ARTHUR
1

I lived in the city all this time, many motives that led to my being detained, despite the easy and heavy departure, and my friends generally wanted me to leave. It is not my purpose to mention these motives, or to think about my current concerns and transactions, but simply to craft a narrative of some incident that made me familiar with my situation.

Back one night, somewhat later than usual, to my own home, my attention was drawn, just as I entered the terrace, by the figure of a man leaning against the wall a few steps away. My vision was imperfectly aided by distant lights; but the posture in which he sat, the clock, and the place, immediately suggested the idea of someone being disabled by illness. It is clear to conclude that his illness is a pestilence. This did not deter me from approaching and examining him more closely.

He leaned his head against the wall; his eyes were closed, his hands clasped together, and his body seemed to be propped up in an upright position only by the basement door where he placed his left shoulder. The sluggishness in which she drowned seemed to be almost unperturbed by my feelings on her hands and forehead. His throbbing temples and burning skin signified fever, and his form, which was already thin, seemed to prove that it did not last a short time.

There was only one circumstance that prevented me from immediately determining in what way this person should be treated. My family consists of a wife and a child. Our aides had been arrested, three days earlier, by a powerful illness, and, at his own request, had been taken to the hospital. We ourselves enjoy good health, and hope to escape with our lives. Our steps for this purpose have been carefully taken and carefully adhered to. They do not consist of avoiding containers of infection, as my office requires me to go every day into their midst; nor does it fill the house with puffs of gunpowder, vinegar, or tar. They consist of cleanliness, reasonable exercise, and a healthy diet. The custom has also blunted the edge of our fear. To bring this person into my home, and give him the necessary presence, was the scheme that first occurred to me. In this case, however, my wife's advice is to set me up.

I mentioned the incident to him. I pointed out the danger to be feared from such inmates. I want him to decide carefully, and mention my resolution to conform implicitly to his decision. If we refuse to house him, we must not forget that there is a hospital he may agree to take, and where he will be accommodated in the best possible manner in time.

"No," he said, "don't talk about the hospital. At least let him choose for himself. I am not afraid of me, for my part, in cases where the order of duty is so clear. Let us take the poor, wretched poor into our protection and care, and leave the consequences to Heaven."

I am looking forward and happy with this proposal. I went back to the sick man, and, upon waking him from his stupor, it turned out that he still had his senses. With the candle nearby, I had a chance to see it more accurately.

Her clothes were plain, careless, and showed rudeness. The aspect was simple and ingenious, and her rotting face still retained a trace of an unusual but human-like beauty. He had all of his youthful looks, pure by luxury and unaccustomed to misfortune. I almost never saw such a powerful object and suddenly claimed my affection and help.

At this address he directed his lethargic eyes towards me. "What would you have?" said. "I'm very good as I am. While I breathe, which won't take long, I will breathe more freely here than anywhere else. Leave me alone, I'm very healthy."

“No,” I said, “this situation is not suitable for sick people. I'm just asking you to come to my house, and receive all the goodness that is in our power to give. Gather courage, and I will answer for your recovery, provided you submit to the directives, and do as we wish. Get up, and come with me. We'll find you a doctor and a nurse, and what we're asking for in return is good zeal and obedience."

"Do you not know" he replied, "what is my illness? Why should you risk your salvation for someone whose kindness cannot be beneficial, and who has nothing in return?"

There is something in this commenting style that increases my prejudice against it, and makes me pursue my goals more passionately. "Let us try what we can do for you" I replied. "If we save your life, we'll do something for you, and in return, we'll see it."

With great difficulty he was persuaded to accept our invitation. She was taken to a room, and, because her critical case required unusual attention, I spent the night by her bedside.

My wife is burdened with baby care and her family. The charming baby was in perfect health, but his mother's condition was weak and fragile. We simplify household tasks as much as possible, but still these tasks are very burdensome for people who are not used to the show, and are fancy educated. The addition of the sick person will likely result in a lot of fatigue. My engagement did not allow me to always be at home, and the circumstances of my patients, and the treatment required to be prescribed, were accompanied by many dangerous and disgusting circumstances. My wealth did not allow me to hire help. My wife, with a weak frame and shrinking mind, on an ordinary occasion, from such an office, with careful rigor, would be the sole or primary nurse.

My neighbors are very passionate in their good intentions, and loud in their protests over the carelessness and haste of my behavior. They called me presumptuous and cruel in exposing my wife and child, as well as myself, to imminent danger, for the sake of one, too, which was most likely worthless, he said, and whose disease must have spread, by neglect or ill-treatment, was rendered incurable.