Tom Jones (1963) Script

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, ifAdam 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.


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

Fetch it! Fetch it, boy!

Come on. Wait!

That's fallen on Squire Western's ground.

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.

Oh, no!

Whee! Whee!

Yah-hah! Yah!


Yea! Yea, yea, yea!

Good sir...

Home, lads.

I'll get 'em another night.

I thought I'd lost you in the woods. Shortcut.

We'll be caught one of these days. Don't worry.

It's all right for you. You haven't got a family to keep.

I'll look after you.


Huh? Take this guinea.

Good night, Blackie.

Our hero, alas, was always being exploited by villains like Black George.

For a generous man is merely a fool in the eyes of a thief.

- A sheep? Aye, sir, an entire sheep.

A fat animal, enough to feed a village for a week.

Hanging up in his cottage as proud as a battle trophy.

This is a grave matter. A hanging matter.

Sir, if I may speak on his behalf, I'd like...

Be silent.

Are you guilty?

I am... guilty.

Sir, forgive him. Be quiet, sir.

I have to do justice here.

You have committed a capital crime.

The laws have provided the most terrible penalty... to hang by your neck.

But you have children.

For their sake, I shall only dismiss you my service.

And may God have mercy on you.

You're too lenient, Mr. Allworthy.

Compassion is one thing, sir, but justice is another.

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.


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.

Good, good, good.

Ah, welcome, neighbors! Ah, Squire!

Welcome, welcome. How nice to see you.

Welcome, madam.

Where's the squire? Good day, Western, good day!

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. Oh, my little bird.

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

Tom. Ah, good lad, Tom.

Do be careful. Be careful, Tom. Tom, take care.

I'll wager he gets it! Take care.

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!



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.

The weeks passed, and Mollygrew apace too.

Why, you lazy slut, you.

Look at her with her great belly, aye.

That I should ever have lived to see this day.

You'd better have minded what the parson says and not harkened after menfolks.

She's the first one of this family ever was to be a whore.

Oh, Mother, you yourself was brought to bed with Sister there a week after you was married.

Oh, but I were made an honest women of. But you...

You have to be doing with gentlemen, don't you, you nasty slut, you?

You know what you will have, don't you? You will have a bastard.

And I defy anybody to say that of me!

My gentleman'll look after me. Your gentleman.

Far from "gentleman," your gentleman.

You lay off me, or I'll tell my gentleman...

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?"

And now, my dear brethren, let us sing together the hymn, "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!


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

Back! Back! Please!

Away! Leave her! Leave her!

We don't have to fight! Out of the way!

Leave her!

Oh, Tom.

Oh, Tom.

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

Don't worry. Don't worry.


Slowly. Slowly.

Don't worry. Don't worry.

That filthy slut.

Ah, good boy, good boy.

He's a game lad, your Tom.

So, the wench is having a bastard, eh?


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 sex on account of you, Tom!

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.


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!

Stop it!

Squire, it's too early!

You'll tire yourself!

On we go!

Good hunt, everyone! Good health! Good hunting!



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!



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.


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.

"...accordingly, after narrow scru... narrow scrutiny, found some magical books,"

"several vials of strange liquors, pots of ointment."

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! It's all right. It's all right.

Now, keep... Whoa!

No, no, no! No!


Why the long face, Blif?

A terrible thing. What's happened?

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


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.


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.


Oh, sir, forgive me.

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

I had the misfortune to know who my parents were.

Consequently, I'm grieved by 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!

How dare you throw me out.

Come on.

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.



I'll carve her name on this tree.

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

Big "S."


Sophie, Sophie.

Soph... 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?


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!

How dare you? Thwackie!

Mr. Jones, control yourself.

Your unclean habit is disgraceful!

Oh, Mr. Jones.

Go away, sir! Go away, sir! Oh! Oh!

Oh! Mr. Jones!

Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones!

Hooray! Come on then!

How dare you, sir! Come on!

Take that, you wicked fool!

Halt, you there!

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!


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.


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 around one of those damned German kings, as I'm given to believe some people are.

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.




Oh, stop.



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 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!


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

Sophie! Brother!

Brother! Brother!




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?


Where is he? That parasite! That home-wrecker!

Where is he?

There they are! There!


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

Run, Tom, run!


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.

Come on, me Slouch. Come on!

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.


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.

Ah, Boycett. Sir.

Good-bye, sir.

Stay, boy. Stay.

Mr. Allworthy is very sensible of the many advantages of binding our two estates together.


I had not realized that Mr. Allworthy was so interested in questions of property.

Oh, he is.

And you?


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.


It is you who have taught her disobedience, Brother.

You are such a boor.


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.


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.


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!


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.

I'll kill you, Northerton.

I'm going to kill you, Northerton!



Must find Northerton.

Must find Northerton.







The ghost walks!

Shh. Mama.

Shh, shh, shh.

Shh. No.

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.


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!


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

Come on, me Slouch.

Get up.


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.



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.

But, Cousin, what will you do alone in London?

I have a friend.

He has taken lodgings for me in Curzon Street.


He's a dear, kind man and a peer of the realm.

You can stay with me.

Oh, may I? Come on.

But your friend. Oh, he is away for a few days.

When he returns, we will make other arrangements.

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.


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.


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.



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.



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.


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.



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


Dobson, drive on.

Get on there! Get on!

Stand and deliver.


What did you say, sir?

Stand and deliver.


I am no traveling midwife, sir. Deliver what?


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.


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.


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.

Harriet, we must do what we can for Sophie.

The girl is obviously intoxicated, and nothing less than ruin will content her.

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

Dear Mrs. Miller, what am I to do?

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.


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.


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 and, being besieged by a certain Lord Fellamar, a gentleman with an eye for any beauty, especially when a fortune was attached?

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.


Your cane, sir.


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.


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.


"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."

Courage, mon vieux.

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.


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"?

All women love a man of spirit.

Remember the story of the Sabine ladies.

I believe they made tolerably good wives afterwards.

Come this evening at 9:00.

I will see she is alone.

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.

She'll be the one to break it off.

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.


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. Put me down.

"Dearest madam," Tom had carefully written, "I am extremely concerned for fear your reputation should be exposed.

There is only one way to secure it... thatyou bestow on me the legal right to call you mine forever.

Thomas Jones."

Understand this.

I shall not receive Mr. Jones if he calls here again.

In London, love and scandal are considered the best sweeteners of tea.

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.


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!



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.


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.


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.



Have you seen a man with a big scar on his cheek?

No, can't say as I have.

But all the rogues in the district haunt that tavern yonder.

Will you accompany me?

I don't go searching for trouble, friend. It's easy enough to come by.

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.


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.

For your life, Goody! Faster!


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.

Faster, faster, faster, Goody!

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.


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.


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."