History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding
introduction, began the following speech:--“I am very sorry, sir, to
1356 words | Chapter 300
wait upon you on such an occasion; but I hope you will consider the
ill consequence which it must be to the reputation of my poor girls,
if my house should once be talked of as a house of ill-fame. I hope
you won't think me, therefore, guilty of impertinence, if I beg you
not to bring any more ladies in at that time of night. The clock had
struck two before one of them went away.”--“I do assure you, madam,”
said Jones, “the lady who was here last night, and who staid the
latest (for the other only brought me a letter), is a woman of very
great fashion, and my near relation.”--“I don't know what fashion she
is of,” answered Mrs Miller; “but I am sure no woman of virtue, unless
a very near relation indeed, would visit a young gentleman at ten at
night, and stay four hours in his room with him alone; besides, sir,
the behaviour of her chairmen shows what she was; for they did nothing
but make jests all the evening in the entry, and asked Mr Partridge,
in the hearing of my own maid, if madam intended to stay with his
master all night; with a great deal of stuff not proper to be
repeated. I have really a great respect for you, Mr Jones, upon your
own account; nay, I have a very high obligation to you for your
generosity to my cousin. Indeed, I did not know how very good you had
been till lately. Little did I imagine to what dreadful courses the
poor man's distress had driven him. Little did I think, when you gave
me the ten guineas, that you had given them to a highwayman! O
heavens! what goodness have you shown! How have you preserved this
family!--The character which Mr Allworthy hath formerly given me of
you was, I find, strictly true.--And indeed, if I had no obligation to
you, my obligations to him are such, that, on his account, I should
shew you the utmost respect in my power.--Nay, believe me, dear Mr
Jones, if my daughters' and my own reputation were out of the case, I
should, for your own sake, be sorry that so pretty a young gentleman
should converse with these women; but if you are resolved to do it, I
must beg you to take another lodging; for I do not myself like to have
such things carried on under my roof; but more especially upon the
account of my girls, who have little, heaven knows, besides their
characters, to recommend them.” Jones started and changed colour at
the name of Allworthy. “Indeed, Mrs Miller,” answered he, a little
warmly, “I do not take this at all kind. I will never bring any
slander on your house; but I must insist on seeing what company I
please in my own room; and if that gives you any offence, I shall, as
soon as I am able, look for another lodging.”--“I am sorry we must
part then, sir,” said she; “but I am convinced Mr Allworthy himself
would never come within my doors, if he had the least suspicion of my
keeping an ill house.”--“Very well, madam,” said Jones.--“I hope,
sir,” said she, “you are not angry; for I would not for the world
offend any of Mr Allworthy's family. I have not slept a wink all night
about this matter.”--“I am sorry I have disturbed your rest, madam,”
said Jones, “but I beg you will send Partridge up to me immediately;”
which she promised to do, and then with a very low courtesy retired.
As soon as Partridge arrived, Jones fell upon him in the most
outrageous manner. “How often,” said he, “am I to suffer for your
folly, or rather for my own in keeping you? is that tongue of yours
resolved upon my destruction?” “What have I done, sir?” answered
affrighted Partridge. “Who was it gave you authority to mention the
story of the robbery, or that the man you saw here was the person?”
“I, sir?” cries Partridge. “Now don't be guilty of a falsehood in
denying it,” said Jones. “If I did mention such a matter,” answers
Partridge, “I am sure I thought no harm; for I should not have opened
my lips, if it had not been to his own friends and relations, who, I
imagined, would have let it go no farther.” “But I have a much heavier
charge against you,” cries Jones, “than this. How durst you, after all
the precautions I gave you, mention the name of Mr Allworthy in this
house?” Partridge denied that he ever had, with many oaths. “How
else,” said Jones, “should Mrs Miller be acquainted that there was any
connexion between him and me? And it is but this moment she told me
she respected me on his account.” “O Lord, sir,” said Partridge, “I
desire only to be heard out; and to be sure, never was anything so
unfortunate: hear me but out, and you will own how wrongfully you have
accused me. When Mrs Honour came downstairs last night she met me in
the entry, and asked me when my master had heard from Mr Allworthy;
and to be sure Mrs Miller heard the very words; and the moment Madam
Honour was gone, she called me into the parlour to her. `Mr
Partridge,' says she, `what Mr Allworthy is it that the gentlewoman
mentioned? is it the great Mr Allworthy of Somersetshire?' `Upon my
word, madam,' says I, `I know nothing of the matter.' `Sure,' says
she, `your master is not the Mr Jones I have heard Mr Allworthy talk
of?' `Upon my word, madam,' says I, `I know nothing of the matter.'
`Then,' says she, turning to her daughter Nancy, says she, `as sure as
tenpence this is the very young gentleman, and he agrees exactly with
the squire's description.' The Lord above knows who it was told her:
for I am the arrantest villain that ever walked upon two legs if ever
it came out of my mouth. I promise you, sir, I can keep a secret when
I am desired. Nay, sir, so far was I from telling her anything about
Mr Allworthy, that I told her the very direct contrary; for, though I
did not contradict it at that moment, yet, as second thoughts, they
say, are best, so when I came to consider that somebody must have
informed her, thinks I to myself, I will put an end to the story; and
so I went back again into the parlour some time afterwards, and says
I, upon my word, says I, whoever, says I, told you that this gentleman
was Mr Jones; that is, says I, that this Mr Jones was that Mr Jones,
told you a confounded lie: and I beg, says I, you will never mention
any such matter, says I; for my master, says I, will think I must have
told you so; and I defy anybody in the house ever to say I mentioned
any such word. To be certain, sir, it is a wonderful thing, and I have
been thinking with myself ever since, how it was she came to know it;
not but I saw an old woman here t'other day a begging at the door, who
looked as like her we saw in Warwickshire, that caused all that
mischief to us. To be sure it is never good to pass by an old woman
without giving her something, especially if she looks at you; for all
the world shall never persuade me but that they have a great power to
do mischief, and to be sure I shall never see an old woman again, but
I shall think to myself, _Infandum, regina, jubes renovare dolorem._”
The simplicity of Partridge set Jones a laughing, and put a final end
to his anger, which had indeed seldom any long duration in his mind;
and, instead of commenting on his defence, he told him he intended
presently to leave those lodgings, and ordered him to go and endeavour
to get him others.
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