ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fanshawe, by Nathaniel HawthorneThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and mostother parts of the world at no cost and with almost norestrictionswhatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms ofthe Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States,you'll haveto check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.Title: FanshaweAuthor: Nathaniel HawthornePosting Date: September 13, 2014 [EBook #7085]Release Date: December,2004First Posted: March 8, 2003Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FANSHAWE ***Produced by Eric Eldred, Charles Franks and the OnlineDistributed ProofreadingTeam.FANSHAWEBYNATHANIEL HAWTHORNE[Illustration]INTRODUCTORY NOTE.FANSHAWE.In 1828, three years after graduating from Bowdoin College, Hawthornepublished his first romance, "Fanshawe." It wasissued at Boston by Marsh& Capen, but made little or no impression on the public. The motto on thetitle-page of the original was from Southey: "Wilt thou go on with me?"Afterwards, when he had struck into the vein offiction that came to beknown as distinctively his own, he attempted to suppress this youthfulwork, and was so successful that he obtained and destroyed all but a fewof the copies then extant.Some twelve years afterhis death it was resolved, in view of the interestmanifested in tracing the growth of his genius from the beginning of hisactivity as an author, to revive this youthful romance; and the reissue of"Fanshawe" was thenmade.Little biographical interest attaches to it, beyond the fact that Mr.Longfellow found in the descriptions and general atmosphere of the book adecided suggestion of the situation of Bowdoin College, atBrunswick,Maine, and the life there at the time when he and Hawthorne were bothundergraduates of that institution.Professor Packard, of Bowdoin College, who was then in charge of the studyof English literature, andhas survived both of his illustrious pupils,recalls Hawthorne's exceptional excellence in the composition of English,even at that date (1821-1825); and it is not impossible that Hawthorneintended, through the characterof Fanshawe, to present some faintprojection of what he then thought might be his own obscure history. Evenwhile he was in college, however, and meditating perhaps the slenderelements of this first romance, hisfellow-student Horatio Bridge, whose"Journal of an African Cruiser" he afterwards edited, recognized in himthe possibilities of a writer of fiction--a fact to which Hawthornealludes in the dedicatory Preface to "TheSnow-Image."G. P. L.FANSHAWE       *       *       *       *       *CHAPTER I.  "Our court shall be a little Academe."--SHAKESPEARE.In an ancient though not very populous settlement, in a retired corner ofone of the NewEngland States, arise the walls of a seminary of learning,which, for the convenience of a name, shall be entitled "Harley College."This institution, though the number of its years is inconsiderablecompared with the hoarantiquity of its European sisters, is not withoutsome claims to reverence on the score of age; for an almost countlessmultitude of rivals, by many of which its reputation has been eclipsed,have sprung up since itsfoundation. At no time, indeed, during anexistence of nearly a century, has it acquired a very extensive fame; andcircumstances, which need not be particularized, have, of late years,involved it in a deeper obscurity.There are now few candidates for thedegrees that the college is authorized to bestow. On two of its annual"Commencement Days," there has been a total deficiency of baccalaureates;and the lawyers and divines, onwhom doctorates in their respectiveprofessions are gratuitously inflicted, are not accustomed to consider thedistinction as an honor. Yet the sons of this seminary have alwaysmaintained their full share of reputation, inwhatever paths of life theytrod. Few of them, perhaps, have been deep and finished scholars; but thecollege has supplied--what the emergencies of the country demanded--a setof men more useful in its present state,and whose deficiency intheoretical knowledge has not been found to imply a want of practicalability.The local situation of the college, so far secluded from the sight andsound of the busy world, is peculiarly favorable tothe moral, if not tothe literary, habits of its students; and this advantage probably causedthe founders to overlook the inconveniences that were inseparablyconnected with it. The humble edifices rear themselves almostat thefarthest extremity of a narrow vale, which, winding through a long extentof hill-country, is wellnigh as inaccessible, except at one point, as theHappy Valley of Abyssinia. A stream, that farther on becomesaconsiderable river, takes its rise at, a short distance above the college,and affords, along its wood-fringed banks, many shady retreats, whereeven study is pleasant, and idleness delicious. The neighborhood oftheinstitution is not quite a solitude, though the few habitations scarcelyconstitute a village. These consist principally of farm-houses, of ratheran ancient date (for the settlement is much older than the college), andof alittle inn, which even in that secluded spot does not fail of amoderate support. Other dwellings are scattered up and down the valley;but the difficulties of the soil will long avert the evils of a too densepopulation. Thecharacter of the inhabitants does not seem--as there was,perhaps, room to anticipate--to be in any degree influenced by theatmosphere of Harley College. They are a set of rough and hardy yeomen,much inferior, asrespects refinement, to the corresponding classes inmost other parts of our country. This is the more remarkable, as there isscarcely a family in the vicinity that has not provided, for at least oneof its sons, theadvantages of a "liberal education."Having thus described the present state of Harley College, we must proceedto speak of it as it existed about eighty years since, when its foundationwas recent, and its prospectsflattering. At the head of the institution,at this period, was a learned and Orthodox divine, whose fame was in allthe churches. He was the author of several works which evinced mucherudition and depth of research;and the public, perhaps, thought the morehighly of his abilities from a singularity in the purposes to which heapplied them, that added much to the curiosity of his labors, thoughlittle to their usefulness. But, howeverfanciful might be his privatepursuits, Dr. Melmoth, it was universally allowed, was diligent andsuccessful in the arts of instruction. The young men of his chargeprospered beneath his eye, and regarded him with anaffection that wasstrengthened by the little foibles which occasionally excited theirridicule. The president was assisted in the discharge of his duties by twoinferior officers, chosen from the alumni of the college, who,while theyimparted to others the knowledge they had already imbibed, pursued thestudy of divinity under the direction of their principal. Under suchauspices the institution grew and flourished. Having at that time buttworivals in the country (neither of them within a considerable distance), itbecame the general resort of the youth of the Province in which it wassituated. For several years in succession, its students amounted tonearlyfifty,--a number which, relatively to the circumstances of the country,was very considerable.From the exterior of the collegians, an accurate observer might prettysafely judge how long they had been inmates ofthose classic walls. Thebrown cheeks and the rustic dress of some would inform him that they hadbut recently left the plough to labor in a not less toilsome field; thegrave look, and the intermingling of garments of amore classic cut, woulddistinguish those who had begun to acquire the polish of their newresidence; and the air of superiority, the paler cheek, the less robustform, the spectacles of green, and the dress, in general ofthreadbareblack, would designate the highest class, who were understood to haveacquired nearly all the science their Alma Mater could bestow, and to beon the point of assuming their stations in the world. There were,it istrue, exceptions to this general description. A few young men had foundtheir way hither from the distant seaports; and these were the models offashion to their rustic companions, over whom they asserted asuperiorityin exterior accomplishments, which the fresh though unpolished intellectof the sons of the forest denied them in their literary competitions. Athird class, differing widely from both the former, consisted of afewyoung descendants of the aborigines, to whom an impracticable philanthropywas endeavoring to impart the benefits of civilization.If this institution did not offer all the advantages of elder and prouderseminaries, itsdeficiencies were compensated to its students by theinculcation of regular habits, and of a deep and awful sense of religion,which seldom deserted them in their course through life. The mild andgentle rule of Dr.Melmoth, like that of a father over his children, wasmore destructive to vice than a sterner sway; and though youth is neverwithout its follies, they have seldom been more harmless than they werehere. The students,indeed, ignorant of their own bliss, sometimes wishedto hasten the time of their entrance on the business of life; but theyfound, in after-years, that many of their happiest remembrances, many ofthe scenes which theywould with least reluctance live over again,referred to the seat of their early studies. The exceptions to this remarkwere chiefly those whose vices had drawn down, even from that paternalgovernment, a weightyretribution.Dr. Melmoth, at the time when he is to be introduced to the reader, hadborne the matrimonial yoke (and in his case it was no light burden) nearlytwenty years. The blessing of children, however, had beendenied him,--acircumstance which he was accustomed to consider as one of the soresttrials that checkered his pathway; for he was a man of a kind andaffectionate heart, that was continually seeking objects to restitselfupon. He was inclined to believe, also, that a common offspring would haveexerted a meliorating influence on the temper of Mrs. Melmoth, thecharacter of whose domestic government often compelled him to callto mindsuch portions of the wisdom of antiquity as relate to the proper enduranceof the shrewishness of woman. But domestic comforts, as well as comfortsof every other kind, have their drawbacks; and, so long as thebalance ison the side of happiness, a wise man will not murmur. Such was the opinionof Dr. Melmoth; and with a little aid from philosophy, and more fromreligion, he journeyed on contentedly through life. When thestorm wasloud by the parlor hearth, he had always a sure and quiet retreat in hisstudy; and there, in his deep though not always useful labors, he soonforgot whatever of disagreeable nature pertained to his situation.Thissmall and dark apartment was the only portion of the house to which, sinceone firmly repelled invasion, Mrs. Melmoth's omnipotence did not extend.Here (to reverse the words of Queen Elizabeth) there was "butone masterand no mistress"; and that man has little right to complain who possessesso much as one corner in the world where he may be happy or miserable, asbest suits him. In his study, then, the doctor wasaccustomed to spendmost of the hours that were unoccupied by the duties of his station. Theflight of time was here as swift as the wind, and noiseless as thesnow-flake; and it was a sure proof of real happiness thatnight oftencame upon the student before he knew it was midday.Dr. Melmoth was wearing towards age (having lived nearly sixty years),when he was called upon to assume a character to which he had as yet beenastranger. He had possessed in his youth a very dear friend, with whomhis education had associated him, and who in his early manhood had beenhis chief intimate. Circumstances, however, had separated them fornearlythirty years, half of which had been spent by his friend, who was engagedin mercantile pursuits, in a foreign country. The doctor had,nevertheless, retained a warm interest in the welfare of his oldassociate,though the different nature of their thoughts and occupationshad prevented them from corresponding. After a silence of so longcontinuance, therefore, he was surprised by the receipt of a letter fromhis friend,containing a request of a most unexpected nature.Mr. Langton had married rather late in life; and his wedded bliss had beenbut of short continuance. Certain misfortunes in trade, when he was aBenedict of three years'standing, had deprived him of a large portion ofhis property, and compelled him, in order to save the remainder, to leavehis own country for what he hoped would be but a brief residence inanother. But, though he wassuccessful in the immediate objects of hisvoyage, circumstances occurred to lengthen his stay far beyond the periodwhich he had assigned to it. It was difficult so to arrange his extensiveconcerns that they could besafely trusted to the management of others;and, when this was effected, there was another not less powerful obstacleto his return. His affairs, under his own inspection, were so prosperous,and his gains soconsiderable, that, in the words of the old ballad, "Heset his heart to gather gold"; and to this absorbing passion he sacrificedhis domestic happiness. The death of his wife, about four years after hisdeparture,undoubtedly contributed to give him a sort of dread ofreturning, which it required a strong effort to overcome. The welfare ofhis only child he knew would be little affected by this event; for she wasunder the protectionof his sister, of whose tenderness he was wellassured. But, after a few more years, this sister, also, was taken away bydeath; and then the father felt that duty imperatively called upon him toreturn. He realized, on asudden, how much of life he had thrown away inthe acquisition of what is only valuable as it contributes to thehappiness of life, and how short a tune was left him for life's trueenjoyments. Still, however, his mercantilehabits were too deeply seatedto allow him to hazard his present prosperity by any hasty measures; norwas Mr. Langton, though capable of strong affections, naturally liable tomanifest them violently. It was probable,therefore, that many monthsmight yet elapse before he would again tread the shores of his nativecountry.But the distant relative, in whose family, since the death of her aunt,Ellen Langton had remained, had been longat variance with her father, andhad unwillingly assumed the office of her protector. Mr. Langton'srequest, therefore, to Dr. Melmoth, was, that his ancient friend (one ofthe few friends that time had left him) would be asa father to hisdaughter till he could himself relieve him of the charge.The doctor, after perusing the epistle of his friend, lost no time inlaying it before Mrs. Melmoth, though this was, in truth, one of the veryfewoccasions on which he had determined that his will should be absolutelaw. The lady was quick to perceive the firmness of his purpose, and wouldnot (even had she been particularly averse to the proposed measure)hazardher usual authority by a fruitless opposition. But, by long disuse, shehad lost the power of consenting graciously to any wish of her husband's."I see your heart is set upon this matter," she observed; "and, intruth,I fear we cannot decently refuse Mr. Langton's request. I see little goodof such a friend, doctor, who never lets one know he is alive till he hasa favor to ask.""Nay; but I have received much good at his hand,"replied Dr. Melmoth;"and, if he asked more of me, it should be done with a willing heart. Iremember in my youth, when my worldly goods were few and ill managed (Iwas a bachelor, then, dearest Sarah, with none tolook after myhousehold), how many times I have been beholden to him. And see--in hisletter he speaks of presents, of the produce of the country, which he hassent both to you and me.""If the girl were country-bred,"continued the lady, "we might give herhouse-room, and no harm done. Nay, she might even be a help to me; forEsther, our maid-servant, leaves us at the mouth's end. But I warrant sheknows as little of householdmatters as you do yourself, doctor.""My friend's sister was well grounded in the _re familiari_" answeredher husband; "and doubtless she hath imparted somewhat of her skill tothis damsel. Besides, the child is oftender years, and will profit muchby your instruction and mine.""The child is eighteen years of age, doctor," observed Mrs. Melmoth, "andshe has cause to be thankful that she will have better instruction thanyours."Thiswas a proposition that Dr. Melmoth did not choose to dispute; thoughhe perhaps thought that his long and successful experience in theeducation of the other sex might make him an able coadjutor to his wife inthe careof Ellen Langton. He determined to journey in person to theseaport where his young charge resided, leaving the concerns of HarleyCollege to the direction of the two tutors. Mrs. Melmoth, who, indeed,anticipated withpleasure the arrival of a new subject to her authority,threw no difficulties in the way of his intention. To do her justice, herpreparations for his journey, and the minute instructions with which shefavored him, were suchas only a woman's true affection could havesuggested. The traveller met with no incidents important to this tale;and, after an absence of about a fortnight, he and Ellen alighted fromtheir steeds (for on horseback hadthe journey been performed) in safetyat his own door.If pen could give an adequate idea of Ellen Langton's loveliness, it wouldachieve what pencil (the pencils, at least, of the colonial artists whoattempted it) nevercould; for, though the dark eyes might be painted, thepure and pleasant thoughts that peeped through them could only be seen andfelt. But descriptions of beauty are never satisfactory. It must,therefore, be left to theimagination of the reader to conceive ofsomething not more than mortal, nor, indeed, quite the perfection ofmortality, but charming men the more, because they felt, that, lovely asshe was, she was of like nature tothemselves.From the time that Ellen entered Dr. Melmoth's habitation, the sunny daysseemed brighter and the cloudy ones less gloomy, than he had ever beforeknown them. He naturally delighted in children; andEllen, though heryears approached to womanhood, had yet much of the gayety and simplehappiness, because the innocence, of a child. She consequently became thevery blessing of his life,--the rich recreation that hepromised himselffor hours of literary toil. On one occasion, indeed, he even made her hiscompanion in the sacred retreat of his study, with the purpose of enteringupon a course of instruction in the learned languages.This measure,however, he found inexpedient to repeat; for Ellen, having discovered anold romance among his heavy folios, contrived, by the charm of her sweetvoice, to engage his attention therein till all moreimportant concernswere forgotten.With Mrs. Melmoth, Ellen was not, of course, so great a favorite as withher husband; for women cannot so readily as men, bestow upon the offspringof others those affections thatnature intended for their own; and thedoctor's extraordinary partiality was anything rather than a pledge of hiswife's. But Ellen differed so far from the idea she had previously formedof her, as a daughter of one of theprincipal merchants, who were then, asnow, like nobles in the land, that the stock of dislike which Mrs. Melmothhad provided was found to be totally inapplicable. The young strangerstrove so hard, too (and undoubtedlyit was a pleasant labor), to win herlove, that she was successful to a degree of which the lady herself wasnot, perhaps, aware. It was soon seen that her education had not beenneglected in those points which Mrs.Melmoth deemed most important. Thenicer departments of cookery, after sufficient proof of her skill, werecommitted to her care; and the doctor's table was now covered withdelicacies, simple indeed, but as temptingon account of their intrinsicexcellence as of the small white hands that made them. By such arts asthese,--which in her were no arts, but the dictates of an affectionatedisposition,--by making herself useful where it waspossible, andagreeable on all occasions, Ellen gained the love of everyone within thesphere of her influence.But the maiden's conquests were not confined to the members of Dr.Melmoth's family. She had numerousadmirers among those whose situationcompelled them to stand afar off, and gaze upon her loveliness, as if shewere a star, whose brightness they saw, but whose warmth they could notfeel. These were the young menof Harley College, whose chiefopportunities of beholding Ellen were upon the Sabbaths, when sheworshipped with them in the little chapel, which served the purposes of achurch to all the families of the vicinity. There


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                         WILD THINGS: DIAMONDS IN THE ROUGH                                     Written by                              Andy Hurst &Ross Helford                                                            INT. MUSEUM - DAY                    A perfect rainbow is trapped inside two flawlessDIAMONDS,          glinting in the morning sun.                    Tounted on crushed velvet, the identical diamonds are on a glass          covered pedal stool in the middle of a vast, marble MUSEUMHALL.                    The stunning beauty of the stones is matched only by the          breathtaking beauty of the young woman who's admiring them. MARIE          CLIFFORD's creamy seventeen year old skin isdappled in the          cornucopia of colors emanating from the diamonds...                    She reaches out tentatively towards the glass case. Not to touch          the diamonds, but to run her fingers over apicture that's mounted          in the case below the priceless jewels. It's of a MOTHER cradling          her BABY DAUGHTER...                                        MARIE                    Today's the day,Mom...                                        CURATOR (O.S.)                    You here again, Marie?                    Marie spins round, sees the bespectacled CURATOR, 60's, standing          behindher.                                        MARIE                    Just leaving.                    Marie carefully adjusts the sign atop the glass case...                    'THE MOTHER DAUGHTERDIAMONDS...'                    EXT. MUSEUM - DAY                    Marie fires up her powerful BMW, parked right outside the austere          Museum building. The powerful stereo blasts,sending the birds          fluttering skywards...                    CREDITS appear over...                    ARIEL FOOTAGE of a narrow highway, Marie's BMW streaking through          the endless tract ofFlorida wetlands. In the water, GATORS, warm          themselves in the early morning sun...                     MOVING over the vast tracts of swampland, flocks of tropical BIRDS          stretch their majesticwings, locals speed across the stagnant          waters in their deafening AIRBOATS...                     Through thick trees and foliage to trailer homes and tract housing          and into the town of Blue Bay, wherethe nip/tucked denizens sip          three martini lunches and tee off at the local countryclub.                                                                       03/22/2004   2.                                        Marie steers her BMW into the showroom-like parking lot ofBlue          Bay High School.                    INT. MARIE'S BMW - MORNING                    Marie guides her powerful car towards her parking spot,when...                    SCCCREEEECCCHHHH!                    She SLAMS on the brakes as a figure darts in front of her car.          Almost gives her a heart attack, throwing her forward,flailing          arms crashing into the stereo, then snapped back by her seatbelt.                    She sits stock still for a second, then looks up, out of her          windshield at the young woman scouring at her,only inches from          the front bumper of the BMW.                    The sudden jolt has changed the radio station. A newscaster          rambles on...                                        RADIONEWSCASTER (V.O.)                    ... operation, aimed at finally capturing                    the Black Widow suspect after a six month                    trail of embezzlement and fraud, once                    again failed tosnare its subject.                    ELENA SANDOVAL, 17, stands defiantly in front of the BMW, her          don't-fuck-with-me stare in direct contrast with hercome-fuck-me          clothes.                                           RADIO NEWSCASTER (V.O.)                    Blue Bay Police Detective Michael                    Morrison was able to recoverover                    $400,000 in stolen money, but the                    suspect, described as Female, between                    eighteen and thirty, remains at large...                    Marie reaches out with a tremblinghand, turns off the stereo,          then leans out of the car window.                                        MARIE                    I'm... so... sorry...                    Elena smileswryly.                                        ELENA                    You will be.                    And she meansit...                                                                    03/22/2004   3.                                        INT. BLUE BAY HIGH AUDITORIUM -MORNING                    The auditorium is packed with the Blue Bay High student body. The          natural order is clear, the pastel flock at the front, the meat          headed jocks in the center, and therejects at the back.                    Marie is amongst her sweater monkey friends, but she's still          shocked by what happened out in the parkinglot...                                        JENNY                        (handing over a present)                    Happy birthday, babe. They ain't                    diamonds, but you're just gonna haveto                    wait for those...                    Marie tentatively opens the gift, sees a pair of OPALEARRINGS.                                        MARIE                        (unconvincing)                    Thank you. Thank you so much...                                        JENNY                    Areyou OK, hon?                    Marie looks back, to the far reaches of the auditorium where the          freaks and geeks crowd round Elena, worshipping her like the          Goddess sheis...                                        MARIE                    I...yeah...I'll be fine...It's                    just...that new girl...I almost hit her                    in the parkinglot...                                        JENNY                    You mean the towel girl, the one who                    transferred in? Jesus, she's trouble. You                    know the only reason she'sslinging                    towels is 'cos it's court ordered...                    Marie and Elena make brief, electric eye contact, across the sea          of hormonally challenged students as Principal LIONEL MOSSTER,his          ill-fitting sports jacket coffee-stained, steps onstage.                                        MOSSTER                    We're here today to address a growing                    epidemic that affects all ofyou.                    He pauses, waits for the student body to quiet down...                                        MOSSTER                    National studies report sexual activity                    amongstudents at an all-time high.                                                                    03/22/2004   4.                                        The students all cheer,naturally.                                        MOSSTER                    We'll see who's cheering when you've got                    an unwanted pregnancy on your hands, or                    get slapped with apaternity suit...Or                    arrested for date rape. But don't take my                    word for it...                    He motions behind him to KRISTEN RICHARDS, early 30's, a natural          beauty who's doingher best to hide behind a bland gray suit and          glasses, and CHAD BORMAN, late 20s, devilishly handsome...                                        PRINCIPAL MOSSTER                    Miss Richards and Dr.Borman are here to                    tell you about the pitfalls first hand...                    Kristen steps up to the lectern.                                        KRISTEN                    Good morning, myname is Kristen                    Richards. I'm an officer for the Miami                    juvenile parole board, as some of you                    already know...                    Quick glance at Elena who rolls hereyes...                                        KRISTEN                    But that's not what brings me here today.                    When I heard about Principal Mosster's                    sex education program I thoughtI'd                    volunteer my own personal story, in hopes                    that you might learn from the mistakes I                    made. Back in High school all I wanted to                    do was get drunk, stoned andlaid...                    The students roar their approval.                                        KRISTEN                    By my junior year, my life was a blur of                    cheap beer, anonymous sex,partying every                    night of the week...                    Elena covers her mouth, as if to cough...                                        ELENA                        (through fakecoughs)                    ...whore...                    Kristen ignores theslur.                                                                      03/22/2004   5.                                                            KRISTEN                    And then, one night atsome pathetic frat                    party, someone slipped a roofie in my                    drink...and raped me.                    This quiets theauditorium.                                        KRISTEN                    There isn't a day goes by my skin doesn't                    crawl when I think of the violation and                    humiliation I endured. I canpromise you                    that if you make the same kind of wrong-                    headed choices I did, you'll be seeing                    Dr. Borman...                    Chad steps to thepodium.                                        CHAD                    Thank you, Miss Richards. My name's Dr.                    Chad Borman. I run the forensics lab at                    the police department, where mywork has                    helped convict hundreds of sex offenders.                    Most teens like Ms. Richards never get                    their lives together. The physical scars                    may go away, but the emotionaldamage                    stays forever.                    While Chad drones on, MUDDY, a Gremlin-eyed drooler, sitting in          front of Elena, looks back at her shapely legs as she puts them up          on the back of


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<TITLE>CINEMA PARADISO by Giuseppe Tornatore</TITLE><META http-equiv=Content-Type content="text/html;charset=windows-1252"><META content="MSHTML 6.00.2800.1141" name=GENERATOR>
  CINEMA PARADISO        by        Giuseppe Tornatore        FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY        Shooting Script     1  GIANCALDO. SALVATORE'S MOTHER'S HOUSE. EXT/INT. DAY The October sun slashes through the gray clouds, cuts across the shadow towards the sea, along the coast where the new suburbs of the city of Giancaldo have been built up.  Bright light streams through thewindows, glancing off the white walls in an almost blinding reflection. MARIA, a woman a little over sixty, is trying to find somebody on the phone.  MARIA   ...Salvatore, that's right, Salvatore. Di VitaSalvatore ...But, miss, what do you mean you don't know him?!...I...Yes... (She gives a nervous sigh. She has dialed her way through endless numbers but still hasn't managed to speak to Mr. Di Vita. She finally heavesa sigh of relief.) ...That's right, good for you! Oh!...yes...And I'm his mother. I'm calling from Sicily. Been trying all day...Ah, he's not there...But would you be so kind as to give me...?...Yes... (She nods at anotherwoman around forty sitting nearby: it is LIA, her daughter, who jots down the numbers her mother dictates:) ...Six, five, six, two, two, oh, six...Thanks ever so much...Goodbye. Goodbye.  She hangs up,takes the number LIA has jotted down, determined to have still another try. LIA speaks to her as if she were a baby, to be more convincing.  LIA   Look, Ma...It's useless calling him. He'll be terriblybusy, God knows where he is. Besides he might not even remember. Do as I say, forget it...He hasn't been here for thirty years. You know how he is.   MARIA pauses to think it over. The decision she has tomake is important. Then, stubbornly.  MARIA   He'll remember! He'll remember! (She puts on her glasses and starts dialing the number.) ...I'm positive. I know him better than you do. If he were tofind out we hadn't told him, he'd be angry. I know. (She takes off her glasses.) ...Hello? Good morning. Could I please speak to Mr. Salvatore Di Vita. I'm his mother...  2  ROME. STREETS. EXT/INT.NIGHT  It's late, but there is still traffic on the streets heading downtown. Inside a high-powered car, a man  around fifty is driving. It is SALVATORE Dl VITA. Elegant, just growing gray, a handsome facecreased by deep wrinkles. His weary expression hides the determined, sell-assured manner of the successful self-made man. He must be a heavy smoker judging by the way he draws the last puffs on his cigarette. He stops at a red light. He stubs out the cigarette and rolls down the window, as a little Fiat Uno pulls up alongside. A rock tune plays full blast on the radio. SALVATORE turns instinctively to have a look at theman at the wheel  a BOY with a brush cut standing straight in the latest fashion. He studies the Boy's expression with almost exaggerated attention, but devoid of curiosity, coldly. The GIRL sitting beside him, lots ofcurly hair, overripe red lips, returns SALVATORE'5 look, provocatively. The BOY notices, turns to SALVATORE in a surly voice:  BOY   Hey! What the fuck you looking at!?  Green light. TheFiat Uno shoots off, leaving a trail of music in its wake.  3  ROME. SALVATORE S APARTMENT. INT. NIGHT   The apartment is luxurious, tastefully furnished. There is no one waiting forSALVATORE. Through the picture window on the terrace, the city can be seen slumbering in the night. SALVATORE gets undressed on his way to the bedroom. He moves quietly, as if to make no noise. He doesn't eventurn on the light, finishes getting undressed in the pale blue glow coming from the picture window. A rustling sound, a movement on the bed, the voice of a woman waking up.   CLARA  Salvatore...But what time is it?   She turns on the bedside light. It is CLARA, a young woman around thirty. SALVATORE climbs in beside her under the covers, kisses her sweetly, then in a whisper. SALVATORE   It's late, Clara. Sorry, but I wasn't able to let you know I wouldn't be corning... (He fondles her, but he is tired, feels like sleeping.) Go to sleep now. Sleep.  He turns over on theother side. CLARA shuts her eyes, is about to drop off, but whispers.  CLARA   Your mother phoned. She took me for somebody else...  SALVATORE   (Surprised) And what'd youtell her?  CLARA   I played dumb, so as not to disappoint her. We had a nice little talk. She says you never go see her, and when she wants to see you she has to come to Rome...Is it true? SALVATORE doesn't answer. God only knows how often he's heard that question before.  SALVATORE   She phoned just to say that?   She reaches out to switch of the light, buries her headinto the pillow.  CLARA   She said a certain Alfredo had died. And the funeral's taking place tomorrow afternoon... (A strange look suddenly comes into SALVATORE'S eyes. The idea of going to sleephas clearly left him. It's a piece of news he didn't expect. That's taken him off-guard. CLARA would like to carry on the conversation, but sleepiness makes it almost impossible. An she can manage is one last question ina faint little voice:) Who is it? A relative of yours?  SALVATORE   No. Sleep. Go to sleep.  She falls asleep in the dead silence of the night. SALVATORE is seized by a sort of chill a deep,troubled feeling. He gazes through the window al the city, with its shimmering lights still moving in the darkness, suddenly shrouded in a heavy curtain of rain. But he gazes off, beyond the row of houses, beyond thedark sky; the shadow of a wind chime plays across his face summoning up endless memories, drawing forth from the infinite depths of oblivion a past that he thought had vanished, been wiped out, and instead nowre-emerges, comes back to life, takes on light, superimposing itself on the mellow middle-aged features of his face, in the shadow of the city shaken by the storm, until another image is formed, an ancient, remoteimage...  4  GIANCALDO. CHURCH AND SACRISTY. INT. MORNING  An image from over forty years before. In the baroque church of Giancaldo. SALVATORE is nine years old. Dressed as analtar boy, he is kneeling by the altar with a little silver bell in his hands. The congregation is also kneeling. The PRIEST is consecrating the Host. Little SALVATORE has just got out of bed, is still half-asleep, yawns anddoesn't notice that the PRIEST is standing there with the Host in the air glaring at him, as if trying to tell him something.  PRIEST   Pss! Pssst!  SALVATORE finishes yawning and opening hiseyes meets the withering look of the PRIEST. He gets the message at once and rings the bell. Now the PRIEST can carry on, lifts the chalice and the bell is heard again.  Cut to:  The service is over.The PRIEST is in the sacristy removing his vestments. And SALVATORE is also there, removing his altar-boy tunic.  PRIEST   But how can I make you understand? Without the bell I just can't go on!Always half asleep, you are! What do you do at night anyway? Eat instead of sleep?  SALVATORE   Father, at my house we don't even eat at noon. That's why I'm always sleepy. That's what the vetsays.  The PRIEST has finished disrobing. He takes the bell SALVATORE was holding during the service and turns to leave.  PRIEST   All right, Toto, get moving, I've got things to do. Sayhello to your mother.  SALVATORE   Can I...  PRIEST   (Interrupting him) And don't ask if you can come... Because you can't!! Shoo, shoo, off with you!!  SALVATOREgives a shrug and leaves. The PRIEST goes down a corridor, opens a door, another corridor, and finally a door leading to an outside courtyard. He cuts across it and disappears into another door. 5  CINEMA PARADISO AND PROJECTION BOOTH. INT. MORNING  The PRIEST enters a movie house. Not very big  200 seats on the main floor and another seventy in the balcony. Along the walls, postersof films to be shown are stuck up between the light fixtures. In one corner, a statue of the Virgin Mary with flowers. The CLEANING LADY has finished work and is leaving. Up in the balcony, over the last row of seats,are the holes of the projection booth. The middle hole is camouflaged by the huge head of a roaring lion, all in plaster, and the lens of the projector can be glimpsed between its sharp teeth. there are two smaller holes,through which the figure of a man can be made out, appearing and disappearing...It is ALFREDO, the projectionist. He is around forty, skinny and bony with a tough peasant face. He has finished loading the projectorand is checking the carbons in the arc lamp. Then he removes the glass from one of the holes and looks down into the theatre, at the PRIEST who waves his hand.  PRIEST   OK, Alfredo, you canstart!!  He sits down an by himself in the middle of the empty theatre. Up in the booth, ALFREDO lights the arc lamp and sets the projector going.  Down in the theatre, the light goes off and out ofthe lion's mouth streams the glowing ray aimed al the screen. String music, sweet and ominous, spreads through the theatre. On the screen appear the credit titles of an American film of the 1940s. The PRIEST screwsup his face and holds the bell in his right hand resting on the arm of his seat.  At the back of the theatre, behind the last row, a curtain moves, opens a crack and SALVATORE'S gaunt little face appears. He hasmanaged to sneak in somehow and stands there without a word, spellbound, watching the 'movie' on the glowing screen. The credit titles have long come and gone. The story is at a turning-point.   Up above,in the hole of the booth next to the lion, ALFREDO watches the film, but his eyes keep looking down at the PRIEST, who is now drumming the bell with his fingers. On the screen, the male and female lead, twoHollywood stars, are in close-up; the dialogue is passionate, romantic. SALVATORE, carried away by those faces, by the way they talk, by the beauty of the woman, slowly slips down the length of the curtain until he issitting on the floor, his eyes glued to the screen.   The love scene reaches a climax, the music crescendos, and the love-struck couple finally fall into each other's arms and kiss. Instinctively, the PRIEST raisesthe bell into the air, as in some age-old ceremony, and gives it a loud ring...  Up in the booth ALFREDO hears the bell; it's the signal he's been waiting for. He takes a slip of paper from a pad prepared for thatpurpose and sticks it into the loops of the film containing that specific scene as it winds on to the reel. The projection continues...  ...And also the kiss of the two actors. The PRIEST'S nervous look lingers onthose black-and-white lips meeting and now pulling apart for one last declaration of love before separating. SALVATORE is wide-eyed, he's probably never seen a man and woman kiss before, it's a vision that for him


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Last Chronicle of Barset, by AnthonyTrollopeThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it awayorre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: The Last Chronicle of BarsetAuthor: Anthony TrollopeRelease Date: January, 2002  [eBook#3045][Most recently updated: December 1, 2010]Language: English***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST CHRONICLE OF BARSET***E-text prepared by Kenneth David Cooperand revised byJoseph E. Loewenstein, M.D.Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file      which includes the 64 illustrations by George Housman Thomas      from the First Edition (Smith, Elder and Co.,1867).      See 3045-h.htm or 3045-h.zip:      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/3045/3045-h/3045-h.htm)      or      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/3045/3045-h.zip)THE LAST CHRONICLE OF BARSETbyANTHONYTROLLOPEFirst published in monthly installments from December 1, 1866, toJuly 6, 1867, and in book form in 1867[Illustration: Mr. Crawley before the Magistrates. (Frontispiece)]CONTENTS         I. How Did He GetIt?        II. By Heavens He Had Better Not!       III. The Archdeacon's Threat        IV. The Clergyman's House at Hogglestock         V. What the World Thought About It        VI. Grace Crawley       VII. Miss Prettyman'sPrivate Room      VIII. Mr. Crawley Is Taken to Silverbridge        IX. Grace Crawley Goes to Allington         X. Dinner at Framley Court        XI. The Bishop Sends His Inhibition       XII. Mr. Crawley Seeks forSympathy      XIII. The Bishop's Angel       XIV. Major Grantly Consults a Friend        XV. Up in London       XVI. Down at Allington      XVII. Mr. Crawley Is Summoned to Barchester     XVIII. The Bishop of Barchester IsCrushed       XIX. Where Did It Come From?        XX. What Mr. Walker Thought About It       XXI. Mr. Robarts on His Embassy      XXII. Major Grantly at Home     XXIII. Miss Lily Dale's Resolution      XXIV. Mrs. DobbsBroughton's Dinner-party       XXV. Miss Madalina Demolines      XXVI. The Picture     XXVII. A Hero at Home    XXVIII. Showing How Major Grantly Took a Walk      XXIX. Miss Lily Dale's Logic       XXX. Showing WhatMajor Grantly Did After His Walk      XXXI. Showing How Major Grantly Returned to Guestwick     XXXII. Mr. Toogood    XXXIII. The Plumstead Foxes     XXXIV. Mrs. Proudie Sends for Her Lawyer      XXXV. Lily DaleWrites Two Words in Her Book     XXXVI. Grace Crawley Returns Home    XXXVII. Hook Court   XXXVIII. Jael     XXXIX. A New Flirtation        XL. Mr. Toogood's Ideas About Society       XLI. Grace Crawley atHome      XLII. Mr. Toogood Travels Professionally     XLIII. Mr. Crosbie Goes into the City      XLIV. "I Suppose I Must Let You Have It"       XLV. Lily Dale Goes to London      XLVI. The Bayswater Romance     XLVII. Dr.Tempest at the Palace    XLVIII. The Softness of Sir Raffle Buffle      XLIX. Near the Close         L. Lady Lufton's Proposition        LI. Mrs. Dobbs Broughton Piles Her Fagots       LII. Why Don't You Have an "It" forYourself?      LIII. Rotten Row       LIV. The Clerical Commission        LV. Framley Parsonage       LVI. The Archdeacon Goes to Framley      LVII. A Double Pledge     LVIII. The Cross-grainedness of Men       LIX. A LadyPresents Her Compliments to Miss L. D.        LX. The End of Jael and Sisera       LXI. "It's Dogged as Does It"      LXII. Mr. Crawley's Letter to the Dean     LXIII. Two Visitors to Hogglestock      LXIV. The Tragedy inHook Court       LXV. Miss Van Siever Makes Her Choice      LXVI. Requiescat in Pace     LXVII. In Memoriam    LXVIII. The Obstinacy of Mr. Crawley      LXIX. Mr. Crawley's Last Appearance in His Own Pulpit       LXX.Mrs. Arabin Is Caught      LXXI. Mr. Toogood at Silverbridge     LXXII. Mr. Toogood at "The Dragon of Wantly"    LXXIII. There Is Comfort at Plumstead     LXXIV. The Crawleys Are Informed      LXXV. Madalina's Heart IsBleeding     LXXVI. I Think He Is Light of Heart    LXXVII. The Shattered Tree   LXXVIII. The Arabins Return to Barchester     LXXIX. Mr. Crawley Speaks of His Coat      LXXX. Miss Demolines Desires to Become aFinger-post     LXXXI. Barchester Cloisters    LXXXII. The Last Scene at Hogglestock   LXXXIII. Mr. Crawley Is Conquered    LXXXIV. ConclusionTITLED ILLUSTRATIONS   Mr. Crawley before theMagistrates.           Frontispiece   Mr. and Mrs. Crawley.                         Chapter I   "I love you as though you were my own,"      said the Schoolmistress.                   Chapter VI   "A convicted thief," repeated Mrs.Proudie.   Chapter XI   "Speak out, Dan."                             Chapter XII   Grace Crawley is introduced to Squire Dale.   Chapter XVI   Farmer Mangle and Mr. Crawley.                Chapter XVII   "She's more like Eleanorthan any one else."  Chapter XXII   "I am very glad to have the opportunity      of shaking hands with you."                Chapter XXIV   "What do you think of it, Mrs. Broughton?"    Chapter XXVI   Squire Dale and MajorGrantly.                Chapter XXVIII   "Never mind Mr. Henry."                       Chapter XXXIII   Lily wishes that they might swear      to be Brother and Sister.                  Chapter XXXV   She read thebeginning--"Dearest Grace."      Chapter XXXVI   "Mamma, I've got something to tell you."      Chapter XLI   Mr. Toogood and the old Waiter.               Chapter XLII   They pronounced her to be very much      like aLady.                               Chapter XLV   "As right as a trivet, Uncle."                Chapter XLVIII   Posy and her Grandpapa.                       Chapter XLIX   Mrs. Dobbs Broughton piles her Fagots.        ChapterLI   "Because of Papa's disgrace."                 Chapter LV   "But it will never pass away," said Grace.    Chapter LVII   "Honour thy Father,--that thy days      may be long in the Land."                  Chapter LVIII   "It'sdogged as does it."                     Chapter LXI   Mrs. Proudie's Emissary.                      Chapter LXIII   "You do not know what starving is, my dear."  Chapter LXV   "They will come to hear a ruined man      declare hisown ruin."                     Chapter LXIX   "No sale after all?"                          Chapter LXXI   "These are the young Hogglestockians,      are they?"                                 Chapter LXXIV   The lastDenial.                              Chapter LXXVII   "What is it that I behold?"                   Chapter LXXX   "Peradventure he signifies his Consent."      Chapter LXXXIICHAPTER I.HOW DID HE GET IT?[Illustration]"I can neverbring myself to believe it, John," said Mary Walker,the pretty daughter of Mr. George Walker, attorney of Silverbridge.Walker and Winthrop was the name of the firm, and they wererespectable people, who did all thesolicitors' business that hadto be done in that part of Barsetshire on behalf of the Crown, wereemployed on the local business of the Duke of Omnium who is great inthose parts, and altogether held their heads up high,as provinciallawyers often do. They,--the Walkers,--lived in a great brickhouse in the middle of the town, gave dinners, to which the countygentlemen not unfrequently condescended to come, and in a mild wayled thefashion in Silverbridge. "I can never bring myself to believeit, John," said Miss Walker."You'll have to bring yourself to believe it," said John, withouttaking his eyes from his book."A clergyman,--and such a clergymantoo!""I don't see that that has anything to do with it." And as he nowspoke, John did take his eyes off his book. "Why should not aclergyman turn thief as well as anybody else? You girls always seemto forget thatclergymen are only men after all.""Their conduct is likely to be better than that of other men, Ithink.""I deny it utterly," said John Walker. "I'll undertake to say thatat this moment there are more clergymen in debt inBarsetshire thanthere are either lawyers or doctors. This man has always been indebt. Since he has been in the county I don't think he has ever beenable to show his face in the High Street of Silverbridge.""John, that issaying more than you have a right to say," said Mrs.Walker."Why, mother, this very cheque was given to a butcher who hadthreatened a few days before to post bills all about the county,giving an account of the debtthat was due to him, if the money wasnot paid at once.""More shame for Mr. Fletcher," said Mary. "He has made a fortune asbutcher in Silverbridge.""What has that to do with it? Of course a man likes to havehismoney. He had written three times to the bishop, and he had senta man over to Hogglestock to get his little bill settled six daysrunning. You see he got it at last. Of course, a tradesman must lookfor hismoney.""Mamma, do you think that Mr. Crawley stole the cheque?" Mary, as sheasked the question, came and stood over her mother, looking at herwith anxious eyes."I would rather give no opinion, my dear.""But youmust think something when everybody is talking about it,mamma.""Of course my mother thinks he did," said John, going back to hisbook. "It is impossible that she should think otherwise.""That is not fair, John," saidMrs. Walker; "and I won't have youfabricate thoughts for me, or put the expression of them into mymouth. The whole affair is very painful, and as your father isengaged in the inquiry, I think that the less said about thematterin this house the better. I am sure that that would be your father'sfeeling.""Of course I should say nothing about it before him," said Mary. "Iknow that papa does not wish to have it talked about. But how is onetohelp thinking about such a thing? It would be so terrible for allof us who belong to the Church.""I do not see that at all," said John. "Mr. Crawley is not more thanany other man just because he's a clergyman. I hate allthat kind ofclap-trap. There are a lot of people here in Silverbridge who thinkthe matter shouldn't be followed up, just because the man is in aposition which makes the crime more criminal in him than it would beinanother.""But I feel sure that Mr. Crawley has committed no crime at all,"said Mary."My dear," said Mrs. Walker, "I have just said that I would ratheryou would not talk about it. Papa will be in directly.""I won't,mamma;--only--""Only! yes; just only!" said John. "She'd go on till dinner if anyone would stay to hear her.""You've said twice as much as I have, John." But John had left theroom before his sister's last words couldreach him."You know, mamma, it is quite impossible not to help thinking of it,"said Mary."I dare say it is, my dear.""And when one knows the people it does make it so dreadful.""But do you know them? I never spoketo Mr. Crawley in my life, andI do not think I ever saw her.""I knew Grace very well,--when she used to come first to MissPrettyman's school.""Poor girl. I pity her.""Pity her! Pity is no word for it, mamma. My heartbleeds for them.And yet I do not believe for a moment that he stole the cheque. Howcan it be possible? For though he may have been in debt because theyhave been so very, very poor; yet we all know that he hasbeen anexcellent clergyman. When the Robartses were dining here last, Iheard Mrs. Robarts say that for piety and devotion to his duties shehad hardly ever seen any one equal to him. And the Robartses knowmore ofthem than anybody.""They say that the dean is his great friend.""What a pity it is that the Arabins should be away just now when heis in such trouble." And in this way the mother and daughter wenton discussing thequestion of the clergyman's guilt in spite of Mrs.Walker's previously expressed desire that nothing more might be saidabout it. But Mrs. Walker, like many other mothers, was apt to bemore free in converse with herdaughter than she was with her son.While they were thus talking the father came in from his office, andthen the subject was dropped. He was a man between fifty and sixtyyears of age, with grey hair, rather short, andsomewhat corpulent,but still gifted with that amount of personal comeliness whichcomfortable position and the respect of others will generally seem togive. A man rarely carries himself meanly, whom the world holdshighin esteem."I am very tired, my dear," said Mr. Walker."You look tired. Come and sit down for a few minutes before youdress. Mary, get your father's slippers." Mary instantly ran to thedoor."Thanks, my darling,"said the father. And then he whispered to hiswife, as soon as Mary was out of hearing, "I fear that unfortunateman is guilty. I fear he is! I fear he is!""Oh, heavens! what will become of them?""What indeed? She hasbeen with me to-day.""Has she? And what could you say to her?""I told her at first that I could not see her, and begged her not tospeak to me about it. I tried to make her understand that she shouldgo to some oneelse. But it was of no use.""And how did it end?""I asked her to go in to you, but she declined. She said you could donothing for her.""And does she think her husband guilty?""No, indeed. She think him guilty! Nothingon earth,--or from heaveneither, as I take it, would make her suppose it to be possible. Shecame to me simply to tell me how good he was.""I love her for that," said Mrs. Walker."So did I. But what is the good of lovingher? Thank you, dearest.I'll get your slippers for you some day, perhaps."The whole county was astir in this matter of this alleged guilt ofthe Reverend Josiah Crawley,--the whole county, almost as keenly asthe familyof Mr. Walker, of Silverbridge. The crime laid to hischarge was the theft of a cheque for twenty pounds, which he was saidto have stolen out of a pocket-book left or dropped in his house, andto have passed as moneyinto the hands of one Fletcher, a butcherof Silverbridge, to whom he was indebted. Mr. Crawley was in thosedays the perpetual curate of Hogglestock, a parish in the northernextremity of East Barsetshire; a man knownby all who knew anythingof him to be very poor,--an unhappy, moody, disappointed man, uponwhom the troubles of the world always seemed to come with a doubleweight. But he had ever been respected as aclergyman, since hisold friend Mr. Arabin, the dean of Barchester, had given him thesmall incumbency which he now held. Though moody, unhappy, anddisappointed, he was a hard-working, conscientious pastoramongthe poor people with whom his lot was cast; for in the parish ofHogglestock there resided only a few farmers higher in degree thanfield labourers, brickmakers, and such like. Mr. Crawley had nowpassed some tenyears of his life at Hogglestock; and during thoseyears he had worked very hard to do his duty, struggling to teach thepeople around him perhaps too much of the mystery, but something alsoof the comfort, of religion.That he had become popular in his parishcannot be said of him. He was not a man to make himself popular inany position. I have said that he was moody and disappointed. He waseven worse than this; he was morose,sometimes almost to insanity.There had been days in which even his wife had found it impossibleto deal with him otherwise than as with an acknowledged lunatic. Andthis was known among the farmers, who talkedabout their clergymanamong themselves as though he were a madman. But among the very poor,among the brickmakers of Hoggle End,--a lawless, drunken, terriblyrough lot of humanity,--he was held in high respect;for they knewthat he lived hardly, as they lived; that he worked hard, as theyworked; and that the outside world was hard to him, as it was tothem; and there had been an apparent sincerity of godliness about theman,and a manifest struggle to do his duty in spite of the world'sill-usage, which had won its way even with the rough; so that Mr.Crawley's name had stood high with many in his parish, in spite ofthe unfortunate peculiarityof his disposition. This was the man whowas now accused of stealing a cheque for twenty pounds.But before the circumstances of the alleged theft are stated, a wordor two must be said as to Mr. Crawley's family. It isdeclared that agood wife is a crown to her husband, but Mrs. Crawley had been muchmore than a crown to him. As had regarded all the inner life of theman,--all that portion of his life which had not been passed inthepulpit or in pastoral teaching,--she had been crown, throne, andsceptre all in one. That she had endured with him and on his behalfthe miseries of poverty, and the troubles of a life which had knownno smiles, isperhaps not to be alleged as much to her honour.She had joined herself to him for better or worse, and it was hermanifest duty to bear such things; wives always have to bear them,knowing when they marry that theymust take their chance. Mr. Crawleymight have been a bishop, and Mrs. Crawley, when she married him,perhaps thought it probable that such would be his fortune. Insteadof that he was now, just as he wasapproaching his fiftieth year, aperpetual curate, with an income of one hundred and thirty poundsper annum,--and a family. That had been Mrs. Crawley's luck in life,and of course she bore it. But she had also donemuch more thanthis. She had striven hard to be contented, or, rather, to appearto be contented, when he had been most wretched and most moody.She had struggled to conceal from him her own conviction as tohishalf-insanity, treating him at the same time with the respect dueto an honoured father of a family, and with the careful measuredindulgence fit for a sick and wayward child. In all the terribletroubles of their life hercourage had been higher than his. Themetal of which she was made had been tempered to a steel which wasvery rare and fine, but the rareness and fineness of which he hadfailed to appreciate. He had often told herthat she was withoutpride, because she had stooped to receive from others, on his behalfand on behalf of her children, things which were very needful, butwhich she could not buy. He had told her that she was abeggar, andthat it was better to starve than to beg. She had borne the rebukewithout a word in reply, and had then begged again for him, and hadendured the starvation herself. Nothing in their poverty had, foryearspast, been a shame to her; but every accident of their povertywas still, and ever had been, a living disgrace to him.[Illustration: Mr. and Mrs. Crawley.]They had had many children, and three were still alive. Oftheeldest, Grace Crawley, we shall hear much in the coming story. Shewas at this time nineteen years old, and there were those who saidthat, in spite of her poverty, her shabby outward apparel, and acertain thin,unfledged, unrounded form of person, a want of fulnessin the lines of her figure, she was the prettiest girl in that partof the world. She was living now at a school in Silverbridge, wherefor the last year she had been ateacher; and there were many inSilverbridge who declared that very bright prospects were opening toher,--that young Major Grantly of Cosby Lodge, who, though a widowerwith a young child, was the cynosure of allfemale eyes in andround Silverbridge, had found beauty in her thin face, and thatGrace Crawley's fortune was made in the teeth, as it were, of theprevailing ill-fortune of her family. Bob Crawley, who was twoyearsyounger, was now at Marlbro' School, from whence it was intended thathe should proceed to Cambridge, and be educated there at the expenseof his godfather, Dean Arabin. In this also the world saw a strokeofgood luck. But then nothing was lucky to Mr. Crawley. Bob, indeed,who had done very well at school, might do well at Cambridge,--mightdo great things there. But Mr. Crawley would almost have preferredthat the boyshould work in the fields, than that he should beeducated in a manner so manifestly eleemosynary. And then hisclothes! How was he to be provided with clothes fit either for schoolor for college? But the dean and Mrs.Crawley between them managedthis, leaving Mr. Crawley very much in the dark, as Mrs. Crawley wasin the habit of leaving him. Then there was a younger daughter, Jane,still at home, who passed her life between hermother's work-tableand her father's Greek, mending linen and learning to scaniambics,--for Mr. Crawley in his early days had been a ripe scholar.And now there had come upon them all this terribly-crushingdisaster.That poor Mr. Crawley had gradually got himself into a mess of debtat Silverbridge, from which he was quite unable to extricate himself,was generally known by all the world both of SilverbridgeandHogglestock. To a great many it was known that Dean Arabin hadpaid money for him, very much contrary to his own consent, andthat he had quarrelled, or attempted to quarrel, with the dean inconsequence,--hadso attempted, although the money had in part passedthrough his own hands. There had been one creditor, Fletcher, thebutcher of Silverbridge, who had of late been specially hard uponpoor Crawley. This man, who hadnot been without good nature in hisdealings, had heard stories of the dean's good-will and such like,and had loudly expressed his opinion that the perpetual curate ofHogglestock would show a higher pride in allowing


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of Child Christopher, by William MorrisThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use itunder the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: Child ChristopherAuthor: William MorrisRelease Date: July 1, 2008 [EBook #234]Language: English***START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHILD CHRISTOPHER ***Produced by John HammCHILD CHRISTOPHER AND GOLDILIND THE FAIRby William Morris1895CHAPTER I. OF THE KING OF OAKENREALM, ANDHIS WIFE AND HIS CHILD.Of old there was a land which was so much a woodland, that a minstrelthereof said it that a squirrel might go from end to end, and all about,from tree to tree, and never touch the earth:therefore was that landcalled Oakenrealm.The lord and king thereof was a stark man, and so great a warrior thatin his youth he took no delight in aught else save battle and tourneys.But when he was hard on fortyyears old, he came across a daughter ofa certain lord, whom he had vanquished, and his eyes bewrayed himinto longing, so that he gave back to the said lord the havings he hadconquered of him that he might lay themaiden in his kingly bed. So hebrought her home with him to Oakenrealm and wedded her.Tells the tale that he rued not his bargain, but loved her so dearlythat for a year round he wore no armour, save when shebade him play inthe tilt-yard for her desport and pride.So wore the days till she went with child and was near her time, andthen it betid that three kings who marched on Oakenrealm banded themtogether against him,and his lords and thanes cried out on him to leadthem to battle, and it behoved him to do as they would.So he sent out the tokens and bade an hosting at his chief city, andwhen all was ready he said farewell to his wifeand her babe unborn, andwent his ways to battle once more: but fierce was his heart against thefoemen, that they had dragged him away from his love and his joy.Even amidst of his land he joined battle with the hostof the ravagers,and the tale of them is short to tell, for they were as the wheat beforethe hook. But as he followed up the chase, a mere thrall of the fleersturned on him and cast his spear, and it reached him whereashis hawberkwas broken, and stood deep in, so that he fell to earth unmighty: andwhen his lords and chieftains drew about him, and cunning men strove toheal him, it was of no avail, and he knew that his soul wasdeparting.Then he sent for a priest, and for the Marshal of the host, who was agreat lord, and the son of his father's brother, and in few words badehim look to the babe whom his wife bore about, and if it were a man,tocherish him and do him to learn all that a king ought to know; and if itwere a maiden, that he should look to her wedding well and worthily: andhe let swear him on his sword, on the edges and the hilts, that hewoulddo even so, and be true unto his child if child there were: and he badehim have rule, if so be the lords would, and all the people, till thechild were of age to be king: and the Marshal swore, and all the lordswhostood around bare witness to his swearing. Thereafter the priesthouselled the King, and he received his Creator, and a little whileafter his soul departed.But the Marshal followed up the fleeing foe, and two battles morehefought before he beat them flat to earth; and then they craved forpeace, and he went back to the city in mickle honour.But in the King's city of Oakenham he found but little joy; for boththe King was bemoaned,whereas he had been no hard man to his folk; andalso, when the tidings and the King's corpse came back to Oakenrealm,his Lady and Queen took sick for sorrow and fear, and fell into labourof her child, and in childingof a man-bairn she died, but the ladlived, and was like to do well.So there was one funeral for the slain King and for her whom his slayinghad slain: and when that was done, the little king was borne to thefont, and athis christening he gat to name Christopher.Thereafter the Marshal summoned all them that were due thereto to comeand give homage to the new king, and even so did they, though he werebut a babe, yea, and whohad but just now been a king lying in hismother's womb. But when the homage was done, then the Marshal calledtogether the wise men, and told them how the King that was had given himin charge his son as thenunborn, and the ruling of the realm till thesaid son were come to man's estate: but he bade them seek one worthierif they had heart to gainsay the word of their dying lord. Then all theysaid that he was worthy andmighty and the choice of their dear lord,and that they would have none but he.So then was the great folk-mote called, and the same matter was laidbefore all the people, and none said aught against it, whereas nomanwas ready to name another to that charge and rule, even had it been hisown self.Now then by law was the Marshal, who hight Rolf, lord and earl of theland of Oakenrealm. He ruled well and strongly, and was a fellwarrior:he was well befriended by many of the great; and the rest of them fearedhim and his friends: as for the commonalty, they saw that he held therealm in peace; and for the rest, they knew little and saw less ofhim,and they paid to his bailiffs and sheriffs as little as they could, andmore than they would. But whereas that left them somewhat to grind theirteeth on, and they were not harried, they were not so ill content. SotheMarshal throve, and lacked nothing of a king's place save the barename.CHAPTER II. OF THE KING'S SON.As for the King's son, to whom the folk had of late done homage as king,he was at first seen about a corner ofthe High House with his nurses;and then in a while it was said, and the tale noted, but not much, thathe must needs go for his health's sake, and because he was puny, to somestead amongst the fields, and folk heardsay that he was gone to thestrong house of a knight somewhat stricken in years, who was called LordRichard the Lean. The said house was some twelve miles from Oakenham,not far from the northern edge of thewild-wood. But in a while, scarcemore than a year, Lord Richard brake up house at the said castle, andwent southward through the forest. Of this departure was little said,for he was not a man amongst the foremost. Asfor the King's little son,if any remembered that he was in the hands of the said Lord Richard,none said aught about it; for if any thought of the little babe at all,they said to themselves, Never will he come to be king.Nowas for Lord Richard the Lean, he went far through the wood, anduntil he was come to another house of his, that stood in a clearingsomewhat near to where Oakenrealm marched on another country, whichhightMeadham; though the said wild-wood ended not where Oakenrealmended, but stretched a good way into Meadham; and betwixt one and theother much rough country there was.It is to be said that amongst those whowent to this stronghold of thewoods was the little King Christopher, no longer puny, but a stoutbabe enough: so he was borne amongst the serving men and thralls tothe castle of the Outer March; and he was in no wisetreated as a greatman's son; but there was more than one woman who was kind to him, andas he waxed in strength and beauty month by month, both carle andquean fell to noting him, and, for as little as he was, hebegan to bewell-beloved.As to the stead where he was nourished, though it were far away amongstthe woods, it was no such lonely or savage place: besides the castle andthe houses of it, there was a merry thorpe inthe clearing, the houseswhereof were set down by the side of a clear and pleasant little stream.Moreover the goodmen and swains of the said township were no ill folk,but bold of heart, free of speech, and goodly offavour; and the womenof them fair, kind, and trusty. Whiles came folk journeying in toOakenrealm or out to Meadham, and of these some were minstrels, who hadwith them tidings of what was astir whereas folk werethicker in theworld, and some chapmen, who chaffered with the thorpe-dwellers, andtook of them the woodland spoil for such outland goods as those woodmenneeded.So wore the years, and in Oakenham KingChristopher was well nighforgotten, and in the wild-wood had never been known clearly for King'sson. At first, by command of Rolf the Marshal, a messenger cameevery year from Lord Richard with a letter that told ofhow the ladChristopher did. But when five years were worn, the Marshal bade sendhim tidings thereof every three years; and by then it was come to thetwelfth year, and still the tidings were that the lad throve ever,andmeanwhile the Marshal sat fast in his seat with none to gainsay, theword went to Lord Richard that he should send no more, for that he, theMarshal, had heard enough of the boy; and if he throve it were well, andifnot, it was no worse. So wore the days and the years.CHAPTER III. OF THE KING OF MEADHAM AND HIS DAUGHTER.Tells the tale that in the country which lay south of Oakenrealm, andwas called Meadham, there wasin these days a king whose wife was dead,but had left him a fair daughter, who was born some four years afterKing Christopher. A good man was this King Roland, mild, bounteous, andno regarder of persons in hisjustice; and well-beloved he was of hisfolk: yet could not their love keep him alive; for, whenas his daughterwas of the age of twelve years, he sickened unto death; and so, when heknew that his end drew near, he sentfor the wisest of his wise men,and they came unto him sorrowing in the High House of his chiefest city,which hight Meadhamstead. So he bade them sit down nigh unto his bed,and took up the word and spake:"Masters,and my good lords, ye may see clearly that a sundering is athand, and that I must needs make a long journey, whence I shall comeback never; now I would, and am verily of duty bound thereto, that Ileave behind mesome good order in the land. Furthermore, I would thatmy daughter, when she is of age thereto, should be Queen in Meadham, andrule the land; neither will it be many years before she shall be of ripeage for ruling, ifever she may be; and I deem not that there shall beany lack in her, whereas her mother could all courtesy, and was as wiseas a woman may be. But how say ye, my masters?"So they all with one consent said Yea, andthey would ask for no betterking than their lady his daughter. Then said the King:"Hearken carefully, for my time is short: Yet is she young and a maiden,though she be wise. Now therefore do I need some man welllooked to ofthe folk, who shall rule the land in her name till she be of eighteenwinters, and who shall be her good friend and counsellor into all wisdomthereafter. Which of you, my masters, is meet for this matter?"Thenthey all looked one on the other, and spake not. And the King said:"Speak, some one of you, without fear; this is no time for tarrying."Thereon spake an elder, the oldest of them, and said: "Lord, this isthe very truth,that none of us here present are meet for this office:whereas, among other matters, we be all unmeet for battle; some of ushave never been warriors, and other some are past the age for leading anhost. To say thesooth, King, there is but one man in Meadham who may dowhat thou wilt, and not fail; both for his wisdom, and his might afield,and the account which is had of him amongst the people; and that man isEarl Geoffrey, ofthe Southern Marches.""Ye say sooth," quoth the King; "but is he down in the South, or nigherto hand?"Said the elder: "He is as now in Meadhamstead, and may be in thischamber in scant half an hour." So the Kingbade send for him, and therewas silence in the chamber till he came in, clad in a scarlet kirtle anda white cloak, and with his sword by his side. He was a tall man,bigly made; somewhat pale of face, black and curly ofhair; blue-eyed,thin-lipped, and hook-nosed as an eagle; a man warrior-like, andsomewhat fierce of aspect. He knelt down by the King's bedside, andasked him in a sorrowful voice what he would, and the King said: "Iaska great matter of thee, and all these my wise men, and I myself,withal, deem that thou canst do it, and thou alone--nay, hearken: I amdeparting, and I would have thee hold my place, and do unto my peopleevenwhat I would do if I myself were living; and to my daughter asnigh to that as may be. I say all this thou mayst do, if thou wilt be astrusty and leal to me after I am dead, as thou hast seemed to all men'seyes to havebeen while I was living. What sayest thou?"The Earl had hidden his face in the coverlet of the bed while the Kingwas speaking; but now he lifted up his face, weeping, and said: "Kinsmanand friend and King; this isnought hard to do; but if it were, yetwould I do it.""It is well," said the King: "my heart fails me and my voice; so giveheed, and set thine ear close to my mouth: hearken, belike my daughterGoldilind shall be one of thefairest of women; I bid thee wed her tothe fairest of men and the strongest, and to none other."Thereat his voice failed him indeed, and he lay still; but he died not,till presently the priest came to him, and, as he might,houselled him:then he departed.As for Earl Geoffrey, when the King was buried, and the homages done tothe maiden Goldilind, he did no worse than those wise men deemed of him,but bestirred him, and looked fullsagely into all the matters of thekingdom, and did so well therein that all men praised his rule perforce,whether they loved him or not; and sooth to say he was not much beloved.CHAPTER IV. OF THE MAIDENGOLDILIND.AMIDST of all his other business Earl Geoffrey bethought him in a whileof the dead King's daughter, and he gave her in charge to a gentlewoman,somewhat stricken in years, a widow of high lineage, but notoverwealthy. She dwelt in her own house in a fair valley some twenty milesfrom Meadhamstead: thereabode Goldilind till a year and a half was worn,and had due observance, but little love, and not much kindnessfromthe said gentlewoman, who hight Dame Elinor Leashowe. Howbeit, timeand again came knights and ladies and lords to see the little lady, andkissed her hand and did obeisance to her; yet more came to her inthefirst three months of her sojourn at Leashowe than the second, and morein the second than the third.At last, on a day when the said year and a half was fully worn, thithercame Earl Geoffrey with a company ofknights and men-at-arms, and he didobeisance, as due was, to his master's daughter, and then spake awhileprivily with Dame Elinor; and thereafter they went into the hall, he,and she, and Goldilind, and there beforeall men he spake aloud andsaid:"My Lady Goldilind, meseemeth ye dwell here all too straitly; forneither is this house of Leashowe great enough for thy state, and theentertainment of the knights and lords who shallhave will to seek tothee hither; nor is the wealth of thy liege dame and governante as greatas it should be, and as thou, meseemeth, wouldst have it. Wherefore Ihave been considering thy desires herein, and if thoudeem it meet togive a gift to Dame Elinor, and live queenlier thyself than now thoudost, then mayst thou give unto her the Castle of Greenharbour, and thesix manors appertaining thereto, and withal the rights ofwild-wood andfen and fell that lie thereabout. Also, if thou wilt, thou mayst honourthe said castle with abiding there awhile at thy pleasure; and I shallsee to it that thou have due meney to go with thee thither. Howsayestthou, my lady?"Amongst that company there were two or three who looked at each otherand half smiled; and two or three looked on the maiden, who wasgoodly as of her years, as if with compassion; but themore part keptcountenance in full courtly wise.Then spake Goldilind in a quavering voice (for she was afraid and wise),and she said: "Cousin and Earl, we will that all this be done; and itlikes me well to eke the wealth ofthis lady and my good friend DameElinor."Quoth Earl Geoffrey: "Kneel before thy lady, Dame, and put thine handsbetween hers and thank her for the gift." So Dame Elinor knelt down, anddid homage and obeisance forher new land; and Goldilind raised herup and kissed her, and bade her sit down beside her, and spake to herkindly; and all men praised the maiden for her gentle and courteousways; and Dame Elinor smiled upon herand them, what she could.She was small of body and sleek; but her cheeks somewhat flagging; browneyes she had, long, half opened; thin lips, and chin somewhat fallingaway from her mouth; hard on fifty winters hadshe seen; yet there havebeen those who were older and goodlier both.CHAPTER V. GOLDILIND COMES TO GREENHARBOUR.But a little while tarried the Earl Geoffrey at Leashowe, but departednext morning and cameto Meadhamstead. A month thereafter came folk fromhim to Leashowe, to wit, the new meney for the new abode of Goldilind;amongst whom was a goodly band of men-at-arms, led by an old lordpinched and peevish offace, who kneeled to Goldilind as the newburgreve of Greenharbour; and a chaplain, a black canon, young,broad-cheeked and fresh-looking, but hard-faced and unlovely; threenew damsels withal were come for theyoung Queen, not young maids, butstalworth women, well-grown, and two of them hard-featured; the third,tall, black-haired, and a goodly-fashioned body.Now when these were come, who were all under the rule ofDame Elinor,there was no gainsaying the departure to the new home; and in two days'time they went their ways from Leashowe. But though Goldilind was young,she was wise, and her heart misgave her, when she wasamidst this newmeney, that she was not riding toward glory and honour, and a world ofworship and friends beloved. Howbeit, whatso might lie before her, sheput a good face upon it, and did to those about her queenlyand with allcourtesy.Five days they rode from Leashowe north away, by thorpe and town andmead and river, till the land became little peopled, and the sixth daythey rode the wild-wood ways, where was no folk, savenow and again thelittle cot of some forester or collier; but the seventh day, aboutnoon, they came into a clearing of the wood, a rugged little plain oflea-land, mingled with marish, with a little deal of acre-land inbarleyand rye, round about a score of poor frame-houses set down scattermealabout the lea. But on a long ridge, at the northern end of the saidplain, was a grey castle, strong, and with big and high towers, yetnot somuch greater than was Leashowe, deemed Goldilind, as for adwelling-house.Howbeit, they entered the said castle, and within, as without, it wassomewhat grim, though nought was lacking of plenishing due forfolkknightly. Long it were to tell of its walls and baileys and chambers;but let this suffice, that on the north side, toward the thick forest,was a garden of green-sward and flowers and potherbs; and a garth-wallof greystone, not very high, was the only defence thereof toward thewood, but it was overlooked by a tall tower of the great wall, whichhight the Foresters' Tower. In the said outer garth-wall also was apostern, whereby therewas not seldom coming in and going out.Now when Goldilind had been in her chamber for a few days, she found outfor certain, what she had before misdoubted, that she had been broughtfrom Leashowe and thepeopled parts near to Meadhamstead unto theuttermost parts of the realm to be kept in prison there.Howbeit, it was in a way prison courteous; she was still served withobservance, and bowed before, and called mylady and queen, and soforth: also she might go from chamber to hall and chapel, to and fro,yet scarce alone; and into the garden she might go, yet not for the morepart unaccompanied; and even at whiles she went outa-gates, but thenever with folk on the right hand and the left. Forsooth, whiles andagain, within the next two years of her abode at Greenharbour, out ofgates she went and alone; but that was as the prisoner whostrives to befree (although she had, forsooth, no thought or hope of escape), and asthe prisoner brought back was she chastised when she came within gatesagain.Everywhere, to be short, within and about the Castleof Greenharbour,did Goldilind meet the will and the tyranny of the little sleek widow,Dame Elinor, to whom both carle and quean in that corner of the worldwere but as servants and slaves to do her will; and the saidElinor, whoat first was but spiteful in word and look toward her lady, waxed worseas time wore and as the blossom of the King's daughter's womanhood beganto unfold, till at last the she-jailer had scarce feasted anydaywhen she had not in some wise grieved and tormented her prisoner; andwhatever she did, none had might to say her nay.But Goldilind took all with a high heart, and her courage grew withher years, nor would shebow the head before any grief, but took to herwhatsoever solace might come to her; as the pleasure of the sun and thewind, and the beholding of the greenery of the wood, and the fowl andthe beasts playing, which oft