STAVEONE.
MARLEY’SGHOST.
Marleywasdead:
tobeginwith.
Thereisnodoubtwhateveraboutthat.
The
registro
registerofhisburialwassignedbytheclergyman,theclerk,theundertaker,andthechiefmourner.Scroogesignedit:
andScrooge’snamewasgoodupon’Change,foranythinghechosetoputhishandto.
OldMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Mind!
Idon’tmeantosaythatIknow,ofmyownknowledge,whatthereis
particolarmente
particularlydeadaboutadoor-nail.Imighthavebeeninclined,myself,to
considerare
regardacoffin-nailasthedeadestpieceofironmongeryinthetrade.Butthe
saggezza
wisdomofourancestorsisinthesimile;andmyunhallowedhandsshallnot
disturberanno
disturbit,ortheCountry’sdonefor.Youwilltherefore
permetterete
permitmetorepeat,emphatically,thatMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.Scroogeknewhewasdead?
Ofcoursehedid.
Howcoulditbeotherwise?
ScroogeandhewerepartnersforIdon’tknowhowmanyyears.
Scroogewashissoleexecutor,hissole
amministratore
administrator,hissoleassign,hissoleresiduarylegatee,hissolefriend,andsolemourner.AndevenScroogewasnotsodreadfullycutupbythesadevent,butthathewasanexcellentmanofbusinessontheverydayofthefuneral,andsolemniseditwithanundoubted
affare
bargain.ThementionofMarley’sfuneralbringsmebacktothepointIstartedfrom.
ThereisnodoubtthatMarleywasdead.
Thismustbedistinctlyunderstood,ornothingwonderfulcancomeofthestoryIamgoingto
raccontare
relate.IfwewerenotperfectlyconvincedthatHamlet’sFatherdiedbeforetheplaybegan,therewouldbenothingmore
notevole
remarkableinhistakingapasseggio
strollatnight,inaneasterlywind,uponhisownramparts,thantherewouldbeinanyothermiddle-agedgentlemanrashlyturningoutafterdarkinabreezyspot—saySaintPaul’sChurchyardforinstance—literallytoastonishhisson’sweakmind.ScroogeneverpaintedoutOldMarley’sname.
Thereitstood,yearsafterwards,abovethe
magazzino
warehousedoor:ScroogeandMarley.
ThefirmwasknownasScroogeandMarley.
SometimespeoplenewtothebusinesscalledScroogeScrooge,andsometimesMarley,butheansweredtobothnames.
Itwasallthesametohim.
Oh!
Buthewasatight-fistedhandatthegrindstone,Scrooge!
asqueezing,
strappante
wrenching,grasping,scraping,clutching,covetous,oldpeccatore
sinner!Hardandsharpasflint,fromwhichnosteelhadeverstruckout
generoso
generousfire;secret,andself-contained,andsolitaryasanoyster.
Thecoldwithinhimfrozehisoldfeatures,nippedhispointednose,shrivelledhis
guancia
cheek,stiffenedhisgait;madehiseyesred,histhinlipsblue;
andspokeoutshrewdlyinhisgratingvoice.
Afrostyrimewasonhishead,andonhiseyebrows,andhiswiry
mento
chin.Hecarriedhisownlow
temperatura
temperaturealwaysaboutwithhim;heicedhisofficeinthedog-days;
anddidn’tthawitonedegreeatChristmas.
Externalheatandcoldhadlittle
influenza
influenceonScrooge.Nowarmthcouldwarm,nowintryweatherchillhim.
Nowindthatblewwasbittererthanhe,nofallingsnowwasmoreintentuponitspurpose,nopeltingrainlessopentoentreaty.
Foulweatherdidn’tknowwheretohavehim.
Theheaviestrain,andsnow,andhail,andsleet,could
vantare
boastoftheadvantageoverhiminonlyonerespect.Theyoften“camedown”handsomely,andScroogeneverdid.
Nobodyeverstoppedhiminthestreettosay,withgladsomelooks,“MydearScrooge,howareyou?
Whenwillyoucometoseeme?”
Nobeggars
implorò
imploredhimtobestowatrifle,nochildrenaskedhimwhatitwaso’clock,nomanorwomaneveronceinallhislifechiese
inquiredthewaytosuchandsuchaplace,ofScrooge.Eventheblindmen’sdogsappearedtoknowhim;
andwhentheysawhimcomingon,wouldtugtheirownersintodoorwaysandupcourts;
andthenwouldwagtheirtailsasthoughtheysaid,“Noeyeatallisbetterthananevileye,darkmaster!”
ButwhatdidScroogecare!
Itwastheverythingheliked.
Toedgehiswayalongthecrowdedpathsoflife,warningallhuman
simpatia
sympathytokeepitsdistance,waswhattheknowingonescall“nuts”toScrooge.Onceuponatime—ofallthegooddaysintheyear,onChristmasEve—oldScroogesatbusyinhiscounting-house.
Itwascold,bleak,bitingweather:
foggywithal:
andhecouldhearthepeopleinthecourtoutside,gowheezingupanddown,beatingtheirhandsupontheirbreasts,andstampingtheirfeetuponthe
marciapiede
pavementstonestowarmthem.Thecityclockshadonlyjustgonethree,butitwasquitedarkalready—ithadnotbeenlightallday—andcandleswereflaringinthewindowsoftheneighbouringoffices,likeruddysmearsuponthepalpablebrownair.
The
nebbia
fogcamepouringinateverychinkandkeyhole,andwassodensewithout,thatalthoughthecourtwasofthenarrowest,thehousesoppositeweremerephantoms.Toseethedingy
nuvola
cloudcomedroopingdown,obscuringeverything,onemighthavethoughtthatNaturelivedhardby,andwasbrewingonalargescala
scale.ThedoorofScrooge’scounting-housewasopenthathemightkeephiseyeuponhis
impiegato
clerk,whoinadismallittlecellbeyond,asortoftank,wascopyingletters.Scroogehadaverysmallfire,buttheclerk’sfirewassoverymuchsmallerthatitlookedlikeone
carbone
coal.Buthecouldn’treplenishit,forScroogekeptthecoal-boxinhisownroom;
andsosurelyastheclerkcameinwiththe
pala
shovel,themasterpredictedthatitwouldbenecessaryforthemtopart.Whereforetheclerkputonhiswhitecomforter,andtriedtowarmhimselfatthe
candela
candle;inwhicheffort,notbeingamanofastrongimagination,hefailed.
“AmerryChristmas,uncle!
Godsaveyou!”
criedacheerfulvoice.
ItwasthevoiceofScrooge’snephew,whocameuponhimsoquicklythatthiswasthefirstintimationhehadofhisapproach.
“Bah!”
saidScrooge,“Humbug!”
Hehadsoheatedhimselfwithrapidwalkinginthe
nebbia
fogandfrost,thisnephewofScrooge’s,thathewasallinaglow;hisfacewasruddyandhandsome;
hiseyes
scintillavano
sparkled,andhisbreathsmokedagain.“Christmasahumbug,uncle!”
saidScrooge’snephew.
“Youdon’tmeanthat,Iamsure?”
“Ido,”saidScrooge.
“MerryChristmas!
Whatrighthaveyoutobemerry?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemerry?
You’repoorenough.”
“Come,then,”returnedthenephewgaily.
“Whatrighthaveyoutobedismal?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemorose?
You’rerichenough.”
Scroogehavingnobetteranswerreadyonthespurofthemoment,said,“Bah!”
again;
andfolloweditupwith“Humbug.”
“Don’tbecross,uncle!”
saidthenephew.
“WhatelsecanIbe,”returnedtheuncle,“whenIliveinsuchaworldoffoolsasthis?
MerryChristmas!
OutuponmerryChristmas!
What’sChristmastimetoyoubutatimeforpayingbillswithoutmoney;
atimeforfindingyourselfayearolder,butnotanhour
ricco
richer;atimeforbalancingyourbooksandhavingevery
elemento
itemin’emthrougharounddozzina
dozenofmonthspresenteddeadagainstyou?IfIcouldworkmywill,”saidScroogeindignantly,“everyidiotwhogoesaboutwith‘MerryChristmas’onhislips,shouldbe
bollito
boiledwithhisownpudding,andburiedwithapalo
stakeofhollythroughhisheart.Heshould!”
“Uncle!”
pleadedthenephew.
“Nephew!”
returnedtheunclesternly,“keepChristmasinyourownway,andletmekeepitinmine.”
“Keepit!”
repeatedScrooge’snephew.
“Butyoudon’tkeepit.”
“Letmeleaveitalone,then,”saidScrooge.
“Muchgoodmayitdoyou!
Muchgoodithaseverdoneyou!”
“TherearemanythingsfromwhichImighthavederivedgood,bywhichIhavenotprofited,Idaresay,”returnedthenephew.
“Christmasamongtherest.
ButIamsureIhavealwaysthoughtofChristmastime,whenithascomeround—apartfromthevenerationduetoits
sacro
sacrednameandorigin,ifanythingbelongingtoitcanbeapartfromthat—asagoodtime;akind,forgiving,
caritatevole
charitable,pleasanttime;theonlytimeIknowof,inthelong
calendario
calendaroftheyear,whenmenandwomenseembyoneconsenso
consenttoopentheirshut-upheartsliberamente
freely,andtothinkofpeoplebelowthemasiftheyreallywerefellow-passengerstothegrave,andnotanotherraceofcreaturesboundonotherjourneys.Andtherefore,uncle,thoughithasneverputascrapofgoldorsilverinmypocket,Ibelievethatithasdonemegood,andwilldomegood;
andIsay,Godblessit!”
TheclerkintheTankinvoluntarily
applaudito
applauded.Becomingimmediatelysensibleoftheimpropriety,hepokedthefire,and
spento
extinguishedthelastfrailsparkforever.“Letmehearanothersoundfromyou,”saidScrooge,“andyou’llkeepyourChristmasbylosingyoursituation!
You’requiteapowerfulspeaker,sir,”headded,turningtohisnephew.
“Iwonderyoudon’tgointoParliament.”
“Don’tbeangry,uncle.
Come!
Dinewithusto-morrow.”
Scroogesaidthathewouldseehim—yes,indeedhedid.
Hewentthewhole
lunghezza
lengthoftheexpression,andsaidthathewouldseehiminthatextremityfirst.“Butwhy?”
criedScrooge’snephew.
“Why?”
“Whydidyougetmarried?”
saidScrooge.
“BecauseIfellinlove.”
“Becauseyoufellinlove!”
growledScrooge,asifthatweretheonlyonethingintheworldmoreridiculousthanamerryChristmas.
“Goodafternoon!”
“Nay,uncle,butyounevercametoseemebeforethathappened.
Whygiveitasareasonfornotcomingnow?”
“Goodafternoon,”saidScrooge.
“Iwantnothingfromyou;
Iasknothingofyou;
whycannotwebefriends?”
“Goodafternoon,”saidScrooge.
“Iamsorry,withallmyheart,tofindyousoresolute.
Wehaveneverhadany
litigio
quarrel,towhichIhavebeenaparty.ButIhavemadethetrialin
omaggio
homagetoChristmas,andI’llkeepmyChristmashumourtothelast.SoAMerryChristmas,uncle!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
“AndAHappyNewYear!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
Hisnephewlefttheroomwithoutanangryword,notwithstanding.
Hestoppedattheouterdoortobestowthe
saluti
greetingsoftheseasonontheclerk,who,coldashewas,wascaldo
warmerthanScrooge;forhereturnedthemcordially.
“There’sanotherfellow,”mutteredScrooge;
whooverheardhim:
“my
impiegato
clerk,withfifteenshillingsaweek,andawifeandfamily,talkingaboutamerryChristmas.I’ll
ritirerò
retiretoBedlam.”Thislunatic,inlettingScrooge’snephewout,hadlettwootherpeoplein.Theywereportlygentlemen,pleasanttobehold,andnowstood,withtheirhatsoff,inScrooge’soffice.
Theyhadbooksandpapersintheirhands,andbowedtohim.
“ScroogeandMarley’s,Ibelieve,”saidoneofthegentlemen,
riferendosi
referringtohislist.“HaveIthepleasureofaddressingMr.Scrooge,orMr.Marley?”
“Mr.
Marleyhasbeendeadthesesevenyears,”Scroogereplied.
“Hediedsevenyearsago,thisverynight.”
“Wehavenodoubthisliberalityiswellrepresentedbyhissurvivingpartner,”saidthegentleman,presentinghiscredentials.
Itcertainlywas;
fortheyhadbeentwokindredspirits.
Attheominousword“liberality,”Scroogefrowned,andshookhishead,andhandedthecredentialsback.
“Atthis
festivo
festiveseasonoftheyear,Mr.Scrooge,”saidthegentleman,takingupapen,“itismorethanusuallydesiderabile
desirablethatweshouldmakesomeslightprovisionforthePooranddestitute,whosuffergreatlyatthepresenttime.Manythousandsareinwantofcommonnecessaries;
hundredsofthousandsareinwantofcommoncomforts,sir.”
“Aretherenoprisons?”
askedScrooge.
“Plentyofprisons,”saidthegentleman,layingdownthepenagain.
“AndtheUnionworkhouses?”
chiesto
demandedScrooge.“Aretheystillinoperation?”
“Theyare.
Still,”returnedthegentleman,“IwishIcouldsaytheywerenot.”
“TheTreadmillandthePoorLawareinfullvigour,then?”
saidScrooge.
“Bothverybusy,sir.”
“Oh!
Iwasafraid,fromwhatyousaidatfirst,thatsomethinghad
accaduto
occurredtostopthemintheirusefulcourse,”saidScrooge.“I’mverygladtohearit.”
“UndertheimpressionthattheyscarcelyfurnishChristiancheerofmindorbodytothemultitude,”returnedthegentleman,“afewofusareendeavouringtoraisea
fondo
fundtobuythePoorsomemeatanddrink,andmeansofwarmth.Wechoosethistime,becauseitisatime,ofallothers,whenWantiskeenlyfelt,andAbundance
rallegra
rejoices.WhatshallIputyoudownfor?”
“Nothing!”
Scroogereplied.
“Youwishtobeanonymous?”
“Iwishtobeleftalone,”saidScrooge.
“SinceyouaskmewhatIwish,gentlemen,thatismyanswer.