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+Project Gutenberg EBook Edward Fane's Rosebud, by Nathaniel Hawthorne
+From "Twice Told Tales"
+#46 in our series by Nathaniel Hawthorne
+
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+Title: Edward Fane's Rosebud (From "Twice Told Tales")
+
+Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne
+
+Release Date: Nov, 2005  [EBook #9219]
+[This file was first posted on August 31, 2003]
+[Last updated on February 5, 2007]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+
+
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, EDWARD FANE'S ROSEBUD ***
+
+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by David Widger  [widger@cecomet.net]
+
+
+
+
+
+                        TWICE TOLD TALES
+
+                     EDWARD FANE'S ROSEBUD
+
+                     By Nathaniel Hawthorne
+
+
+
+There is hardly a more difficult exercise of fancy, than, while gazing
+at a figure of melancholy age, to re-create its youth, and, without
+entirely obliterating the identity of form and features, to restore
+those graces which time has snatched away. Some old  people,
+especially women, so age-worn and woeful are they, seem never to have
+been young and gay.  It is  easier to conceive that such gloomy
+phantoms were sent into the world as withered and decrepit as we
+behold them now, with sympathies only for pain and grief, to watch at
+death-beds, and weep at funerals. Even the  sable garments of their
+widowhood appear essential to their existence; all their attributes
+combine to render them darksome shadows, creeping strangely amid the
+sunshine of human life.  Yet it is no unprofitable task, to take one
+of these doleful creatures, and set fancy resolutely at work to
+brighten the dim eye, and darken the silvery locks, and paint the
+ashen cheek with rose-color, and repair the shrunken and crazy form,
+till a dewy maiden shall be seen in the old matron's elbow-chair. The
+miracle being wrought, then let the years roll back again, each sadder
+than the last, and the whole weight of age and sorrow settle down upon
+the youthful figure.
+
+Wrinkles and furrows, the handwriting of Time, may thus be deciphered,
+and found to contain deep lessons of thought and feeling.  Such profit
+might be derived, by a skilful observer, from my much-respected
+friend, the Widow Toothaker, a nurse of great repute, who has breathed
+the atmosphere of sick-chambers and dying breaths these forty years.
+
+See! she sits cowering over her lonesome hearth, with her gown and
+upper petticoat drawn upward, gathering thriftily into her person the
+whole warmth of the fire, which, now at nightfall, begins to dissipate
+the autumnal chill of her chamber.  The blaze quivers capriciously in
+front, alternately glimmering into the deepest chasms of her wrinkled
+visage, and then permitting a ghostly dimness to mar the outlines of
+her venerable figure.  And Nurse Toothaker holds a teaspoon in her
+right hand, with which to stir up the contents of a tumbler in her
+left, whence steams a vapory fragrance, abhorred of temperance
+societies.  Now she sips,--now stirs,--now sips again.  Her sad old
+heart has need to be revived by the rich infusion of Geneva, which is
+mixed half and half with hot water, in the tumbler.  All day long she
+has been sitting by a death-pillow, and quitted it for her home, only
+when the spirit of her patient left the clay and went homeward too.
+But now are her melancholy meditations cheered, and her torpid blood
+warmed, and her shoulders lightened of at least twenty ponderous
+years, by a draught from the true Fountain of Youth, in a case-bottle.
+It is strange that men should deem that fount a fable when its liquor
+fills more bottles than the Congress-water!  Sip it again, good nurse,
+and see whether a second draught will not take off another score of
+years, and perhaps ten more, and show us, in your high-backed chair,
+the blooming damsel who plighted troths with Edward Fane.  Get you
+gone, Age and Widowhood!  Come back, unwedded Youth!  But, alas! the
+charm will not work.  In spite of fancy's most potent spell, I can see
+only an old dame cowering over the fire, a picture of decay and
+desolation, while the November blast roars at her in the chimney, and
+fitful showers rush suddenly against the window.
+
+Yet there was a time when Rose Grafton--such was the pretty maiden
+name of Nurse Toothaker--possessed beauty that would have gladdened
+this dim and dismal chamber as with sunshine.  It won for her the
+heart of Edward Fane, who has since made so great a figure in the
+world, and is now a grand old gentleman, with powdered hair, and as
+gouty as a lord.  These early lovers thought to have walked hand in
+hand through life.  They had wept together for Edward's little sister
+Mary, whom Rose tended in her sickness, partly because she was the
+sweetest child that ever lived or died, but more for love of him.  She
+was but three years old.  Being such an infant, Death could not embody
+his terrors in her little corpse; nor did Rose fear to touch the dead
+child's brow, though chill, as she curled the silken hair around it,
+nor to take her tiny hand, and clasp a flower within its fingers.
+Afterward, when she looked through the pane of glass in the coffin-
+lid, and beheld Mary's face, it seemed not so much like death, or
+life, as like a waxwork, wrought into the perfect image of a child
+asleep, and dreaming of its mother's smile.  Rose thought her too fair
+a thing to be hidden in the grave, and wondered that an angel did not
+snatch up little Mary's coffin, and bear the slumbering babe to
+heaven, and bid her wake immortal.  But when the sods were laid on
+little Mary, the heart of Rose was troubled.  She shuddered at the
+fantasy, that, in grasping the child's cold fingers, her virgin hand
+had exchanged a first greeting with mortality, and could never lose
+the earthly taint.  How many a greeting since!  But as yet, she was a
+fair young girl, with the dewdrops of fresh feeling in her bosom; and
+instead of Rose, which seemed too mature a name for her half-opened
+beauty, her lover called her Rosebud.
+
+The rosebud was destined never to bloom for Edward Fane.  His mother
+was a rich and haughty dame, with all the aristocratic prejudices of
+colonial times.  She scorned Rose Grafton's humble parentage, and
+caused her son to break his faith, though, had she let him choose, he
+would have prized his Rosebud above the richest diamond.  The lovers
+parted, and have seldom met again. Both may have visited the same
+mansions, but not at the same time; for one was bidden to the festal
+hall, and the other to the sick-chamber; he was the guest of Pleasure
+and Prosperity, and she of Anguish.  Rose, after their separation, was
+long secluded within the dwelling of Mr. Toothaker, whom she married
+with the revengeful hope of breaking her false lover's heart.  She
+went to her bridegroom's arms with bitterer tears, they say, than
+young girls ought to shed at the threshold of the bridal chamber.
+Yet, though her husband's head was getting gray, and his heart had
+been chilled with an autumnal frost, Rose soon began to love him, and
+wondered at her own conjugal affection.  He was all she had to love;
+there were no children.
+
+In a year or two, poor Mr. Toothaker was visited with a wearisome
+infirmity which settled in his joints, and made him weaker than a
+child.  He crept forth about his business, and came home at dinner-
+time and eventide, not with the manly tread that gladdens a wife's
+heart, but slowly, feebly, jotting down each dull footstep with a
+melancholy dub of his staff.  We must pardon his pretty wife, if she
+sometimes blushed to own him.  Her visitors, when they heard him
+coming, looked for the appearance of some old, old man; but he dragged
+his nerveless limbs into the parlor,--and there was Mr. Toothaker!
+The disease increasing, he never went into the sunshine, save with a
+staff in his right hand and his left on his wife's shoulder, bearing
+heavily downward, like a dead man's hand.  Thus, a slender woman,
+still looking maiden-like, she supported his tall, broad-chested frame
+along the pathway of their little garden, and plucked the roses for
+her gray-haired husband, and spoke soothingly, as to an infant.  His
+mind was palsied with his body; its utmost energy was peevishness.  In
+a few months more, she helped him up the staircase, with a pause at
+every step, and a longer one upon the landingplace, and a heavy glance
+behind, as he crossed the threshold of his chamber.  He knew, poor
+man, that the precincts of those four walls would thenceforth be his
+world,--his world, his home, his tomb,--at once a dwelling and a
+burial-place, till he were borne to a darker and a narrower one.  But
+Rose was with him in the tomb.  He leaned upon her, in his daily
+passage from the bed to the chair by the fireside, and back again from
+the weary chair to the joyless bed,--his bed and hers,--their
+marriage-bed; till even this short journey ceased, and his head lay
+all day upon the pillow, and hers all night beside it.  How long poor
+Mr. Toothaker was kept in misery!  Death seemed to draw near the door,
+and often to lift the latch, and sometimes to thrust his ugly skull
+into the chamber, nodding to Rose, and pointing at her husband, but
+still delayed to enter.  "This bedridden wretch cannot escape me!"
+quoth Death.  "I will go forth, and run a race with the swift, and
+fight a battle with the strong, and come back for Toothaker at my
+leisure!"  O, when the deliverer came so near in the dull anguish of
+her worn-out sympathies, did she never long to cry, "Death, come in!"
+
+But, no!  We have no right to ascribe such a wish to our friend Rose.
+She never failed in a wife's duty to her poor sick husband.  She
+murmured not, though a glimpse of the sunny sky was as strange to her
+as him, nor answered peevishly, though his complaining accents roused
+her from her sweetest dream, only to share his wretchedness.  He knew
+her faith, yet nourished a cankered jealousy; and when the slow
+disease had chilled all his heart, save one lukewarm spot, which
+Death's frozen fingers were searching for, his last words were, "What
+would my Rose have done for her first love, if she has been so true
+and kind to a sick old man like me!"   And then his poor soul crept
+away, and left the body lifeless, though hardly more so than for years
+before, and Rose a widow, though in truth it was the wedding-night
+that widowed her.  She felt glad, it must be owned, when Mr. Toothaker
+was buried, because his corpse had retained such a likeness to the man
+half alive, that she hearkened for the sad murmur of his voice,
+bidding her shift his pillow.  But all through the next winter, though
+the grave had held him many a month, she fancied him calling from that
+cold bed,  "Rose! Rose! come put a blanket on my feet."
+
+So now the Rosebud was the Widow Toothaker.  Her troubles had come
+early, and, tedious as they seemed, had passed before all her bloom
+was fled.  She was still fair enough to captivate a bachelor, or, with
+a widow's cheerful gravity, she might have won a widower, stealing
+into his heart in the very guise of his dead wife.  But the Widow
+Toothaker had no such projects.  By her watchings and continual cares,
+her heart had become knit to her first husband with a constancy which
+changed its very nature, and made her love him for his infirmities,
+and infirmity for his sake.  When the palsied old man was gone, even
+her early lover could not have supplied his place.  She had dwelt in a
+sick-chamber, and been the companion of a half-dead wretch, till she
+could scarcely breathe in a free air, and felt ill at ease with the
+healthy and the happy.  She missed the fragrance of the doctor's
+stuff.  She walked the chamber with a noiseless footfall.  If visitors
+came in, she spoke in soft and soothing accents, and was startled and
+shocked by their loud voices. Often in the lonesome evening, she
+looked timorously from the fireside to the bed, with almost a hope of
+recognizing a ghastly face upon the pillow.  Then went her thoughts
+sadly to her husband's grave.  If one impatient throb bad wronged him
+in his lifetime,--if she had secretly repined, because her buoyant
+youth was imprisoned with his torpid age,--if ever, while slumbering
+beside him, a treacherous dream had admitted another into her heart,--
+yet the sick man had been preparing a revenge, which the dead now
+claimed.  On his painful pillow, he had cast a spell around her; his
+groans and misery had proved more captivating charms than gayety and
+youthful grace; in his semblance, Disease itself had won the Rosebud
+for a bride; nor could his death dissolve the nuptials.  By that
+indissoluble bond she had gained a home in every sick-chamber, and
+nowhere else; there were her brethren and sisters; thither her husband
+summoned her, with that voice which had seemed to issue from the grave
+of Toothaker.  At length she recognized her destiny.
+
+We have beheld her as the maid, the wife, the widow; now we see her in
+a separate and insulated character; she was, in all her attributes,
+Nurse Toothaker.  And Nurse Toothaker alone, with her own shrivelled
+lips, could make known her experience in that capacity.  What a
+history might she record of the great sicknesses, in which she has
+gone hand in hand with the exterminating angel!  She remembers when
+the small-pox hoisted a red banner on almost every house along the
+street.  She has witnessed when the typhus fever swept off a whole
+household, young and old, all but a lonely mother, who vainly shrieked
+to follow her last loved one.  Where would be Death's triumph, if none
+lived to weep?  She can speak of strange maladies that have broken
+out, as if spontaneously, but were found to have been imported from
+foreign lands, with rich silks and other merchandise, the costliest
+portion of the cargo.  And once, she recollects, the people died of
+what was considered a new pestilence, till the doctors traced it to
+the ancient grave of a young girl, who thus caused many deaths a
+hundred years after her own burial.  Strange that such black mischief
+should lurk in a maiden's grave!  She loves to tell how strong men
+fight with fiery fevers, utterly refusing to give up their breath; and
+how consumptive virgins fade out of the world, scarcely reluctant, as
+if their lovers were wooing them to a far country.  Tell us, thou
+fearful woman! tell us the death-secrets!  Fain would I search out the
+meaning of words, faintly gasped with intermingled sobs, and broken
+sentences, half audibly spoken between earth and the judgment-seat!
+
+An awful woman!  She is the patron saint of young physicians, and the
+bosom friend of old ones.  In the mansions where she enters, the
+inmates provide themselves black garments; the coffin-maker follows
+her; and the bell tolls as she comes away from the threshold.  Death
+himself has met her at so many a bedside, that he puts forth his bony
+hand to greet Nurse Toothaker.
+
+She is an awful woman!  And, O, is it conceivable, that this handmaid
+of human infirmity and affliction--so darkly stained, so thoroughly
+imbued with all that is saddest in the doom of mortals--can ever again
+be bright and gladsome, even though bathed in the sunshine of
+eternity?  By her long communion with woe, has she not forfeited her
+inheritance of immortal joy?  Does any germ of bliss survive within
+her?
+
+Hark! an eager knocking at Nurse Toothaker's door.  She starts from
+her drowsy revery, sets aside the empty tumbler and teaspoon, and
+lights a lamp at the dim embers of the fire.  Rap, rap, rap! again;
+and she hurries a-down the staircase, wondering which of her friends
+can be at death's door now, since there is such an earnest messenger
+at Nurse Toothaker's.  Again the peal resounds, just as her hand is on
+the lock.   "Be quick, Nurse Toothaker!" cries a man on the doorstep;
+"old General Fane is taken with the gout in his stomach, and has sent
+for you to watch by his death-bed.  Make haste, for there is no time
+to lose!"
+
+"Fane! Edward Fane!  And has he sent for me at last?  I am ready!  I
+will get on my cloak and begone.  So," adds the sable-gowned, ashen-
+visaged, funereal old figure, "Edward Fane remembers his Rosebud!"
+
+Our question is answered.  There is a germ of bliss within her. Her
+long-hoarded constancy--her memory of the bliss that was--remaining
+amid the gloom of her after life, like a sweet-smelling flower in a
+coffin, is a symbol that all maybe renewed.  In some happier clime,
+the Rosebud may revive again with all the dewdrops in its bosom.
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, EDWARD FANE'S ROSEBUD ***
+By Nathaniel Hawthorne
+
+****** This file should be named haw4610.txt or haw4610.zip *****
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