Chapter 12

by Herman Melville

　　STORY OF THE UNFORTUNATE MAN, FROM WHICH MAY BE GATHERED WHETHER OR NOHE HAS BEEN JUSTLY SO ENTITLED.It appeared that the unfortunate man had had for a wife one of thosenatures, anomalously vicious, which would almost tempt a metaphysicallover of our species to doubt whether the human form be, in all cases,conclusive evidence of humanity, whether, sometimes, it may not be akind of unpledged and indifferent tabernacle, and whether, once for allto crush the saying of Thrasea, (an unaccountable one, considering thathe himself was so good a man) that "he who hates vice, hates humanity,"it should not, in self-defense, be held for a reasonable maxim, thatnone but the good are human.Goneril was young, in person lithe and straight, too straight, indeed,for a woman, a complexion naturally rosy, and which would have beencharmingly so, but for a certain hardness and bakedness, like that ofthe glazed colors on stone-ware. Her hair was of a deep, rich chestnut,but worn in close, short curls all round her head. Her Indian figure wasnot without its impairing effect on her bust, while her mouth would havebeen pretty but for a trace of moustache. Upon the whole, aided by theresources of the toilet, her appearance at distance was such, that somemight have thought her, if anything, rather beautiful, though of a styleof beauty rather peculiar and cactus-like.It was happy for Goneril that her more striking peculiarities were lessof the person than of temper and taste. One hardly knows how to reveal,that, while having a natural antipathy to such things as the breast ofchicken, or custard, or peach, or grape, Goneril could yet in privatemake a satisfactory lunch on hard crackers and brawn of ham. She likedlemons, and the only kind of candy she loved were little dried sticks ofblue clay, secretly carried in her pocket. Withal she had hard, steadyhealth like a squaw's, with as firm a spirit and resolution. Some otherpoints about her were likewise such as pertain to the women of savagelife. Lithe though she was, she loved supineness, but upon occasioncould endure like a stoic. She was taciturn, too. From early morningtill about three o'clock in the afternoon she would seldom speak--ittaking that time to thaw her, by all accounts, into but talking termswith humanity. During the interval she did little but look, and keeplooking out of her large, metallic eyes, which her enemies called coldas a cuttle-fish's, but which by her were esteemed gazelle-like; forGoneril was not without vanity. Those who thought they best knew her,often wondered what happiness such a being could take in life, notconsidering the happiness which is to be had by some natures in the veryeasy way of simply causing pain to those around them. Those who sufferedfrom Goneril's strange nature, might, with one of those hyberboles towhich the resentful incline, have pronounced her some kind of toad; buther worst slanderers could never, with any show of justice, have accusedher of being a toady. In a large sense she possessed the virtue ofindependence of mind. Goneril held it flattery to hint praise even ofthe absent, and even if merited; but honesty, to fling people's imputedfaults into their faces. This was thought malice, but it certainly wasnot passion. Passion is human. Like an icicle-dagger, Goneril at oncestabbed and froze; so at least they said; and when she saw frankness andinnocence tyrannized into sad nervousness under her spell, according tothe same authority, inly she chewed her blue clay, and you could markthat she chuckled. These peculiarities were strange and unpleasing; butanother was alleged, one really incomprehensible. In company she had astrange way of touching, as by accident, the arm or hand of comely youngmen, and seemed to reap a secret delight from it, but whether from thehumane satisfaction of having given the evil-touch, as it is called, orwhether it was something else in her, not equally wonderful, but quiteas deplorable, remained an enigma.Needless to say what distress was the unfortunate man's, when, engagedin conversation with company, he would suddenly perceive his Gonerilbestowing her mysterious touches, especially in such cases where thestrangeness of the thing seemed to strike upon the touched person,notwithstanding good-breeding forbade his proposing the mystery, on thespot, as a subject of discussion for the company. In these cases, too,the unfortunate man could never endure so much as to look upon thetouched young gentleman afterwards, fearful of the mortification ofmeeting in his countenance some kind of more or less quizzingly-knowingexpression. He would shudderingly shun the young gentleman. So thathere, to the husband, Goneril's touch had the dread operation of theheathen taboo. Now Goneril brooked no chiding. So, at favorable times,he, in a wary manner, and not indelicately, would venture in privateinterviews gently to make distant allusions to this questionablepropensity. She divined him. But, in her cold loveless way, said it waswitless to be telling one's dreams, especially foolish ones; but if theunfortunate man liked connubially to rejoice his soul with suchchimeras, much connubial joy might they give him. All this was sad--atouching case--but all might, perhaps, have been borne by theunfortunate man--conscientiously mindful of his vow--for better or forworse--to love and cherish his dear Goneril so long as kind heaven mightspare her to him--but when, after all that had happened, the devil ofjealousy entered her, a calm, clayey, cakey devil, for none other couldpossess her, and the object of that deranged jealousy, her own child, alittle girl of seven, her father's consolation and pet; when he sawGoneril artfully torment the little innocent, and then play the maternalhypocrite with it, the unfortunate man's patient long-suffering gaveway. Knowing that she would neither confess nor amend, and might,possibly, become even worse than she was, he thought it but duty as afather, to withdraw the child from her; but, loving it as he did, hecould not do so without accompanying it into domestic exile himself.Which, hard though it was, he did. Whereupon the whole femaleneighborhood, who till now had little enough admired dame Goneril, brokeout in indignation against a husband, who, without assigning a cause,could deliberately abandon the wife of his bosom, and sharpen the stingto her, too, by depriving her of the solace of retaining her offspring.To all this, self-respect, with Christian charity towards Goneril, longkept the unfortunate man dumb. And well had it been had he continued so;for when, driven to desperation, he hinted something of the truth of thecase, not a soul would credit it; while for Goneril, she pronounced allhe said to be a malicious invention. Ere long, at the suggestion of somewoman's-rights women, the injured wife began a suit, and, thanks to ablecounsel and accommodating testimony, succeeded in such a way, as notonly to recover custody of the child, but to get such a settlementawarded upon a separation, as to make penniless the unfortunate man (sohe averred), besides, through the legal sympathy she enlisted, effectinga judicial blasting of his private reputation. What made it yet morelamentable was, that the unfortunate man, thinking that, before thecourt, his wisest plan, as well as the most Christian besides, being, ashe deemed, not at variance with the truth of the matter, would be to putforth the plea of the mental derangement of Goneril, which done, hecould, with less of mortification to himself, and odium to her, revealin self-defense those eccentricities which had led to his retirementfrom the joys of wedlock, had much ado in the end to prevent this chargeof derangement from fatally recoiling upon himself--especially, when,among other things, he alleged her mysterious teachings. In vain did hiscounsel, striving to make out the derangement to be where, in fact, ifanywhere, it was, urge that, to hold otherwise, to hold that such abeing as Goneril was sane, this was constructively a libel uponwomankind. Libel be it. And all ended by the unfortunate man'ssubsequently getting wind of Goneril's intention to procure him to bepermanently committed for a lunatic. Upon which he fled, and was now aninnocent outcast, wandering forlorn in the great valley of theMississippi, with a weed on his hat for the loss of his Goneril; for hehad lately seen by the papers that she was dead, and thought it butproper to comply with the prescribed form of mourning in such cases. Forsome days past he had been trying to get money enough to return to hischild, and was but now started with inadequate funds.Now all of this, from the beginning, the good merchant could not butconsider rather hard for the unfortunate man.