david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第151节
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couldn’t myself。’
‘Do you suppose;’ said I; constraining myself to be very
temperate and quiet with him; on account of Agnes; ‘that I regard
Miss Wickfield otherwise than as a very dear sister?’
‘Well; Master Copperfield;’ he replied; ‘you perceive I am not
bound to answer that question。 You may not; you know。 But then;
you see; you may!’
Anything to equal the low cunning of his visage; and of his
shadowless eyes without the ghost of an eyelash; I never saw。
‘Come then!’ said I。 ‘For the sake of Miss Wickfield—’
‘My Agnes!’ he exclaimed; with a sickly; angular contortion of
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David Copperfield
himself。 ‘Would you be so good as call her Agnes; Master
Copperfield!’
‘For the sake of Agnes Wickfield—Heaven bless her!’
‘Thank you for that blessing; Master Copperfield!’ he
interposed。
‘I will tell you what I should; under any other circumstances; as
soon have thought of telling to—Jack Ketch。’
‘To who; sir?’ said Uriah; stretching out his neck; and shading
his ear with his hand。
‘To the hangman;’ I returned。 ‘The most unlikely person I could
think of;’—though his own face had suggested the allusion quite as
a natural sequence。 ‘I am engaged to another young lady。 I hope
that contents you。’
‘Upon your soul?’ said Uriah。
I was about indignantly to give my assertion the confirmation
he required; when he caught hold of my hand; and gave it a
squeeze。
‘Oh; Master Copperfield!’ he said。 ‘If you had only had the
condescension to return my confidence when I poured out the
fulness of my art; the night I put you so much out of the way by
sleeping before your sitting…room fire; I never should have
doubted you。 As it is; I’m sure I’ll take off mother directly; and only
too appy。 I know you’ll excuse the precautions of affection; won’t
you? What a pity; Master Copperfield; that you didn’t condescend
to return my confidence! I’m sure I gave you every opportunity。
But you never have condescended to me; as much as I could have
wished。 I know you have never liked me; as I have liked you!’
All this time he was squeezing my hand with his damp fishy
fingers; while I made every effort I decently could to get it away。
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David Copperfield
But I was quite unsuccessful。 He drew it under the sleeve of his
mulberry…coloured great…coat; and I walked on; almost upon
compulsion; arm…in…arm with him。
‘Shall we turn?’ said Uriah; by and by wheeling me face about
towards the town; on which the early moon was now shining;
silvering the distant windows。
‘Before we leave the subject; you ought to understand;’ said I;
breaking a pretty long silence; ‘that I believe Agnes Wickfield to be
as far above you; and as far removed from all your aspirations; as
that moon herself!’
‘Peaceful! Ain’t she!’ said Uriah。 ‘Very! Now confess; Master
Copperfield; that you haven’t liked me quite as I have liked you。
All along you’ve thought me too umble now; I shouldn’t wonder?’
‘I am not fond of professions of humility;’ I returned; ‘or
professions of anything else。’
‘There now!’ said Uriah; looking flabby and lead…coloured in the
moonlight。 ‘Didn’t I know it! But how little you think of the
rightful umbleness of a person in my station; Master Copperfield!
Father and me was both brought up at a foundation school for
boys; and mother; she was likewise brought up at a public; sort of
charitable; establishment。 They taught us all a deal of
umbleness—not much else that I know of; from morning to night。
We was to be umble to this person; and umble to that; and to pull
off our caps here; and to make bows there; and always to know our
place; and abase ourselves before our betters。 And we had such a
lot of betters! Father got the monitor…medal by being umble。 So
did I。 Father got made a sexton by being umble。 He had the
character; among the gentlefolks; of being such a well…behaved
man; that they were determined to bring him in。 “Be umble;
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Uriah;” says father to me; “and you’ll get on。 It was what was
always being dinned into you and me at school; it’s what goes
down best。 Be umble;” says father;” and you’ll do!” And really it
ain’t done bad!’
It was the first time it had ever occurred to me; that this
detestable cant of false humility might have originated out of the
Heep family。 I had seen the harvest; but had never thought of the
seed。
‘When I was quite a young boy;’ said Uriah; ‘I got to know what
umbleness did; and I took to it。 I ate umble pie with an appetite。 I
stopped at the umble point of my learning; and says I; “Hold
hard!” When you offered to teach me Latin; I knew better。 “People
like to be above you;” says father; “keep yourself down。” I am very
umble to the present moment; Master Copperfield; but I’ve got a
little power!’
And he said all this—I knew; as I saw his face in the
moonlight—that I might understand he was resolved to
recompense himself by using his power。 I had never doubted his
meanness; his craft and malice; but I fully comprehended now; for
the first time; what a base; unrelenting; and revengeful spirit; must
have been engendered by this early; and this long; suppression。
His account of himself was so far attended with an agreeable
result; that it led to his withdrawing his hand in order that he
might have another hug of himself under the chin。 Once apart
from him; I was determined to keep apart; and we walked back;
side by side; saying very little more by the way。 Whether his spirits
were elevated by the communication I had made to him; or by his
having indulged in this retrospect; I don’t know; but they were
raised by some influence。 He talked more at dinner than was usual
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David Copperfield
with him; asked his mother (off duty; from the moment of our reentering the house) whether he was not growing too old for a
bachelor; and once looked at Agnes so; that I would have given all
I had; for leave to knock him down。
When we three males were left alone after dinner; he got into a
more adventurous state。 He had taken little or no wine; and I
presume it was the mere insolence of triumph that was upon him;
flushed perhaps by the temptation my presence furnished to its
exhibition。
I had observed yesterday; that he tried to entice Mr。 Wickfield
to drink; and; interpreting the look which Agnes had given me as
she went out; had limited myself to one glass; and then proposed
that we should follow her。 I would have done so again today; but
Uriah was too quick for me。
‘We seldom see our present visitor; sir;’ he said; addressing Mr。
Wickfield; sitting; such a contrast to him; at the end of the table;
‘and I should propose to give him welcome in another glass or two
of wine; if you have no objections。 Mr。 Copperfield; your elth and
appiness!’
I was obliged to make a show of taking the hand he stretched
across to me; and then; with very different emotions; I took the
hand of the broken gentleman; his partner。
‘Come; fellow…partner;’ said Uriah; ‘if I may take the liberty;—
now; suppose you give us something or another appropriate to
Copperfield!’
I pass over Mr。 Wickfield’s proposing my aunt; his proposing
Mr。 Dick; his proposing Doctors’ Commons; his proposing Uriah;
his drinking everything twice; his consciousness of his own
weakness; the ineffectual effort that he made against it; the
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David Copperfield
struggle between his shame in Uriah’s deportment; and his desire
to conciliate him; the manifest exultation with which Uriah twisted
and turned; and held him up before me。 It made me sick at heart
to see; and my hand recoils from writing it。
‘Come; fellow…partner!’ said Uriah; at last; ‘I’ll give you another
one; and I umbly ask for bumpers; seeing I intend to make it the
divinest of her sex。’
Her father had his empty glass in his hand。 I saw him set it
down; look at the picture she was so like; put his hand to his
forehead; and shrink back in his elbow…chair。
‘I’m an umble individual to give you her elth;’ proceeded Uriah;
‘but I admire—adore her。’
No physical pain that her father’s grey head could have borne; I
think; could have been more terrible to me; than the mental
endurance I saw compressed now within both his hands。
‘Agnes;’ said Uriah; either not regarding him; or not knowing
what the nature of his action was; ‘Agnes Wickfield is; I am safe to
say; the divinest of her sex。 May I speak out; among friends? To be
her father is a proud distinction; but to be her usband—’
Spare me from ever again hearing such a cry; as that with
which her father rose up from the table! ‘What’s the matter?’ said
Uriah; turning of a deadly colour。 ‘You are not gone mad; after all;
Mr。 Wickfield; I hope? If I say I’ve an ambition to make your
Agnes my Agnes; I have as go