STAVEONE.
MARLEY’SGHOST.
Marleywasdead:
tobeginwith.
Thereisnodoubtwhateveraboutthat.
Theregisterofhisburialwassignedbytheclergyman,theclerk,theundertaker,andthechiefmourner.
Scroogesignedit:
andScrooge’snamewasgoodupon’Change,foranythinghechosetoputhishandto.
OldMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.
Mind!
Idon’tmeantosaythatIknow,ofmyown
kunskap
knowledge,whatthereisparticularlydeadaboutadoor-nail.Imighthavebeeninclined,myself,toregardacoffin-nailasthedeadestpieceofironmongeryinthetrade.
Butthewisdomofourancestorsisinthesimile;
andmyunhallowedhandsshallnotdisturbit,ortheCountry’sdonefor.
Youwill
därför
thereforepermitmetorepeat,emphatically,thatMarleywasasdeadasadoor-nail.Scroogeknewhewasdead?
Ofcoursehedid.
Howcoulditbeotherwise?
ScroogeandhewerepartnersforIdon’tknowhowmanyyears.
Scroogewashissoleexecutor,hissoleadministrator,hissoleassign,hissoleresiduarylegatee,hissolefriend,andsolemourner.
AndevenScroogewasnotsodreadfullycutupbythesadevent,butthathewasanexcellentmanofbusinessontheverydayofthefuneral,andsolemniseditwithanundoubtedbargain.
ThementionofMarley’s
begravning
funeralbringsmebacktothepointIstartedfrom.ThereisnodoubtthatMarleywasdead.
Thismustbedistinctlyunderstood,ornothingwonderfulcancomeofthestoryIamgoingtorelate.
Ifwewerenotperfectly
övertygade
convincedthatHamlet’sFatherdiedbeforetheplaybegan,therewouldbenothingmoreremarkableinhistakingastrollatnight,inaneasterlywind,uponhisownramparts,thantherewouldbeinanyothermiddle-agedgentleman
gentlemanrashlyturningoutafterdarkinabreezyspot—saySaint
SaintPaul’sChurchyardforinstance—literallytoastonishhisson’ssvaga
weakmind.ScroogeneverpaintedoutOldMarley’sname.
Thereitstood,yearsafterwards,abovethewarehousedoor:
ScroogeandMarley.
ThefirmwasknownasScroogeandMarley.
SometimespeoplenewtothebusinesscalledScroogeScrooge,andsometimesMarley,butheansweredtobothnames.
Itwasallthesametohim.
Oh!
Buthewasatight-fistedhandatthegrindstone,Scrooge!
asqueezing,wrenching,grasping,scraping,clutching,covetous,oldsinner!
Hardand
skarp
sharpasflint,fromwhichnostål
steelhadeverstruckoutgenerousfire;secret,andself-contained,andsolitaryasanoyster.
Thecoldwithinhim
frös
frozehisoldfeatures,nippedhispointednose,shrivelledhischeek,stiffenedhisgait;madehiseyesred,his
tunna
thinlipsblue;andspokeoutshrewdlyinhisgratingvoice.
Afrostyrimewasonhishead,andonhiseyebrows,andhiswirychin.
Hecarriedhisownlowtemperaturealwaysaboutwithhim;
heicedhisofficeinthedog-days;
anddidn’tthawitone
grad
degreeatChristmas.ExternalheatandcoldhadlittleinfluenceonScrooge.
Nowarmthcouldwarm,nowintryweather
kyla
chillhim.Nowindthatblewwasbittererthanhe,nofalling
snö
snowwasmoreintentuponitssyfte
purpose,nopeltingrainlessopentoentreaty.Foul
vädret
weatherdidn’tknowwheretohavehim.Theheaviestrain,andsnow,and
hagel
hail,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,
varna
warningallhumansympathytokeepitsdistance,waswhattheknowingonescall“nuts”toScrooge.Onceuponatime—ofallthegooddaysintheyear,onChristmasEve—oldScroogesatbusyinhiscounting-house.
Itwascold,bleak,biting
väder
weather:foggywithal:
andhecouldhearthepeopleinthecourtoutside,gowheezingupanddown,beatingtheirhandsupontheirbreasts,andstampingtheirfeetuponthepavementstonestowarmthem.
Thecityclockshadonlyjustgonethree,butitwasquitedarkalready—ithadnotbeenlightallday—andcandleswereflaringinthewindowsoftheneighbouringoffices,likeruddysmearsuponthepalpable
bruna
brownair.Thefogcamepouringinateverychinkandkeyhole,andwassodensewithout,thatalthoughthecourtwasofthenarrowest,thehouses
mittemot
oppositeweremerephantoms.Toseethedingycloudcomedroopingdown,obscuringeverything,onemighthavethoughtthatNaturelivedhardby,andwasbrewingonalargescale.
ThedoorofScrooge’scounting-housewasopenthathemightkeephiseyeuponhisclerk,whoinadismallittlecell
bortom
beyond,asortoftank,waskopierade
copyingletters.Scroogehadaverysmallfire,buttheclerk’sfirewassoverymuchsmallerthatitlookedlikeonecoal.
Buthecouldn’treplenishit,forScroogekeptthecoal-boxinhisownroom;
andso
säkert
surelyastheclerkcameinwiththeshovel,themasterpredictedthatitwouldbenecessaryforthemtopart.Whereforetheclerkputonhiswhitecomforter,andtriedtowarmhimselfatthecandle;
inwhich
ansträngning
effort,notbeingamanofastrongfantasi
imagination,hefailed.“AmerryChristmas,uncle!
Godsaveyou!”
criedacheerfulvoice.
ItwasthevoiceofScrooge’s
brorson
nephew,whocameuponhimsoquicklythatthiswasthefirstintimationhehadofhistillvägagångssätt
approach.“Bah!”
saidScrooge,“Humbug!”
Hehadsoheatedhimselfwithrapidwalkinginthefogandfrost,this
brorson
nephewofScrooge’s,thathewasallinaglow;hisfacewasruddyand
stilig
handsome;hiseyessparkled,andhis
andedräkt
breathsmokedagain.“Christmasahumbug,uncle!”
saidScrooge’s
brorson
nephew.“Youdon’tmeanthat,Iamsure?”
“Ido,”saidScrooge.
“MerryChristmas!
Whatrighthaveyoutobe
glad
merry?Whatreasonhaveyoutobe
glad
merry?You’repoorenough.”
“Come,then,”returnedthenephewgaily.
“Whatrighthaveyoutobedismal?
Whatreasonhaveyoutobemorose?
You’rerichenough.”
Scroogehavingnobetteranswerreadyonthespurofthemoment,said,“Bah!”
again;
andfolloweditupwith“Humbug.”
“Don’tbecross,uncle!”
saidthenephew.
“WhatelsecanIbe,”returnedtheuncle,“whenIliveinsuchaworldoffoolsasthis?
MerryChristmas!
Outupon
god
merryChristmas!What’sChristmastimetoyoubutatimeforpayingbillswithoutmoney;
atimeforfindingyourselfayear
äldre
older,butnotanhourricher;atimefor
balansera
balancingyourbooksandhavingeveryitemin’emthrougharounddozenofmonthspresenteddeadagainstyou?IfIcouldworkmywill,”saidScroogeindignantly,“everyidiotwhogoesaboutwith‘MerryChristmas’onhislips,shouldbeboiledwithhisownpudding,andburiedwithastakeofhollythroughhisheart.
Heshould!”
“Uncle!”
pleadedthenephew.
“Nephew!”
returnedtheunclesternly,“keepChristmasinyourownway,andletmekeepitinmine.”
“Keepit!”
upprepade
repeatedScrooge’snephew.“Butyoudon’tkeepit.”
“Letmeleaveitalone,then,”saidScrooge.
“Muchgoodmayitdoyou!
Muchgoodithaseverdoneyou!”
“TherearemanythingsfromwhichImighthavederivedgood,bywhichIhavenotprofited,Idaresay,”returnedthenephew.
“Christmas
bland
amongtherest.ButIamsureIhavealwaysthoughtofChristmastime,whenithascomeround—apartfromthevenerationduetoitssacrednameandorigin,ifanything
tillhör
belongingtoitcanbeapartfromthat—asagoodtime;akind,forgiving,charitable,pleasanttime;
theonlytimeIknowof,inthelongcalendaroftheyear,whenmenandwomenseembyoneconsenttoopentheirshut-upheartsfreely,andtothinkofpeople
under
belowthemasiftheyreallywerefellow-passengerstothegraven
grave,andnotanotherraceofcreaturesbundna
boundonotherjourneys.And
därför
therefore,uncle,thoughithasneverputascrapofgoldorsilver
silverinmypocket,Ibelievethatithasdonemegood,andwilldomegood;andIsay,Godblessit!”
Theclerkinthe
Tanken
Tankinvoluntarilyapplauded.Becomingimmediatelysensibleoftheimpropriety,hepokedthefire,andextinguishedthelastfrailsparkforever.
“Letmehearanothersoundfromyou,”saidScrooge,“andyou’llkeepyourChristmasbylosingyoursituation!
You’requitea
kraftfull
powerfulspeaker,sir,”headded,turningtohisbrorson
nephew.“Iwonderyoudon’tgointoParliament.”
“Don’tbeangry,uncle.
Come!
Dinewithusto-morrow.”
Scroogesaidthathewouldseehim—yes,indeedhedid.
Hewentthewholelengthoftheexpression,andsaidthathewouldseehiminthatextremityfirst.
“Butwhy?”
criedScrooge’s
brorson
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.
ButIhavemadethetrialinhomagetoChristmas,andI’llkeepmyChristmashumourtothelast.
SoA
God
MerryChristmas,uncle!”“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
“AndAHappyNewYear!”
“Goodafternoon!”
saidScrooge.
His
brorson
nephewlefttheroomwithoutanangryword,notwithstanding.Hestoppedattheouterdoortobestowthegreetingsoftheseasonontheclerk,who,coldashewas,waswarmerthanScrooge;
forhereturnedthemcordially.
“There’sanotherfellow,”mutteredScrooge;
whooverheardhim:
“myclerk,withfifteenshillingsaweek,andawifeandfamily,talkingabouta
glad
merryChristmas.I’llretiretoBedlam.”
Thislunatic,inlettingScrooge’s
brorson
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.
“Atthisfestiveseasonoftheyear,Mr.Scrooge,”saidthegentleman,takingupa
penna
pen,“itismorethanusuallydesirablethatweshouldmakesomeslightprovisionforthePooranddestitute,wholider
suffergreatlyatthepresenttime.Manythousandsareinwantof
vanliga
commonnecessaries;hundredsofthousandsareinwantof
vanliga
commoncomforts,sir.”“Aretherenoprisons?”
askedScrooge.
“Plentyofprisons,”saidthegentleman,layingdownthepenagain.
“AndtheUnionworkhouses?”
demandedScrooge.
“Aretheystillinoperation?”
“Theyare.
Still,”returnedthegentleman,“IwishIcouldsaytheywerenot.”
“TheTreadmillandthePoorLawareinfullvigour,then?”
saidScrooge.
“Bothverybusy,sir.”
“Oh!
Iwasafraid,fromwhatyousaidatfirst,thatsomethinghadoccurredtostopthemintheir
användbara
usefulcourse,”saidScrooge.“I’mverygladtohearit.”
“UndertheimpressionthattheyscarcelyfurnishChristiancheerofmindorbodytothemultitude,”returnedthegentleman,“afewofusareendeavouringtoraiseafundtobuythePoorsomemeatanddrink,andmeansofwarmth.
Wechoosethistime,becauseitisatime,ofallothers,whenWantiskeenlyfelt,andAbundancerejoices.
WhatshallIputyoudownfor?”
“Nothing!”
Scroogereplied.
“Youwishtobeanonymous?”
“Iwishtobeleftalone,”saidScrooge.
“SinceyouaskmewhatIwish,gentlemen,thatismyanswer.