Tom Jones Page #3

to these, you must be happy.

Pounds. 1,000 I leave to you, Mr Thwackum,

and a like sum to you, Mr Square -

which I am convinced exceeds

your desires as well as your wants.

As for my servants,

for Marjorie and Jane, Pounds. 100 each.

"... my soul shall praise the Lord

even to death,

and my life was drawing

near to hell beneath... "

Mr Allworthy's recovered!

It's over! The fever's gone!

He's sitting up! He's well again!

The squire's recovered!

It's over!

It is not true that drink

changes a man's character.

It can reveal it more clearly.

The Squire's recovery brought joy to Tom,

to his tutors sheer disappointment.

Sing, thick Thwackum,

your bounty's flown...

You have good reason for your

drunkenness, you beggarly bastard!

- He's provided well enough for you!

- Do you think that could weigh with me?

- Damn you, Thwackum!

- How dare you, sir?!

And damn me

if I don't open another bottle.

I shall sing you a ballad, entitled "Sing,

thick Thwackum, thy bounty has flown".

Sing, thick Thwackum,

thy bounty's flown

You've lost all the money

you thought that you'd own...

Mr Jones!

This house is in mourning on account

of the death of my dear mother.

Oh, sir, forgive me.

The joy of Mr Allworthy's recovery...

I had the misfortune

to know who my parents were.

Consequently, I'm grieved by their loss.

You rascal. Do you dare to insult me?

Gentlemen, gentlemen!

This behaviour is most unseemly.

Oh, Master Blifil!

Oh, that vulgar animal! Out with him!

All right, we'll go outside!

Let's have some wine!

Get him out! Get him out!

How dare you throw me out?

Shall we take the evening air?

It is widely held that too much wine

will dull a man's desire.

Indeed it will - in a dull man.

Sophia...

Sophie...

I'll carve her name on this tree!

Tree, do you mind

if I carve the name of my Sophia?

Big S for Sophia... Sophie...

Sophie, Sophia...

So... Molly...

Molly, Molly, Molly, Molly, Molly, Molly...

M for Molly...

Are you aimin' to slit my throat, Squire?

Would you like... a sip of my wine?

Mm.

I never had a sip

of a gentleman's wine before.

Oh, it's very potent!

What are you laughin' at, Tom?

I'm thinking of Square in your bedroom!

To those who find our hero's behaviour

startling, the answer is simple.:

Tom had always thought

that any woman was better than none,

while Molly never felt that one man

was quite as good as two.

- He has a wench!

- A wench?

- Let's go and find the wicked girl.

- Yes!

Who's that?

- How dare you?!

- Thwacky! Ha-ha!

Mr Jones, control yourself!

How disgraceful!

Go away, sir! Go away, sir!

Take that, you wicked fool!

You there! Damnation to you!

Stop it! Stop! What's the matter with you?

Damnation to you! Get over there!

Whoa, there! Three falling onto one?

Whoa! The whip!

Come, lass, see to Tom.

He's in a devilish pickle, I promise you.

Tom... Shh. Poor Tom. Shh.

- Sophie, dear...

- Shh. I'll fetch some water.

- What are you brawling about, Tom?

- If you search the bushes you'll find out.

You lickerish dog, you!

Where is she? Where's Tom's p*ssy?

Puss, puss, puss, puss...

Where's Tom's p*ssy? Puss, puss, puss...

Sophie, I...

Come. After him.

- Sophie!

- Tom. Tom! Come and sup with me.

Gentlemen, let us make our peace

over a bottle.

Sir, it is no slight matter for a man

of my character to be buffeted by a boy

just for trying to bring

a wanton harlot to justice!

The fault lies with Mr Allworthy

and yourself, sir.

If you would put

the right laws into execution,

you would soon rid the country

of these... vermin.

Ha! I'd sooner rid the country of foxes!

Come, you sup with me. Damn me

if there's nothing I wouldn't give you -

except my hounds

and my favourite mare, Miss Slouch.

Up...

Away, Miss Slouch!

Let us tell Mr Allworthy

how the monster has behaved!

No, sirs, I beg of you, let us wait.

A better time will come.

Odds zodikins, it's me sister's coach.

What brings her from London?

I hope the old b*tch has gone to bed.

Come, Sophie, sing us

one of your jolly songs, my girl.

Father, I do not feel well.

I think I shall go to bed.

Not before you attend to your guest.

Tom here has a great thirst, I warrant you.

Western? What are these nocturnal riots?

- Now lookie here, Sister...

- Sophie?

- Yes, Aunt?

- To bed.

- Bed?

- Bed!

I'd be glad to, madam.

Now lookie here, Sister!

Brother, as I am here to stay a while,

I shall sign a peace treaty with you.

Sister, I've often warned you

not to talk that court gibberish to me.

I pity your country ignorance

from my heart.

And I despise your citified claptrap!

I'd rather be anything than a courtier,

or a... or a Presbyterian,

or a crawler around

one of those damned German kings,

as I believe some people are.

If you mean me, I'm a woman of...

Yes, and a good thing for you that you are.

If you were a man, I'd have

lent you a flick long ago!

Brother, I think you are a perfect goat.

Good night, sir.

Good night, Sister.

Brother!

Brother!

Brother!

Oh, stop!

Brother!

Brother, have you not noticed something

very extraordinary about Sophie lately?

Tell me, then. You know I love that girl

more than my own soul.

Well, unless I am deceived,

my niece is desperately in love.

In love?

In love?! Without my consent?!

I'll disinherit her!

I'll cast her out-of-doors

stark naked without a farthing!

Where is she?

Supposing she should have fixed on

the very person you would have wished?

No. No! She can love whom she pleases,

but she'll marry the man I choose!

But she has fixed on the very person

you would have wished!

- What?

- What think you of Mr Blifil?

- Young Blifil?

- Well, who else could there be?

In this rude country and society.

Who else is of her class?

'Fore George...

Nothing could lie handier together

than Allworthy's estates and mine.

Come, Sister.

What do you advise me to do?

I think you should propose the match

to Mr Allworthy... immediately.

I will propose it.

Saddle my horse!

Well, Nephew, how do you feel about this

marriage between you and Miss Western?

- I will do exactly as you wish, Uncle.

- Oh, come, sir.

That is a cold answer when confronted by

the prospect of so beautiful a young lady.

My dear Uncle,

I am well aware of the many pleasures

of that noble institution, marriage,

and I will gladly call upon the young lady

at any time she will receive me.

Good. You shall call upon her

this very afternoon.

Sophie, dear,

what book is that you're reading?

A sad one.

- You blush, my dear Sophie.

- I have no thoughts to be ashamed of.

Now, Sophie, you know how I love you.

You know the easiness of my nature.

I have not always been like this.

I used to be thought cruel -

by the men, I mean.

I was called "the cruel Parthenissa".

Now come.

I have news that will delight you.

What news, Aunt?

This very afternoon your father has

arranged for you to receive your lover.

My lover?

He's coming?! This afternoon?!

Yes. And you're to put on

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