Oh, the strong eyes, and the weak frame! The eyes that turned so eagerly and brightly to the door when Harriet came in; the feeble head that could not raise itself, and moved so slowly round upon its pillow!
'Alice!' said the visitor's mild voice, 'am I late to-night?'
'You always seem late, but are always early.'
Harriet had sat down by the bedside now, and put her hand upon the thin hand lying there.
'You are better?'
Mrs Wickam, standing at the foot of the bed, like a disconsolate spectre, most decidedly and forcibly shook her head to negative this position.
'It matters very little!' said Alice, with a faint smile. 'Better or worse to-day, is but a day's difference - perhaps not so much.'
Mrs Wickam, as a serious character, expressed her approval with a groan; and having made some cold dabs at the bottom of the bedclothes, as feeling for the patient's feet and expecting to find them stony; went clinking among the medicine bottles on the table, as who should say, 'while we are here, let us repeat the mixture as before.'
'No,' said Alice, whispering to her visitor, 'evil courses, and remorse, travel, want, and weather, storm within, and storm without, have worn my life away. It will not last much longer.
She drew the hand up as she spoke, and laid her face against it.
'I lie here, sometimes, thinking I should like to live until I had had a little time to show you how grateful I could be! It is a weakness, and soon passes. Better for you as it is. Better for me!'
How different her hold upon the hand, from what it had been when she took it by the fireside on the bleak winter evening! Scorn, rage, defiance, recklessness, look here! This is the end.
Mrs Wickam having clinked sufficiently among the bottles, now produced the mixture. Mrs Wickam looked hard at her patient in the act of drinking, screwed her mouth up tight, her eyebrows also, and shook her head, expressing that tortures shouldn't make her say it was a hopeless case. Mrs Wickam then sprinkled a little cooling-stuff about the room, with the air of a female grave-digger, who was strewing ashes on ashes, dust on dust - for she was a serious character - and withdrew to partake of certain funeral baked meats downstairs.
'How long is it,' asked Alice, 'since I went to you and told you what I had done, and when you were advised it was too late for anyone to follow?'
'It is a year and more,' said Harriet.
'A year and more,' said Alice, thoughtfully intent upon her face. 'Months upon months since you brought me here!'
Harriet answered 'Yes.'
'Brought me here, by force of gentleness and kindness. Me!' said Alice, shrinking with her face behind her hand, 'and made me human by woman's looks and words, and angel's deeds!'
Harriet bending over her, composed and soothed her. By and bye, Alice lying as before, with the hand against her face, asked to have her mother called.
Harriet called to her more than once, but the old woman was so absorbed looking out at the open window on the darkness, that she did not hear. It was not until Harriet went to her and touched her, that she rose up, and came.
'Mother,' said Alice, taking the hand again, and fixing her lustrous eyes lovingly upon her visitor, while she merely addressed a motion of her finger to the old woman, 'tell her what you know.'
'To-night, my deary?'
'Ay, mother,' answered Alice, faintly and solemnly, 'to-night!'
The old woman, whose wits appeared disorderly by alarm, remorse, or grief, came creeping along the side of the bed, opposite to that on which Harriet sat; and kneeling down, so as to bring her withered face upon a level with the coverlet, and stretching out her hand, so as to touch her daughter's arm, began:
'My handsome gal - '
Heaven, what a cry was that, with which she stopped there, gazing at the poor form lying on the bed!
'Changed, long ago, mother! Withered, long ago,' said Alice, without looking at her. 'Don't grieve for that now.
'My daughter,' faltered the old woman, 'my gal who'll soon get better, and shame 'em all with her good looks.'
Alice smiled mournfully at Harriet, and fondled her hand a little closer, but said nothing.
'Who'll soon get better, I say,' repeated the old woman, menacing the vacant air with her shrivelled fist, 'and who'll shame 'em all with her good looks - she will. I say she will! she shall!' - as if she were in passionate contention with some unseen opponent at the bedside, who contradicted her - 'my daughter has been turned away from, and cast out, but she could boast relationship to proud folks too, if she chose. Ah! To proud folks! There's relationship without your clergy and your wedding rings - they may make it, but they can't break it - and my daughter's well related. Show me Mrs Dombey, and I'll show you my Alice's first cousin.'
Harriet glanced from the old woman to the lustrous eyes intent upon her face, and derived corroboration from them.
'What!' cried the old woman, her nodding head bridling with a ghastly vanity. 'Though I am old and ugly now, - much older by life and habit than years though, - I was once as young as any. Ah! as pretty too, as many! I was a fresh country wench in my time, darling,' stretching out her arm to Harriet, across the bed, 'and looked it, too. Down in my country, Mrs Dombey's father and his brother were the gayest gentlemen and the best-liked that came a visiting from London - they have long been dead, though! Lord, Lord, this long while! The brother, who was my Ally's father, longest of the two.'
She raised her head a little, and peered at her daughter's face; as if from the remembrance of her own youth, she had flown to the remembrance of her child's. Then, suddenly, she laid her face down on the bed, and shut her head up in her hands and arms.
'They were as like,' said the old woman, without looking up, as you could see two brothers, so near an age - there wasn't much more than a year between them, as I recollect - and if you could have seen my gal, as I have seen her once, side by side with the other's daughter, you'd have seen, for all the difference of dress and life, that they were like each other. Oh! is the likeness gone, and is it my gal - only my gal - that's to change so!'
'We shall all change, mother, in our turn,' said Alice.
'Turn!' cried the old woman, 'but why not hers as soon as my gal's! The mother must have changed - she looked as old as me, and full as wrinkled through her paint - but she was handsome. What have I done, I, what have I done worse than her, that only my gal is to lie there fading!' With another of those wild cries, she went running out into the room from which she had come; but immediately, in her uncertain mood, returned, and creeping up to Harriet, said:
'That's what Alice bade me tell you, deary. That's all. I found it out when I began to ask who she was, and all about her, away in Warwickshire there, one summer-time. Such relations was no good to me, then. They wouldn't have owned me, and had nothing to give me. I should have asked 'em, maybe, for a little money, afterwards, if it hadn't been for my Alice; she'd a'most have killed me, if I had, I think She was as proud as t'other in her way,' said the old woman, touching the face of her daughter fearfully, and withdrawing her hand, 'for all she's so quiet now; but she'll shame 'em with her good looks yet. Ha, ha! She'll shame 'em, will my handsome daughter!'
Her laugh, as she retreated, was worse than her cry; worse than the burst of imbecile lamentation in which it ended; worse than the doting air with which she sat down in her old seat, and stared out at the darkness.
The eyes of Alice had all this time been fixed on Harriet, whose hand she had never released. She said now:
'I have felt, lying here, that I should like you to know this. It might explain, I have thought, something that used to help to harden me. I had heard so much, in my wrongdoing, of my neglected duty, that I took up with the belief that duty had not been done to me, and that as the seed was sown, the harvest grew. I somehow made it out that when ladies had bad homes and mothers, they went wrong in their way, too; but that their way was not so foul a one as mine, and they had need to bless God for it.' That is all past. It is like a dream, now, which I cannot quite remember or understand. It has been more and more like a dream, every day, since you began to sit here, and to read to me. I only tell it you, as I can recollect it. Will you read to me a little more?'
Harriet was withdrawing her hand to open the book, when Alice detained it for a moment.
'You will not forget my mother? I forgive her, if I have any cause. I know that she forgives me, and is sorry in her heart. You will not forget her?'
'Never, Alice!'
'A moment yet. Lay your head so, dear, that as you read I may see the words in your kind face.'
Harriet complied and read - read the eternal book for all the weary, and the heavy-laden; for all the wretched, fallen, and neglected of this earth - read the blessed history, in which the blind lame palsied beggar, the criminal, the woman stained with shame, the shunned of all our dainty clay, has each a portion, that no human pride, indifference, or sophistry, through all the ages that this world shall last, can take away, or by the thousandth atom of a grain reduce - read the ministry of Him who, through the round of human life, and all its hopes and griefs, from birth to death, from infancy to age, had sweet compassion for, and interest in, its every scene and stage, its every suffering and sorrow.
'I shall come,' said Harriet, when she shut the book, 'very early in the morning.'
The lustrous eyes, yet fixed upon her face, closed for a moment, then opened; and Alice kissed and blest her.
The same eyes followed her to the door; and in their light, and on the tranquil face, there was a smile when it was closed.
They never turned away. She laid her hand upon her breast, murmuring the sacred name that had been read to her; and life passed from her face, like light removed.
Nothing lay there, any longer, but the ruin of the mortal house on which the rain had beaten, and the black hair that had fluttered in the wintry wind.
海洋在整个一年中周而复始地涨潮和退潮。在整个一年中，时间在暴风雨和阳光中完成它那无休无止的工作。在整个一年中，人类盛衰变化的潮水按照它们规定的路程流动着。在整个一年中，名声赫赫的董贝父子公司跟不幸的意外事件、可疑的谣传、不成功的冒险交易、不吉利的时间，特别是跟它老板的昏头昏脑，进行了生死的斗争；因为他丝毫不愿收缩公司经营的业务，并且听不进一个字的警告：他迎着暴风雨、不顾一切、强迫行驶的船是不牢固的，它经受不住暴风雨的袭击。
一年过去了，这个宏伟的公司倒闭了。
这是夏天的一个下午；在这座城市的教堂中举行婚礼以后差几天就满一年了；人们在交易所里开始嘁嘁喳喳、交头接耳地谈论这场大破产。某个冷漠的、高傲的、在那里众所周知的人不在那里，也没有派代表到那里。第二天，到处都闹哄哄地风传着这个消息：董贝父子公司已经停止营业；这天晚上报纸上发表了一批破产者的名单，这个公司名列首位。
现在这个社会确实十分忙碌，并且有许多话要说。这是个天真地轻信的社会，而且是个被大大地糟蹋了的社会。在这个社会中，没有任何其他种类的破产。在这个社会中，没有显赫的人物广泛地从事宗教、爱国主义、道德、荣誉的腐败的投机买卖。在这个社会中，没有数量值得一提的流通纸币，有些人能靠它们生活得很好，并出于善意许诺大量支付金钱但却口惠而实不至。在这个社会中，不论在什么地方，除了金钱之外，没有任何缺点。这个社会确实是很愤怒的；大家看到这个社会的人们，特别是那些在一个更坏的社会中他们自己可能在卖弄色相和虚伪做作方面是些破产的经营者的人们，现在极为愤怒。
信差珀奇先生，这位听随形势摆弄的人物，又有了个酗酒行乐的新的诱因了！珀奇先生经常醒来的时候发现自己出了名①，这显然是他命中注定的。私奔及随后发生的事件使他名噪一时，人们可以说，他昨天刚刚才转入平静的个人生活，而现在由于公司破产，他又成了比过去任何时候更为重要的人物了。珀奇先生现在坐在外面的办公室中的托架上，注视着会计以及其他人们（他们很快取代了原先几乎所有的职员）的陌生的脸孔；当他从托架上悄悄地下来，只要在外面的院子里，最远在“国王的纹章”酒吧间里一露面，就会被人们问上一大堆问题；在这些问题中几乎肯定地总要包含这样一个有趣的问题：他想喝什么？然后珀奇先生就开始详详细细地谈到他和珀奇太太在鲍尔斯池塘的那些忧虑不安的时刻，那时候他们第一次猜疑“事情变糟糕了”。然后，仿佛公司的死尸就停放在隔壁房间里似的，珀奇先生用很低的对目瞪口呆的听众谈到珀奇太太第一次听到他在睡梦中哼叫道，“一英镑值十二个先令九便士，一英镑值十二个先令九便士！②，那时她就猜疑变糟糕了。他认为，他这种讲梦话的行为追根溯源是由于董贝先生脸部的表情变化给他留下的印象所产生的。然后他告诉他们，他有一次曾经问董贝先生，“先生，我可以冒昧地问一句吗，您的心情是不是不快活？”董贝先生回答道，“我的忠心耿耿的珀奇——不过不，我不会不快活的！”他一边说，一边用手敲敲前额，说，“您走吧，珀奇！”然后，总而言之，这位成为他的地位的牺牲品的珀奇先生就会讲出形形色色的谎话，那些动人的故事把他自己都感动得簌簌落泪；他真心相信，昨天捏造的胡言乱语今天重复一遍，就好像成了真实的了。
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①这里引用英国浪漫主义诗人乔治•戈登•拜伦（GeorgeGordonByron，1788—1924）的一句名言。拜伦在他的长诗《查尔德•哈洛德游记》（ChideHarold’spilgrimage）第一、二两章问世后，立刻名扬四方，因此他在日记里这样写道：“我一个早晨醒来就发现自己成了名。”
②一英镑本应值十二个先令。
珀奇先生在结束这种聚会时，总是温和地说道，“当然，不论他们过去可能有过什么怀疑（仿佛他真有过什么怀疑似的！），他总是不该辜负他的信任的，是不是？他的这种心情给他的感情带来很大的荣誉（听众当中没有一个是债权人）。因此，当他离开他们回到办公室去的时候，自己的良心总是得到了安慰，而且在人们心中总是留下了良好的印象；他就这样回到他的托架中，重新坐下来注视着会计和其他人们的陌生的脸孔，看他们随随便便地翻阅着那些包含着极大机密的帐册；或者他就踮着脚，走进董贝先生的空荡荡的房间，拨拨煤火；或者到门口去透透新鲜空气，跟偶尔到这里来走走的熟人伤心地聊上几句；或者向会计长献上各种小殷勤来取得他的好感，因为珀奇先生指望在董贝父子公司事务结束之后，会计长能帮助他在火灾保险公司里谋求一个信差的职务。
对白格斯托克少校来说，破产是真正的灾难。少校并不是一位富于同情心的人——他的注意力完全集中在乔•白身上——，除了喘气和呼吸困难这些生理方面的表现以外，他在其他方面也不是个易于感情冲动的人。可是他过去在俱乐部里那么夸耀他的朋友董贝，在其他成员面前对他那么大吹大擂，又是那么不断地宣扬他的财富来把他们压下去，因此俱乐部里的这些人（他们毕竟也是人哪！）现在都幸灾乐祸地对少校进行报复；他们装出极为关切的神情，问他，这样可怕的沉重打击他可曾事先预料到，他的朋友董贝又是怎样忍受它的呢。对这些问题，少校脸孔涨成深紫色，回答道，总的说来，我们是生活在一个很坏的世界上；乔稍稍懂得一些，可是他上当受骗了，先生，就像一个婴儿一样上当受骗了；如果当乔•白格斯托克跟董贝到国外去，在法国到处追寻那个流氓的时候，您向他作出这种预言的话，那么乔•白格斯托克是会“呸！呸！”地讥笑您的——我敢向天主发誓，先生，他是会“呸！呸！”地讥笑您的！乔被欺骗了，先生，被愚弄了，被蒙蔽了，被包上眼睛了，可是现在他又完全清醒过来，睁开眼睛，留神看了。先生，如果乔的父亲明天从坟墓里爬起来的话，那么他也不会赊给这位老击剑师一个便士的，而会对他说，他的儿子乔是个很老的军人，不会再受骗了，先生。他现在是个多疑的、乖戾的、古怪的、筋疲力尽的异教徒乔•白，先生；如果退隐到一个桶里居住是符合一位从老学校中训练出来的一位粗鲁和坚强的老少校的尊严的话（他本人曾荣幸地认识已故的肯特郡和约克郡的公爵殿下，并受到过他们的赞扬），那么，可以向上帝发誓！先生，他明天就会坐在帕尔•马尔街的桶里，来显示他对人类的鄙视了！①
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①指希腊犬儒派哲学家戴奥吉尼斯（公无前412？—323年）。犬儒学派是希腊的一个哲学派别，它强调禁欲主义的自我满足，放弃舒适的环境。戴奥吉尼斯是这个学派的典型人物，号召人们回复简朴的自然的生活；据说他有一段时间是住在一个桶里的。帕尔•马尔（PallMall）是伦敦中心的一条街，居住在这里的都是上流社会人士。
少校发表所有的这些谈话以及许多诸如此类的谈话时，总是显示出易患中风症的症状，总是使劲地摇晃着脑袋，激烈地发泄出他的委屈与愤怒，所以俱乐部里年轻的成员们都猜测他曾在他的朋友董贝的公司里投了资，如今遭受了损失；可是那些对乔了解较多的、年纪较老的军人和阅世较深的老滑头们却不相信这一点。倒霉的本地人没有提出过任何意见，但却吃尽了可怕的苦头；不仅在精神方面，每天每个钟头都要受到少校连珠炮似的责骂，而且在身体方面，他也一直处于紧张状态，不是被打痛，就是被撞伤。在董贝父子公司破产以后整整六个星期中，脱靴器和刷子不时像雨点似地落在这位可怜的外国人的身上。
奇克夫人对这场可怕的翻天覆地的变化有三个想法。首先是，她不能理解这件事。第二是，她的哥哥没有作出应有的努力。第三是，在举行第一次晚会的那一天，如果她被邀请参加宴会的话，那么就决不会发生这样的事情，这一点她当时就这样说过。
不论是谁，对这场灾难所发表的意见，都不能阻止它，减轻它或使它加重。人们得知，公司本应当在最有利的情况下结束营业的，但董贝先生却自愿放弃他的一切财产，而不请求任何人施予恩惠。人们得知，恢复公司业务的问题根本谈不上了，因为任何以互相让步为目的的友好协商他都不愿意听取；他过去作为商业界受尊敬的一个人，曾经担任过一些负责的和荣誉的职务，现在他把所有这些职务全都辞退了；据有些人说，他快要死了；据另一些人说，他忧伤得要发疯；据所有的人说，他是个心灰意冷的人。
公司的职员们举行了一个小小的表示哀伤的宴会，宴会上由于有滑稽逗趣的歌唱，所以气氛活跃，进行得很好。在这之后，大家就分道扬镳，各奔四方了。有些人到国外工作；有些人在国内其他公司中任职；有些人突然记起了他们有深厚感情的乡下亲戚，就动身去看望他们；有些人则在报纸上刊登求职广告。在原先的职工中，只有珀奇先生一个人还留下来，坐在托架上看着会计们，或从托架上跳下来，去巴结那位能帮他到火灾保险公司谋求职务的会计长。办公室很快就变得肮脏起来，无人照管。如果这时候董贝先生来到这里的话，那么在院子角落里出售拖鞋和狗颈圈的主要商人心里就会琢磨，现在再像过去那样把食指举到帽檐行礼是否合适了；搬运员把手藏在白围裙下面，发表了规劝人们不要有野心的讲话；在他看来，英文中野心（ambition）与毁灭（perdicBtion）这两个词是押韵的，这不是没有道理。
莫芬先生这位眼睛淡褐色、头发与连鬓胡子稍稍有些斑白的单身汉，也许是公司核心圈的人物中，唯一为降临的灾难由衷地、深切地感到悲痛的人（公司的老板当然除外）。在许多年中，他以应有的恭敬与尊重对待董贝先生，但是他从来不曾掩饰过自己的本性，从来不曾卑鄙地向他谄媚过，或者为了达到个人的目的而纵容过他的欲望。所以他没有因为过去自卑自贱而现在来寻求报复；没有像长久被绷紧的弹簧那样，在放松之后迅速地弹回去一下。他起早贪黑地工作，来查明公司业务中各种复杂或困难的帐目；他总是到场解释需要解释的情况；有时他深夜还坐在以前的房间中研究问题，他把问题研究清楚了就可以不必再向董贝先生本人查问，要求他来作出痛苦的说明；然后他回到伊斯林顿的家中，在睡觉前拿出大提琴，拉出极为忧郁、凄凉的曲调，来使心情平静下来。
有一天晚上，他正在用这音调优美、倾诉哀愁的乐器来安慰自己；因为白天发生的事情使他感到十分沮丧，所以他拉出极为深沉的声调来消除忧伤，这时候房东太太前来通报说，有一位女士来到。（房东太太很幸运是个聋子，她对这些音乐演奏除了觉得像有什么东西在骨头里隆隆作响之外，没有什么别的感觉。）
