All language subtitles for The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling 1997 E04

Ah, love.

Love, that cruellest of distempers.

How easily its symptoms, once so delicious,

become a scorpion in the bosom.

Let us now observe what torments
fortune hath preserved for...

Why, Miss Western, I thought
you'd been at the play this evening.

My hasty return, madam,
was prompted by a riot at the playhouse.

A riot? At the play?

Indeed, you must tell me every detail
when we are at leisure.

I should not have broken
so abruptly upon you, my dear,

if I'd known you had company.

I hope, at least, I interrupt no important business.

No. No, madam.

To some, madam, this might seem
an important business.

Your pocketbook, madam.

And I trust you'll find the bank bill inside,
the same value as when it was lost.

Oh, the...

Your Ladyship may be pleased to remember,

I have often mentioned the loss of
my pocketbook, which this kind gentleman

appears to have very luckily found
with the bank bill in it.

Indeed, Miss Western, you have had
very good luck in recovering your money.

Not only has it fell into the hands
of a gentlemen of honour...

but as he happened to discover
to whom it belonged.

The bank bill, madam,
was enclosed in a pocketbook,

in which the young lady's name was written.

But never, till today,
was I so fortunate to discover her.

That was very fortunate, indeed.

And it was no less so,
that you heard Miss Western was at my house,

for she's very little known in town, I think.

Why, madam, that was by the luckiest chance
imaginable I made the discovery.

How marvellous,
I cannot wait to hear the whole story.

Sadly, madam, I have a prior engagement
which necessitates my immediate departure.

Indeed?

I believe, madam, it is customary
on such occasions to give reward.

And I must insist an a very high one
for my honesty.

It is no less than the honour of being
permitted to pay you another visit here.

I make no doubt that you are a gentleman, sir,

and my doors are never shut to people of fashion.

Then I wish you both a good night.

Upon my ward, Miss Western,
that was a good, pretty young fellow.

I wonder who he is?

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

Nor I, neither, madam, but I must confess,

he behaved very handsomely
in relation to my banknote.

Yes. And he's a very handsome fellow,
don't you think so?

I did not take much notice of him, madam.

And yet, one may tell by his manner
that he has not kept good company.

Indeed, not withstanding
his returning your money,

I almost question whether he is a gentleman.

I think I will give orders not to be at home to him.

Nay.

To be sure, madam,
one can't suspect that after what he has done.

- No?
- Besides, if Your Ladyship observed,

there was an elegance in his discourse,
a prettiness,

a delicacy of expression that...

Indeed, Sophia, you must forgive me,
indeed you must.

- I, forgive Your Ladyship?
- Yes, indeed, you must...

for I had a horrible suspicion,
when I first came into the room, of a...

You must forgive it,
but I suspected that it was your Mr Jones himself.

- Mr Jones?
- Yes, indeed, I did.

I can't imagine what put it into my head.

I cannot, either, madam, for I confess,

I do not know how you became
aware of this man's existence,

as you have never heard his name from my lips.

I believe Mrs Fitzpatrick may have mentioned him.

- Mrs Fitzpatrick?
- Anyway...

to give this fellow his due,
he was very genteelly dressed,

which I think, dear Sophia,
is not commonly the case with your friend.

This teasing is a little cruel, I feel, Lady Bellaston.

Now, what must I think, my dear Sophia,

if you cannot bear a little ridicule
even on this fellow's dress?

I shall begin to think
you are very far gone, indeed.

Upon my honour, Lady Bellaston,

Mr Jones is as entirely indifferent to me...

as the gentleman who just now left us.

Upon my honour, Sophia, I believe it.

- Ah, Your Honour.
- Evening, Partridge.

The highwayman!

Oh, Mr Jones, this is my dear, dear brother,

who's been so greatly beholden
to your recent goodness,

for which he begs to return you
his sincerest thanks.

- Your brother?
- The highwayman!

Bless me. Mr Partridge is not ill, I hope?

The physicians expect a full recovery.

I find, madam, your brother
is an acquaintance of ours.

Oh, heavens.

And an honoured acquaintance, too.

When we chanced to meet on the road to London,

he it was who saved Mr Partridge
and myself from a base highwayman

who planned to rob us of everything we had.

- Indeed, Brother, is this true?
- I assure you it is, madam.

And now I have the happiness to discover
it is this very man that has benefited

from the small trifle I was able to give him
for his support in this difficult time.

It is to your generosity, sir,
which I owe the lives of my wife and children.

Oh, Sister.
I owe this gentleman such a debt of gratitude.

I beg you, sir, never mention it more.

Oh, sir, I wish you could
this instant see my house.

Our distress, sir, is all greatly removed,
and chiefly by your goodness.

My children now have bread to eat.

Such kindness as you have shown, Mr Jones,
will surely meet with a glorious reward.

I've been sufficiently rewarded already, madam.

- Indeed...
- We must drink to that.

Whatever can be the matter with you, child?

What has become of all your gaiety?

- I swear, I never saw such an alteration.
- I protest.

I'm of your mother's opinion, Nancy.

But there is another masquerade
at Foxwood tomorrow.

And I happen to have two tickets.

Mr Nightingale,

such extravagant diversions are only proper
for persons of fortune and quality...

and not for young women who can at best
hope to marry a good tradesman.

Tradesman? You shan't undervalue my Nancy.

There's not a nobleman on earth
above her marriage...

Mr Nightingale, you must not fill
the girl's head with such fancies.

FOOTMAN: Letter for Mr Jones.

LADY BELLASTON: Sir,

your behaviour convinces me
how much I ought to despise a heart

which can dote upon an idiot
such as Miss Western.

Though I should admire her cunning,

for she had the assurance to deny to my face

that she knows you or ever saw you before.

Was this a scheme laid between you?

Have you been base enough to betray me?

Oh, how I despise her... and you.

Remember, sir, I can detest
as violently as I have loved.

Another letter's just arrived, Your Honour.

LADY BELLASTON: Sir, perhaps, on reflection,
some expressions in my former note

were rather too... warm.

How easy it is to think well of those we love.

I have resolved to see you tonight,
so come to me immediately.

You see, sir,

when women have gone one length too far,
they will stop at none.

If any person would have
sworn this to me a week ago,

I would not have believed it of myself.

I hope, madam, I am sensible of the many
obligations you have conferred upon me.

Sensible? Obligations?

Indeed.

Did I expect to hear such cold language
from you, Mr Jones?

Pardon me, my dear angel...

if after the letters I have received...

- The terrors of your anger.
- Have I, then, so angry a countenance?

Indeed, madam. I have done nothing to merit
Your Ladyship's anger.

My meeting with Miss Western this evening
was the merest of accidents.

I beseech you, spare me the odious recital.

Answer me but one question, and I shall be easy.

Have you betrayed my honour to her?

She's here, sir! She's here! On the stairs!

- Honour.
- Stop her a moment.

Here, madam, step behind this, here.

Madam, madam, stay, stay. Please, don't...

Hey-day, Mr Jones, your impudent servant
would scarcely let me in your room.

I hope he has not the same reason now
as he did in that boarding house in Upton.

I beg you only to whisper, Honour,
for there is a lady...

- dying in the next room.
- A lady?

Aye, I suppose it is another one
of your ladies, Mr Jones.

For to be sure, there are
far too many of them in this world.

Why, I believe we are at the house of one of them.

For my Lady Bellastan is
no better than she should be.

Hush, hush, Honour.
Every word is overheard in the next room.

I don't care a farthing.
I speak no scandal of anyone.

But to be sure, the servants make no scruple
about how Lady Bellaston

entertains young men in her bedroom, and many's
the good thing too, they say, she hath of her.

The servants are villains
and abuse their lady unjustly.

Let me escort you downstairs.

No, Mr Jones, I have not finished,
'cause you will not let me speak.

I have a letter here for you from my young lady.

To be sure, Mr Jones,
you have certainly bewitched her.

Indeed, I love her as tenderly
as if she were my own sister.

And Lord have mercy an you
if you don't make her a good husband.

Good night, Honour.

I'm sure you will do me the justice to own
I never saw the colour of your money, Mr Jones.

Good night.

You see what I have sacrificed to you?

My reputation...

my honour...

gone forever.

And what return have I found?

Neglected, slighted for a county girl.

For an idiot.

- What neglect, madam, have I been guilty of?
- Mr Jones, it is vain to dissemble.

If you will make me easy,
you must entirely give her up.

And as a proof of your intention,
show me that trollop's letter.

Can Your Ladyship ask me
to part with my honour so?

Have I acted in such a manner by Your Ladyship?

Could I be guilty of betraying
this poor, innocent girl to you?

What security could you have
that I would not act the same part by yourself?

A moment's reflection will, I am sure,

convince you that a man with whom
the secrets of a lady aren't safe

is the most contemptible of wretches.

Very well.

I need not insist on your becoming
this contemptible wretch.

For the inside of the letter could inform me
of nothing more than I already know.

SOPHIA: Sir,

it is impossible to express
what I have suffered since you left this house.

And as I have reason to think
you intend coming here again,

I have sent Honour to prevent you,

I charge you by all the regard
that you have for me,

not to think of visiting here,
for it will certainly be discovered.

Something favourable may perhaps happen.
We must wait with patience.

But if you have any concern for me,
do not think of returning here.

Your Sophy.

I'm very sorry, sir, to wait upon you
on such an occasion.

But I hope you will consider the ill consequence
it must be to the reputation of my poor Nancy,

who has little enough, heaven knows,
but her character to recommend her.

If my house should once be talked of
as a house of ill fame...

I know I have the highest obligation to you
for your generosity to my brother, Mr Jones.

And I hope you'll not think me
guilty of impertinence,

but I must beg you not to bring
any more ladies in at this time of night.

I do assure you, madam,
the lady who was just here

is a woman of very great fashion.

I don't know what fashion she is of, Mr Jones,

but I'm sure no woman of virtue
would visit a young gentleman

at such an hour in his room alone.

Indeed, Mrs Miller, I do not take this at all kindly.

I will never bring slander upon your house,

but I must insist on seeing
what company I please in my own room.

And if you shall take offence,
I shall look for another lodging.

My Lord Fellamar, Your Ladyship.
He desires to wait upon Miss Western.

Lady Bellaston.

Pray what, my lord, am I to conclude
from a visit at such an hour?

My lady, pray tell me,

who is this blazing star you have
produced among us all of a sudden?

Blazing star, my lord? What blazing star?

I mean the lady I saw at the play last night

and whom I have, by inquiry,
found out to be your relation.

Oh, Miss Western.

Why, that blazing star, my lord,
is the daughter of a country booby squire,

and has been in town for about a fortnight
for the first time.

Upon my soul, I should swear
she had been bred in court.

For besides her beauty,
I never saw anything so genteel,

so sensible, so polite.

Oh, brave. Miss Western has you, I find.

Upon my honour, I wish she had,
for I am in love with her to distraction.

Are you really, then, in earnest, my lord?

I hope, madam, you have a better opinion of me

than to imagine I would jest with Your Ladyship
in an affair of this kind.

Can you, then, get rid of your engagements,
my lord, and call here this evening?

I think I can promise you
some fine entertainment.

While Lady Bellaston endeavours
to preserve her niece from ruin with Mr Jones,

we must return post-haste to Somerset,

for yet another black design is about to be
opened up against our poor heroine.

My dearest aunt,

the occasion of your Harriet writing this
will, perhaps, make a letter of mine agreeable.

Returning from Ireland to throw
my unhappy self at your feet,

I met by the strangest accident my cousin Sophia.

Brother!

I must now tell you that unless she is
immediately prevented,

she is in danger of running into
the same fateful mischief,

which, by foolishly and ignorantly
refusing your wise and prudent advice,

I have unfortunately brought on myself.

"No time is, therefore, to be lost.

"I need only inform you that
she is now with Lady Bellaston... "

Her?

"... who has, I find, a design of
concealing her from her family. "

That fat-arse bitch! Saddle the horses!

"I hope, madam, the care which I have shown
on this occasion for the good of my family

"will recommend me again to your favour... "

"... and may be a means of
restoring me to your friendship... "

- Brother! Brother!
- Zounds! You don't sound so pleased.

Anyone would imagine you were sorry
I had found the girl.

There is a delicacy and a decorum to be used
with a woman of figure such as Lady Bellaston,

which requires a knowledge of the world
superior, I am afraid, to yours.

A confounded whore that keeps a daughter
away from her own father?

Mr Western, I think you daily improve
in ignorance.

Oh, aye, certainly. I am to blame.

I am therefore resolved to go to town myself.

If you will be governed by my advice,

it is possible you may yet preserve your daughter.

Sister, I will see thee in London.

Uncle, this is Mr Dowling,

the attorney I recommended
for the position of steward for the estate.

Very well.

A magnificent estate, sir.

I dare swear your honour will make
a very considerable figure

in the country hereabouts,
upon the death of your esteemed uncle.

The Lord's will be done, Mr Dowling.

It would be a great pity
if someone else were to inherit

such a great estate as this.

Or such a remunerative position as yours.

Be about your business, sir.

Good day to you, Mr Blifil.

Mr Western is desirous of my acquainting you
with the following circumstance,

namely, his having discovered
the whereabouts of his daughter, Miss Western,

in London.

And further, his firm resolve
to marry her to your good self immediately,

if you would but come after him to town.

I declare, Nephew,
you shall never marry Miss Western

unless she can be brought freely to compliance.

Heaven forbid, sir, that I should ever think
of prevailing with Miss Western

by any but the most gentle methods.

But the violence of my affection
for the young lady

leads me to hope I may subdue
any aversion by perseverance.

I beg you, sir, an the outcome of this affair
depends all my future repose.

And to preserve so valuable a young lady

from such a wicked man as Mr Jones,

is surely an act of the purest charity.

Though the good young gentleman
hath mentioned charity last,

I am convinced it is in reality
his first and principled consideration.

Very well, Nephew,
I shall accompany you to London,

where you may use every honest endeavour
to gain the lady's hand.

- Jack.
- Be seated.

JACK: Nothing could be mare opportune
than this meeting.

- We're engaged in a search for new lodgings.
- Wench?

Coming, sir.

Mrs Miller, it seems, is afeard for the
reputation of her daughter, you know.

Oh, she is wonderfully nice upon that account.

And then we may, I believe, be together again.

For I myself quit Mrs Miller's house this morning,

and have taken up rooms
in this fine establishment.

You surprise me greatly, sir.

Well, I had grown weary of that part of town

and wished to be nearer the places of diversion.

TOM: Poor Nancy.

I'm astonished at the blindness of her mother
in never seeing it.

What the devil should she see?

She should see, Jack, that you've made
her daughter distractedly in love with you.

Poor girl cannot conceal it a moment.
She colours every time you come into the room.

And so, according to your doctrine,
one may not amuse oneself

with any common gallantries with women?

You've gone far beyond common gallantries, Jack.

You've given her reason to believe
you have the most serious designs in her favour.

Do you suppose we have been a-bed together?

No. I don't suppose so ill of you, Jack,

for you're a very good-natured person at heart.

Well, I thank you kindly, sir.

If a little too tainted with town foppery.

- Town foppery?
- Town foppery.

Upon my soul, Mr Jones,
you will make an admirable parson.

Then I bid you good day, Mr Nightingale.

So I suppose you would not have
gone to bed with Nancy?

Why, Lord Fellamar.

What an unexpected pleasure.

You know everyone, my lord,

except, I think, my relation, Miss Western.

Miss Western, Lord Fellamar.

One of our most gallant fellows about town.

I am enchanted, madam,
to make your acquaintance again.

Pray, take your seat
for the entertainment, my lord.

Tonight we present a classical piece,
The Rape of the Sabines.

My poor girl, she's undone.

She's ruined forever.

Can I be of some service, madam?

Oh, Mr Jones, that villain, that Nightingale,

that barbarous villain has undone her.

She's... He's destroyed her.

My girl is with child by him.

With child?

And in that condition he has deserted her.

Here, you read this cruel letter
and tell me if such another monster lives.

I cannot express, madam,
how deeply shocked I am.

Poor darling. My poor Nancy.

He's ruined us all.

I am very much deceived in Mr Nightingale.

I think the picture I will lay before him
will affect him.

Comfort yourself and Nancy as well as you can.

LADY BELLASTON: My dear.

Madam, I must express my astonishment
at being subjected to such...

such a vile display.

Fie, Miss Western,

you shall bring me to despair
of introducing you into polite society.

And furthermore, let me entreat you, my lady,

not to encourage the visits
of that odious Lord Fellamar.

I see his design, for he has made
downright love to me this evening.

But as I am resolved never to admit it,
I beg Your Ladyship never to leave us alone,

and to order the servants that I may always
be denied to him if he inquires for me.

La, child.

You country girls fancy
every man who is merely civil

is making love to you.

Nevertheless, I hope his visits
shall always be denied to me.

Oh, child, you need not be so fearful.

If you are resolved to run away
with your Mr Jones...

I know no person can hinder you.

Upon my honour, madam,
I shall never run away with any man!

Nor shall I ever marry contrary
to my father's inclinations!

Surely, my dear girl, you can bear a little raillery

on a passion of which you tell me
you have so entirely got the better.

What must I think, my dear Sophia,
if you cannot bear a little ridicule on the subject?

Indeed,

I almost question whether you have
dealt quite openly with me.

What an exquisite jewel Miss Western is, madam.

Indeed, my lord, if you like her,

I heartily wish you had her.

If you think so kindly of me, madam,
and as she is a relation of yours,

will you do me the honour
to propose the match to her father?

I will most readily propose
Your Lordship to her father.

And I can, I believe, assure you
of his joyful acceptance.

But there is, I fear, a bar.

And one, my lord,
you will never be able to conquer.

A bar, my lady?

You have a rival, my lord.

And a rival who, though I blush to name him,

neither you nor all the world
will ever be able to vanquish.

Pray, tell me, who is this happy man?

Why, he is one of the lowest fellows in the world.

He is a beggar...

a bastard...

and a foundling.

And is it possible that
a creature with such perfections

should think of bestowing herself so unworthily?

Alas, my lord, how can it be prevented?

Her family have already done all in their power.

The girl is intoxicated,

and nothing less than ruin will content her.

Has Your Ladyship
endeavoured to reason with her?

Reason?

Time, my lord.
Time is the only medicine for her folly.

But that is a cure I'm certain she will not take.

Nay, I expect every day to hear
she has run away with him.

Come, my lady.

Some means must be found to preserve
so inestimable a jewel.

I fear, my lord,
that nothing but violent methods will do.

There is nothing which I would not undertake
for such a reward.

Nothing?

Nothing.

Are you frightened, my lord, by the word "rape"?

Ah, Mr Parson.

I come to you, sir,
from a family you've involved in misery and ruin.

And I am sorry for it.

For to confess the truth to you,

Nancy has my affection so absolutely

that my wife, whoever she is to be,

will have very little share in it.

And is it possible
you can be thinking of deserting her?

My father has arranged a match for me
with a woman called...

Paris.

And tomorrow, by his express command,
I'm to wait upon the lady.

- What can I do?
- What can you do less

than fulfil the expectations
of Nancy and her family?

Blimey!

Sure there was never so cursed an accident

as the poor girl's betraying
Mr Nightingale's letter.

Her reputation might otherwise have been safe.

Indeed, Partridge, it is the loss of Mr Nightingale,

and not of her reputation,
that affects poor Nancy so.

- How...
- But consider, Your Honour,

even if there were no other objections,

can he, after this publication of her disgrace,

think of such an alliance with honour?

Can he with honour
deceive a woman who loves him,

and treacherously rob her of her innocence?

Common sense, indeed,
warrants all you say, Your Worship.

But you well know the opinion of the world.

Were he to marry a whore, though she is his own,

he should be shamed of ever
showing his face again.

My dear friends, if I had no other inclination
but mine own to consult,

I should marry her tomorrow morning.

But my father would never consent
to such a match.

But suppose he could be persuaded?

If you knew my father,
you wouldn't even think of obtaining his consent.

Sir, I cannot express the esteem I have for you,

who could be so good and so generous
as to provide such a match for your son,

a woman whom I dare swear will make him
one of the happiest men upon earth.

I suppose you are one of these sparks

that lead my son into all
these scenes of riot and debauchery,

which will be his destruction.

But I shall pay no more of his bills, I promise you.

Nay, sir. Be not offended that I interest myself
in what regards your son's happiness,

for he's a dear friend of mine.

Well, sir, as to making him happy...

it will be his own fault if she does not.

For she will bring him a fortune

capable of making any prudent, sober man happy.

Undoubtedly so, for she herself is a fortune.

So beautiful, so well-tempered
and so well educated.

I did not know any of these matters,
for I never saw the lady.

But I do not like her the worse
for what you tell me.

I do assure you, sir,
she has them all to the most eminent degree.

Therefore, I came to you, sir, to entreat you
not to be averse to a match with a woman

whom not only has all the good qualities
I have mentioned, but many more.

If that was your business, sir,
you may be perfectly easy,

for I give you my word.

I was very well satisfied with her fortune.

TOM: Sir, I honour you every moment
more and more.

To be so very moderate on that account

is sure proof of your great understanding.

Not so very moderate, young gentleman.

Not so very moderate.

For sure, sir. It is a little less than madness

to consider money as
the sole foundation for happiness.

Such a woman as this
with her little nothing of a fortune.

Why, pray...

what fortune do you imagine this lady to have?

Too contemptible a one to be named for your son.

Well, perhaps he might have done better.

That I deny, for she is one of the best of women.

What signifies a mere? 200
when weighed for such a consideration?

?200?

I am certain she has 200,000.

And she shall produce 50,000 of that
before I consent that she marries my son.

But it's too late to talk of consent now, sir...

though she has not 50 farthings.
Your son is married.

My son, married?

Married?

Huh?

To Miss Harris?

Why, no. To Miss Nancy Miller.

The daughter of Mrs Miller,
at whose house he lodged.

A young lady,
though her mother is reduced to let lodgings,

has a most delicate hand at the harpsichord.

Jack!

Sir?

Upon my honour, sir,
I love Nancy so passionately...

that I am almost glad it is done,
whatever the consequences.

Then I heartily commend you and your bride, sir,

to the Devil!

- Your servant, sir.
- Your...

Jack, you must not be angry with me.

I thought it better to reconcile him
to the fact after it was done.

I'm not angry with you, Tom.

She has, after all,
a most delicate hand at the harpsichord.

But while Mr Jones was labouring
to preserve his fellow creatures from destruction,

the Devil was at work elsewhere

to make him completely miserable
with the ruin of his Sophia.

Good night, child.

Good night.

I am afraid, Miss Western,
I break in upon you abruptly.

Indeed, my lord.

I must own myself a little surprised
by this late and unexpected visit.

If this visit be unexpected, madam,

then my eyes must have been
very faithless interpreters

of my heart this evening.

My lord!

Surely, Miss Western, you could not hope
to detain my heart in your possession

without receiving a visit from its owner?

Am I really to conceive Your Lordship
to be out of your senses?

Indeed, I am. But I know that you will
forgive the effects of a frenzy

- you yourself have occasioned...
- My Lord!

My Lord... Lady Bellaston!

I have promised Lady Bellaston,

and am myself faithfully resolved

with all subsequent amends by marriage...

Lady Bellaston!

- I've unkennelled the bitch at last.
- Daddy!

For heaven's sake, sir, remember,
you're in the house of a great lady.

Let me beg you to mitigate your wrath.

You should minister a fullness of satisfactian
that you have found your daughter,

for as to revenge, it belongeth not unto us,
but unto the Lord!

But I'll forgive her,

if she will have him, I will have him sorted,
then I will forgive thee all.

I entreat you, sir, to be more moderate.

You frighten the young lady so
that you deprive her of all power of utterance.

- Power, my arse!
- What...

You take her part, then, do you?

I assure Your Worship I meant no such matter.
Humbly craving your pardon.

There, my lady cousin,

there lies the most undutiful child in the world.

Sophy!

Sophy.

Sophy, Sophy.

When you were no bigger than a tickle hen,

the sound of your voice
brought more pleasure to my ears

than all the fantastical howling of my dogs.

And now she hankers after a rascally beggar.

And won't marry the greatest match in all England
that we provided for her!

Indeed, Mr Western, I am sure she will not refuse
what is so much to her advantage.

Do you hear that, Sophy?
All your family are for the match.

Though I have not the honour, sir,
of being personally known to you

yet as I find I have the happiness
to have my proposals accepted.

Who the devil are you?

Sir, I am Lord Fellamar.

And I'm the happy man whom you have done
the honour of accepting as a son-in-law.

You're a son of a bitch.

For all your laced coat, I'll be damned with you.

I shall take more from you, sir,
than from any man,

but I must inform you, I'm not used to hearing
such language without resentment.

Resent mine arse. I'll give thee meddling
with what doth not belong to thee.

I'll lick your damn coat!

- WESTERN: Come back here.
- Very well, sir.

I shall make no disturbance before the ladies.

Your humble servant.

Lady Bellaston.

Bless me, sir, what have you done?
You know not whom you have affronted.

He is a nobleman of the
very first rank and fortune,

and today made proposals to your daughter.

- Which I am sure you must accept.
- Oh, no.

I want nothing to do with your lords, cousin.

No, no, no, no, no. No.

I have pitched on an honest
county gentleman for a son-in-law,

for his estate lies next to mine.

And I shan't marry my daughter
to strangers or foreigners.

I'm sorry for all the trouble she has
given Your Ladyship, with all my heart.

Now I bid you good night.

I'll never let thee out of my sight again.

- Honour!
- That I promise ye...

Your Ladyship. Your Ladyship! Master! Master...

I'll have no undutiful wenches in my house!

'Tis woe for me thou art a woman.

Or thou shouldst take a dance
in the duck pond, I promise ye.

- Tom, there's a lady here...
- Oh, sir, you are undone,

I am undone and my poor lady is undone.

- What's happened?
- Oh, that is bad.

- Oh, I have lost my poor lady forever.
- What?

Who'd have thought I should have ever lived
to see this day?

What? For heaven's sake, tell me?

She was the dearest lady to me.
I should never find such another place.

Damn your place, Honour.
What has become of Sophy?

Aye, to be sure, a servant's may be damned.

Her father is taking her to town
swearing that she is to marry Mr Blifil.

And as for poor me, I am turned out of doors.

No worse?

Oh, my poor Honour.

While there is life, there is hope.

Hope for you, maybe, but what about me?

I have suffered all this on your account
for taking your part against Mr Blifil.

Tom, Lady Bellaston is here on the stairs.

- Don't, no, no...
- Honour.

So, my dear Mr Jones...

you see, nothing can detain me from you long.

Perhaps I ought to be angry
that I have not heard from you all day.

Oh, Tom.
You need not think I'm going to scold you.

Mr Jones.

Hello.

I have, really, a great respect for you, Mr Jones.

But if you must converse with
such women as Lady Bellaston,

I must ask you to consider the reputation
of my house and receive her elsewhere.

The behaviour of her servants, sir,
shows just what she is.

For they do nothing
but make lewd jest in the street,

and ask if madam intends
to stay with you all night,

with a great deal of low stuff
not proper to be repeated.

- I hope you're not angry, sir.
- Madam...

I'm sure Honour is a woman of too good sense
to put any wrong construction upon my visit.

Yes, indeed, Your Ladyship, to be sure.

Is this usage to be borne, Mr Jones?

Basest of men.

With this ring, I thee wed.

JACK: With this ring, I thee wed.

PRIEST: With my body, I thee honour.

With my body, I thee honour.

PRIEST: With all my worldly goods, I thee endow.

JACK: And with all my worldly goods,
I with thee endow.

PRIEST: In the name of the Father
and of the Son

and of the Holy Ghost, Amen.

JACK: In the name of the Father...

Another letter
from Lady Bellaston, Partridge.

She commands me
to call upon her again this evening.

PRIEST: Our eternal God,
creator and preserver of...

I am so entangled with that woman.

- I know not how to extricate myself.
- Bull, your honour.

I warrant you're not
the first young fellow she has debauched.

Indeed, sir...

Any little favours you received
you should simply look upon as your wages.

But I detest the thought of ingratitude.

And it is owing solely to her
that you or I, before this,

have not even wanted for bread or water.

Tell me, Partridge,
how can I decently break with her?

Why, propose marriage to her, your honour.

- Marriage?
- Yes, indeed, your honour.

'Tis a sure method.

Propose a marriage,
and she will declare off in a moment.

A footman told me, sir, of a young gentleman
whom she kept formerly.

He made the offer to her in earnest
and was promptly turned out for his pains.

- Turned out?
- She's never been at home to him since.

TOM: Madam...

what a terror have I been in
for fear your reputation should be exposed

by last night's perverse accident.

There is only one way to secure it.

Believe me when I assure you, madam,

I can never be completely happy
without the legal right...

"... of calling you mine forever"?

LADYBELLASTON: Sir, do you really
then imagine me a fool?

Or do you fancy yourself capable of
so entirely persuading me out of my senses

that I should deliver my whole fortune
into your power

so that you may support
your pleasures at my expense?

Are these the proofs of love which I expected?

I see you are a villain,

and I despise you from my soul.

"If you come here, I shall not be at home. "

How can I ever thank you, Partridge?

Oh, Mr Jones? Mr Jones, Mr Allworthy is here.

He has arrived in town with his nephew
and his lawyer, and he asked for his usual rooms.

Mr Allworthy.

Then, madam,
to avoid any embarrassment to you,

or that man
I once had the honour to call my father,

we shall leave immediately.

Oh, sir.

- Can you forgive me?
- But, sir, where will we go?

Mr Nightingale has vacated
his rooms at the tavern.

We shall go there.

Sir, I would beg you to consider
surely it is only common courtesy

for you to greet so good a gentleman
as Mr Allworthy upon his arrival in London...

FOOTMAN: That's the squire's personal.
That one there.

.. who will surely have forgiven
Your Worship by now

after such a petty quarrel.

Indeed, Mrs Miller said he's often spoken of you
as his dearest child and his darling.

- Surely, sir, if only...
- Partridge!

Tomorrow we must find
where Miss Western is being conveyed.

FIELDING: As our hero settles in
at the Bull and Gate,

we join Squire Western and his daughter
at the Bull and Gate.

Come, Sophy.

Be a good girl and be dutiful.

And make your old father happy.

If my death will make you happy...

then you will shortly be, sir.

Damn, the pox on you!

FOOTMAN: Hold steady, then.
Be careful with that.

Some of you may be wondering

that so many of those players
in our great drama here

are brought together at this particular tavern.

But I say to you

that the ways of fortune are uncommon strange

and the blackest and deepest villainy,
as we shall see,

is sometimes discovered
by the most wonderful means.

Well, surely no one ever had
such an intolerable journey.

The roads, I think, have grown worse than ever.

La, Brother.
How could you get into such an odious place?

Na person of condition, I dare swear,
ever set foot here before.

Now, Brother, you must get yourself
a decent dress tomorrow,

for you have none at present fit to appear in.

And then we will send
our compliments to Lady Bellaston

- and desire leave to wait upon her.
- Sister...

There is a delicacy
required in this matter, Brother,

which you will pardon me if I suspect you won't?

However, if you will commit
the whole business entirely to my care,

we will, I promise you,

see my niece safe and sound in this very tavern

before the week is out.

Mr Western.

I've come to tell you, sir,

I am willing to impute your entire conduct
of last night to the effect of liquor.

And the most trifling acknowledgement
of that kind will set everything right.

For as I have the most violent attachment
to your daughter, sir,

you are the last person on earth
from whom I would resent an affront.

All I desire, therefore,
is some slight acknowledgement

before I come to pay my respects
to the young lady on the footing of lover.

Look, here, sir. To speak plainly,

my daughter is bespoke already.

Perhaps, sir, you are not sufficiently apprised
of the greatness of the offer.

I believe such a person, title and fortune,
would nowhere be refused.

I hate all lords.

They are a parcel of courtiers and Hanoverians.

I have nothing to do with any of them.

Well, sir,

if that is your resolution, I must tell you,

I desire the favour of your company
at dawn tomorrow in Hyde Park.

A pox on your favour. I'm busy and cannot come.

I see, sir...

that you are beneath my contempt.

And I am sorry I have dirtied my fingers with you.

I promise you, my lord,
you are guilty of an absurdity

in taking any offence
at such a county booby squire.

I can assure you of a most favourable reaction
from the elders of the family

and from the squire himself when he is sober.

The only danger, my lord,

lies in the fellow I mentioned formerly,

who, though a beggar and vagabond,

has, by some means or other, I know not how,

procured himself tolerable clothes
and passes for a gentleman.

This fellow is too mean
for your personal resentment, my lord.

But I am thinking

whether it would not be possible
for Your Lordship to have him taken

and sent on board a ship to the Americas?

He is, I promise you,

as proper as any fellow in the streets
to be pressed into the Navy.

I see, madam, no objection to such a scheme.

The Devil and his minions, as we see,
are still hard at work

for the ruin of Mr Jones and Miss Western.

But we must await the next and final stage
of our great journey

to witness the fruition of their foul schemes.