History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding
Chapter v.
1760 words | Chapter 244
An apology for all heroes who have good stomachs, with a description
of a battle of the amorous kind.
Heroes, notwithstanding the high ideas which, by the means of
flatterers, they may entertain of themselves, or the world may
conceive of them, have certainly more of mortal than divine about
them. However elevated their minds may be, their bodies at least
(which is much the major part of most) are liable to the worst
infirmities, and subject to the vilest offices of human nature. Among
these latter, the act of eating, which hath by several wise men been
considered as extremely mean and derogatory from the philosophic
dignity, must be in some measure performed by the greatest prince,
heroe, or philosopher upon earth; nay, sometimes Nature hath been so
frolicsome as to exact of these dignified characters a much more
exorbitant share of this office than she hath obliged those of the
lowest order to perform.
To say the truth, as no known inhabitant of this globe is really more
than man, so none need be ashamed of submitting to what the
necessities of man demand; but when those great personages I have just
mentioned condescend to aim at confining such low offices to
themselves--as when, by hoarding or destroying, they seem desirous to
prevent any others from eating--then they surely become very low and
despicable.
Now, after this short preface, we think it no disparagement to our
heroe to mention the immoderate ardour with which he laid about him at
this season. Indeed, it may be doubted whether Ulysses, who by the way
seems to have had the best stomach of all the heroes in that eating
poem of the Odyssey, ever made a better meal. Three pounds at least of
that flesh which formerly had contributed to the composition of an ox
was now honoured with becoming part of the individual Mr Jones.
This particular we thought ourselves obliged to mention, as it may
account for our heroe's temporary neglect of his fair companion, who
eat but very little, and was indeed employed in considerations of a
very different nature, which passed unobserved by Jones, till he had
entirely satisfied that appetite which a fast of twenty-four hours had
procured him; but his dinner was no sooner ended than his attention to
other matters revived; with these matters therefore we shall now
proceed to acquaint the reader.
Mr Jones, of whose personal accomplishments we have hitherto said very
little, was, in reality, one of the handsomest young fellows in the
world. His face, besides being the picture of health, had in it the
most apparent marks of sweetness and good-nature. These qualities were
indeed so characteristical in his countenance, that, while the spirit
and sensibility in his eyes, though they must have been perceived by
an accurate observer, might have escaped the notice of the less
discerning, so strongly was this good-nature painted in his look, that
it was remarked by almost every one who saw him.
It was, perhaps, as much owing to this as to a very fine complexion
that his face had a delicacy in it almost inexpressible, and which
might have given him an air rather too effeminate, had it not been
joined to a most masculine person and mien: which latter had as much
in them of the Hercules as the former had of the Adonis. He was
besides active, genteel, gay, and good-humoured; and had a flow of
animal spirits which enlivened every conversation where he was
present.
When the reader hath duly reflected on these many charms which all
centered in our heroe, and considers at the same time the fresh
obligations which Mrs Waters had to him, it will be a mark more of
prudery than candour to entertain a bad opinion of her because she
conceived a very good opinion of him.
But, whatever censures may be passed upon her, it is my business to
relate matters of fact with veracity. Mrs Waters had, in truth, not
only a good opinion of our heroe, but a very great affection for him.
To speak out boldly at once, she was in love, according to the present
universally-received sense of that phrase, by which love is applied
indiscriminately to the desirable objects of all our passions,
appetites, and senses, and is understood to be that preference which
we give to one kind of food rather than to another.
But though the love to these several objects may possibly be one and
the same in all cases, its operations however must be allowed to be
different; for, how much soever we may be in love with an excellent
surloin of beef, or bottle of Burgundy; with a damask rose, or Cremona
fiddle; yet do we never smile, nor ogle, nor dress, nor flatter, nor
endeavour by any other arts or tricks to gain the affection of the
said beef, &c. Sigh indeed we sometimes may; but it is generally in
the absence, not in the presence, of the beloved object. For otherwise
we might possibly complain of their ingratitude and deafness, with the
same reason as Pasiphae doth of her bull, whom she endeavoured to
engage by all the coquetry practised with good success in the
drawing-room on the much more sensible as well as tender hearts of the
fine gentlemen there.
The contrary happens in that love which operates between persons of
the same species, but of different sexes. Here we are no sooner in
love than it becomes our principal care to engage the affection of the
object beloved. For what other purpose indeed are our youth instructed
in all the arts of rendering themselves agreeable? If it was not with
a view to this love, I question whether any of those trades which deal
in setting off and adorning the human person would procure a
livelihood. Nay, those great polishers of our manners, who are by some
thought to teach what principally distinguishes us from the brute
creation, even dancing-masters themselves, might possibly find no
place in society. In short, all the graces which young ladies and
young gentlemen too learn from others, and the many improvements
which, by the help of a looking-glass, they add of their own, are in
reality those very _spicula et faces amoris_ so often mentioned by
Ovid; or, as they are sometimes called in our own language, the whole
artillery of love.
Now Mrs Waters and our heroe had no sooner sat down together than the
former began to play this artillery upon the latter. But here, as we
are about to attempt a description hitherto unassayed either in prose
or verse, we think proper to invoke the assistance of certain aërial
beings, who will, we doubt not, come kindly to our aid on this
occasion.
“Say then, ye Graces! you that inhabit the heavenly mansions of
Seraphina's countenance; for you are truly divine, are always in her
presence, and well know all the arts of charming; say, what were the
weapons now used to captivate the heart of Mr Jones.”
“First, from two lovely blue eyes, whose bright orbs flashed lightning
at their discharge, flew forth two pointed ogles; but, happily for our
heroe, hit only a vast piece of beef which he was then conveying into
his plate, and harmless spent their force. The fair warrior perceived
their miscarriage, and immediately from her fair bosom drew forth a
deadly sigh. A sigh which none could have heard unmoved, and which was
sufficient at once to have swept off a dozen beaus; so soft, so sweet,
so tender, that the insinuating air must have found its subtle way to
the heart of our heroe, had it not luckily been driven from his ears
by the coarse bubbling of some bottled ale, which at that time he was
pouring forth. Many other weapons did she assay; but the god of eating
(if there be any such deity, for I do not confidently assert it)
preserved his votary; or perhaps it may not be _dignus vindice nodus_,
and the present security of Jones may be accounted for by natural
means; for as love frequently preserves from the attacks of hunger, so
may hunger possibly, in some cases, defend us against love.
“The fair one, enraged at her frequent disappointments, determined on
a short cessation of arms. Which interval she employed in making ready
every engine of amorous warfare for the renewing of the attack when
dinner should be over.
“No sooner then was the cloth removed than she again began her
operations. First, having planted her right eye sidewise against Mr
Jones, she shot from its corner a most penetrating glance; which,
though great part of its force was spent before it reached our heroe,
did not vent itself absolutely without effect. This the fair one
perceiving, hastily withdrew her eyes, and levelled them downwards, as
if she was concerned for what she had done; though by this means she
designed only to draw him from his guard, and indeed to open his eyes,
through which she intended to surprize his heart. And now, gently
lifting up those two bright orbs which had already begun to make an
impression on poor Jones, she discharged a volley of small charms at
once from her whole countenance in a smile. Not a smile of mirth, nor
of joy; but a smile of affection, which most ladies have always ready
at their command, and which serves them to show at once their
good-humour, their pretty dimples, and their white teeth.
“This smile our heroe received full in his eyes, and was immediately
staggered with its force. He then began to see the designs of the
enemy, and indeed to feel their success. A parley now was set on foot
between the parties; during which the artful fair so slily and
imperceptibly carried on her attack, that she had almost subdued the
heart of our heroe before she again repaired to acts of hostility. To
confess the truth, I am afraid Mr Jones maintained a kind of Dutch
defence, and treacherously delivered up the garrison, without duly
weighing his allegiance to the fair Sophia. In short, no sooner had
the amorous parley ended and the lady had unmasked the royal battery,
by carelessly letting her handkerchief drop from her neck, than the
heart of Mr Jones was entirely taken, and the fair conqueror enjoyed
the usual fruits of her victory.”
Here the Graces think proper to end their description, and here we
think proper to end the chapter.
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