A Mad Man

Vanity of all Vanities, all is Vanity

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens - The Ghost of Christmas Present

Stave 3: The Second of the Three Spirits
 
Awaking in the middle of a snore, and sitting up in bed to get his thoughts together, Scrooge had no occasion to be told that the bell was again upon the stroke of One.
 
[Cheerily]- He felt that he was restored to consciousness in the right nick of time, for the especial purpose of holding a conference with the second messenger dispatched to him through Jacob Marley's intervention.
 
Now, being prepared for almost anything, he was not by any means prepared for nothing; and, consequently, when the Bell struck One, [Dong] and no shape appeared, he was taken with a violent fit of trembling.
 
[Trembling]-Five minutes, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour went by, yet nothing came.
 
 All this time, he lay upon his bed, the very core and centre of a blaze of ruddy light, which streamed upon it when the clock proclaimed the hour; and which, being only light, was more alarming than a dozen ghosts, as he was powerless to make out what it meant, or would be.
 
At last, he began to think that the source and secret of this ghostly light might be in the adjoining room, from whence, on further tracing it, it seemed to shine.[Surprised].
 
This idea taking full possession of his mind, he got up softly and shuffled in his slippers to the door.[shuffle feet front]
 
The moment Scrooge's hand was on the lock[gesture], a strange voice called him by his name, “Ebenezer Scrooge… come.” and bade him enter. He obeyed.
 
[Surprised] It was his own room. There was no doubt about that. But it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green, that it looked a perfect grove; from every part of which, bright gleaming berries glistened. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light, as if so many little mirrors had been scattered there.
 
[Quicken, one breath] Heaped up on the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam.
 
[Cheery] In easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see:, who bore a glowing torch[gesture] and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door.
 
[louder] "Come in!" exclaimed the Ghost. "Come in, and know me better, man."
 
Scrooge entered timidly, and hung his head before this Spirit. He was not the dogged Scrooge he had been; and though the Spirit's eyes were clear and kind, he did not like to meet them.
 
"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," said the Spirit. "Look upon me."
 
Scrooge reverently did so. It was clothed in one simple green robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure, baring its huge breast.
 
"You have never seen the like of me before!" exclaimed the Spirit.
 
[Softer, submissive] "Never," Scrooge made answer to it.
 
The Ghost of Christmas Present rose.
 
"Spirit," said Scrooge submissively, "conduct me where you will. I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a lesson which is working now. To-night, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it."
 
"Touch my robe."
 
Scrooge did as he was told, and held it fast.
 
[Quicken] The room, the fire, the ruddy glow, the hour of night all vanished instantly, and [normal speed] they stood in the city streets on Christmas morning, where the people made a rough, but brisk and not unpleasant kind of music. The sky was gloomy, and the shortest streets were choked up with a dingy mist, half thawed, half frozen. There was nothing very cheerful in the climate or the town, and yet was there an air of cheerfulness abroad that the clearest summer air and brightest summer sun might have endeavoured to diffuse in vain.
 
Scrooge and the ghost went on, invisible, and the ghost led him straight to Scrooge's clerk's; for there he went, and took Scrooge with him, holding to his robe; and on the threshold of the door the Spirit smiled, and stopped to bless Bob Cratchit's dwelling with the sprinkling of his torch.
 
Then up rose Mrs Cratchit, Cratchit's wife, dressed out but poorly in a twice-turned gown, but brave in ribbons, she laid the cloth, assisted by Belinda Cratchit, second of her daughters, also brave in ribbons; while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the saucepan of potatoes. And then, two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in.
 
[cheery]"What has ever got your precious father then?" said Mrs Cratchit. "And your brother, Tiny Tim; And Martha warn't as late last Christmas Day by half-an-hour."
 
"Here's Martha, mother," said a girl, appearing as she spoke.
 
"Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are!" said Mrs Cratchit, kissing her a dozen times, taking off her shawl and bonnet.
 
In came Bob, the father and Tiny Tim upon his shoulder. [Darken] Alas for Tiny Tim, he bore a little crutch, and had his limbs supported by an iron frame.
 
"And how did little Tim behave?" asked Mrs Cratchit.
 
"As good as gold," said Bob, "and better. [Gradual to tremble] Somehow he gets thoughtful sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see."
 
Bob's voice was tremulous when he told them this, and trembled more when he said that Tiny Tim was growing strong and hearty.
 
His active little crutch was heard upon the floor and back came Tiny Tim before another word was spoken, escorted by his brother and sister to his stool before the fire.
 
At last the dishes were set on, and grace was said. It was succeeded by a breathless pause [air sucked in], as Mrs Cratchit, looking slowly [slow] all along the carving-knife, [quicken]prepared to plunge it in the breast; but when she did, and when the long expected gush of stuffing issued forth[surprised], one murmur of delight arose all round the board, and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with the handle of his knife[metal], and feebly cried Hurrah![feeble]
 
Then Bob proposed: [loud&joyous]
"A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us."
 
Which all the family echoed.
 
[feeble]"God bless us every one!" said Tiny Tim, the last of all.
 
[Quietly] He sat very close to his father's side upon his little stool. Bob held his withered little hand in his, as if he loved the child, and wished to keep him by his side, and dreaded that he might be taken from him.
 
[eagerly]"Spirit," said Scrooge, with an interest he had never felt before,"tell me if Tiny Tim will live."
 
"I see a vacant seat," replied the Ghost, "in the poor chimney-corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, the child will die."
 
[shocked, sad]"No, no," said Scrooge. "Oh, no, kind Spirit. Say he will be spared."
 
"If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, none other of my race," returned the Ghost, "will find him here. [Sarcastically] What then? If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population."
 
Scrooge hung his head to hear his own words quoted by the Spirit, and was overcome with penitence and grief.
 
"Man," said the Ghost, "if man you be in heart, Will you decide what men shall live, what men shall die? It may be, that in the sight of Heaven, you are more worthless and less fit to live than millions like this poor man's child."
 
Scrooge bent before the Ghost's rebuke, and trembling cast his eyes upon the ground. But he raised them speedily, on hearing his own name.
 
[heartily]"Mr Scrooge!" said Bob; "I'll give you Mr Scrooge, the Founder of the Feast!"
 
[angrily]"The Founder of the Feast indeed!" cried Mrs Cratchit, reddening. "I wish I had him here. I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I hope he'd have a good appetite for it. On this Christmas Day, I will not drink to the health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr Scrooge. You know he is, Robert. Nobody knows it better than you do."
 
[mildly]"My dear," was Bob's mild answer, "the children. Christmas Day."
 
"I'll drink his health for your sake and the Day's," said Mrs Cratchit, "not for his. Long life to him. A merry Christmas and a happy new year!
 
The children drank the toast after her. Tiny Tim drank it last of all, but he didn't care twopence for it. Scrooge was the Ogre of the family. The mention of his name cast a dark shadow on the party, which was not dispelled for full five minutes.
 
After it had passed away, they were ten times merrier than before, from the mere relief of the thought of Scrooge.
 
All this time the chestnuts and the jug went round and round; and by-and-bye [quieten] they had a song, about a lost child travelling in the snow, from Tiny Tim, who had a plaintive little voice, and sang it very well indeed.
 
[Speaking] There was nothing of high mark in this. They were not a handsome family; they were not well dressed; their shoes were far from being water-proof; their clothes were scanty. But, [happily] they were happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and contented with the time; and when they faded, and looked happier yet in the bright sprinklings of the Spirit's torch at parting,[softer, quieter] Scrooge had his eye upon them, and especially on Tiny Tim, until [pause] the[pause] last[hold].


Advanced Project - Read out Loud. My annotation for a dramatization of a section of the story. Delivered at a Christmas Party for the toastmasters club. Editing to 12 -15 mins was a challenge due to the length of the story. Complete dramatization took 13 mins 50 sec, well within time. 

Was it supposed to be dramatized? Or should it be plain reading? Not sure.  Comment by evaluator - unclear pronunciation. Sigh, got to work on this...
 

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