All language subtitles for Tom.Jones.1963.1080p.BluRay.x264-[YTS.AM]

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IN THE WEST OF ENGLAND
THERE WAS ONCE A SQUIRE ALLWORTHY.

AFTER SEVERAL MONTHS IN LONDON
HE RETURNS HOME.

HIS SISTER, BRIDGET.

HIS SERVANTS.

AFTER SUPPER.

MRS. WILKINS!

A BABY!
ABANDONED!

HOW DID IT GET HERE?

WHO CAN THE MOTHER BE?

JENNY JONES!

WHO IS THE FATHER, JENNY?

SEND FOR PARTRIDGE,
THE BARBER!

PARTRIDGE, THE BARBER,
THE FATHER?

I WILL DEAL WITH
YOU LATER, SIR!

YOU MUST BE SENT AWAY FROM
THIS SHAME AND DEGRADATION.

AS FOR YOUR CHILD...

I WILL BRING HIM UP AS
IF HE WERE MY OWN SON.

WHAT WILL YOU
CALL HIM, BROTHER?

TOM JONES.

OF WHOM THE OPINION OF ALL WAS
THAT HE WAS BORN TO BE HANGED.

TOM JONES

Our hero grew apace,

a country lad far happier
in the woods than in the study.

A bad hero as may be,
with many a weakness.

But then, if Adam hadn't had
such a weakness for apples,

there would be nobody to tell
Tom's story at all,

and a part of that story

tells of the sport Tom
found in the woods.

Oh, Tom.

You wicked dog.

Molly. What are you doing here?

I heard Father tell Mother
you was coming.

It's a good night to be abroad
and looking for game.

Oh, Tom.

Oh, Tom.

It shall be our custom
to leave such scenes

where taste, decorum,
and the censor dictate.

In this way we shall try to make up
for our incorrigible hero.

As soon as he had left
the disreputable Molly,

what did he do butjoin
her equally disreputable father,

Black George,

gamekeeper to
Squire Allworthy.

Come on.

I hear 'em.
Psst!

Fetch it! Fetch it, boy!

- Come on.
- Wait!

That's fallen on Squire
Western's ground.

- Come on, lads.
- We'll smoke 'em out.

Well, let's after it.

No. I've been warned
for trespassing.

It's our bird.
Don't worry, Blackie.

- Come back, Tom!
- Here, boy.

Here, boy. Here, boy. Good.

All right, you devils!
I'll get you!

I'll have your blood!

- I'll have you out!
- Run, Blackie!

Let's give the old man
a run for his money.

Whee! Whee!

Mr. Thwackum and Mr. Square
were Tom's tutors.

Over the years they tried,
with little success,

to thrash into Tom
a sense of virtue and religion.

They had, however,
a more aptpupil.

Soon after Tom had been found,

the squire's sister, Bridget,
married a Captain Blifil

and they had a son.

This young man
was quite different from Tom.

He was sober, discreet,
and pious beyond his age,

and the whole neighborhood
resounded in his praise.

You have only taught Tom to laugh

at whatever is decent
and virtuous and right.

- I've taught him religion.
- Mr. Thwackum.

The word "religion"
is as vague and uncertain

as any in the English language.

When I mention religion,
I mean the Christian religion.

Not only the Christian religion,
but the Protestant religion.

And not only the Protestant religion,
but the Church of England.

I fear that Tom
is the embodiment of the old truth

that foundlings
should be left to the parish.

My dear tutors, I'm afraid neither of you
can touch his bastard's heart.

Neither, indeed.

But there was
another who could.

- Tom.
- Mmm?

- I want you to help me.
- How?

I want you to get me a post, Tom.

Uh-huh.

Miss Western's come back from France
and'll be wanting a maid.

I'll speak to her.

Tom, you are kind to me.

Miss Western's maid.

Sophie Western! Miss Western!

Why, Tom Jones!

I've brought you a thrush.

It's beautiful, Tom.
How kind of you.

Two years is a long time.

Did they teach you London ways
and make a great lady of you?

Most of the time I was in France.
My aunt took me there.

Ooh-la!
Did you like France, Miss Western?

Mais oui, monsieur.
Je me suis très bien amusée, merci.

- Bon, bon.
- You haven't changed, Tom.

You've grown, Sophie.
Grown more beautiful than ever.

Doesn't he sing beautifully?
I shall teach him some new songs.

I doubt if an English bird
can learn French songs, Miss Western.

You'll see.

Your father asked us all to supper.

I came early to ask if you could help Molly,
Black George's daughter.

Oh, yes. Father told me the story.
He stole a sheep, didn't he?

Black George is a poor man
with big, hungry daughters to feed.

Most hungry. I can vouch for it.

Well, I have a maid already, Tom,
but I'll see if I can do anything.

- Ah, welcome, neighbors!
- Ah, Squire!

- Welcome, welcome.
- How nice to see you.

Welcome, madam.

Look! Tom's bought me a thrush!

Oh, what a sweet little bird.

His song is sweeter
than any tune of Mr. Handel's.

Ah! Handel.

Tom, thank you.

- She'll dote on it well.
- Welcome home, Sophie.

How lovely you're looking, child.

- Aye, it's good to have her home.
- Good day, Miss Western.

Let's all go in to dinner.

Oh, dear.

Don't worry, Sophie.
I'll get it back for you.

Be careful, Tom.

I am sorry to cause you
this distress, Miss Western.

I did not think the
bird would fly away.

But still, I cannot help observing
that the idea of caged birds

is against the laws of nature.

Don't you agree, Mr. Square?

He's got him!

Aah!

Oh!

He'll drown!

- Quick, get him out!
- He's got the bird!

- Help him, someone!
- I've got him!

Come on, lad! Give me your hand!

Damn me if I won't love the boy
for this as long as I have to live.

- Serves him right.
- And you, sir.

Let these be constantly applied.

And then, though we cannot...

- What?
- absolutely promise success,

yet may properly say,
with the apostle,

"What knowest thou, O wife,

whether thou shalt
save thy husband?"

The weeks passed,
and Mollygrew apace too.

"O God, Our Help in Ages Past."

Let dogs delight to
bark and bite,

for God hath made them so.

Let bears and lions
growl and fight,

for 'tis their nature too.

But, ladies, you should never
let such angrypassions rise.

Your little hands were never made
to tear each other's eyes.

There she is. Let's get at her.

Let's thrash her.

Won't have the likes of
her in this village.

Won't have her mixing
with us good folk.

Take that, ya hussy!

Ha!

I'll get you, Goody Brown,
you dirty old harridan!

Back! Back! Please!

Away! Leave her! Leave her!

Oh, Tom.

Oh, Tom.

Don't... Don't leave me, Tom.

Don't worry. Don't worry.

Shh.

Slowly. Slowly.

That filthy slut.

Ah, good boy, good boy.

He's a game lad, your Tom.

So, the wench is
having a bastard, eh?

Yes.

It seems the girl has refused
to name the father to Mr. Allworthy.

He may have to send
her to Bridewell.

Father, I have a headache.

I smoke it.

I smoke it!

Tom is the father
of that bastard!

Aye! As sure as tuppence,
Tom is the bastard's father!

- Father...
- Ods zodikins!

What a little whoremaster
that boy is!

The girl is ruined, surely.

Aye! Ruined! Ruined, for sure!

Once broken, never mended, eh?

It'll do no harm.

A- Ask Sophie.

She knows about Tom.

You have no worse opinion of a young fellow
for getting a bastard, have you, girl?

Well, stop bobbing up and down, girl.

No, no, the women will like him
the better for it.

Won't they? Whoo-hoo! Ha!

Uh, come, Sophie.
Sing us one of your jolly songs.

Not tonight, Father.
I have a headache.

Let's have "St. George, He was
for England," or "Bobbing Joan."

That's a good song
for tonight, eh?

None of your old Handel now,
my little darling.

Ah, you play like an angel.

Molly's reputation
was destroyed,

and Tom's heart was
heavy with remorse.

Perhaps Mr. Square
had been right

that the wicked are snared
in the work of their own hands.

Oh. Mr. Jones.

- Where's Molly?
- Oh, she... she ain't home.

She's upstairs... in bed.

- Who is it?
- It's me. Tom.

Why haven't you been
to see me before this, Tom?

Molly, I-I-I...

- Ah!
- Well, I hope to explain...

I thought you said
you'd be my gentleman.

I hoped to explain why...

So you're not going to admit
you've had your wicked will of me.

- Molly.
- No.

I shall never love another
man but you, Tom.

Not if the greatest squire in the
country should come a-courtin' to me,

I couldn't give myself to him.

No, Tom.

Not for all the riches in the world,
now that you've gained my heart.

You are a lecherous
rascal after all, Tom!

I shall always hate and despise
the whole...

Mr. Square!

Molly's favors, after all,
had not been bestowed on Tom alone.

Our hero, unlike
many other men,

was fortunate enough to discover
the father of his child in time.

Oh. And after everyone's
kindness too.

She has laid the child
at young Mr. Jones's door.

All the parish say Mr. Allworthy
is so angry with Mr. Jones

that he won't see him.

To be sure, one can't help
pitying the poor young man.

He's so pretty a gentleman.

I should be sorry
to see him turned out of doors.

Why do you tell me all this?
What concern have I in what Mr. Jones does?

Why, ma'am,
I never thought as it was any harm

to say a young man was handsome.

But I shall never think of him anymore now,
for handsome is as handsome does.

Tittle, tattle, tittle, tattle.

- I shall be late for the hunt.
- Sorry, I'm sure, madam.

Hey, hey! Hey, hey! Hyup!

Move in, my hunters!
Where's the cider?

Greetings, my boy!

- Hey-hey, my beauty!
- Good morning, Squire.

Splendid! Simply splendid!

Welcome, everyone!

- Good morning!
- Good morning, Western.

Morning. Morning.
Isn't it beautiful, beautiful weather?

- Oh, you brute.
- Good morning, everybody.

- Welcome, my lady.
- Good morning.

And you, sir.

Greetings, everyone.

Ah, welcome. You're
getting no younger.

I mean the horse, madam!

Let's stir a cup, everyone!

- Good cheer, everybody!
- Come help yourselves, everyone!

You need to eat and drink!

Sure. The church is always first
with the bread and wine.

Health to everyone!

Ohh! It's right for you, eh?

Well, miss isn't speaking today?

Drink up, everyone!

Huntsmen, loose the hounds!

Another dab of mead then?

Ah! The hounds!

Oh, come on, my sweetheart!

Go on, me lovely boys and girls!

Come on, come on!

There you are!

I'll drop a cider inside you, boy.
Then you'll be ready for the kill.

- Good cheer, Miss Western.
- Go on! Drink up, everyone!

Go on! Drink up!

There's some Western brew
for you, my girls!

Squire, it's too early!

You'll tire yourself!

On we go!

Good hunt, everyone!
Good health! Good hunting!

Yea!

Away!

Come on! Down he goes!
Go on, boys!

After him!

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

Come on! Come on!

Come on!

Come on, Sophie! Hurry! Hurry!

Come on, sweetheart!
After him, after him!

Tallyho!

Tallyho!

Go on! Here he comes! Go on!

Come on!

Ah! Here he is!

- I trust you're not harmed.
- No, no, I'm quite safe.

How can I ever thank you, Mr. Jones?

If I have preserved you, madam,
I am sufficiently repaid.

I hope you're not hurt.

If I have broke my arm,
I consider it a trifle

in comparison
to what I feared on your account.

Broken your arm?

I'm afraid I have, madam.

Yet I have another
to lead you home.

Look at him, ma'am.

He's the most handsome man
I ever saw in my life.

Why, Honor, I do believe
you're in love with him.

I assure you, ma'am, I'm not.

If you were, I see no reason
that you should be ashamed of it.

For he is certainly
a handsome fellow.

That he is, the most handsome man
I ever saw in my life.

And as you say, ma'am,
I don't know why

I should be ashamed
of looking at him,

even though he is my better.

For gentlefolk are but
flesh and blood like us servants.

I am an honest person's child,

and my father and mother were married,

which is more than some people can say,
as high as they hold their heads.

Honor!

My grandfather was a clergyman,

and he would have been very angry
to have thought any of his family

had taken up with Molly
Seagrim's leavings.

Why, ma'am,
the young gentleman is awake!

Yes, you have awakened him
with your foolish chatter.

I feel awake for the
first time, madam.

Do you remember that picnic,
Sister, last year,

when Western sat on
the wasp's nest?

Oh, I shall never forget it!

- Hmm.
- Brother. Brother.

- Brother.
- Whoa! Whoa!

- Oh, no! I can't...
- Whoa, back! Whoa, back!

No, no, no! No!

Oi!

Why the long face, Blif?

- A terrible thing.
- What's happened?

There's been an accident.
My mother is dead.

Blif.

Is Squire Allworthy?

He's not expected to live.

Shh. Fever has developed,
and there's little hope.

We can only pray.

Something for which you
have scant relish.

For as much as it hath pleased
almighty God of his great mercy

to take unto himself the soul
of our dear sister, here departed,

we therefore commit her body
to the ground.

Earth to earth, ashes to ashes...

dust to dust,

in sure and certain hope
of the resurrection to eternal life

through our Lord, Jesus Christ.

- Amen.
- Amen.

Well, there's another one gone.

- Hush.
- Well...

- I'm so sorry.
- Thank you.

Well, cheer up, lad.

She will be with the angels, my boy.

Our mortal forms
are but shadows of a purer reality.

Thank you, sir,
for your comforting words.

She was a great lady.

Sir, some time before your mother died,
she gave me a letter.

Her instructions were to hand it
to Mr. Allworthy as she was buried.

Hand it to me. I will
give it to my uncle.

She expressly said
into no hands but Mr. Allworthy's.

Lawyer Dowling, if my uncle lives,
he will need a new steward.

I intend to recommend you.

You are most kind, sir.

Mmm.

Do not grieve, my dear nephew.

Do not grieve.

Sir, you cannot die.

Death comes to us all, Tom.

I have asked you here
to tell you of my will.

Nephew Blifil, I leave you heir
to my whole estate,

with these exceptions.

To you, my dear Tom,

I have given an estate
of £800 a year,

together with £1,000
in ready money.

I am convinced, my boy,

that you have much
goodness, generosity,

and honor in your nature.

If you will add prudence

and religion to these,

you must be happy.

One thousand pounds
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 £100.

"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
boughtjoy to Tom,

to his tutors,
sheer disappointment.

You have good reason for your
drunkenness, you beggarly bastard.

He provided well enough for you.

Do you think any such consideration
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
which I have entitled,

"Sing, Thick Thwackum,
Thy Bounty Has Flown."

Mr. Jones!

This house is in mourning on
account of the death of my dear mother.

Ah!

Oh, sir, forgive me.

The joy of Mr. Allworthy's recovery...

I had the misfortune to know
who my parents were.

Consequently, I'm grieveby their loss.

You rascal. Do you dare to insult me?

Gentlemen, gentlemen,
this behavior is most unseemly.

- Oh!
- Oh, Master Blifil!

Master Blifil, that vulgar animal!

- Blifil!
- Out with him! Out with him!

- Get him out!
- Oh-ho! Away we go outside!

- Let's have some wine!
- Get out! Get him out! Go on! Get him 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.

Sophie.

Sophie!

I'll carve her name on this tree.

Tree, do you mind if I carve
the name of my "Sophia"?

Big "S."

"Sophia."

Sophie, Sophie.

Soph... 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?

Mmm.

I never had a sip
of a gentleman's wine before.

Oh, it's very potent.

What are you laughing at, Tom?

I'm thinking of Square
in your bedroom!

To those who find
our hero's behavior 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?
- A wench?

- Let's go and find the wicked girl.
- Yes.

Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones!

- Who is that?
- Mr. Jones!

Damnation to you! Stop it!

Stop! What's the matter with you?

Damnation to you!

You over there! Ho, there!

Three falling onto one? Oh!

Sophie!

Come, lass. See to Tom.

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

Tom. Shh.

- Poor Tom. Shh.
- What... What... You...

- Sophie dear.
- Shh.

I'll fetch you some water.

What are you brawling about, Tom?

If you search the bushes,
you'll find the reason.

You... You liquorish dog, you!

Where is she?
Where's Tom's pussy?

Puss, puss, puss, puss!
Where's Tom's pussy?

- Puss, puss, puss, puss!
- Sophie, I...

Puss, puss, puss!
Puss, puss, puss, puss!

Come. After him.

- Home, my girl!
- Sophie!

Tom! Tom! Here, come
and sup with me.

And, gentlemen,
let us make our peace over a bottle.

I beg your pardon, sir, but it is no
slight matter for a man of my character

to be buffeted by a boy

just because I was trying
to bring a wanton harlot to justice.

The real 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 won't give you
except my hounds and my favorite mare.

Up!

Away, me Slouch!

Away! Up there!

Away! Yea! Yes! That's a boy!

Let us go and tell Mr. Allworthy
how the monster has behaved.

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

A better time will come.

Ods zodikins!
It's me sister's coach!

What brings her from London?
I hope the old bitch has gone to bed.

Come, Sophie. Sing us one of
your jolly songs, my girl.

Please, Father. I do not feel very 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 lookee here, Sister...

- Sophie.
- Yes, Aunt?

- To bed.
- Bed?

- Bed!
- I'd be glad to, madam.

Now lookee 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...

Well, if you mean me,
I'm a woman of...

Yes, and it's 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!

Hmm?

Brother, have you not noticed
something very extraordinary

about my niece Sophie lately?

Tell me then, for 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 toss 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 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.

Ah! Saddle my horse!

Well, Nephew, how do you feel
about this marriage

between yourself and
Sophie 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 that she will
be pleased to receive me.

Good. You shall call upon her
this very afternoon.

Sophie, dear,
what book is that you are 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, Sophie.
I have news that will delight you.

News? 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
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...

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! 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.

Oh, 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!

- Sophie!
- Sophie!

Sophie!

No! No! No, no! No!
You get... Let me...

- Sophie!
- Brother!

Brother! Brother!

Sophie!

Sophie?

Sophie.

Sophie, Sophie, shh.

My dearest, promise me
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! There!

Ah!

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

Run, Tom, run!

Tom!

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

Tom, run!

- Sophie, please! Sophie!
- Run!

Brother, don't hurt her!

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
bring up a bastard like a gentleman

and let him go round 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 after 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-hunting with me,
not a-courting 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. Huh?

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 girl, I'll
qualify him to run for the gelding's plate.

Even the best ofhorsemen
should avoid the bottle.

However, the forces ofsobriety

were gathering in all their strength
against our hero.

We draw your attention to the
abominable behavior 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.

The English of which is,
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 this thing.

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.

Oh! 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'm sorry to say that
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

really 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 forever.

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.

Good-bye, Tom.

Good-bye, sir.

Mr. Allworthy is very sensible

of the many advantages
of binding our two estates together.

Indeed?

I had not realized that 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.

Tallyho!

It is you who have taught her
disobedience, Brother.

You are such a boor.

Boar?

I am no boar. No, nor an 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, you must promise
to keep your word.

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

Ah!

I got you, my girl!

- Help!
- 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 ofred coats.

Good day, gentlemen.
May I ask which way you're heading?

We're going north
to fight for the Protestant cause.

Against Prince Charles?

Ah, those damned Scots
are already on their way to England.

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

May I buy something
to eat and drink?

- Right. Give him some.
- Thank you, Sergeant.

- Good day, Captain.
- Good day.

I perceive you are a gentleman.

We shall be glad to welcome any such
into our company.

- I'd be glad to march with you.
- Good.

We shall be on the
march in a short while.

There comes a time when men,
in a constant state ofreadiness for war,

will slip their leash

and fight like dogs.

Sergeant.

I believe...

that a man can fight for no nobler
cause than that of his religion.

Hear, hear!

I'd like to propose a toast
to the Protestant cause.

To the Protestant cause.

Smoke the prig out, Northerton.
Smoke him.

Sir, were you ever at
the university?

Sir, so far from having been at university,
I was never at school.

Me neither.

I presumed, sir, from the information
of your great learning.

Sir, it's as easy for a man not to have
been at school and know something

as it is for a man to have been at school
and know nothing.

Well said, young volunteer.

Upon my word, Northerton,
you had better let him alone,

or he'll prove too hard for you.

Uh, give us a toast, young fellow.
Fill up his cup.

Yes, sir.

I would like to propose a toast...

to the health, and bless the name...

of Miss Sophie Western.

- Sophie Western.
- Sophie Western?

I knew one Sophie Western.

Was lain with
by half the young fellows at Bath.

Perhaps this is the same woman.

Miss Western is a great lady
of fashion and fortune.

Aye, so she is, so she is.

Well, it's the same young lady.

I'll lay half a dozen of burgundy
Tom French of our regiment

had her in the tavern
at Bridge Street.

Sophie Western!

Sir!

I can bear no jesting
with this lady's character.

Jesting? Damn me if I was
ever more in earnest in my life.

Tom French of our regiment had her
and her aunt together at Bath.

I tell you you are
the most impudent rascal on earth!

You've killed him, you swine!

Zounds! I was but in
jest with the fellow.

I never heard of Miss Western
before in me life.

Then you deserve to be hanged.

You're under arrest.
Sergeant, take him away.

Arrest him.

But a hero cannot be lost
until his tale is told.

For heaven be thanked,
we live in such an age

where no man dies for love
except upon the stage.

Shh. Mama.

Come on, you. Come on. Get up.

I can't afford for you
to lie here idle any longer.

Get out, and follow
them rascally friends of yours.

You soldiers call
yourselves gentlemen.

But it's we who have to pay for you
and keep you, too, for that matter.

What are you talking about?

That Lieutenant Northerton
escaped last night.

The rest of the company
went in pursuit after him.

And they very conveniently left here
without paying the bill.

Well, how could he have escaped?

His doxy arrived,
a trollop called Mrs. Waters.

The sentry had disappeared,
and she let him out.

She'll soon learn
what kind of a man he is.

Nothing is ever good enough
for sparks like him.

But when it comes to paying the bill,
that's another matter.

Don't worry, madam.
I will repay you handsomely.

Ooh.

Ah, sir, a nice young
gentleman like yourself

shouldn't want to get mixed up
with them rough soldiers.

- It's gone.
- What's gone?

I had a £500 note in my
breeches pocket, and it's gone.

That's a likely story.

- I had £500.
- You never had £500.

One single note of £500 I had when
I arrived here yesterday, and it's gone!

I should have known your kind
when you walked in here.

Somebody's been in this
room during the night

and taken £500 out of my breeches pocket!

- Why don't you join them rascals?
- Was it you?

Did you see her take it in the night?
Somebody took the £500 out of my breeches!

You lying rascal!

Nor them cheating
redcoat friends of yours neither.

Go on, take your things
and get out of here quick!

Go on.

I'll set the dogs on you
if you don't hurry up!

Ya blackguard! Robbers!
The whole lot of you! You and your £500!

Wake up, you country stewpot!

Your daughter, sir!

While you've been a-lying a-bubbling here,
your daughter is gone!

Rouse yourself from
this pastoral torpor.

Your daughter is gone!

What?

Come on, you lazy lot,
and take the London road.

Come on, me Slouch.

Get up.

Follow!

Are you wanting anything, madam?

We're tired after a long journey
and in need of some refreshment.

It'd be an honor to serve such a lady.
Let me help you down.

Has, by any chance, a young gentleman,
a Mr. Jones, passed this way lately?

Indeed he has, madam,

and I'm surprised that a lady like you
inquiring of the likes of him.

Brawling, thieving, and bragging about
his mistress, one Miss Sophie Western.

Sophie Western?

I'm not at all surprised, madam,
after that Molly Seagrim.

But I am the same Sophie Western.

Well, you can get out of here quick
and take your trollop with you!

Go on, get out of here.
Follow your fine friends.

Take your fine airs and graces
somewhere else.

This is a respectable house,
I'll have you know.

We don't want the
likes of you here.

Our hero's next adventure
concerns a lady in circumstances

from which anygentleman
would instinctively wish to free her,

but of which any man
who was not a gentleman

might instantly want
to take advantage.

No! No!

Let her go, villain!

You savage!

Sure, I've only myself to blame

for putting my trust in a man
so unworthy of my favors.

No, indeed, sir.
You've already had trouble enough.

My nakedness might
well make me ashamed,

and I'd go alone if it wasn't
for the need of your protection.

Well, then in case any prying eyes
should offend you,

I will walk ahead
and escort you as far as U-Upton.

So Tom and Mrs. Waters,
for so the lady was called,

set out on the road to Upton.

Tom, like Orpheus
leading Eurydice out ofhell,

hardly daring to look back
in case the fires consumed him.

Sophie! Sophie Western!

Sophie! Cousin Sophie!

- Look, ma'am, 'tis Mrs. Fitzpatrick.
- My cousin Harriet?

- The same.
- Why, so it is.

Cousin!

Harriet!

- What are you doing here?
- I'm on my way to London.

That is my destination.
But why are you both on one horse indeed?

Oh, Harriet, I'm running
away from home.

And I, too, running away from
my husband, Mr. Fitzpatrick,

who's hot on my trail, I'm sure.

Oh, never marry an Irishman,

particularly if he is
eaten up with jealousy,

possessed of a quick temper,

and a mighty fool into the bargain.

You can stay with me.

Oh, may I?

Now get in, Cousin.
Get in and tell me about yourself.

Landlady. Two rooms, please.

And perhaps you'd be so good
as to find this lady a gown.

She's been involved in an accident
and deprived of her clothes.

Take us to our rooms at once.

Where's your cat gone to?

Heroes, whatever high ideas
we may have of them,

are mortal, not divine.

We are all as God made us,
and many of us much worse.

Hmm.

Oh, all right, all right.
I'm coming.

I'm coming, I said!

- Where's me wife?
- Who?

Me wife. Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Where is she?
I've come a distance to catch her.

- There's no Mrs. Fitzpatrick here.
- I know she's here.

I know it.
Where is that serpent-toothed siren?

Ah, then... Look, who's here, girl?

Tell me who's here, and I'll make you
the richest poor woman in the nation.

Nay, sir, there's only a gentleman,
Mr. Jones.

- No lady?
- He has a Mrs. Waters with him.

Waters. I'll bet she's
using a false name.

Aye?

That cunning wench.

By the waters of the Babylon,
I shall lay me down.

I'll bet she's laying down
beside Mr. Jones.

Show me her room.

- Now, where is she?
- I'll show you in a minute.

Where is that place where she lies,
that trough of desire?

Down the end there.

Mrs. Fitzpatrick!
Come on, Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

- My husband.
- Your husband?

Mr. Fitzpatrick.
Do you think I don't know his voice?

Discovered, you whoreson, all right!

Rape! Murder! Rape!

- What is it, lassie?
- There's rape going on down there.

Huh? Rape?

Rape! Murder! Murder!

What is all this?

Mr. MacLachlan, dear friend,
I am rejoiced to see you here.

This villain has debauched me 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, sir?

Rape, rape, rape, rape! Rape, rape!

Rape, rape, rape!

Bless me, 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.

Rape!

Ma'am, pray forgive my
dastardly intrusion. I...

What in the devil's name
is this disturbance?

I thought meself in a respectable inn,
but I see now it's a bawdy house.

I have made a mistake.
I was looking for me wife.

This set of 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 Christian

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

I heard the lady's screams and ran

to her assistance from
the adjoining chamber.

Adjoining chamber.

It seems, madam, I've had the good fortune
to prevent the lady from being robbed.

Robbed?

Robbed!
I shall have your blood for that, sir.

You wild Irish lunatic!

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, eh?

Cornered you at last, you bastard!

Good-bye, madam.
I regret I must take my leave of you.

Odsbodikins!

After him! Damnation!

Oh! There he is!

- Miss Western!
- Oh! There's the man!

Brother! Brother!

Don't be dismayed, sir.

She will soon be tired with her journey
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 hunting.

It's confounded hard to lose one
of the finest scenting days of the season.

Whoa!

Ah!

- Ha! Come on, me Slouch!
- What are you doing?

Oh!

Dobson, drive on.

Get on there! Get on!

Stand and deliver.

Whoa!

What did you say, sir?

Stand and deliver.

Deliver?

I am no traveling 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! Come on! Get up!

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.

I'm afraid, as a gentleman of the road,
you cut a very poor figure.

Be merciful, sir. I didn't mean any harm.
Truly I didn't.

- There's 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?
- 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 to come by 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. We will go there.

No friend of Mr. Allworthy's
will speak to me now.

Mrs. Miller is one of the
kindest ladies I know.

Who knows?
She may yet get you back in his favor.

Here, you're a lovely boy then.
Have you come to stay?

Good day. Oop.

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.

Yes.

Bella, you must let Sophie come
and stay with you.

My protector is coming back,

and I fear he might 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.

I'm absolutely certain Sophie was
at Mrs. Fitzpatrick's when I called.

Dear Mrs. Miller, what am I to do?

I've no friends, no money, no introduction.
I know nothing of London.

You're not to worry about the money,
Mr. Jones.

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 favors 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 flummery.

All folks of fashion are here.

Sophie will be no exception.

Well, show her to me,
and I'll have her arrested.

Arrested?

Do you imagine a woman of stature
can be arrested in a civilized nation?

Hmm. A piteous civilized nation, indeed,
where women are above the law.

Civilized nation, my trunk.

Je vous méprise de tout mon cœur.

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 honor, Miss Western is not here.

Indeed, Mrs. Fitzpatrick, if you are she,

it's a little cruel of you
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 what to say if you do.

You must be a pauper
if you can't find a chair.

Or a miser!

I thought you were
Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

Fitzpatrick.

Sir, I am unfamiliar with customs
in the country,

but in town it is considered impolite
to keep a lady waiting.

With our usualgood breeding,

we will not follow this
particular conversation further,

but attend results
on the following day.

Our hero released from Lady Bellaston
a torrent ofaffection,

as well as a flood ofgifts,

which he found suitably embarrassing
and quite irresistible.

- We must have you looking your best.
- Lady Bellaston, is all this...

Isn't that what Miss
Western would want?

Come back precisely at 4:00.
I shall have news for you then.

Send the bill to me, sir.

Yes, my lady. Very good, my lady.
Good day, my lady.

How could Tom know that Sophie
was now staying here with Lady Bellaston?

I do beg you to excuse the play,
but when may I see you again?

Forgive me, my lord.

I'm afraid my plans for remaining in London
are still a little uncertain.

Good day, my lord.

Ah... Ah...

Oh, madam...

- Sophie!
- Tom!

I see, Sophie, you're
somewhat surprised.

- What are you doing here?
- I came to look for you.

I found your pocketbook at Upton
and came to ask if I might return it.

How dare you mention that place to me.

Oh, Sophie, let me
ask your pardon.

My pardon? After what
I heard at the inn?

You cannot despise me more
than I do myself.

I thought, Miss Western,
you were at the play.

The play caused so violent an uproar,
I got frightened and came home,

where I found this gentleman.

He has apparently found the pocketbook
I told Your Ladyship I had lost

and wishes to return it.

When I do bring it, all that I ask is that I

might have the honor of
presenting it in person.

I presume, sir, you are a gentleman,

and my doors are never shut
to people of fashion.

Thank you, madam.

Ladies.

Your cane, sir.

Oh.

A handsome fellow.

I don't remember
ever to have seen his face before.

Nor I neither, madam.

I suspected it was
Mr. Jones himself.

- Did Your Ladyship, indeed?
- Yes.

I can't imagine
what put the idea into my head,

for to give this fellow his due,

he was very well dressed.

I think, dear Sophie, that is not often
the case with your friend.

I thought Your Ladyship had said
he was handsome.

- Whom, pray?
- Mr. Jones.

I meant, of course, the gentleman
that was with us just now.

Oh, Sophie. Sophie.

This Mr. Jones, I fear,
still runs in your head.

I assure you, madam,

Mr. Jones means no more to me
than the gentleman who has just left us.

Forgive me teasing you.

I promise...

I'll never mention his name again.

Take this to Lord Fellamar

and beg him to attend
to me tomorrow.

She is the only daughter
of a country booby squire.

At the playhouse,
she blazed like a star.

The first moment I saw her,
I loved her to distraction.

Her father's estate
is a good £3,000 a year.

Ooh. Then, madam, I think it
the best match in all England.

Then if you like her, my lord,

you shall have her.

- Honor!
- A letter from my mistress, Mr. Jones.

Upstairs?

- Honor!
- Oh!

- Here.
- What are you doing?

- I told my mistress she should...
- Get behind the curtain. Don't speak.

- Oh, oh!
- Shh!

My dear, charming Lady Bellaston.

Dear? Charming?

You've been avoiding me.
I should scold you.

But... But I don't think I intend to.

- Shh! There is a lady...
- A lady?

One of your ladies, I suppose?
Where is she?

I- I-I...

There is a lady in the next room
a- dying, madam.

What scheme have you and Sophie
been plotting behind my back?

- Madam, I don't understand.
- Answer me one question only.

Have you not betrayed
my honor to her?

Am I neglected,
slighted for a country girl,

for an idiot?

- Neglected, madam?
- Hmm.

Ah.

"I charge you not
to think of visiting again,"

Sophie desperately wrote to Tom.

"The truth will certainly
be discovered.

Something favorable,
perhaps, may happen.

Until then,
we must be patient."

Lord Fellamar is one of the most
gallant young fellows about town.

Make love to you, indeed.
I only wish he would.

You would be mad to refuse him.

Then I shall most certainly be mad.

Entrez.

Madam, Miss Western is
hardly encouraging.

My dear lord,
you certainly need a cordial.

Fie upon it.

Have more resolution.

Are you frightened
by the word "rape"?

Lord Fellamar.

Miss Western, it is I.

I fear I break in upon
you abruptly.

Indeed, my lord, I am a
little surprised.

Love... Love has
deprived me of all reason.

My lord, I neither understand
your words nor your behavior.

You're the most adorable,
most divine creature.

I do assure you, my lord,
I shall not wait to hear any more of this.

If I were master of the world,
I would lay it at your feet.

My lord, I beg you to stop.

Let go my hand!
I will never see you again.

Then, madam, we must make
the best use of this moment.

What do you mean?

Oh, rape! Stop!

I have no fear but of
losing you, madam.

Whoa.

Where is she?
Damn me if I won't unkennel her now.

- Oh, Father!
- Your father?

Yes. And who in hell are you?

I, sir, am Lord Fellamar,

and I am the happy man whom I hope
you will accept as your son-in-law.

You're a son of a whore
for all your fancy folderols.

I resent your tone, sir.

Resent, me arse!
I'll teach you to father-in-law me.

Ooh! Ooh.

Father, put me down.

Oh, my dear friend,
I'm so entangled with this woman

that I don't know how
to extricate myself.

I know. Propose marriage to her.

To Lady Bellaston?

Aye, propose marriage to her,
and she'll call it off in a moment.

You haven't a penny,

and she'll think you're
marrying her for her wealth.

It's very convincing for a man
in your desperate situation.

But what if she should take me at my word?
Then I'm caught in my own trap.

I promise you she won't.

I do not doubt that my niece
will welcome the favors

of a gentleman like Lord Fellamar.

This Blifil is a hideous
kind of fellow.

But as you know, Bell,
all country gentlemen are.

I don't then wonder at Sophie's
infatuation for this Jones creature.

He's an agreeable fellow to look at.

Miss Western,
will you believe me

when I tell you that he has had
the audacity to make love to me?

Oh, these men.

I would have torn the
eyes out of a prince

if he had attempted such
freedoms with me.

Indeed, he's even gone so far
as to propose marriage to me.

Oh!

What is it?

With your leave, Bell,
I will show this to my niece.

Apply it to what purpose
you may please.

Uh-huh. Oh.

- It's from my Sophie.
- Good.

"Sir," she wrote,

"my aunt has just now shown me
a letter from you to Lady Bellaston

which contains a
proposal ofmarriage.

All I desire is thatyour name
may nevermore be mentioned

to your obliged
humble servant,

Sophie Western."

You could try Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

She might be able to help.

'Tis said that hope
is a bad supper,

but makes a good breakfast.

And in the morning, Tom set off
for Mrs. Fitzpatrick to seek help.

Not a moment too soon,

for who should arrive but his
old benefactor, Squire Allworthy.

Mr. Allworthy,
what an unexpected pleasure.

Good morning, Mrs. Miller.

You have come to forgive him.

- Forgive who, Mrs. Miller?
- Dear Mr. Jones.

Mr. Jones here, madam?

No, I've come to bring my nephew,
Mr. Blifil, to London.

She must be the most contemptible of women
who can overlook merit such as yours.

An old acquaintance arrives.

I swear that dirty whore's done it now!
You wait till I get me hands on her.

I'll break every bone in her body.

Let us meet tomorrow.

We will find a way
of easing your predicament.

Well... Yes, tomorrow.

Thank you.

I'm very sorry.

My dear sir, I hope there's no
ill blood remaining between us.

Upon my soul, sir,
I don't remember your name.

Nor I yours, but I remember your
face from the inn at Upton.

Upton. Then your
name is Tom Jones?

Indeed it is, sir.

Then you have been with me wife after all.
Well, there's that for you, you rascal.

And if you don't give me satisfaction
for that blow, I'll give you another.

Fight, damn you!

Yaaah!

Yaaah!

I'm sorry, sir,
but you drew this on yourself.

You're a liar. You set on
that gentleman to rob him.

I was coming out of the house.

Only to defend myself.

- He drew his sword on me!
- Step back there.

What's this all about?

He drew his sword!
What do you expect me to do?

Stand there while he
cuts me to pieces?

Yes, for armed robbery.

And you are certain the bastard
will be hanged?

No doubt of it. I hired these
two to follow Master Jones,

which they did with rare zeal.

Good.

See that they're properly
taken care of, will you?

I will break the news to my uncle.

Mr. Jones has one of the
kindest hearts I know.

He never mentions your name
but to praise it.

Uncle.

I- I'm afraid to tell you
what has happened.

- It may shock you too much.
- What's the matter, Nephew?

Your adopted son, sir, Jones...

has proved himself to be one
of the greatest villains on earth.

If anyone else had
called him a villain,

I would have thrown this boiling tea
in his face.

Mrs. Miller!

I know he's not without faults,

but they're those of
wildness and youth,

and I'm sure many of us have worse.

At least we're not in
footpads, Mrs. Miller.

What do you mean?

Mr. Jones has attacked a man.

He has been sentenced to be hanged
at Tyburn.

Nobody can save him now.

And Tom was to swing.

His enemies had
determined on that.

So lawyer Dowling decided
to pay a call on Mr. Fitzpatrick,

and who should receive
him but Mrs. Waters.

Strictly confidential.

I come from a most worthy gentleman,

whose name at the moment
I am not at liberty to divulge.

What does this mysterious gentleman
want of me?

He wants you to help him
see that justice is done,

to make sure that Jones
gets his just desserts.

For any assistance you can give him,
he is prepared to pay handsomely.

He is?

You interest me, sir.
What is the proposition?

Meanwhile, faithful
Partridge searched for anyone

who could prove Tom's innocence
of the charge against him.

Excuse me.

Are you the two gentlemen
that saw the fight with Mr. Jones?

Tom cannot escape the gallows
unless you retract your evidence.

I beg you to do so, and in the meantime
I assure you, you will be rewarded.

Harkee, sir, everything
we said was true.

Now, if I were you, I'd be off,
or you're gonna be the worse for it!

Only one hope was left now,
poor Partridge thought.

Fitzpatrick.

- Now, that's better.
- Aye.

You'll be all right in a minute.

Come in.

Sorry for the intrusion,
Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

Well, if it isn't Mr. Partridge.

Jenny Jones.

But I'm Mrs. Waters now.

Well, whatever are you doing here?

Well, I'm a close friend of Mr. Fitzpatrick.
I'm looking after him.

Well, indeed, I came to see Mr.
Fitzpatrick to plead for your son.

My son?

Your son, Tom Jones.

He never intended to
wound Mr. Fitzpatrick.

But I met the man who
wounded Mr. Fitzpatrick at Upton.

Then that is the same man,
your son, Tom Jones.

With his own mother?
With Jenny Jones?

How could either of
them have known, sir?

Good heavens, in what miserable distresses
do vice and imprudence involve men.

Ma'am, there's a Mrs. Waters here
to see Mr. Allworthy.

What is she doing here?

The very woman herself, sir.

You probably don't recognize me, sir.

Indeed, you are much
changed, madam.

But what business
can you have with me now?

Such business
as I can impart only to you, sir.

Pray, leave us.

This, sir, is the very man
I was telling you about.

- But he is my steward.
- Nevertheless, this is the man.

- Do you know this lady?
- That lady, sir?

Look you, Mr. Dowling,
if you value my favor,

you will not hesitate but answer me truly.

Do you know this lady?

I have seen her, sir.

Before my sister died, did
she give you a letter for me, sir?

Come with me, sir.

Partridge, have my coach
brought round at once.

Yes, sir.

- Uncle, I have...
- Harkee, sir.

Before I return,
you had better find the letter

which your mother gave to
Dowling here before she died.

Ah, good day, neighbor.

Are you going to see
your bastard hang?

On the contrary, Mr. Western.
We're going to Newgate Jail to save him.

Save him? Save him for what?

And this is what Mr. Allworthy
is saying to Mr. Western.

"My friend, Mr. Fitzpatrick,
has now recovered

and is no longer
charging Tom with robbery."

I couldn't be more pleased
if he were me own son,

which it may surprise you to know
he's not.

Mr. Allworthy's own sister Bridget,
who was Tom's mother,

and I, the one who put the baby
in the squire's bed.

And that is what it
says in the letter.

And so, Tom is now my only heir!

Your heir? Did you
say your heir?

Yes, neighbor.

To Newgate, Goody,
and drive for dear life!

But I always loved
that boy best.

He shall have my
Sophie by this hand.

Tyburn, here I come!

Come on, me Slouch! Get on!

And another old
acquaintance has arrived,

not only reinstated
in the army,

but now in charge
of the condemned.

Faster, faster, faster, Goody!

I have come to release
a Mr. Tom Jones.

We sent him off hours ago.
He'll be strung up by now.

But they can't hang him.

But I have just procured
this pardon for him.

They can't hang an innocent man.

They have done often enough before.

They won't have reached Tyburn yet.
We must stop them. Come.

On your life, Goody! Faster!

Better luck in the
next world, Mr. Jones.

To die for a cause is
a common evil.

To die for nonsense
is the devil.

And twould be the devil's own nonsense
to leave Tom Jones without a rescuer.

Aaah!

Oh, my dear boy. Forgive me.

Forgive you?

How can I ever make
amends for those

unkind, unjust suspicions
I have held of you?

- You have always used me kindly.
- No, Nephew.

- I have used you cruelly.
- Nephew?

Yes, you are indeed illegitimate,

but your mother was
not this lady here,

but my sister Bridget.

- Uncle!
- It is true, Tom.

Ah, this is no time for explanations,
neighbor.

Tom, thou art as hearty a cock
as any in the kingdom.

Go on, after your mistress.

Alas, I fear I've sinned against her
for all time.

I doubt if she'll speak to me now.

No, Tom, don't say you
have lost her yet.

Go to her now.

- Go on, Tom.
- Go to her.

Go on, lad.

I will!

Ah, go to her lad, to her.

Harkee, Allworthy.

I'll bet thee a thousand pounds to a crown
we'll have a boy tomorrow nine months.

Happy the man and
happy he alone,

he who can call today his own.

He who, secure
within, can say,

"Tomorrow, do thy worst,
for I have lived today."

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