The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling, Henry Fielding [best ereader under 100 TXT] 📗

sir; you are deceived,” said Sophia. “I hope not by him. It is sufficient to have deceived me. Mr. Allworthy, I must insist on being pressed no farther on this subject. I should be sorry⁠—nay, I will not injure him in your favour. I wish Mr. Jones very well. I sincerely wish him well; and I repeat it again to you, whatever demerit he may have to me, I am certain he hath many good qualities. I do not disown my former thoughts; but nothing can ever recall them. At present there is not a man upon earth whom I would more resolutely reject than Mr. Jones; nor would the addresses of Mr. Blifil himself be less agreeable to me.”

Western had been long impatient for the event of this conference, and was just now arrived at the door to listen; when, having heard the last sentiments of his daughter’s heart, he lost all temper, and, bursting open the door in a rage, cried out⁠—“It is a lie! It is a d⁠⸺⁠n’d lie! It is all owing to that d⁠⸺⁠n’d rascal Jones; and if she could get at un, she’d ha un any hour of the day.” Here Allworthy interposed, and addressing himself to the squire with some anger in his look, he said, “Mr. Western, you have not kept your word with me. You promised to abstain from all violence.”⁠—“Why, so I did,” cries Western, “as long as it was possible; but to hear a wench telling such confounded lies⁠—Zounds! doth she think, if she can make vools of other volk, she can make one of me?⁠—No, no, I know her better than thee dost.”⁠—“I am sorry to tell you, sir,” answered Allworthy, “it doth not appear, by your behaviour to this young lady, that you know her at all. I ask pardon for what I say: but I think our intimacy, your own desires, and the occasion justify me. She is your daughter, Mr. Western, and I think she doth honour to your name. If I was capable of envy, I should sooner envy you on this account than any other man whatever.”⁠—“Od-rabbit it!” cries the squire, “I wish she was thine, with all my heart⁠—wouldst soon be glad to be rid of the trouble o’ her.”⁠—“Indeed, my good friend,” answered Allworthy, “you yourself are the cause of all the trouble you complain of. Place that confidence in the young lady which she so well deserves, and I am certain you will be the happiest father on earth.”⁠—“I confidence in her?” cries the squire. “ ’Sblood! what confidence can I place in her, when she won’t do as I would ha’ her? Let her gi’ but her consent to marry as I would ha’ her, and I’ll place as much confidence in her as wouldst ha’ me.”⁠—“You have no right, neighbour,” answered Allworthy, “to insist on any such consent. A negative voice your daughter allows you, and God and nature have thought proper to allow you no more.”⁠—“A negative voice!” cries the squire⁠—“Ay! ay! I’ll show you what a negative voice I ha.⁠—Go along, go into your chamber, go, you stubborn⁠—.” “Indeed, Mr. Western,” said Allworthy, “indeed you use her cruelly⁠—I cannot bear to see this⁠—you shall, you must behave to her in a kinder manner. She deserves the best of treatment.”⁠—“Yes, yes,” said the squire, “I know what she deserves: now she’s gone, I’ll show you what she deserves. See here, sir, here is a letter from my cousin, my Lady Bellaston, in which she is so kind to gi’ me to understand that the fellow is got out of prison again; and here she advises me to take all the care I can o’ the wench. Odzookers! neighbour Allworthy, you don’t know what it is to govern a daughter.”

The squire ended his speech with some compliments to his own sagacity; and then Allworthy, after a formal preface, acquainted him with the whole discovery which he had made concerning Jones, with his anger to Blifil, and with every particular which hath been disclosed to the reader in the preceding chapters.

Men over-violent in their dispositions are, for the most part, as changeable in them. No sooner then was Western informed of Mr. Allworthy’s intention to make Jones his heir, than he joined heartily with the uncle in every commendation of the nephew, and became as eager for her marriage with Jones as he had before been to couple her to Blifil.

Here Mr. Allworthy was again forced to interpose, and to relate what had passed between him and Sophia, at which he testified great surprise.

The squire was silent a moment, and looked wild with astonishment at this account.⁠—At last he cried out, “Why, what can be the meaning of this, neighbour Allworthy? Vond o’ un she was, that I’ll be sworn to.⁠—Odzookers! I have hit o’t. As sure as a gun I have hit o’ the very right o’t. It’s all along o’ zister. The girl hath got a hankering after this son of a whore of a lord. I vound ’em together at my cousin my Lady Bellaston’s. He hath turned the head o’ her, that’s certain⁠—but d⁠⸺⁠n me if he shall ha her⁠—I’ll ha’ no lords nor courtiers in my vamily.”

Allworthy now made a long speech, in which he repeated his resolution to avoid all violent measures, and very earnestly recommended gentle methods to Mr. Western, as those by which he might be assured of succeeding best with his daughter. He then took his leave, and returned back to Mrs. Miller, but was forced to comply with the earnest entreaties of the squire, in promising to bring Mr. Jones to visit him that afternoon, that he might, as he said, “make all matters up with the young gentleman.” At Mr. Allworthy’s departure, Western promised to follow his advice in his behaviour to Sophia, saying, “I don’t know how ’tis, but d⁠⸺⁠n me, Allworthy, if you don’t make me always do just as you please; and yet I have as good an estate as you, and am in the commission of the peace