Speaker 1: Chapter fifty nine of Great Expectations. This is a LibriVox recording.
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Speaker 1: recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. Great
Speaker 1: Expectations by Charles Dickens, Chapter fifty nine, the final chapter.
Speaker 1: For eleven years, I have not seen Joe nor Biddy
Speaker 1: with my bodily eyes, though they had both been often
Speaker 1: before my fancy in the east. When upon an evening
Speaker 1: in December, an hour or two after dark, I laid
Speaker 1: my hands softly on the latch of the old kitchen door.
Speaker 1: I touched it so softly that I was not heard,
Speaker 1: and looked in unseen, there smoking his pipe in the
Speaker 1: old place, by the kitchen firelight as hale and as
Speaker 1: strong as ever, though a little gray sat Joe. And there,
Speaker 1: fenced into the corner with Joe's leg, and sitting on
Speaker 1: my own little stool, looking at the fire, was I again.
Speaker 1: We give him the name of Pip for your sake,
Speaker 1: dear old Chap, said Joe, delighted when I took another
Speaker 1: stool by the child's side. But I did not rumple
Speaker 1: his hair, and we hoped he might grow a little
Speaker 1: bit like you.
Speaker 2: And we think he do.
Speaker 1: I thought so too, and I took him out for
Speaker 1: a walk next morning, and we talked immensely, understanding one
Speaker 1: another to perfection. And I took him down to the
Speaker 1: churchyard and set him on a certain tombstone there, and
Speaker 1: he showed me from that elevation which stone was sacred
Speaker 1: to the memory of Philip Pirrip late of this parish,
Speaker 1: and also Georgiana, wife of the above. Biddy said I
Speaker 1: when I talked with her after dinner, as her little
Speaker 1: girl lay sleeping in her lap, You must give Pip
Speaker 1: to me one of these days, or lend him at
Speaker 1: all events. No, no, said Biddy gently. You must marry
Speaker 1: so Herbert and Clara say, but I don't think I shall, Biddy,
Speaker 1: I have so settled down in their home that it's
Speaker 1: not at all likely. I'm already quite an old bachelor.
Speaker 1: Biddy looked down at her child and put its little
Speaker 1: hand to her lips, and then put the good matronly
Speaker 1: hand with which she had touched it into mine. There
Speaker 1: was something in the action, and in the light pressure
Speaker 1: of Biddy's wedding ring that had a very pretty eloquence
Speaker 1: in it. Dear Pip said, Biddy, you are sure you
Speaker 1: don't fret for her? Oh no, I think not, Biddy.
Speaker 1: Tell me, as an old old friend, have you quite
Speaker 1: forgotten her? My dear Biddy, I have forgotten nothing in
Speaker 1: my life that ever had a foremost place there, and
Speaker 1: little that ever had any place there. But that poor dream,
Speaker 1: as I once used to call it, has all gone by, Biddy,
Speaker 1: all gone by. Nevertheless, I knew while I said those words,
Speaker 1: that I secretly intended to revisit the side of the
Speaker 1: old house that evening alone for her sake. Yes, even so,
Speaker 1: for Estella's sake. I had heard of her as leading
Speaker 1: a most unhappy life, and as being separated from her husband,
Speaker 1: who had used her with great cruelty, and who had
Speaker 1: become quite renowned as a compound of pride, avarice, brutality,
Speaker 1: and mean And I had heard of the death of
Speaker 1: her husband from an accident consequent on his ill troapment
Speaker 1: of a horse. This release had befallen her some two
Speaker 1: years before. For anything, I knew she was married again.
Speaker 1: The early dinner hour at Joe's left me in abundance
Speaker 1: of time without hurrying my talk with Biddy to walk
Speaker 1: over to the old spot before dark. But what with
Speaker 1: loitering on the way to look at old objects and
Speaker 1: to think of old times, The day had quite declined
Speaker 1: when I came to the place. There was no house now,
Speaker 1: no brewery, no building whatever left but the wall of
Speaker 1: the old garden. The cleared space had been enclosed with
Speaker 1: a rough fence, and looking over it, I saw that
Speaker 1: some of the old ivy had struck root anew and
Speaker 1: was growing green on low, quiet mounds of Ruin a
Speaker 1: gate in the fence, standing ajar, I pushed it open
Speaker 1: and went in. A cold, silvery mist had veiled the afternoon,
Speaker 1: and the moon was not yet up to scatter it.
Speaker 1: But the stars were shining beyond the mist, and the
Speaker 1: moon was coming, and the evening was not dark. I
Speaker 1: could trace out where every part of the old house
Speaker 1: had been, and where the brewery had been, and where
Speaker 1: the gates and where the casks. I had done so,
Speaker 1: and was looking along the desolate garden walk when I
Speaker 1: beheld a solitary figure in it. The figure showed itself
Speaker 1: aware of me as I advanced. It had been moving
Speaker 1: towards me, but it stood still. As I drew nearer.
Speaker 1: I saw it to be the figure of a woman.
Speaker 1: As I drew nearer, yet it was about to turn
Speaker 1: away when it stopped and let me come up with it.
Speaker 1: Then it faltered, as if much surprise, and uttered my name,
Speaker 1: and I cried out, Estella, I am greatly changed. I
Speaker 1: wonder you knew me. The freshness of her beauty was
Speaker 1: indeed gone, but its indescribable majesty and its indescribable charm remained.
Speaker 1: Those attractions in it I had seen before. What I
Speaker 1: had never seen before was the saddened, softened light of
Speaker 1: the once proud eyes. What I had never felt before
Speaker 1: was the friendly touch of the once insensible hand. We
Speaker 1: sat down on a bench that was near, and I said,
Speaker 1: after so many years, it is strange that we should
Speaker 1: thus meet again, Estella, here where our first meeting was.
Speaker 1: Do you often come back? I have never been here since.
Speaker 2: Nor I.
Speaker 1: The moon began to rise, and I thought of the
Speaker 1: placid look at the white ceiling which had passed away.
Speaker 1: The moon began to rise, and I thought of the
Speaker 1: pressure on my hand when I had spoken the last
Speaker 1: words he had heard on earth. Estella was the next
Speaker 1: to break the silence that.
Speaker 2: Ensued between us.
Speaker 1: I have very often hoped and intended to come back,
Speaker 1: but have been prevented by many circumstances. Poor, poor old place.
Speaker 1: The silvery mist was touched with the first rays of
Speaker 1: the moonlight, and the same rays touched the tears that
Speaker 1: dropped from her eyes. Not knowing that I saw them,
Speaker 1: and setting herself to get the better of them, she
Speaker 1: said quietly. Were you wondering, as you walked along how
Speaker 1: it came to be left in this condition? Yes, Estella,
Speaker 1: the ground belongs to me. It is the only possession
Speaker 1: I have not relinquished. Everything else has gone from me
Speaker 1: little by little, but I have kept this. It was
Speaker 1: the subject of the only determined resistance I made in
Speaker 1: all the wretched years. Is it to be built on?
Speaker 2: At last? It is?
Speaker 1: I came here to take leave of it before its change.
Speaker 1: And you, she said, in a voice of touching interest
Speaker 1: to a wanderer, you live abroad still still and do well.
Speaker 1: I am sure. I worked pretty hard for a sufficient living,
Speaker 1: and therefore, yes I do well. I have often thought
Speaker 1: of you, said Estella, have you.
Speaker 2: Of late?
Speaker 1: Very often? There was a long hard time when I
Speaker 1: kept far from me The remembrance of what I had
Speaker 1: thrown away when I was quite ignorant of it's worth.
Speaker 1: But since my duty has not been incompatible with the
Speaker 1: admission of that remembrance, I have given it a place
Speaker 1: in my heart. You have always held your place in
Speaker 1: my heart, I answered, and we were silent again until
Speaker 1: she spoke. I little thought, said Estella, that I should
Speaker 1: take leave of you. In taking leave of the spot,
Speaker 1: I am very glad to do so, glad to part again, Estella.
Speaker 1: To me, parting is a painful thing to me. The
Speaker 1: remembrance of our last parting has been ever mournful and painful.
Speaker 1: But you said to me, returned Estella, very earnestly. God
Speaker 1: bless you, God forgive you. And if you could say
Speaker 1: that to me, then you will not hesitate to say
Speaker 1: that to me now, now, when suffering has been stronger
Speaker 1: than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand
Speaker 1: what your heart used to be. I have been bent
Speaker 1: and broken, but I hope into a better shape. Be
Speaker 1: as considerate and good to me as you were, and
Speaker 1: tell me we are friends. We are friends, said I,
Speaker 1: rising and bending over her as she rose from the bench.
Speaker 1: And will continue friends.
Speaker 2: Apart said Estella.
Speaker 1: I took her hand in mine, and we went out
Speaker 1: of the ruined place. And as the morning miss had
Speaker 1: risen long ago when I first left the forge, so
Speaker 1: the evening mists were rising now. And in all the
Speaker 1: broad expanse of tranquil light they showed to me, I
Speaker 1: saw no shadow of another parting from.
Speaker 2: Her end of chapter, end of book. Thank you for listening,