English
Itisthecustomonthestage,inallgoodmurderousmelodramas,topresentthetragicandthecomicscenes,inasregularalternation,asthelayersofredandwhiteinasideofstreakybacon.
Theherosinksuponhisstrawbed,weigheddownbyfettersandmisfortunes;inthenextscene,hisfaithfulbutunconscioussquireregalestheaudiencewithacomicsong.
Webehold,withthrobbingbosoms,theheroineinthegraspofaproudandruthlessbaron:hervirtueandherlifealikeindanger,drawingforthherdaggertopreservetheoneatthecostoftheother;andjustasourexpectationsarewroughtuptothehighestpitch,awhistleisheard,andwearestraightwaytransportedtothegreathallofthecastle;whereagrey-headedseneschalsingsafunnychoruswithafunnierbodyofvassals,whoarefreeofallsortsofplaces,fromchurchvaultstopalaces,androamaboutincompany,carollingperpetually.
Suchchangesappearabsurd;buttheyarenotsounnaturalastheywouldseematfirstsight.
Thetransitionsinreallifefromwell-spreadboardstodeath-beds,andfrommourning-weedstoholidaygarments,arenotawhitlessstartling;only,there,wearebusyactors,insteadofpassivelookers-on,whichmakesavastdifference.
Theactorsinthemimiclifeofthetheatre,areblindtoviolenttransitionsandabruptimpulsesofpassionorfeeling,which,presentedbeforetheeyesofmerespectators,areatoncecondemnedasoutrageousandpreposterous.
Assuddenshiftingsofthescene,andrapidchangesoftimeandplace,arenotonlysanctionedinbooksbylongusage,butarebymanyconsideredasthegreatartofauthorship:anauthor’sskillinhiscraftbeing,bysuchcritics,chieflyestimatedwithrelationtothedilemmasinwhichheleaveshischaractersattheendofeverychapter:thisbriefintroductiontothepresentonemayperhapsbedeemedunnecessary.
Ifso,letitbeconsideredadelicateintimationonthepartofthehistorianthatheisgoingbacktothetowninwhichOliverTwistwasborn;thereadertakingitforgrantedthattherearegoodandsubstantialreasonsformakingthejourney,orhewouldnotbeinvitedtoproceeduponsuchanexpedition.
Mr.Bumbleemergedatearlymorningfromtheworkhouse-gate,andwalkedwithportlycarriageandcommandingsteps,uptheHighStreet.
Hewasinthefullbloomandprideofbeadlehood;hiscockedhatandcoatweredazzlinginthemorningsun;heclutchedhiscanewiththevigoroustenacityofhealthandpower.
Mr.Bumblealwayscarriedhisheadhigh;butthismorningitwashigherthanusual.
Therewasanabstractioninhiseye,anelevationinhisair,whichmighthavewarnedanobservantstrangerthatthoughtswerepassinginthebeadle’smind,toogreatforutterance.
Mr.Bumblestoppednottoconversewiththesmallshopkeepersandotherswhospoketohim,deferentially,ashepassedalong.
Hemerelyreturnedtheirsalutationswithawaveofhishand,andrelaxednotinhisdignifiedpace,untilhereachedthefarmwhereMrs.Manntendedtheinfantpauperswithparochialcare.
‘Dratthatbeadle!’saidMrs.Mann,hearingthewell-knownshakingatthegarden-gate.
‘Ifitisn’thimatthistimeinthemorning!
Lauk,Mr.Bumble,onlythinkofitsbeingyou!
Well,dearme,itISapleasure,thisis!Comeintotheparlour,sir,please.’
ThefirstsentencewasaddressedtoSusan;andtheexclamationsofdelightwereutteredtoMr.Bumble:asthegoodladyunlockedthegarden-gate:andshowedhim,withgreatattentionandrespect,intothehouse.
‘Mrs.Mann,’saidMr.Bumble;notsittingupon,ordroppinghimselfintoaseat,asanycommonjackanapeswould:butlettinghimselfgraduallyandslowlydownintoachair;‘Mrs.Mann,ma’am,goodmorning.’
‘Well,andgoodmorningtoyou,sir,’repliedMrs.Mann,withmanysmiles;‘andhopingyoufindyourselfwell,sir!’
‘So-so,Mrs.Mann,’repliedthebeadle.‘Aporochiallifeisnotabedofroses,Mrs.Mann.’
‘Ah,thatitisn’tindeed,Mr.Bumble,’rejoinedthelady.Andalltheinfantpaupersmighthavechorussedtherejoinderwithgreatpropriety,iftheyhadheardit.
‘Aporochiallife,ma’am,’continuedMr.Bumble,strikingthetablewithhiscane,‘isalifeofworrit,andvexation,andhardihood;butallpubliccharacters,asImaysay,mustsufferprosecution.’
Mrs.Mann,notverywellknowingwhatthebeadlemeant,raisedherhandswithalookofsympathy,andsighed.
‘Ah!Youmaywellsigh,Mrs.Mann!’saidthebeadle.
Findingshehaddoneright,Mrs.Mannsighedagain:evidentlytothesatisfactionofthepubliccharacter:who,repressingacomplacentsmilebylookingsternlyathiscockedhat,said,
‘Mrs.Mann,IamgoingtoLondon.’
‘Lauk,Mr.Bumble!’criedMrs.Mann,startingback.
‘ToLondon,ma’am,’resumedtheinflexiblebeadle,‘bycoach.Iandtwopaupers,Mrs.Mann!
Alegalactionisacomingon,aboutasettlement;andtheboardhasappointedme—me,Mrs.Mann—todisposetothematterbeforethequarter-sessionsatClerkinwell.
AndIverymuchquestion,’addedMr.Bumble,drawinghimselfup,‘whethertheClerkinwellSessionswillnotfindthemselvesinthewrongboxbeforetheyhavedonewithme.’
‘Oh!youmustn’tbetooharduponthem,sir,’saidMrs.Mann,coaxingly.
‘TheClerkinwellSessionshavebroughtituponthemselves,ma’am,’repliedMr.Bumble;‘andiftheClerkinwellSessionsfindthattheycomeoffratherworsethantheyexpected,theClerkinwellSessionshaveonlythemselvestothank.’
TherewassomuchdeterminationanddepthofpurposeaboutthemenacingmannerinwhichMr.Bumbledeliveredhimselfofthesewords,thatMrs.Mannappearedquiteawedbythem.Atlengthshesaid,
‘You’regoingbycoach,sir?Ithoughtitwasalwaysusualtosendthempaupersincarts.’
‘That’swhenthey’reill,Mrs.Mann,’saidthebeadle.‘Weputthesickpaupersintoopencartsintherainyweather,topreventtheirtakingcold.’
‘Oh!’saidMrs.Mann.
‘Theoppositioncoachcontractsforthesetwo;andtakesthemcheap,’saidMr.Bumble.
‘Theyarebothinaverylowstate,andwefinditwouldcometwopoundcheapertomove‘emthantobury‘em—thatis,ifwecanthrow‘emuponanotherparish,whichIthinkweshallbeabletodo,iftheydon’tdieupontheroadtospiteus.Ha!ha!ha!’
WhenMr.Bumblehadlaughedalittlewhile,hiseyesagainencounteredthecockedhat;andhebecamegrave.
‘Weareforgettingbusiness,ma’am,’saidthebeadle;‘hereisyourporochialstipendforthemonth.’
Mr.Bumbleproducedsomesilvermoneyrolledupinpaper,fromhispocket-book;andrequestedareceipt:whichMrs.Mannwrote.
‘It’sverymuchblotted,sir,’saidthefarmerofinfants;‘butit’sformalenough,Idaresay.Thankyou,Mr.Bumble,sir,Iamverymuchobligedtoyou,I’msure.’
Mr.Bumblenodded,blandly,inacknowledgmentofMrs.Mann’scurtsey;andinquiredhowthechildrenwere.
‘Blesstheirdearlittlehearts!’saidMrs.Mannwithemotion,‘they’reaswellascanbe,thedears!Ofcourse,exceptthetwothatdiedlastweek.AndlittleDick.’
‘Isn’tthatboynobetter?’inquiredMr.Bumble.
Mrs.Mannshookherhead.
‘He’saill-conditioned,wicious,bad-disposedporochialchildthat,’saidMr.Bumbleangrily.‘Whereishe?’
‘I’llbringhimtoyouinoneminute,sir,’repliedMrs.Mann.‘Here,youDick!’
Aftersomecalling,Dickwasdiscovered.Havinghadhisfaceputunderthepump,anddrieduponMrs.Mann’sgown,hewasledintotheawfulpresenceofMr.Bumble,thebeadle.
Thechildwaspaleandthin;hischeeksweresunken;andhiseyeslargeandbright.
Thescantyparishdress,theliveryofhismisery,hunglooselyonhisfeeblebody;andhisyounglimbshadwastedaway,likethoseofanoldman.
SuchwasthelittlebeingwhostoodtremblingbeneathMr.Bumble’sglance;notdaringtolifthiseyesfromthefloor;anddreadingeventohearthebeadle’svoice.
‘Can’tyoulookatthegentleman,youobstinateboy?’saidMrs.Mann.
Thechildmeeklyraisedhiseyes,andencounteredthoseofMr.Bumble.
‘What’sthematterwithyou,porochialDick?’inquiredMr.Bumble,withwell-timedjocularity.
‘Nothing,sir,’repliedthechildfaintly.
‘Ishouldthinknot,’saidMrs.Mann,whohadofcourselaughedverymuchatMr.Bumble’shumour.
‘Youwantfornothing,I’msure.’
‘Ishouldlike—’falteredthechild.
‘Hey-day!’interposedMr.Mann,‘Isupposeyou’regoingtosaythatyouDOwantforsomething,now?Why,youlittlewretch—’
‘Stop,Mrs.Mann,stop!’saidthebeadle,raisinghishandwithashowofauthority.‘Likewhat,sir,eh?’
‘Ishouldlike,’falteredthechild,‘ifsomebodythatcanwrite,wouldputafewwordsdownformeonapieceofpaper,andfolditupandsealit,andkeepitforme,afterIamlaidintheground.’
‘Why,whatdoestheboymean?’exclaimedMr.Bumble,onwhomtheearnestmannerandwanaspectofthechildhadmadesomeimpression:accustomedashewastosuchthings.‘Whatdoyoumean,sir?’
‘Ishouldlike,’saidthechild,‘toleavemydearlovetopoorOliverTwist;andtolethimknowhowoftenIhavesatbymyselfandcriedtothinkofhiswanderingaboutinthedarknightswithnobodytohelphim.
AndIshouldliketotellhim,’saidthechildpressinghissmallhandstogether,andspeakingwithgreatfervour,‘thatIwasgladtodiewhenIwasveryyoung;for,perhaps,ifIhadlivedtobeaman,andhadgrownold,mylittlesisterwhoisinHeaven,mightforgetme,orbeunlikeme;anditwouldbesomuchhappierifwewerebothchildrentheretogether.’
Mr.Bumblesurveyedthelittlespeaker,fromheadtofoot,withindescribableastonishment;and,turningtohiscompanion,said,‘They’reallinonestory,Mrs.Mann.
Thatout-daciousOliverhaddemogalizedthemall!’
‘Icouldn’thavebelievedit,sir’saidMrsMann,holdingupherhands,andlookingmalignantlyatDick.‘Ineverseesuchahardenedlittlewretch!’
‘Takehimaway,ma’am!’saidMr.Bumbleimperiously.‘Thismustbestatedtotheboard,Mrs.Mann.
‘Ihopethegentlemanwillunderstandthatitisn’tmyfault,sir?’saidMrs.Mann,whimperingpathetically.
‘Theyshallunderstandthat,ma’am;theyshallbeacquaintedwiththetruestateofthecase,’saidMr.Bumble.‘There;takehimaway,Ican’tbearthesightonhim.’
Dickwasimmediatelytakenaway,andlockedupinthecoal-cellar.Mr.Bumbleshortlyafterwardstookhimselfoff,toprepareforhisjourney.
Atsixo’clocknextmorning,Mr.Bumble:havingexchangedhiscockedhatforaroundone,andencasedhispersoninabluegreat-coatwithacapetoit:tookhisplaceontheoutsideofthecoach,accompaniedbythecriminalswhosesettlementwasdisputed;withwhom,induecourseoftime,hearrivedinLondon.
Heexperiencednoothercrossesontheway,thanthosewhichoriginatedintheperversebehaviourofthetwopaupers,whopersistedinshivering,andcomplainingofthecold,inamannerwhich,Mr.Bumbledeclared,causedhisteethtochatterinhishead,andmadehimfeelquiteuncomfortable;althoughhehadagreat-coaton.
Havingdisposedoftheseevil-mindedpersonsforthenight,Mr.Bumblesathimselfdowninthehouseatwhichthecoachstopped;andtookatemperatedinnerofsteaks,oystersauce,andporter.
Puttingaglassofhotgin-and-wateronthechimney-piece,hedrewhischairtothefire;and,withsundrymoralreflectionsonthetoo-prevalentsinofdiscontentandcomplaining,composedhimselftoreadthepaper.
TheveryfirstparagraphuponwhichMr.Bumble’seyerested,wasthefollowingadvertisement.
'FIVEGUINEASREWARD
‘Whereasayoungboy,namedOliverTwist,absconded,orwasenticed,onThursdayeveninglast,fromhishome,atPentonville;andhasnotsincebeenheardof.
TheaboverewardwillbepaidtoanypersonwhowillgivesuchinformationaswillleadtothediscoveryofthesaidOliverTwist,ortendtothrowanylightuponhisprevioushistory,inwhichtheadvertiseris,formanyreasons,warmlyinterested.’
AndthenfollowedafulldescriptionofOliver’sdress,person,appearance,anddisappearance:withthenameandaddressofMr.Brownlowatfulllength.
Mr.Bumbleopenedhiseyes;readtheadvertisement,slowlyandcarefully,threeseveraltimes;andinsomethingmorethanfiveminuteswasonhiswaytoPentonville:havingactually,inhisexcitement,lefttheglassofhotgin-and-water,untasted.
‘IsMr.Brownlowathome?’inquiredMr.Bumbleofthegirlwhoopenedthedoor.
Tothisinquirythegirlreturnedthenotuncommon,butratherevasivereplyof‘Idon’tknow;wheredoyoucomefrom?’
Mr.BumblenosoonerutteredOliver’sname,inexplanationofhiserrand,thanMrs.Bedwin,whohadbeenlisteningattheparlourdoor,hastenedintothepassageinabreathlessstate.
‘Comein,comein,’saidtheoldlady:‘Iknewweshouldhearofhim.Poordear!Iknewweshould!Iwascertainofit.Blesshisheart!Isaidsoallalong.’
Havingheardthis,theworthyoldladyhurriedbackintotheparlouragain;andseatingherselfonasofa,burstintotears.
Thegirl,whowasnotquitesosusceptible,hadrunupstairsmeanwhile;andnowreturnedwitharequestthatMr.Bumblewouldfollowherimmediately:whichhedid.
Hewasshownintothelittlebackstudy,wheresatMr.BrownlowandhisfriendMr.Grimwig,withdecantersandglassesbeforethem.Thelattergentlemanatonceburstintotheexclamation:
‘Abeadle.Aparishbeadle,orI’lleatmyhead.’
‘Praydon’tinterruptjustnow,’saidMr.Brownlow.‘Takeaseat,willyou?’
Mr.Bumblesathimselfdown;quiteconfoundedbytheoddityofMr.Grimwig’smanner.
Mr.Brownlowmovedthelamp,soastoobtainanuninterruptedviewofthebeadle’scountenance;andsaid,withalittleimpatience,
‘Now,sir,youcomeinconsequenceofhavingseentheadvertisement?’
‘Yes,sir,’saidMr.Bumble.
‘AndyouAREabeadle,areyounot?’inquiredMr.Grimwig.
‘Iamaporochialbeadle,gentlemen,’rejoinedMr.Bumbleproudly.
‘Ofcourse,’observedMr.Grimwigasidetohisfriend,‘Iknewhewas.Abeadleallover!’
Mr.Brownlowgentlyshookhisheadtoimposesilenceonhisfriend,andresumed:
‘Doyouknowwherethispoorboyisnow?’
‘Nomorethannobody,’repliedMr.Bumble.
‘Well,whatDOyouknowofhim?’inquiredtheoldgentleman.‘Speakout,myfriend,ifyouhaveanythingtosay.WhatDOyouknowofhim?’
‘Youdon’thappentoknowanygoodofhim,doyou?’saidMr.Grimwig,caustically;afteranattentiveperusalofMr.Bumble’sfeatures.
Mr.Bumble,catchingattheinquiryveryquickly,shookhisheadwithportentoussolemnity.
‘Yousee?’saidMr.Grimwig,lookingtriumphantlyatMr.Brownlow.
Mr.BrownlowlookedapprehensivelyatMr.Bumble’spursed-upcountenance;andrequestedhimtocommunicatewhatheknewregardingOliver,inasfewwordsaspossible.
Mr.Bumbleputdownhishat;unbuttonedhiscoat;foldedhisarms;inclinedhisheadinaretrospectivemanner;and,afterafewmoments’reflection,commencedhisstory.
Itwouldbetediousifgiveninthebeadle’swords:occupying,asitdid,sometwentyminutesinthetelling;butthesumandsubstanceofitwas,thatOliverwasafoundling,bornoflowandviciousparents.
Thathehad,fromhisbirth,displayednobetterqualitiesthantreachery,ingratitude,andmalice.
Thathehadterminatedhisbriefcareerintheplaceofhisbirth,bymakingasanguinaryandcowardlyattackonanunoffendinglad,andrunningawayinthenight-timefromhismaster’shouse.
Inproofofhisreallybeingthepersonherepresentedhimself,Mr.Bumblelaiduponthetablethepapershehadbroughttotown.
Foldinghisarmsagain,hethenawaitedMr.Brownlow’sobservations.
‘Ifearitisalltootrue,’saidtheoldgentlemansorrowfully,afterlookingoverthepapers.
‘Thisisnotmuchforyourintelligence;butIwouldgladlyhavegivenyoutreblethemoney,ifithadbeenfavourabletotheboy.’
ItisnotimprobablethatifMr.Bumblehadbeenpossessedofthisinformationatanearlierperiodoftheinterview,hemighthaveimpartedaverydifferentcolouringtohislittlehistory.
Itwastoolatetodoitnow,however;soheshookhisheadgravely,and,pocketingthefiveguineas,withdrew.
Mr.Brownlowpacedtheroomtoandfroforsomeminutes;evidentlysomuchdisturbedbythebeadle’stale,thatevenMr.Grimwigforboretovexhimfurther.
Atlengthhestopped,andrangthebellviolently.
‘Mrs.Bedwin,’saidMr.Brownlow,whenthehousekeeperappeared;‘thatboy,Oliver,isanimposter.’
‘Itcan’tbe,sir.Itcannotbe,’saidtheoldladyenergetically.
‘Itellyouheis,’retortedtheoldgentleman.‘Whatdoyoumeanbycan’tbe?Wehavejustheardafullaccountofhimfromhisbirth;andhehasbeenathorough-pacedlittlevillain,allhislife.’
‘Ineverwillbelieveit,sir,’repliedtheoldlady,firmly.‘Never!’
‘Youoldwomenneverbelieveanythingbutquack-doctors,andlyingstory-books,’growledMr.Grimwig.‘Iknewitallalong.
Whydidn’tyoutakemyadviseinthebeginning;youwouldifhehadn’thadafever,Isuppose,eh?Hewasinteresting,wasn’the?Interesting!Bah!’
AndMr.Grimwigpokedthefirewithaflourish.
‘Hewasadear,grateful,gentlechild,sir,’retortedMrs.Bedwin,indignantly.
‘Iknowwhatchildrenare,sir;andhavedonethesefortyyears;andpeoplewhocan’tsaythesame,shouldn’tsayanythingaboutthem.That’smyopinion!’
ThiswasahardhitatMr.Grimwig,whowasabachelor.
Asitextortednothingfromthatgentlemanbutasmile,theoldladytossedherhead,andsmootheddownherapronpreparatorytoanotherspeech,whenshewasstoppedbyMr.Brownlow.
‘Silence!’saidtheoldgentleman,feigninganangerhewasfarfromfeeling.
‘Neverletmeheartheboy’snameagain.Irangtotellyouthat.Never.Never,onanypretence,mind!Youmayleavetheroom,Mrs.Bedwin.Remember!Iaminearnest.’
ThereweresadheartsatMr.Brownlow’sthatnight.
Oliver’sheartsankwithinhim,whenhethoughtofhisgoodfriends;itwaswellforhimthathecouldnotknowwhattheyhadheard,oritmighthavebrokenoutright.
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