- description
- # Narrator's Attempt to Persuade Bartleby
## Overview
This section, titled "Narrator's Attempt to Persuade Bartleby," is an extracted portion of text from the chapter [Bartleby](arke:01KG8AJK1PKEBJJCANV911N8JS). It spans lines 1898 to 1984 of its source file.
## Context
This section is part of the larger [Melville Complete Works](arke:01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW) collection. It was extracted from the plain text file [the_piazza_tales.txt](arke:01KG89J1F4D8P9BBX9AMGZ7TX7). Preceded by [Bartleby's Continued Presence and Consequences](arke:01KG8AK4196PCDZ2AG6ZRPHRVV), this section details the narrator's escalating efforts to deal with Bartleby's refusal to leave the premises. It is followed by the section [Bartleby's arrest and imprisonment](arke:01KG8AK4195N29EGMN0JHCTP0N).
## Contents
The content describes the narrator's increasingly desperate attempts to persuade Bartleby to leave the office premises after his dismissal. The narrator confronts Bartleby, who is found sitting on the banister, and tries to reason with him, offering various alternative employments such as a clerkship in a dry-goods store, a bar-tender's business, a bill collector, or a companion for travel to Europe. Bartleby consistently responds with variations of "I would prefer not to," frustrating the narrator to the point of losing his temper. The section concludes with the narrator's final, failed attempt to invite Bartleby to his home and his subsequent flight from the building to escape the situation and the demands of the landlord and tenants.
- description_generated_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:55.778Z
- description_model
- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
- description_title
- Narrator's Attempt to Persuade Bartleby
- end_line
- 1984
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:47:52.603Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1898
- text
- Going up stairs to my old haunt, there was Bartleby silently sitting
upon the banister at the landing.
“What are you doing here, Bartleby?” said I.
“Sitting upon the banister,” he mildly replied.
I motioned him into the lawyer’s room, who then left us.
“Bartleby” said I, “are you aware that you are the cause of great
tribulation to me, by persisting in occupying the entry after being
dismissed from the office?”
No answer.
“Now one of two things must take place. Either you must do something,
or something must be done to you. Now what sort of business would you
like to engage in? Would you like to re-engage in copying for some
one?”
“No; I would prefer not to make any change.”
“Would you like a clerkship in a dry-goods store?”
“There is too much confinement about that. No, I would not like a
clerkship; but I am not particular.”
“Too much confinement,” I cried, “why you keep yourself confined all
the time!”
“I would prefer not to take a clerkship,” he rejoined, as if to settle
that little item at once.
“How would a bar-tender’s business suit you? There is no trying of the
eye-sight in that.”
“I would not like it at all; though, as I said before, I am not
particular.”
His unwonted wordiness inspirited me. I returned to the charge.
“Well, then, would you like to travel through the country collecting
bills for the merchants? That would improve your health.”
“No, I would prefer to be doing something else.”
“How, then, would going as a companion to Europe, to entertain some
young gentleman with your conversation—how would that suit you?”
“Not at all. It does not strike me that there is anything definite
about that. I like to be stationary. But I am not particular.”
“Stationary you shall be, then,” I cried, now losing all patience, and,
for the first time in all my exasperating connection with him, fairly
flying into a passion. “If you do not go away from these premises
before night, I shall feel bound—indeed, I _am_ bound—to—to—to quit the
premises myself!” I rather absurdly concluded, knowing not with what
possible threat to try to frighten his immobility into compliance.
Despairing of all further efforts, I was precipitately leaving him,
when a final thought occurred to me—one which had not been wholly
unindulged before.
“Bartleby,” said I, in the kindest tone I could assume under such
exciting circumstances, “will you go home with me now—not to my office,
but my dwelling—and remain there till we can conclude upon some
convenient arrangement for you at our leisure? Come, let us start now,
right away.”
“No: at present I would prefer not to make any change at all.”
I answered nothing; but, effectually dodging every one by the
suddenness and rapidity of my flight, rushed from the building, ran up
Wall street towards Broadway, and, jumping into the first omnibus, was
soon removed from pursuit. As soon as tranquillity returned, I
distinctly perceived that I had now done all that I possibly could,
both in respect to the demands of the landlord and his tenants, and
with regard to my own desire and sense of duty, to benefit Bartleby,
and shield him from rude persecution, I now strove to be entirely
care-free and quiescent; and my conscience justified me in the attempt;
though, indeed, it was not so successful as I could have wished. So
fearful was I of being again hunted out by the incensed landlord and
his exasperated tenants, that, surrendering my business to Nippers, for
a few days, I drove about the upper part of the town and through the
suburbs, in my rockaway; crossed over to Jersey City and Hoboken, and
paid fugitive visits to Manhattanville and Astoria. In fact, I almost
lived in my rockaway for the time.
- title
- Narrator's Attempt to Persuade Bartleby