STAVEONE.
MARLEY’SGHOST.
Marleywasdead:
tobeginwith.
Thereisnodoubtwhateveraboutthat.
Theregisterofhisburialwassignedbytheclergyman,theclerk,theundertaker,andthechiefmourner.
Scroogesignedit:
andScrooge’snamewasgoodupon’Change,foranythinghechosetoputhishandto.
OldMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Mind!
Idon’tmeantosaythatIknow,ofmyown
kennis
knowledge,whatthereisparticularlydeadaboutadoor-nail.Imighthavebeeninclined,myself,toregardacoffin-nailasthedeadestpieceofironmongeryinthe
handel
trade.Butthewisdomofourancestorsisinthesimile;
andmyunhallowedhandsshallnotdisturbit,ortheCountry’sdonefor.
Youwill
dus
thereforepermitmetorepeat,emphatically,thatMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.Scroogeknewhewasdead?
Ofcoursehedid.
Howcoulditbeotherwise?
ScroogeandhewerepartnersforIdon’tknowhowmanyyears.
Scroogewashissoleexecutor,hissoleadministrator,hissoleassign,hissoleresiduarylegatee,hissolefriend,andsolemourner.
AndevenScroogewasnotsodreadfullycutupbythesad
gebeurtenis
event,butthathewasanexcellentmanofbusinessontheverydayofthebegrafenis
funeral,andsolemniseditwithanundoubtedbargain.ThementionofMarley’s
begrafenis
funeralbringsmebacktothepointIstartedfrom.ThereisnodoubtthatMarleywasdead.
Thismustbedistinctlyunderstood,ornothingwonderfulcancomeofthestoryIamgoingtorelate.
Ifwewerenotperfectly
overtuigd
convincedthatHamlet’sFatherdiedbeforetheplaybegan,therewouldbenothingmoreremarkableinhistakingastrollatnight,inaneasterlywind,uponhisownramparts,thantherewouldbeinanyothermiddle-agedgentlemanrashlyturningoutafterdarkinabreezyspot—saySaint
SaintPaul’sChurchyardforinstance—literallytoastonishhisson’szwakke
weakmind.ScroogeneverpaintedoutOldMarley’sname.
Thereitstood,yearsafterwards,abovethewarehousedoor:
ScroogeandMarley.
The
bedrijf
firmwasknownasScroogeandMarley.SometimespeoplenewtothebusinesscalledScroogeScrooge,andsometimesMarley,butheansweredtobothnames.
Itwasallthesametohim.
Oh!
Buthewasatight-fistedhandatthegrindstone,Scrooge!
asqueezing,wrenching,grasping,scraping,clutching,covetous,oldsinner!
Hardand
scherp
sharpasflint,fromwhichnostaal
steelhadeverstruckoutgenerousfire;secret,andself-contained,andsolitaryasanoyster.
Thecoldwithinhimfrozehisoldfeatures,nippedhispointednose,shrivelledhischeek,stiffenedhisgait;
madehiseyesred,his
dunne
thinlipsblue;andspokeoutshrewdlyinhisgratingvoice.
Afrostyrimewasonhishead,andonhiseyebrows,andhiswirychin.
Hecarriedhisownlowtemperaturealwaysaboutwithhim;
heicedhisofficeinthedog-days;
anddidn’tthawitone
graad
degreeatChristmas.ExternalheatandcoldhadlittleinfluenceonScrooge.
Nowarmthcouldwarm,nowintryweather
koelen
chillhim.Nowindthatblewwasbittererthanhe,nofalling
sneeuw
snowwasmoreintentuponitsdoel
purpose,nopeltingrainlessopentoentreaty.Foul
weer
weatherdidn’tknowwheretohavehim.Theheaviestrain,and
sneeuw
snow,andhail,andsleet,couldboastofthevoordeel
advantageoverhiminonlyonerespect.Theyoften“camedown”handsomely,andScroogeneverdid.
Nobodyeverstoppedhiminthestreettosay,withgladsomelooks,“MydearScrooge,howareyou?
Whenwillyoucometoseeme?”
Nobeggarsimploredhimtobestowatrifle,nochildrenaskedhimwhatitwaso’clock,nomanorwomaneveronceinallhislifeinquiredthewaytosuchandsuchaplace,ofScrooge.
Eventheblindmen’sdogs
leken
appearedtoknowhim;andwhentheysawhimcomingon,wouldtugtheirownersintodoorwaysandupcourts;
andthenwouldwagtheirtailsasthoughtheysaid,“Noeyeatallisbetterthananevileye,darkmaster!”
ButwhatdidScroogecare!
Itwastheverythingheliked.
Toedgehiswayalongthecrowdedpathsoflife,
waarschuwen
warningallhumansympathytokeepitsdistance,waswhattheknowingonescall“nuts”toScrooge.Onceuponatime—ofallthegooddaysintheyear,onChristmasEve—oldScroogesatbusyinhiscounting-house.
Itwascold,bleak,
bijtend
bitingweather:foggywithal:
andhecouldhearthepeopleinthecourtoutside,gowheezingupanddown,beatingtheirhandsupontheirbreasts,andstampingtheirfeetuponthepavementstonestowarmthem.
Thecityclockshadonlyjustgonethree,butitwasquitedarkalready—ithadnotbeenlightallday—andcandleswereflaringinthewindowsoftheneighbouringoffices,likeruddysmearsuponthepalpable
bruine
brownair.Thefogcamepouringinateverychinkandkeyhole,andwassodensewithout,thatalthoughthecourtwasofthenarrowest,thehouses
tegenover
oppositeweremerephantoms.Toseethedingycloudcomedroopingdown,obscuringeverything,onemighthavethoughtthatNaturelivedhardby,andwasbrewingonalargescale.
ThedoorofScrooge’scounting-housewasopenthathemightkeephiseyeuponhisclerk,whoinadismallittlecell
daarbuiten
beyond,asortoftank,waskopiëren
copyingletters.Scroogehadaverysmallfire,buttheclerk’sfirewassoverymuchsmallerthatitlookedlikeonecoal.
Buthecouldn’treplenishit,forScroogekeptthecoal-boxinhisownroom;
andso
zeker
surelyastheclerkcameinwiththeshovel,themasterpredictedthatitwouldbenecessaryforthemtopart.Whereforetheclerkputonhiswhitecomforter,andtriedtowarmhimselfatthecandle;
inwhicheffort,notbeingamanofastrong
verbeelding
imagination,hefailed.“AmerryChristmas,uncle!
Godsaveyou!”
criedacheerfulvoice.
ItwasthevoiceofScrooge’s
neef
nephew,whocameuponhimsoquicklythatthiswasthefirstintimationhehadofhisapproach.“Bah!”
saidScrooge,“Humbug!”
Hehadso
verwarmd
heatedhimselfwithrapidwalkinginthefogandfrost,thisneef
nephewofScrooge’s,thathewasallinaglow;hisfacewasruddyandhandsome;
hiseyessparkled,andhis
adem
breathsmokedagain.“Christmasahumbug,uncle!”
saidScrooge’s
neef
nephew.“Youdon’tmeanthat,Iamsure?”
“Ido,”saidScrooge.
“MerryChristmas!
Whatrighthaveyoutobemerry?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemerry?
You’repoorenough.”
“Come,then,”returnedthe
neef
nephewgaily.“Whatrighthaveyoutobedismal?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemorose?
You’rerichenough.”
Scroogehavingnobetteranswerreadyonthespurofthemoment,said,“Bah!”
again;
andfolloweditupwith“Humbug.”
“Don’tbecross,uncle!”
saidthe
neef
nephew.“WhatelsecanIbe,”returnedtheuncle,“whenIliveinsuchaworldoffoolsasthis?
MerryChristmas!
OutuponmerryChristmas!
What’sChristmastimetoyoubutatimeforpayingbillswithoutmoney;
atimeforfindingyourselfayear
ouder
older,butnotanhourricher;atimeforbalancingyourbooksandhavingeveryitemin’emthrougharounddozenofmonthspresenteddeadagainstyou?
IfIcouldworkmywill,”saidScroogeindignantly,“everyidiotwhogoesaboutwith‘MerryChristmas’onhislips,shouldbeboiledwithhisownpudding,and
begraven
buriedwithastakeofhollythroughhisheart.Heshould!”
“Uncle!”
pleadedthe
neef
nephew.“Nephew!”
returnedtheunclesternly,“keepChristmasinyourownway,andletmekeepitinmine.”
“Keepit!”
herhaalde
repeatedScrooge’snephew.“Butyoudon’tkeepit.”
“Letmeleaveitalone,then,”saidScrooge.
“Muchgoodmayitdoyou!
Muchgoodithaseverdoneyou!”
“TherearemanythingsfromwhichImighthavederivedgood,bywhichIhavenotprofited,Idaresay,”returnedthe
neef
nephew.“Christmasamongtherest.
ButIamsureIhavealwaysthoughtofChristmastime,whenithascomeround—apartfromtheveneration
vanwege
duetoitssacrednameandorigin,ifanythingbehoort
belongingtoitcanbeapartfromthat—asagoodtime;akind,forgiving,charitable,pleasanttime;
theonlytimeIknowof,inthelongcalendaroftheyear,whenmenandwomenseembyoneconsenttoopentheirshut-upheartsfreely,andtothinkofpeople
onder
belowthemasiftheyreallywerefellow-passengerstothegraf
grave,andnotanotherraceofcreaturesgebonden
boundonotherjourneys.And
daarom
therefore,uncle,thoughithasneverputascrapofgoldorzilver
silverinmypocket,Ibelievethatithasdonemegood,andwilldomegood;andIsay,Godblessit!”
Theclerkinthe
Tank
Tankinvoluntarilyapplauded.Becomingimmediatelysensibleoftheimpropriety,hepokedthefire,andextinguishedthelastfrailsparkforever.
“Letmehearanothersoundfromyou,”saidScrooge,“andyou’llkeepyourChristmasbylosingyoursituation!
You’requitea
krachtige
powerfulspeaker,sir,”headded,turningtohisneef
nephew.“Iwonderyoudon’tgointoParliament.”
“Don’tbeangry,uncle.
Come!
Dinewithusto-morrow.”
Scroogesaidthathewouldseehim—yes,indeedhedid.
Hewentthewholelengthoftheexpression,andsaidthathewouldseehiminthatextremityfirst.
“Butwhy?”
criedScrooge’s
neef
nephew.“Why?”
“Whydidyougetmarried?”
saidScrooge.
“BecauseIfellinlove.”
“Becauseyoufellinlove!”
growledScrooge,asifthatweretheonlyonethingintheworldmoreridiculousthanamerryChristmas.
“Goodafternoon!”
“Nay,uncle,butyounevercametoseemebeforethathappened.
Whygiveitasareasonfornotcomingnow?”
“Goodafternoon,”saidScrooge.
“Iwantnothingfromyou;
Iasknothingofyou;
whycannotwebefriends?”
“Goodafternoon,”saidScrooge.
“Iamsorry,withallmyheart,tofindyousoresolute.
Wehaveneverhadanyquarrel,towhichIhavebeenaparty.
ButIhavemadethe
proces
trialinhomagetoChristmas,andI’llkeepmyChristmashumourtothelast.SoAMerryChristmas,uncle!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
“AndAHappyNewYear!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
His
neef
nephewlefttheroomwithoutanangryword,notwithstanding.Hestoppedattheouterdoortobestowthegreetingsofthe
seizoen
seasonontheclerk,who,coldashewas,waswarmerthanScrooge;forhereturnedthemcordially.
“There’sanotherfellow,”mutteredScrooge;
whooverheardhim:
“myclerk,withfifteenshillingsaweek,andawifeandfamily,talkingaboutamerryChristmas.
I’llretiretoBedlam.”
Thislunatic,inlettingScrooge’s
neef
nephewout,hadlettwootherpeoplein.Theywereportlygentlemen,pleasanttobehold,andnowstood,withtheirhatsoff,inScrooge’soffice.Theyhadbooksandpapersintheirhands,andbowedtohim.
“ScroogeandMarley’s,Ibelieve,”saidoneofthegentlemen,referringtohislist.
“HaveIthepleasureofaddressingMr.Scrooge,orMr.Marley?”
“Mr.
Marleyhasbeendeadthesesevenyears,”Scroogereplied.
“Hediedsevenyearsago,thisverynight.”
“Wehavenodoubthisliberalityiswellrepresentedbyhissurvivingpartner,”saidthegentleman,presentinghiscredentials.
Itcertainlywas;
fortheyhadbeentwokindredspirits.
Attheominousword“liberality,”Scroogefrowned,andshookhishead,andhandedthecredentialsback.
“Atthisfestive
seizoen
seasonoftheyear,Mr.Scrooge,”saidthegentleman,takingupapen
pen,“itismorethanusuallydesirablethatweshouldmakesomeslightprovisionforthePooranddestitute,wholijden
suffergreatlyatthepresenttime.Manythousandsareinwantofcommonnecessaries;
hundredsofthousandsareinwantof
gemeenschappelijk
commoncomforts,sir.”“Aretherenoprisons?”
askedScrooge.
“Plentyofprisons,”saidthegentleman,layingdownthe
pen
penagain.“AndtheUnionworkhouses?”
vroeg
demandedScrooge.“Aretheystillinoperation?”
“Theyare.
Still,”returnedthegentleman,“IwishIcouldsaytheywerenot.”
“TheTreadmillandthePoorLawareinfullvigour,then?”
saidScrooge.
“Bothverybusy,sir.”
“Oh!
Iwasafraid,fromwhatyousaidatfirst,thatsomethinghadoccurredtostopthemintheirusefulcourse,”saidScrooge.
“I’mverygladtohearit.”
“UndertheimpressionthattheyscarcelyfurnishChristiancheerofmindorbodytothemultitude,”returnedthegentleman,“afewofusareendeavouringtoraiseafundtobuythePoorsomemeatanddrink,andmeansofwarmth.
Wechoosethistime,becauseitisatime,ofallothers,whenWantiskeenlyfelt,andAbundancerejoices.
WhatshallIputyoudownfor?”
“Nothing!”
Scroogereplied.
“Youwishtobeanonymous?”
“Iwishtobeleftalone,”saidScrooge.
“SinceyouaskmewhatIwish,gentlemen,thatismyanswer.