PERPLEXITY -- GRINDING THE SHEARS -- A QUARREL
HE is so disinterested and kind to offer me all that Ican desire. Bathsheba mused.Yet Farmer Boldwood, whether by nature kind orthe reverse to kind, did not exercise kindness, here.The rarest offerings of the purest loves are but a self-indulgence, and no generosity at all.Bathsheba, not being the least in love with him, waseventually able to look calmly at his offer. It was onewhich many women of her own station in the neighbour-hood, and not a few of higher rank, would have beenwild to accept and proud to publish. In every point ofview, ranging from politic to passionate, it was desirablethat she, a lonely girl, should marry, and marry thisearnest, well-to-do, and respected man. He was closeto her doors: his standing was sufficient: his qualitieswere even supererogatory. Had she felt, which she didnot, any wish whatever for the married state in theabstract, she could not reasonably have rejected him,being a woman who frequently appealed to her under,standing for deliverance from her whims. Boldwood asa means to marriage was unexceptionable: she esteemedand liked him, yet she did not want him. It appearsthat ordinary men take wives because possession is notpossible without marriage, and that ordinary womenaccept husbands because marriage is not possible with,out possession with totally differing aims the method isthe same on both sides. But the understood incentiveon the woman's part was wanting here. Besides, Bath-sheba's position as absolute mistress of a farm and housewas a novel one, and the novelty had not yet begun towear off.But a disquiet filled her which was somewhat to hercredit, for it would have affected few. Beyond the men-tioned reasons with which she combated her objections,she had a strong feeling that, having been the one whobegan the game, she ought in honesty to accept the conse-quences. Still the reluctance remained. She said in thesame breath that it would be ungenerous not to marryBoldwood, and that she couldn't do it to save her life.Bathsheba's was an impulsive nature under a delibera-tive aspect. An Elizabeth in brain and a Mary Stuartin spirit, she often performed actions of the greatesttemerity with a manner of extreme discretion. Many ofher thoughts were perfect syllogisms; unluckily theyalways remained thoughts. Only a few were irrationalassumptions; but, unfortunately, they were the oneswhich most frequently grew into deeds. The next day to that of the declaration she foundGabriel Oak at the bottom of her garden, grinding hisshears for the sheep-shearing. All the surroundingcottages were more or less scenes of the same operationthe scurr of whetting spread into the sky from all partsof the village as from an armury previous to a campaign.Peace and war kiss each other at their hours of prepara-tion -- sickles, scythes, shears, and pruning-hooks, rankingwith swords, bayonets, and lances, in their commonnecessity for point and edge.Cainy Ball turned the handle of Gabriel's grindstone,his head performing a melancholy see-saw up and downwith each turn of the wheel. Oak stood somewhat asEros is represented when in the act of sharpening hisarrows: his figure slightly bent, the weight of his bodythrown over on the shears, and his head balanced side-ways, with a critical compression of the lips and contrac-tion of the eyelids to crown the attitude.His mistress came up and looked upon them insilence for a minute or two; then she said --Cain, go to the lower mead and catch the bay mare.I'll turn the winch of the grindstone. I want to speakto you, Gabriel.Cain departed, and Bathsheba took the handle.Gabriel had glanced up in intense surprise, quelled itsexpression, and looked down again. Bathsheba turnedthe winch, and Gabriel applied the shears.The peculiar motion involved in turning a wheelhas a wonderful tendency to benumb the mind. Itis a sort of attenuated variety of Ixion's punishment,and contributes a dismal chapter to the history ofheavy, and the body's centre of gravity seems tosettle by degrees in a leaden lump somewhere be-tween the eyebrows and the crown. Bathsheba feltthe unpleasant symptoms after two or three dozenturns. Will you turn, Gabriel, and let me hold the shears?she said. My head is in a'whirl, and I can't talk.Gabriel turned. Bathsheba then began, with someawkwardness, allowing her thoughts to stray occasion-ally from her story to attend to the shears, whichrequired a little nicety in sharpening. I wanted to ask you if the men made any observa-tions on my going behind the sedge with Mr. Boldwoodyesterday? Yes, they did. said Gabriel. You don't holdthe shears right, miss -- I knew you wouldn't know theway -- hold like this.He relinquished the winch, and inclosing her twohands completely in his own (taking each as we some-times slap a child's hand in teaching him to write),grasped the shears with her. Incline the edge so,he said. Hands and shears were inclined to suit the words,and held thus for a peculiarly long time by the in-structor as he spoke. That will do. exclaimed Bathsheba. Loose myhands. I won't have them held! Turn the winch.Gabriel freed her hands quietly, retired to hishandle, and the grinding went on. Did the men think it odd? she said again.Odd was not the idea, miss.What did they say?That Farmer Boldwood's name and your ownwere likely to be flung over pulpit together before theyear was out.I thought so by the look of them! Why, there'snothing in it. A more foolish remark was never made,and I want you to contradict it! that's what I came for. Gabriel looked incredulous and sad, but betweenhis moments of incredulity, relieved.They must have heard our conversation. shecontinued.Well, then, Bathsheba! said Oak, stopping thehandle, and gazing into her face with astonishment. Miss Everdene, you mean, she said, with dignity. I mean this, that if Mr. Boldwood really spoke ofmarriage, I bain't going to tell a story and say hedidn't to please you. I have already tried to pleaseyou too much for my own good!Bathsheba regarded him with round-eyed perplexity.She did not know whether to pity him for disappointedlove of her, or to be angry with him for having gotover it -- his tone being ambiguous. I said I wanted you just to mention that it wasnot true I was going to be married to him. she mur-mured, with a slight decline in her assurance.I can say that to them if you wish, Miss Everdene.And I could likewise give an opinion to 'ee on whatyou have done.I daresay. But I don't want your opinion.I suppose not. said Gabrielbitterly, and going onwith his turning, his words rising and falling in aregular swell and cadence as he stooped or rose withthe winch, which directed them, according to hisposition, perpendicularly into the earth, or horizontallyalong the garden, his eyes being fixed on a leaf uponthe ground. With Bathsheba a hastened act was a rash act;but, as does not always happen, time gained wasprudence insured. It must be added, however, thattime was very seldom gained. At this period thesingle opinion in the parish on herself and her doingsthat she valued as sounder than her own was GabrielOak's. And the outspoken honesty of his characterwas such- that on any subject even that of her lovefor, or marriage with, another man, the same disinter-estedness of opinion might be calculated on, and behad for the asking. Thoroughly convinced of theimpossibility of his own suit, a high resolve constrainedhim not to injure that of another. This is a lover'smost stoical virtue, as the lack of it is a lover's mostvenial sin. Knowing he would reply truly, she askedthe question, painful as she must have known the sub-ject would be. Such is the selfishness of some charm-ing women. Perhaps it was some excuse for her thustorturing honesty to her own advantage, that she hadabsolutely no other sound judgment within easy reach.Well, what is your opinion of my conduct. shesaid, quietly.That it is unworthy of any thoughtful, and meek,and comely woman.In an instant Bathsheba's face coloured with theangry crimson of a danby sunset. But she forboreto utter this feeling, and the reticence of her tongueonly made the loquacity of her face the more notice-able.The next thing Gabriel did was to make a mistake.Perhaps you don't like the rudeness of my repri-manding you, for I know it is rudeness; but I thoughtit would do good.She instantly replied sarcastically --On the contrary, my opinion of you is so low, thatI see in your abuse the praise of discerning people!I am glad you don't mind it, for I said it honestlyand with every serious meaning. I see. But, unfortunately, when you try not tospeak in jest you are amusing -- just as when you wishto avoid seriousness you sometimes say a sensible wordIt was a hard hit, but Bathsheba had unmistakablylost her temper, and on that account Gabriel hadnever in his life kept his own better. He said nothing.She then broke out -- I may ask, I suppose, where in particular myunworthiness lies? In my not marrying you, perhaps!Not by any means. said Gabriel quietly. I havelong given up thinking of that matter.Or wishing it, I suppose. shesaid; and it wasapparent that she expected an unhesitating denial ofthis supposition.Whatever Gabriel felt, he coolly echoed her words --Or wishing it either. A woman may be treated with a bitterness whichis sweet to her, and with a rudeness which is notoffensive. Bathsheba would have submitted to anindignant chastisement for her levity had Gabriel pro-tested that he was loving her at the same time; theimpetuosity of passion unrequited is bearable, even ifit stings and anathematizes there is a triumph in thehumiliation, and a tenderness in the strife. This waswhat she had been expecting, and what she had notgot. To be lectured because the lecturer saw her inthe cold morning light of open-shuttered disillusionwas exasperating. He had not finished, either. Hecontinued in a more agitated voice: --My opinion is (since you ask it) that you aregreatly to blame for playing pranks upon a man likeMr. Boldwood, merely as a pastime. Leading on aman you don't care for is not a praiseworthy action.And even, Miss Everdene, if you seriously inclinedtowards him, you might have let him find it out insome way of true loving-kindness, and not by sendinghim a valentine's letter.Bathsheba laid down the shears. I cannot allow any man to -- to criticise my privateConduct! she exclaimed. Nor will I for a minute.So you'll please leave the farm at the end of the week!It may have been a peculiarity -- at any rate it wasa fact -- that when Bathsheba was swayed by an emotionof an earthly sort her lower lip trembled: when by arefined emotion, her upper or heavenward one. Hernether lip quivered now.Very well, so I will. said Gabriel calmly. He hadbeen held to her by a beautiful thread which it painedhim to spoil by breaking, rather than by a chain hecould not break. I should be even better pleased togo at once. he added.Go at once then, in Heaven's name! said she,hereyes flashing at his, though never meeting them.Don't let me see your face any more.Very well, Miss Everdene -- so it shall be.And he took his shears and went away from her inplacid dignity, as Moses left the presence of Pharaoh.
CHAPTER XXI