david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第90节

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went　to　Martha。　What　she　gave　her；　I　don’t　know。　I　saw　her　
stooping　over　her；　and　putting　money　in　her　bosom。　She　
whispered　something；　as　she　asked　was　that　enough？　‘More　than　
enough；’　the　other　said；　and　took　her　hand　and　kissed　it。　

Then　Martha　arose；　and　gathering　her　shawl　about　her；　
covering　her　face　with　it；　and　weeping　aloud；　went　slowly　to　the　
door。　She　stopped　a　moment　before　going　out；　as　if　she　would　have　
uttered　something　or　turned　back；　but　no　word　passed　her　lips。　
Making　the　same　low；　dreary；　wretched　moaning　in　her　shawl；　she　
went　away。　

As　the　door　closed；　little　Em’ly　looked　at　us　three　in　a　hurried　
manner　and　then　hid　her　face　in　her　hands；　and　fell　to　sobbing。　

‘Doen’t；　Em’ly！’　said　Ham；　tapping　her　gently　on　the　shoulder。　
‘Doen’t；　my　dear！　You　doen’t　ought　to　cry　so；　pretty！’　

‘Oh；　Ham！’　she　exclaimed；　still　weeping　pitifully；　‘I　am　not　so　
good　a　girl　as　I　ought　to　be！　I　know　I　have　not　the　thankful　heart；　

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sometimes；　I　ought　to　have！’　

‘Yes；　yes；　you　have；　I’m　sure；’　said　Ham。　

‘No！　no！　no！’　cried　little　Em’ly；　sobbing；　and　shaking　her　head。　‘I　
am　not　as　good　a　girl　as　I　ought　to　be。　Not　near！　not　near！’　And　still　
she　cried；　as　if　her　heart　would　break。　

‘I　try　your　love　too　much。　I　know　I　do！’　she　sobbed。　‘I’m　often　
cross　to　you；　and　changeable　with　you；　when　I　ought　to　be　far　
different。　You　are　never　so　to　me。　Why　am　I　ever　so　to　you；　when　I　
should　think　of　nothing　but　how　to　be　grateful；　and　to　make　you　
happy！’　

‘You　always　make　me　so；’　said　Ham；　‘my　dear！　I　am　happy　in　
the　sight　of　you。　I　am　happy；　all　day　long；　in　the　thoughts　of　you。’　

‘Ah！　that’s　not　enough！’　she　cried。　‘That　is　because　you　are　
good；　not　because　I　am！　Oh；　my　dear；　it　might　have　been　a　better　
fortune　for　you；　if　you　had　been　fond　of　someone　else—of　someone　
steadier　and　much　worthier　than　me；　who　was　all　bound　up　in　
you；　and　never　vain　and　changeable　like　me！’　

‘Poor　little　tender…heart；’　said　Ham；　in　a　low　voice。　‘Martha　has　
overset　her；　altogether。’　

‘Please；　aunt；’　sobbed　Em’ly；　‘come　here；　and　let　me　lay　my　
head　upon　you。　Oh；　I　am　very　miserable　tonight；　aunt！　Oh；　I　am　
not　as　good　a　girl　as　I　ought　to　be。　I　am　not；　I　know！’　

Peggotty　had　hastened　to　the　chair　before　the　fire。　Em’ly；　with　
her　arms　around　her　neck；　kneeled　by　her；　looking　up　most　
earnestly　into　her　face。　

‘Oh；　pray；　aunt；　try　to　help　me！　Ham；　dear；　try　to　help　me！　Mr。　
David；　for　the　sake　of　old　times；　do；　please；　try　to　help　me！　I　want　
to　be　a　better　girl　than　I　am。　I　want　to　feel　a　hundred　times　more　
thankful　than　I　do。　I　want　to　feel　more；　what　a　blessed　thing　it　is　to　

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be　the　wife　of　a　good　man；　and　to　lead　a　peaceful　life。　Oh　me；　oh　
me！　Oh　my　heart；　my　heart！’　

She　dropped　her　face　on　my　old　nurse’s　breast；　and；　ceasing　
this　supplication；　which　in　its　agony　and　grief　was　half　a　woman’s；　
half　a　child’s；　as　all　her　manner　was　（being；　in　that；　more　natural；　
and　better　suited　to　her　beauty；　as　I　thought；　than　any　other　
manner　could　have　been）；　wept　silently；　while　my　old　nurse　
hushed　her　like　an　infant。　

She　got　calmer　by　degrees；　and　then　we　soothed　her；　now　
talking　encouragingly；　and　now　jesting　a　little　with　her；　until　she　
began　to　raise　her　head　and　speak　to　us。　So　we　got　on；　until　she　
was　able　to　smile；　and　then　to　laugh；　and　then　to　sit　up；　half　
ashamed；　while　Peggotty　recalled　her　stray　ringlets；　dried　her　
eyes；　and　made　her　neat　again；　lest　her　uncle　should　wonder；　
when　she　got　home；　why　his　darling　had　been　crying。　

I　saw　her　do；　that　night；　what　I　had　never　seen　her　do　before。　I　
saw　her　innocently　kiss　her　chosen　husband　on　the　cheek；　and　
creep　close　to　his　bluff　form　as　if　it　were　her　best　support。　When　
they　went　away　together；　in　the　waning　moonlight；　and　I　looked　
after　them；　comparing　their　departure　in　my　mind　with　Martha’s；　I　
saw　that　she　held　his　arm　with　both　her　hands；　and　still　kept　close　
to　him。　

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Chapter　23　

I　CORROBORATE　MR。　DICK；　AND　CHOOSE　A　
PROFESSION　

When　I　awoke　in　the　morning　I　thought　very　much　of　little　
Em’ly；　and　her　emotion　last　night；　after　Martha　had　left。　I　felt　as　if　
I　had　come　into　the　knowledge　of　those　domestic　weaknesses　and　
tendernesses　in　a　sacred　confidence；　and　that　to　disclose　them；　
even　to　Steerforth；　would　be　wrong。　I　had　no　gentler　feeling　
towards　anyone　than　towards　the　pretty　creature　who　had　been　
my　playmate；　and　whom　I　have　always　been　persuaded；　and　shall　
always　be　persuaded；　to　my　dying　day；　I　then　devotedly　loved。　The　
repetition　to　any　ears—even　to　Steerforth’s—of　what　she　had　been　
unable　to　repress　when　her　heart　lay　open　to　me　by　an　accident；　I　
felt　would　be　a　rough　deed；　unworthy　of　myself；　unworthy　of　the　
light　of　our　pure　childhood；　which　I　always　saw　encircling　her　
head。　I　made　a　resolution；　therefore；　to　keep　it　in　my　own　breast；　
and　there　it　gave　her　image　a　new　grace。　

While　we　were　at　breakfast；　a　letter　was　delivered　to　me　from　
my　aunt。　As　it　contained　matter　on　which　I　thought　Steerforth　
could　advise　me　as　well　as　anyone；　and　on　which　I　knew　I　should　
be　delighted　to　consult　him；　I　resolved　to　make　it　a　subject　of　
discussion　on　our　journey　home。　For　the　present　we　had　enough　
to　do；　in　taking　leave　of　all　our　friends。　Mr。　Barkis　was　far　from　
being　the　last　among　them；　in　his　regret　at　our　departure；　and　I　
believe　would　even　have　opened　the　box　again；　and　sacrificed　
another　guinea；　if　it　would　have　kept　us　eight…and…forty　hours　in　

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Yarmouth。　Peggotty　and　all　her　family　were　full　of　grief　at　our　
going。　The　whole　house　of　Omer　and　Joram　turned　out　to　bid　us　
good…bye；　and　there　were　so　many　seafaring　volunteers　in　
attendance　on　Steerforth；　when　our　portmanteaux　went　to　the　
coach；　that　if　we　had　had　the　baggage　of　a　regiment　with　us；　we　
should　hardly　have　wanted　porters　to　carry　it。　In　a　word；　we　
departed　to　the　regret　and　admiration　of　all　concerned；　and　left　a　
great　many　people　very　sorry　behind　us。　

Do　you　stay　long　here；　Littimer？’　said　I；　as　he　stood　waiting　to　
see　the　coach　start。　

‘No；　sir；’　he　replied；　‘probably　not　very　long；　sir。’　

‘He　can　hardly　say；　just　now；’　observed　Steerforth；　carelessly。　
‘He　knows　what　he　has　to　do；　and　he’ll　do　it。’　

‘That　I　am　sure　he　will；’　said　I。　

Littimer　touched　his　hat　in　acknowledgement　of　my　good　
opinion；　and　I　felt　about　eight　years　old。　He　touched　it　once　more；　
wishing　us　a　good　journey；　and　we　left　him　standing　on　the　
pavement；　as　respectable　a　mystery　as　any　pyramid　in　Egypt。　

For　some　little　time　we　held　no　conversation；　Steerforth　being　
unusually　silent；　and　I　being　sufficiently　engaged　in　wondering；　
within　myself；　when　I　should　see　the　old　places　again；　and　what　
new　changes　might　happen　to　me　or　them　in　the　meanwhile。　At　
length　Steerforth；　becoming　gay　and　talkative　in　a　moment；　as　he　
could　become　anything　he　liked　at　any　moment；　pulled　me　by　the　
arm：　

‘Find　a　voice；　David。　What　about　that　letter　you　were　speaking　
of　at　breakfast？’　

‘Oh！’　said　I；　taking　it　out　of　my　pocket。　‘It’s　from　my　aunt。’　

‘And　what　does　she　say；　requiring　consideration？’　

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David　Copperfield　

‘Why；　she　reminds　me；　Steerforth；’　said　I；　‘that　I　came　out　on　
this　expedition　to　look　about　me；　and　to　think　a　little。’　

‘Which；　of　course；　you　have　done？’　

‘Indeed　I　can’t　say　I　have；　particularly。　To　tell　you　the　truth；　I　
am　afraid　I　have　forgotten　it。’　

‘Well！　look　about　you　now；　and　make　up　for　your　negligence；’　
said　Steerforth。　‘Look　to　the　right；　and　you’ll　see　a　flat　country；　
with　a　good　deal　of　marsh　in　it；　look　to　the　left；　and　you’ll　see　the　
same。　Look　to　the　front；　and　you’ll　find　no　difference；　look　to　the　
rear；　and　there　it　is　still。’　I　laughed；　and　replied　that　I　saw　no　
suitable　profession　in　the　whole　prospect；　which　was　perhaps　to　be　
attributed　to　its　flatness。　

‘What　says　our　aunt　on　the　subject？’　inquired　Steerforth；　
glancing　at　the　letter　in　my　hand。　‘Does　she　suggest　anything？’　

‘Why；　yes；’　said　I。　‘She　asks　me；　here；　if　I　think　I　should　like　to　
be　a　proctor？　What　do　you　think　of　it？’　

‘Well；　I　don’t　know；’　replied　Steerforth；　coolly。　‘You　may　as　well　
do　that　as　anything　else；　I　suppose？’　

I　could　not　help　laughing　again；　at　his　balancing　all　callings　and　
professions　so　equally；　and　I　told　him　so。　

‘What　is　a　proctor；　Steerforth？’　said　I。　

‘Why；　he　is　a　sort　of　monkish　attorney；’　replied　Steerforth。　‘He　
is；　to　some　faded　courts　held　in　Doctors’　Commons；—a　lazy　old　
nook　near　St。　Paul’s　Churchyard—what　solicitors　are　to　the　courts　
of　law　and　equity。　He　is　a　functionary　whose　existence；　in　the　
natural　course　of　things；　would　have　terminated　about　two　
hundred　years　ago。　I　can　tell　you　best　what　he　is；　by　telling　you　
what　Doctors’　Commons　is。　It’s　a　li