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"A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens (full novel), Stave Three. The Second of the Three Spirits - Part 5

Stave Three. The Second of the Three Spirits - Part 5

By this time it was getting dark, and snowing pretty heavily; and as Scrooge and the Spirit went along the streets, the brightness of the roaring fires in kitchens, parlours, and all sorts of rooms, was wonderful. Here, the flickering of the blaze showed preparations for a cosy dinner, with hot plates baking through and through before the fire, and deep red curtains, ready to be drawn to shut out cold and darkness. There all the children of the house were running out into the snow to meet their married sisters, brothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, and be the first to greet them. Here, again, were shadows on the window-blind of guests assembling; and there a group of handsome girls, all hooded and fur-booted, and all chattering at once, tripped lightly off to some near neighbour's house; where, woe upon the single man who saw them enter—artful witches, well they knew it—in a glow! But, if you had judged from the numbers of people on their way to friendly gatherings, you might have thought that no one was at home to give them welcome when they got there, instead of every house expecting company, and piling up its fires half-chimney high. Blessings on it, how the Ghost exulted! How it bared its breadth of breast, and opened its capacious palm, and floated on, outpouring, with a generous hand, its bright and harmless mirth on everything within its reach! The very lamplighter, who ran on before, dotting the dusky street with specks of light, and who was dressed to spend the evening somewhere, laughed out loudly as the Spirit passed, though little kenned the lamplighter that he had any company but Christmas!

And now, without a word of warning from the Ghost, they stood upon a bleak and desert moor, where monstrous masses of rude stone were cast about, as though it were the burial-place of giants; and water spread itself wheresoever it listed, or would have done so, but for the frost that held it prisoner; and nothing grew but moss and furze, and coarse rank grass. Down in the west the setting sun had left a streak of fiery red, which glared upon the desolation for an instant, like a sullen eye, and frowning lower, lower, lower yet, was lost in the thick gloom of darkest night.

“What place is this?” asked Scrooge.

“A place where Miners live, who labour in the bowels of the earth,” returned the Spirit. “But they know me. See!”

A light shone from the window of a hut, and swiftly they advanced towards it. Passing through the wall of mud and stone, they found a cheerful company assembled round a glowing fire. An old, old man and woman, with their children and their children's children, and another generation beyond that, all decked out gaily in their holiday attire. The old man, in a voice that seldom rose above the howling of the wind upon the barren waste, was singing them a Christmas song—it had been a very old song when he was a boy—and from time to time they all joined in the chorus. So surely as they raised their voices, the old man got quite blithe and loud; and so surely as they stopped, his vigour sank again.

The Spirit did not tarry here, but bade Scrooge hold his robe, and passing on above the moor, sped—whither? Not to sea? To sea. To Scrooge's horror, looking back, he saw the last of the land, a frightful range of rocks, behind them; and his ears were deafened by the thundering of water, as it rolled and roared, and raged among the dreadful caverns it had worn, and fiercely tried to undermine the earth. Built upon a dismal reef of sunken rocks, some league or so from shore, on which the waters chafed and dashed, the wild year through, there stood a solitary lighthouse. Great heaps of sea-weed clung to its base, and storm-birds—born of the wind one might suppose, as sea-weed of the water—rose and fell about it, like the waves they skimmed.

But even here, two men who watched the light had made a fire, that through the loophole in the thick stone wall shed out a ray of brightness on the awful sea. Joining their horny hands over the rough table at which they sat, they wished each other Merry Christmas in their can of grog; and one of them: the elder, too, with his face all damaged and scarred with hard weather, as the figure-head of an old ship might be: struck up a sturdy song that was like a Gale in itself.

Again the Ghost sped on, above the black and heaving sea—on, on—until, being far away, as he told Scrooge, from any shore, they lighted on a ship. They stood beside the helmsman at the wheel, the look-out in the bow, the officers who had the watch; dark, ghostly figures in their several stations; but every man among them hummed a Christmas tune, or had a Christmas thought, or spoke below his breath to his companion of some bygone Christmas Day, with homeward hopes belonging to it. And every man on board, waking or sleeping, good or bad, had had a kinder word for another on that day than on any day in the year; and had shared to some extent in its festivities; and had remembered those he cared for at a distance, and had known that they delighted to remember him.

It was a great surprise to Scrooge, while listening to the moaning of the wind, and thinking what a solemn thing it was to move on through the lonely darkness over an unknown abyss, whose depths were secrets as profound as Death: it was a great surprise to Scrooge, while thus engaged, to hear a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recognise it as his own nephew's and to find himself in a bright, dry, gleaming room, with the Spirit standing smiling by his side, and looking at that same nephew with approving affability! “Ha, ha!” laughed Scrooge's nephew. “Ha, ha, ha!”

If you should happen, by any unlikely chance, to know a man more blest in a laugh than Scrooge's nephew, all I can say is, I should like to know him too. Introduce him to me, and I'll cultivate his acquaintance.


Stave Three. The Second of the Three Spirits - Part 5

By this time it was getting dark, and snowing pretty heavily; and as Scrooge and the Spirit went along the streets, the brightness of the roaring fires in kitchens, parlours, and all sorts of rooms, was wonderful. Here, the flickering of the blaze showed preparations for a cosy dinner, with hot plates baking through and through before the fire, and deep red curtains, ready to be drawn to shut out cold and darkness. Ici, le scintillement de l'incendie montrait les préparatifs d'un dîner confortable, avec des plaques chauffantes qui cuisaient de part en part devant le feu et des rideaux rouge foncé, prêts à être tirés pour empêcher le froid et l'obscurité. There all the children of the house were running out into the snow to meet their married sisters, brothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, and be the first to greet them. Là, tous les enfants de la maison couraient dans la neige pour rencontrer leurs sœurs, frères, cousins, oncles, tantes mariés, et être les premiers à les saluer. Here, again, were shadows on the window-blind of guests assembling; and there a group of handsome girls, all hooded and fur-booted, and all chattering at once, tripped lightly off to some near neighbour's house; where, woe upon the single man who saw them enter—artful witches, well they knew it—in a glow! Ici encore, il y avait des ombres sur les stores des invités qui se réunissaient ; et là, un groupe de belles filles, toutes encapuchonnées et bottées de fourrure, et toutes bavardant à la fois, trébuchèrent légèrement vers la maison d'un voisin proche ; où, malheur à l'homme seul qui les a vus entrer - sorciers rusés, ils le savaient bien - dans une lueur ! But, if you had judged from the numbers of people on their way to friendly gatherings, you might have thought that no one was at home to give them welcome when they got there, instead of every house expecting company, and piling up its fires half-chimney high. Mais, si vous aviez jugé d'après le nombre de personnes qui se rendaient aux réunions amicales, vous auriez pu penser que personne n'était à la maison pour les accueillir à leur arrivée, au lieu que chaque maison attend de la compagnie et entasse ses feux à moitié -cheminée haute. Blessings on it, how the Ghost exulted! How it bared its breadth of breast, and opened its capacious palm, and floated on, outpouring, with a generous hand, its bright and harmless mirth on everything within its reach! Comme il découvrit la largeur de sa poitrine et ouvrit sa paume spacieuse, et flotta dessus, déversant, d'une main généreuse, sa gaieté lumineuse et inoffensive sur tout ce qui était à sa portée ! The very lamplighter, who ran on before, dotting the dusky street with specks of light, and who was dressed to spend the evening somewhere, laughed out loudly as the Spirit passed, though little kenned the lamplighter that he had any company but Christmas! L'allumeur même, qui courait auparavant, parsemant la rue sombre de points de lumière, et qui était habillé pour passer la soirée quelque part, éclata de rire au passage de l'Esprit, bien que peu conscient de l'allumeur qu'il avait d'autre compagnie que Noël !

And now, without a word of warning from the Ghost, they stood upon a bleak and desert moor, where monstrous masses of rude stone were cast about, as though it were the burial-place of giants; and water spread itself wheresoever it listed, or would have done so, but for the frost that held it prisoner; and nothing grew but moss and furze, and coarse rank grass. Et maintenant, sans un mot d'avertissement du fantôme, ils se tenaient sur une lande sombre et désertique, où des masses monstrueuses de pierre grossière étaient jetées, comme s'il s'agissait du lieu de sépulture des géants ; et l'eau se répandit partout où elle le désirait, ou l'aurait fait, n'eût été le gel qui la retenait prisonnière ; et rien ne poussait que de la mousse et des ajoncs, et de l'herbe grossière et grossière. Down in the west the setting sun had left a streak of fiery red, which glared upon the desolation for an instant, like a sullen eye, and frowning lower, lower, lower yet, was lost in the thick gloom of darkest night. En bas à l'ouest, le soleil couchant avait laissé une traînée de rouge ardent, qui a aveuglé la désolation pendant un instant, comme un œil maussade, et les sourcils froncés de plus en plus bas, encore plus bas, se perdaient dans l'obscurité épaisse de la nuit la plus sombre.

“What place is this?” asked Scrooge.

“A place where Miners live, who labour in the bowels of the earth,” returned the Spirit. « Un lieu où vivent les mineurs, qui travaillent dans les entrailles de la terre », répondit l'Esprit. “But they know me. « Mais ils me connaissent. See!”

A light shone from the window of a hut, and swiftly they advanced towards it. Une lumière brillait par la fenêtre d'une hutte, et rapidement ils s'avancèrent vers elle. Passing through the wall of mud and stone, they found a cheerful company assembled round a glowing fire. An old, old man and woman, with their children and their children's children, and another generation beyond that, all decked out gaily in their holiday attire. Un vieil homme et une femme, avec leurs enfants et les enfants de leurs enfants, et une autre génération au-delà, tous parés gaiement de leurs vêtements de vacances. The old man, in a voice that seldom rose above the howling of the wind upon the barren waste, was singing them a Christmas song—it had been a very old song when he was a boy—and from time to time they all joined in the chorus. Le vieil homme, d'une voix qui s'élevait rarement au-dessus du hurlement du vent sur les terres arides, leur chantait une chanson de Noël - c'était une très vieille chanson quand il était petit - et de temps en temps ils se joignaient tous à eux. le refrain. So surely as they raised their voices, the old man got quite blithe and loud; and so surely as they stopped, his vigour sank again. Alors sûrement qu'ils élevaient la voix, le vieil homme devint tout à fait joyeux et bruyant; et si sûrement qu'ils s'arrêtaient, sa vigueur retomba.

The Spirit did not tarry here, but bade Scrooge hold his robe, and passing on above the moor, sped—whither? L'Esprit ne s'attarda pas ici, mais ordonna à Scrooge de tenir sa robe et, passant au-dessus de la lande, s'empressa – où ? Not to sea? To sea. To Scrooge's horror, looking back, he saw the last of the land, a frightful range of rocks, behind them; and his ears were deafened by the thundering of water, as it rolled and roared, and raged among the dreadful caverns it had worn, and fiercely tried to undermine the earth. À la grande horreur de Scrooge, en regardant en arrière, il vit le dernier de la terre, une effroyable rangée de rochers, derrière eux ; et ses oreilles étaient assourdies par le tonnerre de l'eau, alors qu'elle roulait et rugissait, et faisait rage parmi les terribles cavernes qu'elle avait parcourues, et essayait férocement de saper la terre. Built upon a dismal reef of sunken rocks, some league or so from shore, on which the waters chafed and dashed, the wild year through, there stood a solitary lighthouse. Construit sur un récif lugubre de rochers engloutis, à environ une lieue du rivage, sur lequel les eaux s'échauffaient et se précipitaient pendant toute l'année sauvage, se dressait un phare solitaire. Great heaps of sea-weed clung to its base, and storm-birds—born of the wind one might suppose, as sea-weed of the water—rose and fell about it, like the waves they skimmed. De grands amas d'algues s'accrochaient à sa base, et des oiseaux-tempêtes — nés du vent, pourrait-on supposer, comme des algues de l'eau — s'élevaient et tombaient autour d'elle, comme les vagues qu'ils effleuraient.

But even here, two men who watched the light had made a fire, that through the loophole in the thick stone wall shed out a ray of brightness on the awful sea. Mais même ici, deux hommes qui regardaient la lumière avaient allumé un feu qui, à travers la meurtrière de l'épais mur de pierre, projetait un rayon de lumière sur la mer affreuse. Joining their horny hands over the rough table at which they sat, they wished each other Merry Christmas in their can of grog; and one of them: the elder, too, with his face all damaged and scarred with hard weather, as the figure-head of an old ship might be: struck up a sturdy song that was like a Gale in itself. Joignant leurs mains cornées au-dessus de la table grossière à laquelle ils étaient assis, ils se souhaitèrent un joyeux Noël dans leur boîte de grog; et l'un d'eux : l'aîné aussi, avec son visage tout abîmé et marqué par le mauvais temps, comme pourrait être la figure de proue d'un vieux navire : entonna une chanson vigoureuse qui était comme un coup de vent en soi.

Again the Ghost sped on, above the black and heaving sea—on, on—until, being far away, as he told Scrooge, from any shore, they lighted on a ship. They stood beside the helmsman at the wheel, the look-out in the bow, the officers who had the watch; dark, ghostly figures in their several stations; but every man among them hummed a Christmas tune, or had a Christmas thought, or spoke below his breath to his companion of some bygone Christmas Day, with homeward hopes belonging to it. Ils se tenaient à côté du timonier au gouvernail, du guetteur à l'avant, des officiers de quart ; des personnages sombres et fantomatiques dans leurs différentes stations ; mais chacun d'entre eux fredonnait un air de Noël, ou avait une pensée de Noël, ou parlait à voix basse à son compagnon d'un jour de Noël passé, avec l'espoir de rentrer chez lui. And every man on board, waking or sleeping, good or bad, had had a kinder word for another on that day than on any day in the year; and had shared to some extent in its festivities; and had remembered those he cared for at a distance, and had known that they delighted to remember him. Et chaque homme à bord, éveillé ou endormi, bon ou mauvais, avait eu un mot plus gentil pour un autre ce jour-là que n'importe quel jour de l'année ; et avait participé dans une certaine mesure à ses festivités ; et s'était souvenu de ceux qu'il aimait à distance, et avait su qu'ils étaient ravis de se souvenir de lui.

It was a great surprise to Scrooge, while listening to the moaning of the wind, and thinking what a solemn thing it was to move on through the lonely darkness over an unknown abyss, whose depths were secrets as profound as Death: it was a great surprise to Scrooge, while thus engaged, to hear a hearty laugh. Ce fut une grande surprise pour Scrooge, en écoutant le gémissement du vent, et en pensant quelle chose solennelle c'était de passer à travers les ténèbres solitaires sur un abîme inconnu, dont les profondeurs étaient des secrets aussi profonds que la mort : c'était un grand surprise à Scrooge, alors qu'il était ainsi engagé, d'entendre un rire chaleureux. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recognise it as his own nephew's and to find himself in a bright, dry, gleaming room, with the Spirit standing smiling by his side, and looking at that same nephew with approving affability! Ce fut une bien plus grande surprise pour Scrooge de le reconnaître comme étant celui de son propre neveu et de se retrouver dans une pièce lumineuse, sèche et brillante, avec l'Esprit debout souriant à ses côtés et regardant ce même neveu avec une affabilité approbatrice ! “Ha, ha!” laughed Scrooge's nephew. “Ha, ha, ha!”

If you should happen, by any unlikely chance, to know a man more blest in a laugh than Scrooge's nephew, all I can say is, I should like to know him too. S'il vous arrivait, par un hasard improbable, de connaître un homme plus heureux de rire que le neveu de Scrooge, tout ce que je peux dire, c'est que j'aimerais le connaître aussi. Introduce him to me, and I'll cultivate his acquaintance. Présentez-le-moi et je cultiverai sa connaissance.