A Christmas Carol; Or, The Miser's Warning!

Sam. Let the charwoman alone to be the first – let the laundress alone to be second – and let the undertaker's man alone to be the third. Look here old Joe, here's a chance! If we all three haven't met here without meaning it.

Joe. You couldn't have met in a better place. Come into the parlour – you're none of you strangers. Stop till I shut the door of the shop. Ah! how it shrieks! There an't such a rusty bit of metal here as its own hinges – and I'm sure there's no such old bones here as mine. Ha, ha! we're all suitable to our calling. We're well matched. Come into the parlour. (They come forward by screen.)

Mrs. M. (Throwing down bundle.) What odds, then, Mrs. Dibler? Every person has a right to take care of themselves. He always did.

Sam. No man more so, so don't stand staring as if you was afraid, woman – who's the wiser? We're not going to pick holes in each other's coats, I suppose?

Omnes. No, indeed! we should hope not!

Mrs. M. Who's the worse for the loss of a few things like these? Not a dead man, I suppose?

Omnes. (Laughing.) No, indeed!

Sam. If he wanted to keep 'em after he was dead, a wicked old screw, why wasn't he natural in his life time?

Mrs. M. If he had been, he'd have had somebody to look after him when he was struck with death, instead of lying, gasping out his last, alone there by himself – it's a judgment upon him! Open that bundle, old Joe, and let me know the value of it.

Sam. Stop! I'll be served first, to spare your blushes, though we pretty well knew we were helping ourselves, and no sin neither! (Gives trinkets to Joe.)

Joe. Two seals, pencil case, brooch, sleeve buttons! (Chalking figures on wall.) Five bob! Wouldn't give more, if you was to boil me! Who's next? (Mrs. Dibler offers bundle which he examines.) There's your money! (Chalks on wall.) I always give too much to ladies – it's my weakness, and so I ruin myself. If you asked for another penny, and made it an open question, I'd repent of being so liberal, and knock off half a-crown! (Examines Mrs. Mildew's bundle upon his knees.) What do you call this? bed curtains? You don't mean to say you took 'em down, rings and all, with him lying there?

Mrs. M. Yes. I do! Why not?

Joe. You were born to make your fortune, and you'll certainly do it! Blankets! his blankets?

Mrs. M. Whose else's? He won't take cold without 'em!

Joe. I hope he didn't die of anything catching!

Mrs. M. No, no! or I'd not have waited on such as he! There, Joe, that's the best shirt he had – they'd ha' wasted it, but for me!

Joe. What do you call wasting it?

Mrs. M. Putting it on him to be buried, to be sure! Somebody was fool enough to do it, but I took it off again! If calico ain't good enough for such a purpose, it ain't good enough for anybody! It's quite as becoming to the body! He can't look uglier than he did in that one!

Scr. I listen to their words in horror!

Joe. There is what I will give you! (Chalks on wall, then takes out a small bag, and tells them out their money.)

Mrs. M. Ha, ha! This is the end of it, you see – he frightened every one away from him when he was alive, to profit us when he was dead – ha, ha, ha! (All laugh.)

Scr. (Shuddering.) Spirit, I see – I see! The case of this unhappy man might be my own – my life tends that way now. Let us be gone. (The Spirit points onward. The Scene changes.)

SCENE IV.—A chamber. Curtain drawn over recess. The Spirit points to it – then approaches it, followed by Scrooge trembling. The curtain is withdrawn – a bed is seen – a pale, light shows a figure, covered with a sheet upon it

Scr. (Recoiling in terror.) Ah! a bare uncurtained bed, and something there, which, though dumb, announces itself in awful language! Yes, plundered and bereft, unwatched, unwept, uncared for, is the body of this man! (The Spirit points towards the bed.) It points towards the face – the slightest movement of my hand would instantly reveal it – I long yet dread to do it. Oh, could this man be raised up and see himself! Avarice, hard dealing, griping cares! They have brought him to a rich end, truly! He lays alone in a dark empty house, with not a man, woman, or a child, to say – "He was kind to me – I will be kind to him!" Spirit, this is a fearful place! in leaving it, I shall not leave its lesson. Let us hence. If there is any person in the town who feels emotion caused by this man's death, show that person to me, I beseech you. (As he speaks the Scene changes.)

SCENE V.—A chamber. Scrooge and Spirit on l. h

Enter Ellen, r. h., second dress, followed by Euston, l. h

Ellen. What news my love – is it good or bad?

Eus. Bad!

Ellen. We are quite ruined!

Eus. No! there is hope yet, Ellen!

Ellen. If he relents, there is – nothing is past hope if such a miracle has happened.

Eus. He is past relenting! He is dead!

Ellen. Dead! It is a crime but heaven forgive me, I almost feel thankful for it!

Eus. What the half drunken-woman told me last night, when I tried to see him and obtain a week's delay, and which I thought a mere excuse to avoid me, was true, – he was not only ill, but dying then!

Ellen. To whom will our debt be transferred!

Eus. I don't know, but before that time we shall be ready with the money, and were we not, we can hardly find so merciless a creditor in his successor. We may sleep to-night with light hearts, Ellen. Come! (Exeunt r. h.)

Scr. This is terrible! Let me see some tenderness connected with a death in that dark chamber, which we left just now, Spirit – it will be for ever present to me. (Spirit points onward and slowly exits followed by Scrooge.)

SCENE VI.—Apartment at Bob Cratchit's

(Mrs. Cratchit, Peter, and the two younger Cratchit's discovered. Candle lighted. The Spirit enters, followed by Scrooge.)

Scr. As through the old familiar streets we passed, I looked in vain to find myself, but nowhere was I to be seen.

Mrs. C. (Laying down her work. Mourning.) The colour hurts my eyes, and I wouldn't show weak eyes to your father. It must be near his time – he walks slower than he used, and yet I've known him walk, with Tiny Tim upon his shoulder, very fast indeed – but he was very light to carry, and his father loved him, so that it was no trouble – no trouble —

Enter Bob, l. h. Mrs. C. advances to meet him – the Children crowd around him

Bob. There, wife, I've returned at last. Come, you have been industrious in my absence – the things will be ready before Sunday.

Mrs. C. Sunday! You went to-day, then?

Bob. Yes, my dear! I wish you could have gone – it would have done you good to see how green a place it is. But you'll see it often – I promised him I would walk there of a Sunday – my little – little child – (With much emotion.)

Mrs. C. Don't fret!

Bob. Fret! I met Mr. Scrooge's nephew just now, who, seeing that I looked a little down, asked me what had happened. Ah, he's the pleasantest spoken gentleman you ever heard – he told me he was sorry for me and for my good wife – but how he knew that I don't know!

Mrs. C. Knew what?

Bob. Why, that you were a good wife! and he was so kind – it was quite delightful! He said he'd get Peter a better situation – and, mark me, whenever we part from one another, I am sure we shall none of us forget poor Tiny Tim, shall we, or this first parting that was among us?

Omnes. Never! never! (The Children crowd around their Parents, who kiss them tenderly. A medium descends and hides the group.)

Scr. Spectre, something informs me that our parting moment is at hand – tell me, ere you quit me, what man that was whom we saw lying dead? (The Spirit points onward slowly traverses the stage.) Still he beckons me onward – there seems no order in these latter visions, save they are in the future. Through yonder gloom I can see my own dwelling – let me behold what I shall be in days to come – the house is yonder – why do you point away? Ah! that house is no longer mine – another occupies it. Ah! why is this? (The medium is worked off, and discovers.)

SCENE VII.—A Churchyard. On slab centre, is engraved "Ebenezer Scrooge."

Scr. A churchyard! Here, then, the wretched man who's name I have now to learn, lays underneath the ground! (The Spirit points to centre slab. Scrooge advances, trembling, towards it.) Before I draw nearer to the stone to which you point, answer me one question. Are these the things of the shadows that will be, or are they the shadows of the things that may be only? (The Spirit still points downward to the grave.) Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in they must lead – but if the courses be departed from the ends will change – say is it thus with what you show me? Still as immovable as ever! (Draws nearer to grave.) "Ebenezer Scrooge!" My own name! (Sinks on his knees.) Am I that man who lay upon the bed? (The Spirit points from the grave to him, and back again.) No, Spirit! Oh, no, no! (See Plate, page 150. The Figure remains immovable.) Spirit! (Clutching its robe.) Hear me! I am not the man I was – I will not be the man I must have been but for this intercourse! why show me this if I am past all hope? (The hand trembles. Scrooge sinks on his knees.) Good Spirit, your nature intercedes for me – assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life! (The hand trembles still.) I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year – I will live the past, the present, and the future – the spirits of all three shall strive within me – I will not shut out the lessons that they teach – oh tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone! (In his agony he catches the Spectre's hand – it seeks to free itself – his struggles become stronger in his despair – the Spirit repulses him – he sinks prostrate to the earth – the Spirit disappears, as the medium is worked on. Clouds roll over the stage – they are worked off, and discovers.)