STAVEONE.
MARLEY’SGHOST.
Marleywasdead:
to
empezar
beginwith.Thereisno
duda
doubtwhateveraboutthat.Theregisterofhisburialwassignedbytheclergyman,theclerk,theundertaker,andthechiefmourner.
Scroogesignedit:
andScrooge’snamewasgoodupon’Change,foranythinghe
eligiera
chosetoputhishandto.OldMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Mind!
Idon’tmeantosaythatIknow,ofmyownknowledge,whatthereisparticularlydeadaboutadoor-nail.
Imighthavebeeninclined,myself,toregardacoffin-nailasthedeadest
pieza
pieceofironmongeryinthetrade.Butthewisdomofourancestorsisinthesimile;
andmyunhallowedhandsshallnotdisturbit,ortheCountry’sdonefor.
Youwillthereforepermitmetorepeat,emphatically,thatMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Scroogeknewhewasdead?
Ofcoursehedid.
Howcoulditbeotherwise?
ScroogeandhewerepartnersforIdon’tknowhowmanyyears.
Scroogewashissoleexecutor,hissoleadministrator,hissoleassign,hissoleresiduarylegatee,hissolefriend,andsolemourner.
AndevenScroogewasnotsodreadfullycutupbythe
triste
sadevent,butthathewasanexcelente
excellentmanofbusinessontheverydayofthefuneral,andsolemniseditwithanundoubtedbargain.The
mención
mentionofMarley’sfuneralbringsmebacktothepointIstartedfrom.Thereisno
duda
doubtthatMarleywasdead.Thismustbedistinctlyunderstood,ornothing
maravilloso
wonderfulcancomeofthestoryIamgoingtorelate.IfwewerenotperfectlyconvincedthatHamlet’sFatherdiedbeforetheplay
comenzara
began,therewouldbenothingmoreremarkableinhistakingastrollatnight,inaneasterlyviento
wind,uponhisownramparts,thantherewouldbeinanyothermiddle-agedgentlemanrashlyturningoutafterdarkinabreezyspot—saySaintPaul’sChurchyardforinstance—literallytoastonishhisson’sweakmind.ScroogeneverpaintedoutOldMarley’sname.
Thereitstood,yearsafterwards,
encima
abovethewarehousedoor:ScroogeandMarley.
ThefirmwasknownasScroogeandMarley.
SometimespeoplenewtothebusinesscalledScroogeScrooge,andsometimesMarley,butheansweredtobothnames.
Itwasallthesametohim.
Oh!
Buthewasatight-fistedhandatthegrindstone,Scrooge!
asqueezing,wrenching,grasping,scraping,clutching,covetous,oldsinner!
Hardandsharpasflint,fromwhichnosteelhadeverstruckoutgenerousfire;
secreto
secret,andself-contained,andsolitaryasanoyster.Thecoldwithinhimfrozehisoldfeatures,nippedhispointed
nariz
nose,shrivelledhischeek,stiffenedhisgait;madehiseyesred,histhinlipsblue;
andspokeoutshrewdlyinhisgrating
voz
voice.Afrostyrimewasonhishead,andonhiseyebrows,andhiswirychin.
He
llevaba
carriedhisownlowtemperaturealwaysaboutwithhim;heicedhisofficeinthedog-days;
anddidn’tthawitonedegreeat
Navidad
Christmas.ExternalheatandcoldhadlittleinfluenceonScrooge.
Nowarmthcouldwarm,nowintryweatherchillhim.
No
viento
windthatblewwasbittererthanhe,nofallingsnowwasmoreintentuponitspurpose,nopeltinglluvia
rainlessopentoentreaty.Foulweatherdidn’tknowwheretohavehim.
Theheaviest
lluvia
rain,andsnow,andhail,andsleet,couldboastoftheadvantageoverhiminonlyonerespect.Theyoften“camedown”handsomely,andScroogeneverdid.
Nobodyeverstoppedhiminthestreettosay,withgladsomelooks,“MydearScrooge,howareyou?
Whenwillyoucometoseeme?”
Nobeggarsimploredhimtobestowatrifle,nochildrenaskedhimwhatitwaso’clock,nomanorwomaneveronceinallhislifeinquiredthewaytosuchandsuchaplace,ofScrooge.
Eventheblindmen’sdogsappearedtoknowhim;
andwhentheysawhimcomingon,wouldtugtheirownersintodoorwaysandupcourts;
andthenwouldwagtheirtailsasthoughtheysaid,“No
ojo
eyeatallisbetterthananmal
evileye,darkmaster!”ButwhatdidScroogecare!
Itwastheverythingheliked.
Toedgehiswayalongthecrowdedpathsoflife,warningallhumansympathytokeepitsdistance,waswhattheknowingonescall“nuts”toScrooge.
Onceuponatime—ofallthegooddaysintheyear,on
Navidad
ChristmasEve—oldScroogesatbusyinhiscounting-house.Itwascold,bleak,bitingweather:
foggywithal:
andhecouldhearthepeopleinthecourtoutside,gowheezingupanddown,beatingtheirhandsupontheirbreasts,andstampingtheir
pies
feetuponthepavementstonestowarmthem.Thecityclockshadonlyjustgonethree,butitwasquite
oscuro
darkalready—ithadnotbeenlightallday—andcandleswereflaringinthewindowsoftheneighbouringoffices,likeruddysmearsuponthepalpablebrownair.Thefogcamepouringinateverychinkandkeyhole,andwassodensewithout,thatalthoughthe
corte
courtwasofthenarrowest,thehousesoppositeweremerephantoms.Toseethedingycloudcomedroopingdown,obscuringeverything,onemighthavethoughtthat
Naturaleza
Naturelivedhardby,andwasbrewingonagran
largescale.ThedoorofScrooge’scounting-housewasopenthathemightkeephiseyeuponhisclerk,whoinadismallittle
celda
cellbeyond,asortoftank,wascopyingletters.Scroogehadaverysmallfire,buttheclerk’sfirewassoverymuchsmallerthatitlookedlikeonecoal.
Buthecouldn’treplenishit,forScroogekeptthecoal-boxinhisownroom;
andsosurelyastheclerkcameinwiththeshovel,themasterpredictedthatitwouldbe
necesario
necessaryforthemtopart.Whereforetheclerkputonhiswhitecomforter,andtriedtowarmhimselfatthecandle;
inwhicheffort,notbeingamanofa
fuerte
strongimagination,hefailed.“Amerry
Navidad
Christmas,uncle!Godsaveyou!”
criedacheerful
voz
voice.ItwasthevoiceofScrooge’snephew,whocameuponhimso
rápidamente
quicklythatthiswasthefirstintimationhehadofhisapproach.“Bah!”
saidScrooge,“Humbug!”
Hehadsoheatedhimselfwithrapidwalkinginthefogandfrost,thisnephewofScrooge’s,thathewasallinaglow;
hisfacewasruddyandhandsome;
hiseyessparkled,andhisbreathsmokedagain.
“Christmasahumbug,uncle!”
saidScrooge’snephew.
“Youdon’tmeanthat,Iamsure?”
“Ido,”saidScrooge.
“Merry
Navidad
Christmas!Whatrighthaveyoutobemerry?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemerry?
You’repoorenough.”
“Come,then,”returnedthenephewgaily.
“Whatrighthaveyoutobedismal?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemorose?
You’re
rico
richenough.”Scroogehavingnobetteranswerreadyonthespurofthemoment,said,“Bah!”
again;
andfolloweditupwith“Humbug.”
“Don’tbecross,uncle!”
saidthenephew.
“WhatelsecanIbe,”returnedtheuncle,“whenIliveinsuchaworldoffoolsasthis?
Merry
Navidad
Christmas!OutuponmerryChristmas!
What’s
Navidad
Christmastimetoyoubutatimeforpayingbillswithoutmoney;atimeforfindingyourselfayearolder,butnotanhourricher;
atimeforbalancingyourbooksandhavingeveryitemin’emthrougharounddozenofmonthspresenteddeadagainstyou?
IfIcouldworkmywill,”saidScroogeindignantly,“every
idiota
idiotwhogoesaboutwith‘MerryChristmas’onhislips,shouldbeboiledwithhisownpudding,andburiedwithastakeofhollythroughhisheart.Heshould!”
“Uncle!”
pleadedthenephew.
“Nephew!”
returnedtheunclesternly,“keep
Navidad
Christmasinyourownway,andletmekeepitinmine.”“Keepit!”
repeatedScrooge’snephew.
“Butyoudon’tkeepit.”
“Letmeleaveitalone,then,”saidScrooge.
“Muchgoodmayitdoyou!
Muchgoodithaseverdoneyou!”
“TherearemanythingsfromwhichImighthavederivedgood,bywhichIhavenotprofited,I
atrevo
daresay,”returnedthenephew.“Christmasamongtherest.
ButIamsureIhavealwaysthoughtof
Navidad
Christmastime,whenithascomeround—apartfromthevenerationduetoitssacrednameandorigin,ifanythingbelongingtoitcanbeaparte
apartfromthat—asagoodtime;akind,forgiving,charitable,pleasanttime;
theonlytimeIknowof,inthelongcalendaroftheyear,whenmenandwomen
parecen
seembyoneconsenttoopentheirshut-upheartsfreely,andtothinkofpeoplebelowthemasiftheyreallywerefellow-passengerstothegrave,andnotanotherraza
raceofcreaturesboundonotherjourneys.Andtherefore,uncle,thoughithasneverputascrapof
oro
goldorsilverinmypocket,Ibelievethatithasdonemegood,andwilldomegood;andIsay,Godblessit!”
TheclerkintheTankinvoluntarilyapplauded.
Becomingimmediatelysensibleoftheimpropriety,hepokedthefire,andextinguishedthelastfrailsparkforever.
“Letmehearanothersoundfromyou,”saidScrooge,“andyou’llkeepyour
Navidad
Christmasbylosingyoursituation!You’requiteapowerfulspeaker,sir,”headded,turningtohisnephew.
“Iwonderyoudon’tgointoParliament.”
“Don’tbeangry,uncle.
Come!
Dinewithusto-morrow.”
Scroogesaidthathewouldseehim—yes,indeedhedid.
Hewentthewholelengthoftheexpression,andsaidthathewouldseehiminthatextremityfirst.
“Butwhy?”
criedScrooge’snephew.
“Why?”
“Whydidyougetmarried?”
saidScrooge.
“BecauseIfellinlove.”
“Becauseyoufellinlove!”
growledScrooge,asifthatweretheonlyonethingintheworldmoreridiculousthanamerry
Navidad
Christmas.“Goodafternoon!”
“Nay,uncle,butyounevercametoseemebeforethathappened.
Whygiveitasareasonfornotcomingnow?”
“Goodafternoon,”saidScrooge.
“Iwantnothingfromyou;
Iasknothingofyou;
whycannotwebefriends?”
“Goodafternoon,”saidScrooge.
“Iamsorry,withallmyheart,tofindyousoresolute.
Wehaveneverhadanyquarrel,towhichIhavebeenaparty.
ButIhavemadethetrialinhomageto
Navidad
Christmas,andI’llkeepmyNavidad
Christmashumourtothelast.SoAMerry
Navidad
Christmas,uncle!”“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
“AndAHappyNewYear!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
Hisnephewlefttheroomwithoutanangryword,notwithstanding.
Hestoppedattheouterdoortobestowthegreetingsoftheseasonontheclerk,who,coldashewas,waswarmerthanScrooge;
forhereturnedthemcordially.
“There’sanotherfellow,”mutteredScrooge;
whooverheardhim:
“myclerk,withfifteenshillingsaweek,andawifeandfamily,talkingaboutamerry
Navidad
Christmas.I’llretiretoBedlam.”
Thislunatic,inlettingScrooge’snephewout,hadlettwootherpeoplein.Theywereportlygentlemen,pleasanttobehold,andnowstood,withtheirhatsoff,inScrooge’soffice.
Theyhadbooksandpapersintheirhands,andbowedtohim.
“ScroogeandMarley’s,Ibelieve,”saidoneofthegentlemen,referringtohis
lista
list.“HaveIthepleasureofaddressingMr.Scrooge,orMr.Marley?”
“Mr.
Marleyhasbeendeadthese
siete
sevenyears,”Scroogereplied.“Hedied
siete
sevenyearsago,thisverynight.”“Wehaveno
duda
doubthisliberalityiswellrepresentedbyhissurvivingpartner,”saidthegentleman,presentando
presentinghiscredentials.Itcertainlywas;
fortheyhadbeentwokindredspirits.
Attheominousword“liberality,”Scroogefrowned,andshookhishead,andhandedthecredentialsback.
“Atthisfestiveseasonoftheyear,Mr.Scrooge,”saidthegentleman,takingupapen,“itismorethanusuallydesirablethatweshouldmakesomeslightprovisionforthePooranddestitute,whosuffergreatlyatthepresenttime.
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,“afewofusareendeavouringto
recaudar
raiseafundtobuythePoorsomemeatanddrink,andmeansofwarmth.We
elegimos
choosethistime,becauseitisatime,ofallothers,whenWantiskeenlyfelt,andAbundancerejoices.WhatshallIputyoudownfor?”
“Nothing!”
Scroogereplied.
“Youwishtobeanonymous?”
“Iwishtobeleftalone,”saidScrooge.
“SinceyouaskmewhatIwish,gentlemen,thatismyanswer.