Dick Swiveller and the Marchioness

"Dick Swiveller and the Marchioness" is a novella by Charles Dickens, originally included in "The Old Curiosity Shop." The story follows the whimsical yet poignant relationship between the lovable and somewhat bumbling Dick Swiveller and the innocent, sweet-natured Marchioness. Dick, an imaginative and carefree character, finds himself navigating the challenges of his life while protecting and caring for the vulnerable Marchioness, who is often caught in difficult circumstances. Their friendship unfolds in a blend of humor and pathos, showcasing Dickens's signature ability to highlight the struggles of the downtrodden and the importance of kindness and compassion in a harsh world.

• Children

								
RICHARD SWIVELLER, a good-hearted, though somewhat queer young man, the
clerk of Sampson Brass, a scheming lawyer, often found time hanging
heavily on his hands; and for the better preservation of his
cheerfulness therefore, and to prevent his faculties from rusting, he
provided himself with a cribbage-board and pack of cards, and accustomed
himself to play at cribbage with a dummy, for twenty, thirty, or
sometimes even fifty thousand pounds a side, besides many hazardous bets
to a considerable amount.

As these games were very silently conducted, notwithstanding the
greatness of the interests involved, Mr. Swiveller, began to think that
on those evenings when Mr. and Miss Brass were out (and they often went
out now) he heard a kind of snorting or hard-breathing sound in the
direction of the door, which it occurred to him, after some thought,
must proceed from the small servant, who always had a cold from damp
living. Looking intently that way one night, he plainly distinguished an
eye gleaming and glistening at the keyhole; and having now no doubt that
his suspicions were correct, he stole softly to the door and pounced
upon her before she was aware of his approach.

"Oh! I didn't mean any harm indeed. Upon my word I didn't," cried the
small servant, struggling like a much larger one. "It's so very dull
down-stairs. Please don't you tell upon me; please don't."

"Tell upon you!" said Dick. "Do you mean to say you were looking through
the keyhole for company?"

"Yes, upon my word I was," replied the small servant.

"How long have you been cooling your eye there?" said Dick.

"Oh, ever since you first began to play them cards, and long before."

Vague recollections of several fantastic exercises such as dancing
around the room, and bowing to imaginary people with which he had
refreshed himself after the fatigues of business; all of which, no
doubt, the small servant had seen through the keyhole, made Mr.
Swiveller feel rather awkward; but he was not very sensitive on such
points, and recovered himself speedily.

"Well--come in," he said, after a little thought. "Here--sit down, and
I'll teach you how to play."

"Oh! I durstn't do it," rejoined the small servant. "Miss Sally 'ud kill
me, if she know'd I came up here."

"Have you got a fire down-stairs?" said Dick.

"A very little one," replied the small servant.

"Miss Sally couldn't kill me if she know'd I went down there, so I'll
come," said Richard, putting the cards into his pocket. "Why, how thin
you are! What do you mean by it?"

"It ain't my fault."

"Could you eat any bread and meat?" said Dick, taking down his hat.
"Yes? Ah! I thought so. Did you ever taste beer?"

"I had a sip of it once," said the small servant.

"Here's a state of things!" cried Mr. Swiveller, raising his eyes to the
ceiling. "She never tasted it--it can't be tasted in a sip! Why, how
old are you?"

"I don't know."

Mr. Swiveller opened his eyes very wide and appeared thoughtful for a
moment; then, bidding the child mind the door until he came back,
vanished straightway.

Presently he returned, followed by the boy from the public house, who
bore in one hand a plate of bread and beef and in the other a great pot,
filled with some very fragrant compound, which sent forth a grateful
steam, and was indeed choice purl made after a particular rule which Mr.
Swiveller had given to the landlord at a period when he was deep in his
books and desirous to win his friendship. Relieving the boy of his
burden at the door, and charging his little companion to fasten it to
prevent surprise, Mr. Swiveller followed her into the kitchen.

"There!" said Richard, putting the plate before her. "First of all,
clear that off, and then you'll see what's next."

The small servant needed no second bidding, and the plate was soon
empty.

"Next," said Dick, handing the purl, "take a pull at that; but moderate
your delight, you know, for you're not used to it. Well, is it good?"

"Oh! isn't it?" said the small servant.

Mr. Swiveller appeared gratified beyond all expression by this reply,
and took a long draught himself, steadfastly regarding his companion
while he did so. These matters disposed of, he applied himself to
teaching her the game, which she soon learnt tolerably well, being both
sharp-witted and cunning.

"Now," said Mr. Swiveller, putting two sixpences into a saucer, and
trimming the wretched candle, when the cards had been cut and dealt,
"those are the stakes. If you win, you get 'em all. If I win, I get 'em.
To make it seem more real and pleasant, I shall call you the
Marchioness, do you hear?"

The small servant nodded.

"Marchioness," as the reader knows, is a title to a lady of very high
rank, and such Mr. Swiveller chose to imagine this small servant to be.

"Then, Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, "fire away!"

The Marchioness, holding her cards very tight in both hands, considered
which to play, and Mr. Swiveller, assuming the gay and fashionable air
which such society required, took another pull at the jug and waited for
her to lead in the game.

Mr. Swiveller and his partner played several rubbers with varying
success, until the loss of three sixpences, the gradual sinking of the
purl, and the striking of ten o'clock, combined to render that gentleman
mindful of the flight of time, and the wisdom of withdrawing before Mr.
Sampson and Miss Sally Brass returned.

"With which object in view, Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller gravely, "I
shall ask your ladyship's permission to put the board in my pocket, and
to retire from the presence when I have finished this glass; merely
observing, Marchioness, that since life like a river is flowing, I care
not how fast it rolls on, ma'am, on, while such purl on the bank still
is growing, and such eyes light the waves as they run. Marchioness, your
health! You will excuse my wearing my hat but the palace is damp, and
the marble floor is--if I may be allowed the expression--sloppy."

As a protection against this latter inconvenience Mr. Swiveller had been
sitting for some time with his feet on the hob, in which attitude he now
gave utterance to these apologetic observations, and slowly sipped the
last choice drops of nectar.

"The Baron Sampsono Brasso and his fair sister are (you tell me) at the
Play?" said Mr. Swiveller, leaning his left arm heavily upon the table,
and raising his voice and his right leg after the manner of a bandit in
the theater.

The Marchioness nodded.

"Ha!" said Mr. Swiveller with a portentous frown. "'Tis well,
Marchioness!--but no matter. Some wine there. Ho!" He illustrated these
melodramatic morsels by handing the glass to himself with great

								Rate this book:0.0 / 0 votes