Tom Jones

Tom's a nice name.

Thomas Jones?

ALLWORTHY: She left him with us for the chance of a better life.

I cannot live with Mr. Blifil.

Sophy!

TOM: She didn't marry Blifil.

She came after me!

And look how you repaid her.

LADY BELLASTON: Sophia Western will never be yours.

If I could just tell her how much I love her.

Leave me or make love to me.

I don't belong to either of you!

SOPHIA: Mr. Jones.

That poor girl loves him.

There was a letter waiting.

TOM: It's from Sophia.

SOPHIA (voiceover): A woman can reach her lowest ebb and never know that the dark night is ending.

But a man can face defeat and exile and come back fighting...

Enough.

SOPHIA (voiceover): ...one last time.

(shop bell ringing) Tom gave up on me once.

(bells jingling) But now...

I've given up on him.

(distant door slamming) (small gasp) (stomping footsteps approaching) (keys jangling, lock turning) Locked up!

The minute I turn my back!

Oh, Aunt, I was never so glad to see your person in my life.

Don't be glad to see me, I'm just as cross with you as my brother is.

Though even more cross with him.

God, the tyranny of idiot menfolk.

Sophia, what were you thinking?

That I claim the freedom enjoyed by the simplest English village girl.

The freedom to consent.

Hmm.

I mean, child, what on earth have you done to your hair?

Honour got left behind.

Mm.

(whistling) TOM (quietly): Betsy, hey.

Tommicus?

Mama, it's Tom!

Tom's here!

No, no, no, hush.

Your mother doesn't want to see me.

I need to see Nightingale, I need his help.

Mr. Jones.

Where were you this morning... when I needed a best man?

Tom!

I'm married to Nancy.

(excited laughter) AUNT WESTERN: So not only did you abduct the child forcibly against my express instructions, and imprison her like some monster in a fairy tale... (keys jangling) Or... "All hail my hero brother, for rescuing her from certain ruin."

AUNT WESTERN: You also managed to lose the only maid servant the length and breadth of Old England capable of doing her hair.

And still you expect her to find a husband.

SOPHIA (voiceover): Grateful, of course I am.

You've both come to London to find me and I am safe, and... duty, yes, of course duty is important.

But so is love.

And I want to act from love for you, as well as from duty.

and that is why I say, dear Grandfather, I am persuaded...

So you will marry Mr. Blifil?

Never to marry at all.

(scoffs) I shall stay home with you and look after you forever.

Love and duty together, do you not see?

Young women must marry!

Or what?

Or the sky will fall in!

(Western scoffs) (groans) (groans) (horse whinnies) I did not bring you back from Jamaica, at vast expense, for you to molder and die a spinster.

(Western exiting carriage) You'll catch your death, you obstinate fool.

(carriage door shuts) You never married.

That was different.

One, I had money of my own.

Two, I was not the last of my line.

That's why he brought me back to England.

To produce a new generation of Westerns.

To bear children to carry on the family line, yes, what else?

Mr. Blifil's children?

How can I bear them, how can I love them?

I don't know, do I?

(small sigh) It's just what mothers do.

Well, I never knew my mother.

(horse nickers) AUNT WESTERN: Sophia.

You've got to marry someone.

NIGHTINGALE (laughing): I am the man of this house now, and I decree that you should have your old room back.

Your other problem I can also fix.

If you want to be sure that Lady B will not tell Sophia, you either have to make it worth her while...

I can't go to her bed again, it would be wrong.

The whole thing has been wrong since the beginning.

Or...

Call her bluff.

Tell her that you share her terror that she'll lose her reputation.

Propose to make an honest woman out of her.

(scoffs) She'll realize that you only want her fortune, and you won't see her for dust.

I don't want her fortune.

what if she says yes?

(snorts) Don't flatter yourself, Jones.

It would be cruel.

The lady says she loves me.

Silly old bat.

She's well past the age of love.

Go on, write to her.

(sighs) If...

If I could appeal to her better nature...

The lady's already shown she hasn't got one.

NIGHTINGALE (voiceover): "As your honor "is as dear to me as a... "As my own."

Mmm.

"I long to call you mine forever."

I can't do this.

It, it's not true.

It's wrong, it's...

It's ugly.

Finish the job.

Decide what you want to do with it in the morning.

(quill scratching) TOM (voiceover): "As your honor is as dear to me as my own... "Believe me when I assure you "I can never be completely happy "without you generously "bestowing on me the legal right... "...of calling you mine forever.

"Lady Bellaston, marry me."

One son I had... And you're all I've got left of him.

(sniffs) (sniffling) Tell me... About her.

I never met your mother.

SOPHIA: Anything at all... A name, or...

Your father's daughter, his name should be enough for you.

God!

It is not, though.

It is not enough.

Beneba.

It's all in the past.

All any of us know about her is that in his will, when your father freed you, he called you "my daughter with the slave known as Beneba."

Beneba.

(quietly): Mm.

(horse whinnies outside) (carriage wheels clattering) (horse whinnies) Oh, God.

(carriage door closing) (horse nickers) My lady... (horses nickering) I see I have wasted my affection on a heartless joker.

Surely you know me better than to think so.

Am I such a fool, that I should deliver my entire fortune into your power?

To call you husband, and bow to your commands?

(deep breath) My lady... My lady, that is an honor I never sought.

A, a letter I wrote but did not intend to send.

Forgive me, and believe that in all my days, I never, I never meant to hurt you.

I know you now, Mr. Jones, as a worthless villain, and I despise you from my soul.

(banging) DRIVER: Walk.

(horses nicker) (carriage wheels clattering) WESTERN: She must wed somebody while she still has a scrap of reputation to trade, and you know it.

Oh dear heavens, I am glad I never considered marriage for myself.

Mr. Blifil has money and two of everything he should have two of.

So what is her problem?

Heavens, brother, is there no limit (shouting): to your vulgarity?

And another thing!

WESTERN: Enough things for one night!

Enough things for one life.

AUNT WESTERN: Monster!

(gate creaking) (bottles clattering) Who's that?

Speak or die.

It's just a worthless villain.

It's three days since I delivered Miss Western's letter.

What took you so long?

I haven't come to rescue her, Black George.

'Cause you've got no money and no future?

Never did me any harm.

Why have you come then?

To say goodbye.

Oh.

Suit yourself.

She's in that top room, but it's too blooming dangerous.

(sighing) It's the only way.

I, I don't want you meeting your maker.

Not while you're still on my conscience.

No, Tom.

Tom.

You were given �500 by your father.

Mr. Allworthy gave it you when he kicked you out?

He did.

(chuckles) And I promptly lost it.

(stammering): Wh...

I...

I built myself a new house with it.

Oh.

Yeah.

Right.

I've not slept proper since.

Dear friend, I'm glad it made a difference to your life.

(leaves rustling) (mutters) (exhales) (leaves rustling) (clambering noisily) (Tom panting) If you've come to save me from captivity, it's too late.

My aunt beat you to it.

Please open the window.

(Sophia sighs) Thank you.

(clambering) (exhales) (catching breath) I know your grandfather will never consent to me.

But nor should he, for I am... unworthy.

Believe me, I'm never so sincere as in this moment.

I love you.

If I could marry you tomorrow, I would.

But Sophia, it's best I go away.

I ran away once.

A lifetime ago.

To find you.

But you were a child.

And this is childhood's end.

Well, maybe I'll make my fortune in America.

And even if I don't, then I'll never give up hope that one day... No.

Hope is the worst thing.

Hope keeps you awake at night, dreaming of things that can never be.

(sniffs) Goodbye, Tom.

WESTERN: Sophy?

Sophy!

They mustn't find me here.

I've said it to my pillow and I've said it to the clouds and I've said it to the trees.

But I've never said it to you.

I love you, Tom.

(softly): I love you.

AUNT WESTERN: Sophia?

(banging on door) Sophia?

(banging on door continues) (deep breaths, sniffs) Oh!

I have triumph.

(short gasp) Did I hear voices?

Oh, just the wind in the trees.

Oh.

Sophia, if you will vow to admit no other man to your heart... Well, who can control her heart?

To marry no other man, without your grandfather's consent, then he agrees to forget all about Blifil.

Can you respect his command, Sophia?

I promise.

Oh!

Mm!

SOPHIA (voiceover): I will marry no man until my grandfather commands it.

Is it not perfectly dreadful, Harriet, to learn that our niece's honor is now certainly lost?

Fearfully romantic, though.

(sighs) You actually saw the lover climbing through the window?

The criminal will stop at nothing.

LADY BELLASTON: Mr. Blifil, I do wonder why you continue to pursue the girl.

Apart from the size of her inheritance, of course.

She was promised to me, not to him.

All my life, he has taken what should rightfully be mine.

Mr. Blifil, we, the aunts, the loyal and concerned aunts, we shall help you.

(teacups clattering) Together we shall vanquish the wicked dragon Jones and restore that naughty maiden to your loving arms.

Good bye, dear.

(startled): Oh!

HARRIET (muffled): Oh, I-- (door slamming) LADY BELLASTON: Mr. Blifil... (Harriet exclaiming) We have much to discuss.

(sighs) I know you were only trying to help.

And it did work.

Lady Bellaston ran off with her wig on fire.

Just like I said.

No, we hurt her.

Badly.

And I'm just not quite sure what she might do next.

What if she takes her revenge on Sophia?

(knocking) (door creaking open) Sealing wax and everything.

It's Lady Bellaston's coat of arms.

It's an invitation.

To an art gallery?

What do I care about bloody art?

FITZPATRICK: Ha!

Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

You're not invited.

(scoffs) That's never stopped me.

(wildlife chittering) (Allworthy snoring distantly) (wheezing breath) (snoring continues) Mrs. Blifil.

Hm?

Is that...?

BRIDGET: Good Lord.

What does he want?

ALLWORTHY (voiceover): Mr. Partridge, it was not I who banished you from Little Baddington, but your lawful wife, as all agreed was fair punishment for your life of immorality.

It was not me who fathered Tom Jones.

Though I'd be proud to call him son, as you should be.

And now, sir, you are intruding on private family business.

He's a fine lad, Squire.

Kind and strong and a good heart in him, and it's just not fair what happened, to me or to him.

Oh!

Oh.

This letter...

It's just arrived.

It's clearly important, but alas, neither I nor Mrs. Wilkins can make head or tail of it.

Yes, come... Mm.

(clears throat) Is it in English?

(clears throat) After a life in the classroom, there's not a hand on God's earth that I cannot read.

Magister sum.

(mumbles) It's from Miss Western's maid-- as was, she works for the devil now.

(small chuckle) "Miss Western is in grave danger "of being married against her will and her nature.

"Please help her, "I don't know where else to turn.

"Don't tell her I writ."

(condescending chuckle) Wrote.

Actually, I was planning to tell you the very same story... A forced marriage?

Never.

I only just got here!

(horse neighing) (knocking on door) I'm here at Lady Bellaston's bidding.

(gasps) HONOUR (voiceover): I'll be nobody's maidservant soon.

Er, for I am to be married.

Oh?

It's not that surprising, surely!

Lovely young thing like me.

(laughs) (both laugh) Well, whoever he is, he's not good enough for you.

You'll laugh.

Mr. James is the landlord of the Signet.

That pub I forced you to enter?

Full of Black men.

Full of husbands.

I had my pick.

(laughs) You never told!

Men with no money, Miss.

Not for the likes of you.

Miss... Lady Bellaston has sent me on a particular errand.

"Make the young lady look her best for the exhibition tomorrow," says she, and sends me with a bag full of her feathers and her padding and her white makeup... She wants me to look like her.

(sniffs) I'd rather look like me.

(sniffs) What?

I'm so proud of you.

(both laugh) (sniffs) Miss, Lady Bellaston is a cow.

(laughs) Oh, she is!

(both laugh) (soft indistinct chatter) Let battle commence.

(horses trotting) (indistinct chatter) AUNT WESTERN: What are they all looking at?

(whispering): Please don't be shocked, but I don't trust my Aunt Bellaston.

(indistinct chatter) No, me neither, dear.

SOPHIA: Something feels wrong.

(voiceover): Something out of place.

(whispering indistinctly) AUNT WESTERN: Oh!

What on earth is he doing here?

Did you know about this?

(indistinct chatter) Sophia?

This has nothing to do with me.

(Aunt Western sighs) Cousin.

Aunt.

(inaudible whispering) You shouldn't be here.

She planning something.

I don't know what...

But it won't be nice.

(paper crinkling) Th-That's my letter.

I deserve the lady's fury, but... No, not like this.

Not... Not in front of all these people, to make Sophia read those words.

"Marry me?"

No.

Sophia.

Tom... TOM: Sophia.

AUNT WESTERN: Sophia.

SOPHIA: Tom.

TOM: Sophia?

(Tom struggling, crowd gasping) I didn't send that letter.

It's not how it looks!

(crashing, crowd gasping) (frenzied chatter) (chatter continues) Aunt, please go home.

What on earth?

I beg you!

Go home and tell my grandfather I am safe.

Now where are you going?

Sophia!

(frustrated sigh) (horse nickering, men laughing) Oh!

HARRIET: I don't believe it.

Tom?

Tom, you make too many enemies.

FITZPATRICK: I see.

No, you don't!

You don't see, Fitz.

What on earth are you doing here?

Unhand my wife this instant.

(exclaims) (crowd gasps) Oh, good heavens.

(metal rasping) Men-- ooh!

(swishing) (Fitzpatrick grunts) Fitz?

Mr. Fitzpatrick, you can see I am unarmed.

Oh, bad luck.

Fitz, put that down.

Fitz, stop it!

(grunting): Ha!

(Harriet gasps) (both grunting) (woman screams) FITZPATRICK: Oh!

(metal striking) (exclaims) (grunts) Yah!

(thudding) (crowd gasps) Oh!

What?

(groans) (crowd gasps) (metal rasping) Oh!

(thudding) (both struggling) (punch thuds) (crowd gasping) (groaning) (both struggling) (headbutt thuds) Oh!

Oh, oh!

Ah!

TOM: We can just stop this.

(exclaims) (sword piercing) (Fitzpatrick groans) (horrified gasping) (frantic murmuring) (groans) (grunts) (horse whinnying) (indistinct murmuring) Oh, you've killed me, sir.

Oh, Fitz!

Oh, my God.

Get help!

Get help, somebody!

(indistinct chatter) LADY BELLASTON: Oh, dear.

I suggest you make peace with whichever dark deity made you, Mr. Jones, for you will surely hang for this.

(gasping breath) Awful!

(drops sword) Brother!

Brother!

Is Sophia back?!

Well, a certain surprising gentleman just arrived and asked me the very same question.

And I said to him, she's doing art with my sister.

So accomplished, see?

Good Lord, brother.

Miss Western, always a pleasure.

(whimpers) I make no doubt, Mr. Allworthy, you meant it kindly when you took in that wicked, wicked foundling boy!

(sobbing) The Lord is my shepherd.

I shall not want.

(lock opening) He maketh me to lie... (cell door opens) (door creaking) (creaking) (rats squeaking) Quite what you did to upset my Lady Bellaston so, I have not the filthy mind to imagine.

You will not expect me, as a gentleman, to answer that.

Blifil.

(sighs) William... No, don't plead with me, Jones.

For I have no intention of helping a man so entirely the author of his own downfall.

(distant shouting) I want you to know, that whether they hang me, or transport me, or whether I die in a ditch, I will always think kindly of you.

Sorry?

You never asked for a foundling brother.

I was such a scamp.

Always in trouble, and...

It must have been an ordeal for you.

I see that now, and I'm sorry.

No... History.

As to the future, you will hang.

And I will marry Miss Western, whosoever shall stand against it.

And may God forgive your numberless sins.

For there is no man on earth who can help you now.

(rattles door) (keys jangling, door unlocking) SOPHIA: Should've guessed from all the hints you dropped.

"Move on, Miss.

Get away, Miss."

Lady Bellaston is a... Cow, miss.

(chuckles) Say it, it might make you feel better.

I like cows.

So why didn't you tell me?

I thought we were friends.

No, you were mistress and servant.

Is he going to do all the talking for you?

I didn't tell you 'cause I didn't want to hurt you.

You still love him and don't deny it!

I love an idea I once had of him.

(voiceover): An idea I should have left in the inn at Upton, with that woman in the room next door.

(distant coughing, bills ruffling) (door opens) (sighs) Fitz, you hopeless idiot, what mess have you got yourself into now?

Good day, madam.

Good day, Colonel.

(grunts) Thank you.

Mr. Blifil.

(door opens) Thank you for what?

Nothing important.

Important enough for you to pretend to be a colonel and him to pretend to believe you.

(laughs, winces) Yeah, Tom Jones will hang for it either way, jumped-up little bastard.

(keys jangling) Mrs.

Waters!

A riot, I hear.

A battlefield, ladies fainting in the gutters.

Paintings raining off the walls.

Just an undignified scuffle.

(scoffs) And now your Mr. Fitzpatrick lies near death and I am truly sorry.

He is very far from death.

He has always loved to pick a fight when he's feeling jealous.

That day we met...

I'm sorry, yeah, I'd only just left home, and I was sad, I needed comfort.

How old are you?

Twenty.

(light chuckle) I had no idea.

SOPHIA (voiceover): I don't think he loved her.

I don't think he loved any of them.

But still, so many women.

Well, three.

Is that a lot?

Or is that not many?

Well, what kind of question is that?

I just mean, what does it matter now?

You know, you love him, but you can't have him.

So if you still want him, you need to try harder to stop.

He's given me plenty of reasons.

Yeah, well.

I can't help thinking that people make mistakes.

People can change.

Even you, Honour?

Unfortunately, it's just the rest of the world that stays the same.

Hm, so you get the happy ending?

Well, you still get the big house.

(laughter) Hello again.

Madam.

Thank you very much.

(chuckles) Hello, sir.

Hello, Miss...?

Mrs.

Waters.

Where am I, let's have a look.

Quantum tempus!

A long time since what, sir?

Jenny Jones, it's me!

Partridge.

Salve, puella!

What are you doing here?

What are you doing here?

The first thing Mr. Allworthy did upon his arrival in Cadogan Square.

Mr. Allworthy is in London?

He sent me after news of poor, doomed Tom Jones, who languishes beyond these high prison walls.

Not doomed, and very much not languishing either.

You've seen him.

Mm.

Ah, Jenny, are you proud?

Did the babe not grow up to be a fine young fellow?

Uh, me excusa.

Vale!

Thank you very much.

Overcome with emotion.

Aw.

(keys jangling, door opening) How I should like to have witnessed your first meeting with that lady who just left!

Mrs.

Waters was at Upton!

Upton?

The next bedroom?

(chuckles) Perhaps you didn't see her there.

May the Lord have mercy upon your soul and forgive you, for as sure as I stand here alive, you have been a-bed... with your own mother.

No, her name is Jenny Waters.

Nee Jenny Jones.

She lived in my house, I'd know her anywhere.

(exhales, breathes shakily) You weren't to know.

It's not your fault.

Just bad luck.

Luck has nothing to do with it.

(inhales sharply) Neither by birth nor conduct am I any kind of gentleman!

I am nothing more than what the world sees.

A worthless bastard.

(sobs) (keys jangle, door opens) That unpleasant young man who sat by your bed.

What, Blifil?

You fancy him now, do you?

Tell me what he got for his money.

Money?

Money-- that stuff you'll do anything to get your hands on.

Mrs.

Waters.

Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

FITZPATRICK: All right, ladies.

Seconds out!

(groans) My idiot husband picked a pointless fight with Tom Jones.

Mr. Blifil took advantage and paid him to swear to the magistrate that Jones struck the first blow.

Poor Tom'll hang for that!

Needless to say, I have instructed Mr. Fitzpatrick to drop all charges.

Yeah.

All at once I find myself grown out of bad boys.

Me too!

I...

Uh...

So many wrongs to put right today.

(groans) I'm a grown woman now.

I can find my own way home.

I'll believe that when I see it.

BLIFIL (voiceover): Tom Jones is a rake, a libertine.

Utterly incapable of controlling his animal passions.

And now, he's, he's a prisoner with nothing but the gallows to look forward to.

Perhaps he did not have the best start in life.

Mother!

He wanted for nothing!

I would've preferred that he wanted for more, but he...

It is possible to be too generous, Uncle.

I don't think so, actually.

(inhales) The sword of righteousness is on my side.

Stand back, I say!

Stand back!

Tell me what you've done with my Sophy, or you'll feel the might of my wrath!

Here are a number of fine people, sir, respectable people-- Got to find my Sophy!

PARTRIDGE: Mr. Allworthy, sir, a word, please?

Go home and mind your own business!

Mr. Allworthy, sir, an entire family... Get out of my house this instant!

...who want to share with you their good opinion of Mr. Jones-- primus inter pares.

(clears throat) Sir!

We're not interested in your opinions, good or bad, of someone who nobody in this house has the slightest interest.

WESTERN: Sophy!

Love!

Sophia!

I've got servants out all over London looking for you.

Been worried sick!

NIGHTINGALE: Sir, Tom Jones is a good man.

A better man than I. HONOUR: Mr. Allworthy.

Heavens, it worked.

Honour, what have you done?

Hang him and be damned, say I!

Love conquers all, miss.

MRS.

WATERS: Mr. Allworthy.

I have urgent business with you.

Do I know you, madam?

I think you'll find you do.

(stammers) Well... Oh, this is the end.

We will have words later.

Out!

Out!

Come on, out!

out!

Miss Allworthy.

Mrs. Blifil, these many years.

What, so Mr. Blifil is your son?

Madam, how... Sir, do you still not know me?

It's Jenny Jones.

Oh!

Oh, good grief!

(chuckles) After all these years, clever little Jenny Jones.

Who is not now, nor ever was, the mother of Tom Jones.

Nor do I wish to be, for all the world.

You yourself confessed it to me.

I brought the baby to your bed.

I laid him there.

I owned him, I even named him, as I was paid to do.

But I tell you now, for his happiness depends on it, it is time for him to know that I am not his mother!

Then who is?

(Jenny sighs) BLIFIL: No.

No, it's... it's disgusting.

Tom is your son?

My first born.

Good God, Bridget!

Bridget?

William!

You think I didn't know, Mother?

I see it all so clearly now.

You always loved him more than me.

Oh, I loved you equally.

Liar!

(gasps) JENNY: So... Are you going to tell Tom, or am I?

He's coming!

BRIDGET (voiceover): Poor Jenny... To have kept my secret all these years.

Stay with me.

You're his family, not me.

Mr. Allworthy.

I used to rather like it when you call me "Father," even though that bit wasn't true.

Father.

(chuckles) I used to like it too.

Aunt Bridget.

Bridget will like it very much when you begin to call her mother.

Because that bit is true.

I, I didn't know what to do.

I, I couldn't tell anyone.

An unmarried lady.

What would the world have said?

Oh Tom, you must be so angry with me.

(chuckles (yelps) Mother.

Good Lord.

Has the whole world gone stark staring mad?

MR. ALLWORTHY: Come, Squire, I'll tell it all.

(both laugh happily) (footsteps approaching) (knocks on door, door opens) You need to come down.

Mr. Allworthy wants you.

A-ha.

I have come a long way to see you.

I know, and I am very sorry for it.

My maidservant presumed too far when she wrote to you.

Oh, my dear Miss Western, the world turns upon the presumption of maidservants!

Please, sit down.

Oh...

Nothing would, would give me greater joy than to welcome you into my family.

You are kindness itself, but I made a free choice, sir.

Yes, indeed.

My mother died a slave.

Free only in the sight of God.

And I have a duty to her memory to make her proud and to use my freedom wisely.

Yes, that's, that's... that, that's well said.

But I, but I find I do have another nephew who might suit you rather better.

He's taller, for instance.

Sir, it's very kind of you, but I need no more nephews.

I have had my fill of courting and wooing and wasting my tears.

(door opens) (stammers) Ah.

He, he's here.

Oh!

Miss Western, may I present my older nephew, Tom Jones.

It's a long story.

Right-- no, no, no.

Steady.

Come along.

Bridget.

(people murmuring, footsteps retreating) ALLWORTHY: No.

Bridget.

No, there's no need for... (indistinct murmuring) (door closes) So it turns out I'm no longer a bastard.

Well, no, I'm the same man I always was and still a bastard, but a bastard now with a family and a fortune, and we can be married.

We can live happily ever after.

Sophia, will you marry me?

No!

I am a Christian.

It is my duty to forgive you, and I do so, sincerely.

But that doesn't mean that I can forget what you've done, or marry you in spite of it, or, or ever trust you.

Sophia, look at me.

I'm a man now, a grown man.

I know what empty pleasure looks like, and I thank my lucky stars that I know what true happiness looks like.

It looks like you.

There was a time when I would have married you, Tom Jones, and lived beneath those lucky stars on fresh air and kisses.

But now is no good, for I won't live in London, I won't even visit.

I don't mind.

My first child, if she is a girl, must be called Beneba.

Like my mother.

Beneba, yes, lovely.

I'll watch your conduct and give you my answer in a year.

Wait a year?!

(chuckles) Now you see, you cannot control yourself.

Yes, I can.

Watch.

That's it, little honeys!

That's the spirit.

Ha ha, look at the pair of them!

Can't take their hands off each other!

Grandfather, please!

So, when shall it be?

Tomorrow, the next day?

She'll have you in to bed with all her heart.

Confess, girl, and be honest.

What have I said?

The lady wants to wait a year, sir.

A year!

We could all be dead in a year!

Contrary little madam!

Now, you come here, madam.

Come along.

(chuckles) Will you do as you're told?

Oh, will you ever stop telling me what to do?

When you've got a husband to love and honor, then I'll gladly give up the job!

So what exactly is your command?

You will marry Tom Jones tomorrow!

Well then, Mr. Jones...

Here is my hand.

(excited mutterings) (laughter) (cheers, laughter) (knocking) My lady!

I've nowhere else to go!

(door opens) SOPHIA (voiceover): I wish I could promise everyone a happy ending instead of the ending they deserve.

But for all those of us who do make it back to the land, back to the light, and, actually, that's all the rest of us.

For us... (laughter, clapping) ...the sun will shine on a magical wedding day.

A day for new beginnings and new chapters.

In which Honour will marry Mr. James and become a pub landlady.

Partridge will dance his way back to his old life.

(laughter) Nancy will try to make a better man of Nightingale.

Though Betsy will always prefer her Tommicus.

And in the absence of Mr. Fitzpatrick, Jenny and Harriet will flourish.

As for what story lies ahead for Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Jones, well, what do you think?

(giggles) SOPHIA: Have you asked her, about your real father?

I don't like to.

No, no, no, no, no!

(giggles) I don't think she wants to tell me.

Besides, between us we've got all the fathers we need.

Love conquers all.

SOPHIA (voiceover): And so the past becomes a place we leave behind.

New lives beginning.

Two families united.

Where secrets are abandoned and blame is forgotten.

For at the end of all our adventures, here begins the biggest adventure of all.

ANNOUNCER: Go to our website, listen to our podcast, watch video and more.

To order this program, visit ShopPBS.

"Masterpiece" is available with PBS Passport and on Amazon Prime Video.