STAVEONE.
MARLEY’SGHOST.
Marleywasdead:
tobeginwith.
Thereisnodoubtwhateveraboutthat.
Theregisterofhisburialwassignedbytheclergyman,theclerk,theundertaker,andthechiefmourner.
Scroogesignedit:
andScrooge’snamewasgoodupon’Change,foranythinghechosetoputhishandto.
OldMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Mind!
Idon’tmeantosaythatIknow,ofmyownknowledge,whatthereisparticularlydeadaboutadoor-nail.
Imighthavebeeninclined,myself,toregardacoffin-nailasthedeadestpieceofironmongeryinthe
handel
trade.Butthewisdomofourancestorsisinthesimile;
andmyunhallowedhandsshallnotdisturbit,ortheCountry’sdonefor.
Youwill
daher
thereforepermitmetorepeat,emphatically,thatMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.Scroogeknewhewasdead?
Ofcoursehedid.
Howcoulditbeotherwise?
ScroogeandhewerepartnersforIdon’tknowhowmanyyears.
Scroogewashissoleexecutor,hissoleadministrator,hissoleassign,hissoleresiduarylegatee,hissolefriend,andsolemourner.
AndevenScroogewasnotsodreadfullycutupbythesad
ereignis
event,butthathewasanexcellentmanofbusinessontheverydayofthebeerdigung
funeral,andsolemniseditwithanundoubtedbargain.ThementionofMarley’s
beerdigung
funeralbringsmebacktothepointIstartedfrom.ThereisnodoubtthatMarleywasdead.
Thismustbedistinctlyunderstood,ornothingwonderfulcancomeofthestoryIamgoingtorelate.
Ifwewerenotperfectly
überzeugt
convincedthatHamlet’sFatherdiedbeforetheplaybegan,therewouldbenothingmoreremarkableinhistakingastrollatnight,inaneasterlywind,uponhisownramparts,thantherewouldbeinanyothermiddle-agedgentlemanrashlyturningoutafterdarkinabreezyspot—saySaintPaul’sChurchyardforinstance—literallytoastonishhisson’sweakmind.ScroogeneverpaintedoutOldMarley’sname.
Thereitstood,yearsafterwards,abovethewarehousedoor:
ScroogeandMarley.
The
firma
firmwasknownasScroogeandMarley.SometimespeoplenewtothebusinesscalledScroogeScrooge,andsometimesMarley,butheansweredtobothnames.
Itwasallthesametohim.
Oh!
Buthewasatight-fistedhandatthegrindstone,Scrooge!
asqueezing,wrenching,grasping,scraping,clutching,covetous,oldsinner!
Hardand
scharf
sharpasflint,fromwhichnostahl
steelhadeverstruckoutgenerousfire;secret,andself-contained,andsolitaryasanoyster.
Thecoldwithinhimfrozehisoldfeatures,nippedhispointednose,shrivelledhischeek,stiffenedhisgait;
madehiseyesred,histhinlipsblue;
andspokeoutshrewdlyinhisgratingvoice.
Afrostyrimewasonhishead,andonhiseyebrows,andhiswirychin.
Hecarriedhisownlowtemperaturealwaysaboutwithhim;
heicedhisofficeinthedog-days;
anddidn’tthawitone
grad
degreeatChristmas.ExternalheatandcoldhadlittleinfluenceonScrooge.
Nowarmthcouldwarm,nowintry
wetter
weatherchillhim.Nowindthatblewwasbittererthanhe,nofalling
schnee
snowwasmoreintentuponitszweck
purpose,nopeltingrainlessopentoentreaty.Foul
wetter
weatherdidn’tknowwheretohavehim.Theheaviestrain,and
schnee
snow,andhail,andsleet,couldboastoftheadvantageoverhiminonlyonerespect.Theyoften“camedown”handsomely,andScroogeneverdid.
Nobodyeverstoppedhiminthestreettosay,withgladsomelooks,“MydearScrooge,howareyou?
Whenwillyoucometoseeme?”
Nobeggarsimploredhimtobestowatrifle,nochildrenaskedhimwhatitwaso’clock,nomanorwomaneveronceinallhislifeinquiredthewaytosuchandsuchaplace,ofScrooge.
Eventheblindmen’sdogsappearedtoknowhim;
andwhentheysawhimcomingon,wouldtugtheirownersintodoorwaysandupcourts;
andthenwouldwagtheirtailsasthoughtheysaid,“Noeyeatallisbetterthananevileye,darkmaster!”
ButwhatdidScroogecare!
Itwastheverythingheliked.
Toedgehiswayalongthecrowdedpathsoflife,warningallhumansympathytokeepitsdistance,waswhattheknowingonescall“nuts”toScrooge.
Onceuponatime—ofallthegooddaysintheyear,onChristmasEve—oldScroogesatbusyinhiscounting-house.
Itwascold,bleak,
beißend
bitingweather:foggywithal:
andhecouldhearthepeopleinthecourtoutside,gowheezingupanddown,beatingtheirhandsupontheirbreasts,andstampingtheirfeetuponthepavementstonestowarmthem.
Thecityclockshadonlyjustgonethree,butitwasquitedarkalready—ithadnotbeenlightallday—andcandleswereflaringinthewindowsoftheneighbouringoffices,likeruddysmearsuponthepalpablebrownair.
Thefogcamepouringinateverychinkandkeyhole,andwassodensewithout,that
obwohl
althoughthecourtwasofthenarrowest,thehousesgegenüber
oppositeweremerephantoms.Toseethedingycloudcomedroopingdown,obscuringeverything,onemighthavethoughtthatNaturelivedhardby,andwasbrewingonalargescale.
ThedoorofScrooge’scounting-housewasopenthathemightkeephiseyeuponhisclerk,whoinadismallittlecellbeyond,asortof
tank
tank,wascopyingletters.Scroogehadaverysmallfire,buttheclerk’sfirewassoverymuchsmallerthatitlookedlikeonecoal.
Buthecouldn’treplenishit,forScroogekeptthecoal-boxinhisownroom;
andsosurelyastheclerkcameinwiththeshovel,themasterpredictedthatitwouldbenecessaryforthemtopart.
Whereforetheclerkputonhiswhitecomforter,andtriedtowarmhimselfatthecandle;
inwhicheffort,notbeingamanofastrong
fantasie
imagination,hefailed.“AmerryChristmas,uncle!
Godsaveyou!”
criedacheerfulvoice.
ItwasthevoiceofScrooge’snephew,whocameuponhimsoquicklythatthiswasthefirstintimationhehadofhisapproach.
“Bah!”
saidScrooge,“Humbug!”
Hehadsoheatedhimselfwithrapidwalkinginthefogandfrost,this
neffe
nephewofScrooge’s,thathewasallinaglow;hisfacewasruddyand
hübsch
handsome;hiseyessparkled,andhis
atem
breathsmokedagain.“Christmasahumbug,uncle!”
saidScrooge’s
neffe
nephew.“Youdon’tmeanthat,Iamsure?”
“Ido,”saidScrooge.
“MerryChristmas!
Whatrighthaveyoutobe
fröhlich
merry?Whatreasonhaveyoutobe
fröhlich
merry?You’repoorenough.”
“Come,then,”returnedthe
neffe
nephewgaily.“Whatrighthaveyoutobedismal?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemorose?
You’rerichenough.”
Scroogehavingnobetteranswerreadyonthespurofthemoment,said,“Bah!”
again;
andfolloweditupwith“Humbug.”
“Don’tbecross,uncle!”
saidthe
neffe
nephew.“WhatelsecanIbe,”returnedtheuncle,“whenIliveinsuchaworldoffoolsasthis?
MerryChristmas!
OutuponmerryChristmas!
What’sChristmastimetoyoubutatimeforpayingbillswithoutmoney;
atimeforfindingyourselfayear
älter
older,butnotanhourricher;atimeforbalancingyourbooksandhavingeveryitemin’emthrougharounddozenofmonthspresenteddeadagainstyou?
IfIcouldworkmywill,”saidScroogeindignantly,“everyidiotwhogoesaboutwith‘MerryChristmas’onhislips,shouldbeboiledwithhisownpudding,and
begraben
buriedwithastakeofhollythroughhisheart.Heshould!”
“Uncle!”
pleadedthenephew.
“Nephew!”
returnedtheunclesternly,“keepChristmasinyourownway,andletmekeepitinmine.”
“Keepit!”
wiederholte
repeatedScrooge’snephew.“Butyoudon’tkeepit.”
“Letmeleaveitalone,then,”saidScrooge.
“Muchgoodmayitdoyou!
Muchgoodithaseverdoneyou!”
“TherearemanythingsfromwhichImighthavederivedgood,bywhichIhavenotprofited,Idaresay,”returnedthe
neffe
nephew.“Christmasamongtherest.
ButIamsureIhavealwaysthoughtofChristmastime,whenithascomeround—apartfromthevenerationduetoitssacrednameandorigin,ifanything
gehört
belongingtoitcanbeapartfromthat—asagoodtime;akind,forgiving,charitable,pleasanttime;
theonlytimeIknowof,inthelongcalendaroftheyear,whenmenandwomenseembyoneconsenttoopentheirshut-upheartsfreely,andtothinkofpeople
unter
belowthemasiftheyreallywerefellow-passengerstothegrab
grave,andnotanotherraceofcreaturesgebunden
boundonotherjourneys.And
deshalb
therefore,uncle,thoughithasneverputascrapofgoldorsilber
silverinmypocket,Ibelievethatithasdonemegood,andwilldomegood;andIsay,Godblessit!”
Theclerkinthe
Tank
Tankinvoluntarilyapplauded.Becomingimmediatelysensibleoftheimpropriety,hepokedthefire,andextinguishedthelastfrailsparkforever.
“Letmehearanothersoundfromyou,”saidScrooge,“andyou’llkeepyourChristmasbylosingyoursituation!
You’requiteapowerfulspeaker,sir,”headded,turningtohisnephew.
“Iwonderyoudon’tgointoParliament.”
“Don’tbeangry,uncle.
Come!
Dinewithusto-morrow.”
Scroogesaidthathewouldseehim—yes,
tat
indeedhedid.Hewentthewholelengthoftheexpression,andsaidthathewouldseehiminthatextremityfirst.
“Butwhy?”
criedScrooge’s
neffe
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
prozess
trialinhomagetoChristmas,andI’llkeepmyChristmashumourtothelast.SoAMerryChristmas,uncle!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
“AndAHappyNewYear!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
His
neffe
nephewlefttheroomwithoutanangryword,notwithstanding.Hestoppedattheouterdoortobestowthegreetingsoftheseasonontheclerk,who,coldashewas,waswarmerthanScrooge;
forhereturnedthemcordially.
“There’sanotherfellow,”mutteredScrooge;
whooverheardhim:
“myclerk,withfifteenshillingsaweek,andawifeandfamily,talkingaboutamerryChristmas.
I’llretiretoBedlam.”
Thislunatic,inlettingScrooge’snephewout,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.
“Atthisfestiveseasonoftheyear,Mr.Scrooge,”saidthegentleman,takingupapen,“itismorethanusuallydesirablethatweshouldmakesomeslightprovisionforthePooranddestitute,who
leiden
suffergreatlyatthepresenttime.Manythousandsareinwantofcommonnecessaries;
hundredsofthousandsareinwantofcommoncomforts,sir.”
“Aretherenoprisons?”
askedScrooge.
“Plentyofprisons,”saidthegentleman,layingdownthepenagain.
“AndtheUnionworkhouses?”
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.