Dinnerbeingover,Bathsheba,forwantofabettercompanion,hadaskedLiddytocomeandsitwithher。Themouldypilewasdrearyinwinter-timebeforethecandleswerelightedandtheshuttersclosed;theatmosphereoftheplaceseemedasoldasthewalls;everynookbehindthefurniturehadatemperatureofitsown,forthefirewasnotkindledinthispartofthehouseearlyintheday;andBathsheba’snewpiano,whichwasanoldoneinotherannals,lookedparticularlyslopingandoutoflevelonthewarpedfloorbeforenightthrewashadeoveritslessprominentanglesandhidtheunpleasantnessLiddy,likealittlebrook,thoughshallow,wasalwaysrippling;herpresencehadnotsomuchweightastotaskthought,andyetenoughtoexerciseit。
OnthetablelayanoldquartoBible,boundinleather。Liddylookingatitsaid,——
`Didyoueverfindout,miss,whoyouaregoingtomarrybymeansoftheBibleandkey?’
`Don’tbesofoolish,Liddy。Asifsuchthingscouldbe。’
`Well,there’sagooddealinit,allthesame。’
`Nonsense,child。’
`Anditmakesyourheartbeatfearful。Somebelieveinit;somedon’t;
Ido。’
`Verywell,let’stryit,’saidBathsheba,boundingfromherseatwiththattotaldisregardofconsistencywhichcanbeindulgedintowardsadependant,andenteringintothespiritofdivinationatonce。`Goandgetthefrontdoorkey。’
Liddyfetchedit。`Iwishitwasn’tSunday,’shesaid,onreturning。
`Perhaps’tiswrong。’
`What’srightweekdaysisrightSundays,’repliedhermistressinatonewhichwasaproofinitself。
Thebookwasopened-theleaves,drabwithage,beingquitewornawayatmuch-readversesbytheforefingersofunpractisedreadersinformerdays,wheretheyweremovedalongunderthelineasanaidtothevision。
ThespecialverseintheBookofRuthwassoughtoutbyBathsheba,andthesublimewordsmethereye。Theyslightlythrilledandabashedher。
ItwasWisdomintheabstractfacingFollyintheconcrete。Follyintheconcreteblushed,persistedinherintention,andplacedthekeyonthebook。Arustypatchimmediatelyupontheverse,causedbypreviouspressureofanironsubstancethereon,toldthatthiswasnotthefirsttimetheoldvolumehadbeenusedforthepurpose。
`Nowkeepsteady,andbesilent,’saidBathsheba。
Theversewasrepeated;thebookturnedround;Bathshebablushedguiltily。
`Whodidyoutry?’saidLiddycuriously。
`Ishallnottellyou。’
`DidyounoticeMrBoldwood’sdoingsinchurchthismorning,miss?’
Liddycontinued,adumbratingbytheremarkthetrackherthoughtshadtaken。
`No,indeed,’saidBathsheba,withsereneindifference。
`Hispewisexactlyoppositeyours,miss。’
`Iknowit。’
`Andyoudidnotseehisgoingson!’
`CertainlyIdidnot,Itellyou。’
Liddyassumedasmallerphysiognomy,andshutherlipsdecisively。
Thismorewasunexpected,andproportionatelydisconcerting。`Whatdidhedo?’Bathshebasaidperforce。
`Didn’tturnhisheadtolookatyouoncealltheservice。’
`Whyshouldhe?’againdemandedhermistress,wearinganettledlook。
`Ididn’taskhimto。’
`Oh,no。Buteverybodyelsewasnoticingyou;anditwasoddhedidn’t。
There,’tislikehim。Richandgentlemanly,whatdoeshecare?’
BathshebadroppedintoasilenceintendedtoexpressthatshehadopinionsonthemattertooabstruseforLiddy’scomprehension,ratherthanthatshehadnothingtosay。
`Dearme-IhadnearlyforgottenthevalentineIboughtyesterday,’
sheexclaimedatlength。
`Valentine!whofor,miss?’saidLiddy。`FarmerBoldwood?’
ItwasthesinglenameamongallpossiblewrongonesthatjustatthismomentseemedtoBathshebamorepertinentthantheright。
`Well,no。ItisonlyforlittleTeddyCoggan。Ihavepromisedhimsomething,andthiswillbeaprettysurpriseforhim。Liddy,youmayaswellbringmemydeskandI’lldirectitatonce。
Bathshebatookfromherdeskagorgeouslyilluminatedandembosseddesigninpost-octavo,whichhadbeenboughtonthepreviousmarket-dayatthechiefstationer’sinCasterbridge。Inthecentrewasasmallovalenclosure;
thiswasleftblank,thatthesendermightinserttenderwordsmoreappropriatetothespecialoccasionthananygeneralitiesbyaprintercouldpossiblybe。
`Here’saplaceforwriting,’saidBathsheba。`WhatshallIput?’
`Somethingofthissort,Ishouldthink,’returnedLiddypromptly:——`Theroseisred,Thevioletblue,Carnation’ssweet,Andsoareyou。’`Yes,thatshallbeit。Itjustsuitsitselftoachubby-facedchildlikehim,’saidBathsheba。Sheinsertedthewordsinasmallthoughlegiblehandwriting;enclosedthesheetinanenvelope,anddippedherpenforthedirection。
`WhatfunitwouldbetosendittothestupidoldBoldwood,andhowhewouldwonder!’saidtheirrepressibleLiddy,liftinghereyebrows,andindulginginanawfulmirthonthevergeoffearasshethoughtofthemoralandsocialmagnitudeofthemancontemplated。
Bathshebapausedtoregardtheideaatfilllength。Boldwood’shadbeguntobeatroublesomeimage-aspeciesofDanielinherkingdomwhopersistedinkneelingeastwardwhenreasonandcommonsensesaidthathemightjustaswellfollowsuitwiththerest,andaffordhertheofficialglanceofadmirationwhichcostnothingatall。Shewasfarfrombeingseriouslyconcernedabouthisnonconformity。Still,itwasfaintlydepressingthatthemostdignifiedandvaluablemanintheparishshouldwithholdhiseyes,andthatagirllikeLiddyshouldtalkaboutit。SoLiddy’sideawasatfirstratherharassingthanpiquant。
`No,Iwon’tdothat。Hewouldn’tseeanyhumourinit。’
`He’dworrytodeath,’saidthepersistentLiddy。
`Really,Idon’tcareparticularlytosendittoTeddy,’remarkedhermistress。`He’sratheranaughtychildsometimes。’
`Yes-thatheis。’
`Let’stoss,asmendo,’saidBathshebaidly。`Nowthen,head,Boldwood;
tail,Teddy。No,wewon’ttossmoneyonaSunday,thatwouldbetemptingthedevilindeed。’
`Tossthishymn-book;therecan’tbenosinfulnessinthat,miss。’
`Verywell。Open,Boldwood-shut,Teddy。No;it’smoreliketofallopen。Open,Teddy-shut,Boldwood。’
Thebookwentflutteringintheairandcamedownshut。
Bathsheba,asmallyawnuponhermouth,tookthepen,andwithoff-handserenitydirectedthemissivetoBoldwood。
`Nowlightacandle,Liddy。Whichsealshallweuse?Here’saunicornshead-there’snothinginthat。What’sthis?-twodoves-no。Itoughttobesomethingextraordinary,oughtitnot,Lidd?Here’sonewithamotto-Irememberitissomefunnyone,butIcan’treadit。`We’lltrythis,andifitdoesn’tdowe’llhaveanother。’
Alargeredsealwasdulyaffixed。Bathshebalookedcloselyatthehotwaxtodiscoverthewords。
`Capital!’sheexclaimed,throwingdowntheletterfrolicsomely。`’Twouldupsetthesolemnityofaparsonandclerktoo。’
Liddylookedatthewordsoftheseal,andread——`MARRYME。’Thesameeveningtheletterwassent,andwasdulysortedinCasterbridgepost-officethatnight,tobereturnedtoWeatherburyagaininthemorning。
SoveryidlyandunreflectinglywasthisdeeddoneofloveasaspectacleBathshebahadafairknowledge;butoflovesubjectivelysheknewnothing。
CHAPTERFOURTEENEffectoftheLetter-SunriseAtduskontheeveningofStValentine’sDayBoldwoodsatdowntosupperasusual,byabeamingfireofagedlogs。Uponthemantelshelfbeforehimwasatime-piece,surmountedbyaspreadeagle,andupontheeagle’swingswastheletterBathshebahadsent。Herethebachelorsgazewascontinuallylisteningitself,tillthelargeredsealbecameasablotofbloodontheretinaofhiseye;andasheateanddrankhestillreadinfancythewordsthereon,althoughtheyweretooremoteforhissight——`MARRYME。’Thepertinjunctionwaslikethosecrystalsubstances,which,colourlessthemselves,assumethetoneofobjectsaboutthem。Here,inthequietofBoldwood’sparlour,whereeverythingthatwasnotgravewasextraneous,andwheretheatmospherewasthatofaPuritanSundaylastingalltheweek,theletteranditsdictumchangedtheirtenorfromthethoughtlessnessoftheirorigintoadeepsolemnity,imbibedfromtheiraccessoriesnow。
Sincethereceiptofthemissiveinthemorning,Boldwoodhadfeltthesymmetryofhisexistencetobeslowlygettingdistortedinthedirectionofanidealpassion。ThedisturbancewasasthefirstfloatingweedtoColumbus*-thecontemptiblylittlesuggestingpossibilitiesoftheinfinitelygreat。
Thelettermusthavehadanoriginandamotive。Thatthelatterwasofthesmallestmagnitudecompatiblewithitsexistenceatall,Boldwood,ofcourse,didnotknow。Andsuchanexplanationdidnotstrikehimasapossibilityeven。Itisforeigntoamystifiedconditionofmindtorealizeofthemystifierthattheprocessesofapprovingacoursesuggestedbycircumstance,andofstrikingoutacoursefrominnerimpulse,wouldlookthesameintheresult。Thevastdifferencebetweenstartingatrainofevents,anddirectingintoaparticulargrooveaseriesalreadystarted,israrelyapparenttothepersonconfoundedbytheissue。
WhenBoldwoodwenttobedheplacedthevalentineinthecornerofthelooking-glass。Hewasconsciousofitspresence,evenwhenhisbackwasturneduponit。ItwasthefirsttimeinBoldwood’slifethatsuchaneventhadoccurred。Thesamefascinationthatcausedhimtothinkitanactwhichhadadeliberatemotivepreventedhimfromregardingitasanimpertinence。
Helookedagainatthedirection。Themysteriousinfluencesofnightinvestedthewritingwiththepresenceoftheunknownwriter。Somebody’s-somewoman’s-handhadtravelledsoftlyoverthepaperbearinghisname;
herunrevealedeyeshadwatchedeverycurveassheformedit;herbrainhadseenhiminimaginationthewhile。`Whyshouldshehaveimaginedhim?
Hermouth-werethelipsredorpale,plumporcreased?-hadcurveditselftoacertainexpressionasthepenwenton-thecornershadmovedwithalltheirnaturaltremulousness:whathadbeentheexpression?
Thevisionofthewomanwriting,asasupplementtothewordswritten,hadnoindividuality。Shewasamistyshape,andwellshemightbe,consideringthatheroriginalwasatthatmomentsoundasleepandobliviousofallloveandletter-writingunderthesky。WheneverBoldwooddozedshetookaform,andcomparativelyceasedtobeavision:whenheawoketherewastheletterjustifyingthedream。
Themoonshoneto-night,anditslightwasnotofacustomarykind。
Hiswindowadmittedonlyareflectionofitsrays,andthepalesheenhadthatreverseddirectionwhichsnowgives,comingupwardandlightinguphisceilinginanunnaturalway,castingshadowsinstrangeplaces,andputtinglightswhereshadowshadusedtobe。
Thesubstanceoftheepistlehadoccupiedhimbutlittleincomparisonwiththefactofitsarrival。Hesuddenlywonderedifanythingmoremightbefoundintheenvelopethanwhathehadwithdrawn。Hejumpedoutofbedintheweirdlight,tooktheletter,pulledouttheflimsysheet,shooktheenvelope-searchedit。Nothingmorewasthere。Boldwoodlooked,ashehadahundredtimestheprecedingday,attheinsistentredseal:`Marryme,’hesaidaloud。
Thesolemnandreservedyeomanagainclosedtheletter,andstuckitintheframeoftheglass。Indoingsohecaughtsightofhisreflectedfeatures,waninexpression,andinsubstantialinform。Hesawhowcloselycompressedwashismouth,andthathiseyeswerewide-spreadandvacant。
Feelinguneasyanddissatisfiedwithhimselfforthisnervousexcitabilityhereturnedtobed。
Thenthedawndrewon。Thefillpoweroftheclearheavenwasnotequaltothatofacloudyskyatnoon,whenBoldwoodaroseanddressedhimself。
Hedescendedthestairsandwentouttowardsthegateofafieldtotheeast,leaningoverwhichhepausedandlookedaround。
Itwasoneoftheusualslowsunrisesofthistimeoftheyear,andthesky,purevioletinthezenith,wasleadentothenorthward,andmurkytotheeast,where,overthesnowydownorewe-lease*onWeatherburyUpperFarm,andapparentlyrestingupontheridge,theonlyhalfofthesunyetvisibleburntrayless,likearedandflamelessfireshiningoverawhitehearthstone。Thewholeeffectresembledasunsetaschildhoodresemblesage。
Inotherdirectionsthefieldsandskyweresomuchofonecolourbythesnowthatitwasdifficultinahastyglancetotellwhereaboutsthehorizonoccurred;andingeneraltherewashere,too,thatbefore-mentionedpreternaturalinversionoflightandshadewhichattendstheprospectwhenthegarishbrightnesscommonlyintheskyisfoundontheearth,andtheshadesofearthareinthesky。Overthewesthungthewastingmoon,nowdullandgreenish-yellow,liketarnishedbrass。
Boldwoodwaslistlesslynotinghowthefrosthadhardenedandglazedthesurfaceofthesnow,tillitshoneintheredeasternlightwiththepolishofmarble;how,insomeportionsoftheslope,witheredgrass-bents,encasedinicicles,bristledthroughthesmoothwancoverletinthetwistedandcurvedshapesofoldVenetianglass;andhowthefoot-printsofafewbirds,whichhadhoppedoverthesnowwhilstitlayinthestateofasoftfleece,werenowfrozentoashortpermanency。Ahalf-mufflednoiseoflightwheelsinterruptedhim。Boldwoodturnedbackintotheroad。Itwasthemail-cart-acrazytwo-heeledvehicle,hardlyheavyenoughtoresistapuffofwind。Thedriverheldoutaletter。Boldwoodseizeditandopenedit,expectinganotheranonymousone-sogreatlyarepeople’sideasofprobabilityameresensethatprecedentwillrepeatitself。
`Idon’tthinkitisforyou,sir,’saidtheman,whenhesawBoldwood’saction。`Thoughthereisnoname,Ithinkitisforyourshepherd。’
Boldwoodlookedthenattheaddress——TotheNewShepherd,WeatherburyFarm,NearCasterbridge。`Oh-whatamistake!-itisnotmine。Norisitformyshepherd。ItisforMissEverdene’s。Youhadbettertakeitontohim-GabrielOak-andsayIopeneditinmistake。’
Atthismomentontheridge,upagainsttheblazingsky,afigurewasvisible,liketheblacksnuffinthemidstofacandle-flame。Thenitmovedandbegantobustleaboutvigorouslyfromplacetoplace,carryingsquareskeletonmasses,whichwereriddledbythesamerays。Asmallfigureonallfoursfollowedbehind。ThetallformwasthatofGabrielOak;thesmallonethatofGeorge;thearticlesincourseoftransitwerehurdles。
`Wait,’saidBoldwood。`That’sthemanonthehill。I’lltakethelettertohimmyself。’
ToBoldwooditwasnownolongermerelyalettertoanotherman。Itwasanopportunity。Exhibitingafacepregnantwithintention,heenteredthesnowyfield。
Gabriel,atthatminute,descendedthehilltowardstheright。Theglowstretcheddowninthisdirectionnow,andtouchedthedistantroofofWarren’sMalthouse-whithertheshepherdwasapparentlybent。Boldwoodfollowedatadistance。
CHAPTERFIFTEENAMorningMeeting-TheLetteragainThescarletandorangelightoutsidethemalthousedidnotpenetratetoitsinterior,whichwas,asusual,lightedbyarivalglowofsimilarhue,radiatingfromthehearth。
Themaltster,afterhavinglaindowninhisclothesforafewhours,wasnowsittingbesideathree-leggedtable,breakfastingoffbreadandbacon。Thiswaseatenontheplatelesssystem,whichisperformedbyplacingasliceofbreaduponthetable,themeatflatuponthebread,amustardplasteruponthemeat,andapinchofsaltuponthewhole,thencuttingthemverticallydownwardswithalargepocket-knifetillwoodisreached,whentheseveredlumpisimpaledontheknife,elevated,andsenttheproperwayoffood。
Themaltster’slackofteethappearednottosensiblydiminishhispowersasamill。Hehadbeenwithoutthemforsomanyyearsthattoothlessnesswasfeltlesstobeadefectthanhardgumsanacquisition。Indeed,heseemedtoapproachthegraveasahyperboliccurveapproachesastraightline-lessdirectlyashegotnearer,tillitwasdoubtfulifhewouldeverreachitatall。
Intheashpitwasaheapofpotatoesroasting,andaboilingpipkinofcharredbread,called`coffee’,forthebenefitofwhomsoevershouldcall,for`Warren’swasasortofclubhouse,usedasanalternativetotheinn。
`Isay,saysI,wegetafineday,andthendowncomesasnapperatnight,’wasaremarknowsuddenlyheardspreadingintothemalthousefromthedoor,whichhadbeenopenedthepreviousmoment。TheformofHeneryFrayadvancedtothefire,stampingthesnowfromhisbootswhenabouthalfwaythere。Thespeechandentryhadnotseemedtobeatallanabruptbeginningtothemaltster,introductorymatterbeingoftenomittedinthisneighbourhood,bothfromwordanddeed,andthemaltsterhavingthesamelatitudeallowedhim,didnothurrytoreply。Hepickedupafragmentofcheesebypeckinguponitwithhisknife,asabutcherpicksupskewers。
Heneryappearedinadrabkerseymeregreatcoat,buttonedoverhissmock-frock,thewhiteskirtsofthelatterbeingvisibletothedistanceofaboutafootbelowthecoat-tails,which,whenyougotusedtothestyleofdress,lookednaturalenough,andevenornamental-itcertainlywascomfortable。
MatthewMoon,JosephPoorgrass,andothercartersandwaggonersfollowedathisheels,withgreatlanternsdanglingfromtheirhands,whichshowedthattheyhadjustcomefromthecart-horsestables,wheretheyhadbeenbusilyengagedsincefouro’clockthatmorning。
`Andhowisshegettingonwithoutabaily?’themaltsterinquired。
Heneryshookhishead,andsmiledoneofthebittersmiles,draggingallthefleshofhisforeheadintoacorrugatedheapinthecentre。
`She’llrueit-surely,surely!’hesaid。`BenjyPennywayswerenotatruemanoranhonestbaily-asbigabetrayerasJoeyIscariothimself。
Buttothinkshecancarryonalone!’Heallowedhisheadtoswinglaterallythreeorfourtimesinsilence。`Neverinallmycreepingup-never!’
Thiswasrecognizedbyallastheconclusionofsomegloomyspeechwhichhadbeenexpressedinthoughtaloneduringtheshakeofthehead;Henerymeanwhileretainedseveralmarksofdespairuponhisface,toimplythattheywouldberequiredforuseagaindirectlyheshouldgoonspeaking。
`Allwillberuined,andourselvestoo,orthere’snomeatingentlemen’shouses!’saidMarkClark。
`Aheadstrongmaid,that’swhatsheis-andwon’tlistentonoadviceatall。Prideandvanityhaveruinedmanyacobbler’sdog。Dear,dear,whenIthinko’it,Isorrowslikeamanintravel!’
`True,Henery,youdo,I’veheardye,’saidJosephPoorgrass,inavoiceofthoroughattestation,andwithawire-drawnsmileofmisery。
`’Twoulddoamartelmannoharmtohavewhat’sunderherbonnet,’saidBillySmallbury,whohadjustentered,bearinghisonetoothbeforehim。
`Shecanspaikreallanguage,andmusthavesomesensesomewhere。Doyefollerme?’
`Ido;butnobaily-Ideservedthatplace,’wailedHenery,signifyingwastedgeniusbygazingblanklyatvisionsofahighdestinyapparentlyvisibletohimonBillySmallbury’ssmock-frock。`There,’twastobe,I
suppose。Yourlotisyourlot,andScriptureisnothing;forifyoudogoodyoudon’tgetrewardedaccordingtoyourworks,butbecheatedinsomemeanwayoutofyourrecompense。
`No,no;Idon’tagreewith’eethere,’saidMarkClark。`God’saperfectgentlemaninthatrespect。’
`Goodworksgoodpay,sotospeakit,’attestedJosephPoorgrass。
Ashortpauseensued,andasasortofentr’acteHeneryturnedandblewoutthelanterns,whichtheincreaseofdaylightrenderednolongernecessaryeveninthemalthouse,withitsonepaneofglass。
`Iwonderwhatafarmer-womancanwantwithaharpsichord,dulcimer,pianner,orwhatever’tistheyd’callit?’saidthemaltster。`Liddysaithshe’veanewone。’
`Gotapianner?’
`Ay。Seemsherolduncle’sthingswerenotgoodenoughforher。She’veboughtallbuteverythingnew。There’sheavychairsforthestout,weakandwiryonesfortheslender;greatwatches,gettingontothesizeofclocks,tostanduponthechimbley-piece。’
`Pictures,forthemostpartwonderfulframes。’
`Andlonghorse-hairsettlesforthedrunk,withhorse-hairpillowsateachend,’saidMrClark。`Likewiselooking-glassesforthepretty,andlyingbooksforthewicked。’
Afirmloudtreadwasnowheardstampingoutside;thedoorwasopenedaboutsixinches,andsomebodyontheothersideexclaimed——
`Neighbours,haveyegotroomforafewnew-bornlambs?’
`Ay,sure,shepherd,’saidtheconclave。
Thedoorwasflungbacktillitkickedthewallandtrembledfromtoptobottomwiththeblow。MrOakappearedintheentrywithasteamingface,haybandswoundabouthisanklestokeepoutthesnow,aleatherstraproundhiswaistoutsidethesmock-frock,andlookingaltogetheranepitomeoftheworld’shealthandvigour。Fourlambshunginvariousembarrassingattitudesoverhisshoulders,andthedogGeorge,whomGabrielhadcontrivedtofetchfromNorcombe,stalkedsolemnlybehind。
`Well,ShepherdOak,andhow’slambingthisyear,ifImidsayit?’
inquiredJosephPoorgrass。
`Terribletrying,’midOak。`I’vebeenwetthroughtwicea-day,eitherinsnoworrain,thislastfortnight。CainyandIhaven’ttinedoureyestonight。’
`Agoodfewtwins,too,Ihear?’
`Toomanybyhalf。Yes;’tisaveryqueerlambingthisyear。`Weshan’thavedonebyLadyDay。’
`Andlastyear’tweralloverbySexajessamineSunday,’Josephremarked。
`Bringontherest,Cain,’saidGabriel,`andthenrunbacktotheewes。
I’llfollowyousoon。’
CainyBall-acheery-facedyounglad,withasmallcircularorificebywayofmouth,advancedanddepositedtwoothers,andretiredashewasbidden。Oakloweredthelambsfromtheirunnaturalelevation,wrappedtheminhay,andplacedthemroundthefire。
`We’venolambing-huthere,asIusedtohaveatNorcombe,’saidGabriel,`and’tissuchaplaguetobringtheweaklyonestoahouse。If’twasn’tforyourplacehere,malter,Idon’tknowwhatIshoulddo,thiskeenweather。
Andhowisitwithyouto-day,malter?’
`Oh,neithersicknorsorry,shepherd;butnoyounger。`Ay-Iunderstand。’
`Sitdown,ShepherdOak,’continuedtheancientmanofmalt。`AndhowwastheoldplaceatNorcombe,whenyewentforyourdog?Ishouldliketoseetheoldfamiliarspot;butfaith,Ishouldn’tknowasoultherenow。’
`Isupposeyouwouldn’t。’Tisalteredverymuch。’
`IsittruethatDickyHill’swoodencider-houseispulleddown?’
`Oyes-yearsago’andDicky’scottagejustaboveit。’
“Well,tobesure!’
`Yes;andTompkins’soldapple-treeisrootedthatusedtobeartwohogsheadsofcider,andnohelpfromothertrees。’
`Rooted?-youdon’tsayit!Ah!stirringtimeswelivein-stirringtimes。’
`Andyoucanmindtheoldwellthatusedtobeinthemiddleoftheplace?That’sturnedintoasolidironpumpwithalargestonetrough,andallcomplete。’
`Dear,dear-howthefaceofnationsalter,andwhatwelivetoseenowadays!Yes-and’tisthesamehere。They’vebeentalkingbutnowofthemis’ess’sstrangedoings。’
`Whathaveyoubeensayingabouther?’inquiredOak,sharplyturningtotherest,andgettingverywarm。
`Thesemiddle-agedmenhavebeenpullingheroverthecoalsforprideandvanity,’saidMarkClark;`butIsay,letherhaveropeenough。Blessherprettyface-shouldn’tIliketodoso-uponhercherrylips!’ThegallantMarkClarkheremadeapeculiarandwell-knownsoundwithhisown。
`Mark,’saidGabrielsternly,`nowyoumindthis:noneofthatdalliance-talk-thatsmack-and-coddlestyleofyours-aboutMissEverdene。Idon’tallowit。Doyouhear?’
`Withallmyheart,asI’vegotnochance,’repliedMrClarkcordially。
`Isupposeyou’vebeenspeakingagainsther?’saidOak,turningtoJosephPoorgrasswithaverygrimlook。
`No,no-notawordI——’tisarealjoyfulthingthatshe’snoworse,that’swhatIsay,’saidJoseph,tremblingandblushingwithterror。`Matthewjustsaid-’
`MatthewMoon,whathaveyoubeensaying?’askedOak。
`I?WhyyeknowIwouldn’tharmaworm-no,notoneundergroundworm?’
saidMatthewMoon,lookingveryuneasy。
`Well,somebodyhas-andlookhere,neighbours。’Gabriel,thoughoneofthequietestandmostgentlemenonearth,rosetotheoccasion,withmartialpromptnessandvigour。`That’smyfist。’Hereheplacedhisfist,rathersmallerinsizethanacommonloaf,inthemathematicalcentreofthemaltster’slittletable,andwithitgaveabumportwothereon,asiftoensurethattheireyesallthoroughlytookintheideaoffistinessbeforehewentfurther。`Now-thefirstmanintheparishthatIhearprophesyingbadofourmistress,why’herethefistwasraisedandletfall,asThormighthavedonewithhishammerinassayingit-`he’llsmellandtastethat-orI’maDutchman。’
AllearnestlyexpressedbytheirfeaturesthattheirmindsdidnotwandertoHollandforamomentonaccountofthisstatement,butweredeploringthedifferencewhichgaverisetothefigure;andMarkClarkcried`Hear,hear;justwhatIshouldha’said。’ThedogGeorgelookedupatthesametimeaftertheshepherd’smenace,and,thoughheunderstoodEnglishbutimperfectly,begantogrowl。
`Now,don’tyetakeonso’shepherd,andsitdown!’saidHenery,withadeprecatingpeacefulnessequaltoanythingofthekindinChristianity。
`Wehearthatyebeaextraordinarygoodandcleverman,shepherd,’
saidJosephPoorgrasswithconsiderableanxietyfrombehindthemaltster’sbedstead,whitherhehadretiredforsafety。`’Tisagreatthingtobeclever,I’msure,’headded,makingmovementsassociatedwithstatesofmindratherthanbody;`wewishwewere,don’twe,neighbours?’
`Ay,thatwedo,sure,’saidMatthewMoon,withasmallanxiouslaughtowardsOak,toshowhowveryfriendlydisposedhewaslikewise。
`Who’sbeentellingyouI’mclever?’saidOak。
`’Tisblowedaboutfrompillartopostquitecommon,saidMatthew。`Wehearthatyecantellthetimeaswellbythestarsaswecanbythesunandmoon,shepherd。’
`Yes,Icandoalittlethatway,’saidGabriel,asamanofmediumsentimentsonthesubject。
`Andthatyecanmakesundials,andprentfolks’namesupontheirwaggonsalmostlikecopper-plate,withbeautifulflourishes,andgreatlongtails。
Aexcellentfinethingforyetobesuchacleverman,shepherd。JosephPoorgrassusedtoprenttoFarmerJamesEverdene’swaggonsbeforeyoucame,and`acouldnevermindwhichwaytoturntheJ’sandE’s-couldye,Joseph?’
Josephshookhisheadtoexpresshowabsolutewasthefactthathecouldn’t。
`Andsoyouusedtodo’emthewrongway,likethis,didn’tye,Joseph?’
Matthewmarkedonthedustyfloorwithhiswhip-handleJAMES`AndhowFarmerJameswouldcuss,andcalltheeafool,wouldn’the,Joseph,when’aseedhisnamelookingsoinside-out-like?’continuedMatthewMoon,withfeeling。
`Ay——’awould,’saidJosephmeekly。`But,yousee,Iwasn’tsomuchtoblue,forthemJ’sandE’sbesuchtryingsonso’witchesforthememorytomindwhethertheyfacebackwardorforward;andIalwayshadsuchaforgetfulmemory,too。’
`’Tisabadafflictionforye,beingsuchamanofcalamitiesinotherways。’
`Well,’tis;butahappyProvidenceorderedthatitshouldbenoworse,andIfeelmythanks。Astoshepherd,there,I’msuremis’essoughttohavemadeyeherbaily-suchafittingmanfor’tasyoube。’
`Idon’tmindowningthatIexpectedit,’saidOakfrankly。`Indeed,Ihopedfortheplace。Atthesametime,MissEverdenehasarighttobeherownbailyifshechoose-andtokeepmedowntobeacommonshepherdonly。’Oakdrewaslowbreath,lookedsadlyintothebrightashpit,andseemedlostinthoughtsnotofthemosthopefulhue。
Thegenialwarmthofthefirenowbegantostimulatethenearlylifelesslambstobleatandmovetheirlimbsbrisklyuponthehay,andtorecognizeforthefirsttimethefactthattheywereborn。Theirnoiseincreasedtoachorusofbaas,uponwhichOakpulledthemilk-canfrombeforethefire,andtakingasmalltea-potfromthepocketofhissmock-frock,filleditwithmilk,andtaughtthoseofthehelplesscreatureswhichwerenottoberestoredtotheirdamshowtodrinkfromthespout-atricktheyacquiredwithastonishingaptitude。
`Andshedon’tevenletyehavetheskinsofthedeadlambs,Ihear?’
resumedJosephPoorgrass,hiseyeslingeringontheoperationsofOakwiththenecessarymelancholy。
`Idon’thavethem,’saidGabriel。
`Yebeverybadlyused,shepherd,’hazardedJosephagain,inthehopeofgettingOakasanallyinlamentationafterall。`Ithinkshe’stookagainstye-thatIdo。’
`Ono-notatall,’repliedGabrielhastily,andasighescapedhim,whichthedeprivationoflambskinscouldhardlyhavecaused。
Beforeanyfurtherremarkhadbeenaddedashadedarkenedthedoor,andBoldwoodenteredthemalthouse,bestowinguponeachanodofaqualitybetweenfriendlinessandcondescension。
`Ah!Oak,Ithoughtyouwerehere,’hesaid。`Imetthemail-carttenminutesago,andaletterwasputintomyhand,whichIopenedwithoutreadingtheaddress。Ibelieveitisyours。Youmustexcusetheaccident,please。’
`Oyes-notabitofdifference,MrBoldwood-notabit,’saidGabrielreadily。Hehadnotacorrespondentonearth,norwasthereapossiblelettercomingtohimwhosecontentsthewholeparishwouldnothavebeenwelcometoperuse。
Oaksteppedaside,andreadthefollowinginanunknownhand:——`DearFriend——
Idonotknowyourname,butIthinkthesefewlineswillreachyou,whichIwritetothankyouforyourkindnesstomethenightIleftWeatherburyinarecklessway。IalsoreturnthemoneyIoweyou,whichyouwillexcusemynotkeepingasagift。Allhasendedwell,andIamhappytosayIamgoingtobemarriedtotheyoungmanwhohascourtedmeforsometime-
SergeantTroy,ofthe11thDragoonGuards,nowquarteredinthistown。
Hewould,Iknow,objecttomyhavingreceivedanythingexceptasaloan,beingamanofgreatrespectabilityandhighhonour-indeed,anoblemanbyblood。
`Ishouldbemuchobligedtoyouifyouwouldkeepthecontentsofthisletterasecretforthepresent,dearfriend。WemeantosurpriseWeatherburybycomingtheresoonashusbandandwife,thoughIblushtostateittoonenearlyastranger。ThesergeantgrewupinWeatherbury。Thankingyouagainforyourkindness,Iam,yoursincerewell-wisher,FANNYROBIN’`Haveyoureadit,MrBoldwood?’saidGabriel;`ifnot,youhadbetterdoso。IknowyouareinterestedinFannyRobin。’
Boldwoodreadtheletterandlookedgrieved。
`Fanny-poorFanny!theendsheissoconfidentofhasnotyetcome,sheshouldremember-andmaynevercome。Iseeshegivesnoaddress。’
`WhatsortofamanisthisSergeantTroy?’saidGabriel。
`H’m-I’mafraidnotonetobuildmuchhopeuponinsuchacaseasthis,’thefarmermurmured,`thoughhe’sacleverfellow,anduptoeverything。
Aslightromanceattachestohim,too。HismotherwasaFrenchgoverness,anditseemsthatasecretattachmentexistedbetweenherandthelateLordSevern。Shewasmarriedtoapoormedicalman,andsoonafteraninfantwasborn;andwhilemoneywasforthcomingallwentonwell。Unfortunatelyforherboy,hisbestfriendsdied;andhegotthenasituationassecondclerkatalawyer’sinCasterbridge。Hestayedthereforsometime,andmighthaveworkedhimselfintoadignifiedpositionofsomesorthadhenotindulgedinthewildfreakofenlisting。IhavemuchdoubtifeverlittleFannywillsurpriseusinthewayshementions-verymuchdoubt。
Asillygirl-sillygirl!’
Thedoorwashurriedlyburstopenagain,andincamerunningCainyBalloutofbreath,hismouthredandopen,likethebellofapennytrumpet,fromwhichhecoughedwithnoisyvigourandgreatdistensionofface。
`Now,CainBall,’saidOaksternly,`whywillyourunsofastandloseyourbreathso?I’malwaystellingyouofit。’
`O-I-apuffofmeebreath-went-thewrongway,please,MisterOak,andmademecough-hok-hok!’
`Well-whathaveyoucomefor?’
`I’veruntotellye,’saidthejuniorshepherd,supportinghisexhaustedyouthfulframeagainstthedoorpost,`thatyoumustcomedirectly。Twomoreeweshavetwinned-that’swhat’sthematter,ShepherdOak。’
`Oh,that’sit,’saidOak,jumpingupanddismissingforthepresenthisthoughtsonpoorFanny。`Youareagoodboytorunandtellme,Cain,andyoushallsmellalargeplumpuddingsomedayasatreat。But,beforewego,Cainy,bringthetarpot,andwe’llmarkthislotandhavedonewith’em。’
Oaktookfromhisillimitablepocketsamarkingiron,dippeditintothepot,andimprintedonthebuttocksoftheinfantsheeptheinitialsofherhedelightedtomuseon-`B。E。’,whichsignifiedtoalltheregionroundthathenceforththelambsbelongedtoFarmerBathshebaEverdene,andtonooneelse。
`Now,Cainy,shoulderyourtwo’andoffGoodmorning,MrBoldwood。’
Theshepherdliftedthesixteenlargelegsandfoursmallbodieshehadhimselfbrought,andvanishedwiththeminthedirectionofthelambingfieldhardby-theirframesbeingnowinasleekandhopefulstate,pleasantlycontrastingwiththeirdeath’s-doorplightofhalfanhourbefore。
Boldwoodfollowedhimalittlewayupthefield,hesitated,andturnedback。Hefollowedhimagainwithalastresolve,annihilatingreturn。Onapproachingthenookinwhichthefoldwasconstructed,thefarmerdrewouthispocket-book,unfastenedit,andallowedittolieopenonhishand。
Aletterwasrevealed-Bathsheba’s。
`Iwasgoingtoaskyou,Oak,’hesaid,withunrealcarelessness,`ifyouknowwhosewritingthisis?’
Oakglancedintothebook,andrepliedinstantly,withaflushedface,`MissEverdene’s。’
Oakhadcolouredsimplyattheconsciousnessofsoundinghername。Henowfeltastrangelydistressingqualmfromanewthought。Thelettercouldofcoursebenootherthananonymous,ortheinquirywouldnothavebeennecessary。
Boldwoodmistookhisconfusion:sensitivepersonsarealwaysreadywiththeir`IsitI?’inpreferencetoobjectivereasoning。
`Thequestionwasperfectlyfair,’hereturned-andtherewassomethingincongruousintheseriousearnestnesswithwhichheappliedhimselftoanargumentonavalentine。`Youknowitisalwaysexpectedthatprivyinquirieswillbemade:that’swherethe-funlies。’Iftheword`fun’
hadbeen`torture’,itcouldnothavebeenutteredwithamoreconstrainedandrestlesscountenancethanwasBoldwood’sthen。
SoonpartingfromGabriel,thelonelyandreservedmanreturnedtohishousetobreakfast-feelingtwingesofshameandregretathavingsofarexposedhismoodbythosefeveredquestionstoastranger。Heagainplacedtheletteronthemantelpiece,andsatdowntothinkofthecircumstancesattendingitbythelightofGabriel’sinformation。
CHAPTERSIXTEENAllSaints’andAllSouls’Onaweek-daymorningasmallcongregation,consistingmainlyofwomenandgirls,rosefromitskneesinthemouldynaveofachurchcalledAllSaints’,inthedistantbarrack-townbefore-mentioned,attheendofaservicewithoutasermon。Theywereabouttodisperse,whenasmartfootstep,enteringtheporchandcomingupthecentralpassage,arrestedtheirattention。
Thestepechoedwitharingunusualinachurch:itwastheclinkofspurs。
Everybodylooked。Ayoungcavalrysoldierinareduniform,withthethreechevronsofasergeantuponhissleeve,strodeuptheaisle,withanembarrassmentwhichwasonlythemoremarkedbytheintensevigourofhisstep,andbythedeterminationuponhisfacetoshownone。Aslightflushhadmountedhischeekbythetimehehadrunthegauntletbetweenthesewomen:but,passingonthroughthechancelarch,heneverpausedtillhecameclosetothealtarrailing。Hereforamomenthestoodalone。
Theofficiatingcurate,whohadnotyetdoffedhissurplice,perceivedthenewcomer,andfollowedhimtothecommunion-space。Hewhisperedtothesoldier,andthenbeckonedtotheclerk,whoinhisturnwhisperedtoanelderlywoman,apparentlyhiswife,andtheyalsowentupthechancelsteps。
`’Tisawedding!’murmuredsomeofthewomen,brightening。`let’swait!’
Themajorityagainsatdown。
Therewasacreakingofmachinerybehind,andsomeoftheyoungonesturnedtheirheads。Fromtheinteriorfaceofthewestwallofthetowerprojectedalittlecanopywithaquarter-jackandsmallbellbeneathit,theautomatonbeingdrivenbythesameclockmachinerythatstruckthelargebellinthetower。Betweenthetowerandthechurchwasaclosescreen,thedoorofwhichwaskeptshutduringservices,hidingthisgrotesqueclockworkfromsight。Atpresent,however,thedoorwasopen,andtheegressofthejack,theblowsonthebell,andthemannikin’sretreatintothenookagain,werevisibletomany,andaudiblethroughoutthechurch。
Thejackhadstruckhalf-pasteleven。
`Where’sthewoman?’whisperedsomeofthespectators。
Theyoungsergeantstoodstillwiththeabnormalrigidityoftheoldpillarsaround。Hefacedthesouth-east,andwasassilentashewasstill。
Thesilencegrewtobeanoticeablethingastheminuteswenton,andnobodyelseappeared,andnotasoulmoved。Thetattleofthequarter-jackagainfromitsniche,itsblowsforthree-quarters,itsfussyretreat,werealmostpainfullyabrupt,andcausedmanyofthecongregationtostartpalpably。
`Iwonderwherethewomanis!’avoicewhisperedagain。
Therebegannowthatslightshiftingoffeet,thatartificialcoughingamongseveral,whichbetraysanervoussuspense。Atlengththerewasatitter。Butthesoldiernevermoved。Therehestood,hisfacetothesouth-east,uprightasacolumn,hiscapinhishand。
Theclockedtickedon。Thewomenthrewofftheirnervousness,andtittersandgigglingbecamemorefrequent。Thencameadeadsilence。Everyonewaswaitingfortheend。Somepersonsmayhavenoticedhowextraordinarilythestrikingofquartersseemstoquickentheflightoftime。Itwashardlycrediblethatthejackhadnotgotwrongwiththeminuteswhentherattlebeganagain,thepuppetemerged,andthefourquarterswerestruckfitfullyasbefore。Onecouldalmostbepositivethattherewasamaliciousleeruponthehideouscreature’sface,andamischievousdelightinitstwitchings。
Thenfollowedthedullandremoteresonanceofthetwelveheavystrokesinthetowerabove。Thewomenwereimpressed,andtherewasnogigglethistime。
Theclergymanglidedintothevestry,andtheclerkvanished。Thesergeanthadnotyetturned;everywomaninthechurchwaswaitingtoseehisface,andheappearedtoknowit。Atlasthedidturn,andstalkedresolutelydownthenave,bravingthemall,withacompressedlip。Twobowedandtoothlessoldalmsmenthenlookedateachotherandchuckled,innocentlyenough;
butthesoundhadastrangeweirdeffectinthatplace。
Oppositetothechurchwasapavedsquare,aroundwhichseveraloverhangingwoodbuildingsofoldtimecastapicturesqueshade。Theyoungmanonleavingthedoorwenttocrossthesquare,when,inthemiddle,hemetalittlewoman。Theexpressionofherface,whichhadbeenoneofintenseanxiety,sankatthesightofhisnearlytoterror。
`Well?’hesaid,inasuppressedpassion,fixedlylookingather。
`OFrank-Imadeamistake!-IthoughtthatchurchwiththespirewasAllSaints’,andIwasatthedoorathalf-pasteleventoaminuteasyousaid。Iwaitedtillaquartertotwelve,andfoundthenthatIwasinAllSouls’。ButIwasn’tmuchfrightened,forIthoughtitcouldbeto-morrowaswell。’
`Youfool,forsofoolingme!Butsaynomore。’
`Shallitbeto-morrow,Frank?’sheaskedblankly。
`To-morrow!’andhegaveventtoahoarselaugh。`Idon’tgothroughthatexperienceagainforsometime;Iwarrantyou!’
`Butafterall,’sheexpostulatedinatremblingvoice,`themistakewasnotsuchaterriblething!Now,dearFrank,whenshallitbe?’
`Ah,when?Godknows!’hesaid,withalightirony,andturningfromherwalkedrapidlyaway。
CHAPTERSEVENTEENIntheMarket-placeOnSaturdayBoldwoodwasinCasterbridgemarket-houseasusual,whenthedisturberofhisdamsentered,andbecamevisibletohim。Adamhadawakenedfromhisdeepsleep,andbehold!therewasEve。Thefarmertookcourage,andforthefirsttimereallylookedather。
Materialcausesandemotionaleffectsarenottobearrangedinregularequation。Theresultfromcapitalemployedintheproductionofanymovementofamentalnatureissometimesastremendousasthecauseitselfisabsurdlyminute。Whenwomenareinafreakishmoodtheirusualintuition,eitherfromcarelessnessorinherentdefect,seeminglyfailstoteachthemthis,andhenceitwasthatBathshebawasfatedtobeastonishedto-day。
Boldwoodlookedather-notslily,critically,orunderstandingly,butblanklyatgaze,inthewayareaperlooksupatapassingtrain-
assomethingforeigntohiselement,andbutdimlyunderstood。ToBoldwoodwomenhadbeenremotephenomenaratherthannecessarycomplements-cometsofsuchuncertainaspect,movement,andpermanence,thatwhethertheirorbitswereasgeometrical,unchangeable,andassubjecttolawsashisown,orasabsolutelyerraticastheysuperficiallyappeared,hehadnotdeemedithisdutytoconsider。
Hesawherblackhair,hercorrectfacialcurvesandprofile,andtheroundnessofherchinandthroat。Hesawthenthesideofhereyelids,eyes,andlashes,andtheshapeofherear。Nexthenoticedherfigure,herskirt,andtheverysolesofhershoes。
Boldwoodthoughtherbeautiful,butwonderedwhetherhewasrightinhisthought,foritseemedimpossiblethatthisromanceintheflesh,ifsosweetasheimagined,couldhavebeengoingonlongwithoutcreatingacommotionofdelightamongmen,andprovokingmoreinquirythanBathshebahaddone,eventhoughthatwasnotalittle。Tothebestofhisjudgementneithernaturenorartcouldimprovethisperfectoneofanimperfectmany。
Hisheartbegantomovewithinhim。Boldwood,itmustberemembered,thoughfortyyearsofage,hadneverbeforeinspectedawomanwiththeverycentreandforceofhisglance;theyhadstruckuponallhissensesatwideangles。
`Wasshereallybeautiful?Hecouldnotassurehimselfthathisopinionwastrueevennow。Hefurtivelysaidtoaneighbour,`IsMissEverdeneconsideredhandsome?’
`Oyes;shewasagooddealnoticedthefirsttimeshecame,ifyouremember。Averyhandsomegirlindeed。’
Amanisnevermorecredulousthaninreceivingfavourableopinionsonthebeautyofawomanheishalforquite,inlovewith;amerechild’swordonthepointhastheweightofanR。A。’sBoldwoodwassatisfiednow。
Andthischarmingwomanhadineffectsaidtohim,`Marryme。’
`Whyshouldshehavedonethatstrangething?Boldwood’sblindnesstothedifferencebetweenapprovingofwhatcircumstancessuggest,andoriginatingwhattheydonotsuggest,waswellmatchedbyBathsheba’sinsensibilitytothepossiblygreatissuesoflittlebeginnings。
Shewasatthismomentcoollydealingwithadashingyoungfarmer,addingupaccountswithhimasindifferentlyasifhisfacehadbeenthepagesofaledger。ItwasevidentthatsuchanatureashishadnoattractionforawomanofBathsheba’staste。ButBoldwoodgrewhotdowntohishandswithanincipientjealousy;hetrodforthefirsttimethethresholdof`theinjuredlover’shell’Hisfirstimpulsewastogoandthrusthimselfbetweenthem。Thiscouldbedone,butonlyinoneway-byaskingtoseeasampleofhercorn。Boldwoodrenouncedtheidea。Hecouldnotmaketherequest;itwasdebasinglovelinesstoaskittobuyandsell,andjarredwithhisconceptionsofher。
AllthistimeBathshebawasconsciousofhavingbrokenintothatdignifiedstrongholdatlast。Hiseyes,sheknew,werefollowinghereverywhere。
Thiswasatriumph;andhaditcomenaturally,suchatriumphwouldhavebeenthesweetertoherforthispiquingdelay。Butithadbeenbroughtaboutbymisdirectedingenuity,andshevalueditonlyasshevaluedanartificialflowerorawaxfruit。
Beingawomanwithsomegoodsenseinreasoningonsubjectswhereinherheartwasnotinvolved,BathshebagenuinelyrepentedthatafreakwhichhadoweditsexistenceasmuchtoLiddyastoherself,shouldeverhavebeenundertaken,todisturbtheplacidityofamansherespectedtoohighlytodeliberatelytease。
Shethatdaynearlyformedtheintentionofbegginghispardonontheverynextoccasionoftheirmeeting。Theworstfeaturesofthisarrangementwerethat,ifhethoughtsheridiculedhim,anapologywouldincreasetheoffencebybeingdisbelieved;andifhethoughtshewantedhimtowooher,itwouldreadlikeadditionalevidenceofherforwardness。
CHAPTEREIGHTEENBoldwoodinMeditation-RegretBoldwoodwastenantofwhatwascalledLittleWeatherburyFarm,andhispersonwasthenearestapproachtoaristocracythatthisremoterquarteroftheparishcouldboastof。Genteelstrangers,whosegodwastheirtown,whomighthappentobecompelledtolingeraboutthisnookforaday,heardthesoundoflightwheels,andprayedtoseegoodsociety,tothedegreeofasolitarylord,orsquireattheveryleast,butitwasonlyMrBoldwoodgoingoutfortheday。Theyheardthesoundofwheelsyetoncemore,andwerere-animatedtoexpectancy:itwasonlyMrBoldwoodcominghomeagain。
Hishousestoodrecessedfromtheroad,andthestables,whicharetoafarmwhatafireplaceistoaroom,werebehind,theirlowerportionsbeinglostamidbushesoflaurel。Insidethebluedoor,openhalfwaydown,weretobeseenatthistimethebacksandtailsofhalf-a-dozenwarmandcontentedhorsesstandingintheirstalls;andasthusviewed,theypresentedalternationsofroanandbay,inshapeslikeaMoorisharch,thetailbeingastreakdownthemidstofeach。Overthese,andlosttotheeyegazinginfromtheouterlight,themouthsofthesameanimalscouldbeheardbusilysustainingtheabove-namedwarmthandplumpnessbyquantitiesofoatsandhay。Therestlessandshadowyfigureofacolt`wanderedaboutaloose-boxattheend,whilstthesteadygrindofalltheeaterswasoccasionallydiversifiedbytherattleofaropeorthestampofafoot。
PacingupanddownattheheelsoftheanimalswasFarmerBoldwoodhimselfThisplacewashisalmonryandcloistersinone:here,afterlookingtothefeedingofhisfour-footeddependants,thecelibatewouldwalkandmeditateofaneveningtillthemoon’sraysstreamedinthroughthecobwebbedwindows,ortotaldarknessenvelopedthescene。
Hissquare-framedperpendicularityshowedmorefullynowthaninthecrowdandbustleofthemarket-house。Inthismeditativewalkhisfootmetthefloorwithheelandtoesimultaneously,andhisfinereddish-fleshedfacewasbentdownwardsjustenoughtorenderobscurethestillmouthandthewell-roundedthoughratherprominentandbroadchin。Afewclearandthread-likehorizontallinesweretheonlyinterruptiontotheotherwisesmoothsurfaceofhislargeforehead。
ThephasesofBoldwood’slifewereordinaryenough,buthiswasnotanordinarynature。Thatstillness,whichstruckcasualobserversmorethananythingelseinhischaracterandhabit,andseemedsopreciselyliketherestofinanition,mayhavebeentheperfectbalanceofenormousantagonisticforces-positivesandnegativesinfineadjustment。Hisequilibriumdisturbed,hewasinextremityatonce。Ifanemotionpossessedhimatall,itruledhim;afeelingnotmasteringhimwasentirelylatent。Stagnantorrapid,itwasneverslow。Hewasalwayshitmortally,orhewasmissed。
Hehadnolightandcarelesstouchesinhisconstitution,eitherforgoodorforevil。Stemintheoutlinesofaction,mildinthedetails,hewasseriousthroughoutall。Hesawnoabsurdsidestothefolliesoflife,andthus,thoughnotquitecompanionableintheeyesofmerrymenandscoffers,andthosetowhomallthingsshowlifeasajest,hewasnotintolerabletotheearnestandthoseacquaintedwithgrief。Beingamanwhoreadallthedramasoflifeseriously,ifhefailedtopleasewhentheywerecomedies,therewasnofrivoloustreatmenttoreproachhimforwhentheychancedtoendtragically。
Bathshebawasfarfromdreamingthatthedarkandsilentshape-uponwhichshehadsocarelesslythrownaseedwasahotbedoftropicintensityHadsheknownBoldwood’smoodsherblamewouldhavebeenfearful,andthestainuponherheartineradicable。Moreover,hadsheknownherpresentpowerforgoodoreviloverthisman,shewouldhavetrembledatherresponsibility。
Luckilyforherpresent,unluckilyforherfuturetranquillity,herunderstandinghadnotyettoldherwhatBoldwoodwas。Nobodyknewentirely;forthoughitwaspossibletoformguessesconcerninghiswildcapabilitiesfromoldfloodmarksfaintlyvisible,hehadneverbeenseenatthehightideswhichcausedthem。
FarmerBoldwoodcametothestable-doorandlookedforthacrossthelevelfields。Beyondthefirstenclosurewasahedge,andontheothersideofthisameadowbelongingtoBathsheba’sfarm。
Itwasnowearlyspring-thetimeofgoingtograsswiththesheep,whentheyhavethefirstfeedofthemeadows,beforethesearelaidupformowing。Thewind,whichhadbeenblowingeastforseveralweeks,hadveeredtothesouthward,andthemiddleofspringhadcomeabruptly-almostwithoutabeginning。ItwasthatperiodinthevernalquarterwhenwemaysupposetheDryadstobewakingfortheseason。Thevegetableworldbeginstomoveandswellandthesapstorise,tillinthecompletestsilenceoflonegardensandtracklessplantations,whereeverythingseemshelplessandstillafterthebondandslaveryoffrost,therearebustlings,strainings,unitedthrusts,andpulls-all-together,incomparisonwithwhichthepowerfultugsofcranesandpulleysinanoisycityarebutpigmyefforts。
Boldwood,lookingintothedistantmeadows,sawtherethreefigures。
TheywerethoseofMissEverdene,ShepherdOak,andCainyBall。
WhenBathsheba’sfigureshoneuponthefarmer’seyesitlightedhimupasthemoonlightsupagreattower。Aman’sbodyisastheshell,orthetablet,ofhissoul,asheisreservedoringenuous,overflowingorself-contained。TherewasachangeinBoldwood’sexteriorfromitsformerimpassibleness;andhisfaceshowedthathewasnowlivingoutsidehisdefencesforthefirsttime,andwithafearfulsenseofexposure。Itistheusualexperienceofstrongnatureswhentheylove。
Atlasthearrivedataconclusion。Itwastogoacrossandinquireboldlyofher。
Theinsulationofhisheartbyreserveduringthesemanyyears,withoutachannelofanykindfordisposableemotion,hadworkeditseffect。Ithasbeenobservedmorethanoncethatthecausesoflovearechieflysubjective,andBoldwoodwasalivingtestimonytothetruthoftheproposition。Nomotherexistedtoabsorbhisdevotion,nosisterforhistenderness,noidletiesforsense。Hebecamesurchargedwiththecompound,whichwasgenuinelover’slove。
Heapproachedthegateofthemeadow。Beyonditthegroundwasmelodiouswithripples,andtheskywithlarks;thelowbleatingoftheflockminglingwithboth。Mistressandmanwereengagedintheoperationofmakingalamb`take’,whichisperformedwheneveranewehaslostherownoffspring,oneofthetwinsofanotherewebeinggivenherasasubstitute。Gabrielhadskinnedthedeadlamb,andwastyingtheskinoverthebodyofthelivelambinthecustomarymanner,whilstBathshebawasholdingopenalittlepenoffourhurdles,intowhichthemotherandfoistedlambweredriven,wheretheywouldremaintilltheoldsheepconceivedanaffectionfortheyoungone。
Bathshebalookedupatthecompletionofthemanoeuvreandsawthefarmerbythegate,wherehewasoverhungbyawillowtreeinfullbloom。Gabriel,towhomherfacewasastheuncertaingloryofanAprilday,wasveryregardfulofitsfaintestchanges,andinstantlydiscernedthereonthemarkofsomeinfluencefromwithout,intheformofakeenlyself-consciousreddening。
HealsoturnedandbeheldBoldwood。
AtonceconnectingthesesignswiththeletterBoldwoodhadshownhim,Gabrielsuspectedherofsomecoquettishprocedurebeginbythatmeans,andcarriedonsince,heknewnothow。
FarmerBoldwoodhadreadthepantomimedenotingthattheywereawareofhispresence,andtheperceptionwasastoomuchlightturnedurnhisnewsensibility。Hewasstillintheroad,andbymovingonhehopedthatneitherwouldrecognizethathehadoriginallyintendedtoenterthefield。
Hepassedbywithanutterandoverwhelmingsensationofignorance,shyness,anddoubt。Perhapsinhermannerthereweresignsthatshewishedtoseehim-perhapsnot-hecouldnotreadawoman。Thecabalaofthiseroticphilosophyseemedtoconsistofthesubtlestmeaningsexpressedinmisleadingways。Everyturn,look,word,andaccentcontainedamysteryquitedistinctfromitsobviousimport,andnotonehadeverbeenponderedbyhimuntilnow。
AsforBathsheba,shewasnotdeceivedintothebeliefthatFarmerBoldwoodhadwalkedbyonbusinessorinidleness。Shecollectedtheprobabilitiesofthecase,andconcludedthatshewasherselfresponsibleforBoldwood’sappearancethere。Ittroubledhermuchtoseewhatagreatflamealittlewildfirewaslikelytokindle。Bathshebawasnoschemerformarriage,norwasshedeliberatelyatriflerwiththeaffectionsofmen,andacensorsexperienceonseeinganactualflirtafterobservingherwouldhavebeenafeelingofsurprisethatBathshebacouldbesodifferentfromsuchaone,andyetsolikewhataflirtissupposedtobe。
Sheresolvedneveragain,bylookorbysign,tointerruptthesteadyflowofthisman’slife。Butaresolutiontoavoidanevilisseldomframedtilltheevilissofaradvancedastomakeavoidanceimpossible。
CHAPTERNINETEENTheSheep-washing-TheOfferBoldwooddideventuallycalluponher。Shewasnotathome。`Ofcoursenot,’hemurmured。IncontemplatingBathshebaasawoman,hehadforgottentheaccidentsofherpositionasanagriculturist-thatbeingasmuchofafarmer,andasextensiveafarmer,ashimself,herprobablewhereabouts`wasout-of-doorsatthistimeoftheyear。This,andtheotheroversightsBoldwood`wasguiltyofwerenaturaltothemood,andstillmorenaturaltothecircumstances。Thegreataidstoidealizationinlovewerepresenthere:occasionalobservationofherfromadistance,andtheabsenceofsocialintercoursewithher-visualfamiliarity,oralstrangeness。Thesmallerhumanelementswerekeptoutofsight;thepettinessesthatentersolargelyintoallearthlylivinganddoingweredisguisedbytheaccidentofloverandloved-onenotbeingonvisitingterms;andtherewashardlyawakenedathoughtinBoldwoodthatsorryhouseholdrealitiesappertainedtoher,orthatshe,likeallothers,hadmomentsofcommonplace,whentobeleastplainlyseenwastobemostprettilyremembered。Thusamildsortofapotheosistookplaceinhisfancy,whilstshestilllivedandbreathedwithinhisownhorizon,atroubledcreaturelikehimself。
ItwastheendofMaywhenthefarmerdeterminedtobenolongerrepulsedbytrivialitiesordistractedbysuspense。Hehadbythistimegrownusedtobeinginlove;thepassionnowstartledhimlessevenwhenittorturedhimmore,andhefelthimselfadequatetothesituation。Oninquiringforheratherhousetheyhadtoldhimshewasatthesheep-washing,andhewentofftoseekherthere。
Thesheep-washingpoolwasaperfectlycircularbasinofbrickworkinthemeadows,fulloftheclearestwater。Tobirdsonthewingitsglassysurface,reflectingthelightsly,musthavebeenvisibleformilesaroundasaglisteningCyclops’eyeinagreenface。Thegrassaboutthemarginatthisseasonwasasighttorememberlong-inaminorsortofway。Itsactivityinsuckingthemoisturefromtherichdampsodwasalmostaprocessobservablebytheeye。Theoutskirtsofthislevelwater-meadowwerediversifiedbyroundedandhollowpastures,wherejustnoweveryflowerthatwasnotabuttercupwasadaisy。Theriverslidalongnoiselesslyasashade,theswellingreedsandsedgeformingaflexiblepalisadeuponitsmoistbrink。
Tothenorthofthemeadweretrees,theleavesofwhichwerenew,soft,andmoist,notyethavingstiffenedanddarkenedundersummersunanddrought,theircolourbeingyellowbesideagreen-greenbesideayellow。Fromtherecessesofthisknotoffoliagetheloudnotesofthreecuckooswereresoundingthroughthestillair。
Boldwoodwentmeditatingdowntheslopeswithhiseyesonhisboots,whichtheyellowpollenfromthebuttercupshadbronzedinartisticgradations。
Atributaryofthemainstreamflowedthroughthebasinofthepoolbyaninletandoutletatoppositepointsofitsdiameter。ShepherdOak,JanCoggan,Moon,Poorgrass,CainBall,andseveralotherswereassembledhere,alldrippingwettotheveryrootsoftheirhair,andBathshebawasstandingbyInanewriding-habit-themostelegantshehadeverworn-thereinsofherhorsebeingloopedoverherarm。Flagonsofciderwererollingaboutupontheden。ThemeeksheepwerepushedintothepoolbyCogganandMatthewMoon,whostoodbythelowerhatch,immersedtotheirwaists;thenGabriel,whostoodonthebrink,thrustthemunderastheyswamalong,withaninstrumentlikeacrutch,formedforthepurpose,andalsoforassistingtheexhaustedanimalswhenthewoolbecamesaturatedandtheybegantosink。Theywereletoutagainstthestream,andthroughtheupperopening,allimpuritiesflowingawaybelow。CainyBallandJoseph,whoperformedthislatteroperation,wereifpossiblewetterthantherest;theyresembleddolphinsunderafountain,everyprotuberanceandangleoftheirclothesdribblingforthasmallrill。
Boldwoodcamecloseandbadehergoodmorningwithsuchconstraintthatshecouldnotbutthinkhehadsteppedacrosstothewashingforitsownsake,hopingnottofindherthere;more,shefanciedhisbrowsevereandhiseyeslighting。Bathshebaimmediatelycontrivedtowithdraw,andglidedalongbytherivertillshewasastone’sthrowoffSheheardfootstepsbrushingthegrass,andhadaconsciousnessthatlovewasencirclingherlikeaperfume。Insteadofturningorwaiting,Bathshebawentfurtheramongthehighsedges,butBoldwoodseemeddetermined,andpressedontilltheywerecompletelypastthebendoftheriver。Here,withoutbeingseen,theycouldhearthesplashingandshoutsofthewashersabove。
`MissEverdene!’saidthefarmer。
Shetrembled,turned,andsaid`Goodmorning。’Histonewassoutterlyremovedfromallshehadexpectedasabeginning。Itwaslownessandquietaccentuated;anemphasisofdeepmeanings,theirform,atthesametime,beingscarcelyexpressed。Silencehassometimesaremarkablepowerofshowingitselfasthedisembodiedsouloffeelingwanderingwithoutitscarcase,anditisthenmoreimpressivethanspeech。Inthesameway,tosayalittleisoftentotellmorethantosayagreatdeal。Boldwoodtoldeverythinginthatword。
Astheconsciousnessexpandsonlearningthatwhatwasfanciedtobetherumbleofwheelsisthereverberationofthunder,sodidBathsheba’satherintuitiveconviction。
`Ifeel-almosttoomuch-tothink,’hesaid,withasolemnsimplickty。
`Ihavecometospeaktoyouwithoutpreface。MylifeisnotmyownsinceIhavebeheldyouclearly,MissEverdene-Icometomakeyouanofferofmarriage。’
Bathshebatriedtopreserveanabsolutelyneutralcountenance,andallthemotionshemadewasthatofclosinglipswhichhadpreviouslybeenalittleparted。
`Iamnowforty-oneyearsold,’hewenton。`Imayhavebeencalledaconfirmedbachelor,andIwasaconfirmedbachelor。Ihadneveranyviewsofmyselfasahusbandinmyearlierdays,norhaveImadeanycalculationonthesubjectsinceIhavebeenolder。Butweallchange,andmychange,inthismatter,camewithseeingyou。Ihavefeltlately,moreandmore,thatmypresentwayoflivingisbadineveryrespect。Beyondallthings,Iwantyouasmywife。’
`Ifeel,MrBoldwood,thatthoughIrespectyoumuch,Idonotfeel-whatwouldjustifymeto-inacceptingyouroffer,’shestammered。
ThisgivingbackofdignityfordignityseemedtoopenthesluicesoffeelingthatBoldwoodhadasyetkeptclosed。
`Mylifeisaburdenwithoutyou,’heexclaimed,inalowvoice。`I
wantyou-IwantyoutoletmesayIloveyouagainandagain!’
Bathshebaanswerednothing,andthemareuponherarmseemedsoimpressedthatinsteadofcroppingtheherbageshelookedup。
`IthinkandhopeyoucareenoughformetolistentowhatIhavetotell!’
Bathsheba’smomentaryimpulseathearingthiswastoaskwhyhethoughtthat,tillsherememberedthat,farfrombeingaconceitedassumptiononBoldwood’spart,itwasbutthenaturalconclusionofseriousreflectionbasedondeceptivepremisesofherownoffering。
`IwishIcouldsaycourteousflatteriestoyou,’thefarmercontinuedinaneasiertone,`andputmytuggedfeelingintoagracefulshape:butIhaveneitherpowernorpatiencetolearnsuchthings。Iwantyouformywife-sowildlythatnootherfeelingcanabideinme;butIshouldnothavespokenouthadInotbeenledtohope。’
`Thevalentineagain!Othatvalentine!’shesaidtoherself,butnotawordtohim。
`Ifyoucanlovemesayso’MissEverdene。Ifnot-don’tsayno!’
`MrBoldwood,itispainfultohavetosayIamsurprised,sothatI
don’tknowhowtoansweryouwithproprietyandrespect-butamonlyjustabletospeakoutmyfeelingImeanmymeaning;thatIamafraidIcan’tmarryyou,muchasIrespectyou。Youaretoodignifiedformetosuityou,sir。’
`But,MissEverdene!’
`I-Ididn’t-IknowIoughtnevertohavedreamtofsendingthatvalentine-forgiveme,sir-itwasawantonthingwhichnowomanwithanyself-respectshouldhavedone。Ifyouwillonlypardonmythoughtlessness,Ipromiseneverto——’
`No,no,no。Don’tsaythoughtlessness!Makemethinkitwassomethingmore-thatitwasasortofpropheticinstinct-thebeginningofafeelingthatyouwouldlikeme。Youtorturemetosayitwasdoneinthoughtlessness-Ineverthoughtofitinthatlight,andIcan’tendureit。Ah!IwishIknewhowtowinyou!butthatIcan’tdo-IcanonlyaskifIhavealreadygotyou。IfIhavenot,anditisnottruethatyouhavecomeunwittinglytomeasIhavetoyou,Icansaynomore。’