The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding (top young adult novels TXT) 📕

was a younger brother of a good family, and, having no fortune at home, was obliged to look abroad in order to get one; for which purpose he was proceeding to the Bath, to try his luck with cards and the women.

This young fellow lay in bed reading one of Mrs. Behn’s novels; for he had been instructed by a friend that he would find no more effectual method of recommending himself to the ladies than the improving his understanding, and filling his mind with good literature. He no sooner, therefore, heard the violent uproar in the next room, than he leapt from his bolster, and, taking his sword in one hand, and the candle which burnt by him in the other, he went directly to Mrs. Waters’s chamber.

If the sight of another man in his shirt at first added some shock to the decency of the lady, it made her presently amends by considerably abating her fears; for no sooner had the calabalaro entered the room than he cried out, “Mr. Fitzpatrick, what the devil is the maning of this?” Upon which the other immediately answered, “O, Mr. Maclachlan! I am rejoiced you are here. This villain hath debauched my wife, and is got into bed with her.”⁠—“What wife?” cries Maclachlan; “do not I know Mrs. Fitzpatrick very well, and don’t I see that the lady, whom the gentleman who stands here in his shirt is lying in bed with, is none of her?”

Fitzpatrick, now perceiving, as well by the glimpse he had of the lady, as by her voice, which might have been distinguished at a greater distance than he now stood from her, that he had made a very unfortunate mistake, began to ask many pardons of the lady; and then, turning to Jones, he said, “I would have you take notice I do not ask your pardon, for you have bate me; for which I am resolved to have your blood in the morning.”

Jones treated this menace with much contempt; and Mr. Maclachlan answered, “Indeed, Mr. Fitzpatrick, you may be ashamed of your own self, to disturb people at this time of night; if all the people in the inn were not asleep, you would have awakened them as you have me. The gentleman has served you very rightly. Upon my conscience, though I have no wife, if you had treated her so, I would have cut your throat.”

Jones was so confounded with his fears for his lady’s reputation, that he knew neither what to say or do; but the invention of women is, as hath been observed, much readier than that of men. She recollected that there was a communication between her chamber and that of Mr. Jones; relying, therefore, on his honour and her own assurance, she answered, “I know not what you mean, villains! I am wife to none of you. Help! Rape! Murder! Rape!”⁠—And now, the landlady coming into the room, Mrs. Waters fell upon her with the utmost virulence, saying, “She thought herself in a sober inn, and not in a bawdyhouse; but that a set of villains had broke into her room, with an intent upon her honour, if not upon her life; and both, she said, were equally dear to her.”

The landlady now began to roar as loudly as the poor woman in bed had done before. She cried, “She was undone, and that the reputation of her house, which was never blown upon before, was utterly destroyed.” Then, turning to the men, she cried, “What, in the devil’s name, is the reason of all this disturbance in the lady’s room?” Fitzpatrick, hanging down his head, repeated, “That he had committed a mistake, for which he heartily asked pardon,” and then retired with his countryman. Jones, who was too ingenious to have missed the hint given him by his fair one, boldly asserted, “That he had run to her assistance upon hearing the door broke open, with what design he could not conceive, unless of robbing the lady; which, if they intended, he said, he had the good fortune to prevent.”⁠—“I never had a robbery committed in my house since I have kept it,” cries the landlady; “I would have you to know, sir, I harbour no highwaymen here; I scorn the word, thof I say it. None but honest, good gentlefolks, are welcome to my house; and, I thank good luck, I have always had enow of such customers; indeed as many as I could entertain. Here hath been my Lord⁠—,” and then she repeated over a catalogue of names and titles, many of which we might, perhaps, be guilty of a breach of privilege by inserting.

Jones, after much patience, at length interrupted her, by making an apology to Mrs. Waters, for having appeared before her in his shirt, assuring her “That nothing but a concern for her safety could have prevailed on him to do it.” The reader may inform himself of her answer, and, indeed, of her whole behaviour to the end of the scene, by considering the situation which she affected, it being that of a modest lady, who was awakened out of her sleep by three strange men in her chamber. This was the part which she undertook to perform; and, indeed, she executed it so well, that none of our theatrical actresses could exceed her, in any of their performances, either on or off the stage.

And hence, I think, we may very fairly draw an argument, to prove how extremely natural virtue is to the fair sex; for, though there is not, perhaps, one in ten thousand who is capable of making a good actress, and even among these we rarely see two who are equally able to personate the same character, yet this of virtue they can all admirably well put on; and as well those individuals who have it not, as those who possess it, can all act it to the utmost degree of perfection.

When the men were all departed, Mrs. Waters, recovering from her fear, recovered likewise from her anger, and