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XXXI. Blame—Fury

           "WhilstIwouldhavegivenworldstotouchyourhand,youhaveletarakecomeinwithoutrightorceremonyand—kissyou!Heaven’smercy—kissyou!…Ah,atimeofhislifeshallcomewhenhewillhavetorepent,andthinkwretchedlyofthepainhehascausedanotherman;andthenmayheache,andwish,andcurse,andyearn—asIdonow!"

           "Don’t,don’t,oh,don’tpraydowneviluponhim!"sheimploredinamiserablecry."Anythingbutthat—anything.Oh,bekindtohim,sir,forIlovehimtrue!"

           Boldwood’sideashadreachedthatpointoffusionatwhichoutlineandconsistencyentirelydisappear.Theimpendingnightappearedtoconcentrateinhiseye.Hedidnothearheratallnow.

           "I’llpunishhim—bymysoul,thatwillI!I’llmeethim,soldierorno,andI’llhorsewhiptheuntimelystriplingforthisrecklesstheftofmyonedelight.IfhewereahundredmenI’dhorsewhiphim—"Hedroppedhisvoicesuddenlyandunnaturally."Bathsheba,sweet,lostcoquette,pardonme!I’vebeenblamingyou,threateningyou,behavinglikeachurltoyou,whenhe’sthegreatestsinner.Hestoleyourdearheartawaywithhisunfathomablelies!…Itisafortunatethingforhimthathe’sgonebacktohisregiment—thathe’sawayupthecountry,andnothere!Ihopehemaynotreturnherejustyet.IprayGodhemaynotcomeintomysight,forImaybetemptedbeyondmyself.Oh,Bathsheba,keephimaway—yes,keephimawayfromme!"

           ForamomentBoldwoodstoodsoinertlyafterthisthathissoulseemedtohavebeenentirelyexhaledwiththebreathofhispassionatewords.

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