The man who sold his wife.
The conversation took a turn. The theme now was the ruin of good men by bad wives, and, more particularly, the frustration of many
a promising young man's high hopes by an early marriage.
'I did it myself,' said the hay-makerwith bitterness. 'I married at
5eighteen, like the fool that I was; and this is the consequence o't.'
He pointed at himself and family. The young woman, his wife, who seemed accustomed to such remarks, acted as if she did not hear them.
The auctioneer selling the horses in the field outside could be heard saying, 'Now this is the last lot — now who'll take the last lot? Shall I say
10 two guineas? 'Tis a promising brood-mare,a trifle over five years old.' The hay-makercontinued. 'For my part, I don't see why men who have got wives and don't want 'em shouldn't get rid of 'em as these gipsy fellows do their horses. Why, I'd sell mine this minute if anyone would buy her!' The fuddled young husband stared around for a few is seconds, then said harshly, 'Well, then, now is your chance; I am open to an offer.'
Michael Henchard, an unemployed hay-maker,has arrived with his wife, Susan, and child at a village fair and horse auction. He has had too much to drink and is becoming increasingly loud and aggressive.
She turned to her husband and murmured, 'Michael, you have talked this nonsense in public places before. A joke is a joke, but you may make it
5 once too often, mind!'
'I know I've said it before, and I meant it. All I want is a buyer. Here, I am waiting to know about this offer of mine. The woman is no good to me.
10 Who'll have her?'
The woman whispered; she was imploring and anxious. 'Come, come, it is getting dark, and this nonsense won't do. If you don't come along, I shall 15 go without you. Come!' She waited and
waited; yet he did not move.
'I asked this question and nobody answered to't. Will anybody buy her?'
The woman's manner changed. T wish somebody would,' 20 said she firmly. 'Her present owner is not to her liking!'
'Nor you to mine,' said he. 'Now stand up, Susan, and show yourself. Who's the auctioneer?'
'I be,' promptly answered a short man. 'Who'll make an offer for this lady?'
25 'Five shillings,' said someone, at which there was a laugh. 'No insults,' said the husband. 'Who'll say a guinea?'
Nobody answered. 'Set it higher, auctioneer.'
'Two guineas!' said the auctioneer; and no one replied. 'If they don't take her for that, in ten seconds they'll
30 have to give more,' said the husband. 'Very well. Now, auctioneer, add another.'
'Three guineas. Going for three guineas!'
Til tell ye what. I won't sell her for less than five,' said the husband, bringing down his fist. Til sell her for five guineas 35 to any man that will pay me the money and treat her well; and he shall have her for ever. Now then, five guineas and she's yours. Susan, you agree?' She bowed her head with
absolute indifference.
'Five guineas,' said the auctioneer. 'Do anybody give it? The 40 last time. Yes or no?'
'Yes,' said a loud voice from the doorway.
All eyes were turned. Standing in the triangular opening which formed the door of the tent, was a sailor, who, unobserved by the rest, had arrived there within the last two or three minutes. A dead silence followed.
'You say you do?' asked the husband, staring at him.
'I say so,' replied the sailor.
'Saying is one thing, and paying is another. Where's the money?'
The sailor hesitated a moment, looked anew at the woman, came in, unfolded five crisp pieces of paper, and threw them down upon the table-cloth.They were Bank of England notes for five pounds. Upon these, he chinked down the shillings severally - one, two, three,
four, five. The sight of real money in full amount had a great effect upon the spectators. Their eyes became riveted upon the faces of the chief actors, and then upon the notes as they lay, weighted by the shillings, on the table. The lines of laughter left their faces, and they waited with parted lips.
'Now,' said the woman, breaking the silence, 'before you go further, Michael, listen to me. If you touch that money, I and this girl go with the man. Mind, it is a joke no longer.' 'A joke? Of course it is not a joke!' shouted her husband. 'I take the money, the sailor takes you.' He took the sailor's notes and deliberately folded them, and put them with the
shillings in a pocket with an air of finality.
The sailor looked at the woman and smiled. 'Come along!' he said kindly. 'The little one, too. The more the merrier!' She paused for an instant. Then, dropping her eyes again and saying nothing, she took up the child and followed him as he made towards the door. On reaching it, she turned, and pulling off herwedding-ring,flung it in thehay-maker'sface.
'Mike,' she said, Tve lived with thee a couple of years, and had nothing but ill-temper!Now I'll try my luck elsewhere. 'Twill be better for me andElizabeth-Jane,both. So good-bye!'