"Why do you speak in such a strange way? It is only a little old song which struck my fancy when I was in Paris, and now just applies to my life with you.Has your love for me all died, then, because my appearance is no longer that of a fine gentleman?""Dearest, you must not question me unpleasantly, or it may make me not love you.""Do you believe it possible that I would run the risk of doing that?""Well, you follow out your own ideas, and won't give in to mine when I wish you to leave off this shameful labour.Is there anything you dislike in me that you act so contrarily to my wishes? I am your wife, and why will you not listen? Yes, I am your wife indeed!""I know what that tone means."
"What tone?"
"The tone in which you said, 'Your wife indeed.' It meant, 'Your wife, worse luck.'""It is hard in you to probe me with that remark.
A woman may have reason, though she is not without heart, and if I felt 'worse luck,' it was no ignoble feeling--it was only too natural.There, you see that at any rate I do not attempt untruths.Do you remember how, before we were married, I warned you that I had not good wifely qualities?""You mock me to say that now.On that point at least the only noble course would be to hold your tongue, for you are still queen of me, Eustacia, though I may no longer be king of you.""You are my husband.Does not that content you?""Not unless you are my wife without regret.""I cannot answer you.I remember saying that I should be a serious matter on your hands.""Yes, I saw that."
"Then you were too quick to see! No true lover would have seen any such thing; you are too severe upon me, Clym--I won't like your speaking so at all.""Well, I married you in spite of it, and don't regret doing so.How cold you seem this afternoon! and yet Iused to think there never was a warmer heart than yours.""Yes, I fear we are cooling--I see it as well as you,"she sighed mournfully."And how madly we loved two months ago! You were never tired of contemplating me, nor Iof contemplating you.Who could have thought then that by this time my eyes would not seem so very bright to yours, nor your lips so very sweet to mine? Two months--is it possible? Yes, 'tis too true!""You sigh, dear, as if you were sorry for it; and that's a hopeful sign.""No.I don't sigh for that.There are other things for me to sigh for, or any other woman in my place.""That your chances in life are ruined by marrying in haste an unfortunate man?""Why will you force me, Clym, to say bitter things? Ideserve pity as much as you.As much?--I think I deserve it more.For you can sing! It would be a strange hour which should catch me singing under such a cloud as this!
Believe me, sweet, I could weep to a degree that would astonish and confound such an elastic mind as yours.
Even had you felt careless about your own affliction, you might have refrained from singing out of sheer pity for mine.God! if I were a man in such a position I would curse rather than sing."Yeobright placed his hand upon her arm."Now, don't you suppose, my inexperienced girl, that I cannot rebel, in high Promethean fashion, against the gods and fate as well as you.I have felt more steam and smoke of that sort than you have ever heard of.But the more Isee of life the more do I perceive that there is nothing particularly great in its greatest walks, and therefore nothing particularly small in mine of furze-cutting.
If I feel that the greatest blessings vouchsafed to us are not very valuable, how can I feel it to be any great hardship when they are taken away? So I sing to pass the time.Have you indeed lost all tenderness for me, that you begrudge me a few cheerful moments?""I have still some tenderness left for you.""Your words have no longer their old flavour.And so love dies with good fortune!""I cannot listen to this, Clym--it will end bitterly,"she said in a broken voice."I will go home."3 - She Goes Out to Battle against Depression A few days later, before the month of August has expired, Eustacia and Yeobright sat together at their early dinner.
Eustacia's manner had become of late almost apathetic.
There was a forlorn look about her beautiful eyes which, whether she deserved it or not, would have excited pity in the breast of anyone who had known her during the full flush of her love for Clym.The feelings of husband and wife varied, in some measure, inversely with their positions.Clym, the afflicted man, was cheerful;and he even tried to comfort her, who had never felt a moment of physical suffering in her whole life.
"Come, brighten up, dearest; we shall be all right again.
Some day perhaps I shall see as well as ever.
And I solemnly promise that I'll leave off cutting furze as soon as I have the power to do anything better.
You cannot seriously wish me to stay idling at home all day?""But it is so dreadful--a furze-cutter! and you a man who have lived about the world, and speak French, and German, and who are fit for what is so much better than this.""I suppose when you first saw me and heard about me Iwas wrapped in a sort of golden halo to your eyes--a man who knew glorious things, and had mixed in brilliant scenes--in short, an adorable, delightful, distracting hero?""Yes," she said, sobbing.
"And now I am a poor fellow in brown leather.""Don't taunt me.But enough of this.I will not be depressed any more.I am going from home this afternoon, unless you greatly object.There is to be a village picnic--a gipsying, they call it--at East Egdon, and Ishall go."
"To dance?"
"Why not? You can sing."
