The Ordeal of Richard Feverel — Volume 1 — John Shaqi
The Ordeal of Richard Feverel — Volume 1Meredith, George
General
The Ordeal of Richard Feverel — Volume 1
Meredith, George
Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century; Fathers and sons -- Fiction
Not knowing for the moment what else to do, Austin drew a picture of
Tom in prison, and repeated Tom's volunteer statement. The picture,
though his intentions were far from designing it so, had to Richard,
whose perception of humour was infinitely keener, a horrible chaw-bacon
smack about it. Visions of a grinning lout, open from ear to ear,
unkempt, coarse, splay-footed, rose before him and afflicted him with
the strangest sensations of disgust and comicality, mixed up with pity
and remorse—a sort of twisted pathos. There lay Tom; hobnail Tom! a
bacon- munching, reckless, beer-swilling animal! and yet a man; a dear
brave human heart notwithstanding; capable of devotion and
unselfishness. The boy's better spirit was touched, and it kindled his
imagination to realize the abject figure of poor clodpole Tom, and
surround it with a halo of mournful light. His soul was alive. Feelings
he had never known streamed in upon him as from an ethereal casement,
an unwonted tenderness, an embracing humour, a consciousness of some
ineffable glory, an irradiation of the features of humanity. All this
was in the bosom of the boy, and through it all the vision of an actual
hob-nail Tom, coarse, unkempt, open from ear to ear; whose presence was
a finger of shame to him and an oppression of clodpole; yet toward whom
he felt just then a loving-kindness beyond what he felt for any living
creature. He laughed at him, and wept over him. He prized him, while he
shrank from him. It was a genial strife of the angel in him with
constituents less divine; but the angel was uppermost and led the
van—extinguished loathing, humanized laughter, transfigured pride—pride
that would persistently contemplate the corduroys of gaping Tom, and
cry to Richard, in the very tone of Adrian's ironic voice, "Behold your
benefactor!"
Austin sat by the boy, unaware of the sublimer tumult he had stirred.
Little of it was perceptible in Richard's countenance. The lines of his
mouth were slightly drawn; his eyes hard set into the distance. He
remained thus many minutes. Finally he jumped to his legs, saying,
"I'll go at once to old Blaize and tell him."
Austin grasped his hand, and together they issued out of Daphne's
Bower, in the direction of Lobourne.
CHAPTER VIII
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account