History of Tom Jones, a Foundling. Fielding Harold

people, I am persuaded they would never decline putting themselves upon a par with their adversary; or, as the phrase is, making themselves his match.

      But such reformations are rather to be wished than hoped for: I shall content myself, therefore, with this short hint, and return to my narrative.

      Western began now to inquire into the original rise of this quarrel. To which neither Blifil nor Jones gave any answer; but Thwackum said surlily, “I believe the cause is not far off; if you beat the bushes well you may find her.” – “Find her?” replied Western: “what! have you been fighting for a wench?” – “Ask the gentleman in his waistcoat there,” said Thwackum: “he best knows.” “Nay then,” cries Western, “it is a wench certainly. – Ah, Tom, Tom, thou art a liquorish dog. But come, gentlemen, be all friends, and go home with me, and make final peace over a bottle.” “I ask your pardon, sir,” says Thwackum: “it is no such slight matter for a man of my character to be thus injuriously treated, and buffeted by a boy, only because I would have done my duty, in endeavouring to detect and bring to justice a wanton harlot; but, indeed, the principal fault lies in Mr Allworthy and yourself; for if you put the laws in execution, as you ought to do, you will soon rid the country of these vermin.”

      “I would as soon rid the country of foxes,” cries Western. “I think we ought to encourage the recruiting those numbers which we are every day losing in the war. – But where is she? Prithee, Tom, show me.” He then began to beat about, in the same language and in the same manner as if he had been beating for a hare; and at last cried out, “Soho! Puss is not far off. Here’s her form, upon my soul; I believe I may cry stole away.” And indeed so he might; for he had now discovered the place whence the poor girl had, at the beginning of the fray, stolen away, upon as many feet as a hare generally uses in travelling.

      Sophia now desired her father to return home; saying she found herself very faint, and apprehended a relapse. The squire immediately complied with his daughter’s request (for he was the fondest of parents). He earnestly endeavoured to prevail with the whole company to go and sup with him: but Blifil and Thwackum absolutely refused; the former saying, there were more reasons than he could then mention, why he must decline this honour; and the latter declaring (perhaps rightly) that it was not proper for a person of his function to be seen at any place in his present condition.

      Jones was incapable of refusing the pleasure of being with his Sophia; so on he marched with Squire Western and his ladies, the parson bringing up the rear. This had, indeed, offered to tarry with his brother Thwackum, professing his regard for the cloth would not permit him to depart; but Thwackum would not accept the favour, and, with no great civility, pushed him after Mr Western.

      Thus ended this bloody fray; and thus shall end the fifth book of this history.

      BOOK VI. – CONTAINING ABOUT THREE WEEKS

      Chapter i. – Of love

      In our last book we have been obliged to deal pretty much with the passion of love; and in our succeeding book shall be forced to handle this subject still more largely. It may not therefore in this place be improper to apply ourselves to the examination of that modern doctrine, by which certain philosophers, among many other wonderful discoveries, pretend to have found out, that there is no such passion in the human breast.

      1

      Whenever this word occurs in our writings, it intends persons without virtue or sense, in all stations; and many of the highest rank are often meant by it.

      2

      The English reader will not find this in the poem; for the sentiment is entirely left out in the translation.

      3

      This is the second person of low condition whom we have recorded in this history to have sprung from the clergy. It is to be hoped such instances will, in future ages, when some provision is made for the families of the inferior clergy, appear stranger than they can be thought at present.

      4

      “What modesty or measure can set bounds to our desire of so dear a friend?” The word desiderium here cannot be easily translated.

      It includes our desire of enjoying our friend again, and the grief which attends that desire.

      5

      This is an ambiguous phrase, and may mean either a forest well cloathed with wood, or well stript of it.