Father (Mr Compson) | 192 | Show |
Mr Compson is easily the most dominant of the narrative sources. He tells Quentin his version of the Sutpen story in chapters 2-4. His letter to Quentin about Rosa's death frames the Harvard section of the novel (chapters 6-9), and even in that setting Quentin keeps hearing his father's voice (147, 210) and repeating what "father said." Born around the time Bon and Sutpen died, he could have met Sutpen's other descendants, but other than his report of Rosa's funeral, none of his descriptions are firsthand accounts. He follows Rosa as the second story-teller, and he seems more rational and less prejudiced than her, though it's important to consider how his assumptions about women and blacks color his versions of characters and events. As Shreve points out (214, 220), both his ignorance and his knowledge of the story are inconsistent. For example, he apparently knows about Sutpen's first son from the start (see 48) – then seemingly forgets that for over 150 pages (see 214).
- "Then one day he quitted Jefferson for the second | Page 33
- "The town should have been accustomed to that | Pages 33-34
- "So at last civic virtue came to a boil. | Page 34
- All I ever heard is how the town, the men | Pages 34-35
- "So they sat on their horses and waited for him. | Pages 35-36
- "They waited for him again. The crowd was | Page 36
- They took him back to town, with the ladies | Page 36
- and late that afternoon he returned home | Pages 36-37
- Two months later, he and Miss Ellen were married. | Page 37
- "It was the wedding which caused the tears: not | Page 37
- (I dont speak of Ellen, of course; in fact, you will notice | Page 37
- of the two men it was Sutpen who desired | Pages 37-39
- "When they were married, there were just ten people | Page 39
- That was the other half of the reason for Ellen's tears. | Pages 39-40
- like he must have been from the day when | Page 40
- Just the same age that Henry was that night | Page 40
- set out into a world which even in theory, | Pages 40-41
- that unsleeping care which must have known that | Page 41
- when they reached the church for the rehearsal | Pages 41-42
- though by the next day it had become just quiet | Page 42
- She spent all the next day going from house | Page 42
- even twenty years after that day, when he would | Page 42
- "She covered the town that morning. It did | Page 42
- by nightfall the circumstances of the situation had spread | Pages 42-43
- which they were holding at the door when the carriage | Pages 43-44
- faces which even Ellen was not to remember, | Pages 44-45
- After Mr Coldfield died in '64, Miss Rosa moved out | Page 46
- She (Miss Rosa) was born in 1845, with her sister | Pages 46-47
- - that man who was later to nail himself in | Page 47
- - and the aunt who even ten years later was still | Page 47
- Perhaps she saw in her father's death, in the | Pages 47-48
- (Yes, Clytie was his daughter too: Clytemnestra. He named | Page 48
- the one before Clytie and Henry and Judith even, | Page 48
- Only I have always liked to believe that he intended | Page 48
- When he returned home in '66, she had not | Pages 48-49
- And on the four or five occasions during the year | Pages 49-50
- That was the face which, when she saw it at all, | Page 50
- until the night the aunt climbed out the window | Page 50
- there was not only no one to make her try | Pages 50-51
- (and who would have been, if her life had not | Page 51
- and against Judith already taller than Ellen, and Henry | Pages 51-52
- Then one year they did not go. Doubtless Mr Coldfield | Pages 52-53
- Now the period began which ended in the catastrophe | Page 53
- Although she was not to see Sutpen again for years, | Pages 53-54
- Often twice and sometimes three times a week | Pages 54-55
- and one time, in the summer when Judith was seventeen, | Page 55
- They would enter that dim grim tight little house | Pages 55-56
- When they came to town next and the carriage | Page 56
- That summer she saw Henry again too. She | Page 56
- although he had been home Christmas with his friend | Page 56
- So she did not see him until the following summer, | Page 56
- Because Sutpen was acting his role too. He had | Pages 56-57
- "There goes - " your grandmother said. But Miss Rosa | Page 57
- Then she stopped seeing Ellen even. That is, | Pages 57-58
- then to come to the house and fill it too | Page 58
- Charles Bon of New Orleans, Henry's friend who was | Page 58
- Miss Rosa never saw him; this was a picture, an image. | Pages 58-59
- This, while Miss Rosa, not listening, who had got | Pages 59-60
- It sounded like a fairy tale when Ellen | Page 60
- But to Miss Rosa it must have been authentic, | Page 60
- Naturally there is no known rejoinder to this. | Page 60
- She could not have got it anywhere else. | Page 60
- So she would have to get the material | Pages 60-61
- So she didn't even see Ellen anymore. Apparently | Page 61
- Henry had just vanished. She heard of that too | Pages 61-62
- Henry just vanished: she heard just what the town | Page 62
- And Ellen was not visible (she seemed to have retired | Page 62
- though, the town believed, not at the upset of the marriage | Pages 62-63
- She was still doing that when Mississippi seceded and | Page 63
- The fat, the stomach, came later. It came upon him | Pages 63-64
- She did not see the regiment depart because | Page 64
- (but not the marriage of the aunt; it was Miss Rosa | Page 64
- had been duly entered in his neat clerk's hand, | Page 64
- Then one morning he learned that his store | Pages 64-65
- Now Miss Rosa's life consisted of keeping it in herself | Page 65
- which when your grandfather saw it in 1885 | Page 65
- Then he died. One morning the hand did not | Pages 65-66
- Even the two negresses which he had freed | Page 66
- So when he died, he had nothing, not only saved | Page 66
- So Miss Rosa was both pauper and orphan, with | Page 66
- Ellen was dead two years now - the butterfly, | Pages 66-67
- (Henry up to now was just vanished, his birthright | Page 67
- to protect the remaining child. So the natural thing | Pages 67-68
- Because that's what a Southern lady is. | Page 68
- That's what she would have been expected to do. | Pages 68-69
- The first intimation she had had in four years | Page 69
- "Because Henry loved Bon. He repudiated blood birthright | Page 71
- and on whose dead body four years later | Page 71
- So much so that he (Henry) could give his father | Pages 71-72
- and must have repeated while he and Bon | Page 72
- I can imagine him and Sutpen in the library | Page 72
- That was why the four years, the probation. | Page 72
- not to speak of what he learned, saw with his own | Page 72
- this man, this youth scarcely twenty, who had | Pages 72-73
- "It was Henry's probation; Henry holding all three | Page 73
- until that afternoon four years later when | Page 73
- she just waked the next morning and they | Page 73
- And Bon: Henry would have no more told | Page 73
- Bon must have learned of Sutpen's visit to | Pages 73-74
- He is the curious one to me. He came | Pages 74-75
- Because you will see the letter, not the first | Page 75
- but because she brought it herself and gave | Page 75
- Because he was her first and last sweetheart. She must | Pages 75-76
- this man whom Henry first saw riding perhaps | Pages 76-77
- Perhaps that is what went on, not in Henry's mind | Page 77
- "Yes, Henry: not Bon, as witness the entire queerly placid | Page 77
- Henry who up to that time had never even been | Pages 77-78
- this man who later showed the same indolence, | Pages 78-79
- And yet, four years later, Henry had to kill | Page 79
- So it must have been Henry who seduced Judith, | Page 79
- that telepathy with which as children they seemed | Page 79
- "You see? there they are: this girl, this young countrybred | Pages 79-80
- "They came from the University to spend | Page 80
- yet to remember so that four years later | Pages 80-81
- Ellen, the esoteric, the almost baroque, the almost | Page 81
- Sutpen, the man whom, after seeing once and | Page 81
- They stayed two weeks and rode back to school | Page 81
- they passed the long term before the summer vacation | Page 81
- and Ellen and Judith now shopping two and three | Pages 81-82
- and Sutpen, who had seen Bon once and was in | Page 82
- "Then June came and the end of the school year | Page 82
- Yet there was the body which Miss Rosa saw, | Pages 82-83
- And this: the fact that even an undefined and never-spoken | Page 83
- Then Bon rode on to the River and took the | Page 83
- But Henry did not go this time. He rode | Page 83
- But Bon did return. He and Henry met again | Pages 83-84
- and it came to him: Christmas, and Henry and Bon | Page 84
- "They went to New Orleans. They rode through the | Pages 84-85
- Bon who for a year and a half now | Page 85
- Yet here is the letter, sent four years afterward, | Page 85
- So whether Henry now knew about the other woman | Pages 85-86
- "And I can imagine how Bon told Henry, | Pages 86-87
- So I can imagine him, the way he did it, | Pages 87-88
- a trap, a riding horse standing before a scarce-seen | Pages 88-89
- a wall, unscalable, a gate ponderously locked, | Pages 89-90
- being carried by the friend, the mentor, through one | Pages 90-91
- and returned to Bon's rooms, for that while impotent | Pages 91-94
- "So that was all. It should have been all; | Page 94
- That spring they returned north, into Mississippi. | Pages 94-95
- "And Judith: how else to explain her but | Page 95
- who while Henry screamed and vomited, looked | Page 95
- Because she could not have known the reason | Pages 95-96
- Judith, giving implicit trust where she had given | Page 96
- the same two calm impenetrable faces seen together | Pages 96-97
- because Bon and Henry enrolled and then hid themselves | Pages 97-98
- they did not join the company until after it | Page 98
- He received a lieutenancy before the company | Page 98
- the private who carried that officer, shot through | Pages 98-99
- "And Judith. She lived alone now. Perhaps she | Page 99
- and the negroes - the wild stock with which he had | Page 99
- she lived in anything but solitude, what with Ellen | Page 99
- and Wash Jones, living in the abandoned and rotting | Page 99
- who until Sutpen went away had never approached | Page 99
- not solitude and certainly not idleness: the same | Pages 99-100
- to join the other women where - there were wounded | Pages 99-100
- Then Ellen died, the butterfly of a forgotten summer | Page 100
- (Colonel Sutpen now, since Sartoris had been deposed | Page 100
- brought in the regimental forage wagon from Charleston | Page 100
- And then her grandfather died, starved to death nailed | Page 100
- waiting too apparently upon this letter, this first | Page 100
- and which, a week after she buried him too | Pages 100-101
- "Now you can see why I said that he loved | Page 102
- But keeping this one which must have reached | Page 102
- "And that's all," Mr Compson said. "She received it | Page 105
- and maybe he told Henry, showed Henry the letter | Page 105
- the ultimatum discharged before the gate to | Page 105
- " - and then Wash Jones sitting that saddleless mule | Page 106
- My dear son, Miss Rosa Coldfield was buried yesterday. | Pages 141-142
- but produced complete and subject to no microbe | Pages 159-160
- (they made, they must have made, that week's journey | Page 160
- and so could have only suspected, surmised, where | Page 160
- (Because there was love Mr Compson said | Page 168
- Beautiful lives - women do. In very breathing they | Page 171
- He had been the executor of her father's estate, | Pages 171-172
- (he, Benbow, had in his office a portfolio, | Page 172
- "Yes," Shreve said; "Mr Coldfield: what was that?" | Pages 208-209
- hated that country so much that he was even | Page 209
- Only Father said that that wasn't it now, | Page 210
- " - said how he must have stood there on the | Pages 214-215
- Then Henry and Bon went back to school and | Pages 215-216
- and the next Christmas came and Henry and Bon | Pages 216-217
- He had returned. He was home again where his problem | Pages 223-224
- It broke down, it vanished into that old impotent | Page 224
- that after he went away with the regiment | Pages 225-226
- Maybe he even delivered the first string | Pages 226-227
- (Father said Judith actually did this; this was no lie | Pages 228-229
- " - walked the three miles and back before midnight | Page 230
- until daylight came and the granddaughter stopped screaming | Pages 230-231
- and maybe still standing there and holding the stallion's | Page 231
- " - sat there all that day in the little window | Pages 231-233
- didn't your father say how she had even taken | Page 263
- - or perhaps there is. Surely it can harm no one to believe | Pages 301-302
|
Narrator | 124 | Show |
Absalom, Absalom! is a third-person narrative, in which the accounts of its various story-tellers are embedded. The novel's third-person narrator plays a part in every chapter, mainly to describe the settings and actions in the novel's 20th-century present. The narrator also provides descriptions of the story-tellers, and occasionally reflects upon (but does not decide between) their accounts. The third-person description of Sutpen's first years in Yoknapatawpha in chapter 2 (23-32) is the narrator's longest representation of the novel's 19th-century past, and even in that passage the narrator frequently relies on what "General Compson" or "Rosa Coldfield" said. Although seemingly more reliable than the other sources, this narrator is explicitly not omniscient: for example, see the repetitions of the phrase "probably true enough" on page 268.
- From a little after two oclock until almost sundown | Pages 3-4
- Then hearing would reconcile and he would | Pages 4-5
- "Yessum," Quentin said. Only she dont mean that he thought. | Page 5
- he had received by the hand of a small negro | Pages 5-6
- He obeyed it immediately after the noon meal, | Page 6
- It's because she wants it told he thought | Page 6
- - a woman who even in his (Quentin's) father's youth | Page 6
- and the nephew who served for four years | Pages 6-7
- It would be three hours yet before he would learn | Page 7
- Quentin had grown up with that; the mere names | Page 7
- ("But why tell me about it?" he said to | Pages 7-8
- Whatever her reason for choosing him, whether it was | Pages 8-9
- "Yessum," Quentin said. "Yes," the grim quiet voice | Pages 14-15
- It should have been later than it was; | Page 15
- It was a summer of wistaria. The twilight was | Page 23
- the odor, the scent, which five months later | Page 23
- the listening, the hearing in 1909 even yet | Page 23
- - a Sunday morning in June with the bells | Pages 23-24
- That was all that the town was to know | Page 24
- - the strong spent horse and the clothes | Page 24
- of which Miss Coldfield told Quentin | Page 24
- with the butts worn smooth as pickhandles and | Pages 24-27
- He had a room in the Holston House | Page 25
- it was years later before even Quentin's grandfather | Page 25
- it would be years yet before he would become | Page 25
- So they would catch him, run him to earth, | Page 25
- It was the Chickasaw Indian agent with or | Pages 25-26
- But he owned land among them now and | Page 26
- what Sutpen's future and then unborn sister-in-law | Page 26
- that he had found some unique and practical way | Page 26
- And until he passed through town on his way back | Page 26
- and he did not have much chance to look at Jefferson | Pages 26-27
- So the legend of the wild men came gradually | Pages 27-28
- So he and the twenty negroes worked together, | Page 28
- But he was a good architect; Quentin knew | Pages 28-29
- (even General Compson did not know yet) | Page 29
- and so created out of Sutpen's very defeat | Pages 29-30
- It was at this time that he began to invite | Pages 30-31
- So when, at the expiration of this second phase, | Pages 31-32
- Because from that day there were no more | Page 32
- If he threw her over, I wouldn't think she would | Page 46
- It was still not dark enough for Quentin | Pages 70-71
- where even now the only alteration toward darkness | Page 71
- "Have you noticed how so often when we | Page 96
- Mr Compson moved. Half rising, Quentin took the letter | Pages 101-102
- Quentin hearing without having to listen as he read | Page 102
- But Quentin was not listening, because there was | Page 139
- He (Quentin) couldn't pass that. He was not even | Page 140
- There was snow on Shreve's overcoat sleeve, his | Page 141
- bringing with it that very September evening itself | Page 142
- and that not Shreve's first time, nobody's first | Page 142
- that very September evening when Mr Compson stopped | Page 142
- because he had not been listening since he | Page 142
- And she (Miss Coldfield) had on the shawl, | Pages 142-143
- that evening, the twelve miles behind the fat mare | Page 143
- (then Shreve again, "Wait. Wait. You mean this old gal, | Pages 143-144
- "Yes," Quentin said. He sounds just like Father he thought | Pages 147-148
- "Yes," Quentin said. | Page 150
- and he and his father crossed just as the rain | Pages 152-154
- "But that dont explain the other three," he said. | Page 155
- Charles Bon. Born in New Orleans, Louisiana. Died | Page 155
- He could feel his father watching him. | Page 155
- Charles Etienne Saint-Valery Bon. 1859-1884 | Page 155
- feeling his father watching him, remarking before | Page 155
- "Oh," Quentin said. "Yes. They lead beautiful lives | Page 156
- (who, not bereaved, did not need to mourn | Page 157
- He (Quentin) could see it, as plainly as | Page 168
- "Oh," Quentin said. - Yes he thought Too much, | Page 170
- remembering how he had looked at the fifth | Pages 170-171
- He had to brush the clinging cedar needles | Pages 170-171
- There was no snow on Shreve's arm now, | Pages 176-177
- ("The demon, hey?" Shreve said. Quentin did not | Page 177
- ("Maybe he had a girl," Shreve said. "Or maybe | Page 177
- ("Not in West Virginia," Shreve said. " - What?" Quentin | Page 179
- "He went to the West Indies." Quentin had not moved, | Pages 192-193
- (and now Grandfather said there was the first | Page 199
- "All right," Shreve said. "Go on." "I said he stopped," | Pages 205-206
- "He just said that he was now engaged to be married | Page 206
- Quentin ceased. At once Shreve said, "All right. | Page 208
- It was at this point that Shreve went to | Page 213
- "Your old man," Shreve said. "When your grandfather | Pages 220-221
- "So he got his choice made after all," Shreve said. | Page 222
- (that at least regarding which he should have needed | Pages 222-223
- "No," Shreve said, "you wait. Let me play a while | Pages 224-225
- "Wait," Shreve said; "wait. You mean that he had | Page 230
- "Wait," Shreve said; "for Christ's sake wait. | Page 231
- "Wait," Shreve said. "You mean that he got the son | Page 234
- "Will you wait?" Shreve said. " - that with the son | Page 234
- There would be no deep breathing tonight. The window | Page 235
- Shreve stood beside the table, facing Quentin | Pages 235-236
- be already clattering over the frozen ruts of that December | Page 237
- They stared at one another - glared rather - their | Page 240
- They stared - glared - at one another, their voices | Page 243
- (neither of them said 'Bon'. Never at any time | Page 249
- Where did you say?" "Oxford," Quentin said. | Page 249
- The letter which he - " it was not Bon he meant | Page 251
- "And now," Shreve said, "we're going to talk about love." | Page 253
- "Wait," Shreve cried, though Quentin had not spoken: | Page 257
- Does that suit you?" "But it's not love," Quentin said. | Page 258
- because who (without a sister: I dont know about | Pages 259-260
- "That's still not love," Quentin said. | Page 263
- Shreve ceased. That is, for all the two of them, | Page 267
- believing that that must have occurred to Henry, | Page 267
- So it was four of them who rode the two horses | Page 267
- There would be Christmas on the boat too: | Pages 267-268
- So it was four of them still who got off | Page 268
- Four of them there, in that room in New Orleans | Page 268
- And Bon may have, probably did, take Henry to | Page 268
- In fact, Quentin did not even tell Shreve what | Page 268
- Perhaps Quentin himself had not been listening when | Page 268
- since both he and Shreve believed - and were probably | Pages 268-269
- First, two of them, then four; now two again. | Page 275
- since it was '64 and then '65 and the starved | Page 276
- two, four, now two again, according to Quentin and Shreve | Page 276
- the two the four the two facing one another | Page 276
- He ceased again. It was just as well, since | Page 280
- At first, in bed in the dark, it seemed colder | Pages 288-289
- Now Quentin began to breathe hard again, who had | Page 291
- It was quite cold in the room now; the chimes | Pages 298-299
- Now the chimes began, ringing for one oclock. | Page 299
- Quentin did not answer; he did not even say, | Page 301
- Quentin did not answer, staring at the window; | Page 301
- "So it took Charles Bon and his mother to get rid | Page 302
- Now I want you to tell me just one thing more. | Page 303
|
Rosa (Miss Coldfield) | 78 | Show |
Rosa is the one story-teller present in 1909 who knew the Sutpens firsthand – though the novel points out several times that not even she ever saw Charles Bon (see 117). She initiates the novel as an investigation into the past by telling Quentin her version of the Sutpen story in chapters 1 and 5. Chapter 1 takes place in her house. Chapter 5 begins by launching directly into a lengthy italicized first-person narrative in her voice, though it seems to be taking place mainly in Quentin's mind, as he recalls more of what she told him that afternoon while he's waiting at his house to return to hers for the trip in the dark to Sutpen's Hundred. Her voice in both chapters betrays her prejudices – her personal grievance against Sutpen, and her racial and class animosities, her loyalty to the Lost Cause – and most commentators find her the least reliable of the narrative sources, but it would be better to try to understand how and why she skews the story of the past than to dismiss it. The novel's third-person narrator even points out the equivalence of "Miss Coldfield's demonizing" with "the best of ratiocination" as displayed by Quentin and Shreve (225).
- Out of quiet thunderclap he would abrupt (man-horse-demon) | Page 4
- "Because you are going away to attend the college | Page 5
- "He wasn't a gentleman. He wasn't even a gentleman. | Page 9
- and it was mine and Ellen's father who gave him that. | Pages 9-10
- then later blind woman mother fool when she lay | Page 10
- and only I, a child, a child, mind you, four years | Page 10
- Yes, blind romantic fool, who did not even have | Page 10
- a man who rode into town out of nowhere | Pages 10-11
- "No, not even a gentleman. Marrying Ellen or | Page 11
- Because he was too young. He was just twenty-five | Page 11
- "No. I hold no more brief for Ellen than | Page 12
- since apparently and for what reason Heaven has not | Page 12
- I saw what had happened to Ellen, my sister. | Page 12
- "No. I hold no brief for myself. I don't plead | Pages 12-13
- Is it any wonder that Heaven saw fit | Page 13
- "But that it should have been our father, mine | Pages 13-14
- So that even I, a child still too young | Page 14
- "Because I was born too late. I was born | Page 15
- "Yes. I was born too late. I was a child | Pages 15-16
- it was the minister himself, speaking in the name | Pages 16-17
- And this time it was not even the minister. | Page 17
- Because this Sunday when Ellen and the children | Pages 17-18
- As soon as papa and I entered those gates | Pages 18-19
- "Yes. From themselves. Not from him, not from anybody, | Pages 19-20
- "So it was six years now, though it was | Page 20
- She accepted that - not reconciled: accepted - as though | Pages 20-22
- So they will have told you doubtless already how | Page 107
- who until Ellen died was not even permitted | Page 107
- that brute progenitor of brutes whose granddaughter | Page 107
- that brute who appeared to believe that he had | Pages 107-108
- a shot heard, faint and far away, and even direction | Page 108
- Twelve miles toward that I rode, beside an animal | Pages 108-109
- into the hallway whose carpet had long since gone | Pages 109-112
- As a child I had more than once watched her | Page 112
- We stood there so. And then suddenly it | Pages 112-113
- Henry perhaps, to emerge from some door which | Page 113
- Or not expect perhaps, not even hope; not | Pages 113-114
- until the voice parted us, broke the spell. | Pages 114-115
- Once there was - | Page 115
- Do you mark how the wistaria, sun-impacted on this wall | Page 115
- Once there was (they cannot have told you | Pages 115-116
- while in that unpaced corridor which I called childhood | Page 116
- fourteen, four years younger than Judith, four years | Pages 116-117
- It was the summer after that first Christmas | Page 117
- I had never seen him (I never saw him. | Page 117
- There must have been some seed he left, | Pages 117-118
- I dont know even now if I was ever | Page 118
- Why did I not invent, create it? - And I know | Page 118
- A picture seen by stealth, by creeping into | Pages 118-119
- No, it was not that; I was not spying, | Page 119
- Then my father returned and came for me | Pages 119-120
- And then I went back home and stayed | Page 120
- ran up a nightmare flight of steps, and found | Page 120
- Yes, running out of that first year (that year | Page 120
- the four years while I believed she waited | Pages 120-121
- Yes, found her standing before that closed door | Page 121
- That was all. Or rather, not all, since there | Pages 121-122
- and in the lamplit kitchen helped this time | Pages 122-123
- a strange gaunt half-wild horse, bridled and with | Page 123
- Yes, more than that: he was absent, and | Page 123
- Now you will ask me why I stayed there. | Pages 123-126
- It was winter soon and already soldiers were beginning | Pages 126-127
- And then one afternoon in January Thomas Sutpen | Pages 127-129
- And then one evening I became engaged to marry him. | Pages 127-128
- As Judith and Clytie did, I stood there | Pages 128-129
- That was all. He rode up the drive and into | Pages 129-130
- That was the winter when we began to learn | Page 130
- Oh yes, I watched him, watched his old man's solitary | Pages 130-131
- And then one afternoon (I was in the garden | Pages 131-132
- who sat at the supper table that night with | Page 132
- and then before the fire in Judith's bedroom | Pages 132-133
- But for the next two months he did not even | Pages 133-134
- But no matter. I will tell you what he did and | Pages 134-135
- You see, I was that sun, or thought I was | Page 135
- And then one afternoon - oh there was a fate | Page 136
- They will have told you how I came back home. | Pages 136-138
- But I forgave him. They will tell you different, but | Pages 138-139
- at last in the stroke of a rusty scythe. | Page 139
|
Shreve-Quentin | 71 | Show |
In the novel's second half, chapters 6-9, these two college roommates collaborate on their own reconstruction the Sutpen story. Despite their different backgrounds and temperaments, according to the narrative they are able to "think as one" to "create between them, out of the rag-tag and bob-ends of old tales and talking" a third account of the characters and events in the saga (243). This hyphenated label for their collaboration, which puts Shreve first, is our attempt to distinguish which of the young men is speaking; in this case it's Shreve, though as the narrator puts it even here, "it might have been either of them and was in a sense both" (243). (See Quentin-Shreve too.)
- one in a Mississippi library sixty years ago, with | Pages 236-237
- " - the old Sabine, who couldn't to save her life | Pages 243-244
- home again where, among the Florentine mirrors and | Pages 244-245
- And him - " (Neither of them said 'Bon') | Page 245
- "So he went away. He went away to school | Page 246
- Maybe the mother found out about the octoroon | Pages 246-247
- then to depart, kissing her maybe, her hand | Page 247
- because she went to the lawyer. And it was | Pages 247-248
- So maybe she wasn't out of the office good | Page 248
- "And he didn't care about that too; he just | Page 248
- and maybe he lounged into the lawyer's office and | Pages 248-249
- " - listening courteous and quiet behind that expression which | Page 249
- " - 'Oxford.' And then the papers could be still | Page 249
- maybe not even goodbye to the octoroon, to | Pages 249-250
- and one night he walked up the gangplank | Pages 250-251
- and one day Henry showed it to him | Page 251
- " - wrote maybe as soon as he finished that last | Page 251
- My Dear Mr Sutpen: The undersigned name will | Pages 251-252
- Not goodbye; all right, who had had so many fathers | Pages 252-253
- "And now, love. He must have known all about her | Pages 253-255
- then (Bon) agreeing at last, saying at last, | Page 255
- So the Christmas came and he and Henry rode | Pages 255-256
- And went into the house: and maybe somebody looking | Page 256
- And he spent ten days there, not only the | Page 256
- and which he did remain to her until he disappeared | Page 256
- (And the girl, the sister, the virgin - Jesus, | Page 256
- And the day came to depart and no sign yet; | Pages 256-257
- "Because he hadn't even looked at her. Oh, he had | Pages 257-258
- He just didn't have time yet. Jesus, he must | Pages 258-259
- Because he never had to worry about the love | Pages 260-261
- It was the other. Maybe he thought it would be | Page 261
- and then Henry began to talk about his stopping | Pages 261-262
- So the day came and he and Henry rode | Page 262
- it would be June now, with the magnolias and | Pages 262-263
- Rode the forty miles and into the gates and | Page 263
- thinking of the two of them, the sombre vengeful | Page 263
- Jesus, think of his heart then, during those two | Page 263
- and Judith neither having to accede to the throwing | Pages 263-264
- so that (maybe he even kissed her that time, | Page 264
- so that when the two days were up and he | Page 264
- Think of his heart then, while he rode to | Pages 264-265
- Then he reached home. And he never learned if | Page 265
- the very fact that he saw through the skillful questions | Page 265
- the shortest one of all next to the last one | Page 265
- Because the lawyer would not dare risk asking | Page 265
- and the summer passed and September came and still | Page 265
- So he returned to school, where Henry was waiting | Pages 265-266
- And the fall passed and Christmas came and they | Page 266
- So maybe what he was doing that twilight | Page 266
- (and Judith thinking about that like she thought | Page 266
- maybe what he was doing there now was waiting | Page 266
- And he stood there facing the house until Henry | Pages 266-267
- "So the old dame asked Henry that one question | Page 269
- And so now it would be short, this time with | Page 269
- all of a week maybe (after he - the lawyer - would | Page 269
- before he would contrive Bon too, and maybe | Pages 269-271
- Yes, they knew now. And Jesus, think of him, Bon, | Page 271
- And think of Henry, who had said at first | Pages 271-272
- And maybe it was two days or three days, and Henry | Page 272
- And maybe it was a week, maybe Bon took | Page 272
- during that winter and then that spring | Page 272
- and Henry and Bon already decided to go | Pages 272-273
- Then it was Christmas again, then 1861, | Page 273
- and they hadn't heard from Judith because Judith | Page 273
- So they took the steamboat North again, | Page 273
- And maybe this was one place where your old man | Page 273
- and they rode into Oxford without touching Sutpen's | Page 273
- and started for the front. "Jesus, think of them. | Pages 273-275
- Then it was the next year and Bon was an officer | Pages 274-275
- Then it was Shiloh, the second day and the lost battle | Page 275
- it was not Bon, it was Henry; Bon that found Henry | Page 275
|
Shreve (McCannon) | 50 | Show |
Shreve is Quentin's Harvard roommate, and a constant presence in the novel's second half (chapters 6-9). As the third-person narrator notes, Quentin and Shreve were "born half a continent apart" (208): Shreve is a Canadian who tells Quentin that the burden of the past is "something my people haven't got" (289). Perhaps his perspective on the Sutpen story is more objective – though Quentin tells him "you would have to be born there" to "understand" the South (289). Most of the time he and Quentin collaborate on their reconstruction of the Sutpen story (see "Shreve-Quentin" and "Quentin-Shreve" as sources), but at the start of the "Harvard" section of the novel (144-52), it is Shreve alone who provides a lengthy summation of what has been described in chapters 1-5, a summation that for example resolves the novel's very first mystery (why does Rosa wear black? see 146-47), and actually introduces entirely new elements of the story (Wash killing Sutpen, 150-51). There is no indication of how and when Shreve learned any of this; we have to assume Quentin told him sometime between chapters 5 and 6.
- "That this old dame that grew up in a household | Page 144
- then her father nailed himself up in the attic | Page 144
- and right about the brother-in-law because if | Page 144
- would not have had to be blown back to town | Page 144
- because he found a successor by just turning | Pages 144-145
- he would be dead too since she doubtless foresaw | Page 145
- "That this Faustus, this demon, this Beelzebub | Page 145
- this Faustus who appeared suddenly one Sunday | Page 145
- and chose (bought her, outswapped his father-in-law, | Page 145
- could would and did breed him two children | Pages 145-146
- and so sure enough the daughter fell in love | Page 146
- and then the demon must turn square around | Page 146
- he (the son) should do the office of the outraged | Page 146
- and then almost before his foot was | Page 146
- then three months later, with no date ever set | Pages 146-147
- and was free now, forever more now of threat | Page 147
- and so running his little crossroads store with | Page 147
- But you were not listening, because you knew | Page 172
- who had been here before, seen those graves | Page 172
- although it had stood there empty and unthreatening | Pages 172-173
- the rotting shell with its sagging portico and scaling | Page 173
- and you and Luster had both been there that day | Pages 173-174
- "Yes," Quentin said. "And that was the one Luster | Page 174
- "And that he lived in that cabin behind the haunted house | Pages 174-175
- And yet this old gal, this Aunt Rosa, | Page 175
- and so you went out there, drove the twelve miles | Page 175
- "All right," he said. "So that Christmas Henry | Page 213
- "So the old man sent the nigger for Henry," | Page 235
- "And Bon didn't know it," Shreve said. "The old man | Page 237
- But Bon didn't. Listen, dont you remember how | Pages 237-238
- Jesus, you can almost see him: a little boy | Pages 238-240
- "Then he got older and got out from under | Page 240
- and so all to check him up about the money | Pages 240-241
- Sure, that's who it would be: the lawyer, | Page 241
- Today he finished robbing a drunken Indian | Page 241
- trailing off not because thinking trailed off, but | Pages 241-242
- (he would have known about the octoroon and | Pages 242-243
- (It would be June now and what would it be | Page 262
- ("Listen," Shreve said, cried. "It would be while | Page 271
- and so without doubt the lawyer had murdered her | Page 271
- And listen," Shreve cried; "wait, now; wait!" | Page 275
- "And so you and the old dame, the Aunt Rosa, | Pages 279-280
- "And he never slipped away," Shreve said. "He could have, | Page 286
- and Judith and Clytie heard the shot, and maybe Wash | Page 286
- And your old man wouldn't know about that too: | Pages 286-287
- That after almost fifty years she couldn't reconcile | Pages 289-290
- "But at last she did reconcile herself to it, | Page 299
- "And so it was the Aunt Rosa that came back | Page 301
- "And she went to bed because it was all finished | Page 301
- there was nothing left now, nothing out there now | Page 301
|
Grandfather-Quentin | 43 | Show |
The account in chapter 7 of Sutpen's life and the "design" that he brought to with him to Yoknapatawpha is told to Shreve by Quentin, whose account derives both from what Sutpen told Grandfather and, more obliquely, what Grandfather said Sutpen told him. In the first case – i.e. information that seems to come more directly from Sutpen – we identify Sutpen as the "main source," though with the proviso that readers aren't hearing directly from Sutpen. In the second, we use the composite Grandfather-Quentin to reflect the more mediated nature of the accounts. And perhaps a more accurate label for the source would be "Sutpen-Grandfather-[Father?]-Quentin": Quentin was born near the end of his grandfather's life, and nowhere does the novel say when Quentin could have heard all this from him. It seems more plausible to assume that Grandfather told it to Father who told it to Quentin who is telling it to Shreve. But Quentin does not mention Father's possible role as an intermediary. However Sutpen's story was passed on through the Compsons, there's no way to know how it may have been changed in the process.
- "He told Grandfather about it," he said. "That time | Page 177
- " - sent word in to Grandfather and some others | Page 177
- " - and so he went. He seemed to vanish in broad | Pages 177-178
- And Grandfather (he was young then too) brought | Page 178
- Then it was daylight and the dogs had a | Page 178
- And so he told Grandfather something about it. | Pages 178-179
- "That was how he said it. He and Grandfather | Page 193
- saying it just like that day thirty years later | Pages 193-194
- telling Grandfather in that same tone while they sat | Page 194
- "Then the other guests began to ride up, and | Pages 196-197
- he said, 'There it is' and got up and they all | Pages 197-198
- And he said how Sutpen was talking about it | Page 198
- just as the fine broadcloth uniform which you could have | Page 198
- " - whom he was to tell Grandfather thirty years | Page 199
- Or maybe it was the fact that they were sitting again | Pages 199-200
- So it was no tale about women, and certainly | Page 200
- and Grandfather said how he remembered then | Pages 200-201
- the girl just emerging for a second of the telling, | Page 201
- No more detail and information about that than about | Page 201
- Because he was not afraid until after it was all over, | Pages 201-202
- And he overseeing it, riding peacefully about on | Pages 202-203
- and he sitting on the log, Grandfather said, | Page 203
- whom Grandfather himself had seen fight naked chest to chest | Pages 203-204
- and Grandfather saying 'Wait wait' sure enough | Page 204
- (he showed Grandfather the scars, one of which | Page 205
- "But they didn't. It was late afternoon before they | Page 206
- They never did find it so Grandfather gave him | Pages 206-207
- a little harried wild-faced man with a two-days' stubble | Page 207
- "It was thirty years before he told Grandfather | Page 208
- "Sure," Shreve said. "That's fine. But Sutpen. The design. | Pages 209-210
- "Yes, the two children, the son and the daughter | Pages 210-211
- like he chose his twenty niggers out of whatever | Page 211
- And Grandfather said there was no conscience | Pages 211-212
- And yet, after more than thirty years, more than | Page 213
- "Yes," Quentin said. "Father said he probably named him | Pages 213-214
- just as he named them all - the Charles Goods, | Page 214
- and which he came to Grandfather, not to | Page 215
- Because he did not give up. He never did | Page 215
- and came in to see Grandfather, trying to explain | Pages 218-220
- "He left for Virginia that night. Grandfather said | Page 221
- He could still reach Sutpen's Hundred before dark, | Page 221
- Then it was '65 and the army (Grandfather | Pages 221-222
- Sitting in Grandfather's office that afternoon, with | Page 234
|
Quentin (Compson) | 35 | Show |
Faulkner himself said that Thomas Sutpen is the novel's "central character," but Quentin is the figure who holds the narrative together. He is explicitly or implicitly present on every page. In the novel's first half, he listens to Rosa's and Father's versions of Sutpen story, which snag his attention just as he's about to leave home to go to college in the North; at Harvard in the second half, he works with Shreve to reconstruct that same story, to understand what happened and what it means – see Shreve-Quentin and Quentin-Shreve as sources. He also serves as a conduit for much of what Father says, and almost all of what General Compson says (see Grandfather-Quentin). As a separate source of information or speculation, Quentin contributes relatively little to the story – though his memory of going in the dark with Rosa to and into the decaying Sutpen place (290-98) is one of the novel's dramatic climaxes. But as a child of the Deep South who has "been told too much" about and had to listen "too long" to its history (168, 170), his presence gives novel its ultimate emotional significance.
- Then in the long unamaze Quentin seemed to watch | Page 4
- (It seemed to Quentin that he could actually see | Pages 105-106
- that door, the running feet on the stairs beyond it | Pages 139-140
- "How was it?" Shreve said. "You told me; | Page 152
- It seemed to Quentin that he could actually see them: | Pages 154-155
- thinking about, imagining what careful printed directions | Page 170
- and how Clytie must have lived during the next | Page 170
- thinking Yes, to too much, too long. I didn't | Page 171
- (when the ship from the Old Bailey reached Jamestown | Page 180
- and I reckon Grandfather was saying 'Wait wait | Page 199
- "Dont say it's just me that sounds like your | Page 210
- "Your father," Shreve said. "He seems to have | Page 214
- He didn't do anything at all until spring | Page 216
- Then it was '61 and Sutpen knew what they | Page 217
- That was the day he came to the office, | Pages 217-218
- " - no reserve to risk a spotting shot with now | Page 225
- and Father said how that afternoon Grandfather rode | Pages 227-228
- "So that Sunday came, a year after that day | Page 228
- So it was not until he failed to return at | Page 229
- and the boy walked whistling around the corner | Page 229
- Then about a week later they caught | Page 229
- He could taste the dust. Even now, with the chill | Page 290
- and (as during the long hot afternoon in the | Pages 290-291
- and all remaining to look at him with unchanged regard | Page 291
- She (Miss Coldfield) did not let him enter the gate. | Pages 291-293
- But they reached it at last. It loomed, bulked, | Pages 293-294
- 'so now I shall have to go in,' he thought, | Pages 294-295
- She (Clytie) lay on the bare floor of the scaling | Pages 295-296
- So when he came back down the stairs (and he remembered | Page 296
- Nor did he overtake Miss Coldfield and the negro. | Pages 296-297
- When he stopped the buggy at her gate she | Page 297
- His own home was dark; he was still using the whip | Pages 297-298
- waking or sleeping he walked down that upper hall | Page 298
- the ambulance with Miss Coldfield between the driver | Pages 299-301
- And the deputy and the driver would spring out | Pages 300-301
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Sutpen (Thomas Sutpen) | 31 | Show |
In chapter 7 Quentin tells Shreve what his Grandfather told him that on two occasions 30 years apart Sutpen told him about his life and the thoughts and longings that shaped it. The "Sutpen" we see in this chapter is a very different person than Rosa's "demon" or Father's parvenu, reminding the reader again that "the past" and "the truth" depend on who is constructing them. Even in this chapter we can distinguish two different sources for what is learned about Sutpen's past. Quentin's retelling of this story often relates Grandfather's commentary on it; in these cases we identify the main source as Grandfather-Quentin. When Quentin's retelling of it quotes Sutpen's own words, however, or in the one case where the third-person narrator refers to what "Sutpen told Quentin's grandfather" (27), we identify Sutpen as the main source, though we acknowledge that Sutpen is not speaking to us. At best, we only "know" Sutpen's life at third-hand.
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Father-Grandfather | 29 | Show |
The last section of chapter 6 brings the Sutpen saga forward into the years following the Civil War. In the complex way of the novel, Quentin is at Harvard with Shreve in 1910, but the voice inside the quotation marks recounting the story is Father's, who is speaking to his son in the Sutpen graveyard at least some months earlier. In turn what Father tells Quentin in this passage is based entirely on what "your grandfather saw" firsthand, and presumably told his son at some point (157). Hence this Father-Grandfather entity, because while the knowledge of the events is imputed to Grandfather, the actual descriptions are Father's.
- Judith came into town one day and brought him | Pages 155-156
- "Yes. But there was one afternoon in the summer | Pages 156-157
- who stood just inside the cedars, in the calico | Pages 157-158
- "She stayed a week. She passed the rest | Pages 158-159
- And your grandfather never knew if it was | Page 159
- Clytie who had never been further from Sutpen's Hundred | Page 159
- (your grandfather said you did not wonder what | Page 159
- Yes, sleeping in the trundle bed beside Judith's, | Pages 160-161
- (and your grandfather said, 'Suffer little children | Page 161
- look upon the human creature who feeds it, who | Page 161
- "And your grandfather did not know either | Pages 161-163
- Your grandfather didn't know, even though he | Page 163
- your grandfather to whose office Judith came | Page 163
- the crowded room which they entered and your | Pages 163-164
- a negro ball held in a cabin a few miles | Page 164
- and only your grandfather to fumble, grope, grasp | Pages 164-165
- "Your grandfather got him out, quashed the indictment | Page 165
- "So he departed, and your grandfather rode out | Pages 165-166
- And now, next time, he was not sent for; | Page 166
- even a year later and after their son was born, | Page 166
- still existed in that aghast and automaton-like state | Pages 166-167
- (and this last none knew even now if | Page 167
- how there followed something like a year | Page 167
- or in city honky-tonks who thought | Page 167
- the white men who, when he said | Page 167
- "So he showed Judith the license and took | Pages 167-168
- who was not seen in Jefferson but three times | Pages 169-170
- So they did not even miss him from town | Page 170
- Within the week your grandfather learned that | Page 170
|
Quentin-Shreve | 28 | Show |
In the novel's second half, chapters 6-9, these two college roommates collaborate to reconstruct the story of the Sutpen family. Despite their different backgrounds and temperaments, according to the narrative they are able to "think as one" to "create between them, out of the rag-tag and bob-ends of old tales and talking" a third account of the characters and events in the saga (243). This hyphenated label for their collaboration, which puts Quentin first, is our attempt to acknowledge the distinction the novel makes when it has Quentin doing the actual speaking. (See Shreve-Quentin too.)
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Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve | 12 | Show |
We use this entity to identify the source of the very powerful scene at the end of chapter 8 when, apparently, the temporal and spatial distances dissolve, and Quentin and Shreve in Massachusetts in 1910 become one with the past: "They were both in Carolina and the time was forty-six years ago, since now both of them were Henry Sutpen and both of them were Bon" (280). The scene that is introduced this way may have special status, as a direct revelation of "the past" – or it may not. At the start of chapter 8, the narrator asserts that Quentin and Shreve were "not two of them in a New England college sitting-room but one in a Mississippi library sixty years ago," apparently in communion with Henry who looking out the window behind his father at Judith and Bon in the garden at Sutpen's Hundred on Christmas Eve 1860 (236) – which seems like another such revelation, until the narrator notes that Quentin and Shreve also see flowers in the garden that could not possibly be there in the winter. In other words, the scene "in Carolina" may be a hallucination instead of a revelation. More than once the novel says something like: "it seemed to Quentin that he could actually see" them, or it – but that doesn't mean that they or it were ever there (105). Which narrative sources to believe – if any – is still up to readers to decide.
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Town | 4 | Show |
A number of Faulkner's fictions make use of a communal sensibility as a narrative source. Faulkner even puts a dozen pages in Light in August, describing Joe Christmas' arrival in Mottstown from the perspective of the town's white population, inside quotation marks, as if the Mottstown itself is speaking in a collective voice. In Absalom, the narrative often refers to how the people of Jefferson react to Sutpen and his family; in four other events, the "town" becomes the main narrative source of information about them – for example, that Sutpen came into Jefferson "from the south" (24).
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Grandfather (General Compson) | 2 | Show |
The man Quentin calls Grandfather and the narrator calls General Compson is already on the ground in Yoknapatawpha when Sutpen arrives in 1833. Before the Civil War he becomes Sutpen's "only friend" (220), and it is to him in chapter 7 that Sutpen confides the story of his own life. The General's son (Father) and grandson (Quentin) rely heavily on his firsthand knowledge of the Sutpen saga, but there's no way to judge how accurately the dozens of cases where he is cited as a secondhand source repeat his accounts (see Grandfather-Quentin and Father-Grandfather as sources). We only attribute two events to him as the main source; both are reported by the novel's third-person narrator.
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Midwife | 2 | Show |
The midwife's account in chapter 7 of Sutpen's demeaning rejection of Milly Jones and her newborn child and Wash's killing of Sutpen to avenge the insult is one of the novel's two major events for which the main source is black. The midwife bears witness reluctantly. She herself flees from the scene during the murder, but the white men investigating Sutpen's death "catch" her and presumably force her to tell what happened (150). In Faulkner's first account of these events in the short story "Wash," the midwife has a name, Dicie, but no story-teller role: there these events are told by the third-person narrator.
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Bon (Charles Bon) | 1 | Show |
As a character, Charles Bon remains perhaps the most enigmatic figure in the novel. He is not a story-teller, but he does become a source of the narrative in chapter 4, when the text shows Quentin reading the letter that Bon reportedly wrote Judith, and that she gave Quentin's Grandmother who presumably gave it to Father who gives it to Quentin. This letter is the novel's one and only historical document, but how reliable even it is as a guide to what actually happened remains unclear. It's unsigned, so we have to assume Bon wrote it, and even if we had proof of that, Bon himself comes to Yoknapatawpha in a kind of disguise – he certainly never tells Judith he's her biracial half-brother, if he is – so it can't be assumed that the letter gives us an "authentic" version of the past.
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Sutpen Slaves | 1 | Show |
"So the tale came through the negroes" (62) – Mr. Compson admits that the only source for what happens at Sutpen's Hundred on Christmas Eve, 1860, the crucial moment when Henry repudiates his father and heritage and rides off with Bon, is this vaguely referenced group of unnamed enslaved blacks. The story's white story-tellers treat this source as a reliable one: although they offer differing explanations for Henry's action, they all agree that the rupture between father and son on Christmas Eve occurred. Later the novel refers to a similar kind of source: the "country grapevine whose source is among negroes" (166). Among the "negroes" at Sutpen's in 1860, of course, is Clytemnestra, but though Compson here refers by name to Sutpen's wife and all his other children (Ellen, Henry, Bon, Judith), it seems that this group does not include her. Despite her insider status, according to our analysis Clytie is never a narrative source for the novel.
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Major de Spain | 1 | Show |
A frequent character in Faulkner's fiction, de Spain is contemporary of Sutpen's, and as Wash notes, a man "of Sutpen's own kind," that is a plantation aristocrat (232). In this novel he is also the county Sheriff. He becomes one of the novel's story-tellers in chapter 7, where his sole narrative role is to witness and describe the last act of Wash Jones' life. This section of the novel derives from Faulkner's short story "Wash," which was written in the third-person; in the novel de Spain's account solves the problem of providing access to the event. And as eyewitness testimony his account seems reliable, though readers receive it indirectly, from what Quentin says "Father said" "de Spain said" (233-34).
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All (in page order) | 704 | Show |
- Narrator ~ From a little after two oclock until almost sundown | Pages 3-4
- Rosa ~ Out of quiet thunderclap he would abrupt (man-horse-demon) | Page 4
- Quentin ~ Then in the long unamaze Quentin seemed to watch | Page 4
- Narrator ~ Then hearing would reconcile and he would | Pages 4-5
- Rosa ~ "Because you are going away to attend the college | Page 5
- Narrator ~ "Yessum," Quentin said. Only she dont mean that he thought. | Page 5
- Narrator ~ he had received by the hand of a small negro | Pages 5-6
- Narrator ~ He obeyed it immediately after the noon meal, | Page 6
- Narrator ~ It's because she wants it told he thought | Page 6
- Narrator ~ - a woman who even in his (Quentin's) father's youth | Page 6
- Narrator ~ and the nephew who served for four years | Pages 6-7
- Narrator ~ It would be three hours yet before he would learn | Page 7
- Narrator ~ Quentin had grown up with that; the mere names | Page 7
- Narrator ~ ("But why tell me about it?" he said to | Pages 7-8
- Narrator ~ Whatever her reason for choosing him, whether it was | Pages 8-9
- Rosa ~ "He wasn't a gentleman. He wasn't even a gentleman. | Page 9
- Rosa ~ and it was mine and Ellen's father who gave him that. | Pages 9-10
- Rosa ~ then later blind woman mother fool when she lay | Page 10
- Rosa ~ and only I, a child, a child, mind you, four years | Page 10
- Rosa ~ Yes, blind romantic fool, who did not even have | Page 10
- Rosa ~ a man who rode into town out of nowhere | Pages 10-11
- Rosa ~ "No, not even a gentleman. Marrying Ellen or | Page 11
- Rosa ~ Because he was too young. He was just twenty-five | Page 11
- Rosa ~ "No. I hold no more brief for Ellen than | Page 12
- Rosa ~ since apparently and for what reason Heaven has not | Page 12
- Rosa ~ I saw what had happened to Ellen, my sister. | Page 12
- Rosa ~ "No. I hold no brief for myself. I don't plead | Pages 12-13
- Rosa ~ Is it any wonder that Heaven saw fit | Page 13
- Rosa ~ "But that it should have been our father, mine | Pages 13-14
- Rosa ~ So that even I, a child still too young | Page 14
- Narrator ~ "Yessum," Quentin said. "Yes," the grim quiet voice | Pages 14-15
- Rosa ~ "Because I was born too late. I was born | Page 15
- Narrator ~ It should have been later than it was; | Page 15
- Rosa ~ "Yes. I was born too late. I was a child | Pages 15-16
- Rosa ~ it was the minister himself, speaking in the name | Pages 16-17
- Rosa ~ And this time it was not even the minister. | Page 17
- Rosa ~ Because this Sunday when Ellen and the children | Pages 17-18
- Rosa ~ As soon as papa and I entered those gates | Pages 18-19
- Rosa ~ "Yes. From themselves. Not from him, not from anybody, | Pages 19-20
- Rosa ~ "So it was six years now, though it was | Page 20
- Rosa ~ She accepted that - not reconciled: accepted - as though | Pages 20-22
- Narrator ~ It was a summer of wistaria. The twilight was | Page 23
- Narrator ~ the odor, the scent, which five months later | Page 23
- Narrator ~ the listening, the hearing in 1909 even yet | Page 23
- Narrator ~ - a Sunday morning in June with the bells | Pages 23-24
- Narrator ~ That was all that the town was to know | Page 24
- Town ~ He had apparently come into town from the south | Page 24
- Town ~ though it was years before the town learned | Page 24
- Narrator ~ - the strong spent horse and the clothes | Page 24
- Narrator ~ of which Miss Coldfield told Quentin | Page 24
- Narrator ~ with the butts worn smooth as pickhandles and | Pages 24-27
- Narrator ~ He had a room in the Holston House | Page 25
- Narrator ~ it was years later before even Quentin's grandfather | Page 25
- Narrator ~ it would be years yet before he would become | Page 25
- Grandfather ~ it was General Compson who first realized that | Page 25
- Narrator ~ So they would catch him, run him to earth, | Page 25
- Narrator ~ It was the Chickasaw Indian agent with or | Pages 25-26
- Narrator ~ But he owned land among them now and | Page 26
- Narrator ~ what Sutpen's future and then unborn sister-in-law | Page 26
- Narrator ~ that he had found some unique and practical way | Page 26
- Town ~ Years later the town learned that he had come | Page 26
- Narrator ~ And until he passed through town on his way back | Page 26
- Narrator ~ and he did not have much chance to look at Jefferson | Pages 26-27
- Sutpen ~ later Sutpen told Quentin's grandfather that on that | Page 27
- Narrator ~ So the legend of the wild men came gradually | Pages 27-28
- Narrator ~ So he and the twenty negroes worked together, | Page 28
- Narrator ~ But he was a good architect; Quentin knew | Pages 28-29
- Grandfather ~ And not only an architect, as General Compson said, | Page 29
- Narrator ~ (even General Compson did not know yet) | Page 29
- Narrator ~ and so created out of Sutpen's very defeat | Pages 29-30
- Narrator ~ It was at this time that he began to invite | Pages 30-31
- Narrator ~ So when, at the expiration of this second phase, | Pages 31-32
- Narrator ~ Because from that day there were no more | Page 32
- Father ~ "Then one day he quitted Jefferson for the second | Page 33
- Father ~ "The town should have been accustomed to that | Pages 33-34
- Father ~ "So at last civic virtue came to a boil. | Page 34
- Father ~ All I ever heard is how the town, the men | Pages 34-35
- Father ~ "So they sat on their horses and waited for him. | Pages 35-36
- Father ~ "They waited for him again. The crowd was | Page 36
- Father ~ They took him back to town, with the ladies | Page 36
- Father ~ and late that afternoon he returned home | Pages 36-37
- Father ~ Two months later, he and Miss Ellen were married. | Page 37
- Father ~ "It was the wedding which caused the tears: not | Page 37
- Father ~ (I dont speak of Ellen, of course; in fact, you will notice | Page 37
- Father ~ of the two men it was Sutpen who desired | Pages 37-39
- Father ~ "When they were married, there were just ten people | Page 39
- Father ~ That was the other half of the reason for Ellen's tears. | Pages 39-40
- Father ~ like he must have been from the day when | Page 40
- Father ~ Just the same age that Henry was that night | Page 40
- Father ~ set out into a world which even in theory, | Pages 40-41
- Father ~ that unsleeping care which must have known that | Page 41
- Father ~ when they reached the church for the rehearsal | Pages 41-42
- Father ~ though by the next day it had become just quiet | Page 42
- Father ~ She spent all the next day going from house | Page 42
- Father ~ even twenty years after that day, when he would | Page 42
- Father ~ "She covered the town that morning. It did | Page 42
- Father ~ by nightfall the circumstances of the situation had spread | Pages 42-43
- Father ~ which they were holding at the door when the carriage | Pages 43-44
- Father ~ faces which even Ellen was not to remember, | Pages 44-45
- Narrator ~ If he threw her over, I wouldn't think she would | Page 46
- Father ~ After Mr Coldfield died in '64, Miss Rosa moved out | Page 46
- Father ~ She (Miss Rosa) was born in 1845, with her sister | Pages 46-47
- Father ~ - that man who was later to nail himself in | Page 47
- Father ~ - and the aunt who even ten years later was still | Page 47
- Father ~ Perhaps she saw in her father's death, in the | Pages 47-48
- Father ~ (Yes, Clytie was his daughter too: Clytemnestra. He named | Page 48
- Father ~ the one before Clytie and Henry and Judith even, | Page 48
- Father ~ Only I have always liked to believe that he intended | Page 48
- Father ~ When he returned home in '66, she had not | Pages 48-49
- Father ~ And on the four or five occasions during the year | Pages 49-50
- Father ~ That was the face which, when she saw it at all, | Page 50
- Father ~ until the night the aunt climbed out the window | Page 50
- Father ~ there was not only no one to make her try | Pages 50-51
- Father ~ (and who would have been, if her life had not | Page 51
- Father ~ and against Judith already taller than Ellen, and Henry | Pages 51-52
- Father ~ Then one year they did not go. Doubtless Mr Coldfield | Pages 52-53
- Father ~ Now the period began which ended in the catastrophe | Page 53
- Father ~ Although she was not to see Sutpen again for years, | Pages 53-54
- Father ~ Often twice and sometimes three times a week | Pages 54-55
- Father ~ and one time, in the summer when Judith was seventeen, | Page 55
- Father ~ They would enter that dim grim tight little house | Pages 55-56
- Father ~ When they came to town next and the carriage | Page 56
- Father ~ That summer she saw Henry again too. She | Page 56
- Father ~ although he had been home Christmas with his friend | Page 56
- Father ~ So she did not see him until the following summer, | Page 56
- Father ~ Because Sutpen was acting his role too. He had | Pages 56-57
- Father ~ "There goes - " your grandmother said. But Miss Rosa | Page 57
- Father ~ Then she stopped seeing Ellen even. That is, | Pages 57-58
- Father ~ then to come to the house and fill it too | Page 58
- Father ~ Charles Bon of New Orleans, Henry's friend who was | Page 58
- Father ~ Miss Rosa never saw him; this was a picture, an image. | Pages 58-59
- Father ~ This, while Miss Rosa, not listening, who had got | Pages 59-60
- Father ~ It sounded like a fairy tale when Ellen | Page 60
- Father ~ But to Miss Rosa it must have been authentic, | Page 60
- Father ~ Naturally there is no known rejoinder to this. | Page 60
- Father ~ She could not have got it anywhere else. | Page 60
- Father ~ So she would have to get the material | Pages 60-61
- Father ~ So she didn't even see Ellen anymore. Apparently | Page 61
- Father ~ Henry had just vanished. She heard of that too | Pages 61-62
- Father ~ Henry just vanished: she heard just what the town | Page 62
- Father ~ And Ellen was not visible (she seemed to have retired | Page 62
- Sutpen Slaves ~ of how on the night before Christmas there | Page 62
- Father ~ though, the town believed, not at the upset of the marriage | Pages 62-63
- Father ~ She was still doing that when Mississippi seceded and | Page 63
- Father ~ The fat, the stomach, came later. It came upon him | Pages 63-64
- Father ~ She did not see the regiment depart because | Page 64
- Father ~ (but not the marriage of the aunt; it was Miss Rosa | Page 64
- Father ~ had been duly entered in his neat clerk's hand, | Page 64
- Father ~ Then one morning he learned that his store | Pages 64-65
- Father ~ Now Miss Rosa's life consisted of keeping it in herself | Page 65
- Father ~ which when your grandfather saw it in 1885 | Page 65
- Father ~ Then he died. One morning the hand did not | Pages 65-66
- Father ~ Even the two negresses which he had freed | Page 66
- Father ~ So when he died, he had nothing, not only saved | Page 66
- Father ~ So Miss Rosa was both pauper and orphan, with | Page 66
- Father ~ Ellen was dead two years now - the butterfly, | Pages 66-67
- Father ~ (Henry up to now was just vanished, his birthright | Page 67
- Father ~ to protect the remaining child. So the natural thing | Pages 67-68
- Father ~ Because that's what a Southern lady is. | Page 68
- Father ~ That's what she would have been expected to do. | Pages 68-69
- Father ~ The first intimation she had had in four years | Page 69
- Narrator ~ It was still not dark enough for Quentin | Pages 70-71
- Narrator ~ where even now the only alteration toward darkness | Page 71
- Father ~ "Because Henry loved Bon. He repudiated blood birthright | Page 71
- Father ~ and on whose dead body four years later | Page 71
- Father ~ So much so that he (Henry) could give his father | Pages 71-72
- Father ~ and must have repeated while he and Bon | Page 72
- Father ~ I can imagine him and Sutpen in the library | Page 72
- Father ~ That was why the four years, the probation. | Page 72
- Father ~ not to speak of what he learned, saw with his own | Page 72
- Father ~ this man, this youth scarcely twenty, who had | Pages 72-73
- Father ~ "It was Henry's probation; Henry holding all three | Page 73
- Father ~ until that afternoon four years later when | Page 73
- Father ~ she just waked the next morning and they | Page 73
- Father ~ And Bon: Henry would have no more told | Page 73
- Father ~ Bon must have learned of Sutpen's visit to | Pages 73-74
- Father ~ He is the curious one to me. He came | Pages 74-75
- Father ~ Because you will see the letter, not the first | Page 75
- Father ~ but because she brought it herself and gave | Page 75
- Father ~ Because he was her first and last sweetheart. She must | Pages 75-76
- Father ~ this man whom Henry first saw riding perhaps | Pages 76-77
- Father ~ Perhaps that is what went on, not in Henry's mind | Page 77
- Father ~ "Yes, Henry: not Bon, as witness the entire queerly placid | Page 77
- Father ~ Henry who up to that time had never even been | Pages 77-78
- Father ~ this man who later showed the same indolence, | Pages 78-79
- Father ~ And yet, four years later, Henry had to kill | Page 79
- Father ~ So it must have been Henry who seduced Judith, | Page 79
- Father ~ that telepathy with which as children they seemed | Page 79
- Father ~ "You see? there they are: this girl, this young countrybred | Pages 79-80
- Father ~ "They came from the University to spend | Page 80
- Father ~ yet to remember so that four years later | Pages 80-81
- Father ~ Ellen, the esoteric, the almost baroque, the almost | Page 81
- Father ~ Sutpen, the man whom, after seeing once and | Page 81
- Father ~ They stayed two weeks and rode back to school | Page 81
- Father ~ they passed the long term before the summer vacation | Page 81
- Father ~ and Ellen and Judith now shopping two and three | Pages 81-82
- Father ~ and Sutpen, who had seen Bon once and was in | Page 82
- Father ~ "Then June came and the end of the school year | Page 82
- Father ~ Yet there was the body which Miss Rosa saw, | Pages 82-83
- Father ~ And this: the fact that even an undefined and never-spoken | Page 83
- Father ~ Then Bon rode on to the River and took the | Page 83
- Father ~ But Henry did not go this time. He rode | Page 83
- Father ~ But Bon did return. He and Henry met again | Pages 83-84
- Father ~ and it came to him: Christmas, and Henry and Bon | Page 84
- Father ~ "They went to New Orleans. They rode through the | Pages 84-85
- Father ~ Bon who for a year and a half now | Page 85
- Father ~ Yet here is the letter, sent four years afterward, | Page 85
- Father ~ So whether Henry now knew about the other woman | Pages 85-86
- Father ~ "And I can imagine how Bon told Henry, | Pages 86-87
- Father ~ So I can imagine him, the way he did it, | Pages 87-88
- Father ~ a trap, a riding horse standing before a scarce-seen | Pages 88-89
- Father ~ a wall, unscalable, a gate ponderously locked, | Pages 89-90
- Father ~ being carried by the friend, the mentor, through one | Pages 90-91
- Father ~ and returned to Bon's rooms, for that while impotent | Pages 91-94
- Father ~ "So that was all. It should have been all; | Page 94
- Father ~ That spring they returned north, into Mississippi. | Pages 94-95
- Father ~ "And Judith: how else to explain her but | Page 95
- Father ~ who while Henry screamed and vomited, looked | Page 95
- Father ~ Because she could not have known the reason | Pages 95-96
- Narrator ~ "Have you noticed how so often when we | Page 96
- Father ~ Judith, giving implicit trust where she had given | Page 96
- Father ~ the same two calm impenetrable faces seen together | Pages 96-97
- Father ~ because Bon and Henry enrolled and then hid themselves | Pages 97-98
- Father ~ they did not join the company until after it | Page 98
- Father ~ He received a lieutenancy before the company | Page 98
- Father ~ the private who carried that officer, shot through | Pages 98-99
- Father ~ "And Judith. She lived alone now. Perhaps she | Page 99
- Father ~ and the negroes - the wild stock with which he had | Page 99
- Father ~ she lived in anything but solitude, what with Ellen | Page 99
- Father ~ and Wash Jones, living in the abandoned and rotting | Page 99
- Father ~ who until Sutpen went away had never approached | Page 99
- Father ~ not solitude and certainly not idleness: the same | Pages 99-100
- Father ~ to join the other women where - there were wounded | Pages 99-100
- Father ~ Then Ellen died, the butterfly of a forgotten summer | Page 100
- Father ~ (Colonel Sutpen now, since Sartoris had been deposed | Page 100
- Father ~ brought in the regimental forage wagon from Charleston | Page 100
- Father ~ And then her grandfather died, starved to death nailed | Page 100
- Father ~ waiting too apparently upon this letter, this first | Page 100
- Father ~ and which, a week after she buried him too | Pages 100-101
- Narrator ~ Mr Compson moved. Half rising, Quentin took the letter | Pages 101-102
- Father ~ "Now you can see why I said that he loved | Page 102
- Father ~ But keeping this one which must have reached | Page 102
- Narrator ~ Quentin hearing without having to listen as he read | Page 102
- Bon ~ You will notice how I insult neither of us | Pages 102-105
- Father ~ "And that's all," Mr Compson said. "She received it | Page 105
- Father ~ and maybe he told Henry, showed Henry the letter | Page 105
- Father ~ the ultimatum discharged before the gate to | Page 105
- Quentin ~ (It seemed to Quentin that he could actually see | Pages 105-106
- Father ~ " - and then Wash Jones sitting that saddleless mule | Page 106
- Rosa ~ So they will have told you doubtless already how | Page 107
- Rosa ~ who until Ellen died was not even permitted | Page 107
- Rosa ~ that brute progenitor of brutes whose granddaughter | Page 107
- Rosa ~ that brute who appeared to believe that he had | Pages 107-108
- Rosa ~ a shot heard, faint and far away, and even direction | Page 108
- Rosa ~ Twelve miles toward that I rode, beside an animal | Pages 108-109
- Rosa ~ into the hallway whose carpet had long since gone | Pages 109-112
- Rosa ~ As a child I had more than once watched her | Page 112
- Rosa ~ We stood there so. And then suddenly it | Pages 112-113
- Rosa ~ Henry perhaps, to emerge from some door which | Page 113
- Rosa ~ Or not expect perhaps, not even hope; not | Pages 113-114
- Rosa ~ until the voice parted us, broke the spell. | Pages 114-115
- Rosa ~ Once there was - | Page 115
- Rosa ~ Do you mark how the wistaria, sun-impacted on this wall | Page 115
- Rosa ~ Once there was (they cannot have told you | Pages 115-116
- Rosa ~ while in that unpaced corridor which I called childhood | Page 116
- Rosa ~ fourteen, four years younger than Judith, four years | Pages 116-117
- Rosa ~ It was the summer after that first Christmas | Page 117
- Rosa ~ I had never seen him (I never saw him. | Page 117
- Rosa ~ There must have been some seed he left, | Pages 117-118
- Rosa ~ I dont know even now if I was ever | Page 118
- Rosa ~ Why did I not invent, create it? - And I know | Page 118
- Rosa ~ A picture seen by stealth, by creeping into | Pages 118-119
- Rosa ~ No, it was not that; I was not spying, | Page 119
- Rosa ~ Then my father returned and came for me | Pages 119-120
- Rosa ~ And then I went back home and stayed | Page 120
- Rosa ~ ran up a nightmare flight of steps, and found | Page 120
- Rosa ~ Yes, running out of that first year (that year | Page 120
- Rosa ~ the four years while I believed she waited | Pages 120-121
- Rosa ~ Yes, found her standing before that closed door | Page 121
- Rosa ~ That was all. Or rather, not all, since there | Pages 121-122
- Rosa ~ and in the lamplit kitchen helped this time | Pages 122-123
- Rosa ~ a strange gaunt half-wild horse, bridled and with | Page 123
- Rosa ~ Yes, more than that: he was absent, and | Page 123
- Rosa ~ Now you will ask me why I stayed there. | Pages 123-126
- Rosa ~ It was winter soon and already soldiers were beginning | Pages 126-127
- Rosa ~ And then one afternoon in January Thomas Sutpen | Pages 127-129
- Rosa ~ And then one evening I became engaged to marry him. | Pages 127-128
- Rosa ~ As Judith and Clytie did, I stood there | Pages 128-129
- Rosa ~ That was all. He rode up the drive and into | Pages 129-130
- Rosa ~ That was the winter when we began to learn | Page 130
- Rosa ~ Oh yes, I watched him, watched his old man's solitary | Pages 130-131
- Rosa ~ And then one afternoon (I was in the garden | Pages 131-132
- Rosa ~ who sat at the supper table that night with | Page 132
- Rosa ~ and then before the fire in Judith's bedroom | Pages 132-133
- Rosa ~ But for the next two months he did not even | Pages 133-134
- Rosa ~ But no matter. I will tell you what he did and | Pages 134-135
- Rosa ~ You see, I was that sun, or thought I was | Page 135
- Rosa ~ And then one afternoon - oh there was a fate | Page 136
- Rosa ~ They will have told you how I came back home. | Pages 136-138
- Rosa ~ But I forgave him. They will tell you different, but | Pages 138-139
- Rosa ~ at last in the stroke of a rusty scythe. | Page 139
- Narrator ~ But Quentin was not listening, because there was | Page 139
- Quentin ~ that door, the running feet on the stairs beyond it | Pages 139-140
- Narrator ~ He (Quentin) couldn't pass that. He was not even | Page 140
- Narrator ~ There was snow on Shreve's overcoat sleeve, his | Page 141
- Father ~ My dear son, Miss Rosa Coldfield was buried yesterday. | Pages 141-142
- Narrator ~ bringing with it that very September evening itself | Page 142
- Narrator ~ and that not Shreve's first time, nobody's first | Page 142
- Narrator ~ that very September evening when Mr Compson stopped | Page 142
- Narrator ~ because he had not been listening since he | Page 142
- Narrator ~ And she (Miss Coldfield) had on the shawl, | Pages 142-143
- Narrator ~ that evening, the twelve miles behind the fat mare | Page 143
- Narrator ~ (then Shreve again, "Wait. Wait. You mean this old gal, | Pages 143-144
- Shreve ~ "That this old dame that grew up in a household | Page 144
- Shreve ~ then her father nailed himself up in the attic | Page 144
- Shreve ~ and right about the brother-in-law because if | Page 144
- Shreve ~ would not have had to be blown back to town | Page 144
- Shreve ~ because he found a successor by just turning | Pages 144-145
- Shreve ~ he would be dead too since she doubtless foresaw | Page 145
- Shreve ~ "That this Faustus, this demon, this Beelzebub | Page 145
- Shreve ~ this Faustus who appeared suddenly one Sunday | Page 145
- Shreve ~ and chose (bought her, outswapped his father-in-law, | Page 145
- Shreve ~ could would and did breed him two children | Pages 145-146
- Shreve ~ and so sure enough the daughter fell in love | Page 146
- Shreve ~ and then the demon must turn square around | Page 146
- Shreve ~ he (the son) should do the office of the outraged | Page 146
- Shreve ~ and then almost before his foot was | Page 146
- Shreve ~ then three months later, with no date ever set | Pages 146-147
- Shreve ~ and was free now, forever more now of threat | Page 147
- Shreve ~ and so running his little crossroads store with | Page 147
- Narrator ~ "Yes," Quentin said. He sounds just like Father he thought | Pages 147-148
- Quentin-Shreve ~ thinking Mad impotent old man who realised at last | Page 148
- Quentin-Shreve ~ the aunt who came to succor her in bereavement | Page 148
- Quentin-Shreve ~ which she wore during the next year while | Page 148
- Quentin-Shreve ~ against which the rusty scythe which Sutpen was to lend | Page 148
- Quentin-Shreve ~ and at last forced him to use though not | Page 148
- Quentin-Shreve ~ would lean for two years) | Page 148
- Quentin-Shreve ~ wore still after the aunt's indignation had swept | Page 148
- Quentin-Shreve ~ the three of them, the two daughters negro and white | Pages 148-149
- Quentin-Shreve ~ this gangling malaria-ridden white man whom | Page 149
- Quentin-Shreve ~ Jones, partner porter and clerk who at the demon's command | Page 149
- Quentin-Shreve ~ Jones who before '61 had not even been allowed | Page 149
- Quentin-Shreve ~ who during the next four years got no nearer | Page 149
- Quentin-Shreve ~ who now entered the house itself on the | Page 149
- Quentin-Shreve ~ who in the old days, the old dead Sunday afternoons | Page 149
- Quentin-Shreve ~ the two of them drinking turn and turn about | Pages 149-150
- Quentin-Shreve ~ and carry him up the front steps and through | Page 150
- Quentin-Shreve ~ this Jones who after the demon rode away | Page 150
- Narrator ~ "Yes," Quentin said. | Page 150
- Quentin-Shreve ~ So that Sunday morning came and the demon up | Page 150
- Quentin-Shreve ~ and it was almost a week before they caught, found, | Pages 150-151
- Midwife ~ who was squatting beside the quilt pallet that dawn | Page 151
- Quentin-Shreve ~ And that night they finally found him and | Page 151
- Quentin-Shreve ~ who used to like to drive fast to church | Page 151
- Quentin-Shreve ~ who used to like to drive fast to church | Pages 151-152
- Quentin-Shreve ~ the daughter extricated him and fetched him back to | Page 152
- Quentin-Shreve ~ since she ran the store herself now until | Page 152
- Quentin-Shreve ~ (and maybe to the same place; maybe They | Page 152
- Quentin-Shreve ~ hailed by women and children with pails and baskets | Page 152
- Quentin-Shreve ~ until she sold the store at last and spent | Page 152
- Quentin ~ "How was it?" Shreve said. "You told me; | Page 152
- Narrator ~ and he and his father crossed just as the rain | Pages 152-154
- Quentin ~ It seemed to Quentin that he could actually see them: | Pages 154-155
- Narrator ~ "But that dont explain the other three," he said. | Page 155
- Narrator ~ Charles Bon. Born in New Orleans, Louisiana. Died | Page 155
- Narrator ~ He could feel his father watching him. | Page 155
- Narrator ~ Charles Etienne Saint-Valery Bon. 1859-1884 | Page 155
- Narrator ~ feeling his father watching him, remarking before | Page 155
- Father-Grandfather ~ Judith came into town one day and brought him | Pages 155-156
- Narrator ~ "Oh," Quentin said. "Yes. They lead beautiful lives | Page 156
- Father-Grandfather ~ "Yes. But there was one afternoon in the summer | Pages 156-157
- Narrator ~ (who, not bereaved, did not need to mourn | Page 157
- Father-Grandfather ~ who stood just inside the cedars, in the calico | Pages 157-158
- Father-Grandfather ~ "She stayed a week. She passed the rest | Pages 158-159
- Father-Grandfather ~ And your grandfather never knew if it was | Page 159
- Father-Grandfather ~ Clytie who had never been further from Sutpen's Hundred | Page 159
- Father-Grandfather ~ (your grandfather said you did not wonder what | Page 159
- Father ~ but produced complete and subject to no microbe | Pages 159-160
- Father ~ (they made, they must have made, that week's journey | Page 160
- Father ~ and so could have only suspected, surmised, where | Page 160
- Father-Grandfather ~ Yes, sleeping in the trundle bed beside Judith's, | Pages 160-161
- Father-Grandfather ~ (and your grandfather said, 'Suffer little children | Page 161
- Father-Grandfather ~ look upon the human creature who feeds it, who | Page 161
- Father-Grandfather ~ "And your grandfather did not know either | Pages 161-163
- Father-Grandfather ~ Your grandfather didn't know, even though he | Page 163
- Father-Grandfather ~ your grandfather to whose office Judith came | Page 163
- Father-Grandfather ~ the crowded room which they entered and your | Pages 163-164
- Father-Grandfather ~ a negro ball held in a cabin a few miles | Page 164
- Father-Grandfather ~ and only your grandfather to fumble, grope, grasp | Pages 164-165
- Father-Grandfather ~ "Your grandfather got him out, quashed the indictment | Page 165
- Father-Grandfather ~ "So he departed, and your grandfather rode out | Pages 165-166
- Father-Grandfather ~ And now, next time, he was not sent for; | Page 166
- Father-Grandfather ~ even a year later and after their son was born, | Page 166
- Father-Grandfather ~ still existed in that aghast and automaton-like state | Pages 166-167
- Father-Grandfather ~ (and this last none knew even now if | Page 167
- Father-Grandfather ~ how there followed something like a year | Page 167
- Father-Grandfather ~ or in city honky-tonks who thought | Page 167
- Father-Grandfather ~ the white men who, when he said | Page 167
- Father-Grandfather ~ "So he showed Judith the license and took | Pages 167-168
- Father ~ (Because there was love Mr Compson said | Page 168
- Narrator ~ He (Quentin) could see it, as plainly as | Page 168
- Quentin-Shreve ~ and who to know what moral restoration she might | Pages 168-169
- Town ~ "Not your grandfather. He knew only what | Page 169
- Father-Grandfather ~ who was not seen in Jefferson but three times | Pages 169-170
- Father-Grandfather ~ So they did not even miss him from town | Page 170
- Father-Grandfather ~ Within the week your grandfather learned that | Page 170
- Narrator ~ "Oh," Quentin said. - Yes he thought Too much, | Page 170
- Narrator ~ remembering how he had looked at the fifth | Pages 170-171
- Quentin ~ thinking about, imagining what careful printed directions | Page 170
- Quentin ~ and how Clytie must have lived during the next | Page 170
- Narrator ~ He had to brush the clinging cedar needles | Pages 170-171
- Quentin ~ thinking Yes, to too much, too long. I didn't | Page 171
- Father ~ Beautiful lives - women do. In very breathing they | Page 171
- Father ~ He had been the executor of her father's estate, | Pages 171-172
- Father ~ (he, Benbow, had in his office a portfolio, | Page 172
- Shreve ~ But you were not listening, because you knew | Page 172
- Shreve ~ who had been here before, seen those graves | Page 172
- Shreve ~ although it had stood there empty and unthreatening | Pages 172-173
- Shreve ~ the rotting shell with its sagging portico and scaling | Page 173
- Shreve ~ and you and Luster had both been there that day | Pages 173-174
- Shreve ~ "Yes," Quentin said. "And that was the one Luster | Page 174
- Shreve ~ "And that he lived in that cabin behind the haunted house | Pages 174-175
- Shreve ~ And yet this old gal, this Aunt Rosa, | Page 175
- Shreve ~ and so you went out there, drove the twelve miles | Page 175
- Narrator ~ There was no snow on Shreve's arm now, | Pages 176-177
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ "He told Grandfather about it," he said. "That time | Page 177
- Narrator ~ ("The demon, hey?" Shreve said. Quentin did not | Page 177
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ " - sent word in to Grandfather and some others | Page 177
- Narrator ~ ("Maybe he had a girl," Shreve said. "Or maybe | Page 177
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ " - and so he went. He seemed to vanish in broad | Pages 177-178
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ And Grandfather (he was young then too) brought | Page 178
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ Then it was daylight and the dogs had a | Page 178
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ And so he told Grandfather something about it. | Pages 178-179
- Narrator ~ ("Not in West Virginia," Shreve said. " - What?" Quentin | Page 179
- Sutpen ~ " - where what few other people he knew lived | Pages 179-180
- Sutpen ~ "That's how it was. They fell into it, the whole | Page 180
- Quentin ~ (when the ship from the Old Bailey reached Jamestown | Page 180
- Sutpen ~ tumbled head over heels back to Tidewater | Pages 180-181
- Sutpen ~ He didn't know why they moved, or didn't remember | Page 181
- Sutpen ~ He didn't remember if it was weeks or months | Pages 181-183
- Sutpen ~ Because they were stopped now at last. He didn't know | Pages 183-184
- Sutpen ~ and the man who owned all the land | Pages 184-185
- Sutpen ~ He didn't even know he was innocent that day when | Pages 185-186
- Sutpen ~ and a part of him turn and rush back through | Pages 186-188
- Sutpen ~ And now he stood there before that white door | Page 188
- Sutpen ~ He didn't even remember leaving. All of a sudden | Pages 188-190
- Sutpen ~ Now he was hungry. It was before dinner | Pages 190-192
- Narrator ~ "He went to the West Indies." Quentin had not moved, | Pages 192-193
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ "That was how he said it. He and Grandfather | Page 193
- Sutpen ~ "He went to the West Indies. That's how he said it: | Page 193
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ saying it just like that day thirty years later | Pages 193-194
- Sutpen ~ just told Grandfather how he had put his first wife | Page 194
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ telling Grandfather in that same tone while they sat | Page 194
- Sutpen ~ 'So I went to the West Indies. I had had | Pages 194-195
- Sutpen ~ I remember how I remained one afternoon when school | Pages 195-196
- Sutpen ~ So when the time came when I realised that | Page 196
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ "Then the other guests began to ride up, and | Pages 196-197
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ he said, 'There it is' and got up and they all | Pages 197-198
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ And he said how Sutpen was talking about it | Page 198
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ just as the fine broadcloth uniform which you could have | Page 198
- Sutpen ~ He was telling some more of it, already | Pages 198-199
- Sutpen ~ he not telling how he got there, what had happened | Page 199
- Narrator ~ (and now Grandfather said there was the first | Page 199
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ " - whom he was to tell Grandfather thirty years | Page 199
- Sutpen ~ and a few frightened half-breed servants which he | Page 199
- Quentin ~ and I reckon Grandfather was saying 'Wait wait | Page 199
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ Or maybe it was the fact that they were sitting again | Pages 199-200
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ So it was no tale about women, and certainly | Page 200
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ and Grandfather said how he remembered then | Pages 200-201
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ the girl just emerging for a second of the telling, | Page 201
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ No more detail and information about that than about | Page 201
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ Because he was not afraid until after it was all over, | Pages 201-202
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ And he overseeing it, riding peacefully about on | Pages 202-203
- Sutpen ~ And he not telling that either, how that day happened, | Page 203
- Sutpen ~ (he told Grandfather how until that first night | Page 203
- Sutpen ~ as foreigners; - the body of one of the half breeds found | Page 203
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ and he sitting on the log, Grandfather said, | Page 203
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ whom Grandfather himself had seen fight naked chest to chest | Pages 203-204
- Sutpen ~ sitting there and telling Grandfather how at last | Page 204
- Sutpen ~ then the house, the barricade, the five of them | Page 204
- Sutpen ~ and how on the eighth night the water gave | Page 204
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ and Grandfather saying 'Wait wait' sure enough | Page 204
- Sutpen ~ Not how he did it. He didn't tell that | Pages 204-205
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ (he showed Grandfather the scars, one of which | Page 205
- Sutpen ~ and then daylight came with no drums in it | Page 205
- Narrator ~ "All right," Shreve said. "Go on." "I said he stopped," | Pages 205-206
- Narrator ~ "He just said that he was now engaged to be married | Page 206
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ "But they didn't. It was late afternoon before they | Page 206
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ They never did find it so Grandfather gave him | Pages 206-207
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ a little harried wild-faced man with a two-days' stubble | Page 207
- Narrator ~ Quentin ceased. At once Shreve said, "All right. | Page 208
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ "It was thirty years before he told Grandfather | Page 208
- Father ~ "Yes," Shreve said; "Mr Coldfield: what was that?" | Pages 208-209
- Father ~ hated that country so much that he was even | Page 209
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ "Sure," Shreve said. "That's fine. But Sutpen. The design. | Pages 209-210
- Father ~ Only Father said that that wasn't it now, | Page 210
- Quentin ~ "Dont say it's just me that sounds like your | Page 210
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ "Yes, the two children, the son and the daughter | Pages 210-211
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ like he chose his twenty niggers out of whatever | Page 211
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ And Grandfather said there was no conscience | Pages 211-212
- Sutpen ~ suffice that I had the wife, accepted her in | Page 212
- Sutpen ~ a fact which I did not learn until after | Pages 212-213
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ And yet, after more than thirty years, more than | Page 213
- Narrator ~ It was at this point that Shreve went to | Page 213
- Shreve ~ "All right," he said. "So that Christmas Henry | Page 213
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ "Yes," Quentin said. "Father said he probably named him | Pages 213-214
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ just as he named them all - the Charles Goods, | Page 214
- Quentin ~ "Your father," Shreve said. "He seems to have | Page 214
- Father ~ " - said how he must have stood there on the | Pages 214-215
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ and which he came to Grandfather, not to | Page 215
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ Because he did not give up. He never did | Page 215
- Father ~ Then Henry and Bon went back to school and | Pages 215-216
- Quentin ~ He didn't do anything at all until spring | Page 216
- Father ~ and the next Christmas came and Henry and Bon | Pages 216-217
- Quentin ~ Then it was '61 and Sutpen knew what they | Page 217
- Quentin ~ That was the day he came to the office, | Pages 217-218
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ and came in to see Grandfather, trying to explain | Pages 218-220
- Narrator ~ "Your old man," Shreve said. "When your grandfather | Pages 220-221
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ "He left for Virginia that night. Grandfather said | Page 221
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ He could still reach Sutpen's Hundred before dark, | Page 221
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ Then it was '65 and the army (Grandfather | Pages 221-222
- Narrator ~ "So he got his choice made after all," Shreve said. | Page 222
- Narrator ~ (that at least regarding which he should have needed | Pages 222-223
- Father ~ He had returned. He was home again where his problem | Pages 223-224
- Father ~ It broke down, it vanished into that old impotent | Page 224
- Narrator ~ "No," Shreve said, "you wait. Let me play a while | Pages 224-225
- Quentin ~ " - no reserve to risk a spotting shot with now | Page 225
- Father ~ that after he went away with the regiment | Pages 225-226
- Father ~ Maybe he even delivered the first string | Pages 226-227
- Quentin ~ and Father said how that afternoon Grandfather rode | Pages 227-228
- Quentin ~ "So that Sunday came, a year after that day | Page 228
- Father ~ (Father said Judith actually did this; this was no lie | Pages 228-229
- Quentin ~ So it was not until he failed to return at | Page 229
- Quentin ~ and the boy walked whistling around the corner | Page 229
- Quentin ~ Then about a week later they caught | Page 229
- Midwife ~ and she told how she didn't know that Wash | Pages 229-230
- Narrator ~ "Wait," Shreve said; "wait. You mean that he had | Page 230
- Father ~ " - walked the three miles and back before midnight | Page 230
- Father ~ until daylight came and the granddaughter stopped screaming | Pages 230-231
- Father ~ and maybe still standing there and holding the stallion's | Page 231
- Narrator ~ "Wait," Shreve said; "for Christ's sake wait. | Page 231
- Father ~ " - sat there all that day in the little window | Pages 231-233
- Major de Spain ~ Then they rode up. He must have been listening | Page 233
- Narrator ~ "Wait," Shreve said. "You mean that he got the son | Page 234
- Grandfather-Quentin ~ Sitting in Grandfather's office that afternoon, with | Page 234
- Narrator ~ "Will you wait?" Shreve said. " - that with the son | Page 234
- Narrator ~ There would be no deep breathing tonight. The window | Page 235
- Shreve ~ "So the old man sent the nigger for Henry," | Page 235
- Narrator ~ Shreve stood beside the table, facing Quentin | Pages 235-236
- Shreve-Quentin ~ one in a Mississippi library sixty years ago, with | Pages 236-237
- Narrator ~ be already clattering over the frozen ruts of that December | Page 237
- Shreve ~ "And Bon didn't know it," Shreve said. "The old man | Page 237
- Shreve ~ But Bon didn't. Listen, dont you remember how | Pages 237-238
- Shreve ~ Jesus, you can almost see him: a little boy | Pages 238-240
- Narrator ~ They stared at one another - glared rather - their | Page 240
- Shreve ~ "Then he got older and got out from under | Page 240
- Shreve ~ and so all to check him up about the money | Pages 240-241
- Shreve ~ Sure, that's who it would be: the lawyer, | Page 241
- Shreve ~ Today he finished robbing a drunken Indian | Page 241
- Shreve ~ trailing off not because thinking trailed off, but | Pages 241-242
- Shreve ~ (he would have known about the octoroon and | Pages 242-243
- Narrator ~ They stared - glared - at one another, their voices | Page 243
- Shreve-Quentin ~ " - the old Sabine, who couldn't to save her life | Pages 243-244
- Shreve-Quentin ~ home again where, among the Florentine mirrors and | Pages 244-245
- Shreve-Quentin ~ And him - " (Neither of them said 'Bon') | Page 245
- Shreve-Quentin ~ "So he went away. He went away to school | Page 246
- Shreve-Quentin ~ Maybe the mother found out about the octoroon | Pages 246-247
- Shreve-Quentin ~ then to depart, kissing her maybe, her hand | Page 247
- Shreve-Quentin ~ because she went to the lawyer. And it was | Pages 247-248
- Shreve-Quentin ~ So maybe she wasn't out of the office good | Page 248
- Shreve-Quentin ~ "And he didn't care about that too; he just | Page 248
- Shreve-Quentin ~ and maybe he lounged into the lawyer's office and | Pages 248-249
- Narrator ~ (neither of them said 'Bon'. Never at any time | Page 249
- Shreve-Quentin ~ " - listening courteous and quiet behind that expression which | Page 249
- Narrator ~ Where did you say?" "Oxford," Quentin said. | Page 249
- Shreve-Quentin ~ " - 'Oxford.' And then the papers could be still | Page 249
- Shreve-Quentin ~ maybe not even goodbye to the octoroon, to | Pages 249-250
- Shreve-Quentin ~ and one night he walked up the gangplank | Pages 250-251
- Shreve-Quentin ~ and one day Henry showed it to him | Page 251
- Narrator ~ The letter which he - " it was not Bon he meant | Page 251
- Shreve-Quentin ~ " - wrote maybe as soon as he finished that last | Page 251
- Shreve-Quentin ~ My Dear Mr Sutpen: The undersigned name will | Pages 251-252
- Shreve-Quentin ~ Not goodbye; all right, who had had so many fathers | Pages 252-253
- Narrator ~ "And now," Shreve said, "we're going to talk about love." | Page 253
- Shreve-Quentin ~ "And now, love. He must have known all about her | Pages 253-255
- Shreve-Quentin ~ then (Bon) agreeing at last, saying at last, | Page 255
- Shreve-Quentin ~ So the Christmas came and he and Henry rode | Pages 255-256
- Shreve-Quentin ~ And went into the house: and maybe somebody looking | Page 256
- Shreve-Quentin ~ And he spent ten days there, not only the | Page 256
- Shreve-Quentin ~ and which he did remain to her until he disappeared | Page 256
- Shreve-Quentin ~ (And the girl, the sister, the virgin - Jesus, | Page 256
- Shreve-Quentin ~ And the day came to depart and no sign yet; | Pages 256-257
- Narrator ~ "Wait," Shreve cried, though Quentin had not spoken: | Page 257
- Shreve-Quentin ~ "Because he hadn't even looked at her. Oh, he had | Pages 257-258
- Narrator ~ Does that suit you?" "But it's not love," Quentin said. | Page 258
- Shreve-Quentin ~ He just didn't have time yet. Jesus, he must | Pages 258-259
- Narrator ~ because who (without a sister: I dont know about | Pages 259-260
- Shreve-Quentin ~ Because he never had to worry about the love | Pages 260-261
- Shreve-Quentin ~ It was the other. Maybe he thought it would be | Page 261
- Shreve-Quentin ~ and then Henry began to talk about his stopping | Pages 261-262
- Shreve-Quentin ~ So the day came and he and Henry rode | Page 262
- Shreve ~ (It would be June now and what would it be | Page 262
- Shreve-Quentin ~ it would be June now, with the magnolias and | Pages 262-263
- Narrator ~ "That's still not love," Quentin said. | Page 263
- Shreve-Quentin ~ Rode the forty miles and into the gates and | Page 263
- Shreve-Quentin ~ thinking of the two of them, the sombre vengeful | Page 263
- Shreve-Quentin ~ Jesus, think of his heart then, during those two | Page 263
- Father ~ didn't your father say how she had even taken | Page 263
- Shreve-Quentin ~ and Judith neither having to accede to the throwing | Pages 263-264
- Shreve-Quentin ~ so that (maybe he even kissed her that time, | Page 264
- Shreve-Quentin ~ so that when the two days were up and he | Page 264
- Shreve-Quentin ~ Think of his heart then, while he rode to | Pages 264-265
- Shreve-Quentin ~ Then he reached home. And he never learned if | Page 265
- Shreve-Quentin ~ the very fact that he saw through the skillful questions | Page 265
- Shreve-Quentin ~ the shortest one of all next to the last one | Page 265
- Shreve-Quentin ~ Because the lawyer would not dare risk asking | Page 265
- Shreve-Quentin ~ and the summer passed and September came and still | Page 265
- Shreve-Quentin ~ So he returned to school, where Henry was waiting | Pages 265-266
- Shreve-Quentin ~ And the fall passed and Christmas came and they | Page 266
- Shreve-Quentin ~ So maybe what he was doing that twilight | Page 266
- Shreve-Quentin ~ (and Judith thinking about that like she thought | Page 266
- Shreve-Quentin ~ maybe what he was doing there now was waiting | Page 266
- Shreve-Quentin ~ And he stood there facing the house until Henry | Pages 266-267
- Narrator ~ Shreve ceased. That is, for all the two of them, | Page 267
- Narrator ~ believing that that must have occurred to Henry, | Page 267
- Narrator ~ So it was four of them who rode the two horses | Page 267
- Narrator ~ There would be Christmas on the boat too: | Pages 267-268
- Narrator ~ So it was four of them still who got off | Page 268
- Narrator ~ Four of them there, in that room in New Orleans | Page 268
- Narrator ~ And Bon may have, probably did, take Henry to | Page 268
- Narrator ~ In fact, Quentin did not even tell Shreve what | Page 268
- Narrator ~ Perhaps Quentin himself had not been listening when | Page 268
- Narrator ~ since both he and Shreve believed - and were probably | Pages 268-269
- Shreve-Quentin ~ "So the old dame asked Henry that one question | Page 269
- Shreve-Quentin ~ And so now it would be short, this time with | Page 269
- Shreve-Quentin ~ all of a week maybe (after he - the lawyer - would | Page 269
- Shreve-Quentin ~ before he would contrive Bon too, and maybe | Pages 269-271
- Shreve ~ ("Listen," Shreve said, cried. "It would be while | Page 271
- Shreve ~ and so without doubt the lawyer had murdered her | Page 271
- Shreve-Quentin ~ Yes, they knew now. And Jesus, think of him, Bon, | Page 271
- Shreve-Quentin ~ And think of Henry, who had said at first | Pages 271-272
- Shreve-Quentin ~ And maybe it was two days or three days, and Henry | Page 272
- Shreve-Quentin ~ And maybe it was a week, maybe Bon took | Page 272
- Shreve-Quentin ~ during that winter and then that spring | Page 272
- Shreve-Quentin ~ and Henry and Bon already decided to go | Pages 272-273
- Shreve-Quentin ~ Then it was Christmas again, then 1861, | Page 273
- Shreve-Quentin ~ and they hadn't heard from Judith because Judith | Page 273
- Shreve-Quentin ~ So they took the steamboat North again, | Page 273
- Shreve-Quentin ~ And maybe this was one place where your old man | Page 273
- Shreve-Quentin ~ and they rode into Oxford without touching Sutpen's | Page 273
- Shreve-Quentin ~ and started for the front. "Jesus, think of them. | Pages 273-275
- Shreve-Quentin ~ Then it was the next year and Bon was an officer | Pages 274-275
- Shreve-Quentin ~ Then it was Shiloh, the second day and the lost battle | Page 275
- Shreve ~ And listen," Shreve cried; "wait, now; wait!" | Page 275
- Shreve-Quentin ~ it was not Bon, it was Henry; Bon that found Henry | Page 275
- Narrator ~ First, two of them, then four; now two again. | Page 275
- Narrator ~ since it was '64 and then '65 and the starved | Page 276
- Narrator ~ two, four, now two again, according to Quentin and Shreve | Page 276
- Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve ~ the one who did not yet know what he | Page 276
- Narrator ~ the two the four the two facing one another | Page 276
- Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve ~ ( - the winter of '64 now, the army retreated across | Pages 276-277
- Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve ~ Then it was '65 and what was left of the Army | Pages 277-278
- Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve ~ Then they were in Carolina, that January and February | Page 278
- Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve ~ Then March in Carolina and still the walking backward | Page 278
- Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve ~ Then one day (he was an officer; he would | Page 278
- Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve ~ And maybe it was that same night or maybe | Pages 278-279
- Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve ~ Then one night they had stopped again since Sherman | Page 279
- Shreve ~ "And so you and the old dame, the Aunt Rosa, | Pages 279-280
- Narrator ~ He ceased again. It was just as well, since | Page 280
- Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve ~ bivouac fires burning in a pine grove, the gaunt | Pages 280-281
- Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve ~ The orderly does not return with him. Instead, he walks | Pages 281-283
- Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve ~ Nor did Henry ever say that he did not remember | Pages 283-284
- Bon-Henry-Quentin-Shreve ~ Then it was dawn, or almost, and it was cold; | Pages 284-286
- Shreve ~ "And he never slipped away," Shreve said. "He could have, | Page 286
- Shreve ~ and Judith and Clytie heard the shot, and maybe Wash | Page 286
- Shreve ~ And your old man wouldn't know about that too: | Pages 286-287
- Narrator ~ At first, in bed in the dark, it seemed colder | Pages 288-289
- Shreve ~ That after almost fifty years she couldn't reconcile | Pages 289-290
- Quentin ~ He could taste the dust. Even now, with the chill | Page 290
- Quentin ~ and (as during the long hot afternoon in the | Pages 290-291
- Quentin ~ and all remaining to look at him with unchanged regard | Page 291
- Narrator ~ Now Quentin began to breathe hard again, who had | Page 291
- Quentin ~ She (Miss Coldfield) did not let him enter the gate. | Pages 291-293
- Quentin ~ But they reached it at last. It loomed, bulked, | Pages 293-294
- Quentin ~ 'so now I shall have to go in,' he thought, | Pages 294-295
- Quentin ~ She (Clytie) lay on the bare floor of the scaling | Pages 295-296
- Quentin ~ So when he came back down the stairs (and he remembered | Page 296
- Quentin ~ Nor did he overtake Miss Coldfield and the negro. | Pages 296-297
- Quentin ~ When he stopped the buggy at her gate she | Page 297
- Quentin ~ His own home was dark; he was still using the whip | Pages 297-298
- Quentin ~ waking or sleeping he walked down that upper hall | Page 298
- Narrator ~ It was quite cold in the room now; the chimes | Pages 298-299
- Shreve ~ "But at last she did reconcile herself to it, | Page 299
- Narrator ~ Now the chimes began, ringing for one oclock. | Page 299
- Quentin ~ the ambulance with Miss Coldfield between the driver | Pages 299-301
- Quentin ~ And the deputy and the driver would spring out | Pages 300-301
- Shreve ~ "And so it was the Aunt Rosa that came back | Page 301
- Narrator ~ Quentin did not answer; he did not even say, | Page 301
- Shreve ~ "And she went to bed because it was all finished | Page 301
- Shreve ~ there was nothing left now, nothing out there now | Page 301
- Narrator ~ Quentin did not answer, staring at the window; | Page 301
- Father ~ - or perhaps there is. Surely it can harm no one to believe | Pages 301-302
- Narrator ~ "So it took Charles Bon and his mother to get rid | Page 302
- Narrator ~ Now I want you to tell me just one thing more. | Page 303
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