History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding
Chapter vii.
1757 words | Chapter 198
A picture of formal courtship in miniature, as it always ought to be
drawn, and a scene of a tenderer kind painted at full length.
It was well remarked by one (and perhaps by more), that misfortunes do
not come single. This wise maxim was now verified by Sophia, who was
not only disappointed of seeing the man she loved, but had the
vexation of being obliged to dress herself out, in order to receive a
visit from the man she hated.
That afternoon Mr Western, for the first time, acquainted his daughter
with his intention; telling her, he knew very well that she had heard
it before from her aunt. Sophia looked very grave upon this, nor could
she prevent a few pearls from stealing into her eyes. “Come, come,”
says Western, “none of your maidenish airs; I know all; I assure you
sister hath told me all.”
“Is it possible,” says Sophia, “that my aunt can have betrayed me
already?”--“Ay, ay,” says Western; “betrayed you! ay. Why, you
betrayed yourself yesterday at dinner. You showed your fancy very
plainly, I think. But you young girls never know what you would be at.
So you cry because I am going to marry you to the man you are in love
with! Your mother, I remember, whimpered and whined just in the same
manner; but it was all over within twenty-four hours after we were
married: Mr Blifil is a brisk young man, and will soon put an end to
your squeamishness. Come, chear up, chear up; I expect un every
minute.”
Sophia was now convinced that her aunt had behaved honourably to her:
and she determined to go through that disagreeable afternoon with as
much resolution as possible, and without giving the least suspicion in
the world to her father.
Mr Blifil soon arrived; and Mr Western soon after withdrawing, left
the young couple together.
Here a long silence of near a quarter of an hour ensued; for the
gentleman who was to begin the conversation had all the unbecoming
modesty which consists in bashfulness. He often attempted to speak,
and as often suppressed his words just at the very point of utterance.
At last out they broke in a torrent of far-fetched and high-strained
compliments, which were answered on her side by downcast looks, half
bows, and civil monosyllables. Blifil, from his inexperience in the
ways of women, and from his conceit of himself, took this behaviour
for a modest assent to his courtship; and when, to shorten a scene
which she could no longer support, Sophia rose up and left the room,
he imputed that, too, merely to bashfulness, and comforted himself
that he should soon have enough of her company.
He was indeed perfectly well satisfied with his prospect of success;
for as to that entire and absolute possession of the heart of his
mistress which romantic lovers require, the very idea of it never
entered his head. Her fortune and her person were the sole objects of
his wishes, of which he made no doubt soon to obtain the absolute
property; as Mr Western's mind was so earnestly bent on the match; and
as he well knew the strict obedience which Sophia was always ready to
pay to her father's will, and the greater still which her father would
exact, if there was occasion. This authority, therefore, together with
the charms which he fancied in his own person and conversation, could
not fail, he thought, of succeeding with a young lady, whose
inclinations were, he doubted not, entirely disengaged.
Of Jones he certainly had not even the least jealousy; and I have
often thought it wonderful that he had not. Perhaps he imagined the
character which Jones bore all over the country (how justly, let the
reader determine), of being one of the wildest fellows in England,
might render him odious to a lady of the most exemplary modesty.
Perhaps his suspicions might be laid asleep by the behaviour of
Sophia, and of Jones himself, when they were all in company together.
Lastly, and indeed principally, he was well assured there was not
another self in the case. He fancied that he knew Jones to the bottom,
and had in reality a great contempt for his understanding, for not
being more attached to his own interest. He had no apprehension that
Jones was in love with Sophia; and as for any lucrative motives, he
imagined they would sway very little with so silly a fellow. Blifil,
moreover, thought the affair of Molly Seagrim still went on, and
indeed believed it would end in marriage; for Jones really loved him
from his childhood, and had kept no secret from him, till his
behaviour on the sickness of Mr Allworthy had entirely alienated his
heart; and it was by means of the quarrel which had ensued on this
occasion, and which was not yet reconciled, that Mr Blifil knew
nothing of the alteration which had happened in the affection which
Jones had formerly borne towards Molly.
From these reasons, therefore, Mr Blifil saw no bar to his success
with Sophia. He concluded her behaviour was like that of all other
young ladies on a first visit from a lover, and it had indeed entirely
answered his expectations.
Mr Western took care to way-lay the lover at his exit from his
mistress. He found him so elevated with his success, so enamoured with
his daughter, and so satisfied with her reception of him, that the old
gentleman began to caper and dance about his hall, and by many other
antic actions to express the extravagance of his joy; for he had not
the least command over any of his passions; and that which had at any
time the ascendant in his mind hurried him to the wildest excesses.
As soon as Blifil was departed, which was not till after many hearty
kisses and embraces bestowed on him by Western, the good squire went
instantly in quest of his daughter, whom he no sooner found than he
poured forth the most extravagant raptures, bidding her chuse what
clothes and jewels she pleased; and declaring that he had no other use
for fortune but to make her happy. He then caressed her again and
again with the utmost profusion of fondness, called her by the most
endearing names, and protested she was his only joy on earth.
Sophia perceiving her father in this fit of affection, which she did
not absolutely know the reason of (for fits of fondness were not
unusual to him, though this was rather more violent than ordinary),
thought she should never have a better opportunity of disclosing
herself than at present, as far at least as regarded Mr Blifil; and
she too well foresaw the necessity which she should soon be under of
coming to a full explanation. After having thanked the squire,
therefore, for all his professions of kindness, she added, with a look
full of inexpressible softness, “And is it possible my papa can be so
good to place all his joy in his Sophy's happiness?” which Western
having confirmed by a great oath, and a kiss; she then laid hold of
his hand, and, falling on her knees, after many warm and passionate
declarations of affection and duty, she begged him “not to make her
the most miserable creature on earth by forcing her to marry a man
whom she detested. This I entreat of you, dear sir,” said she, “for
your sake, as well as my own, since you are so very kind to tell me
your happiness depends on mine.”--“How! what!” says Western, staring
wildly. “Oh! sir,” continued she, “not only your poor Sophy's
happiness; her very life, her being, depends upon your granting her
request. I cannot live with Mr Blifil. To force me into this marriage
would be killing me.”--“You can't live with Mr Blifil?” says Western.
“No, upon my soul I can't,” answered Sophia. “Then die and be d--d,”
cries he, spurning her from him. “Oh! sir,” cries Sophia, catching
hold of the skirt of his coat, “take pity on me, I beseech you. Don't
look and say such cruel--Can you be unmoved while you see your Sophy
in this dreadful condition? Can the best of fathers break my heart?
Will he kill me by the most painful, cruel, lingering death?”--“Pooh!
pooh!” cries the squire; “all stuff and nonsense; all maidenish
tricks. Kill you, indeed! Will marriage kill you?”--“Oh! sir,”
answered Sophia, “such a marriage is worse than death. He is not even
indifferent; I hate and detest him.”--“If you detest un never so
much,” cries Western, “you shall ha'un.” This he bound by an oath too
shocking to repeat; and after many violent asseverations, concluded in
these words: “I am resolved upon the match, and unless you consent to
it I will not give you a groat, not a single farthing; no, though I
saw you expiring with famine in the street, I would not relieve you
with a morsel of bread. This is my fixed resolution, and so I leave
you to consider on it.” He then broke from her with such violence,
that her face dashed against the floor; and he burst directly out of
the room, leaving poor Sophia prostrate on the ground.
When Western came into the hall, he there found Jones; who seeing his
friend looking wild, pale, and almost breathless, could not forbear
enquiring the reason of all these melancholy appearances. Upon which
the squire immediately acquainted him with the whole matter,
concluding with bitter denunciations against Sophia, and very pathetic
lamentations of the misery of all fathers who are so unfortunate to
have daughters.
Jones, to whom all the resolutions which had been taken in favour of
Blifil were yet a secret, was at first almost struck dead with this
relation; but recovering his spirits a little, mere despair, as he
afterwards said, inspired him to mention a matter to Mr Western, which
seemed to require more impudence than a human forehead was ever gifted
with. He desired leave to go to Sophia, that he might endeavour to
obtain her concurrence with her father's inclinations.
If the squire had been as quicksighted as he was remarkable for the
contrary, passion might at present very well have blinded him. He
thanked Jones for offering to undertake the office, and said, “Go, go,
prithee, try what canst do;” and then swore many execrable oaths that
he would turn her out of doors unless she consented to the match.
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