The parson, who was not only strictly chaste in his own person,
but a great enemy to the opposite vice in all others, fired at this
information. He desired Mr. Blifil to conduct him immediately to the
place, which as he approached he breathed forth vengeance mixed with
lamentations; nor did he refrain from casting some oblique reflections
on Mr. Allworthy; insinuating that the wickedness of the country was
principally owing to the encouragement he had given to vice, by having
exerted such kindness to a bastard, and by having mitigated that
just and wholesome rigour of the law which allots a very severe
punishment to loose wenches.
The way through which our hunters were to pass in pursuit of their
game was so beset with briars, that it greatly obstructed their
walk, and caused besides such a rustling, that Jones had sufficient
warning of their arrival before they could surprize him; nay,
indeed, so incapable was Thwackum of concealing his indignation, and
such vengeance did he utter forth every step he took, that this
alone must have abundantly satisfied Jones that he was (to use the
language of sportsmen) found sitting.
Chapter 11
In which a simile in Mr. Pope's period of a mile introduces as
bloody a battle as can possibly be fought without the assistance of
steel or cold iron
As in the season of rutting (an uncouth phrase, by which the
vulgar denote that gentle dalliance, which in the well-wooded*
forest of Hampshire, passes between lovers of the ferine kind), if,
while the lofty-crested stag meditates the amorous sport, a couple
of puppies, or any other beasts of hostile note, should wander so near
the temple of Venus Ferina that the fair hind should shrink from the
place, touched with that somewhat, either of fear or frolic, of nicety
or skittishness, with which nature hath bedecked all females, or
hath at least instructed them how to put it on; lest, through the
indelicacy of males, the Samean mysteries should be pryed into by
unhallowed eyes: for, at the celebration of these rites, the female
priestess cries out with her in Virgil (who was then, probably, hard
at work on such celebration),
--Procul, o procul este, profani;
Proclamat vates, totoque absistite luco.
--Far hence be souls profane,
The sibyl cry'd, and from the grove abstain.
DRYDEN
If, I say, while these sacred rites, which are in common to genus omne
animantium, are in agitation between the stag and his mistress, any
hostile beasts should venture too near, on the first hint given by the
frighted hind, fierce and tremendous rushes forth the stag to the
entrance of the thicket; there stands he sentinel over his love,
stamps the ground with his foot, and with his horns brandished aloft
in air, proudly provokes the apprehended foe to combat.
*This is an ambiguous phrase, and may mean either a forest well
cloathed with wood, or well stript of it.
Thus, and more terrible, when he perceived the enemy's approach,
leaped forth our heroe. Many a step advanced he forwards, in order
to conceal the trembling hind, and, if possible, to secure her
retreat. And now Thwackum, having first darted some livid lightning
from his fiery eyes, began to thunder forth, "Fie upon it! Fie upon
it! Mr. Jones. Is it possible you should be the person?"- "You see,"
answered Jones, "it is possible I should be here."- "And who," said
Thwackum, "is that wicked slut with you?"- "If I have any wicked slut
with me," cries Jones, "it is possible I shall not let you know who
she is."- "I command you to tell me immediately," says Thwackum: "and
I would not have you imagine, young man, that your age, though it hath
somewhat abridged the purpose of tuition, hath totally taken away
the authority of the master. The relation of the master and scholar is
indelible; as, indeed, all other relations are; for they all derive
their original from heaven. I would have you think yourself,
therefore, as much obliged to obey me now, as when I taught you your
first rudiments."- "I believe you would," cries Jones; "but that will
not happen, unless you had the same birchen argument to convince
me."- "Then I must tell you plainly," said Thwackum, "I am resolved
to discover the wicked wretch."- "And I must tell you plainly,"
returned Jones, "I am resolved you shall not." Thwackum then offered
to advance, and Jones laid hold of his arms; which Mr. Blifil
endeavoured to rescue, declaring, "he would not see his old master
insulted."
Jones now finding himself engaged with two, thought it necessary
to rid himself of one of his antagonists as soon as possible. He
therefore applied to the weakest first; and, letting the parson go, he
directed a blow at the young squire's breast, which luckily taking
place, reduced him to measure his length on the ground.
Thwackum was so intent on the discovery, that, the moment he found
himself at liberty, he stept forward directly into the fern, without
any great consideration of what might in the meantime befal his
friend; but he had advanced a very few paces into the thicket,
before Jones, having defeated Blifil, overtook the parson, and dragged
him backward by the skirt of his coat.
This parson had been a champion in his youth, and had won much
honour by his fist, both at school and at the university. He had now
indeed, for a great number of years, declined the practice of that
noble art; yet was his courage full as strong as his faith, and his
body no less strong than either. He was moreover, as the reader may
perhaps have conceived, somewhat irascible in his nature. When he
looked back, therefore, and saw his friend stretched out on the
ground, and found himself at the same time so roughly handled by one
who had formerly been only passive in all conflicts between them (a
circumstance which highly aggravated the whole), his patience at
length gave way; he threw himself into a posture of offence; and
collecting all his force, attacked Jones in the front with as much
impetuosity as he had formerly attacked him in the rear.
Our heroe received the enemy's attack with the most undaunted
intrepidity, and his bosom resounded with the blow. This he
presently returned with no less violence, aiming likewise at the
parson's breast; but he dexterously drove down the fist of Jones, so
that it reached only his belly, where two pounds of beef and as many
of pudding were then deposited, and whence consequently no hollow
sound could proceed. Many lusty blows, much more pleasant as well as
easy to have seen, than to read or describe, were given on both sides:
at last a violent fall, in which Jones had thrown his knees into
Thwackum's breast, so weakened the latter, that victory had been no
longer dubious, had not Blifil, who had now recovered his strength,
again renewed the fight, and by engaging with Jones, given the
parson a moment's time to shake his ears, and to regain his breath.
And now both together attacked our heroe, whose blows did not retain
that force with which they had fallen at first, so weakened was he
by his combat with Thwackum; for though the pedagogue chose rather
to play solos on the human instrument, and had been lately used to
those only, yet he still retained enough of his antient knowledge to
perform his part very well in a duet.
The victory, according to modern custom, was like to be decided by
numbers, when, on a sudden, a fourth pair of fists appeared in the
battle, and immediately paid their compliments to the parson; and
the owner of them at the same time crying out, "Are not you ashamed,
and be d--n'd to you, to fall two of you upon one?"
The battle, which was of the kind that for distinction's sake is
called royal, now raged with the utmost violence during a few minutes;
till Blifil being a second time laid sprawling by Jones, Thwackum
condescended to apply for quarter to his new antagonist, who was now
found to be Mr. Western himself; for in the heat of the action none of
the combatants had recognized him.
In fact, that honest squire, happening, in his afternoon's walk with
some company, to pass through the field where the bloody battle was
fought, and having concluded, from seeing three men engaged, that
two of them must be on a side, he hastened from his companions, and
with more gallantry than policy, espoused the cause of the weaker
party. By which generous proceeding he very probably prevented Mr.
Jones from becoming a victim to the wrath of Thwackum, and to the
pious friendship which Blifil bore his old master; for, besides the
disadvantage of such odds, Jones had not yet sufficiently recovered
the former strength of his broken arm. This reinforcement, however,
soon put an end to the action, and Jones with his ally obtained the
victory.
Chapter 12
In which is seen a more moving spectacle than all the blood in the
bodies of Thwackum and Blifil, and of twenty other such, is capable of
producing
The rest of Mr. Western's company were now come up, being just at
the instant when the action was over. These were the honest clergyman,
whom we have formerly seen at Mr. Western's table; Mrs. Western, the
aunt of Sophia; and lastly, the lovely Sophia herself.
At this time, the following was the aspect of the bloody field. In
one place lay on the ground, all pale, and almost breathless, the
vanquished Blifil. Near him stood the conqueror Jones, almost
covered with blood, part of which was naturally his own, and part
had been lately the property of the Reverend Mr. Thwackum. In a
third place stood the said Thwackum, like King Porus, sullenly
submitting to the conqueror. The last figure in the piece was
Western the Great, most gloriously forbearing the vanquished foe.
Blifil, in whom there was little sign of life, was at first the
principal object of the concern of every one, and particularly of Mrs.
Western, who had drawn from her pocket a bottle of hartshorn, and
was herself about to apply it to his nostrils, when on a sudden the
attention of the whole company was diverted from poor Blifil, whose
spirit, if it had any such design, might have now taken an opportunity
of stealing off to the other world, without any ceremony.
For now a more melancholy and a more lovely object lay motionless
before them. This was no other than the charming Sophia herself,
who, from the sight of blood, or from fear for her father, or from
some other reason, had fallen down in a swoon, before any one could
get to her assistance.
Mrs. Western first saw her and screamed. Immediately two or three
voices cried out, "Miss Western is dead." Hartshorn, water, every
remedy was called for, almost at one and the same instant.
The reader may remember, that in our description of this grove we
mentioned a murmuring brook, which brook did not come there, as such
gentle streams flow through vulgar romances, with no other purpose
than to murmur. No! Fortune had decreed to ennoble this little brook
with a higher honour than any of those which wash the plains of
Arcadia ever deserved.
Jones was rubbing Blifil's temples, for he began to fear he had
given him a blow too much, when the words, Miss Western and Dead,
rushed at once on his ear. He started up, left Blifil to his fate, and
flew to Sophia, whom, while all the rest were running against each
other, backward and forward, looking for water in the dry paths, he
caught up in his arms, and then ran away with her over the field to
the rivulet above mentioned; where, plunging himself into the water,
he contrived to besprinkle her face, head, and neck very plentifully.
Happy was it for Sophia that the same confusion which prevented
her other friends from serving her, prevented them likewise from
obstructing Jones. He had carried her half ways before they knew
what he was doing, and he had actually restored her to life before
they reached the waterside. She stretched our her arms, opened her
eyes, and cried, "Oh! heavens!" just as her father, aunt, and the
parson came up.
Jones, who had hitherto held this lovely burthen in his arms, now
relinquished his hold; but gave her at the same instant a tender
caress, which, had her senses been then perfectly restored, could
not have escaped her observation. As she expressed, therefore, no
displeasure at this freedom, we suppose she was not sufficiently
recovered from her swoon at the time.
This tragical scene was now converted into a sudden scene of joy. In
this our heroe was certainly the principal character; for as he
probably felt more ecstatic delight in having saved Sophia than she
herself received from being saved, so neither were the congratulations
paid to her equal to what were conferred on Jones, especially by Mr.
Western himself, who, after having once or twice embraced his
daughter, fell to hugging and kissing Jones. He called him the
preserver of Sophia, and declared there was nothing, except her, or
his estate, which he would not give him; but upon recollection, he
afterwards excepied his fox-hounds, the Chevalier, and Miss Slouch
(for so he called his favourite mare).
All fears for Sophia being now removed, Jones became the object of
the squire's consideration.- "Come, my lad," says Western, "d'off thy
quoat and wash thy feace; for att in a devilish pickle, I promise
thee. Come, come, wash thyself, and shat go huome with me; and we'l
zee to vind thee another quoat."
Jones immediately complied, threw off his coat, went down to the
water, and washed both his face and bosom; for the latter was as
much exposed and as bloody as the former. But though the water could
clear off the blood, it could not remove the black and blue marks
which Thwackum had imprinted on both his face and breast, and which,
being discerned by Sophia, drew from her a sigh and a look full of
