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"I sees hit, breddren! I sees hit! Sees de blastin, blindin sight! I sees
Calvary, wid de sacred trees, sees de thief en de murderer en de least of
dese; I hears de boastin en de braggin: Ef you be Jesus, lif up yo tree en
walk! I hears de wailin of women en de evenin lamentations; I hears de weepin
en de cryin en de turns-away face of God: dey done kilt Jesus; dey done kilt
my Son!"
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm. Jesus! I sees, O Jesus!"
"O blind sinner! Breddren, I tells you; sistuhn, I says to you, when de
Lawd did turn His mighty face, say, Aint "wine overload heaven! I can see de
widowed God shet His do; I sees de whelmin flood roll between; I sees de
darkness en de death everlastin upon de generations. Den, lo! Breddren! Yes,
breddren! Whut I see? Whut I see, O sinner? I sees de resurrection en de
light; sees de meek Jesus sayin Dey kilt me dat ye shall live again; I died
dat dem whut sees en believes shall never die. Breddren, O breddren! I sees de
doom crack en de golden horns shoutin down de glory, en de arisen dead whut
got de blood en de ricklickshun of de Lamb!"
In the midst of the voices and the hands Ben sat, rapt in his sweet blue
gaze. Dilsey sat bolt upright beside, crying rigidly and quietly in the
annealment and the blood of the remembered Lamb.
As they walked through the bright noon, up the sandy road with the
dispersing congregation talking easily again group to group, she continued to
weep, unmindful of the talk.
"He sho a preacher, mon!! He didn't look like much at first, but hush!"
"He seed de power en de glory."
"Yes, suh. He seed hit. Face to face he seed hit."
Dilsey made no sound, her face did not quiver as the tears took their sunken
and devious courses, walking with her head up, making no effort to dry them
away even.
"Whyn't you quit dat, mammy?" Frony said. "Wid all dese people lookin. We
be passin white folks soon."
"I've seed de first en de last," Dilsey said. "Never you mind me."
"First en last whut?" Frony said.
"Never you mind," Dilsey said. "I seed de beginnin, en now I sees de
endin."
Before they reached the street though she stopped and lifted her skirt
and dried her eyes on the hem of her topmost underskirt. Then they went on.
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Ben shambled along beside Dilsey, watching Luster who anticked along ahead,
the umbrella in his hand and his new straw hat slanted viciously in the
sunlight, like a big foolish dog watching a small clever one. They reached the
gate and entered. Immediately Ben began to whimper again, and for a while all
of them looked up the drive at the square, paintless house with its rotting
portico.
"Whut's gwine on up dar today?" Frony said. "Somethin is."
"Nothin," Dilsey said. "You tend to yo business en let de whitefolks tend
to deir'n."
"Somethin is," Frony said. "I heard him first thing dis mawnin. 'Taint
none of my business, dough."
"En I knows whut, too," Luster said.
"You knows mo den you got any use fer," Dilsey said. "Aint you jes heard
Frony say hit aint none of yo business? You take Benjy on to de back and keep
him quiet swell I put dinner on."
"I knows whar Miss Quentin is," Luster said.
"Den jes keep hit," Dilsey said. "Soon es Quentin need any of yo egvice,
I'll let you know. Y'all g'awn en play in de back, now."
"You know whut gwine happen soon es dey start playin dat ball over
yonder," Luster said.
"Dey wont start fer a while yit. By dat time T. P. be here to take him
ridin. Here, you gimme dat new hat."
Luster gave her the hat and he and Ben went on across the back yard. Ben
was still whimpering, though not loud. Dilsey and Frony went to the
cabin. After a while Dilsey emerged, again in the faded calico dress, and went
to the kitchen. The fire had died down. There was no sound in the house. She
put on the apron and went up stairs. There was no sound anywhere. Quentin's
room was as they had left it. She entered and picked up the undergarment and
put the stocking back in the drawer and closed it. Mrs Compson's door was
closed. Dilsey stood beside it for a moment, listening. Then she opened it and
entered, entered a pervading reek of camphor. The shades were drawn, the room
in halflight, and the bed, so that at first she thought Mrs Compson was asleep
and was about to close the door when the other spoke.
"Well?" she said. "What is it?"
"Hit's me," Dilsey said. "You want anything?"
Mrs Compson didn't answer. After a while, without moving her head at all,
she said: "Where's Jason?"
"He aint come back yit," Dilsey said. "Whut you want?"
Mrs Compson said nothing. Like so many cold, weak people, when faced at
last by the incontrovertible disaster she exhumed from somewhere a sort of
fortitude, strength. In her case it was an unshakable conviction regarding the
yet unplumbed event. "Well," she said presently. "Did you find it?"
"Find whut? Whut you talkin about?"
"The note. At least she would have enough consideration to leave a note.
Even Quentin did that."
"Whut you talkin about?" Dilsey said. "Dont you know she all right? I bet
she be walkin right in dis do befo dark."
"Fiddlesticks," Mrs Compson said. "It's in the blood. Like uncle, like
niece. Or mother. I dont know which would be worse. I dont seem to care."
"Whut you keep on talkin that way fur?" Dilsey said. "Whut she want to do
anything like that fur?"
"I dont know. What reason did Quentin have? Under God's heaven what
reason did he have? It cant be simply to flout and hurt me. Whoever God is, He
would not permit that. I'm a lady. You might not believe that from my
offspring, but I am."
"You des wait en see," Dilsey said. "She be here by night, right dar in
her bed." Mrs Compson said nothing. The camphor soaked cloth lay upon her
brow. The black robe lay across the foot of the bed. Dilsey stood with her
hand on the door knob.
"Well," Mrs Compson said. "What do you want? Are you going to fix some
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dinner for Jason and Benjamin, or not?"
"Jason aint come yit," Dilsey said. "I gwine fix somethin. You sho you
dont want nothin? Yo bottle still hot enough?"
"You might hand me my bible."
"I give hit to you dis mawnin, befo I left."
"You laid it on the edge of the bed. How long did you expect it to stay
there?"
Dilsey crossed to the bed and groped among the shadows beneath the edge
of it and found the bible, face down. She smoothed the bent pages and laid the
book on the bed again. Mrs Compson didn't open her eyes. Her hair and the
pillow were the same color, beneath the wimple of the medicated cloth she
looked like an old nun praying. "Dont put it there again," she said, without
opening her eyes. "That's where you put it before. Do you want me to have to
get out of bed to pick it up?"
Dilsey reached the book across her and laid it on the broad side of the
bed. "You cant see to read, noways," she said. "You want me to raise de shade
a little?"
"No. Let them alone. Go on and fix Jason something to eat."
Dilsey went out. She closed the door and returned to the kitchen. The
stove was almost cold. While she stood there the clock above the cupboard
struck ten times. "One oclock," she said aloud. "Jason aint comin home. Ise
seed de first en de last," she said, looking at the cold stove. "I seed de
first en de last." She set out some cold food on a table. As she moved back
and forth she sang, a hymn. She sang the first two lines over and over to the
complete tune. She arranged the meal and went to the door and called Luster,
and after a time Luster and Ben entered. Ben was still moaning a little, as to
himself.
"He aint never quit," Luster said.
"Y'all come on en eat," Dilsey said. "Jason aint comin to dinner." They
sat down at the table. Ben could manage solid food pretty well for himself,
though even now, with cold food before him, Dilsey tied a cloth about his
neck. He and Luster ate. Dilsey moved about the kitchen, singing the two lines
of the hymn which she remembered. "Y'all kin g'awn en eat," she said. "Jason
aint comin home."
He was twenty miles away at that time. When he left the house he drove [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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