Sunday, 6 March 2016

The Canterville Ghost by Oscar Wilde: Chapter 7: CBSE: CLASS XI

The Canterville Ghost by Oscar Wilde: Chapter 7
The funeral procession of the ghost started at about 11 p.m. from Canterville Chase. The hearse (the vehicle in which the coffin is carried) was driven by eight black horses, each of which had a tuft of ostrich plumes. The coffin was covered by a pall (shroud) of rich purple colour. The servants walked with lighted torches by the side of the hearse. The whole procession was wonderfully impressive. Lord Canterville, who had come up especially from Wales to attend the funeral, was the chief mourner. He sat in the first carriage along with little Virginia. Then the US Minister and his wife, Washington and the three boys followed. Mrs. Umney, who had been frightened by the ghost for the last fifty years, was in the last carriage. A deep grave had been dug in the corner of the churchyard just under the yew-tree and the service was read in the most impressive manner by the Rev. Augustus Dampier. The servants extinguished the torches when the ceremony was over. It was done according to an old custom in the Canterville family. As coffin was being lowered into the grave, Virginia stepped forward and laid on it a large cross which was made of white  and pink almond blossoms. As this was done by her, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and the little churchyard was flooded with its silent silver light. From a distant copse (grove), a nightingale began to sing. As Virginia thought of the ghost’s description of the garden of death, her eyes became dim with tears. She hardly spoke any word during the drive home.
The next morning, Mr. Otis had an interview with Lord Canterville on the subject of the precious jewels the ghost had given to Virginia. Mr. Otis requested him to take those jewels with him and regard them as the part of his property. He also added that his daughter was too young to have interest in those things. He also told Lord Canterville about his wife’s opinion about the value of those jewels that they would fetch a tall price if offered for sale in the market. He further said that his daughter Virginia was only interested in keeping the box with her as a memento his unfortunate but misguided ancestor. He also appreciated and even felt proud of his little daughter for showing sympathy with medievalism (connected with the Middle Ages: about AD1000 to Ad 1450) in any form.
Lord Canterville listened to Mr. Otis seriously, pulling his grey moustache now and then to hide a smile. When Mr. Otis finished, he cordially shook him by his hand and said, “My dear sir, your charming little daughter rendered my unlucky ancestor, Sir Simon, a very important service and I and my family are much indebted to her for her marvelous courage and pluck (spirit). The jewels are clearly hers, and, egad (expressing surprise), I believe that if I were heartless enough to take them from her, the wicked old fellow would be out of his grave in a fortnight, leading me the devil of a life….” He further said that there was no mention of those jewels in the will or any legal document. Moreover, he reminded Mr. Otis that the furniture and the ghost were taken at valuation and so, every that belonged to the ghost also belonged to him.
Mr. Otis was distressed at Lord Canterville’s refusal, so he begged of him to reconsider his decision. The Lord was quite firm in his decision and finally induced the minister to allow his daughter to retain the present the ghost had given her.
When the young Duchess of Cheshire was presented at the Queen’s first drawing-room on the occasion of her marriage in the spring of 1890, her jewels were the main source of admiration. The Duke and Virginia were so charming that everyone was delighted at the match. Mr. Otis was extremely fond of the young Duke personally, but theoretically he was opposed to the titles because of his commitment to the true principles of Republican simplicity. However, at the marriage of his daughter, he was a proud man.
The Duke and the Duchess, after their honeymoon, went down to Canterville Chase and the next day they walked over to the lonely churchyard by the pine-woods. On Sir Simon’s, tombstone, the initials of the old gentleman’s name and the verse from the library window were engraved. The Duchess had brought with her some lovely roses, which she strewed (scattered) upon the grave. After sometime, they strolled into the ruined chancel (the part of the church that is near the place where the priest and the choir sit during services) of the old abbey. The Duchess sat down on a fallen pillar, while the husband lay at her feet smoking a cigarette and looking up at her beautiful eyes. Suddenly, he threw his cigarette away and said to her, “Virginia, a wife should have no secrets from her husband.”
“Dear Cecil! I have no secrets from you.”
“Yes, you have,” he answered, smiling, “you have never told me what happened to you when you were locked up with the ghost.”
“I have never told anyone, Cecil.” Said Virginia gravely.
“I know that, but you might tell me.”
“Please, don’t ask me, Cecil, I cannot tell you. Poor Sir Simon! I owe him a great deal. Yes, don’t laugh, Cecil, I really do. He made me see what Life is, and what Death signifies, and why Love is stronger than both.”
The Duke rose and kissed his wife lovingly.
“You can have your secret as long as I have your heart,” he murmured.
“You have always had that, Cecil.”
“And you will tell our children some day, won’t you?”

Virginia blushed.

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