In which Mr Western visits Mr Allworthy.
Mr Allworthy was now retired from breakfast with his
nephew, well satisfied with the report of the young
gentleman’s successful visit to Sophia (for
he greatly desired the match, more on account of the
young lady’s character than of her riches),
when Mr Western broke abruptly in upon them, and without
any ceremony began as follows:—
“There, you have done a fine piece of work truly!
You have brought up your bastard to a fine purpose;
not that I believe you have had any hand in it neither,
that is, as a man may say, designedly: but there
is a fine kettle-of-fish made on’t up at our
house.” “What can be the matter,
Mr Western?” said Allworthy. “O, matter
enow of all conscience: my daughter hath fallen
in love with your bastard, that’s all; but I
won’t ge her a hapeny, not the twentieth part
of a brass varden. I always thought what would
come o’ breeding up a bastard like a gentleman,
and letting un come about to vok’s houses.
It’s well vor un I could not get at un:
I’d a lick’d un; I’d a spoil’d
his caterwauling; I’d a taught the son of a
whore to meddle with meat for his master. He
shan’t ever have a morsel of meat of mine, or
a varden to buy it: if she will ha un, one smock
shall be her portion. I’d sooner ge my
esteate to the zinking fund, that it may be sent to
Hanover to corrupt our nation with.” “I
am heartily sorry,” cries Allworthy. “Pox
o’ your sorrow,” says Western; “it
will do me abundance of good when I have lost my only
child, my poor Sophy, that was the joy of my heart,
and all the hope and comfort of my age; but I am resolved
I will turn her out o’ doors; she shall beg,
and starve, and rot in the streets. Not one hapeny,
not a hapeny shall she ever hae o’ mine.
The son of a bitch was always good at finding a hare
sitting, an be rotted to’n: I little thought
what puss he was looking after; but it shall be the
worst he ever vound in his life. She shall be
no better than carrion: the skin o’er is
all he shall ha, and zu you may tell un.”
“I am in amazement,” cries Allworthy, “at
what you tell me, after what passed between my nephew
and the young lady no longer ago than yesterday.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Western, “it
was after what passed between your nephew and she
that the whole matter came out. Mr Blifil there
was no sooner gone than the son of a whore came lurching
about the house. Little did I think when I used
to love him for a sportsman that he was all the while
a poaching after my daughter.” “Why
truly,” says Allworthy, “I could wish you
had not given him so many opportunities with her;
and you will do me the justice to acknowledge that
I have always been averse to his staying so much at
your house, though I own I had no suspicion of this
kind.” “Why, zounds,” cries
Western, “who could have thought it? What
the devil had she to do wi’n? He did not
come there a courting to her; he came there a hunting
