History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

  Chapter viii.

  In which fortune seems to have been in a better humour with Jones thanwe have hitherto seen her.

  As there is no wholesomer, so perhaps there are few stronger, sleepingpotions than fatigue. Of this Jones might be said to have taken a verylarge dose, and it operated very forcibly upon him. He had alreadyslept nine hours, and might perhaps have slept longer, had he not beenawakened by a most violent noise at his chamber-door, where the soundof many heavy blows was accompanied with many exclamations of murder.Jones presently leapt from his bed, where he found the master of thepuppet-show belabouring the back and ribs of his poor Merry-Andrew,without either mercy or moderation.

  Jones instantly interposed on behalf of the suffering party, andpinned the insulting conqueror up to the wall: for the puppet-show manwas no more able to contend with Jones than the poor party-colouredjester had been to contend with this puppet-man.

  But though the Merry-Andrew was a little fellow, and not very strong,he had nevertheless some choler about him. He therefore no soonerfound himself delivered from the enemy, than he began to attack himwith the only weapon at which he was his equal. From this he firstdischarged a volley of general abusive words, and thence proceeded tosome particular accusations--"D--n your bl--d, you rascal," says he,"I have not only supported you (for to me you owe all the money youget), but I have saved you from the gallows. Did you not want to robthe lady of her fine riding-habit, no longer ago than yesterday, inthe back-lane here? Can you deny that you wished to have her alone ina wood to strip her--to strip one of the prettiest ladies that everwas seen in the world? and here you have fallen upon me, and havealmost murdered me, for doing no harm to a girl as willing as myself,only because she likes me better than you."

  Jones no sooner heard this than he quitted the master, laying on himat the same time the most violent injunctions of forbearance from anyfurther insult on the Merry-Andrew; and then taking the poor wretchwith him into his own apartment, he soon learned tidings of hisSophia, whom the fellow, as he was attending his master with his drumthe day before, had seen pass by. He easily prevailed with the lad toshow him the exact place, and then having summoned Partridge, hedeparted with the utmost expedition.

  It was almost eight of the clock before all matters could be got readyfor his departure: for Partridge was not in any haste, nor could thereckoning be presently adjusted; and when both these were settled andover, Jones would not quit the place before he had perfectlyreconciled all differences between the master and the man.

  When this was happily accomplished, he set forwards, and was by thetrusty Merry-Andrew conducted to the spot by which Sophia had past;and then having handsomely rewarded his conductor, he again pushed onwith the utmost eagerness, being highly delighted with theextraordinary manner in which he received his intelligence. Of thisPartridge was no sooner acquainted, than he, with great earnestness,began to prophesy, and assured Jones that he would certainly have goodsuccess in the end: for, he said, "two such accidents could never havehappened to direct him after his mistress, if Providence had notdesigned to bring them together at last." And this was the first timethat Jones lent any attention to the superstitious doctrines of hiscompanion.

  They had not gone above two miles when a violent storm of rainovertook them; and, as they happened to be at the same time in sightof an ale-house, Partridge, with much earnest entreaty, prevailed withJones to enter, and weather the storm. Hunger is an enemy (if indeedit may be called one) which partakes more of the English than of theFrench disposition; for, though you subdue this never so often, itwill always rally again in time; and so it did with Partridge, who wasno sooner arrived within the kitchen, than he began to ask the samequestions which he had asked the night before. The consequence of thiswas an excellent cold chine being produced upon the table, upon whichnot only Partridge, but Jones himself, made a very hearty breakfast,though the latter began to grow again uneasy, as the people of thehouse could give him no fresh information concerning Sophia.

  Their meal being over, Jones was again preparing to sally,notwithstanding the violence of the storm still continued; butPartridge begged heartily for another mug; and at last casting hiseyes on a lad at the fire, who had entered into the kitchen, and whoat that instant was looking as earnestly at him, he turned suddenly toJones, and cried, "Master, give me your hand, a single mug shan'tserve the turn this bout. Why, here's more news of Madam Sophia cometo town. The boy there standing by the fire is the very lad that rodebefore her. I can swear to my own plaister on his face."--"Heavensbless you, sir," cries the boy, "it is your own plaister sure enough;I shall have always reason to remember your goodness; for it hathalmost cured me."

  At these words Jones started from his chair, and, bidding the boyfollow him immediately, departed from the kitchen into a privateapartment; for, so delicate was he with regard to Sophia, that henever willingly mentioned her name in the presence of many people;and, though he had, as it were, from the overflowings of his heart,given Sophia as a toast among the officers, where he thought it wasimpossible she should be known; yet, even there, the reader mayremember how difficultly he was prevailed upon to mention her surname.

  Hard therefore was it, and perhaps, in the opinion of many sagaciousreaders, very absurd and monstrous, that he should principally owe hispresent misfortune to the supposed want of that delicacy with which heso abounded; for, in reality, Sophia was much more offended at thefreedoms which she thought (and not without good reason) he had takenwith her name and character, than at any freedoms, in which, under hispresent circumstances, he had indulged himself with the person ofanother woman; and to say truth, I believe Honour could never haveprevailed on her to leave Upton without her seeing Jones, had it notbeen for those two strong instances of a levity in his behaviour, sovoid of respect, and indeed so highly inconsistent with any degree oflove and tenderness in great and delicate minds.

  But so matters fell out, and so I must relate them; and if any readeris shocked at their appearing unnatural, I cannot help it. I mustremind such persons that I am not writing a system, but a history, andI am not obliged to reconcile every matter to the received notionsconcerning truth and nature. But if this was never so easy to do,perhaps it might be more prudent in me to avoid it. For instance, asthe fact at present before us now stands, without any comment of mineupon it, though it may at first sight offend some readers, yet, uponmore mature consideration, it must please all; for wise and good menmay consider what happened to Jones at Upton as a just punishment forhis wickedness with regard to women, of which it was indeed theimmediate consequence; and silly and bad persons may comfortthemselves in their vices by flattering their own hearts that thecharacters of men are rather owing to accident than to virtue. Now,perhaps the reflections which we should be here inclined to draw wouldalike contradict both these conclusions, and would show that theseincidents contribute only to confirm the great, useful, and uncommondoctrine, which it is the purpose of this whole work to inculcate, andwhich we must not fill up our pages by frequently repeating, as anordinary parson fills his sermon by repeating his text at the end ofevery paragraph.

  We are contented that it must appear, however unhappily Sophia haderred in her opinion of Jones, she had sufficient reason for heropinion; since, I believe, every other young lady would, in hersituation, have erred in the same manner. Nay, had she followed herlover at this very time, and had entered this very alehouse the momenthe was departed from it, she would have found the landlord as wellacquainted with her name and person as the wench at Upton had appearedto be. For while Jones was examining his boy in whispers in an innerroom, Partridge, who had no such delicacy in his disposition, was inthe kitchen very openly catechising the other guide who had attendedMrs Fitzpatrick; by which means the landlord, whose ears were open onall such occasions, became perfectly well acquainted with the tumbleof Sophia from her horse, &c., with the mistake concerning JennyCameron, with the many consequences of the punch, and, in short, withalmost everything which had happened at the inn
whence we despatchedour ladies in a coach-and-six when we last took our leaves of them.