Chapter x.

  A story told by Mr Supple, the curate. The penetration of SquireWestern. His great love for his daughter, and the return to it made byher.

  The next morning Tom Jones hunted with Mr Western, and was at hisreturn invited by that gentleman to dinner.

  The lovely Sophia shone forth that day with more gaiety andsprightliness than usual. Her battery was certainly levelled at ourheroe; though, I believe, she herself scarce yet knew her ownintention; but if she had any design of charming him, she nowsucceeded.

  Mr Supple, the curate of Mr Allworthy's parish, made one of thecompany. He was a good-natured worthy man; but chiefly remarkable forhis great taciturnity at table, though his mouth was never shut at it.In short, he had one of the best appetites in the world. However, thecloth was no sooner taken away, than he always made sufficient amendsfor his silence: for he was a very hearty fellow; and his conversationwas often entertaining, never offensive.

  At his first arrival, which was immediately before the entrance of theroast-beef, he had given an intimation that he had brought some newswith him, and was beginning to tell, that he came that moment from MrAllworthy's, when the sight of the roast-beef struck him dumb,permitting him only to say grace, and to declare he must pay hisrespect to the baronet, for so he called the sirloin.

  When dinner was over, being reminded by Sophia of his news, he beganas follows: "I believe, lady, your ladyship observed a young woman atchurch yesterday at even-song, who was drest in one of your outlandishgarments; I think I have seen your ladyship in such a one. However, inthe country, such dresses are

  _Rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima cygno._

  That is, madam, as much as to say, 'A rare bird upon the earth, andvery like a black swan.' The verse is in Juvenal. But to return towhat I was relating. I was saying such garments are rare sights in thecountry; and perchance, too, it was thought the more rare, respectbeing had to the person who wore it, who, they tell me, is thedaughter of Black George, your worship's gamekeeper, whose sufferings,I should have opined, might have taught him more wit, than to dressforth his wenches in such gaudy apparel. She created so much confusionin the congregation, that if Squire Allworthy had not silenced it, itwould have interrupted the service: for I was once about to stop inthe middle of the first lesson. Howbeit, nevertheless, after prayerwas over, and I was departed home, this occasioned a battle in thechurchyard, where, amongst other mischief, the head of a travellingfidler was very much broken. This morning the fidler came to SquireAllworthy for a warrant, and the wench was brought before him. Thesquire was inclined to have compounded matters; when, lo! on a suddenthe wench appeared (I ask your ladyship's pardon) to be, as it were,at the eve of bringing forth a bastard. The squire demanded of her whowas the father? But she pertinaciously refused to make any response.So that he was about to make her mittimus to Bridewell when Ideparted."

  "And is a wench having a bastard all your news, doctor?" criesWestern; "I thought it might have been some public matter, somethingabout the nation."

  "I am afraid it is too common, indeed," answered the parson; "but Ithought the whole story altogether deserved commemorating. As tonational matters, your worship knows them best. My concerns extend nofarther than my own parish."

  "Why, ay," says the squire, "I believe I do know a little of thatmatter, as you say. But, come, Tommy, drink about; the bottle standswith you."

  Tom begged to be excused, for that he had particular business; andgetting up from table, escaped the clutches of the squire, who wasrising to stop him, and went off with very little ceremony.

  The squire gave him a good curse at his departure; and then turning tothe parson, he cried out, "I smoke it: I smoke it. Tom is certainlythe father of this bastard. Zooks, parson, you remember how herecommended the veather o' her to me. D--n un, what a sly b--ch 'tis.Ay, ay, as sure as two-pence, Tom is the veather of the bastard."

  "I should be very sorry for that," says the parson.

  "Why sorry," cries the squire: "Where is the mighty matter o't? What,I suppose dost pretend that thee hast never got a bastard? Pox! moregood luck's thine? for I warrant hast a done a _therefore_ many's thegood time and often."

  "Your worship is pleased to be jocular," answered the parson; "but Ido not only animadvert on the sinfulness of the action--though thatsurely is to be greatly deprecated--but I fear his unrighteousness mayinjure him with Mr Allworthy. And truly I must say, though he hath thecharacter of being a little wild, I never saw any harm in the youngman; nor can I say I have heard any, save what your worship nowmentions. I wish, indeed, he was a little more regular in hisresponses at church; but altogether he seems

  _Ingenui vultus puer ingenuique pudoris._

  That is a classical line, young lady; and, being rendered intoEnglish, is, `a lad of an ingenuous countenance, and of an ingenuousmodesty;' for this was a virtue in great repute both among the Latinsand Greeks. I must say, the young gentleman (for so I think I may callhim, notwithstanding his birth) appears to me a very modest, civillad, and I should be sorry that he should do himself any injury inSquire Allworthy's opinion."

  "Poogh!" says the squire: "Injury, with Allworthy! Why, Allworthyloves a wench himself. Doth not all the country know whose son Tom is?You must talk to another person in that manner. I remember Allworthyat college."

  "I thought," said the parson, "he had never been at the university."

  "Yes, yes, he was," says the squire: "and many a wench have we two hadtogether. As arrant a whore-master as any within five miles o'un. No,no. It will do'n no harm with he, assure yourself; nor with anybodyelse. Ask Sophy there--You have not the worse opinion of a youngfellow for getting a bastard, have you, girl? No, no, the women willlike un the better for't."

  This was a cruel question to poor Sophia. She had observed Tom'scolour change at the parson's story; and that, with his hasty andabrupt departure, gave her sufficient reason to think her father'ssuspicion not groundless. Her heart now at once discovered the greatsecret to her which it had been so long disclosing by little andlittle; and she found herself highly interested in this matter. Insuch a situation, her father's malapert question rushing suddenly uponher, produced some symptoms which might have alarmed a suspiciousheart; but, to do the squire justice, that was not his fault. When sherose therefore from her chair, and told him a hint from him was alwayssufficient to make her withdraw, he suffered her to leave the room,and then with great gravity of countenance remarked, "That it wasbetter to see a daughter over-modest than over-forward;"--a sentimentwhich was highly applauded by the parson.

  There now ensued between the squire and the parson a most excellentpolitical discourse, framed out of newspapers and political pamphlets;in which they made a libation of four bottles of wine to the good oftheir country: and then, the squire being fast asleep, the parsonlighted his pipe, mounted his horse, and rode home.

  When the squire had finished his half-hour's nap, he summoned hisdaughter to her harpsichord; but she begged to be excused thatevening, on account of a violent head-ache. This remission waspresently granted; for indeed she seldom had occasion to ask himtwice, as he loved her with such ardent affection, that, by gratifyingher, he commonly conveyed the highest gratification to himself. Shewas really, what he frequently called her, his little darling, and shewell deserved to be so; for she returned all his affection in the mostample manner. She had preserved the most inviolable duty to him in allthings; and this her love made not only easy, but so delightful, thatwhen one of her companions laughed at her for placing so much merit insuch scrupulous obedience, as that young lady called it, Sophiaanswered, "You mistake me, madam, if you think I value myself uponthis account; for besides that I am barely discharging my duty, I amlikewise pleasing myself. I can truly say I have no delight equal tothat of contributing to my father's happiness; and if I value myself,my dear, it is on having this power, and not on executing it."

  This was a satisfaction, however, which poor Sophia was incapable oftasting this evening. She there
fore not only desired to be excusedfrom her attendance at the harpsichord, but likewise begged that hewould suffer her to absent herself from supper. To this requestlikewise the squire agreed, though not without some reluctance; for hescarce ever permitted her to be out of his sight, unless when he wasengaged with his horses, dogs, or bottle. Nevertheless he yielded tothe desire of his daughter, though the poor man was at the same timeobliged to avoid his own company (if I may so express myself), bysending for a neighbouring farmer to sit with him.