Speaker 1: Great 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 hand 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
Speaker 1: there fenced into the corner with Joe's leg, and sitting
Speaker 1: on my own little stool, looking at the fire, was
Speaker 1: I again would give him the name of Pip. For
Speaker 1: your sake, dear old Jap, said Joe, delighted when I
Speaker 1: took another stool by the child's side. But I did
Speaker 1: not rumple his hair. And we hoped he might grow
Speaker 1: a little bit like you, And we think ye 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 or 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 meanness. And I had heard of the death of
Speaker 1: her husband from an accident consequent on his ill treatment
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 while 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 the casks. I had done
Speaker 1: so and was looking along the desolate garden walk when
Speaker 1: I beheld a solitary figure in it. The figure showed
Speaker 1: itself aware of me as I advanced. It had been
Speaker 1: moving 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 often 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
Speaker 1: since nor I. The moon began to rise, and I
Speaker 1: thought of the placid look at the white ceiling which
Speaker 1: had passed away. The moon began to rise, and I
Speaker 1: thought of the pressure on my hand when I had
Speaker 1: spoken the last words he had heard on earth. Estella
Speaker 1: was the next to break the silence that 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 1: At last? It is? I came here to take leave
Speaker 1: of it before its change. And you, she said, in
Speaker 1: a voice of touching interest to a wanderer, You live
Speaker 1: abroad still still, and do well. I am sure. I
Speaker 1: worked pretty hard for a sufficient living, and therefore, yes,
Speaker 1: I do well. I have often thought of you, said Estella,
Speaker 1: have you of late? Very often? There was a long
Speaker 1: hard time when I kept far from me the remembrance
Speaker 1: of what I had thrown away when I was quite
Speaker 1: ignorant of its worth. But since my duty has not
Speaker 1: been incompatible with the admission of that remembrance, I have
Speaker 1: given it a place in my heart. You have always
Speaker 1: held your place in my heart, I answered, and we
Speaker 1: were silent again until she spoke. I little thought, said Estella,
Speaker 1: that I should take leave of you. In taking leave
Speaker 1: of the spot, I am very glad to do so,
Speaker 1: glad to part again, Estella. To me, parting is a
Speaker 1: painful thing to me. The remembrance of our last parting
Speaker 1: has been ever mournful and painful. But you said to me,
Speaker 1: returned Estella, very earnestly. God bless you, God forgive you.
Speaker 1: And if you could say that to me, then you
Speaker 1: will not hesitate to say that to me now, now,
Speaker 1: when suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and
Speaker 1: has taught me to understand what your heart used to be.
Speaker 1: I have been bent and broken, but I hope into
Speaker 1: a better shape. Be as considerate and good to me
Speaker 1: as you were, and tell me we are friends. We
Speaker 1: are friends, said I, rising and bending over her as
Speaker 1: she rose from the bench. And we'll continue friends apart,
Speaker 1: said Estella. I took her hand in mine, and we
Speaker 1: went out of the ruined place. And as the morning
Speaker 1: miss had risen long ago when I first left the forge,
Speaker 1: so the evening mists were rising now, and in all
Speaker 1: the broad expanse of tranquil light, they showed to me,
Speaker 1: I saw no shadow of another parting from her end
Speaker 1: of chapter, end of book. Thank you for listening.