by Thomas Hardy
PART THE FIFTH: CONCLUSION
CHAPTER I: 'THE KNOT THERE'S NO UNTYING'
The last day of the story is dated just subsequent to that point in thedevelopment of the seasons when country people go to bed among nearlynaked trees, are lulled to sleep by a fall of rain, and awake nextmorning among green ones; when the landscape appears embarrassed with thesudden weight and brilliancy of its leaves; when the night-jar comes andstrikes up for the summer his tune of one note; when the apple-trees havebloomed, and the roads and orchard-grass become spotted with fallenpetals; when the faces of the delicate flowers are darkened, and theirheads weighed down, by the throng of honey-bees, which increase theirhumming till humming is too mild a term for the all-pervading sound; andwhen cuckoos, blackbirds, and sparrows, that have hitherto been merry andrespectful neighbours, become noisy and persistent intimates.
The exterior of Geoffrey Day's house in Yalbury Wood appeared exactly aswas usual at that season, but a frantic barking of the dogs at the backtold of unwonted movements somewhere within. Inside the door the eyesbeheld a gathering, which was a rarity indeed for the dwelling of thesolitary wood-steward and keeper.
About the room were sitting and standing, in various gnarled attitudes,our old acquaintance, grandfathers James and William, the tranter, Mr.Penny, two or three children, including Jimmy and Charley, besides threeor four country ladies and gentlemen from a greater distance who do notrequire any distinction by name. Geoffrey was seen and heard stampingabout the outhouse and among the bushes of the garden, attending todetails of daily routine before the proper time arrived for theirperformance, in order that they might be off his hands for the day. Heappeared with his shirt-sleeves rolled up; his best new nether garments,in which he had arrayed himself that morning, being temporarily disguisedunder a weekday apron whilst these proceedings were in operation. Heoccasionally glanced at the hives in passing, to see if his wife's beeswere swarming, ultimately rolling down his shirt-sleeves and goingindoors, talking to tranter Dewy whilst buttoning the wristbands, to savetime; next going upstairs for his best waistcoat, and coming down againto make another remark whilst buttoning that, during the time lookingfixedly in the tranter's face as if he were a looking-glass.
The furniture had undergone attenuation to an alarming extent, everyduplicate piece having been removed, including the clock by Thomas Wood;Ezekiel Saunders being at last left sole referee in matters of time.
Fancy was stationary upstairs, receiving her layers of clothes andadornments, and answering by short fragments of laughter which had morefidgetiness than mirth in them, remarks that were made from time to timeby Mrs. Dewy and Mrs. Penny, who were assisting her at the toilet, Mrs.Day having pleaded a queerness in her head as a reason for shuttingherself up in an inner bedroom for the whole morning. Mrs. Pennyappeared with nine corkscrew curls on each side of her temples, and aback comb stuck upon her crown like a castle on a steep.
The conversation just now going on was concerning the banns, the lastpublication of which had been on the Sunday previous.
"And how did they sound?" Fancy subtly inquired.
"Very beautiful indeed," said Mrs. Penny. "I never heard any soundbetter."
"But how?"
"O, so natural and elegant, didn't they, Reuben!" she cried, through thechinks of the unceiled floor, to the tranter downstairs.
"What's that?" said the tranter, looking up inquiringly at the floorabove him for an answer.
"Didn't Dick and Fancy sound well when they were called home in churchlast Sunday?" came downwards again in Mrs. Penny's voice.
"Ay, that they did, my sonnies!--especially the first time. There was aterrible whispering piece of work in the congregation, wasn't there,neighbour Penny?" said the tranter, taking up the thread of conversationon his own account and, in order to be heard in the room above, speakingvery loud to Mr. Penny, who sat at the distance of three feet from him,or rather less.
"I never can mind seeing such a whispering as there was," said Mr. Penny,also loudly, to the room above. "And such sorrowful envy on the maidens'faces; really, I never did see such envy as there was!"
Fancy's lineaments varied in innumerable little flushes, and her heartpalpitated innumerable little tremors of pleasure. "But perhaps," shesaid, with assumed indifference, "it was only because no religion wasgoing on just then?"
"O, no; nothing to do with that. 'Twas because of your high standing inthe parish. It was just as if they had one and all caught Dick kissingand coling ye to death, wasn't it, Mrs. Dewy?"
"Ay; that 'twas."
"How people will talk about one's doings!" Fancy exclaimed.
"Well, if you make songs about yourself, my dear, you can't blame otherpeople for singing 'em."
"Mercy me! how shall I go through it?" said the young lady again, butmerely to those in the bedroom, with a breathing of a kind between a sighand a pant, round shining eyes, and warm face.
"O, you'll get through it well enough, child," said Mrs. Dewy placidly."The edge of the performance is took off at the calling home; and whenonce you get up to the chancel end o' the church, you feel as saucy asyou please. I'm sure I felt as brave as a sodger all through thedeed--though of course I dropped my face and looked modest, as wasbecoming to a maid. Mind you do that, Fancy."
"And I walked into the church as quiet as a lamb, I'm sure," subjoinedMrs. Penny. "There, you see Penny is such a little small man. Butcertainly, I was flurried in the inside o' me. Well, thinks I, 'tis tobe, and here goes! And do you do the same: say, ''Tis to be, and heregoes!'"
"Is there such wonderful virtue in ''Tis to be, and here goes!'" inquiredFancy.
"Wonderful! 'Twill carry a body through it all from wedding tochurching, if you only let it out with spirit enough."
"Very well, then," said Fancy, blushing. "'Tis to be, and here goes!"
"That's a girl for a husband!" said Mrs. Dewy.
"I do hope he'll come in time!" continued the bride-elect, inventing anew cause of affright, now that the other was demolished.
"'Twould be a thousand pities if he didn't come, now you be so brave,"said Mrs. Penny.
Grandfather James, having overheard some of these remarks, saiddownstairs with mischievous loudness--
"I've known some would-be weddings when the men didn't come."
"They've happened not to come, before now, certainly," said Mr. Penny,cleaning one of the glasses of his spectacles.
"O, do hear what they are saying downstairs," whispered Fancy. "Hush,hush!"
She listened.
"They have, haven't they, Geoffrey?" continued grandfather James, asGeoffrey entered.
"Have what?" said Geoffrey.
"The men have been known not to come."
"That they have," said the keeper.
"Ay; I've knowed times when the wedding had to be put off through his notappearing, being tired of the woman. And another case I knowed was whenthe man was catched in a man-trap crossing Oaker's Wood, and the threemonths had run out before he got well, and the banns had to be publishedover again."
"How horrible!" said Fancy.
"They only say it on purpose to tease 'ee, my dear," said Mrs. Dewy.
"'Tis quite sad to think what wretched shifts poor maids have been putto," came again from downstairs. "Ye should hear Clerk Wilkins, mybrother-law, tell his experiences in marrying couples these last thirtyyear: sometimes one thing, sometimes another--'tis quiteheart-rending--enough to make your hair stand on end."
"Those things don't happen very often, I know," said Fancy, withsmouldering uneasiness.
"Well, really 'tis time Dick was here," said the tranter.
"Don't keep on at me so, grandfather James and Mr. Dewy, and all you downthere!" Fancy broke out, unable to endure any longer. "I am sure I shalldie, or do something, if you do!"
"Never you hearken to these old chaps, Miss Day!" cried Nat Callcome, thebest man, who had just entered, and threw his voice upward through thechinks of the floor as the others had do
ne. "'Tis all right; Dick'scoming on like a wild feller; he'll be here in a minute. The hive o'bees his mother gie'd en for his new garden swarmed jist as he wasstarting, and he said, 'I can't afford to lose a stock o' bees; no, thatI can't, though I fain would; and Fancy wouldn't wish it on any account.'So he jist stopped to ting to 'em and shake 'em."
"A genuine wise man," said Geoffrey.
"To be sure, what a day's work we had yesterday!" Mr. Callcome continued,lowering his voice as if it were not necessary any longer to includethose in the room above among his audience, and selecting a remote cornerof his best clean handkerchief for wiping his face. "To be sure!"
"Things so heavy, I suppose," said Geoffrey, as if reading through thechimney-window from the far end of the vista.
"Ay," said Nat, looking round the room at points from which furniture hadbeen removed. "And so awkward to carry, too. 'Twas ath'art and acrossDick's garden; in and out Dick's door; up and down Dick's stairs; roundand round Dick's chammers till legs were worn to stumps: and Dick is soparticular, too. And the stores of victuals and drink that lad has laidin: why, 'tis enough for Noah's ark! I'm sure I never wish to see achoicer half-dozen of hams than he's got there in his chimley; and thecider I tasted was a very pretty drop, indeed;--none could desire aprettier cider."
"They be for the love and the stalled ox both. Ah, the greedy martels!"said grandfather James.
"Well, may-be they be. Surely," says I, "that couple between 'em haveheaped up so much furniture and victuals, that anybody would think theywere going to take hold the big end of married life first, and begin wi'a grown-up family. Ah, what a bath of heat we two chaps were in, to besure, a-getting that furniture in order!"
"I do so wish the room below was ceiled," said Fancy, as the dressingwent on "we can hear all they say and do down there."
"Hark! Who's that?" exclaimed a small pupil-teacher, who also assistedthis morning, to her great delight. She ran half-way down the stairs,and peeped round the banister. "O, you should, you should, you should!"she exclaimed, scrambling up to the room again.
"What?" said Fancy.
"See the bridesmaids! They've just a come! 'Tis wonderful, really! 'tiswonderful how muslin can be brought to it. There, they don't look a bitlike themselves, but like some very rich sisters o' theirs that nobodyknew they had!"
"Make 'em come up to me, make 'em come up!" cried Fancy ecstatically; andthe four damsels appointed, namely, Miss Susan Dewy, Miss Bessie Dewy,Miss Vashti Sniff, and Miss Mercy Onmey, surged upstairs, and floatedalong the passage.
"I wish Dick would come!" was again the burden of Fancy.
The same instant a small twig and flower from the creeper outside thedoor flew in at the open window, and a masculine voice said, "Ready,Fancy dearest?"
"There he is, he is!" cried Fancy, tittering spasmodically, and breathingas it were for the first time that morning.
The bridesmaids crowded to the window and turned their heads in thedirection pointed out, at which motion eight earrings all swung asone:--not looking at Dick because they particularly wanted to see him,but with an important sense of their duty as obedient ministers of thewill of that apotheosised being--the Bride.
"He looks very taking!" said Miss Vashti Sniff, a young lady who blushedcream-colour and wore yellow bonnet ribbons.
Dick was advancing to the door in a painfully new coat of shining cloth,primrose-coloured waistcoat, hat of the same painful style of newness,and with an extra quantity of whiskers shaved off his face, and hair cutto an unwonted shortness in honour of the occasion.
"Now, I'll run down," said Fancy, looking at herself over her shoulder inthe glass, and flitting off.
"O Dick!" she exclaimed, "I am so glad you are come! I knew you would,of course, but I thought, Oh if you shouldn't!"
"Not come, Fancy! Het or wet, blow or snow, here come I to-day! Why,what's possessing your little soul? You never used to mind such things abit."
"Ah, Mr. Dick, I hadn't hoisted my colours and committed myself then!"said Fancy.
"'Tis a pity I can't marry the whole five of ye!" said Dick, surveyingthem all round.
"Heh-heh-heh!" laughed the four bridesmaids, and Fancy privately touchedDick and smoothed him down behind his shoulder, as if to assure herselfthat he was there in flesh and blood as her own property.
"Well, whoever would have thought such a thing?" said Dick, taking offhis hat, sinking into a chair, and turning to the elder members of thecompany.
The latter arranged their eyes and lips to signify that in their opinionnobody could have thought such a thing, whatever it was.
"That my bees should ha' swarmed just then, of all times and seasons!"continued Dick, throwing a comprehensive glance like a net over the wholeauditory. "And 'tis a fine swarm, too: I haven't seen such a fine swarmfor these ten years."
"A' excellent sign," said Mrs. Penny, from the depths of experience. "A'excellent sign."
"I am glad everything seems so right," said Fancy with a breath ofrelief.
"And so am I," said the four bridesmaids with much sympathy.
"Well, bees can't be put off," observed the inharmonious grandfatherJames. "Marrying a woman is a thing you can do at any moment; but aswarm o' bees won't come for the asking."
Dick fanned himself with his hat. "I can't think," he said thoughtfully,"whatever 'twas I did to offend Mr. Maybold, a man I like so much too. Herather took to me when he came first, and used to say he should like tosee me married, and that he'd marry me, whether the young woman I choselived in his parish or no. I just hinted to him of it when I put in thebanns, but he didn't seem to take kindly to the notion now, and so I saidno more. I wonder how it was."
"I wonder!" said Fancy, looking into vacancy with those beautiful eyes ofhers--too refined and beautiful for a tranter's wife; but, perhaps, nottoo good.
"Altered his mind, as folks will, I suppose," said the tranter. "Well,my sonnies, there'll be a good strong party looking at us to-day as we goalong."
"And the body of the church," said Geoffrey, "will be lined with females,and a row of young fellers' heads, as far down as the eyes, will benoticed just above the sills of the chancel-winders."
"Ay, you've been through it twice," said Reuben, "and well mid know."
"I can put up with it for once," said Dick, "or twice either, or a dozentimes."
"O Dick!" said Fancy reproachfully.
"Why, dear, that's nothing,--only just a bit of a flourish. You be asnervous as a cat to-day."
"And then, of course, when 'tis all over," continued the tranter, "weshall march two and two round the parish."
"Yes, sure," said Mr. Penny: "two and two: every man hitched up to hiswoman, 'a b'lieve."
"I never can make a show of myself in that way!" said Fancy, looking atDick to ascertain if he could.
"I'm agreed to anything you and the company like, my dear!" said Mr.Richard Dewy heartily.
"Why, we did when we were married, didn't we, Ann?" said the tranter;"and so do everybody, my sonnies."
"And so did we," said Fancy's father.
"And so did Penny and I," said Mrs. Penny: "I wore my best Bath clogs, Iremember, and Penny was cross because it made me look so tall."
"And so did father and mother," said Miss Mercy Onmey.
"And I mean to, come next Christmas!" said Nat the groomsman vigorously,and looking towards the person of Miss Vashti Sniff.
"Respectable people don't nowadays," said Fancy. "Still, since poormother did, I will."
"Ay," resumed the tranter, "'twas on a White Tuesday when I committed it.Mellstock Club walked the same day, and we new-married folk went a-gayinground the parish behind 'em. Everybody used to wear something white atWhitsuntide in them days. My sonnies, I've got the very white trousersthat I wore, at home in box now. Ha'n't I, Ann?"
"You had till I cut 'em up for Jimmy," said Mrs. Dewy.
"And we ought, by rights, after doing this parish, to go round Higher andLower Mellstock, and call at Vi
ney's, and so work our way hither againacross He'th," said Mr. Penny, recovering scent of the matter in hand."Dairyman Viney is a very respectable man, and so is Farmer Kex, and weought to show ourselves to them."
"True," said the tranter, "we ought to go round Mellstock to do the thingwell. We shall form a very striking object walking along in rotation,good-now, neighbours?"
"That we shall: a proper pretty sight for the nation," said Mrs. Penny.
"Hullo!" said the tranter, suddenly catching sight of a singular humanfigure standing in the doorway, and wearing a long smock-frock of pillow-case cut and of snowy whiteness. "Why, Leaf! whatever dost thou dohere?"
"I've come to know if so be I can come to the wedding--hee-hee!" saidLeaf in a voice of timidity.
"Now, Leaf," said the tranter reproachfully, "you know we don't want 'eehere to-day: we've got no room for ye, Leaf."
"Thomas Leaf, Thomas Leaf, fie upon ye for prying!" said old William.
"I know I've got no head, but I thought, if I washed and put on a claneshirt and smock-frock, I might just call," said Leaf, turning awaydisappointed and trembling.
"Poor feller!" said the tranter, turning to Geoffrey. "Suppose we mustlet en come? His looks are rather against en, and he is terrible silly;but 'a have never been in jail, and 'a won't do no harm."
Leaf looked with gratitude at the tranter for these praises, and thenanxiously at Geoffrey, to see what effect they would have in helping hiscause.
"Ay, let en come," said Geoffrey decisively. "Leaf, th'rt welcome, 'stknow;" and Leaf accordingly remained.
They were now all ready for leaving the house, and began to form aprocession in the following order: Fancy and her father, Dick and SusanDewy, Nat Callcome and Vashti Sniff, Ted Waywood and Mercy Onmey, andJimmy and Bessie Dewy. These formed the executive, and all appeared instrict wedding attire. Then came the tranter and Mrs. Dewy, and last ofall Mr. and Mrs. Penny;--the tranter conspicuous by his enormous gloves,size eleven and three-quarters, which appeared at a distance like boxinggloves bleached, and sat rather awkwardly upon his brown hands; this hall-mark of respectability having been set upon himself to-day (by Fancy'sspecial request) for the first time in his life.
"The proper way is for the bridesmaids to walk together," suggestedFancy.
"What? 'Twas always young man and young woman, arm in crook, in mytime!" said Geoffrey, astounded.
"And in mine!" said the tranter.
"And in ours!" said Mr. and Mrs. Penny.
"Never heard o' such a thing as woman and woman!" said old William; who,with grandfather James and Mrs. Day, was to stay at home.
"Whichever way you and the company like, my dear!" said Dick, who, beingon the point of securing his right to Fancy, seemed willing to renounceall other rights in the world with the greatest pleasure. The decisionwas left to Fancy.
"Well, I think I'd rather have it the way mother had it," she said, andthe couples moved along under the trees, every man to his maid.
"Ah!" said grandfather James to grandfather William as they retired, "Iwonder which she thinks most about, Dick or her wedding raiment!"
"Well, 'tis their nature," said grandfather William. "Remember the wordsof the prophet Jeremiah: 'Can a maid forget her ornaments, or a bride herattire?'"
Now among dark perpendicular firs, like the shafted columns of acathedral; now through a hazel copse, matted with primroses and wildhyacinths; now under broad beeches in bright young leaves they threadedtheir way into the high road over Yalbury Hill, which dipped at thatpoint directly into the village of Geoffrey Day's parish; and in thespace of a quarter of an hour Fancy found herself to be Mrs. RichardDewy, though, much to her surprise, feeling no other than Fancy Daystill.
On the circuitous return walk through the lanes and fields, amid muchchattering and laughter, especially when they came to stiles, Dickdiscerned a brown spot far up a turnip field.
"Why, 'tis Enoch!" he said to Fancy. "I thought I missed him at thehouse this morning. How is it he's left you?"
"He drank too much cider, and it got into his head, and they put him inWeatherbury stocks for it. Father was obliged to get somebody else for aday or two, and Enoch hasn't had anything to do with the woods since."
"We might ask him to call down to-night. Stocks are nothing for once,considering 'tis our wedding day." The bridal party was ordered to halt.
"Eno-o-o-o-ch!" cried Dick at the top of his voice.
"Y-a-a-a-a-a-as!" said Enoch from the distance.
"D'ye know who I be-e-e-e-e-e?"
"No-o-o-o-o-o-o!"
"Dick Dew-w-w-w-wy!"
"O-h-h-h-h-h!"
"Just a-ma-a-a-a-a-arried!"
"O-h-h-h-h-h!"
"This is my wife, Fa-a-a-a-a-ancy!" (holding her up to Enoch's view as ifshe had been a nosegay.)
"O-h-h-h-h-h!"
"Will ye come across to the party to-ni-i-i-i-i-i-ight!"
"Ca-a-a-a-a-an't!"
"Why n-o-o-o-o-ot?"
"Don't work for the family no-o-o-o-ow!"
"Not nice of Master Enoch," said Dick, as they resumed their walk.
"You mustn't blame en," said Geoffrey; "the man's not hisself now; he'sin his morning frame of mind. When he's had a gallon o' cider or ale, ora pint or two of mead, the man's well enough, and his manners be as goodas anybody's in the kingdom."
