4. CHAPTER IV.
An extraordinary scene between Sophia and her aunt
The lowing heifer and the bleating ewe, in herds and flocks, may
ramble safe and unregarded through the pastures. These are, indeed,
hereafter doomed to be the prey of man; yet many years are they
suffered to enjoy their liberty undisturbed. But if a plump doe be
discovered to have escaped from the forest, and to repose herself in
some field or grove, the whole parish is presently alarmed, every
man is ready to set dogs after her; and, if she is preserved from
the rest by the good squire, it is only that he may secure her for his
own eating.
I have often considered a very fine young woman of fortune and
fashion, when first found strayed from the pale of her nursery, to
be in pretty much the same situation with this doe. The town is
immediately in an uproar; she is hunted from park to play, from
court to assembly, from assembly to her own chamber, and rarely
escapes a single season from the jaws of some devourer or other;
for, if her friends protect her from some, it is only to deliver her
over to one of their own chusing, often more disagreeable to her than any
of the rest; while whole herds or flocks of other women securely,
and scarce regarded, traverse the park, the play, the opera, and the
assembly; and though, for the most part at least, they are at last
devoured, yet for a long time do they wanton in liberty, without
disturbance or controul.
Of all these paragons none ever tasted more of this persecution than
poor Sophia. Her ill stars were not contented with all that she had
suffered on account of Blifil, they now raised her another pursuer,
who seemed likely to torment her no less than the other had done.
For though her aunt was less violent, she was no less assiduous in
teizing her, than her father had been before.
The servants were no sooner departed after dinner, than Mrs.
Western, who had opened the matter to Sophia, informed her, "That
she expected his lordship that very afternoon, and intended to take
the first opportunity of leaving her alone with him." "If you do,
madam," answered Sophia, with some spirit, "I shall take the first
opportunity of leaving him by himself." "How! madam!" cries the
aunt; "is this the return you make me for my kindness in relieving you
from your confinement at your father's?" "You know, madam," said
Sophia, "the cause of that confinement was a refusal to comply with my
father in accepting a man I detested, and will my dear aunt, who
hath relieved me from that distress, involve me in another equally
bad?" "And do you think then, madam," answered Mrs. Western, "that
there is no difference between my Lord Fellamar and Mr. Blifil?" "Very
little, in my opinion," cries Sophia; "and, if I must be condemned
to one, I would certainly have the merit of sacrificing myself to my
father's pleasure." "Then my pleasure, I find," said the aunt, "hath
very little weight with you; but that consideration shall not move me.
I act from nobler motives. The view of aggrandizing my family, of
ennobling yourself, is what I proceed upon. Have you no sense of
ambition? Are there no charms in the thoughts of having a coronet on
your coach?" "None, upon my honour," said Sophia. "A pincushion upon
my coach would please me just as well." "Never mention honour,"
cries the aunt. "It becomes not the mouth of such a wretch. I am
sorry, niece, you force me to use these words, but I cannot bear
your groveling temper; you have none of the blood of the Westerns in
you. But, however mean and base your own ideas are, you shall bring no
imputation on mine. I will never suffer the world to say of me that
I encouraged you in refusing one of the best matches in England; a
match which, besides its advantage in fortune, would do honour to
almost any family, and hath, indeed, in title, the advantage of ours."
"Surely," says Sophia, "I am born deficient, and have not the senses
with which other people are blessed; there must be certainly some
sense which can relish the delights of sound and show, which I have
not; for surely mankind would not labour so much, nor sacrifice so
much for the obtaining, nor would they be so elate and proud with
possessing, what appeared to them, as it doth to me, the most
insignificant of all trifles."
"No, no, miss," cries the aunt; "you are born with as many senses as
other people; but I assure you, you are not born with a sufficient
understanding to make a fool of me, or to expose my conduct to the
world; so I declare this to you, upon my word, and you know, I
believe, how fixed my resolutions are, unless you agree to see his
lordship this afternoon, I will, with my own hands, deliver you
to-morrow morning to my brother, and will never henceforth interfere
with you, nor see your face again." Sophia stood a few moments
silent after this speech, which was uttered in a most angry and
peremptory tone; and then, bursting into tears, she cryed, "Do with
me, madam, whatever you please; I am the most miserable undone
wretch upon earth; if my dear aunt forsakes me, where shall I look for
a protector?" "My dear niece," cries she, "you will have a very good
protector in his lordship; a protector whom nothing but a hankering
after that vile fellow Jones can make you decline." "Indeed, madam,"
said Sophia, "you wrong me. How can you imagine, after what you have
shewn me, if I had ever any such thoughts, that I should not banish
them for ever? If it will satisfy you, I will receive the sacrament
upon it never to see his face again." "But, child, dear child," said
the aunt, "be reasonable; can you invent a single objection?" "I
have already, I think, told you a sufficient objection," answered
Sophia. "What?" cries the aunt; "I remember none." "Sure, madam," said
Sophia, "I told you he had used me in the rudest and vilest manner."
"Indeed, child," answered she, "I never heard you, or did not
understand you:- but what do you mean by this rude, vile manner?"
"Indeed, madam, said Sophia, "I am almost ashamed to tell you. He
caught me in his arms, pulled me down upon the settee, and thrust
his hand into my bosom, and kissed it with such violence that I have
the mark upon my left breast at this moment." "Indeed!" said Mrs.
Western. "Yes, indeed, madam," answered Sophia; "my father luckily
came in at that instant, or Heaven knows what rudeness he intended
to have proceeded to." "I am astonished and confounded," cries the
aunt. "No woman of the name of Western hath been ever treated so since
we were a family. I would have torn the eyes of a prince out, if he
had attempted such freedoms with me. It is impossible! sure, Sophia,
you must invent this to raise my indignation against him." "I hope,
madam," said Sophia, "you have too good an opinion of me to imagine me
capable of telling an untruth. Upon my soul it is true." "I should
have stabbed him to the heart, had I been present," returned the aunt.
"Yet surely he could have no dishonourable design; it is impossible!
he durst not: besides, his proposals shew he hath not; for they are
not only honourable, but generous. I don't know; the age allows too
great freedoms. A distant salute is all I would have allowed before
the ceremony. I have had lovers formerly, not so long ago neither;
several lovers, though I never would consent to marriage, and I
never encouraged the least freedom. It is a foolish custom, and what I
never would agree to. No man kissed more of me than my cheek. It is as
much as one can bring oneself to give lips up to a husband; and,
indeed, could I ever have been persuaded to marry, I believe I
should not have soon been brought to endure so much." "You will pardon
me, dear madam," said Sophia, "if I make one observation: you own
you have had many lovers, and the world knows it, even if you should
deny it. You refused them all, and, I am convinced, one coronet at
least among them." "You say true, dear Sophy," answered she; "I had
once the offer of a title." "Why, then," said Sophia, "will you not
suffer me to refuse this once?" "It is true, child," said she, "I
have refused the offer of a title; but it was not so good an offer;
that is, not so very, very good an offer."- "Yes, madam," said
Sophia; "but you have had very great proposals from men of vast
fortunes. It was not the first, nor the second, nor the third
advantageous match that offered itself." "I own it was not," said she.
"Well, madam," continued Sophia, "and why may not I expect to have a
second, perhaps, better than this? You are now but a young woman,
and I am convinced would not promise to yield to the first lover of
fortune, nay, or of title too. I am a very young woman, and sure I
need not despair." "Well, my dear, dear Sophy," cries the aunt,
"what would you have me say?" "Why, I only beg that I may not be
left alone, at least this evening; grant me that, and I will submit,
if you think, after what is past, I ought to see him in your company."
"Well, I will grant it," cries the aunt. "Sophy, you know I love
you, and can deny you nothing. You know the easiness of my nature; I
have not always been so easy. I have been formerly thought cruel; by
the men, I mean. I was called the cruel Parthenissa. I have broke many
a window that has had verses to the cruel Parthenissa in it. Sophy,
I was never so handsome as you, and yet I had something of you
formerly. I am a little altered. Kingdoms and states, as Tully
Cicero says in his epistles, undergo alterations, and so must the
human form." Thus run she on for near half an hour upon herself, and
her conquests, and her cruelty, till the arrival of my lord, who,
after a most tedious visit, during which Mrs. Western never once
offered to leave the room, retired, not much more satisfied with the
aunt than with the niece; for Sophia had brought her aunt into so
excellent a temper, that she consented to almost everything her
niece said; and agreed that a little distant behaviour might not be
improper to so forward a lover.
Thus Sophia, by a little well-directed flattery, for which surely
none will blame her, obtained a little ease for herself, and, at
least, put off the evil day. And now we have seen our heroine in a
better situation than she hath been for a long time before, we will
look a little after Mr. Jones, whom we left in the most deplorable
situation that can be well imagined.