Tom Jones Page #6

you the richest poor woman in the nation.

There's only a gentleman - Mr Jones.

- No lady?

- He has a Mrs Waters with him.

Waters! I'll bet she's usin' a false name!

That cunning wench! By the waters

of the Babylon I shall lay me down...

I'll bet she's lying down beside Mr Jones!

Show me her room!

Now where is she?

Where is that painted Delilah?!

- Down the end there.

- Mrs Fitzpatrick!

- Come on, Mrs Fitzpatrick!

- My husband!

- Your husband?!

- Do you think I don't know his voice?

Discovered, you whore!

Aaargh! Rape! Murder! Rape!

- What is it, lassie?

- A rape's going on down there!

Rape?!

Rape! Murder! Murder!

What is all this?!

Mr MacLachlan, dear friend!

I rejoice to see you here.

- This villain has debauched my wife!

- Your wife? What wife?

Do I not know Mrs Fitzpatrick very well?

And can I not see that the lady in bed with

this gentleman is not your wife at all?!

Rape! Rape! Rape! Rape! Rape!

Girl, what's this hullabaloo?

'Tis Tom Jones, madam,

in bed with Mrs Waters

and discovered by her husband -

an Irish gentleman, madam.

Forgive me - did you say Tom Jones?

Yes, madam - in bed

with that trull Mrs Waters.

Betrayed!

Ma'am, pray forgive

my dastardly intrusion. I...

What the devil is this disturbance?

I thought myself in a respectable inn,

but I see now it's a bawdyhouse!

I have made a mistake.

I was looking for me wife.

These villains burst into me room!

I heartily ask your pardon, ma'am.

I thought you was me wife.

Though I see no reason for a gentleman

to be in a lady's bed in his shirt.

I heard her screams

and ran in from the adjoining chamber.

Adjoining chamber!

It seems I have prevented

the lady being robbed.

- Robbed!

- Robbed? I'll have your blood for that!

- You wild Irishman!

- Rape!

Come on, Sophie, dear. We must fly

before Fitzpatrick discovers me.

Oh, come, pull yourself together, Coz.

We've got a long ride ahead of us.

Help!

Sophie...

Ah, got you, you fox!

Well, the vixen can't be far away!

Goodbye, madam.

I regret I must take my leave of you.

Odds bodikins! After him!

After him! Damnation! After him!

- Oh! There he is!

- Miss Western!

Brother!

Don't be dismayed, sir. She will soon

be tired and will stop in some inn.

- She's bound for London, I'm sure.

- Ah, damn the girl.

I'm lamenting the loss

of such a fine morning for huntin'.

It's confounded hard to lose one

of the finest scentin' days of the season.

Whoa!

Ha!

- Come on, Miss Slouch!

- What are you doing?

Oh!

Dobson, drive on.

Get up, there! Get up!

Stand... and deliver!

Whoa!

- What did you say, sir?

- Stand and deliver!

Deliver? I am no travelling midwife, sir.

Deliver what?

Stand...

I will not stand for you, sir -

no, nor for any man!

- Madam...

- Don't you point that firearm at me, sir!

- Dobson, drive on.

- Get up there!

It is hard when a woman leaves a man

nothing but memories - and a muff.

Your money or your life!

- I only have one guinea, sir.

- Give it here.

As a gentleman of the road

you cut a poor figure.

Be merciful, sir.

I didn't mean any harm. Truly I didn't.

- No harm?

- It isn't loaded.

- Nor it is.

- I'm not a bandit by profession, sir.

Just a poor man down on his luck.

Mine, sir, is a sad story.

The start of my ruin was 20 years ago.

- It was all over one Tom Jones.

- What do you mean?

At that time I was employed

as a barber by a Mr Allworthy.

One day he found a baby

abandoned in his bed.

I was accused of being the father.

- Then your name is...

- Partridge.

Father!

But I do assure you, sir,

there was no truth in the accusation.

- Then who was my father?

- None of us ever discovered.

That was the whole beginning

of my downfall.

Mr Partridge, how can I make up for

the suffering you've had on my account?

Would you take me on

as your servant, sir?

- My companion in misfortune!

- Oh, sir!

Are lodgings cheap in London?

I have no money.

I know an old lady who runs

a lodging house in London.

She was Mr Allworthy's cook

when I was his barber.

No friend of Mr Allworthy's

will speak to me.

Mrs Miller is one

of the kindest ladies I know.

Who knows? She may

get you back in his favour.

Here, you're a lovely boy.

Are you going to stay?

Good day.

No. No, thank you.

Desperate to find his Sophie,

Tom called on Mrs Fitzpatrick,

who was entertaining a certain Lady

Bellaston - the notorious Lady Bellaston.

It's the handsome young gentleman again,

madam, inquiring for Miss Western.

You see, Bella, how persistent he is.

His servant discovered this address,

and ever since he persecutes us.

Send him away, Abigail.

Tell him Miss Western is no longer here.

Bella, you must let Sophie

come and stay with you.

My protector is coming back, and I fear he

may take too much interest in my cousin.

Oh, Harriet, you can always rely on me.

Your little maid is obviously in the right.

He's a very pretty fellow. No wonder

so many women are fond of him.

Harriet, we must do

what we can for Sophie.

The girl is obviously intoxicated, and

nothing less than ruin will content her.

I'm absolutely certain Sophie

was at Mrs Fitzpatrick's when I called.

Dear Mrs Miller, what am I to do?

No friends, no money,

I know nothing of London...

You're not to worry about the money.

You can stay here for the moment.

You're very kind, Mrs Miller.

For you, Tom. It's just arrived.

I wonder, what can it be?

What is it?

It's an invitation to a masked ball.

"The Queen of the Fairies sends you this.

Treat her favours not amiss. "

It's Mrs Fitzpatrick, perhaps,

with news of my Sophie.

Or Miss Sophie herself.

Vauxhall Gardens,

where people come to see and to be seen.

In heaps they run, some to undo

and some to be undone.

It's no fun for a man like me

to be dolled up in this damned fruppery!

All folks of fashion are here.

Sophie will be no exception.

Show her to me

and I'll have her arrested!

Arrested! Do you imagine

a woman of stature

can be arrested in a civilised nation?

A pretty civilised nation indeed,

where women are above the law!

Civilisation, my trunk!

Je vous mprise de tout mon coeur.

Now, where can my niece be?

If you engage any longer with that trollop

I shall tell Miss Western.

- Is Sophie here, then, madam?

- Upon my honour, she is not here.

Mrs Fitzpatrick - if you are she - it's a little

cruel to divert yourself at my expense.

And do you imagine, good sir,

I have no better regard for my cousin

than to assist her in carrying on

an affair between you two...

which must end in her ruin?

Madam, that is the last thing I would wish.

If the Queen of the Fairies

had so little regard for you and Sophie,

she would not have appointed

to meet you here.

Confess honestly:

Are you used, Mr Jones,

to make these sudden conquests?

I am used, madam, to submit.

If you take my heart by surprise,

the rest of my body has the right to follow.

I hope you won't follow me.

I protest I shall not know

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes