mrs. Miller in a low voice. Go out, Betty, said Sophia. When Betty was departed, Mrs. Miller said, I was desired, madam, by a very unhappy young gentleman to deliver you this letter. Sophia changed colour when she saw the direction, well-knowing the hand, and after some hesitation, said, I could not conceive, madam, from your appearance that your business had been of such a nature. Whomever you brought this letter from, I shall not open it. I should be sorry to entertain an unjust suspicion of anyone, but you are an utter stranger to me. If you will have patience, madam, answered Mrs. Miller, I will acquaint you who I am, and how I came by that letter. I have no curiosity, madam, to know anything, cried Sophia, but I must insist on your delivering that letter back to the person who gave it to you. Mrs. Miller then fell upon her knees and in the most passionate terms implored her compassion, to which Sophia answered, Sure, madam, it is surprising you should be so very strongly interested in the behalf of this person. I would not think, madam. No, madam, says Mrs. Miller. You shall not think anything but the truth. I will tell you all, and you will not wonder that I am interested. He is the best-natured creature that ever was born." She then began and related the story of Mr. Anderson. After this she cried, This, madam, this is his goodness, but I have much more tender obligations to him. He hath preserved my child. Here, after shedding some tears, she related everything concerning that fact, suppressing only those circumstances which would have most reflected on her daughter and concluded with saying, Now, madam, you shall judge whether I can ever do enough for so kind, so good, so generous a young man, and Sure is the best and worthiest of all human beings. The alterations in the countenance of Sophia had hitherto been chiefly to her disadvantage and had inclined her complexion to too great pailness. But she now waxed redder, if possible, than for a million, and cried, I know not what to say. Certainly, what arises from gratitude cannot be blamed. But what service can my reading this letter do your friend, since I am resolved never? Mrs. Miller fell again to her entreaties and beg to be forgiven, but she could not, she said, carry it back. Well, madam, says Sophia, I cannot help it if you will force it upon me. Certainly you may leave it whether I will or know. What Sophia meant, or whether she meant anything, I will not presume to determine, but Mrs. Miller actually understood this as a hint, and presently laying the letter down on the table took her leave, having first backed permission to wait again on Sophia, which request had neither assent nor denial. The letter lay upon the table no longer than till Mrs. Miller was out of sight, for then Sophia opened and read it. This letter did very little service to his cause, for it consisted of little more than confessions of his own unworthiness and bitter lamentations of despair, together with the most solemn protestations of his unalterable fidelity to Sophia, of which he said he hoped to convince her if he had ever more the honour of being admitted to her presence, and that he could account for the letter to Lady Bellison in such a manner that, though it would not entitle him to her forgiveness, he hoped at least to obtain it from her mercy, and concluded with vowing that nothing was ever less in his thoughts than to marry Lady Bellison. Though Sophia read the letter twice over with great attention, his meaning still remained a riddle to her, nor could her invention suggest to her any means to excuse Jones. She certainly remained very angry with him, though indeed Lady Bellison took up so much of her resentment that her gentle mind had but little left to bestow on any other person. That lady was most unluckily to dine this very day where there aren't western, and in the afternoon they were all three by appointment to go together to the opera, and then to Lady Thomas Hatchett's drum. Sophia would have gladly been excused from all, but would not disoblige her aunt, and as to the arts of counterfeiting illness, she was so entirely estranger to them that it never once entered into her head. When she was dressed, therefore, down she went, resolved to encounter all the horrors of the day, and the most disagreeable one it proved, for Lady Bellison took every opportunity very civilly and slyly to insult her, to all which her rejection of spirits disabled her from making any return, and indeed to confess the truth she was at the very best but an indifferent mistress of her party. Another misfortune which befell poor Sophia was the company of Lord Falomar, whom she met at the opera, and who attended her to the drum, and though both places were too public to admit of any particularities, and she was farther relieved by the music at the one place and farther the other, she could not, however, enjoy herself in his company, for there is something of delicacy in women which will not suffer them to be even easy in the presence of a man whom they know to have pretensions to them, which they are disinclined to favour. Having in this chapter twice mentioned a drum, a word which at posterity it is hoped will not understand in the sense it is here applied, we shall, notwithstanding our present haste, stop a moment to describe the entertainment here meant, and the rather, as we can in a moment, describe it. A drum then is an assembly of well-dressed persons of both sexes, most of whom play at cards and the rest do nothing at all, while the mistress of the house performs the part of the landlady at an inn, and like the landlady of an inn prides herself in the number of our guests, though she doth not always, like her, get anything by it. No wonder then, as so much spirits must be required to support any vivacity in these scenes of dullness, that we hear persons of fashion eternally complaining of the want of them, a complaint confined entirely to upper life. How insupportable must we imagine this round of impersonance to have been to Sophia at this time, how difficult must she have found it to force the appearance of gaiety into her looks when her mind dictated nothing by the tenderest sorrow and when every thought was charged with tormenting ideas. Night, however, at last restored her to her pillow, where we will leave her to soothe her melancholy at least, though incapable we fear of rest, and shall pursue our history which, something whispers us, is now arrived at the eve of some great event. End of section 60 of Tom Jones Section 61 of Tom Jones This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org recording by Anna Simon. Tom Jones by Henry Fielding Book 17, Chapter 7 A Pathetic Scene Between Mr. Allworthy and Mrs. Miller Mrs. Miller had a long discourse with Mr. Allworthy at his return from dinner, in which he acquainted him with Jones's having unfortunately lost all which he was pleased to bestow on him at their separation and with the distresses to which that loss had subjected him of all which she had received a full account from the faithful retailer Partridge. She then explained the obligations she had to Jones, not that she was entirely explicit with regard to her daughter, for though she had the utmost confidence in Mr. Allworthy, and though there could be no hopes of keeping a fair secret which was unhappily known to more than half a dozen, yet she could not prevail with herself to mention those circumstances which reflected most on the chastity of poor Nancy, but smothered that part of her evidence as cautiously as if she had been before a judge, and the girl was now on her trial for the murder of her bastard. Allworthy said there were few characters so absolutely vicious as not to have the least mixture of good in them. However, says he, I cannot deny but that you have some obligations to the fellow, bad as he is, and I shall therefore excuse what hath passed already, but must insist you never mention his name to me more, for I promise you it was upon the fullest and plainest evidence that I resolved to take the measures I have taken. Well, sir, says she, I make of the least doubt, but time will show all matters in their true and natural colours, and that you'll be convinced this poor young man deserves better of you than some other folks that shall be nameless. Madam, cries Allworthy, a little ruffled, I will not hear any reflections on my nephew, and if ever you say a word more of that kind, I will depart from your house that instant. He is the worthiest and best of man, and I once more repeat it to you. He hath carried his friendship to this man to a blamable length by two long concealing facts of the blackest die. The ingratitude of the wretch to this good young man is what I most resent. For, Madam, I have the greatest reason to imagine he had laid a plot to supplant my nephew in my favour and to have disinherited him. I am sure, sir, answered Mrs. Miller, a little frightened, for, though Mr. Allworthy hath the utmost sweetness and benevolence in his smiles, he hath great terror in his frowns. I shall never speak against any gentleman you are pleased to think well of. I am sure, sir, such behaviour would very little become me, especially when the gentleman is your nearest relation. But, sir, you must not be angry with me. You must not, indeed, for my good wish is to this poor wretch. Sure, I may call him so now, though once you would have been angry with me if I had spoke of him with the least disrespect. How often have I heard you call him your son? How often have you preddled to me of him with all the fondness of a parent? Nay, sir, I cannot forget the many tender expressions, the many good things that you've told me of his beauty and his parts and his virtues, of his good nature and generosity. I am sure, sir, I cannot forget them, for I find them all true. I have experienced them in my own cause. They have preserved my family. You must pardon my tears, sir, indeed you must. When I consider the cruel reverse of fortune which this poor youth, to whom I am so much obliged, has suffered, when I consider the loss of your favour, which I know he valued more than his life, I must, I must lament him. If you had a dagger in your hand, ready to plunge into my heart, I must lament the misery of one whom you have loved, and I shall ever love. O worthy was pretty much moved with this speech, but it seemed not to be with anger, for after a short silence, taking Mrs. Miller by the hand, he said very affectionately to her, Come, madam, let us consider a little about your daughter. I cannot blame you for rejoicing in a match which promises to be advantageous to her, but you know this advantage, in a great measure, depends on the father's reconciliation. I know Mr. Nightingale very well, and I formerly had concerns with him. I will make him a visit, and endeavor to serve you in this matter. I believe he is a worldly man, but as this is an only son, and the thing is now irretrievable, perhaps you may in time be brought to reason. I promise you I will do all I can for you. Many were the acknowledgments which the poor woman made already for this kind and generous offer, nor could she refrain from taking this occasion again to express her gratitude towards Jones. To whom, said she, I owe the opportunity of giving you, sir, this present trouble. O worthy gently stops her, but it was too good a man to be really offended with the effects of so noble a principle as now actuated Mrs. Miller, and indeed, had not this new affair inflamed his former anger against Jones, it is possible he might have been a little softened towards him, by the report of an action which Malice itself could not have derived from an evil motive. Mr. O worthy and Mrs. Miller had been above an hour together when their conversation was put an end to by the arrival of Bliffle and another person, which other person was no less than Mr. Dowling, the attorney, who has now become a great favorite with Mr. Bliffle, and whom Mr. O worthy, at the desire of his nephew, had made his steward, and had likewise recommended him to Mr. Western, from whom the attorney received a promise of being promoted to the same office upon the first vacancy, and, in the meantime, was employed in transacting some affairs which the squire then had in London in relation to a mortgage. This was the principal affair which then brought Mr. Dowling to town, therefore he took the same opportunity to charge himself with some money from Mr. O worthy and to make a report to him of some other business. In all which, as it was of much too dull nature to find any place in this history, we will leave the uncle, nephew, and their lawyer concerned and resort to other matters. Chapter 8 Containing various matters Before we return to Jones, we will take one more view of Sophia. Though that young lady had brought her aunt into great good humor by those soothing methods which were before related, she had not brought her in the least to obeyed of her zeal for the match with Lord Falomar. This zeal was now inflamed by Lady Palestine, who had told her the preceding evening that she was well satisfied from the conduct of Sophia and from her carriage to his lordship that all delays would be dangerous and that the only way to succeed was to press the match forward with such rapidity that the young lady should have no time to reflect and be obliged to consent while she scarce knew what she did. In which manner, she said, one half the marriages among people of condition were brought about. A fact very probably true which I suppose is owing the mutual tenderness which afterwards exists among so many happy couples. A hint of the same kind was given by the same lady to Lord Falomar and both these so readily embrace the advice that the very next day was at his lordship's request appointed by Mrs. Weston for a private interview between the young parties. This was communicated to Sophia by her aunt and insisted upon in such high terms that after having urged everything she possibly could invent against it without the least effect she at last agreed to give the highest instance of complacence which any young lady can give and consented to see his lordship. As conversations of this kind afford no great entertainment we shall be excused from reciting the whole that part of this interview in which, after his lordship had made many declarations of the most pure and ardent passion to the silent blushing Sophia she at last collected all the spirits she could raise and with a trembling low voice said my lord, you must be yourself conscious whether your former behaviour to me had been consistent with the professions you now make is there? answered he no way by which I can atone for madness what I did I am afraid must have too plainly convinced you that the violence of love had deprived me of my senses indeed my lord said she it is in your power to give me a proof of an affection which I much rather wish to encourage and to which I should think myself more beholden name it madam said my lord very warmly my lord says she looking down upon her fan I know you must be sensible how uneasy this pretended passion of yours hath made me can you be so cruel to call it pretended? says he yes my lord answered Sophia all professions of love to those whom we persecute are most insulting pretenses this pursuit of yours is to me a most cruel persecution nay it is taking a most ungenerous advantage of my unhappy situation most lovely most adorable charmer do not accuse me of taking an ungenerous advantage while I have no thoughts but what are directed to your honour and interest and while I have no view no hope no ambition but to throw myself honour, fortune everything at your feet my lord says she it is that fortune and those honours which gave you the advantage of which I complain these are the charms which have seduced my relations but to me there are things indifferent if your lordship will merit my gratitude there is but one way pardon me divine creature there can be none all I can do for you is so matured you and will give me so much pleasure that there is no room for your gratitude indeed my lord answered she you may obtain my gratitude my good opinion every kind thought and wish which it is in my power to bestow nay you may obtain them with ease for sure to a generous mind it must be easy to grant my request let me beseech you then to seize a pursuit in which you can never have any success for your own sake as well as mine I entreat this favour for sure you are too noble to have any pleasure in tormenting an unhappy creature what can your lordship propose but uneasiness to yourself by a perseverance which upon my honour upon my soul cannot shall not prevail with me whatever distresses you may drive me to here my lord fetched a deep sigh and then said is it then madam that I am so unhappy to be the object of this like and scorn or will you pardon me if I suspect there is some other here he hesitated and Sophia answered with some spirit my lord I shall not be accountable to you for the reasons of my conduct I am obliged to your lordship for the generous offer you have made I own it is beyond either my desserts or expectations yet I hope my lord you will not insist on my reasons when I declare I cannot accept it perhaps my lord returned much to this which we do not perfectly understand and perhaps it could not all be strictly reconciled either to sense or grammar but he concluded his ranting speech with saying that if she had pre-engaged herself to any gentleman however unhappy it would make him he should think himself bound in honour to the cyst perhaps my lord laid too much emphasis on the word gentlemen for we cannot else well account for the indignation with which he seemed greatly to resent some affront he had given her while she was speaking with her voice more raised than usual Mrs. Weston came into the room the fire glaring in her cheeks and the flames bursting from her eyes I am ashamed says she my lord of the reception which you have met with I assure your lordship we are all sensible of the honour done us and I must tell you Mrs. Weston the family expected different behaviour from you here my lord interfered half of the young lady but to no purpose the aunt proceeded till Sophia pulled out her handkerchief threw herself into a chair and burst into a violent fit of tears the remainder of the conversation between Mrs. Weston and his lordship till the letter withdrew consisted of bitter lamentations on his side and on hers of the strongest assurances that her niece should and would consent to all he wished indeed my lord says she the girl had had a foolish education neither adapted to her fortune nor her family her father I am sorry to say it is to blame for everything the girl had silly country notions of bashfulness nothing else my lord upon my honour I am convinced she had a good understanding at the bottom and will be brought to reason this last speech was made in the absence of Sophia for she had some time before left the room with more appearance of passion than she had ever shown on any occasion and now his lordship after many expressions of thanks to Mrs. Weston many ardent professions of passion which nothing could conquer and many assurances of perseverance which Mrs. Weston highly encouraged took us leave for this time before we relayed what now passed between Mrs. Weston and Sophia it may be proper to mention an unfortunate accident which had happened and which had occasioned the return of Mrs. Weston with so much fury as we have seen the reader then must know that the maid who had present attended in Sophia was recommended by Lady Ballaston with whom she had lived for some time in the capacity of a comb brush she was a very sensible girl and had received the strictest instructions to watch her young lady very carefully these instructions we are sorry to say were communicated to her by Mrs. Honor into whose favour Lady Ballaston had now so ingratiated herself that the violent affection which the good waiting-woman had formally borne to Sophia was entirely obliterated by that great attachment which she had to her new mistress now when Mrs. Miller was departed Betty, for that was the name of the girl returning to her young lady found her very attentively engaged in reading a long letter and the visible emotions which she portrayed on that occasion might have well accounted for some suspicions which the girl entertained but indeed they had yet a stronger foundation for she had overheard the whole scene which passed between Sophia and Mrs. Miller Mrs. Weston was acquainted with all this matter by Betty who after receiving many commendations and some rewards for her fidelity was ordered that if the woman who brought the letter came again she should introduce her to Mrs. Weston herself unluckily Mrs. Miller returned at the very time when Sophia was engaged with his lordship Betty according to order sent her directly to the aunt who being mistress of so many circumstances relating to what had passed the day before easily imposed upon the poor woman to believe that Sophia had communicated the whole affair and so pumped everything out of her which she knew relating to the letter and relating to Jones this poor creature might indeed be called simplicity itself she was one of that order of mortals who were apt to believe everything which is said to them to whom nature had neither indulged the offensive nor defensive weapons of deceit and who are consequently liable to be imposed upon by any who will only be at the expense of a little falsehood for that purpose Mrs. Weston having drained Mrs. Miller of all she knew which indeed was but little but which was sufficient to make the aunt in fact a great deal dismissed her with assurances that Sophia would not see her that she would send no answer to the letter nor ever receive another nor did she suffer her to depart without a handsome lecture on the merits of an office to which she could afford no better name than that of procurers this discovery had greatly discomposed her temper when coming into the apartment next to that in which the lovers were she overheard Sophia very warmly protesting against his lordship's addresses in which the rage already kindled burst forth and she rushed in upon her knees in a most furious manner as we have already described together with what passed at that time till his lordship's departure no sooner was Lord Falomar gone than Mrs. Weston returned to Sophia whom she abraded in the most bitter terms for the ill you she had made of the confidence reposed in her and for her treachery in conversing with a man with whom she had offered but the day before to bind herself in the most solemn oath never more to have any conversation Sophia protested she had maintained no such conversation How, how, Mrs. Weston said the aunt will you deny you are receiving a letter from him yesterday A letter, madam, answered Sophia somewhat surprised It is not very well bred, Miss replies the aunt to repeat my words I say a letter and I insist upon your showing it me immediately I scorn a lie, madam said Sophia, I did receive a letter but it was without my desire and indeed I may say against my consent Indeed, indeed, Miss you ought to be ashamed of owning you had received it at all but where is the letter, for I will see it To this peremptory demand Sophia passed some time before she returned an answer and at last only excused herself by declaring she had not the letter in her pocket which was indeed true upon which her aunt, losing all manner of patience asked her niece this short question whether she would resolve to marry Lord Phelamar or no to which she received the strongest negative Mrs. Weston then replied with an oath or something very like one that she would early the next morning deliver her back into her father's hand Sophia then began to reason with her aunt in the following manner Why, madam, must I of necessity be forced to marry at all consider how cruel you would have thought it in your own case and how much kinder your parents were in leaving you to your liberty What have I done to forfeit this liberty I will never marry contrary to my father's consent nor without asking yours and when I ask the consent of either improperly it will be then time enough to force some other marriage upon me Can I bear to hear this Christ, Mrs. Weston from a girl who had now a letter from a murderer in a pocket I have no such letter, I promise you answer to Sophia and if he be a murderer he will soon be in no condition to give you any further disturbance How, Mrs. Weston, said the aunt have you the assurance to speak of him in this manner to own your affection for such a villain to my face Sure, madam, said Sophia you put a very strange construction on my words Indeed, Mrs. Weston, cried the lady I shall not bear this usage you have learned of your father this manner he had taught you to give me the lie he had totally ruined you by this false system of education and please, heaven, he shall have the comfort of his fruits for once more I declare to you that tomorrow morning I will carry you back I will withdraw all my forces from the field and remain henceforth like the wise king of Prussia in a state of perfect neutrality you are both too wise to be regulated by my measures so prepare yourself for tomorrow morning you shall evacuate this house Sophia remonstrated all she could but her aunt was deaf to all she said in this resolution therefore we must at present leave her and there seems to be no hopes of bringing her to change it Chapter 9 What Happened to Mr. Jones in the Prison Mr. Jones passed about 24 manically hours by himself unless when relieved by the company of Partridge before Mr. Nightingale returned not that this worthy young man had deserted or forgot his friend for indeed he had been much the greatest part of the time employed in his service he had heard upon inquiry that the only persons who had seen the beginning of the unfortunate encounter were a crew belonging to a man of war which then lay at Deatford to Deatford therefore he went in search of this crew where he was informed that the men he sought after were all gone ashore he then traced them from place to place till at last he found two of them drinking together with a third person at a hatch tavern near Aldersgate Nightingale desired to speak with Jones by himself for Partridge was in the room when he came in as soon as they were alone Nightingale taking Jones by the hand cried come my brave friend be not too much dejected at what I am going to tell you I am sorry I am the messenger of bad news but I think it my duty to tell you I guess already what that bad news is the poor gentleman then is dead I hope not he was alive this morning though I will not flatter you I fear from the accounts I could get that his wound is mortal but if the affair be exactly as you told it your own remorse would be all you would have reason to apprehend let what would happen but forgive me my dear Tom if I entreat you to make the worst of your story to your friends if you disguise anything to us you will only be an enemy to yourself what reason my dear Jack have I ever given you said Jones to stab me with so cruel a suspicion have patience Christ Nightingale and I would tell you all after the most diligent inquiry I could make I at last met with two of the fellows who are present at this unhappy accident and I am sorry to say they do not relate this story so much in your favor as you yourself have told it why what do they say Christ Jones indeed what I am sorry to repeat as I am afraid of the consequences of it to you they say that they were at too great a distance to overhear any words that pass between you but they both agree that the first blow was given by you then upon my soul answered Jones they injure me he not only struck me first but struck me without the least provocation what should induce those villains to accuse me falsely nay that I cannot guess Christ Nightingale and if you yourself and I who am so heartily your friend cannot conceive a reason why they should be lie you what reason will an indifferent court of justice be able to assign why they should not believe them I repeated the question to them several times and so did another gentleman who was present who I believe is a seafaring man and who really acted a very friendly part by you for he begged them often to consider that there was the life of a man in the case and asked them over and over if they were certain to which they both answered that they were and would abide by their evidence upon oath for heaven's sake my dear friend recollect yourself for if this should appear to be the fact it will be your business to think in time of making the best of your interest I would not shock you but you know I believe the severity of the law whatever verbal provocations may have been given you alas my friend Christ Jones must have such a wretch as I besides do you think I would even wish to live with the reputation of a murderer if I had any friends as alas I have none could I have the confidence to solicit them to speak in the behalf of a man condemned for the blackest crime in human nature believe me I have no such hope but I have some reliance on a throne still greatly superior which will I am certain afford me all the protection I merit he then concluded with many solemn environment processations of the truth of what he at first asserted the faith of nightingale was now against Taggart and began to incline to credit his friend when Mrs. Miller appeared and made a sorrowful report of the success of her embassy which when Jones had heard he cried out most heroically well my friend I am now indifferent as to what shall happen at least with regard to my life and if it be the will of heaven moment with that for the blood I have spilled I hope the divine goodness will one day suffer my honor to be cleared and that the words of a dying man at least will be believed so far as to justify his character a very mournful scene now passed between the prisoner and his friends at which as few readers would have been pleased to be present so few I believe will desire to hear it particularly related we will therefore pass on to the entrance of the turnkey who acquainted Jones that there was a lady without who desired to speak with him when he was at leisure Jones declared his surprise at this message he said he knew no lady in the world whom we could possibly expect to see there however as he saw no reason to decline seeing any person Mrs. Miller and Mr. Nightingale presently took their leave and he gave orders to have the lady admitted if Jones was surprised at the news of a visit from a lady how greatly was he astonished by the lady to be no other than Mrs. Waters in this astonishment then we shall leave him awhile in order to cure the surprise of the reader who will likewise probably not a little wonder at the arrival of this lady who this Mrs. Waters was the reader pretty well knows what she was he must be perfectly satisfied he will therefore be pleased to remember that this lady departed from Upton in the same coach with Mr. Fitzpatrick and the other Irish gentlemen and in their company traveled to Bath now there was a certain office in the gift of Mr. Fitzpatrick at that time vacant namely that of a wife for the lady who had lately filled that office had resigned or at least deserted her duty Mr. Fitzpatrick therefore having thoroughly examined Mrs. Waters on the road found her extremely fit for the place which on their arrival at Bath he presently conferred upon her and she without any scruple accepted as husband and wife this gentleman and lady continued together all the time they stayed at Bath and as husband and wife they arrived together in town whether Mr. Fitzpatrick was so wise a man as not to part with one good thing till he had secured another which he had at present only a prospect of regaining or whether Mrs. Waters had so well discharged her office that he intended still to retain her as principal and to make his wife as is often the case only her deputy I will not say but certainly it is he never mentioned his wife to her never communicated to her the letter given him by Mrs. Western nor even once hinted his purpose of repossessing his wife much less that he ever mentioned the name of Jones for though he intended to fight with him wherever he met him he did not imitate those prudent persons who think wife, a mother a sister or sometimes a whole family the safest seconds on these occasions the first account therefore which she had of all this was delivered to her from his lips after it was brought home for the tavern where his wound had been dressed as Mr. Fitzpatrick however had not the clearest way of telling a story at any time and was now perhaps a little more confused than usual it was some time before she discovered that the gentleman who had given him this wound was the very same person from whom her heart had received a wound which though not of a mortal kind was yet so deep that it had left a considerable scar behind it but no sooner was she acquainted that Mr. Jones himself was the man who had been committed to the gate house for this supposed murder then she took the first opportunity of committing Mr. Fitzpatrick to the care of his nurse and hastened the way to visit the conqueror she now entered the room with an air of gaiety which received an immediate check from the melancholy aspect of poor Jones who started and blessed himself when he saw her upon which she said I do not wonder at your surprise I believe you did not expect to see me for few gentlemen are troubled here with visits from any lady unless a wife you see the power you have over me Mr. Jones indeed I little thought when we parted at Upton that our next meeting would have been in such a place indeed madam I must look upon this visit as kind few will follow the miserable especially to such dismal habitations I protest Mr. Jones says she I can hardly persuade myself you are the same agreeable fellow I saw at Upton why your face is more miserable than any dungeon in the universe what can be the matter with you I thought madam said Jones as you knew of my being here you knew the unhappy reason pah! says she you've picked a man in a duel that's all Jones expressed some some indignation at this levity and spoke with the utmost contrition for what had happened to which she answered well then sir if you take it so much to heart I will relieve you the gentleman is not dead and I'm pretty confident is in no danger of dying the surgeon indeed who first dressed him was a young fellow and seemed as iris of representing his case to be as bad as possible that he might have the more honour from curing him but the king's surgeon had seen him since and says unless from a fever of which there are at present no symptoms he apprehends not the least danger of life Jones showed great satisfaction in his countenance at this report upon which he affirmed the truth of it, adding by the most extraordinary accident in the world I lodge at the same house and have seen the gentleman and I promise you he doth do justice and says whatever be the consequence that he was entirely the aggressor and that you was not in the least to blame Jones expressed the utmost satisfaction at the account which Mrs. Waters brought him he then informed her of many things which he well knew before as who Mr. Fitzpatrick was the occasion of his resentment etc he likewise told her several facts of which he was ignorant as the adventure of the Muff and other particulars concealing only the name of Sophia he then lamented the follies and vices of which he had been guilty every one of which he said had been attended with such ill consequences that he should be unpardonable if he did not take warning and quit those vicious causes for the future he lastly concluded with assuring her of his resolution to sin no more lest the worst thing should happen to him Mrs. Waters with great pleasantry ridiculed all this as the effects of low spirits and confinement she repeated some witticisms about the devil when he was sick and told him he doubted not but shortly to see him at liberty and as lively a fellow as ever and then, says she I don't question but your conscience will be safely delivered of all these qualms that it is now so sick and breeding many more things of this kind she uttered some of which it would do her no great honor in the opinion of some readers to remember nor are we quite certain but that the answers made by Jones would be treated with ridicule by others therefore suppressed the rest of this conversation and only observed that it ended at last with perfect innocence and much more to the satisfaction of Jones than of the lady for the former was greatly transported with the news she had brought him but the letter was not altogether so pleased with the penitential behavior of a man whom she had at her first interview conceived a very different opinion of from what she now entertained of him thus the melancholy occasioned by the report of Mr. Nightingale was pretty well faced but the dejection into which Mrs. Miller had thrown him still continued the account she gave so well tellied with the words of Sophia herself in our letter that he made not the least doubt but that she had disclosed his letter to her aunt and had taken a fixed resolution to abandon him the torments this thought gave him were to be equaled only by a piece of news which fortune had yet in store for him and which we shall communicate in the second chapter of the ensuing book end of book 17 section 62 of Tom Jones this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information not to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Anna Simon Tom Jones by Henry Fielding book 18 containing about six days chapter 1 a farewell to the reader we are now, reader, arrived at the last stage of our long journey as we have, therefore, travelled together through so many pages let us behave to one another like fellow travelers in a stagecoach who have passed several days in the company of each other and who, notwithstanding any bickering or little animosities which may have occurred on the road generally make all up at last and mount for the last time into their vehicle with cheerfulness and good humour since after this one stage it may possibly happen to us as it commonly happens to them never to meet more as I have here taken up this simile give me leave to carry it a little farther I intend then, in this last book to imitate the good company I've mentioned in their last journey now, it is well known that all jokes and railery are at this time late aside whatever characters any of the passengers have for the jests sake personated on the road are now thrown off and the conversation is usually plain and serious in the same manner if I have now and then in the course of this work indulged any pleasantry for their entertainment I shall here lay it down the variety of matter indeed which I shall be obliged to cram into this book will afford no room for any of those ludicrous observations which I have elsewhere made and which may sometimes perhaps have prevented thee from taking a nap when it was beginning to steal upon thee in this last book thou would find nothing or at most very little of that nature all will be plain narrative only and indeed when thou has perused the many great events which this book will produce thou would think the number of pages contained in it scares sufficient to tell the story and now, my friend I take this opportunity as I shall have no other of heartily wishing thee well if I've been an entertaining companion to thee I promise thee it is what I have desired if in anything I have offended it was really without any intention some things perhaps here said may have hit thee or thy friends but I do most solemnly declare that they were not pointed at thee or them I question not but thou has been told among other stories of me that thou was to travel with a very scurrilous fellow but whoever told thee so did me an injury no man detests and despises scurrility more than myself nor hath any man more reason for none hath ever been treated with more and what is a very severe fate I have had some of the abusive writings of those very men fathered upon me who in other of their works have abused me themselves with the utmost virulence all these works however I am well convinced will be dead long before this page shall offer itself to thy perusal however short the period may be of my own performances they will most probably outlive their own infirm author and the weekly productions of his abusive contemporaries Chapter 2 containing a very tragical incident while Jones was employed in those unpleasant meditations with which we left him tormenting himself Partridge came stumbling into the room with his face paler than ashes fixed in his head his hair standing an end and every limb trembling in short he looked as he would have done had he seen a spectre or had he indeed been a spectre himself Jones who was little subject to fear could not avoid being so much shocked at this sudden appearance he did indeed himself change colour and his voice a little faltered while he asked him what was the matter I hope so said Partridge you will not be angry with me indeed I did not listen but I was obliged to stay in the output room I am sure I wish I had been a hundred miles off rather than have heard what I have heard why what is the matter said Jones the matter sir oh good heaven answered Partridge was that woman who has just gone out the woman who is with you at Upton she was Partridge cried Jones and did you really sir said he trembling I am afraid what passed between us is no secret said Jones nay but pray sir for heaven's sake sir answer me Christ Partridge you know I did Christ Jones why then the Lord have mercy upon your soul and forgive you Christ Partridge but as sure as I stand here alive you have been a bed with your own mother upon these words Jones became a moment a greater picture of horror than Partridge himself he was indeed for sometimes struck dumb with amazement and both stood staring wildly at each other at last his words found way and in an interrupted voice he said how how what's this you tell me nay sir Christ Partridge I have not breath enough left to tell you now but what I've said is most certainly true that woman who now went out her own mother how unlucky was it for you sir that I did not happen to see her at that time to have prevented it sure the devil himself must have contrived to bring about this wickedness sure Christ Jones fortune will never have done with me till she had driven me to this traction but why do I blame fortune I am myself the cause of all my misery all the dreadful mischiefs which have befallen me are the consequences only of my own folly and vice what thou has told me Partridge had almost deprived me of my senses and was Mrs. Waters then but why do I ask for thou must certainly know her if thou hast any affection for me nay if thou hast any pity let me beseech thee to fetch this miserable woman back again to me how good heavens incest with a mother to what am I reserved he then fell into the most violent and frantic agonies of grief and despair in which Partridge declared he would not leave him but at last having vented the first torrent of passion he came a little to himself and then having acquainted Partridge that he would find this wretched woman in the same house where the wounded gentleman was lodged he dispatched him in quest of her if the reader were pleased to refresh his memory by turning to the scene at Upton in the Ninth Book he will be apt to admire the many strange accidents which unfortunately prevented any interview between Partridge and Mrs. Waters when she spent a whole day there with Mr. Jones instances of this kind we may frequently observe in life where the greatest events are produced by a nice train of little circumstances and more than one example of this may be discovered by the accurate eye in this our history after a fruitless search of two or three hours Partridge returned back to his master without having seen Mrs. Waters Jones who was in a state of desperation at his delay was almost raving mad when he brought him his account he was not long however in this condition before he received the following letter Sir, since I left you I have seen a gentleman from whom I have learned something concerning you which greatly surprises and affects me but as I have not at present ledgered to communicate a matter of such high importance you must suspend your curiosity till our next meeting which shall be the first moment I am able to see you oh Mr. Jones little did I think when I passed that happy day at Upton the reflection upon which is like to embitter all my future life who it was to whom I owed such perfect happiness believe me to be ever sincerely your unfortunate Jay Waters P.S. I would have you comfort yourself as much as possible for Mr. Fitzpatrick is in no manner of danger so that whatever other grievous crimes you may have to repent of the Guild of Blood is not among the number Jones having read the letter let it drop for he was unable to hold it and indeed had scarce the use of any one of his faculties Partridge took it up and having received consent by silence read it likewise nor had it upon him a less sensible effect the pencil and not the pen should describe the horrors which appeared in both their countenances after both remained speechless the turnkey entered the room and without taking any notice of what sufficiently discovered itself in the phases of them both acquainted Jones that a man without desire to speak with him this person was presently introduced and was no other than Black George as sites of horror were not so usual to George as they were to the turnkey he instantly saw the great disorder which appeared in the face of Jones which happened which was reported in the very worst light in Mr. Weston's family he concluded therefore that the gentleman was dead and that Mr. Jones was in a fair way of coming to a shameful end a thought which gave him much uneasiness for George was of a compassionate disposition and notwithstanding a small breach of friendship which he had been over tempted to commit was in the main not insensible of the obligations he had formally received from Mr. Jones the poor fellow therefore coming from a tear at the present site he told Jones he was heartily sorry for his misfortunes and begged him to consider if he could be of any manner of service perhaps sir said he you may want a little matter of money upon this occasion if you do sir what little I have is heartily at your service Jones shook him very heartily by the hand and gave him many things for the kind offer he had made but answered he had not the least want of that kind he began to press his services more eagerly than before Jones again thanked him with assurances that he wanted nothing which was in the power of any man living to give come come my good master answered George do not take the matter so much too hard things may end better than you imagine to be sure you ain't the first gentleman who had killed a man and yet come off you're wide of the matter George said Partridge the gentleman is not dead nor like to die by master at present for he's troubled about a matter in which it is not in your power to do him any good you don't know what I may be able to do Mr. Partridge answered George if his concern is about my young lady I have some news to tell my master what do you say Mr. George quite Jones had anything lately happened in which my Sophia is concerned my Sophia how dare such a wretch as I mention her so profanely I hope she'll be yours yet answered George why yes sir I have something to tell you about her Madam Weston had just brought Madam Sophia home and there had been a terrible to do I could not possibly learn the very right of it but my master he had been in a vast big passion and so was Madam Weston and I heard her say as she went out of doors into her chair that she would never set her foot in Master's house again I don't know what's the matter not I everything was very quiet when I came out but a robin who waited at supper said he had never seen this choir for a long while in such good humor with young Madam that he kissed her several times and swore she should be her own mistress and he never would think of confining her anymore I thought this news would please you and so I slipped out though it was so late to inform you of it Mr. Jones assured George that it did greatly please him for though he should never more presume to lift his eyes toward that comparable creature nothing could so much relieve his misery as a satisfaction he should always have in hearing of her welfare the rest of the conversation which passed at the visit is not important enough to be here related the reader will therefore forgive us this abrupt breaking off and be pleased to hear how this great good will of the squire towards his daughter was brought about Mrs. Weston on her first arrival at her brother's lodging began to set forth the great honours and advantages which would accrue to the family by the match with Lord Falomar which her niece had absolutely refused in which refusal when the squire took the part of his daughter she fell immediately into the most violent passion and so irritated and provoked the squire that neither his patients nor his prudence could bear it any longer upon which there ensued between them both so warm about at altercation that perhaps the regions of Billingsgate never equaled in the heat of this colding Mrs. Weston departed and had consequently no leisure to acquaint her brother with the letter which Sophia received which might have possibly produced ill effects but to say truth I believe it never once occurred to her memory at this time when Mrs. Weston was gone Sophia who'd been hitherto silent as well indeed from necessity as inclination began to return the compliment which her father had made her in taking her part against her aunt by taking his likewise against the lady this was the first time of her so doing and it was in the highest degree acceptable to the squire again he remembered that Mr. Orworthy had insisted on an entire relinquishment of all violent means and indeed as he made no doubt but that Jones would be hanged he did not in the least question succeeding with his daughter by fair means he now therefore once more gave a loose to his natural fondness for her which had such an effect on the dutiful, grateful, tender and affectionate heart of Sophia that had her honor given to Jones and something else perhaps in which he was concerned being removed I much doubt whether she would not have sacrificed herself to a man she did not like to have obliged her father she promised him she would make it the whole business of her life to oblige him and would never marry any man against his consent which brought the old man so near to his highest happiness that he was resolved to take the other step and went to bed completely drunk Chapter 3 Orworthy visits Old Nightingale with strange discovery that he made on that occasion the morning after these things had happened Mr. Orworthy went according to his promise to visit Old Nightingale with whom his authority was so great that after having sat with him three hours he had last prevailed with him to consent to see his son here an accident happened of a very extraordinary kind one indeed of those strange chances whence very good and grave men have concluded that providence often interposes in the discovery of the most secret villainy in order to caution men from quitting the paths of honesty however rarely they tread in those of vice Mr. Orworthy at his entrance into Mr. Nightingale's saw Black George in front of him nor did Black George imagine he had perceived him however when their conversation on the principal point was over all were they asked Nightingale whether he knew one George Seagram and upon what business he came to his house Yes answered Nightingale I know him very well and the most extraordinary fellow he is who in these days has been able to hold up 500 pounds from renting a very small state of 30 pounds a year this the story which he had told you cries Orworthy Nay it is true I promise you said Nightingale for I have the money now in my own hands in five bank bills which I am to lay out either in a mortgage or in some purchase in the north of England the bank bills were no sooner produced at Orworthy's desire that he blessed himself at the strangeness of the discovery he presently told Nightingale that these bank bills were formally his and then acquainted him with a whole affair as there are no men who complain more of the frauds of business than highwaymen, gamesters and other thieves of that kind so there are none who so bitterly exclaim against the frauds of gamesters etc as usurers brokers and other thieves of this kind whether it be that the one way of cheating is a discounted or reflection upon the other or that money which is the common mistress of all cheats makes them regard each other in the light of rivals Nightingale no sooner heard the story than he exclaimed against the fellow in terms much severer than the justice and honesty of Orworthy had bestowed on him Orworthy desired Nightingale to retain both the money and the secret till he should hear father from him and if he should in the meantime see the fellow that he would not take the least notice to him of the discovery which he had made he then returned to his lodgings where he found Mrs. Miller in a very dejected condition on account of the information she had received from her son-in-law Mr. Orworthy with great cheerfulness told her that he had much good news to communicate and with little further preface acquainted her that he had brought Mr. Nightingale to consent to see his son and did not in the least doubt to effect a perfect reconciliation between them though he found the father more soured by another accident of the same kind which had happened in his family he then mentioned the running away of the uncle's daughter which had been told by the old gentleman and which Mrs. Miller son-in-law did not yet know the reader may suppose Mrs. Miller received this account with great thankfulness and no less pleasure but so in common was her friendship to Jones that I am not certain whether the uneasiness she suffered for his sake did not overbalance her satisfaction at hearing a piece of news tending so much to the happiness of her own family nor whether even this very news as it reminded her of the obligations she had to Jones did not hurt as well as please her when her grateful heart said to her while my own family is happy how miserable is the poor creature to whose generosity we owe the beginning of all this happiness all worthy having left her a little while to chew the cut if I may use that expression on these first tidings told her he had still something more to impart which he believed would give her pleasure I think said he I have discovered a pretty considerable treasure belonging to the young gentleman your friend but perhaps indeed his present situation may be such that it will be of no service to him the letter part of the speech gave Mrs. Miller to understand who was meant and she answered with a sigh I hope not sir I hope so too cries all worthy with all my heart but my nephew told me this morning he'd heard a very bad account of the affair good heaven sir said she well I must not speak and yet it is certainly very hard to be obliged to hold one's tongue when one hears madam said all worthy you may say whatever you please you know me too well to think I have a prejudice against anyone and as for that young man I assure you I should be heartily pleased to find he could acquit himself of everything and particularly of this sad affair you can testify the affection I have formally borne him the old I know sendered me for loving him so much I did not withdraw that affection from him without thinking I had a justice cause believe me Mrs. Miller I should be glad to find I've been mistaken Mrs. Miller was going eagerly to reply when a servant acquainted her that a gentleman without desired to speak with her immediately all worthy then inquired for his nephew and was told that he'd been for some time in his room with the gentleman who used to come to him and whom Mr. Allworthy, guessing rightly to be Mr. Dowling he desired presently to speak with him when Dowling attended Allworthy put the case of the banknotes to him without mentioning any name and asked in what manner such a person might be punished to which Dowling answered he thought he might be indicted on the black act but said as it was a matter of some nicely it would be proper to go to council he said he was to attend the council presently upon an affair of Mr. Weston's and if Mr. Allworthy pleased he would lay the case before them this was agreed to and then Mrs. Miller opening the door cried I ask pardon I did not know you at company but Allworthy desired her to come in saying he had finished his business upon which Mr. Dowling withdrew and Mrs. Miller introduced Mr. Nightingale the Younger to return thanks for the great kindness done him by Allworthy but she had scarce patience to let the young gentleman finish his speech before she interrupted him saying oh sir Mr. Nightingale brings great news about poor Mr. Jones he had been to see the wounded gentleman who was out of all danger of death and what is more declares he fell upon poor Mr. Jones himself and beat him I'm sure sir you would not have Mr. Jones be a coward if I was a man myself I'm sure if any man was to strike me I should draw my sword do pray my dear tell Mr. Allworthy tell him all yourself Nightingale then confirmed what Mrs. Miller had said and concluded with many handsome things of Jones who was, he said, one of the best natured fellows in the world and not in the least inclined to be quarrelsome here Nightingale was going to seize when Mrs. Miller again begged him to relate all the many dutiful expressions he had heard him make use of towards Mr. Allworthy to say the utmost good of Mr. Allworthy Christ Nightingale is doing no more than strict justice and can have no merit in it but indeed I must say no man can be more sensible of the obligations he had to so good a man than his poor Jones indeed sir I'm convinced the weight of your displeasure is the heaviest burden he lies under he has often lamented it to me and hath as often protested in the most solemn manner he had never been intentionally guilty of any offence towards you nay, he had sworn he would rather die a thousand deaths than he would have his conscience upgrade him with one disrespectful, ungrateful or undutiful thought towards you but I ask pardon sir I'm afraid I presumed to intermeddle too far in so tender a point you spoke no more than what a Christian ought Christ Mrs. Miller indeed Mr. Nightingale answered Allworthy I applaud your generous friendship and I wish he may merit it of you I confess I am glad to hear the report you bring from this unfortunate gentleman and if that matter should turn out to be as you represented and indeed I doubt nothing of what you say I may perhaps in time be brought to think better than lately I have of this young man for this good gentlewoman here nay, all who know me can witness that I loved him as dearly as if he had been my own son indeed I have considered him as a child sent by fortune to my care I still remember the innocent the helpless situation in which I found him I feel the tender pressure of his little hands at this moment he was my darling indeed he was at which words he seized and the tears stood in his eyes as the answer which Mrs. Miller made may lead us into fresh matters we will here stop to account for the visible alteration in Mr. Allworthy's mind and the abatement of his anger to Jones revolutions of this kind it is true do frequently occur in histories and dramatic writers for no other reason than because the history or play draws to a conclusion and are justified by authority of authors yet though we insist upon as much authority as any other whatever which shall use his power very sparingly and never but when we are driven to it by necessity which we do not at present foresee will happen in this work this alteration then in the mind of Mr. Allworthy was occasioned by a letter he had just received from Mrs. Square and which we shall give the reader of the next chapter End of Section 62 Section 63 of Tom Jones this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Anna Simon Tom Jones by Henry Fielding Book 18 Chapter 4 containing two letters in very different styles my worthy friend I informed you in my last that I was forbidden the use of the waters as they were found by experience rather to increase than lessen the symptoms of my distemper I must now acquaint you with a piece of news which I believe will afflict my friends more than it had afflicted me Dr. Harrington and Dr. Brewster have informed me that there is no hopes of my recovery I have somewhere read that the great use of philosophy is to learn to die I will not therefore so far disgraze mine as to show any surprise at receiving a lesson which I must be thought to have so long studied yet to say the truth one page of the Gospel teaches this lesson better than all the volumes of ancient or modern philosophers the assurance it gives us of another life is a much stronger support to a good mind than all the consolations that are drawn from the necessity of nature the emptiness or satiety of our enjoyment here or any other topic of those declamations which are sometimes capable of arming our minds with a stubborn patience in bearing the thoughts of death but never of raising them to a real contempt of it and much less of making us think it is a real good I would not here be understood to throw the horrid center of atheism or even the absolute denial of immortality on all who are called philosophers many of that sect as well ancient modern have from the light of reason discovered some hopes of a future state but in reality that light was so faint and glimmering and the hopes were so uncertain and precarious that it may be justly doubted on which side their belief turned Plato himself concludes his phalan with declaring that his best arguments amount only to raise a probability and Cicero himself seems rather to profess an inclination to believe than any actual belief in the doctrines of immortality as to myself to be very sincere with you I never was much in earnest in this faith till I was in earnest a Christian you will perhaps wonder at the latter expression but I assure you it has not been till very lately that I could with truth call myself so the pride of philosophy had intoxicated my reason and the sublimest of all wisdom appeared to me as it did to the Greeks of foolishness God had however been so gracious to show me my error in time and to bring me into the way of truth before I sunk into utter darkness forever I find myself beginning to grow weak I shall therefore hasten to the main purpose of this letter when I reflect on the actions of my past life I know of nothing which sits heavier upon my conscience than the injustice I have been guilty of to that poor wretch your adopted son I have indeed not only connived the villainy of others but be myself active in injustice towards him believe me my dear friend when I tell you on the word of a dying man he hath been basely injured as to the principle fact upon the misrepresentation of which you discarded him I solemnly assure you he's innocent when you lay upon your supposed death bed he was the only person in the house who testified any real concern and what happened afterwards arose from the wildness of his joy on your recovery and I am sorry to say it from the baseness of another person but it is my desire to justify the innocent and to accuse none believe me my friend this young man had the noblest generosity of heart the most perfect capacity for friendship the highest integrity and indeed every virtue which can ennoble a man he hath some faults but among them is not to be numbered the least want of duty or gratitude towards you on the contrary I am satisfied when you dismissed him from your house his heart bled for you more than for himself worldly motives were the wicked and base reasons of my concealing this from you so long to reveal it now I can have no inducement but the desire of serving the cause of truth of doing right to the innocent and of making all the immense in my power for a past offence I hope this declaration therefore will have the effect desired and will restore this deserving young man to your favour the hearing of which while I am yet alive will afford the utmost consolation to sir your most obliged obedient humble servant Thomas Square the reader will after this scarce wonder at the revolution so visibly appearing in Mr. Orty notwithstanding he received from Tweckham by the same post another letter of a very different kind which we shall hear aired as it may possibly be the last time we shall have occasion to mention the name of the gentleman sir I am not at all surprised at hearing from your worthy nephew a fresh instance of the villainy of Mr. Square the atheist's young pupil I shall not wonder at any murders he may commit and I hardly pray that your own blood may not seal up his final commitment to the place of wailing and canashing of teeth though you cannot want sufficient calls to repentance for the many unwarrantable weaknesses exemplified in your behaviour to this wretch so much to the prejudice of your own lawful family and of your character I say though these may sufficiently be supposed to prick and go to your conscience at this season I should yet be wanting to my duty if I spare to give you some admonition in order to bring you to a due sense of your errors I therefore pray you seriously to consider the judgment which is likely to overtake this wicked villain and let it serve at least as a warning to you that you may not for the future despise the advice of one who is so indefatigable in his prayers for your welfare had not my hand been withheld from due correction I had scorched much of this diabolical spirit out of a boy of whom from his infancy I discovered the devil had taken such entire possession but reflections of this kind now come too late I am sorry you have given away the living of Westerton so hastily I should have applied on that occasion earlier had I thought you would not have acquainted me previous to the disposition your objection to pluralities is being righteous over much if there were any crime in the practice so many godly men would not agree to it if the vicar of Aldergrove should die as we hear he is in a declining way I hope you will think of me since I am certain you must be convinced of my most sincere attachment to your highest welfare a welfare to which all worldly considerations are as trifling as the small tides mentioned in scripture are when compared to the weighty matters of the law I am sir your faithful, humble servant Roger Thwackam this was the first time Thwackam ever wrote in this authoritative style to all worthy and of this hid afterwards sufficient reason to repent as in the case of those who mistake the highest degree of goodness for the lowest degree of weakness all worthy had indeed never liked this man he knew him to be proud and ill-natured he also knew that his divinity itself was tinctured with his temper and such as in many respects he himself did by no means approve but he was at the same time an excellent scholar and most indefatigable in teaching the two lands and to this the strict severity of his life and manners and unimpeached honesty and the most devout attachment to religion so that upon the whole though all worthy did not esteem nor love the man yet he could never bring himself to part with the tutor to the boys who was both by learning and industry extremely well qualified for his office and he hoped that as they were bred up in his own house and under his own eye he should be able to correct whatever was wrong in Thwackam's instructions Chapter 5 in which the history is continued Mr. Allworthy in his last speech had recollected some tender ideas concerning Jones which had brought tears into the good man's eyes this Mrs. Miller observing said Yes, yes sir, your goodness to this poor young man is known notwithstanding all your care to conceal it there is not a single syllable of truth in what those villains said Mr. Nightingale had now discovered the whole matter it seems these fellows were employed by a Lord who is a rival of poor Mr. Jones to have pressed him on board a ship I assure them I don't know who they were pressed next Mr. Nightingale here had seen the officer himself who is a very pretty gentleman and had told him all and is very sorry for what he undertook which he would never have done but he was told that he was a common strolling vagabond Allworthy stared at all this and declared he was a stranger to every word she said Yes sir, answered she I believe you are it is a very different story I believe from what those fellows told this lawyer What lawyer madam what is it you mean said Allworthy Nay, nay, said she this is so like you to deny your own goodness but Mr. Nightingale here saw him Saw whom madam answered he Why, you are a lawyer sir, said she that he is so kindly sent to inquire into the affair I am still under the dark upon my honour said Allworthy Why then do you tell him my dear sir, cried she Indeed sir, said Nightingale I did see that very lawyer who went from you when I came into the room at an ale house in Aldersgate in company with two of the fellows Lord Fellamar to press Mr. Jones and who are by that means present at the unhappy encounter between him and Mr. Fitzpatrick I own, sir, said Mrs. Miller when I saw this gentleman come into the room to you I told Mr. Nightingale that I apprehended you had sent him thither to inquire into the affair Allworthy showed marks of astonishment in his countenance at this news and was indeed for two or three minutes struck done by it addressing himself to Mr. Nightingale he said I must confess myself, sir more surprised at what you tell me than I have ever been before at anything in my whole life are you certain this was the gentleman I am most certain answered Nightingale at Aldersgate, cried Allworthy and was you in company with this lawyer and the two fellows I was, sir, said the other very near half an hour Well, sir, said Allworthy and in what manner did the lawyer behave did you hear all that pass between him and the fellows No, sir, answered Nightingale they had been together before I came in my presence the lawyer said little but after I had several times examined the fellows who persisted in a story directly contrary to what I had heard from Mr. Jones and which I find by Mr. Fitzpatrick was a rank falsehood the lawyer then desired the fellows to say nothing but what was the truth and seemed to speak so much in favour of Mr. Jones that when I saw the same person with you I concluded your goodness had prompted you to send him with either and did you not send him with either says Mrs. Miller indeed I did not answered Allworthy nor did I know he had gone on such an errand till this moment I see it all said Mrs. Miller upon my soul I see it all no wonder they have been closeted so close lately Sun Nightingale let me beg you run for these fellows immediately find them out if they are above ground I will go myself dear madam said Allworthy be patient and do me the favour to send a servant upstairs to call Mr. Dowling hither if he be in the house or if not Mr. Bliffle Mrs. Miller went out muttering something to herself and presently returned with an answer that Mr. Dowling was gone but that the daughter as she called him was coming Allworthy was of a cooler disposition than the good woman whose spirits were all up in arms in the cause of her friend he was not however without some suspicions which were near akin to hers when Bliffle came into the room he asked him with a very serious countenance and with a less friendly look than he had ever before given him whether he knew anything of Mr. Dowling's having seen any of the persons who were present at the duel between Jones and another gentleman there is nothing so dangerous as a question which comes by surprise on a man whose business it is to conceal truth or to defend falsehood for which reason those worthy personages whose noble office it is to save the lives of their fellow creatures at the old Bailey take the utmost care by frequent previous examination to divine every question which may be asked their clients on the day of trial that they may be supplied with proper and ready answers which the most fertile invention cannot supply in an instant besides the sudden and violent impulse on the blood occasioned by these surprises causes frequently such an alteration in the countenance that the man is obliged to give evidence against himself and such indeed were the alterations which the countenance of Bliffle underwent from this sudden question that we can scarce blame the eagerness of Mrs. Miller who immediately cried out guilty upon my honour guilty upon my soul Mr. Woodie sharply rebuked her for this impatiosity and then turned to Bliffle who seemed sinking into the earth he said why do you hesitate sir at giving me an answer you certainly must have employed him for he would not of his own accord I believe have undertaken such an errand and especially without acquainting me Bliffle then answered I own sir I've been guilty of an offence yet may I hope your pardon my pardon said Woodie very angrily nay sir answered Bliffle I knew you be offended it surely my dear uncle will forgive the effects of the most amiable of human weaknesses compassion for those who do not deserve it I own is a crime and yet it is a crime from which you yourself are not entirely free I know I've been guilty of it in more than one instance to this very person and I will own I did send Mr Dowling not on a vain and fruitless inquiry but to discover the witnesses and to endeavour to soften their evidence this sir is the truth which though I intended to conceal from you I will not deny I confess said Nightingale this is the light in which it appeared to me from the gentleman's behaviour now madam said Woodie I believe you once in your life own you have entertained a wrong suspicion and are not so angry with my nephew as you was Mrs Miller was silent for though she could not so easily be pleased with Bliffle whom she looked upon to have been the ruin of Jones yet in this particular instance he had imposed upon her as well as upon the rest so entirely had the devils to this friend and indeed I look upon the vulgar observation that the devil often deserts his friends and leaves them in the lurch to be a great abuse on that gentleman's character perhaps he may sometimes desert those who are only his cup of quintance or who at most are but half his but he generally stands by those who are thoroughly his servants and helps them off in all extremities till their bargain expires as a conquered rebellion strengthens a government or as health is more perfectly established by recovery from some diseases so anger when removed often gives new life to affection this was the case of Mr Orworthy for Bliffle having wiped off the greater suspicion the lesser which had been raised by Square's letter sunk of course and was forgotten and Thweckham with whom he was greatly offended bore alone all the reflections which Square had cast on the enemies of Jones as for that young man the resentment of Mr Orworthy began more and more to obey towards him he told Bliffle he did not only forgive the extraordinary efforts of his good nature but would give him the pleasure of following his example then turning to Mrs Miller with a smile which would have become an angel he cried what say you madam shall we take a Hackney coach and all of us together pay a visit to your friend I promise you it is not the first visit I have made in a prison every reader I believe will be able to answer for the worthy woman but they must have a great deal of good nature and be well acquainted with friendship who can feel what she felt on this occasion few I hope are capable of feeling what now passed in the mind of Bliffle but those who are will acknowledge that it was impossible for him to raise any objection to this visit Fortune however, or the gentleman lately mentioned above stood his friend and prevented his undergoing so great a shock for at the very instant when the coach was sentful Partridge arrived and having called Mrs Miller from the company acquainted her with a dreadful accident lately come to light and hearing Mr Orworthy's intention begged her to find some means of stopping him for says he the Mathemas that all hazards be kept a secret from him and if he should now go he'll find Mr Jones and his mother who arrived just as I left him lamenting over one another the horrid crime they've ignorantly committed the poor woman who was almost deprived of her senses at his dreadful news was nevertheless capable of an invention than at present however, as women are much readier at this than men, she be thought herself of an excuse and returning to Orworthy said I am sure sir, you'll be surprised at hearing any objection from me to the kind proposal you just now made and yet I am afraid of the consequence of it if carried immediately into execution you must imagine sir that all the calamities which have lately befallen this poor young fellow must have thrown him into the lowest ejection of spirits and now sir, should we all must suddenly fling him into such a violent fit of joy as I know your presence will occasion, it may I am afraid produce some fatal mischief especially as his servant who's without tells me he's very far from being well is a servant without? cries Orworthy, pray call him hither I will ask him some questions concerning his master Partridge was at first afraid to appear before Mr. Orworthy but was at length persuaded after Mrs. Miller who had often heard his whole story from his own mouth had promised to introduce him Orworthy recollected Partridge the moment he came into the room though many years had passed since he had seen him Mrs. Miller therefore might have spared her a formal oration in which indeed she was something prillics for the reader I believe may have observed already Mr. Orworthy had a tongue always ready for the service of her friends and are you? said Orworthy to Partridge, the servant of Mr. Jones I can't say sir, answered he that I am regularly a servant but I live with him and please run her at present, none some quality as your honor very well knows Mr. Orworthy then asked him many questions concerning Jones as to his health and other matters to all which Partridge answered without having the least regard to what was but considered only what he would have things appear for a strict adherence to truth was not among the articles of this honest fellow's morality or his religion during this dialogue Mr. Nightingill took his leave and presently after Mrs. Miller left the room when Orworthy likewise dispatched Liffle for he imagined that Partridge when alone with him would be more explicit than before company they were no sooner left him private together than Orworthy began as in the following chapter Chapter 6 in which the history is further continued Sure friend, said the good man you are the strangest of all human beings not only to have suffered as you have formally for obscenely persisting in a falsehood but to persist in it thus to the last and to pass thus upon the world for a servant of your own son what interest can you have in all this what can be your motive I see sir said Partridge falling down upon his knees that your honor is pre-possessed against me and resolve not to believe anything I say and therefore what signifies my protestations but yet there is one above who knows that I am not the father of this young man How, said Orworthy, will you yet deny what you was formally convicted of upon such an answerable such manifest evidence nay, what a confirmation is your being now found with this very man of all which twenty years ago appeared against you I thought you'd left the country nay, I thought you'd been long since dead in what manner did you know anything of this young man where did you meet with him unless you'd get some correspondence together do not deny this for I promise you it will greatly raise your son in my opinion to find that he had such a sense of filial duty as privately to support his father for so many years if your honor will have patience to hear me said Partridge I will tell you all being bid go on he proceeded thus when your honor conceived that displeasure against me it ended in my ruin soon after for I lost my little school and the minister thinking I suppose it would be agreeable to your honor turned me out from the office of Clark so that I had nothing to trust to but the barber's shop which in a country place like that is a poor livelihood and when my wife died for till that time I received a pension of 12 pounds a year from an unknown hand which indeed I believe was your honor's own for nobody that ever I heard of doth these things besides but as I was saying when she died this pension forsook me so that now as I owed two or three small debts which began to be troublesome to me particularly one which an attorney brought up all charges from 15 chillings to nearly 30 pounds and as I found all my usual means of living had forsook me I pegged up my little all as well as I could and went off footnote this is a fact which I knew happened to a poor clergyman in Dorsetshire by the villainy of an attorney who not contented with the exorbitant costs to which the poor man was put by a single action brought afterwards another action on the judgment as it was called a method frequently used to oppress the poor and bring money into the pockets of attorneys to the great scandal of the law of the nation of Christianity and even of the human nature itself and footnote the first place I came to was Salesbury where I got into the service of a gentleman belonging to the law and one of the best gentlemen that ever I knew for he was not only good to me but I knew a thousand good and charitable acts which he did while I stayed with him I have known him often refused business because it was poultry and oppressive you need not be so particular said all with you I know this gentleman and a very worthy man he is and an honour to his profession well sir continued partridge from hence I removed to Limington where I was above three years in the service of another lawyer who was likewise a very good sort of a man and to be sure one of the merriest gentlemen in England well sir at the end of the three years I set up a little school I was likely to do well again had it not been for a most unlucky accident here I kept a pig and one day as ill fortune would have it this pig broke out and did a trespass I think they called it in a garden belonging to one of my neighbours who was a proud or eventual man and employed a lawyer one I can't think of his name but he sent for a writ against me and had me to size me to hear what the councillor said there was one that told my lord a parcel of the confoundedest lies about me he said that I used to drive my hawks into other folk's gardens and a great deal more and at last he said he hoped I had at last brought my hawks to a fair market to be sure one would have thought that instead of being owner only of one poor little pig I had been the greatest hawk merchant in England well pray do not be so particular I have heard nothing of your son yet oh it was a great many years answered partridge before I saw my son as you are pleased to call him I went over to Ireland after this and taught school at Cork for that one suit ruined me again and I lay seven years in Winchester jail well said Oorthy pass that over till your return to England then sir said he it was about half a year ago that I landed at Bristol where I stayed some time and not finding a do there and hearing of a place between that and Gloucester where the barber was just dead I went thither and there I had been about two months when Mr Jones came thither he then gave Oorthy a very particular account of their first meeting and of everything as well as he could remember which had happened from that day to this frequently and alerting his story with penetrics on Jones and not forgetting to insinuate the great love that he had for Oorthy he concluded with saying now sir, I've told your honour the whole truth and then repeated a most solemn protestation that it was no more the father of Jones than of the Pope of Rome and implicated the most bitter curses on his head if he did not speak truth what am I to think of this matter cries Oorthy for what purpose should you so strongly deny a fact which I think it would be rather your interest to own nay sir, answered Partridge for he could hold no longer if your honour will not believe me you're alike soon to have satisfaction enough I wish you had mistaken the mother of this young man as well as you have his father and now being asked what he meant with all the symptoms of horror both in his voice and countenance he told Oorthy the whole story which he had a little before expressed such desire to Mrs Miller to conceal from him Oorthy was almost as much shocked at this discovery as Partridge himself had been while he related it good heavens says he in what miserable distresses devise an imprudence involve man how much beyond our designs are the effects of wickedness sometimes carried he had scarce uttered these words when Mrs Waters came hastily and abruptly into the room Partridge no sooner saw her than he cried here sir here is the very woman herself this is the unfortunate mother of Mrs Jones I am sure she will acquit me before your honour pray madam Mrs Waters without paying any regard to what Partridge said and almost without taking any notice of him advanced to Mr Oorthy I believe sir it is so long since I had the honour of seeing you do not recollect me indeed answered Oorthy you are so very much altered on many accounts that had not this man already acquainted me who you are I should not have immediately called you to my remembrance have you madam any particular business which brings you to me Oorthy spoke this with great reserve for the reader may easily believe he was not well pleased with the conduct of this lady neither with what he had formally heard nor with what Partridge had now delivered Mrs Waters answered indeed sir I have very particular business with you and it is such as I can impart only to yourself I must desire therefore the favour of a word with you alone for I assure you what I have to tell you is of the utmost importance Partridge was then ordered to withdraw but before he went he begged the lady to satisfy Mr Oorthy that he was perfectly innocent to which he answered you need be under no apprehension sir I shall satisfy Mr Oorthy very perfectly of that matter then Partridge withdrew and that passed between Mr Oorthy and Mrs Waters which is written in the next chapter end of section 63