George Eliot

Middlemarch

• Chapter 1Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by poor dress. Her hand and wrist were so finely formed that she could wear sleeves not less bare of style than those in which the Blessed Virgin appeared to Italian painters; and her profile as well as her stature and bearing seemed to gain the more dignity from her plain garments, which by the side of provincial fashion gave her the impressiveness of a fine quotation from the Bible—or from one of our elder poets—in a paragraph of today’s newspaper. She was usually spoken of as being remarkably clever, but with the addition that her sister Celia had more common sense. Nevertheless, Celia wore scarcely more trimmings; and it was only to close observers that her dress differed from her sister’s, and had a shade of coquetry in its arrangements; for Miss Brooke’s plain dressing was due to mixed conditions, in most of which her sister shared. The pride of being ladies had something to do with it: the Brooke connections, though not exactly aristocratic, were unquestionably “good:” if you inquired backward for a generation or two, you would not find any yard-measuring or parcel-tying forefathers—anything lower than an admiral or a clergyman; and there was even an ancestor discernible as a Puritan gentleman who served under Cromwell, but afterwards conformed, and managed to come out of all political troubles as the proprietor of a respectable family estate. Young women of such birth, living in a quiet country-house, and attending a village church hardly larger than a parlor, naturally regarded frippery as the ambition of a huckster’s daughter. Then there was well-bred economy, which in those days made show in dress the first item to be deducted from, when any margin was required for expenses more distinctive of rank. Such reasons would have been enough to account for plain dress, quite apart from religious feeling; but in Miss Brooke’s case, religion alone would have determined it; and Celia mildly acquiesced in all her sister’s sentiments, only infusing them with that common sense which is able to accept momentous doctrines without any eccentric agitation. Dorothea knew many passages of Pascal’s Pensées and of Jeremy Taylor by heart; and to her the destinies of mankind, seen by the light of Christianity, made the solicitudes of feminine fashion appear an occupation for Bedlam. She could not reconcile the anxieties of a spiritual life involving eternal consequences, with a keen interest in gimp and artificial protrusions of drapery. Her mind was theoretic, and yearned by its nature after some lofty conception of the world which might frankly include the parish of Tipton and her own rule of conduct there; she was enamoured of intensity and greatness, and rash in embracing whatever seemed to her to have those aspects; likely to seek martyrdom, to make retractations, and then to incur martyrdom after all in a quarter where she had not sought it. Certainly such elements in the character of a marriageable girl tended to interfere with her lot, and hinder it from being decided according to custom, by good looks, vanity, and merely canine affection. With all this, she, the elder of the sisters, was not yet twenty, and they had both been educated, since they were about twelve years old and had lost their parents, on plans at once narrow and promiscuous, first in an English family and afterwards in a Swiss family at Lausanne, their bachelor uncle and guardian trying in this way to remedy the disadvantages of their orphaned condition.
• Chapter 2“Dime; no ves aquel caballero que hacia nosotros viene sobre un caballo rucio rodado que trae puesto en la cabeza un yelmo de oro?” “Lo que veo y columbro,” respondio Sancho, “no es sino un hombre sobre un as no pardo como el mio, que trae sobre la cabeza una cosa que relumbra.” “Pues ese es el yelmo de Mambrino,” dijo Don Quijote.
• Chapter 3Say, goddess, what ensued, when Raphael, The affable archangel …
• Chapter 4Our deeds are fetters that we forge ourselves.
• Chapter 5Hard students are commonly troubled with gowts, catarrhs, rheums, cachexia, bradypepsia, bad eyes, stone, and collick, crudities, oppilations, vertigo, winds, consumptions, and all such diseases as come by overmuch sitting: they are most part lean, dry, ill-colored … and all through immoderate pains and extraordinary studies. If you will not believe the truth of this, look upon great Tostatus and Thomas Aquainas’ works; and tell me whether those men took pains.
• Chapter 6My lady’s tongue is like the meadow blades, That cut you stroking them with idle hand. Nice cutting is her function: she divides With spiritual edge the millet-seed, And makes intangible savings.
• Chapter 7Piacer e popone Vuol la sua stagione.
• Chapter 8Oh, rescue her! I am her brother now, And you her father. Every gentle maid Should have a guardian in each gentleman.
• Chapter 9An ancient land in ancient oracles Is called “law-thirsty”: all the struggle there Was after order and a perfect rule. Pray, where lie such lands now? …
• Chapter 10He had catched a great cold, had he had no other clothes to wear than the skin of a bear not yet killed.
• Chapter 11But deeds and language such as men do use, And persons such as comedy would choose, When she would show an image of the times, And sport with human follies, not with crimes.
• Chapter 12He had more tow on his distaffe Than Gerveis knew.
• Chapter 13Old and Young
• Chapter 14How class your man?—as better than the most, Or, seeming better, worse beneath that cloak? As saint or knave, pilgrim or hypocrite?
• Chapter 15Follows here the strict receipt For that sauce to dainty meat, Named Idleness, which many eat By preference, and call it sweet: First watch for morsels, like a hound Mix well with buffets, stir them round With good thick oil of flatteries, And froth with mean self-lauding lies. Serve warm: the vessels you must choose To keep it in are dead men’s shoes.
• Chapter 16Black eyes you have left, you say, Blue eyes fail to draw you; Yet you seem more rapt today, Than of old we saw you.
• Chapter 17All that in woman is adored In thy fair self I find— For the whole sex can but afford The handsome and the kind.
• Chapter 18The clerkly person smiled and said Promise was a pretty maid, But being poor she died unwed.
• Chapter 19Oh, sir, the loftiest hopes on earth Draw lots with meaner hopes: heroic breasts, Breathing bad air, run risk of pestilence; Or, lacking lime-juice when they cross the Line, May languish with the scurvy.
• Chapter 20L’ altra vedete ch’ha fatto alla guancia Della sua palma, sospirando, letto.
• Chapter 21A child forsaken, waking suddenly, Whose gaze afeard on all things round doth rove, And seeth only that it cannot see The meeting eyes of love.
• Chapter 22Hire facounde eke full womanly and plain, No contrefeted termes had she To semen wise.
• Chapter 23Nous câusames longtemps; elle était simple et bonne. Ne sachant pas le mal, elle faisait le bien; Des richesses du coeur elle me fit l’aumône, Et tout en écoutant comme le coeur se donne, Sans oser y penser je lui donnai le mien; Elle emporta ma vie, et n’en sut jamais rien.
• Chapter 24Waiting for Death
• Chapter 25“Your horses of the Sun,” he said, “And first-rate whip Apollo! Whate’er they be, I’ll eat my head, But I will beat them hollow.”
• Chapter 26The offender’s sorrow brings but small relief To him who wears the strong offence’s cross.
• Chapter 27Love seeketh not itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care But for another gives its ease And builds a heaven in hell’s despair
• Chapter 28He beats me and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction! would it were otherwise—that I could beat him while he railed at me.
• Chapter 29Let the high Muse chant loves Olympian: We are but mortals, and must sing of man.
• Chapter 30All times are good to seek your wedded home Bringing a mutual delight.
• Chapter 31I found that no genius in another could please me. My unfortunate paradoxes had entirely dried up that source of comfort.
• Chapter 32Qui veut delasser hors de propos, lasse.
• Chapter 33How will you know the pitch of that great bell Too large for you to stir? Let but a flute Play ’neath the fine-mixed metal: listen close Till the right note flows forth, a silvery rill: Then shall the huge bell tremble—then the mass With myriad waves concurrent shall respond In low soft unison.
• Chapter 34They’ll take suggestion as a cat laps milk.
• Chapter 35Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close; And let us all to meditation.
• Chapter 36Three Love Problems
• Chapter 37Such men as this are feathers, chips, and straws, Carry no weight, no force.
• Chapter 38Non, je ne comprends pas de plus charmant plaisir Que de voir d’heritiers une troupe affligee Le maintien interdit, et la mine allongee, Lire un long testament ou pales, etonnes On leur laisse un bonsoir avec un pied de nez. Pour voir au naturel leur tristesse profonde Je reviendrais, je crois, expres de l’autre monde.
• Chapter 39’Tis strange to see the humors of these men, These great aspiring spirits, that should be wise: ⋮ For being the nature of great spirits to love To be where they may be most eminent; They, rating of themselves so farre above Us in conceit, with whom they do frequent, Imagine how we wonder and esteeme All that they do or say; which makes them strive To make our admiration more extreme, Which they suppose they cannot, ’less they give Notice of their extreme and highest thoughts.
• Chapter 40Thrice happy she that is so well assured Unto herself and settled so in heart That neither will for better be allured Ne fears to worse with any chance to start, But like a steddy ship doth strongly part The raging waves and keeps her course aright; Ne aught for tempest doth from it depart, Ne aught for fairer weather’s false delight. Such self-assurance need not fear the spite Of grudging foes; ne favour seek of friends; But in the stay of her own steadfast might Neither to one herself nor other bends. Most happy she that most assured doth rest, But he most happy who such one loves best.
• Chapter 41C’est beaucoup que le jugement des hommes sur les actions humaines; tôt ou tard il devient efficace.
• Chapter 42If, as I have, you also doe, Vertue attired in woman see, And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She;
• Chapter 43Wise in his daily work was he: To fruits of diligence, And not to faiths or polity, He plied his utmost sense. These perfect in their little parts, Whose work is all their prize— Without them how could laws, or arts, Or towered cities rise?
• Chapter 44By swaggering could I never thrive, For the rain it raineth every day.
• Chapter 45How much, methinks, I could despise this man Were I not bound in charity against it!
• Chapter 46The Dead Hand
• Chapter 47This figure hath high price: ’t was wrought with love Ages ago in finest ivory; Nought modish in it, pure and noble lines Of generous womanhood that fits all time. That too is costly ware; majolica Of deft design, to please a lordly eye: The smile, you see, is perfect—wonderful As mere Faience! a table ornament To suit the richest mounting.
• Chapter 48I would not creep along the coast but steer Out in mid-sea, by guidance of the stars.
• Chapter 49It is the humor of many heads to extol the days of their forefathers, and declaim against the wickedness of times present. Which notwithstanding they cannot handsomely do, without the borrowed help and satire of times past; condemning the vices of their own times, by the expressions of vices in times which they commend, which cannot but argue the community of vice in both. Horace, therefore, Juvenal, and Persius, were no prophets, although their lines did seem to indigitate and point at our times.
• Chapter 50Pues no podemos haber aquello que queremos, queramos aquello que podremos.
• Chapter 51Was never true love loved in vain, For truest love is highest gain. No art can make it: it must spring Where elements are fostering. So in heaven’s spot and hour Springs the little native flower, Downward root and upward eye, Shapen by the earth and sky.
• Chapter 52Surely the golden hours are turning gray And dance no more, and vainly strive to run: I see their white locks streaming in the wind— Each face is haggard as it looks at me, Slow turning in the constant clasping round Storm-driven.
• Chapter 53A task too strong for wizard spells This squire had brought about; ’T is easy dropping stones in wells, But who shall get them out?
• Chapter 54“This Loller here wol precilen us somewhat.” “Nay by my father’s soule! that schal he nat,” Sayde the Schipman, “here schal he not preche, We schal no gospel glosen here ne teche. We leven all in the gret God,” quod he. He wolden sowen some diffcultee.
• Chapter 55Party is Nature too, and you shall see By force of Logic how they both agree: The Many in the One, the One in Many; All is not Some, nor Some the same as Any: Genus holds species, both are great or small; One genus highest, one not high at all; Each species has its differentia too, This is not That, and He was never You, Though this and that are ayes, and you and he Are like as one to one, or three to three.
• Chapter 56His heart The lowliest duties on itself did lay.
• Chapter 57It is but a shallow haste which concludeth insincerity from what outsiders call inconsistency—putting a dead mechanism of “ifs” and “therefores” for the living myriad of hidden suckers whereby the belief and the conduct are wrought into mutual sustainment.
• Chapter 58The Widow and the Wife
• Chapter 59Negli occhi porta la mia donna Amore; Per che si fa gentil ciò ch’ella mira: Ov’ella passa, ogni uom ver lei si gira, E cui saluta fa tremar lo core. Sicchè, bassando il viso, tutto smore, E d’ogni suo difetto allor sospira: Fuggon dinanzi a lei Superbia ed Ira: Aiutatemi, donne, a farle onore. Ogni dolcezza, ogni pensiero umile Nasce nel core a chi parlar la sente; Ond’è beato chi prima la vide. Quel ch’ella par quand’ un poco sorride, Non si può dicer, nè tener a mente, Si è nuovo miracolo gentile.
• Chapter 60Hath she her faults? I would you had them too. They are the fruity must of soundest wine; Or say, they are regenerating fire Such as hath turned the dense black element Into a crystal pathway for the sun.
• Chapter 61How happy is he born and taught That serveth not another’s will; Whose armor is his honest thought, And simple truth his only skill! ⋮ This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise or fear to fall; Lord of himself though not of lands; And having nothing yet hath all.
• Chapter 62They numbered scarce eight summers when a name Rose on their souls and stirred such motions there As thrill the buds and shape their hidden frame At penetration of the quickening air: His name who told of loyal Evan Dhu, Of quaint Bradwardine, and Vich Ian Vor, Making the little world their childhood knew Large with a land of mountain lake and scaur, And larger yet with wonder, love, belief Toward Walter Scott who living far away Sent them this wealth of joy and noble grief. The book and they must part, but day by day, In lines that thwart like portly spiders ran They wrote the tale, from Tully Veolan.
• Chapter 63For there can live no hatred in thine eye, Therefore in that I cannot know thy change: In many’s looks the false heart’s history Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange: But Heaven in thy creation did decree That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell: Whate’er thy thoughts or thy heart’s workings be Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness tell.
• Chapter 64They said of old the Soul had human shape, But smaller, subtler than the fleshly self, So wandered forth for airing when it pleased. And see! beside her cherub-face there floats A pale-lipped form aerial whispering Its promptings in that little shell her ear.
• Chapter 65Good phrases are surely, and ever were, very commendable.
• Chapter 66“Inconsistencies,” answered Imlac, “cannot both be right, but imputed to man they may both be true.”
• Chapter 67He was a squyer of lowe degre, That loved the king’s daughter of Hungrie.
• Chapter 68Two Temptations
• Chapter 69These little things are great to little man.
• Chapter 70Where lies the power, there let the blame lie too.
• Chapter 71One of us two must bowen douteless, And, sith a man is more reasonable Than woman is, ye [men] moste be suffrable.
• Chapter 72’Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus, Another thing to fall.
• Chapter 73Now is there civil war within the soul: Resolve is thrust from off the sacred throne By clamorous Needs, and Pride the grand-vizier Makes humble compact, plays the supple part Of envoy and deft-tongued apologist For hungry rebels.
• Chapter 74What suit of grace hath Virtue to put on If Vice shall wear as good, and do as well? If Wrong, if Craft, if Indiscretion Act as fair parts with ends as laudable? Which all this mighty volume of events The world, the universal map of deeds, Strongly controls, and proves from all descents, That the directest course still best succeeds. For should not grave and learn’d Experience That looks with the eyes of all the world beside, And with all ages holds intelligence, Go safer than Deceit without a guide!
• Chapter 75If thou hast heard a word, let it die with thee.
• Chapter 76Our deeds still travel with us from afar, And what we have been makes us what we are.
• Chapter 77… ’Twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where, indeed, you have a delight to sit, have you not?
• Chapter 78Sunset and Sunrise
• Chapter 79Full souls are double mirrors, making still An endless vista of fair things before, Repeating things behind.
• Chapter 80Pity the laden one; this wandering woe May visit you and me.
• Chapter 81Mercifully grant that we may grow aged together.
• Chapter 82Le sentiment de la fausseté des plaisirs présents, et lignorance de la vanité des plaisirs absents causent linconstance.
• Chapter 83To mercy, pity, peace, and love All pray in their distress, And to these virtues of delight, Return their thankfulness.
• Chapter 84And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot, To mark the full-fraught man and best indued With some suspicion.
• Chapter 85Would it were yesterday and I i’ the grave, With her sweet faith above for monument.
• Chapter 86Now, I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended their talk, they drew nigh to a very miry slough, that was in the midst of the plain; and they, being heedless, did both fall suddenly into the bog. The name of the slough was Despond.
• Chapter 87Stern lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead’s most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face; Flowers laugh before thee on their beds, And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the Stars from wrong; And the most ancient Heavens, through thee, are fresh and strong.
• Chapter 88Du Erde warst auch diese Nacht beständig, Und athmest neu erquickt zu meinen Füssen, Beginnest schon mit Lust mich zu umgeben, Du regst und rührst ein kräftiges Beschliessen Zum höchsten Dasein immerfort zu streben.
• Chapter 89My grief lies onward and my joy behind.
• Chapter 90And now good-morrow to our waking souls Which watch not one another out of fear; For love all love of other sights controls, And makes one little room, an everywhere.
• Chapter 91Though it be songe of old and yonge, That I sholde be to blame, Theyrs be the charge, that spoke so large In hurtynge of my name.
• Chapter 92Then went the jury out whose names were Mr. Blindman, Mr. No-good, Mr. Malice, Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr. Enmity, Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, Mr. Implacable, who everyone gave in his private verdict against him among themselves, and afterwards unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty before the judge. And first among themselves, Mr. Blindman, the foreman, said, I see clearly that this man is a heretic. Then said Mr. No-good, Away with such a fellow from the earth! Ay, said Mr. Malice, for I hate the very look of him. Then said Mr. Love-lust, I could never endure him. Nor I, said Mr. Live-loose; for he would be always condemning my way. Hang him, hang him, said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. High-mind. My heart riseth against him, said Mr. Enmity. He is a rogue, said Mr. Liar. Hanging is too good for him, said Mr. Cruelty. Let us despatch him out of the way said Mr. Hate-light. Then said Mr. Implacable, Might I have all the world given me, I could not be reconciled to him; therefore let us forthwith bring him in guilty of death.
• Chapter 93Le coeur se sature d’amour comme d’un sel divin qui le conserve; de la l’incorruptible adherence de ceux qui se sont aimes des l’aube de la vie, et la fraicheur des vielles amours prolonges. Il existe un embaumement d’amour. C’est de Daphnis et Chloe que sont faits Philemon et Baucis. Cette vieillesse la, ressemblance du soir avec l’aurore.
• Chapter 94Every limit is a beginning as well as an ending. Who can quit young lives after being long in company with them, and not desire to know what befell them in their after-years? For the fragment of a life, however typical, is not the sample of an even web: promises may not be kept, and an ardent outset may be followed by declension; latent powers may find their long-waited opportunity; a past error may urge a grand retrieval.