Олівер Твіст

Chapter 33

           Allthelivelongday,andforhoursafterithadgrowndark,Oliverpacedsoftlyupanddownthegarden,raisinghiseyeseveryinstanttothesickchamber,andshudderingtoseethedarkenedwindow,lookingasifdeathlaystretchedinside.Latethatnight,Mr.Losbernearrived.‘Itishard,’saidthegooddoctor,turningawayashespoke;‘soyoung;somuchbeloved;butthereisverylittlehope.

           Anothermorning.Thesunshonebrightly;asbrightlyasifitlookeduponnomiseryorcare;and,witheveryleafandflowerinfullbloomabouther;withlife,andhealth,andsoundsandsightsofjoy,surroundingheroneveryside:thefairyoungcreaturelay,wastingfast.Olivercreptawaytotheoldchurchyard,andsittingdownononeofthegreenmounds,weptandprayedforher,insilence.

           Therewassuchpeaceandbeautyinthescene;somuchofbrightnessandmirthinthesunnylandscape;suchblithesomemusicinthesongsofthesummerbirds;suchfreedomintherapidflightoftherook,careeringoverhead;somuchoflifeandjoyousnessinall;that,whentheboyraisedhisachingeyes,andlookedabout,thethoughtinstinctivelyoccurredtohim,thatthiswasnotatimefordeath;thatRosecouldsurelyneverdiewhenhumblerthingswereallsogladandgay;thatgraveswereforcoldandcheerlesswinter:notforsunlightandfragrance.Healmostthoughtthatshroudswerefortheoldandshrunken;andthattheyneverwrappedtheyoungandgracefulformintheirghastlyfolds.

           Aknellfromthechurchbellbrokeharshlyontheseyouthfulthoughts.

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