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- Чарльз Диккенс
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For
the
cart
so
hard
to
draw
is
near
its
journey
’
s
end
and
drags
over
stony
ground
.
All
round
the
clock
it
labours
up
the
broken
steps
,
shattered
and
worn
.
Not
many
times
can
the
sun
rise
and
behold
it
still
upon
its
weary
road
.
Phil
Squod
,
with
his
smoky
gunpowder
visage
,
at
once
acts
as
nurse
and
works
as
armourer
at
his
little
table
in
a
corner
,
often
looking
round
and
saying
with
a
nod
of
his
green
-
baize
cap
and
an
encouraging
elevation
of
his
one
eyebrow
,
"
Hold
up
,
my
boy
!
Hold
up
!
"
There
,
too
,
is
Mr
.
Jarndyce
many
a
time
,
and
Allan
Woodcourt
almost
always
,
both
thinking
,
much
,
how
strangely
fate
has
entangled
this
rough
outcast
in
the
web
of
very
different
lives
.
There
,
too
,
the
trooper
is
a
frequent
visitor
,
filling
the
doorway
with
his
athletic
figure
and
,
from
his
superfluity
of
life
and
strength
,
seeming
to
shed
down
temporary
vigour
upon
Jo
,
who
never
fails
to
speak
more
robustly
in
answer
to
his
cheerful
words
.
Jo
is
in
a
sleep
or
in
a
stupor
to
-
day
,
and
Allan
Woodcourt
,
newly
arrived
,
stands
by
him
,
looking
down
upon
his
wasted
form
.
After
a
while
he
softly
seats
himself
upon
the
bedside
with
his
face
towards
him
—
just
as
he
sat
in
the
law
-
writer
’
s
room
—
and
touches
his
chest
and
heart
.
The
cart
had
very
nearly
given
up
,
but
labours
on
a
little
more
.
The
trooper
stands
in
the
doorway
,
still
and
silent
.
Phil
has
stopped
in
a
low
clinking
noise
,
with
his
little
hammer
in
his
hand
.
Mr
.
Woodcourt
looks
round
with
that
grave
professional
interest
and
attention
on
his
face
,
and
glancing
significantly
at
the
trooper
,
signs
to
Phil
to
carry
his
table
out
.
When
the
little
hammer
is
next
used
,
there
will
be
a
speck
of
rust
upon
it
.
"
Well
,
Jo
!
What
is
the
matter
?
Don
’
t
be
frightened
.
"
"
I
thought
,
"
says
Jo
,
who
has
started
and
is
looking
round
,
"
I
thought
I
was
in
Tom
-
all
-
Alone
’
s
agin
.
Ain
’
t
there
nobody
here
but
you
,
Mr
.
Woodcot
?
"
"
Nobody
.
"
"
And
I
ain
’
t
took
back
to
Tom
-
all
-
Alone
’
s
.
Am
I
,
sir
?
"
"
No
.
"
Jo
closes
his
eyes
,
muttering
,
"
I
’
m
wery
thankful
.
"
After
watching
him
closely
a
little
while
,
Allan
puts
his
mouth
very
near
his
ear
and
says
to
him
in
a
low
,
distinct
voice
,
"
Jo
!
Did
you
ever
know
a
prayer
?
"
"
Never
knowd
nothink
,
sir
.
"
"
Not
so
much
as
one
short
prayer
?
"
"
No
,
sir
.
Nothink
at
all
.
Mr
.
Chadbands
he
wos
a
-
prayin
wunst
at
Mr
.
Sangsby
’
s
and
I
heerd
him
,
but
he
sounded
as
if
he
wos
a
-
speakin
to
hisself
,
and
not
to
me
.
He
prayed
a
lot
,
but
I
couldn
’
t
make
out
nothink
on
it
.
Different
times
there
was
other
genlmen
come
down
Tom
-
all
-
Alone
’
s
a
-
prayin
,
but
they
all
mostly
sed
as
the
t
’
other
’
wuns
prayed
wrong
,
and
all
mostly
sounded
to
be
a
-
talking
to
theirselves
,
or
a
-
passing
blame
on
the
t
’
others
,
and
not
a
-
talkin
to
us
.
WE
never
knowd
nothink
.
I
never
knowd
what
it
wos
all
about
.
"
It
takes
him
a
long
time
to
say
this
,
and
few
but
an
experienced
and
attentive
listener
could
hear
,
or
,
hearing
,
understand
him
.
After
a
short
relapse
into
sleep
or
stupor
,
he
makes
,
of
a
sudden
,
a
strong
effort
to
get
out
of
bed
.
"
Stay
,
Jo
!
What
now
?
"
"
It
’
s
time
for
me
to
go
to
that
there
berryin
ground
,
sir
,
"
he
returns
with
a
wild
look
.
"
Lie
down
,
and
tell
me
.
What
burying
ground
,
Jo
?
"
"
Where
they
laid
him
as
wos
wery
good
to
me
,
wery
good
to
me
indeed
,
he
wos
It
’
s
time
fur
me
to
go
down
to
that
there
berryin
ground
,
sir
,
and
ask
to
be
put
along
with
him
.
I
wants
to
go
there
and
be
berried
.
He
used
fur
to
say
to
me
,
’
I
am
as
poor
as
you
to
-
day
,
Jo
,
’
he
ses
.
I
wants
to
tell
him
that
I
am
as
poor
as
him
now
and
have
come
there
to
be
laid
along
with
him
.
"
"
By
and
by
,
Jo
.
By
and
by
.
"
"
Ah
!
P
’
raps
they
wouldn
’
t
do
it
if
I
wos
to
go
myself
.
But
will
you
promise
to
have
me
took
there
,
sir
,
and
laid
along
with
him
?
"
"
I
will
,
indeed
.
"
"
Thankee
,
sir
.
Thankee
,
sir
.
They
’
ll
have
to
get
the
key
of
the
gate
afore
they
can
take
me
in
,
for
it
’
s
allus
locked
.
And
there
’
s
a
step
there
,
as
I
used
for
to
clean
with
my
broom
.
It
’
s
turned
wery
dark
,
sir
.
Is
there
any
light
a
-
comin
?
"
"
It
is
coming
fast
,
Jo
.
"
Fast
.
The
cart
is
shaken
all
to
pieces
,
and
the
rugged
road
is
very
near
its
end
.
"
Jo
,
my
poor
fellow
!
"
"
I
hear
you
,
sir
,
in
the
dark
,
but
I
’
m
a
-
gropin
—
a
-
gropin
—
let
me
catch
hold
of
your
hand
.
"
"
Jo
,
can
you
say
what
I
say
?
"
"
I
’
ll
say
anythink
as
you
say
,
sir
,
for
I
knows
it
’
s
good
.
"
"
Our
Father
.
"
"
Our
Father
!
Yes
,
that
’
s
wery
good
,
sir
.
"
"
Which
art
in
heaven
.
"
"
Art
in
heaven
—
is
the
light
a
-
comin
,
sir
?
"
"
It
is
close
at
hand
.
Hallowed
be
thy
name
!
"
"
Hallowed
be
—
thy
—
"
The
light
is
come
upon
the
dark
benighted
way
.
Dead
!
Dead
,
your
Majesty
.
Dead
,
my
lords
and
gentlemen
.
Dead
,
right
reverends
and
wrong
reverends
of
every
order
.
Dead
,
men
and
women
,
born
with
heavenly
compassion
in
your
hearts
.
And
dying
thus
around
us
every
day
.
The
place
in
Lincolnshire
has
shut
its
many
eyes
again
,
and
the
house
in
town
is
awake
.
In
Lincolnshire
the
Dedlocks
of
the
past
doze
in
their
picture
-
frames
,
and
the
low
wind
murmurs
through
the
long
drawing
-
room
as
if
they
were
breathing
pretty
regularly
.
In
town
the
Dedlocks
of
the
present
rattle
in
their
fire
-
eyed
carriages
through
the
darkness
of
the
night
,
and
the
Dedlock
Mercuries
,
with
ashes
(
or
hair
-
powder
)
on
their
heads
,
symptomatic
of
their
great
humility
,
loll
away
the
drowsy
mornings
in
the
little
windows
of
the
hall
.
The
fashionable
world
—
tremendous
orb
,
nearly
five
miles
round
—
is
in
full
swing
,
and
the
solar
system
works
respectfully
at
its
appointed
distances
.
Where
the
throng
is
thickest
,
where
the
lights
are
brightest
,
where
all
the
senses
are
ministered
to
with
the
greatest
delicacy
and
refinement
,
Lady
Dedlock
is
.
From
the
shining
heights
she
has
scaled
and
taken
,
she
is
never
absent
.
Though
the
belief
she
of
old
reposed
in
herself
as
one
able
to
reserve
whatsoever
she
would
under
her
mantle
of
pride
is
beaten
down
,
though
she
has
no
assurance
that
what
she
is
to
those
around
her
she
will
remain
another
day
,
it
is
not
in
her
nature
when
envious
eyes
are
looking
on
to
yield
or
to
droop
.
They
say
of
her
that
she
has
lately
grown
more
handsome
and
more
haughty
.
The
debilitated
cousin
says
of
her
that
she
’
s
beauty
nough
—
tsetup
shopofwomen
—
but
rather
larming
kind
—
remindingmanfact
—
inconvenient
woman
—
who
WILL
getoutofbedandbawthstahlishment
—
Shakespeare
.
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
says
nothing
,
looks
nothing
.
Now
,
as
heretofore
,
he
is
to
be
found
in
doorways
of
rooms
,
with
his
limp
white
cravat
loosely
twisted
into
its
old
-
fashioned
tie
,
receiving
patronage
from
the
peerage
and
making
no
sign
.
Of
all
men
he
is
still
the
last
who
might
be
supposed
to
have
any
influence
upon
my
Lady
.
Of
all
women
she
is
still
the
last
who
might
be
supposed
to
have
any
dread
of
him
.
One
thing
has
been
much
on
her
mind
since
their
late
interview
in
his
turret
-
room
at
Chesney
Wold
.
She
is
now
decided
,
and
prepared
to
throw
it
off
.
It
is
morning
in
the
great
world
,
afternoon
according
to
the
little
sun
.
The
Mercuries
,
exhausted
by
looking
out
of
window
,
are
reposing
in
the
hall
and
hang
their
heavy
heads
,
the
gorgeous
creatures
,
like
overblown
sunflowers
.
Like
them
,
too
,
they
seem
to
run
to
a
deal
of
seed
in
their
tags
and
trimmings
.
Sir
Leicester
,
in
the
library
,
has
fallen
asleep
for
the
good
of
the
country
over
the
report
of
a
Parliamentary
committee
.
My
Lady
sits
in
the
room
in
which
she
gave
audience
to
the
young
man
of
the
name
of
Guppy
.
Rosa
is
with
her
and
has
been
writing
for
her
and
reading
to
her
.
Rosa
is
now
at
work
upon
embroidery
or
some
such
pretty
thing
,
and
as
she
bends
her
head
over
it
,
my
Lady
watches
her
in
silence
.
Not
for
the
first
time
to
-
day
.
"
Rosa
.
"
The
pretty
village
face
looks
brightly
up
.
Then
,
seeing
how
serious
my
Lady
is
,
looks
puzzled
and
surprised
.
"
See
to
the
door
.
Is
it
shut
?
"
Yes
.
She
goes
to
it
and
returns
,
and
looks
yet
more
surprised
.
"
I
am
about
to
place
confidence
in
you
,
child
,
for
I
know
I
may
trust
your
attachment
,
if
not
your
judgment
.
In
what
I
am
going
to
do
,
I
will
not
disguise
myself
to
you
at
least
.
But
I
confide
in
you
.
Say
nothing
to
any
one
of
what
passes
between
us
.
"
The
timid
little
beauty
promises
in
all
earnestness
to
be
trustworthy
.
"
Do
you
know
,
"
Lady
Dedlock
asks
her
,
signing
to
her
to
bring
her
chair
nearer
,
"
do
you
know
,
Rosa
,
that
I
am
different
to
you
from
what
I
am
to
any
one
?
"
"
Yes
,
my
Lady
.
Much
kinder
.
But
then
I
often
think
I
know
you
as
you
really
are
.
"
"
You
often
think
you
know
me
as
I
really
am
?
Poor
child
,
poor
child
!
"
She
says
it
with
a
kind
of
scorn
—
though
not
of
Rosa
—
and
sits
brooding
,
looking
dreamily
at
her
.
"
Do
you
think
,
Rosa
,
you
are
any
relief
or
comfort
to
me
?
Do
you
suppose
your
being
young
and
natural
,
and
fond
of
me
and
grateful
to
me
,
makes
it
any
pleasure
to
me
to
have
you
near
me
?
"
"
I
don
’
t
know
,
my
Lady
;
I
can
scarcely
hope
so
.
But
with
all
my
heart
,
I
wish
it
was
so
.
"
"
It
is
so
,
little
one
.
"
The
pretty
face
is
checked
in
its
flush
of
pleasure
by
the
dark
expression
on
the
handsome
face
before
it
.
It
looks
timidly
for
an
explanation
.
"
And
if
I
were
to
say
to
-
day
,
’
Go
!
Leave
me
!
’
I
should
say
what
would
give
me
great
pain
and
disquiet
,
child
,
and
what
would
leave
me
very
solitary
.
"
"
My
Lady
!
Have
I
offended
you
?
"
"
In
nothing
.
Come
here
.
"
Rosa
bends
down
on
the
footstool
at
my
Lady
’
s
feet
.
My
Lady
,
with
that
motherly
touch
of
the
famous
ironmaster
night
,
lays
her
hand
upon
her
dark
hair
and
gently
keeps
it
there
.
"
I
told
you
,
Rosa
,
that
I
wished
you
to
be
happy
and
that
I
would
make
you
so
if
I
could
make
anybody
happy
on
this
earth
.
I
cannot
.
There
are
reasons
now
known
to
me
,
reasons
in
which
you
have
no
part
,
rendering
it
far
better
for
you
that
you
should
not
remain
here
.
You
must
not
remain
here
.
I
have
determined
that
you
shall
not
.
I
have
written
to
the
father
of
your
lover
,
and
he
will
be
here
to
-
day
.
All
this
I
have
done
for
your
sake
.
"
The
weeping
girl
covers
her
hand
with
kisses
and
says
what
shall
she
do
,
what
shall
she
do
,
when
they
are
separated
!
Her
mistress
kisses
her
on
the
cheek
and
makes
no
other
answer
.
"
Now
,
be
happy
,
child
,
under
better
circumstances
.
Be
beloved
and
happy
!
"
"
Ah
,
my
Lady
,
I
have
sometimes
thought
—
forgive
my
being
so
free
—
that
YOU
are
not
happy
.
"
"
I
!
"
"
Will
you
be
more
so
when
you
have
sent
me
away
?
Pray
,
pray
,
think
again
.
Let
me
stay
a
little
while
!
"
"
I
have
said
,
my
child
,
that
what
I
do
,
I
do
for
your
sake
,
not
my
own
.
It
is
done
.
What
I
am
towards
you
,
Rosa
,
is
what
I
am
now
—
not
what
I
shall
be
a
little
while
hence
.
Remember
this
,
and
keep
my
confidence
.
Do
so
much
for
my
sake
,
and
thus
all
ends
between
us
!
"
She
detaches
herself
from
her
simple
-
hearted
companion
and
leaves
the
room
.
Late
in
the
afternoon
,
when
she
next
appears
upon
the
staircase
,
she
is
in
her
haughtiest
and
coldest
state
.
As
indifferent
as
if
all
passion
,
feeling
,
and
interest
had
been
worn
out
in
the
earlier
ages
of
the
world
and
had
perished
from
its
surface
with
its
other
departed
monsters
.
Mercury
has
announced
Mr
.
Rouncewell
,
which
is
the
cause
of
her
appearance
.
Mr
.
Rouncewell
is
not
in
the
library
,
but
she
repairs
to
the
library
.
Sir
Leicester
is
there
,
and
she
wishes
to
speak
to
him
first
.
"
Sir
Leicester
,
I
am
desirous
—
but
you
are
engaged
.
"
Oh
,
dear
no
!
Not
at
all
.
Only
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
.
Always
at
hand
.
Haunting
every
place
.
No
relief
or
security
from
him
for
a
moment
.
"
I
beg
your
pardon
,
Lady
Dedlock
.
Will
you
allow
me
to
retire
?
"
With
a
look
that
plainly
says
,
"
You
know
you
have
the
power
to
remain
if
you
will
,
"
she
tells
him
it
is
not
necessary
and
moves
towards
a
chair
.
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
brings
it
a
little
forward
for
her
with
his
clumsy
bow
and
retires
into
a
window
opposite
.
Interposed
between
her
and
the
fading
light
of
day
in
the
now
quiet
street
,
his
shadow
falls
upon
her
,
and
he
darkens
all
before
her
.
Even
so
does
he
darken
her
life
.
It
is
a
dull
street
under
the
best
conditions
,
where
the
two
long
rows
of
houses
stare
at
each
other
with
that
severity
that
half
-
a
-
dozen
of
its
greatest
mansions
seem
to
have
been
slowly
stared
into
stone
rather
than
originally
built
in
that
material
.
It
is
a
street
of
such
dismal
grandeur
,
so
determined
not
to
condescend
to
liveliness
,
that
the
doors
and
windows
hold
a
gloomy
state
of
their
own
in
black
paint
and
dust
,
and
the
echoing
mews
behind
have
a
dry
and
massive
appearance
,
as
if
they
were
reserved
to
stable
the
stone
chargers
of
noble
statues
.
Complicated
garnish
of
iron
-
work
entwines
itself
over
the
flights
of
steps
in
this
awful
street
,
and
from
these
petrified
bowers
,
extinguishers
for
obsolete
flambeaux
gasp
at
the
upstart
gas
.
Here
and
there
a
weak
little
iron
hoop
,
through
which
bold
boys
aspire
to
throw
their
friends
’
caps
(
its
only
present
use
)
,
retains
its
place
among
the
rusty
foliage
,
sacred
to
the
memory
of
departed
oil
.
Nay
,
even
oil
itself
,
yet
lingering
at
long
intervals
in
a
little
absurd
glass
pot
,
with
a
knob
in
the
bottom
like
an
oyster
,
blinks
and
sulks
at
newer
lights
every
night
,
like
its
high
and
dry
master
in
the
House
of
Lords
.
Therefore
there
is
not
much
that
Lady
Dedlock
,
seated
in
her
chair
,
could
wish
to
see
through
the
window
in
which
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
stands
.
And
yet
—
and
yet
—
she
sends
a
look
in
that
direction
as
if
it
were
her
heart
’
s
desire
to
have
that
figure
moved
out
of
the
way
.
Sir
Leicester
begs
his
Lady
’
s
pardon
.
She
was
about
to
say
?
"
Only
that
Mr
.
Rouncewell
is
here
(
he
has
called
by
my
appointment
)
and
that
we
had
better
make
an
end
of
the
question
of
that
girl
.
I
am
tired
to
death
of
the
matter
.
"
"
What
can
I
do
—
to
—
assist
?
"
demands
Sir
Leicester
in
some
considerable
doubt
.
"
Let
us
see
him
here
and
have
done
with
it
.
Will
you
tell
them
to
send
him
up
?
"
"
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
,
be
so
good
as
to
ring
.
Thank
you
.
Request
,
"
says
Sir
Leicester
to
Mercury
,
not
immediately
remembering
the
business
term
,
"
request
the
iron
gentleman
to
walk
this
way
.
"
Mercury
departs
in
search
of
the
iron
gentleman
,
finds
,
and
produces
him
.
Sir
Leicester
receives
that
ferruginous
person
graciously
.
"
I
hope
you
are
well
,
Mr
.
Rouncewell
.
Be
seated
.
(
My
solicitor
,
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
.
)
My
Lady
was
desirous
,
Mr
.
Rouncewell
,
"
Sir
Leicester
skilfully
transfers
him
with
a
solemn
wave
of
his
hand
,
"
was
desirous
to
speak
with
you
.
Hem
!
"
"
I
shall
be
very
happy
,
"
returns
the
iron
gentleman
,
"
to
give
my
best
attention
to
anything
Lady
Dedlock
does
me
the
honour
to
say
.
"
As
he
turns
towards
her
,
he
finds
that
the
impression
she
makes
upon
him
is
less
agreeable
than
on
the
former
occasion
.
A
distant
supercilious
air
makes
a
cold
atmosphere
about
her
,
and
there
is
nothing
in
her
bearing
,
as
there
was
before
,
to
encourage
openness
.
"
Pray
,
sir
,
"
says
Lady
Dedlock
listlessly
,
"
may
I
be
allowed
to
inquire
whether
anything
has
passed
between
you
and
your
son
respecting
your
son
’
s
fancy
?
"
It
is
almost
too
troublesome
to
her
languid
eyes
to
bestow
a
look
upon
him
as
she
asks
this
question
.
"
If
my
memory
serves
me
,
Lady
Dedlock
,
I
said
,
when
I
had
the
pleasure
of
seeing
you
before
,
that
I
should
seriously
advise
my
son
to
conquer
that
—
fancy
.
"
The
ironmaster
repeats
her
expression
with
a
little
emphasis
.
"
And
did
you
?
"
"
Oh
!
Of
course
I
did
.
"
Sir
Leicester
gives
a
nod
,
approving
and
confirmatory
.
Very
proper
.
The
iron
gentleman
,
having
said
that
he
would
do
it
,
was
bound
to
do
it
.
No
difference
in
this
respect
between
the
base
metals
and
the
precious
.
Highly
proper
.
"
And
pray
has
he
done
so
?
"
"
Really
,
Lady
Dedlock
,
I
cannot
make
you
a
definite
reply
.
I
fear
not
.
Probably
not
yet
.
In
our
condition
of
life
,
we
sometimes
couple
an
intention
with
our
—
our
fancies
which
renders
them
not
altogether
easy
to
throw
off
.
I
think
it
is
rather
our
way
to
be
in
earnest
.
"
Sir
Leicester
has
a
misgiving
that
there
may
be
a
hidden
Wat
Tylerish
meaning
in
this
expression
,
and
fumes
a
little
.
Mr
.
Rouncewell
is
perfectly
good
-
humoured
and
polite
,
but
within
such
limits
,
evidently
adapts
his
tone
to
his
reception
.
"
Because
,
"
proceeds
my
Lady
,
"
I
have
been
thinking
of
the
subject
,
which
is
tiresome
to
me
.
