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

unutterable grief, presented a spectacle which must have affected almost the hardest heart.

All this tender sorrow, however, raised no compassion in her aunt. On the contrary, she now fell into the most violent rage.⁠—“And I would rather,” she cried, in a most vehement voice, “follow you to your grave, than I would see you disgrace yourself and your family by such a match. O Heavens! could I have ever suspected that I should live to hear a niece of mine declare a passion for such a fellow? You are the first⁠—yes, Miss Western, you are the first of your name who ever entertained so grovelling a thought. A family so noted for the prudence of its women”⁠—here she ran on a full quarter of an hour, till, having exhausted her breath rather than her rage, she concluded with threatening to go immediately and acquaint her brother.

Sophia then threw herself at her feet, and laying hold of her hands, begged her with tears to conceal what she had drawn from her; urging the violence of her father’s temper, and protesting that no inclinations of hers should ever prevail with her to do anything which might offend him.

Mrs. Western stood a moment looking at her, and then, having recollected herself, said, “That on one consideration only she would keep the secret from her brother; and this was, that Sophia should promise to entertain Mr. Blifil that very afternoon as her lover, and to regard him as the person who was to be her husband.”

Poor Sophia was too much in her aunt’s power to deny her anything positively; she was obliged to promise that she would see Mr. Blifil, and be as civil to him as possible; but begged her aunt that the match might not be hurried on. She said, “Mr. Blifil was by no means agreeable to her, and she hoped her father would be prevailed on not to make her the most wretched of women.”

Mrs. Western assured her, “That the match was entirely agreed upon, and that nothing could or should prevent it. I must own,” said she, “I looked on it as on a matter of indifference; nay, perhaps, had some scruples about it before, which were actually got over by my thinking it highly agreeable to your own inclinations; but now I regard it as the most eligible thing in the world: nor shall there be, if I can prevent it, a moment of time lost on the occasion.”

Sophia replied, “Delay at least, madam, I may expect from both your goodness and my father’s. Surely you will give me time to endeavour to get the better of so strong a disinclination as I have at present to this person.”

The aunt answered, “She knew too much of the world to be so deceived; that as she was sensible another man had her affections, she should persuade Mr. Western to hasten the match as much as possible. It would be bad politics, indeed,” added she, “to protract a siege when the enemy’s army is at hand, and in danger of relieving it. No, no, Sophy,” said she, “as I am convinced you have a violent passion which you can never satisfy with honour, I will do all I can to put your honour out of the care of your family: for when you are married those matters will belong only to the consideration of your husband. I hope, child, you will always have prudence enough to act as becomes you; but if you should not, marriage hath saved many a woman from ruin.”

Sophia well understood what her aunt meant; but did not think proper to make her an answer. However, she took a resolution to see Mr. Blifil, and to behave to him as civilly as she could, for on that condition only she obtained a promise from her aunt to keep secret the liking which her ill fortune, rather than any scheme of Mrs. Western, had unhappily drawn from her.

VI

Containing a dialogue between Sophia and Mrs. Honour, which may a little relieve those tender affections which the foregoing scene may have raised in the mind of a good-natured reader.

Mrs. Western having obtained that promise from her niece which we have seen in the last chapter, withdrew; and presently after arrived Mrs. Honour. She was at work in a neighbouring apartment, and had been summoned to the keyhole by some vociferation in the preceding dialogue, where she had continued during the remaining part of it. At her entry into the room, she found Sophia standing motionless, with the tears trickling from her eyes. Upon which she immediately ordered a proper quantity of tears into her own eyes, and then began, “O Gemini, my dear lady, what is the matter?”⁠—“Nothing,” cries Sophia.⁠—“Nothing! O dear Madam!” answers Honour, “you must not tell me that, when your ladyship is in this taking, and when there hath been such a preamble between your ladyship and Madam Western.”⁠—“Don’t tease me,” cries Sophia; “I tell you nothing is the matter. Good heavens! why was I born?”⁠—“Nay, madam,” says Mrs. Honour, “you shall never persuade me that your la’ship can lament yourself so for nothing. To be sure I am but a servant; but to be sure I have been always faithful to your la’ship, and to be sure I would serve your la’ship with my life.”⁠—“My dear Honour,” says Sophia, “ ’tis not in thy power to be of any service to me. I am irretrievably undone.”⁠—“Heaven forbid!” answered the waiting-woman; “but if I can’t be of any service to you, pray tell me, madam⁠—it will be some comfort to me to know⁠—pray, dear ma’am, tell me what’s the matter.”⁠—“My father,” cries Sophia, “is going to marry me to a man I both despise and hate.”⁠—“O dear, ma’am,” answered the other, “who is this wicked man? for to be sure he is very bad, or your la’ship would not despise him.”⁠—“His name is poison to my tongue,” replied Sophia: “thou wilt know it too soon.” Indeed, to confess the truth, she knew it already,