History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding
Chapter ii.
1919 words | Chapter 310
In which is opened a very black design against Sophia.
I remember a wise old gentleman who used to say, “When children are
doing nothing, they are doing mischief.” I will not enlarge this
quaint saying to the most beautiful part of the creation in general;
but so far I may be allowed, that when the effects of female jealousy
do not appear openly in their proper colours of rage and fury, we may
suspect that mischievous passion to be at work privately, and
attempting to undermine, what it doth not attack above-ground.
This was exemplified in the conduct of Lady Bellaston, who, under all
the smiles which she wore in her countenance, concealed much
indignation against Sophia; and as she plainly saw that this young
lady stood between her and the full indulgence of her desires, she
resolved to get rid of her by some means or other; nor was it long
before a very favourable opportunity of accomplishing this presented
itself to her.
The reader may be pleased to remember, that when Sophia was thrown
into that consternation at the playhouse, by the wit and humour of a
set of young gentlemen who call themselves the town, we informed him,
that she had put herself under the protection of a young nobleman, who
had very safely conducted her to her chair.
This nobleman, who frequently visited Lady Bellaston, had more than
once seen Sophia there, since her arrival in town, and had conceived a
very great liking to her; which liking, as beauty never looks more
amiable than in distress, Sophia had in this fright so encreased, that
he might now, without any great impropriety, be said to be actually in
love with her.
It may easily be believed, that he would not suffer so handsome an
occasion of improving his acquaintance with the beloved object as now
offered itself to elapse, when even good breeding alone might have
prompted him to pay her a visit.
The next morning therefore, after this accident, he waited on Sophia,
with the usual compliments, and hopes that she had received no harm
from her last night's adventure.
As love, like fire, when once thoroughly kindled, is soon blown into a
flame, Sophia in a very short time compleated her conquest. Time now
flew away unperceived, and the noble lord had been two hours in
company with the lady, before it entered into his head that he had
made too long a visit. Though this circumstance alone would have
alarmed Sophia, who was somewhat more a mistress of computation at
present; she had indeed much more pregnant evidence from the eyes of
her lover of what past within his bosom; nay, though he did not make
any open declaration of his passion, yet many of his expressions were
rather too warm, and too tender, to have been imputed to complacence,
even in the age when such complacence was in fashion; the very reverse
of which is well known to be the reigning mode at present.
Lady Bellaston had been apprized of his lordship's visit at his first
arrival; and the length of it very well satisfied her, that things
went as she wished, and as indeed she had suspected the second time
she saw this young couple together. This business, she rightly I think
concluded, that she should by no means forward by mixing in the
company while they were together; she therefore ordered her servants,
that when my lord was going, they should tell him she desired to speak
with him; and employed the intermediate time in meditating how best to
accomplish a scheme, which she made no doubt but his lordship would
very readily embrace the execution of.
Lord Fellamar (for that was the title of this young nobleman) was no
sooner introduced to her ladyship, than she attacked him in the
following strain: “Bless me, my lord, are you here yet? I thought my
servants had made a mistake, and let you go away; and I wanted to see
you about an affair of some importance.”----“Indeed, Lady Bellaston,”
said he, “I don't wonder you are astonished at the length of my
visit; for I have staid above two hours, and I did not think I had
staid above half-a-one.”----“What am I to conclude from thence, my
lord?” said she. “The company must be very agreeable which can make
time slide away so very deceitfully.”----“Upon my honour,” said he,
“the most agreeable I ever saw. Pray tell me, Lady Bellaston, who is
this blazing star which you have produced among us all of a
sudden?”----“What blazing star, my lord?” said she, affecting a
surprize. “I mean,” said he, “the lady I saw here the other day, whom
I had last night in my arms at the playhouse, and to whom I have been
making that unreasonable visit.”----“O, my cousin Western!” said she;
“why, that blazing star, my lord, is the daughter of a country booby
squire, and hath been in town about a fortnight, for the first
time.”----“Upon my soul,” said he, “I should swear she had been bred
up in a court; for besides her beauty, I never saw anything so
genteel, so sensible, so polite.”----“O brave!” cries the lady, “my
cousin hath you, I find.”----“Upon my honour,” answered he, “I wish
she had; for I am in love with her to distraction.”----“Nay, my
lord,” said she, “it is not wishing yourself very ill neither, for
she is a very great fortune: I assure you she is an only child, and
her father's estate is a good £3000 a-year.” “Then I can assure you,
madam,” answered the lord, “I think her the best match in England.”
“Indeed, my lord,” replied she, “if you like her, I heartily wish you
had her.” “If you think so kindly of me, madam,” said he, “as she is
a relation of yours, will you do me the honour to propose it to her
father?” “And are you really then in earnest?” cries the lady, with
an affected gravity. “I hope, madam,” answered he, “you have a better
opinion of me, than to imagine I would jest with your ladyship in an
affair of this kind.” “Indeed, then,” said the lady, “I will most
readily propose your lordship to her father; and I can, I believe,
assure you of his joyful acceptance of the proposal; but there is a
bar, which I am almost ashamed to mention; and yet it is one you will
never be able to conquer. You have a rival, my lord, and a rival who,
though I blush to name him, neither you, nor all the world, will ever
be able to conquer.” “Upon my word, Lady Bellaston,” cries he, “you
have struck a damp to my heart, which hath almost deprived me of
being.” “Fie, my lord,” said she, “I should rather hope I had struck
fire into you. A lover, and talk of damps in your heart! I rather
imagined you would have asked your rival's name, that you might have
immediately entered the lists with him.” “I promise you, madam,”
answered he, “there are very few things I would not undertake for
your charming cousin; but pray, who is this happy man?”--“Why, he
is,” said she, “what I am sorry to say most happy men with us are,
one of the lowest fellows in the world. He is a beggar, a bastard, a
foundling, a fellow in meaner circumstances than one of your
lordship's footmen.” “And is it possible,” cried he, “that a young
creature with such perfections should think of bestowing herself so
unworthily?” “Alas! my lord,” answered she, “consider the
country--the bane of all young women is the country. There they learn
a set of romantic notions of love, and I know not what folly, which
this town and good company can scarce eradicate in a whole winter.”
“Indeed, madam,” replied my lord, “your cousin is of too immense a
value to be thrown away; such ruin as this must be prevented.”
“Alas!” cries she, “my lord, how can it be prevented? The family have
already done all in their power; but the girl is, I think,
intoxicated, and nothing less than ruin will content her. And to deal
more openly with you, I expect every day to hear she is run away with
him.” “What you tell me, Lady Bellaston,” answered his lordship,
“affects me most tenderly, and only raises my compassion, instead of
lessening my adoration of your cousin. Some means must be found to
preserve so inestimable a jewel. Hath your ladyship endeavoured to
reason with her?” Here the lady affected a laugh, and cried, “My dear
lord, sure you know us better than to talk of reasoning a young woman
out of her inclinations? These inestimable jewels are as deaf as the
jewels they wear: time, my lord, time is the only medicine to cure
their folly; but this is a medicine which I am certain she will not
take; nay, I live in hourly horrors on her account. In short, nothing
but violent methods will do.” “What is to be done?” cries my lord;
“what methods are to be taken?--Is there any method upon earth?--Oh!
Lady Bellaston! there is nothing which I would not undertake for such
a reward.”----“I really know not,” answered the lady, after a pause;
and then pausing again, she cried out--“Upon my soul, I am at my
wit's end on this girl's account.--If she can be preserved, something
must be done immediately; and, as I say, nothing but violent methods
will do.----If your lordship hath really this attachment to my cousin
(and to do her justice, except in this silly inclination, of which
she will soon see her folly, she is every way deserving), I think
there may be one way, indeed, it is a very disagreeable one, and what
I am almost afraid to think of.--It requires a great spirit, I
promise you.” “I am not conscious, madam,” said he, “of any defect
there; nor am I, I hope, suspected of any such. It must be an
egregious defect indeed, which could make me backward on this
occasion.” “Nay, my lord,” answered she, “I am so far from doubting
you, I am much more inclined to doubt my own courage; for I must run
a monstrous risque. In short, I must place such a confidence in your
honour as a wise woman will scarce ever place in a man on any
consideration.” In this point likewise my lord very well satisfied
her; for his reputation was extremely clear, and common fame did him
no more than justice, in speaking well of him. “Well, then,” said
she, “my lord,--I--I vow, I can't bear the apprehension of it.--No,
it must not be.----At least every other method shall be tried. Can
you get rid of your engagements, and dine here to-day? Your lordship
will have an opportunity of seeing a little more of Miss Western.--I
promise you we have no time to lose. Here will be nobody but Lady
Betty, and Miss Eagle, and Colonel Hampsted, and Tom Edwards; they
will all go soon--and I shall be at home to nobody. Then your
lordship may be a little more explicit. Nay, I will contrive some
method to convince you of her attachment to this fellow.” My lord
made proper compliments, accepted the invitation, and then they
parted to dress, it being now past three in the morning, or to reckon
by the old style, in the afternoon.
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