bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第2节
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with flakes of soot in it as big as full…grown snowflakes—gone into
mourning; one might imagine; for the death of the sun。 Dogs;
indistinguishable in mire。 Horses; scarcely better; splashed to
their very blinkers。 Foot…passengers; jostling one another’s
umbrellas; in a general infection of ill…temper; and losing their
foothold at street…corners; where tens of thousands of other foot…
passengers have been slipping and sliding since the day broke (if
this day ever broke); adding new deposits to the crust upon crust
of mud; sticking at those points tenaciously to the pavement; and
accumulating at compound interest。
Fog everywhere。 Fog up the river; where it flows among green
aits and meadows; fog down the river; where it rolls defiled among
the tiers of shipping; and the waterside pollutions of a great (and
dirty) city。 Fog on the Essex marshes; fog on the Kentish heights。
Fog creeping into the cabooses of collier…brigs; fog lying out on the
yards; and hovering in the rigging of great ships; fog drooping on
the gunwales of barges and small boats。 Fog in the eyes and
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throats of ancient Greenwich pensioners; wheezing by the
firesides of their wards; fog in the stem and bowl of the afternoon
pipe of the wrathful skipper; down in his close cabin; fog cruelly
pinching the toes and fingers of his shivering little ’prentice boy on
deck。 Chance people on the bridges peeping over the parapets into
a nether sky of fog; with fog all round them; as if they were up in a
balloon; and hanging in the misty clouds。
Gas looming through the fog in divers places in the streets;
much as the sun may; from the spongy fields; be seen to loom by
husbandman and ploughboy。 Most of the shops lighted two hours
before their time—as the gas seems to know; for it has a haggard
and unwilling look。
The raw afternoon is rawest; and the dense fog is densest; and
the muddy streets are muddiest; near that leaden…headed old
obstruction; appropriate ornament for the threshold of a leaden…
headed old corporation: Temple Bar。 And hard by Temple Bar; in
Lincoln’s Inn Hall; at the very heart of the fog; sits the Lord High
Chancellor in his High Court of Chancery。
Never can there come fog too thick; never can there come mud
and mire too deep; to assort with the groping and floundering
condition which this High Court of Chancery; most pestilent of
hoary sinners; holds; this day; in the sight of heaven and earth。
On such an afternoon; if ever; the Lord High Chancellor ought
to be sitting here—as here he is—with a foggy glory round his
head; softly fenced in with crimson cloth and curtains; addressed
by a large advocate with great whiskers; a little voice; and an
interminable brief; and outwardly directing his contemplation to
the lantern in the roof; where he can see nothing but fog。 On such
an afternoon; some score of members of the High Court of
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Chancery Bar ought to be—as here they are—mistily engaged in
one of the ten thousand stages of an endless cause; tripping one
another up on slippery precedents; groping knee…deep in
technicalities; running their goat…hair and horse…hair warded
heads against walls of words; and making a pretence of equity
with serious faces; as players might。 On such an afternoon; the
various solicitors in the cause; some two or three of whom have
inherited it from their fathers who made a fortune by it; ought to
be—as are they not?—ranged in a line; in a long matted well (but
you might look in vain for Truth at the bottom of it); between the
registrar’s red table and the silk gowns; with bills; cross…bills;
answers; rejoinders; injunctions; affidavits; issues; references to
masters; masters’ reports; mountains of costly nonsense; piled
before them。 Well may the court be dim; with wasting candles here
and there; well may the fog hang heavy in it; as if it would never
get out; well may the stained glass windows lose their colour; and
admit no light of day into the place; well may the uninitiated from
the streets; who peep in through the glass panes in the door; be
deterred from entrance by its owlish aspect; and by the drawl
languidly echoing to the roof from the padded dais where the Lord
High Chancellor looks into the lantern that has no light in it; and
where the attendant wigs are all stuck in a fog…bank! This is the
Court of Chancery; which has its decaying houses and its blighted
lands in every shire; which has its worn…out lunatic in every
madhouse; and its dead in every churchyard; which has its ruined
suitor; with his slipshod heels and threadbare dress; borrowing
and begging through the round of every man’s acquaintance;
which gives to monied might; the means abundantly of wearying
out the right; which so exhausts finances; patience; courage; hope;
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so overthrows the brain and breaks the heart; that there is not an
honourable man among its practitioners who would not give—who
does not often give—the warning; “Suffer any wrong that can be
done you; rather than come here!”
Who happen to be in the Lord Chancellor’s court this murky
afternoon besides the Lord Chancellor; the counsel in the cause;
two or three counsel who are never in any cause; and the well of
solicitors before mentioned? There is the registrar below the
Judge; in wig and gown; and there are two or three maces; or
petty…bags; or privy purses; or whatever they may be; in legal court
suits。 These are all yawning; for no crumb of amusement ever falls
from JARNDYCE AND JARNDYCE (the cause in hand) which
was squeezed dry years upon years ago。 The short…hand writers;
the reporters of the court; and the reporters of the newspapers;
invariably decamp with the rest of the regulars when Jarndyce
and Jarndyce comes on。 Their places are a blank。 Standing on a
seat at the side of the hall; the better to peer into the curtained
sanctuary; is a little mad old woman in a squeezed bonnet; who is
always in court; from its sitting to its rising; and always expecting
some incomprehensible judgement to be given in her favour。
Some say she really is; or was; a party to a suit; but no one knows
for certain; because no one cares。 She carries some small litter in
her reticule which she calls her documents principally consisting
of paper matches and dry lavender。 A sallow prisoner has come
up; in custody; for the half…dozenth time; to make a personal
application “to purge himself of his contempt;” which; being a
solitary surviving executor who has fallen into a state of
conglomeration about accounts of which it is not pretended that
he had ever any knowledge; he is not at all likely ever to do。 In the
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meantime his prospects in life are ended。 Another ruined suitor;
who periodically appears from Shropshire; and breaks out into
efforts to address the Chancellor at the close of the day’s business;
and who can by no means be made to understand that the
Chancellor is legally ignorant of his existence after making it
desolate for a quarter of a century; plants himse