Scr. Why, 'tis old Fezziwig, to whom I was apprenticed—he is alive again! My fellow-apprentice, Dick Wilkins, too—myself, as I was then. 'Tis Christmas eve there. The happiness he gave at so small a price was quite as much as though it cost a fortune. (The tableau fades away. The Stage becomes dark. Enter Ellen in mourning. During the fading of the tableau Scrooge puts a cloak around him, etc., and seems a younger man.) I feel as if my years of life were less. Ha! who is this beside me?
1st Spirit. Have you forgotten your early love?
Scr. Ellen!
Ellen. Ebenezer, I come to say farewell forever! It matters little to you—very little—another idol has displaced me, and if I can cheer and comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve.
Scr. What idol has displaced you?
Ellen. A golden one—the master passion. Gain alone engrosses you.
Scr. I have not changed towards you.
Ellen. Our contract is an old one—it was made when we were both poor. You are changed—I am not. That which promised happiness when we were one in heart, is fraught with misery now we are two. How often and how keenly I have thought of this I will not say. I have thought of it, and can release you.
Scr. Have I ever sought release?
Ellen. In word—no, never!