Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall-StreetMelville, Herman
General
Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall-Street
Melville, Herman
Copyists -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Psychological fiction; Wall Street (New York, N.Y.) -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
“How would a bar-tender’s business suit you? There is no trying of the
eyesight in that.”
“I would not like it at all; though, as I said before, I am not
particular.”
His unwonted wordiness inspirited me. I returned to the charge.
“Well then, would you like to travel through the country collecting
bills for the merchants? That would improve your health.”
“No, I would prefer to be doing something else.”
“How then would going as a companion to Europe, to entertain some young
gentleman with your conversation,—how would that suit you?”
“Not at all. It does not strike me that there is any thing definite
about that. I like to be stationary. But I am not particular.”
“Stationary you shall be then,” I cried, now losing all patience, and
for the first time in all my exasperating connection with him fairly
flying into a passion. “If you do not go away from these premises
before night, I shall feel bound—indeed I _am_ bound—to—to—to quit the
premises myself!” I rather absurdly concluded, knowing not with what
possible threat to try to frighten his immobility into compliance.
Despairing of all further efforts, I was precipitately leaving him,
when a final thought occurred to me—one which had not been wholly
unindulged before.
“Bartleby,” said I, in the kindest tone I could assume under such
exciting circumstances, “will you go home with me now—not to my office,
but my dwelling—and remain there till we can conclude upon some
convenient arrangement for you at our leisure? Come, let us start now,
right away.”
“No: at present I would prefer not to make any change at all.”
I answered nothing; but effectually dodging every one by the suddenness
and rapidity of my flight, rushed from the building, ran up Wall-street
towards Broadway, and jumping into the first omnibus was soon removed
from pursuit. As soon as tranquility returned I distinctly perceived
that I had now done all that I possibly could, both in respect to the
demands of the landlord and his tenants, and with regard to my own
desire and sense of duty, to benefit Bartleby, and shield him from rude
persecution. I now strove to be entirely care-free and quiescent; and
my conscience justified me in the attempt; though indeed it was not so
successful as I could have wished. So fearful was I of being again
hunted out by the incensed landlord and his exasperated tenants, that,
surrendering my business to Nippers, for a few days I drove about the
upper part of the town and through the suburbs, in my rockaway; crossed
over to Jersey City and Hoboken, and paid fugitive visits to
Manhattanville and Astoria. In fact I almost lived in my rockaway for
the time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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