STAVEONE.
MARLEY’SGHOST.
Marleywasdead:
tobeginwith.
Thereisnodoubtwhateveraboutthat.
The
registro
registerofhisburialwassignedbytheclergyman,theclerk,theundertaker,andthechiefmourner.Scroogesignedit:
andScrooge’snamewasgoodupon’Change,foranythinghechosetoputhishandto.
OldMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Mind!
Idon’tmeantosaythatIknow,ofmyownknowledge,whatthereis
particularmente
particularlydeadaboutadoor-nail.Imighthavebeeninclined,myself,to
considerar
regardacoffin-nailasthedeadestpieceofironmongeryinthetrade.Butthe
sabedoria
wisdomofourancestorsisinthesimile;andmyunhallowedhandsshallnot
perturbarão
disturbit,ortheCountry’sdonefor.Youwilltherefore
permitam
permitmetorepeat,emphatically,thatMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.Scroogeknewhewasdead?
Ofcoursehedid.
Howcoulditbeotherwise?
ScroogeandhewerepartnersforIdon’tknowhowmanyyears.
Scroogewashis
único
soleexecutor,hissoleadministrator,hisúnico
soleassign,hissoleresiduarylegatee,hisúnico
solefriend,andsolemourner.AndevenScroogewasnotsodreadfullycutupbythesadevent,butthathewasanexcellentmanofbusinessontheverydayofthefuneral,andsolemniseditwithanundoubtedbargain.
ThementionofMarley’sfuneralbringsmebacktothepointIstartedfrom.
ThereisnodoubtthatMarleywasdead.
Thismustbedistinctlyunderstood,ornothingwonderfulcancomeofthestoryIamgoingtorelate.
IfwewerenotperfectlyconvincedthatHamlet’sFatherdiedbeforetheplaybegan,therewouldbenothingmore
notável
remarkableinhistakingapasseio
strollatnight,inaneasterlywind,uponhisownramparts,thantherewouldbeinanyothermiddle-agedgentlemanrashlyturningoutafterdarkinabreezyspot—saySaintPaul’sChurchyardforinstance—literallytoastonishhisson’sweakmind.ScroogeneverpaintedoutOldMarley’sname.
Thereitstood,yearsafterwards,abovethe
armazém
warehousedoor:ScroogeandMarley.
ThefirmwasknownasScroogeandMarley.
SometimespeoplenewtothebusinesscalledScroogeScrooge,andsometimesMarley,butheansweredtobothnames.
Itwasallthesametohim.
Oh!
Buthewasatight-fistedhandatthegrindstone,Scrooge!
asqueezing,wrenching,grasping,scraping,clutching,covetous,old
pecador
sinner!Hardandsharpas
sílex
flint,fromwhichnosteelhadeverstruckoutgeneroso
generousfire;secret,andself-contained,and
solitário
solitaryasanoyster.Thecoldwithinhimfrozehisoldfeatures,
beliscou
nippedhispointednose,shrivelledhisbochecha
cheek,stiffenedhisgait;madehiseyesred,histhinlipsblue;
andspokeoutshrewdlyinhisgratingvoice.
Afrostyrimewasonhishead,andonhiseyebrows,andhiswiry
queixo
chin.Hecarriedhisownlow
temperatura
temperaturealwaysaboutwithhim;heicedhisofficeinthedog-days;
anddidn’tthawitonedegreeatChristmas.
Externalheatandcoldhadlittle
influência
influenceonScrooge.Nowarmthcouldwarm,nowintryweatherchillhim.
Nowindthatblewwasbittererthanhe,nofallingsnowwasmoreintentuponitspurpose,nopeltingrainlessopentoentreaty.
Foulweatherdidn’tknowwheretohavehim.
Theheaviestrain,andsnow,andhail,andsleet,couldboastoftheadvantageoverhiminonlyonerespect.
Theyoften“camedown”handsomely,andScroogeneverdid.
Nobodyeverstoppedhiminthestreettosay,withgladsomelooks,“MydearScrooge,howareyou?
Whenwillyoucometoseeme?”
Nobeggars
implorou
imploredhimtobestowatrifle,nochildrenaskedhimwhatitwaso’clock,nomanorwomaneveronceinallhislifeperguntou
inquiredthewaytosuchandsuchaplace,ofScrooge.Eventheblindmen’sdogsappearedtoknowhim;
andwhentheysawhimcomingon,wouldtugtheirownersintodoorwaysandupcourts;
andthenwouldwagtheirtailsasthoughtheysaid,“Noeyeatallisbetterthananevileye,darkmaster!”
ButwhatdidScroogecare!
Itwastheverythingheliked.
Toedgehiswayalongthecrowdedpathsoflife,warningallhuman
simpatia
sympathytokeepitsdistance,waswhattheknowingonescall“nuts”toScrooge.Onceuponatime—ofallthegooddaysintheyear,onChristmasEve—oldScroogesatbusyinhiscounting-house.
Itwascold,
sombrio
bleak,bitingweather:foggywithal:
andhecouldhearthepeopleinthecourtoutside,gowheezingupanddown,beatingtheirhandsupontheirbreasts,andstampingtheirfeetuponthe
pavimento
pavementstonestowarmthem.Thecityclockshadonlyjustgonethree,butitwasquitedarkalready—ithadnotbeenlightallday—andcandleswereflaringinthewindowsoftheneighbouringoffices,likeruddysmearsuponthepalpablebrownair.
The
nevoeiro
fogcamepouringinateverychinkandkeyhole,andwassodenso
densewithout,thatalthoughthecourtwasofthenarrowest,thehousesoppositeweremeras
merephantoms.Toseethedingy
nuvem
cloudcomedroopingdown,obscuringeverything,onemighthavethoughtthatNaturelivedhardby,andwasbrewingonalargeescala
scale.ThedoorofScrooge’scounting-housewasopenthathemightkeephiseyeuponhis
funcionário
clerk,whoinadismallittlecellbeyond,asortoftank,wascopyingletters.Scroogehadaverysmallfire,buttheclerk’sfirewassoverymuch
menor
smallerthatitlookedlikeonecarvão
coal.Buthecouldn’treplenishit,forScroogekeptthecoal-boxinhisownroom;
andsosurelyasthe
funcionário
clerkcameinwiththepá
shovel,themasterpredictedthatitwouldbenecessaryforthemtopart.Whereforethe
funcionário
clerkputonhiswhitecomforter,andtriedtowarmhimselfatthevela
candle;inwhicheffort,notbeingamanofastrongimagination,hefailed.
“AmerryChristmas,uncle!
Godsaveyou!”
crieda
alegre
cheerfulvoice.ItwasthevoiceofScrooge’snephew,whocameuponhimsoquicklythatthiswasthefirstintimationhehadofhisapproach.
“Bah!”
saidScrooge,“Humbug!”
Hehadsoheatedhimselfwithrapidwalkinginthe
nevoeiro
fogandfrost,thisnephewofScrooge’s,thathewasallinabrilho
glow;hisfacewasruddyandhandsome;
hiseyes
brilhavam
sparkled,andhisbreathsmokedagain.“Christmasahumbug,uncle!”
saidScrooge’snephew.
“Youdon’tmeanthat,Iamsure?”
“Ido,”saidScrooge.
“MerryChristmas!
Whatrighthaveyoutobemerry?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemerry?
You’repoorenough.”
“Come,then,”returnedthenephewgaily.
“Whatrighthaveyoutobedismal?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemorose?
You’rerichenough.”
Scroogehavingnobetteranswerreadyonthe
impulso
spurofthemoment,said,“Bah!”again;
andfolloweditupwith“Humbug.”
“Don’tbecross,uncle!”
saidthenephew.
“WhatelsecanIbe,”returnedtheuncle,“whenIliveinsuchaworldoffoolsasthis?
MerryChristmas!
OutuponmerryChristmas!
What’sChristmastimetoyoubutatimeforpayingbillswithoutmoney;
atimeforfindingyourselfayearolder,butnotanhour
rico
richer;atimeforbalancingyourbooksandhavingeveryitemin’emthrougharound
dúzia
dozenofmonthspresenteddeadagainstyou?IfIcouldworkmywill,”saidScroogeindignantly,“everyidiotwhogoesaboutwith‘MerryChristmas’onhislips,shouldbeboiledwithhisown
pudim
pudding,andburiedwithaestaca
stakeofhollythroughhisheart.Heshould!”
“Uncle!”
implorou
pleadedthenephew.“Nephew!”
returnedtheunclesternly,“keepChristmasinyourownway,andletmekeepitinmine.”
“Keepit!”
repeatedScrooge’snephew.
“Butyoudon’tkeepit.”
“Letmeleaveitalone,then,”saidScrooge.
“Muchgoodmayitdoyou!
Muchgoodithaseverdoneyou!”
“TherearemanythingsfromwhichImighthavederivedgood,bywhichIhavenotprofited,Idaresay,”returnedthenephew.
“Christmasamongtherest.
ButIamsureIhavealwaysthoughtofChristmastime,whenithascomeround—apartfromthevenerationduetoitssacrednameand
origem
origin,ifanythingbelongingtoitcanbeapartfromthat—asagoodtime;akind,forgiving,charitable,
agradável
pleasanttime;theonlytimeIknowof,inthelong
calendário
calendaroftheyear,whenmenandwomenseembyoneconsenttoopentheirshut-upheartslivremente
freely,andtothinkofpeoplebelowthemasiftheyreallywerefellow-passengerstothegrave,andnotanotherraceofcreaturesboundonotherjourneys.Andtherefore,uncle,thoughithasneverputascrapofgoldorsilverinmypocket,Ibelievethatithasdonemegood,andwilldomegood;
andIsay,Godblessit!”
The
funcionário
clerkintheTankinvoluntarilyaplaudiu
applauded.Becomingimmediatelysensibleoftheimpropriety,hepokedthefire,and
apagou
extinguishedthelastfrailsparkforever.“Letmehearanothersoundfromyou,”saidScrooge,“andyou’llkeepyourChristmasbylosingyoursituation!
You’requiteapowerful
orador
speaker,sir,”headded,turningtohisnephew.“Iwonderyoudon’tgointoParliament.”
“Don’tbeangry,uncle.
Come!
Dinewithusto-morrow.”
Scroogesaidthathewouldseehim—yes,indeedhedid.
Hewentthewhole
comprimento
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
disputa
quarrel,towhichIhavebeenaparty.ButIhavemadethetrialin
homenagem
homagetoChristmas,andI’llkeepmyChristmashumourtothelast.SoAMerryChristmas,uncle!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
“AndAHappyNewYear!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
Hisnephewlefttheroomwithoutanangryword,notwithstanding.
Hestoppedattheouterdoortobestowthe
saudações
greetingsoftheseasononthefuncionário
clerk,who,coldashewas,waswarmerthanScrooge;forhereturnedthemcordially.
“There’sanotherfellow,”mutteredScrooge;
whooverheardhim:
“my
funcionário
clerk,withfifteenshillingsaweek,andawifeandfamily,talkingaboutamerryChristmas.I’ll
aposentar
retiretoBedlam.”Thislunatic,inlettingScrooge’snephewout,hadlettwootherpeoplein.Theywereportlygentlemen,pleasanttobehold,andnowstood,withtheirhatsoff,inScrooge’soffice.
Theyhadbooksandpapersintheirhands,andbowedtohim.
“ScroogeandMarley’s,Ibelieve,”saidoneofthegentlemen,
referindo
referringtohislist.“HaveIthepleasureofaddressingMr.Scrooge,orMr.Marley?”
“Mr.
Marleyhasbeendeadthesesevenyears,”Scrooge
respondeu
replied.“Hediedsevenyearsago,thisverynight.”
“Wehavenodoubthisliberalityiswellrepresentedbyhissurvivingpartner,”saidthegentleman,presentinghiscredentials.
Itcertainlywas;
fortheyhadbeentwokindredspirits.
Attheominousword“liberality,”Scrooge
franziu
frowned,andshookhishead,andhandedthecredentialsback.“Atthisfestiveseasonoftheyear,Mr.Scrooge,”saidthegentleman,takingupapen,“itismorethanusually
desejável
desirablethatweshouldmakesomepequena
slightprovisionforthePooranddestitute,whosuffermuito
greatlyatthepresenttime.Manythousandsareinwantofcommonnecessaries;
hundredsofthousandsareinwantofcommoncomforts,sir.”
“Aretherenoprisons?”
askedScrooge.
“Plentyofprisons,”saidthegentleman,layingdownthepenagain.
“AndtheUnionworkhouses?”
exigiu
demandedScrooge.“Aretheystillinoperation?”
“Theyare.
Still,”returnedthegentleman,“IwishIcouldsaytheywerenot.”
“TheTreadmillandthePoorLawareinfullvigour,then?”
saidScrooge.
“Bothverybusy,sir.”
“Oh!
Iwasafraid,fromwhatyousaidatfirst,thatsomethinghadoccurredtostopthemintheirusefulcourse,”saidScrooge.
“I’mverygladtohearit.”
“Underthe
impressão
impressionthattheyscarcelyfurnishChristiancheerofmindorbodytothemultitude,”returnedthegentleman,“afewofusareendeavouringtoraiseafundo
fundtobuythePoorsomemeatanddrink,andmeansofcalor
warmth.Wechoosethistime,becauseitisatime,ofallothers,whenWantiskeenlyfelt,and
Abundância
Abundancerejoices.WhatshallIputyoudownfor?”
“Nothing!”
Scrooge
respondeu
replied.“Youwishtobeanonymous?”
“Iwishtobeleftalone,”saidScrooge.
“SinceyouaskmewhatIwish,gentlemen,thatismyanswer.