your very soul. Make me your confident, and I will undertake you shall
be happy to the very extent of your wishes." "La, madam," says Sophia,
looking more foolishly than ever she did in her life, "I know not what
to say- why, madam, should you suspect?"- "Nay, no dishonesty,"
returned Mrs. Western. "Consider, you are speaking to one of your own
sex, to an aunt, and I hope you are convinced you speak to a friend.
Consider, you are only revealing to me what I know already, and what I
plainly saw yesterday, through that most artful of all disguises,
which you had put on, and which must have deceived any one who had not
perfectly known the world. Lastly, consider it is a passion which I
highly approve." "La, madam," says Sophia, "you come upon one so
unawares, and on a sudden. To be sure, madam, I am not blind- and
certainly, if it be a fault to see all human perfections assembled
together- but is it possible my father and you, madam, can see with my
eyes?" "I tell you," answered the aunt, "we do entirely approve; and
this very afternoon your father hath appointed for you to receive your
lover." "My father, this afternoon!" cries Sophia, with the blood
starting from her face.- "Yes, child," said the aunt, "this afternoon.
You know the impetuosity of my brother's temper. I acquainted him with
the passion which I first discovered in you that evening when you
fainted away in the field. I saw it in your fainting. I saw it
immediately upon your recovery. I saw it that evening at supper, and
the next morning at breakfast (you know, child, I have seen the
world). Well, I no sooner acquainted my brother, but he immediately
wanted to propose it to Allworthy. He proposed it yesterday, Allworthy
consented (as to be sure he must with joy), and this afternoon, I tell
you, you are to put on all your best airs." "This afternoon!" cries
Sophia. "Dear aunt, you frighten me out of my senses." "O, my dear,"
said the aunt, "you will soon come to yourself again; for he is a
charming young fellow, that's the truth on't." "Nay, I will own," says
Sophia, "I know none with such perfections. So brave, and yet so
gentle; so witty, yet so inoffensive; so humane, so civil, so genteel,
so handsome! What signifies his being base born, when compared with
such qualifications as these?" "Base born? What do you mean?" said the
aunt, "Mr. Blifil base born!" Sophia turned instantly pale at this
name, and faintly repeated it. Upon which the aunt cried, "Mr.
Blifil- ay, Mr. Blifil, of whom else have we been talking?" "Good
heavens," answered Sophia, ready to sink, "of Mr. Jones, I thought;
I am sure I know no other who deserves-" "I protest," cries the
aunt, "you frighten me in your turn. Is it Mr. Jones, and not Mr.
Blifil, who is the object of your affection?" "Mr. Blifil!" repeated
Sophia. "Sure it is impossible you can be in earnest; if you are, I am
the most miserable woman alive." Mrs. Western now stood a few
moments silent, while sparks of fiery rage flashed from her eyes. At
length, collecting all her force of voice, she thundered forth in
the following articulate sounds:
"And is it possible you can think of disgracing your family by
allying yourself to a bastard? Can the blood of the Westerns submit to
such contamination? If you have not sense sufficient to restrain
such monstrous inclinations, I thought the pride of our family would
have prevented you from giving the least encouragement to so base an
affection; much less did I imagine you would ever have had the
assurance to own it to my face."
"Madam," answered Sophia, trembling, "what I have said you have
extorted from me. I do not remember to have ever mentioned the name of
Mr. Jones with approbation to any one before; nor should I now had I
not conceived he had your approbation. Whatever were my thoughts of
that poor, unhappy young man, I intended to have carried them with
me to my grave- to that grave where only now, I find, I am to seek
repose." Here she sunk down in her chair, drowned in her tears, and,
in all the moving silence of unutterable grief, presented a
spectacle which must have affected almost the hardest heart.
All this tender sorrow, however, raised no compassion in her aunt.
On the contrary, she now fell into the most violent rage.- "And I
would rather," she cried, in a most vehement voice, "follow you to
your grave, than I would see you disgrace yourself and your family by
such a match. O Heavens! could I have ever suspected that I should
live to hear a niece of mine declare a passion for such a fellow?
You are the first- yes, Miss Western, you are the first of your name
who ever entertained so grovelling a thought. A family so noted for
the prudence of its women"- here she ran on a full quarter of an
hour, till, having exhausted her breath rather than her rage, she
concluded with threatening to go immediately and acquaint her brother.
Sophia then threw herself at her feet, and laying hold of her hands,
begged her with tears to conceal what she had drawn from her; urging
the violence of her father's temper, and protesting that no
inclinations of hers should ever prevail with her to do anything which
might offend him.
Mrs. Western stood a moment looking at her, and then, having
recollected herself, said, "That on one consideration only she would
keep the secret from her brother; and this was, that Sophia should
promise to entertain Mr. Blifil that very afternoon as her lover,
and to regard him as the person who was to be her husband."
Poor Sophia was too much in her aunt's power to deny her anything
positively; she was obliged to promise that she would see Mr.
Blifil, and be as civil to him as possible; but begged her aunt that
the match might not be hurried on. She said, "Mr. Blifil was by no
means agreeable to her, and she hoped her father would be prevailed on
not to make her the most wretched of women."
Mrs. Western assured her, "That the match was entirely agreed
upon, and that nothing could or should prevent it. I must own," said
she, "I looked on it as on a matter of indifference; nay, perhaps, had
some scruples about it before, which were actually got over by my
thinking it highly agreeable to your own inclinations; but now I
regard it as the most eligible thing in the world: nor shall there be,
if I can prevent it, a moment of time lost on the occasion."
Sophia replied, "Delay at least, madam, I may expect from both
your goodness and my father's. Surely you will give me time to
endeavour to get the better of so strong a disinclination as I have at
present to this person."
The aunt answered, "She knew too much of the world to be so
deceived; that as she was sensible another man had her affections, she
should persuade Mr. Western to hasten the match as much as possible.
It would be bad politics, indeed," added she, "to protract a siege
when the enemy's army is at hand, and in danger of relieving it. No,
no, Sophy," said she, "as I am convinced you have a violent passion
which you can never satisfy with honour, I will do all I can to put
your honour out of the care of your family: for when you are married
those matters will belong only to the consideration of your husband. I
hope, child, you will always have prudence enough to act as becomes
you; but if you should not, marriage hath saved many a woman from
ruin."
Sophia well understood what her aunt meant; but did not think proper
to make her an answer. However, she took a resolution to see Mr.
Blifil, and to behave to him as civilly as she could, for on that
condition only she obtained a promise from her aunt to keep secret the
liking which her ill fortune, rather than any scheme of Mrs.
Western, had unhappily drawn from her.
Chapter 6
Containing a dialogue between Sophia and Mrs. Honour, which may a
little relieve those tender affections which the foregoing scene may
have raised in the mind of a good-natured reader
Mrs. Western having obtained that promise from her niece which we
have seen in the last chapter, withdrew; and presently after arrived
Mrs. Honour. She was at work in a neighbouring apartment, and had been
summoned to the keyhole by some vociferation in the preceding
dialogue, where she had continued during the remaining part of it.
At her entry into the room, she found Sophia standing motionless, with
the tears trickling from her eyes. Upon which she immediately
ordered a proper quantity of tears into her own eyes, and then
began, "O Gemini, my dear lady, what is the matter?"- "Nothing,"
cries Sophia. "Nothing! O dear madam!" answers Honour, "you must not
tell me that, when your ladyship is in this taking, and when there
hath been such a preamble between your ladyship and Madam Western."-
"Don't teaze me," cries Sophia; "I tell you nothing is the matter.
Good heavens! why was I born?"- "Nay, madam," says Mrs. Honour, "you
shall never persuade me that your la'ship can lament yourself so for
nothing. To be sure I am but a servant; but to be sure I have been
always faithful to your la'ship, and to be sure I would serve your
la'ship with my life."- "My dear Honour," says Sophia, "'tis not in
thy power to be of any service to me. I am irretrievably undone."-
"Heaven forbid!" answered the waiting-woman; "but if I can't be of any
service to you, pray tell me, madam- it will be some comfort to me to
know- pray, dear ma'am, tell me what's the matter."- "My father,"
cries Sophia, "is going to marry me to a man I both despise and
hate."- "O dear, ma'am," answered the other, "who is this wicked man?
for to be sure he is very bad, or your la'ship would not despise
him."- "His name is poison to my tongue," replied Sophia: "thou wilt
know it too soon." Indeed, to confess the truth, she knew it already,
and therefore was not very inquisitive as to that point. She then
proceeded thus: "I don't pretend to give your la'ship advice, whereof
your la'ship knows much better than I can pretend to, being but a
servant; but, ifackins! no father in England should marry me against
my consent. And, to be sure, the 'squire is so good, that if he did
but know your la'ship despises and hates the young man, to be sure he
would not desire you to marry him. And if your la'ship would but give
me leave to tell my master so. To be sure, it would be more properer
to come from your own mouth; but as your la'ship doth not care to foul
your tongue with his nasty name-" - "You are mistaken, Honour," says
Sophia; "my father was determined before he ever thought fit to
mention it to me."- "More shame for him," cries Honour: "you are to go
to bed to him, and not master: and thof a man may be a very proper
man, yet every woman mayn't think him handsome alike. I am sure my
master would never act in this manner of his own head. I wish some
people would trouble themselves only with what belongs to them; they
would not, I believe, like to be served so, if it was their own case;
for though I am a maid, I can easily believe as how all men are not
equally agreeable. And what signifies your la'ship having so great a
fortune, if you can't please yourself with the man you think most
handsomest? Well, I say nothing; but to be sure it is a pity some
folks had not been better born; nay, as for that matter, I should not
mind it myself; but then there is not so much money; and what of that?
your la'ship hath money enough for both; and where can your la'ship
bestow your fortune better? for to be sure every one must allow that
he is the most handsomest, charmingest, finest, tallest, properest man
in the world."- "What do you mean by running on in this manner to me?"
cries Sophia, with a very grave countenance. "Have I ever given any
encouragement for these liberties?"- "Nay, ma'am, I ask pardon; I
meant no harm," answered she; "but to be sure the poor gentleman hath
run in my head ever since I saw him this morning. To be sure, if your
la'ship had but seen him just now, you must have pitied him. Poor
gentleman! I wishes some misfortune hath not happened to him; for he
hath been walking about with his arms across, and looking so
melancholy, all this morning: I vow and protest it made me almost cry
to see him."- "To see whom?" says Sophia. "Poor Mr. Jones," answered
Honour. "See him! why, where did you see him?" cries Sophia, "By the
canal, ma'am," says Honour. "There he hath been walking all this
morning, and at last there he laid himself down: I believe he lies
there still. To be sure, if it had not been for my modesty, being a
maid, as I am, I should have gone and spoke to him. Do, ma'am, let me
go and see, only for a fancy, whether he is there still."- "Pugh!"
says Sophia. "There! no, no: what should he do there? He is gone
before this time, to be sure. Besides, why- what- why should you go to
see? besides, I want you for something else. Go, fetch me my hat and
gloves. I shall walk with my aunt in the grove before dinner." Honour
did immediately as she was bid, and Sophia put her hat on; when,
looking in the glass, she fancied the ribbon with which her hat was
tied did not become her, and so sent her maid back again for a ribbon
of a different colour; and then giving Mrs. Honour repeated charges
not to leave her work on any account, as she said it was in violent
haste, and must be finished that very day, she muttered something more
