Tom Jones Page #4

all your best airs.

Why, Aunt!

You almost frighten me out of my senses!

You will come to yourself again.

He's a charming young fellow.

Dear, dear Aunt... I know

none of such perfections.

So brave, and yet so gentle.

So handsome.

What matters his being baseborn?

Baseborn? What do you mean?

- Mr Blifil, baseborn?

- Mr Blifil?

Mr Blifil. Of whom else

have we been talking?

- Why, Mr Jones!

- Mr Jones?!

Mr Blifil?! You can't be in earnest!

Oh, then I am

the most unhappy woman alive.

How can you think of disgracing your

family by allying yourself to a... bastard?

Madam, you have extorted this from me.

Whatever were my thoughts

of that poor, unhappy Mr Jones,

I had intended to carry them to the grave.

I would rather follow you to that grave

than see you disgrace us

by such a match!

Yes! Yes!

No, no, no, no, no!

I will not marry that idiot!

To force me to do so would be to kill me!

Then die and be damned!

Damn me! What a misery it is

to have daughters,

when a man has a good mare and dogs.

Tom, that pig-headed hussy

dares to refuse to marry Mr Blifil.

I'll turn her penniless out-of-doors

if she doesn't!

Go to her, lad, and see what you can do.

Sophie! Sophie!

- Sophie!

- Sophie!

No! No! No, no! No!

- Sophie!

- Brother! Brother!

Sophie!

Sophie... Sophie...

Sophie, Sophie... Shh.

My dearest, promise

you won't give yourself to Blifil.

- Don't say that name to me!

- Tell me, tell me I may hope!

Tom, you must go.

- Sophie, please...

- Or you'll be destroyed.

The only destruction I fear is the loss

of my Sophie. I cannot part with you.

Can't I make you understand,

you country clot?

Tom Jones?

Damnation!

Where is he? That parasite!

That home-wrecker! Where is he?

There they are!

Tom, you must go. Quick, Tom, quick.

Run, Tom, run!

Come back here!

- I'll get thee if I hang for it!

- Tom, run!

- Sophie, please!

- Run, Tom!

You there! Allworthy!

- A fine piece of work you've done!

- What can be the matter, Mr Western?

My daughter has fallen in love

with your bastard!

That's what comes of trying

to raise a bastard as a gentleman,

and letting him go visiting

to nice folks' houses.

- I'm sorry to hear you say this.

- A pox on your sorrow!

I've lost my only daughter.

My poor Sophie, the joy of my heart.

Little did I think,

when I loved him as a sportsman,

that he was all the while

a- poaching my daughter!

I wish you had not given him

so many opportunities with her.

What the devil did she

have to do with him?

He came a-huntin' with me,

not a-courtin' to her!

What are we to do, Mr Western?

Keep the rascal away from my house

until I lock the wench up.

I'll make her marry Mr Blifil here

if it's the last thing I do.

I'll have no other son-in-law but you.

So go to her, you jolly dog, you.

I tell you, you shall have her.

And as for that son-of-a-whore Jones,

if I catch him anywhere near my gal,

I'll qualify him to run

for the Gelding's Plate!

Come on, Miss Slouch, come on.

Even the best of horsemen

should avoid the bottle.

However, the forces of sobriety

were gathering in all their strength

against our hero.

We draw your attention

to the abominable behaviour of Mr Jones.

He is a monster of depravity and should

be expelled from your house this instant.

You let her out of her room

after I locked her in?

Women are convinced

by reason, not by force.

I am in the wrong!

As soon as she came back

to live with you, Brother,

she imbibed these romantic notions.

You don't imagine, do you,

that I taught her such things?

Your ignorance, Brother, as the great

Milton says, almost subdues my patience.

Damn Milton!

If he had the impudence to be here

and say it to my face, I'd lend him a flick.

Come on, my girl.

He was, according to the vulgar phrase,

whistle drunk.

On the very day of your utmost danger, he

filled the house with riot and debauchery.

And he even struck Master Blifil.

How?! Did he dare strike you?

Oh, Uncle, I'm sure

I've forgiven him for that long ago.

But the same evening

we unluckily saw him... with a girl...

in a manner not fit to be mentioned.

Mr Thwackum advanced to rebuke him

when, I am sorry to say,

he fell upon the worthy man

and beat him outrageously.

Tell me, child, what objection

can you have to the young gentleman?

A very solid objection, in my opinion -

I hate him.

Well, I have known many couples

who have entirely disliked each other

lead very comfortable, genteel lives.

Madam, I assure you,

I shall never marry a man I detest.

I still believe the young man

to have a few redeeming graces.

Some of the crimes you accuse him of

sprang from his mistaken compassion

for the gamekeeper and his family.

Compassion, sir? Lust!

All his gifts, his so-called generosity,

were merely bribes

to debauch another innocent.

As you know, the unfortunate Molly...

Miss Sophie Western

will be the next to be undone.

All this I would have revealed long ago,

had not Master Blifil begged me

to give him another chance.

Send him to me.

Tom, I have forgiven you

too often in the past

out of compassion for your youth

and in hope of your improvement.

You must leave my house for ever.

However, I have educated you

like my own child

and would not turn you naked

into this world.

Here is something which will enable you,

with industry, to get a good employment.

Goodbye, Tom.

Goodbye, sir.

Goodbye, sir.

Stay, boy. Stay.

Mr Allworthy is very sensible

of the many advantages

of binding our two estates together.

Indeed?

I had not realised Mr Allworthy was

so interested in questions of property.

Oh, he is.

And you?

I? Well, naturally my attentions

are set constantly

on those most blissful and sanctified

pleasures of holy matrimony.

Clandestine amours so soon, Mr Blifil?

I pray you, Aunt, excuse me.

I feel a little... faint.

The fox, Mr Blifil, the fox.

Tally-ho!

It is you who have taught her

disobedience, Brother.

You are such a boor!

Boar? I am no boar! No! Nor ass!

Ah, more-than-gothic ignorance!

As for your manners, they deserve a cane!

And yours I despise

as much as I do a fart!

And as for your niece, I'm going

to lock her up in my tower this time!

You'll do nothing of the sort!

- Honor, promise to keep your word.

- I can't, madam. I'm frightened. I can't.

- I'm frightened, madam.

- Aaargh! Aaargh!

Got you, my girl! Come on!

Come on. You won't get out this time,

I warrant you!

Our hero was now on the road to London.

His first adventure was with a party

of those men whose profligate ways

could be conducted with safety

only under the protection of red coats.

Good day, gentlemen.

Which way are you heading?

- North, to fight for the Protestant cause.

- Against Prince Charles?

Those damned Scots

are already on their way to England.

I've been walking all day and I'm hungry.

May I buy some food and drink?

- Right, give him some.

- Thank you, Sergeant.

- Good day, Captain.

- Good day.

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