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He did not covet the post relatively to the farm: in relation to herself, as beloved by him and unmarried to another, he had coveted it. His readings of her seemed now to be vapoury and indistinct. His lecture to her was, he thought, one of the absurdest mistakes. Far from coquetting with Boldwood, she had trifled with himself in thus feigning that she had trifled with another.
Boldwood, looking into the distant meadows, saw there three figures. They were those of Miss Everdene, Shepherd Oak, and Cainy Ball. When Bathsheba's figure shone upon the farmer's eyes it lighted him up as the moon lights up a great tower. A man's body is as the shell; or the tablet, of his soul, as he is reserved or ingenuous, overflowing or self-contained.
Why did't he win you away before, when nobody would have been grieved? when nobody would have been set tale-bearing. Now the people sneer at me the very hills and sky seem to laugh at me till I blush shamefuly for my folly. I have lost my respect, my good name, my standing lost it, never to get it again. Go and marry your man go on!" "O sir Mr. Boldwood!" "You may as well.
He would be nicknamed "Turpin" as long as he lived. Assuredly before he could claim her these few past months of his existence must be entirely blotted out. "Shall I get you another cup before you start, ma'am?" said Farmer Boldwood. I thank you," said Bathsheba. "But I must be going at once. It was great neglect in that man to keep me waiting here till so late.
The shepherd lifted the sixteen large legs and four small bodies he had himself brought, and vanished with them in the direction of the lambing field hard by their frames being now in a sleek and hopeful state, pleasantly contrasting with their death's-door plight of half an hour before. Boldwood followed him a little way up the field, hesitated, and turned back.
Boldwood was stepping on, not with that quiet tread of reserved strength which was his customary gait, in which he always seemed to be balancing two thoughts. His manner was stunned and sluggish now. Boldwood had for the first time been awakened to woman's privileges in tergiversation even when it involves another person's possible blight.
Yet Farmer Boldwood, whether by nature kind or the reverse to kind, did not exercise kindness, here. The rarest offerings of the purest loves are but a self- indulgence, and no generosity at all. Bathsheba, not being the least in love with him, was eventually able to look calmly at his offer.
Boldwood would naturally come to meet me." I meant on account of the wedding which they say is likely to take place between you and him, miss. Forgive my speaking plainly." "They say what is not true." she returned quickly. "No marriage is likely to take place between us." Gabriel now put forth his unobscured opinion, for the moment had come.
Remembering all that had occurred, she murmured, "I want to go home!" Boldwood left the room. He stood for a moment in the passage to recover his senses. The experience had been too much for his consciousness to keep up with, and now that he had grasped it it had gone again. For those few heavenly, golden moments she had been in his arms. What did it matter about her not knowing it?
Those who had just learnt that he was in the neighbourhood recognized him instantly; those who did not were perplexed. Nobody noted Bathsheba. She was leaning on the stairs. Her brow had heavily contracted; her whole face was pallid, her lips apart, her eyes rigidly staring at their visitor. Boldwood was among those who did not notice that he was Troy.
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