Speaker 1: Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, chapter fifty six. He lay
Speaker 1: in prison very ill during the whole interval between his
Speaker 1: committal for trial and the coming round of the sessions.
Speaker 1: He had broken two ribs, they had wounded one of
Speaker 1: his lungs, and he breathed with great pain and difficulty,
Speaker 1: which increased daily. It was a consequence of his hurt
Speaker 1: that he spoke so low as to be scarcely audible.
Speaker 1: Therefore he spoke very little, but he was ever ready
Speaker 1: to listen to me, and it became the first duty
Speaker 1: of my life to say to him and read to
Speaker 1: him what I knew he ought to hear. Being far
Speaker 1: too ill to remain in the common prison, he was
Speaker 1: removed after the first day or so into the infirmary.
Speaker 1: This gave me opportunities of being with him that I
Speaker 1: could not otherwise have had. And but for his illness,
Speaker 1: he would have been put in irons, for he was
Speaker 1: regarded as a determined prison break, and I knew not
Speaker 1: what else. Although I saw him every day, it was
Speaker 1: for only a short time. Hence the regularly recurring spaces
Speaker 1: of our separation were long enough to record on his
Speaker 1: face any slight changes that occurred in his physical state.
Speaker 1: I do not recollect that I once saw any change
Speaker 1: in it for the better. He wasted and became slowly
Speaker 1: weaker and worse day by day, from the day when
Speaker 1: the prison door closed upon him. The kind of submission
Speaker 1: or resignation that he showed was that of a man
Speaker 1: who was tired out. I sometimes derived an impression from
Speaker 1: his manner, or from a whispered word or two which
Speaker 1: escaped him, that he pondered over the question whether he
Speaker 1: might have been a better man under better circumstances. But
Speaker 1: he never justified himself by a hint tending that way,
Speaker 1: or tried to bend the past out of its eternal shape.
Speaker 1: It happened on two or three occasions in my presence
Speaker 1: that his desper reputation was alluded to by one or
Speaker 1: other of the people in attendance on him. A smile
Speaker 1: crossed his face then, and he turned his eyes on
Speaker 1: me with a trustful look, as if he were confident
Speaker 1: that I had seen some small redeeming touch in him,
Speaker 1: even so long ago as when I was a little child.
Speaker 1: As to all the rest, he was humble in contrite,
Speaker 1: and I never knew him complain when the sessions came round,
Speaker 1: mister Jaggers caused an application to be made for the
Speaker 1: postponement of his trial until the following sessions. It was
Speaker 1: obviously made with the assurance that he could not live
Speaker 1: so long, and was refused. The trial came on at once,
Speaker 1: and when he was put to the bar, he was
Speaker 1: seated in a chair. No objection was made to my
Speaker 1: getting close to the dock, on the outside of it,
Speaker 1: and holding the hand that he stretched forth to me.
Speaker 1: The trial was very short and very clear. Such things
Speaker 1: as could be said for him were said. We had
Speaker 1: taken to industrious habits, and had thriven lawfully and reputably.
Speaker 1: But nothing could unsay the fact that he had returned
Speaker 1: and was there in the presence of the judge and jury.
Speaker 1: It was impossible to try him for that and do
Speaker 1: otherwise than find him guilty. At that time it was
Speaker 1: the custom, as I learned from my terrible experience of
Speaker 1: that sessions, to devote a concluding day to the passing
Speaker 1: of sentences, and to make a finishing effect with the
Speaker 1: sentence of death. But for the indelible picture that my
Speaker 1: remembrance now holds before me, I could scarcely believe even
Speaker 1: as I write these words, that I saw two and
Speaker 1: thirty men and women put before the judge to receive
Speaker 1: that sentence together. Foremost among the two and thirty was
Speaker 1: he seated that he might get breath enough to keep
Speaker 1: life in him. The whole scene starts out again in
Speaker 1: the vivid colors of the moment, down to the tops
Speaker 1: of april rain on the windows of the court, glittering
Speaker 1: in the rays of april sun penned in the dock.
Speaker 1: As I again stood outside it at the corner with
Speaker 1: his hand in mine, were the two and thirty men
Speaker 1: and women, some defiant, some stricken with terror, some sobbing
Speaker 1: and weeping, some covering their faces, some staring gloomily about.
Speaker 1: There had been shrieks from among the women convicts, but
Speaker 1: they had been stilled, and a hush had succeeded. The
Speaker 1: sheriffs with their great chains and nosegays, other civic googaws,
Speaker 1: and monsters, criers, ushers, a great gallery full of people,
Speaker 1: a large theatrical audience looked on as the two and
Speaker 1: thirty and the judge were solemnly confronted. Then the judge
Speaker 1: addressed them. Among the wretched creatures before him whom he
Speaker 1: must single out for special address, was one who, almost
Speaker 1: from his infancy, had been an offender against the laws,
Speaker 1: who after repeated imprisonments and punishments, had been at length
Speaker 1: sentenced to exile for a term of years, and who,
Speaker 1: under circumstances of great violence and daring, had made his
Speaker 1: escape and been re sentenced to exile for life. That
Speaker 1: miserable man would seem for a time to have become
Speaker 1: convinced of his errors when far removed from the scenes
Speaker 1: of his old offenses, and to have lived a peaceable
Speaker 1: and honest life, But in a fatal moment, yielding to
Speaker 1: those propensities and passions, the indulgence of which had so
Speaker 1: long rendered him a scourge to society, he had quitted
Speaker 1: his haven of rest and repentance, and had come back
Speaker 1: to the country where he was proscribed. Being here presently denounced,
Speaker 1: he had for a time succeeded in evading the officers
Speaker 1: of justice, but being at length seized, while in the
Speaker 1: act of flight, he had resisted them, and had he
Speaker 1: best knew, whether by expressed design or in the blindness
Speaker 1: of his hearty deth hood, caused the death of his denouncer,
Speaker 1: to whom his whole career was known. The appointed punishment
Speaker 1: for his return to the land that had cast him
Speaker 1: out being death, and his case being this aggravated case,
Speaker 1: he must prepare himself to die. The sun was striking
Speaker 1: in at the great windows of the court, through the
Speaker 1: glittering drops of rain upon the glass, and it made
Speaker 1: a broad shaft of light between the two and thirty
Speaker 1: and the judge, linking both together and perhaps reminding some
Speaker 1: among the audience how both were passing on with absolute
Speaker 1: equality to the greater judgment that knoweth all things and
Speaker 1: cannot err. Rising for a moment a distinct speck of
Speaker 1: face in this way of light, the prisoner said, my Lord,
Speaker 1: I have received my sentence of death from the Almighty,
Speaker 1: But I bow to yours and sat down again. There
Speaker 1: was some hushing, and the judge went on with what
Speaker 1: he had to say to the rest. Then they were
Speaker 1: all formally doomed, and some of them were supported out,
Speaker 1: and some of them sauntered out with a haggard look
Speaker 1: of bravery, and a few nodded to the gallery, and
Speaker 1: two or three shook hands, and others went out, chewing
Speaker 1: the fragments of herb they had taken from the sweet
Speaker 1: herbs lying about. He went last of all, because of
Speaker 1: having to be helped from his chair, and to go
Speaker 1: very slowly, And he held my hand while all the
Speaker 1: others were removed, and while the audience got up, putting
Speaker 1: their dresses right as they might at church or elsewhere,
Speaker 1: and pointed down at this criminal or at that, and
Speaker 1: most of all at him and me. I earnestly hoped
Speaker 1: and prayed that he might die before the recorder's report
Speaker 1: was made. But in the dread of his lingering on,
Speaker 1: I began that night to write out a petition to
Speaker 1: the Home Secretary of State, setting forth my knowledge of him,
Speaker 1: and how it was that he had come back for
Speaker 1: my sake. I wrote it as fervently and pathetically as
Speaker 1: I could, and when I had finished it and sent
Speaker 1: it in, I wrote out other petitions to such men
Speaker 1: in authority, as I hoped were the most merciful, and
Speaker 1: drew up one to the Crown itself. For several days
Speaker 1: and nights after he was sentenced, I took no rest
Speaker 1: except when I fell asleep in my chair, and was
Speaker 1: wholly absorbed in those appeals. And after I had sent
Speaker 1: them in, I could not keep away from the places
Speaker 1: where they were, but felt as if they were more
Speaker 1: hopeful and less desperate when I was near them. In
Speaker 1: this unreasonable restlessness and pain of mind, I would roam
Speaker 1: the streets of an evening, wandering by those offices and
Speaker 1: houses where I had left the petitions to the present hour.
Speaker 1: The weary western streets of London on a cold, dusty
Speaker 1: spring night, with their ranges of stern, shut up mansions
Speaker 1: and their long rows of lamps, are melancholy to me.
Speaker 1: From this association. The daily visits I could make him
Speaker 1: were shortened now, and he was more strictly kept, seeing
Speaker 1: or fancying that I was suspected of an intention of
Speaker 1: carrying poison to him. I asked to be searched before
Speaker 1: I sat down at his bedside, and told the officer
Speaker 1: who was always there, that I was willing to do
Speaker 1: anything that would assure him of the singleness of my designs.
Speaker 1: Nobody was hard with him or with me. There was
Speaker 1: duty to be done, and it was done, but not harshly.
Speaker 1: The officer always gave me the assurance that he was worse,
Speaker 1: and some other sick prisoners in the room, and some
Speaker 1: other prisoners who attended on them as sick nurses, malefactors,
Speaker 1: but not incapable of kindness. God be thanked, always joined
Speaker 1: in the same report. As the days went on, I
Speaker 1: noticed more and more that he would lie placidly, looking
Speaker 1: at the white ceiling, with an absence of light in
Speaker 1: his face, until some whe mine brightened it for an instant,
Speaker 1: and then it would subside again. Sometimes he was almost
Speaker 1: or quite unable to speak, and then he would answer
Speaker 1: me with slight pressures on my hand, and I grew
Speaker 1: to understand his meaning very well. The number of the
Speaker 1: days had risen to ten when I saw a greater
Speaker 1: change in him than I had seen yet. His eyes
Speaker 1: were turned towards the door and lighted up as I entered.
Speaker 1: Dear boy, he said, as I sat down by his bed,
Speaker 1: I thought you was late, but I knowed you couldn't
Speaker 1: be that. It is just the time, said I. I
Speaker 1: waited for it at the gate. You always wait, said
Speaker 1: the gate, don't you, dear boy. Yes, not to lose
Speaker 1: a moment of the time. Thank ye, dear boy, Thankee,
Speaker 1: God bless you. You have never deserted me. Dear boy.
Speaker 1: I pressed his hand in silence, for I could not
Speaker 1: forget that I had once meant to desert him. And
Speaker 1: what's the best of all? He said, You've been more
Speaker 1: comfortable alonger me since I was under a dark cloud
Speaker 1: than when the sun shone. That's best of all. He
Speaker 1: lay on his back, breathing with great difficulty, do what
Speaker 1: he would and love me. Though he did, the light
Speaker 1: left his face ever and again, and a film came
Speaker 1: over the placid. Look at the white ceiling. Are you
Speaker 1: in much pain to day? I don't complain of none,
Speaker 1: dear boy, you never do complain. He had spoken his
Speaker 1: last words. He smiled, and I understood his touch to
Speaker 1: me that he wished to lift my hand and lay
Speaker 1: it on his breast. I laid it there, and he
Speaker 1: smiled again and put both his hands upon it. The
Speaker 1: allotted time ran out while we were thus, but looking round,
Speaker 1: I found the governor of the prison standing near me,
Speaker 1: and he whispered, you needn't go yet. I thanked him gratefully,
Speaker 1: and asked, might I speak to him if he could
Speaker 1: hear me. The governor stepped aside and beckoned the officer away.
Speaker 1: The change, though it was made without noise, drew back
Speaker 1: the film from the placid, Look at the white ceiling,
Speaker 1: and he looked most affectionately at me. Dear magwitch, I
Speaker 1: must tell you now at last you understand what I say.
Speaker 1: A gentle pressure on my hand. You had a child
Speaker 1: once whom you loved and lost a stronger pressure on
Speaker 1: my hand. She lived and found powerful friends. She is
Speaker 1: living now. She is a lady and very beautiful, and
Speaker 1: I love her with a last faint effort which would
Speaker 1: have been powerless but for my yielding to it and
Speaker 1: assisting it. He raised my hand to his lips. Then
Speaker 1: he gently let it sink upon his breast, again, with
Speaker 1: his own hands lying on it. The placid look at
Speaker 1: the white ceiling, came back and passed away, and his
Speaker 1: head dropped quietly on his breast. Mindful then of what
Speaker 1: we had read together, I thought of the two men
Speaker 1: who went up into the temple to pray, and I
Speaker 1: knew there were no better words that I could say
Speaker 1: beside his bed than O, Lord, be merciful to him
Speaker 1: a sinner. End of chapter