david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第16节
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having made a Mulatto of myself by getting the dirt of the slate
into the pores of my skin； I have a slice of bread to help me out
with the cheeses； and am considered in disgrace for the rest of the
evening。
It seems to me； at this distance of time； as if my unfortunate
studies generally took this course。 I could have done very well if I
had been without the Murdstones； but the influence of the
Murdstones upon me was like the fascination of two snakes on a
wretched young bird。 Even when I did get through the morning
with tolerable credit； there was not much gained but dinner； for
Miss Murdstone never could endure to see me untasked； and if I
rashly made any show of being unemployed； called her brother’s
attention to me by saying； ‘Clara； my dear； there’s nothing like
work—give your boy an exercise’； which caused me to be clapped
down to some new labour； there and then。 As to any recreation
with other children of my age； I had very little of that； for the
gloomy theology of the Murdstones made all children out to be a
swarm of little vipers （though there was a child once set in the
midst of the Disciples）； and held that they contaminated one
another。
The natural result of this treatment； continued； I suppose； for
some six months or more； was to make me sullen； dull； and
dogged。 I was not made the less so by my sense of being daily
more and more shut out and alienated from my mother。 I believe I
should have been almost stupefied but for one circumstance。
It was this。 My father had left a small collection of books in a
little room upstairs； to which I had access （for it adjoined my own）
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
and which nobody else in our house ever troubled。 From that
blessed little room； Roderick Random； Peregrine Pickle；
Humphrey Clinker； Tom Jones； the Vicar of Wakefield； Don
Quixote； Gil Blas； and Robinson Crusoe； came out； a glorious host；
to keep me company。 They kept alive my fancy； and my hope of
something beyond that place and time；—they； and the Arabian
Nights； and the Tales of the Genii；—and did me no harm； for
whatever harm was in some of them was not there for me； I knew
nothing of it。 It is astonishing to me now； how I found time； in the
midst of my porings and blunderings over heavier themes； to read
those books as I did。 It is curious to me how I could ever have
consoled myself under my small troubles （which were great
troubles to me）； by impersonating my favourite characters in
them—as I did—and by putting Mr。 and Miss Murdstone into all
the bad ones—which I did too。 I have been Tom Jones （a child’s
Tom Jones； a harmless creature） for a week together。 I have
sustained my own idea of Roderick Random for a month at a
stretch； I verily believe。 I had a greedy relish for a few volumes of
Voyages and Travels—I forget what； now—that were on those
shelves； and for days and days I can remember to have gone about
my region of our house； armed with the centre…piece out of an old
set of boot…trees—the perfect realization of Captain Somebody； of
the Royal British Navy； in danger of being beset by savages； and
resolved to sell his life at a great price。 The Captain never lost
dignity； from having his ears boxed with the Latin Grammar。 I did；
but the Captain was a Captain and a hero； in despite of all the
grammars of all the languages in the world； dead or alive。
This was my only and my constant comfort。 When I think of it；
the picture always rises in my mind； of a summer evening； the
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
boys at play in the churchyard； and I sitting on my bed； reading as
if for life。 Every barn in the neighbourhood； every stone in the
church； and every foot of the churchyard； had some association of
its own； in my mind； connected with these books； and stood for
some locality made famous in them。 I have seen Tom Pipes go
climbing up the church…steeple； I have watched Strap； with the
knapsack on his back； stopping to rest himself upon the wicket…
gate； and I know that Commodore Trunnion held that club with
Mr。 Pickle； in the parlour of our little village alehouse。
The reader now understands； as well as I do； what I was when I
came to that point of my youthful history to which I am now
coming again。
One morning when I went into the parlour with my books； I
found my mother looking anxious； Miss Murdstone looking firm；
and Mr。 Murdstone binding something round the bottom of a
cane—a lithe and limber cane； which he left off binding when I
came in； and poised and switched in the air。
‘I tell you； Clara；’ said Mr。 Murdstone； ‘I have been often
flogged myself。’
‘To be sure； of course；’ said Miss Murdstone。
‘Certainly； my dear Jane；’ faltered my mother； meekly。 ‘But—
but do you think it did Edward good？’
‘Do you think it did Edward harm； Clara？’ asked Mr。
Murdstone； gravely。
‘That’s the point；’ said his sister。
To this my mother returned； ‘Certainly； my dear Jane；’ and said
no more。
I felt apprehensive that I was personally interested in this
dialogue； and sought Mr。 Murdstone’s eye as it lighted on mine。
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
‘Now； David；’ he said—and I saw that cast again as he said it—
‘you must be far more careful today than usual。’ He gave the cane
another poise； and another switch； and having finished his
preparation of it； laid it down beside him； with an impressive look；
and took up his book。
This was a good freshener to my presence of mind； as a
beginning。 I felt the words of my lessons slipping off； not one by
one； or line by line； but by the entire page； I tried to lay hold of
them； but they seemed； if I may so express it； to have put skates
on； and to skim away from me with a smoothness there was no
checking。
We began badly； and went on worse。 I had come in with an idea
of distinguishing myself rather； conceiving that I was very well
prepared； but it turned out to be quite a mistake。 Book after book
was added to the heap of failures； Miss Murdstone being firmly
watchful of us all the time。 And when we came at last to the five
thousand cheeses （canes he made it that day； I remember）； my
mother burst out crying。
‘Clara！’ said Miss Murdstone； in her warning voice。
‘I am not quite well； my dear Jane； I think；’ said my mother。
I saw him wink； solemnly； at his sister； as he rose and said；
taking up the cane：
‘Why； Jane； we can hardly expect Clara to bear； with perfect
firmness； the worry and torment that David has occasioned her
today。 That would be stoical。 Clara is greatly strengthened and
improved； but we can hardly expect so much from her。 David； you
and I will go upstairs； boy。’
As he took me out at the door； my mother ran towards us。 Miss
Murdstone said； ‘Clara！ are you a perfect fool？’ and interfered。 I
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
saw my mother stop her ears then； and I heard her crying。
He walked me up to my room slowly and gravely—I am certain
he had a delight in that formal parade of executing justice—and
when we got there； suddenly twisted my head under his arm。
‘Mr。 Murdstone！ Sir！’ I cried to him。 ‘Don’t！ Pray don’t beat me！
I have tried to learn； sir； but I can’t learn while you and Miss
Murdstone are by。 I can’t indeed！’
‘Can’t you； indeed； David？’ he said。 ‘We’ll try that。’
He had my head as in a vice； but I twined round him somehow；
and stopped him for a moment； entreating him not to beat me。 It
was only a moment that I stopped him； for he cut me heavily an
instant afterwards； and in the same instant I caught the hand with
which he held me in my mouth； between my teeth； and bit it
through。 It sets my teeth on edge to think of it。
He beat me then； as if he would have beaten me to death。 Above
all the noise we made； I heard them running up the stairs； and
crying out—I heard my mother crying out—and Peggotty。 Then he
was gone； and the door was locked outside； and I was lying；
fevered and hot； and torn； and sore； and raging in my puny way；
upon the floor。
How well I recollect； when I became quiet； what an unnatural
stillness seemed to reign through the whole house！ How well I
remember； when my smart and passion began to cool； how wicked
I began to feel！
I sat listening for a long while； but there was not a sound。 I
crawled up from the floor； and saw my face in the glass； so
swollen； red； and ugly that it almost frightened me。 My stripes
were sore and stiff； and made me cry afresh； when I moved； but
they were nothing to the guilt I felt。 It lay heavier on my breast
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
than if I had been a most atrocious criminal； I dare say。
It had begun to grow dark； and I had shut the window （I had
been lying； for the most part； with my head upon the sill； by turns
crying； dozing； and looking listlessly out）； when the key was
turned； and Miss Murdstone came in with some bread and meat；
and milk。 These she put do
