great accuracy was imperative. Having all things arranged I
called Turkey, Nippers and Ginger Nut from the next room, meaning to
place the four copies in the hands of my four clerks, while I should
read from the original. Accordingly Turkey, Nippers and Ginger Nut had
taken their seats in a row, each with his document in hand, when I
called to Bartleby to join this interesting group.

"Bartleby! quick, I am waiting."

I heard a slow scrape of his chair legs on the uncarpeted floor, and
soon he appeared standing at the entrance of his hermitage.

"What is wanted?" said he mildly.

"The copies, the copies," said I hurriedly. "We are going to examine
them. There"--and I held towards him the fourth quadruplicate.

"I would prefer not to," he said, and gently disappeared behind the
screen.

For a few moments I was turned into a pillar of salt, standing at the
head of my seated column of clerks. Recovering myself, I advanced
towards the screen, and demanded the reason for such extraordinary
conduct.

"_Why_ do you refuse?"

"I would prefer not to."

With any other man I should have flown outright into a dreadful passion,
scorned all further words, and thrust him ignominiously from my
presence. But there was something about Bartleby that not only
strangely disarmed me, but in a wonderful manner touched and
disconcerted me. I began to reason with him.

"These are your own copies we are about to examine. It is labor saving
to you, because one examination will answer for your four papers. It is
common usage. Every copyist is bound to help examine his copy. Is it
not so? Will you not speak? Answer!"

"I prefer not to," he replied in a flute-like tone. It seemed to me
that while I had been addressing him, he carefully revolved every
statement that I made; fully comprehended the meaning; could not gainsay
the irresistible conclusions; but, at the same time, some paramount
consideration prevailed with him to reply as he did.

"You are decided, then, not to comply with my request--a request made
according to common usage and common sense?"

He briefly gave me to understand that on that point my judgment was
sound. Yes: his decision was irreversible.

It is not seldom the case that when a man is browbeaten in some
unprecedented and violently unreasonable way, he begins to stagger in
his own plainest faith. He begins, as it were, vaguely to surmise that,
wonderful as it may be, all the justice and all