bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第41节
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its master； as if he were no more than another bird。
“But how do you and your neighbour get on about the disputed
right of way？” said Mr Jarndyce。 “You are not free from the toils
of the law yourself？”
“The fellow has brought actions against me for trespass； and I
have brought actions against him for trespass；” returned Mr
Boythorn。 “By Heaven； he is the proudest fellow breathing。 It is
morally impossible that his name can be Sir Leicester。 It must be
Sir Lucifer。”
“Complimentary to our distant relation！” said my Guardian
laughingly； to Ada and Richard。
“I would beg Miss Clare’s pardon and Mr Carstone’s pardon；”
resumed our visitor； “if I were not reassured by seeing in the fair
face of the lady； and the smile of the gentleman； that it is quite
unnecessary； and that they keep their distant relation at a
comfortable distance。”
“Or he keeps us；” suggested Richard。
“By my soul！” exclaimed Mr Boythorn； suddenly firing another
volley； “that fellow is and his father was； and his grandfather was；
the most stiff…necked； arrogant； imbecile； pig…headed； numbskull；
ever； by some inexplicable mistake of Nature； born in any station
of life but a walking…stick’s！ The whole of that family are the most
solemnly conceited and consummate blockheads！—But it’s no
matter； he should not shut up my path if he were fifty baronets
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melted into one； and living in a hundred Chesney Wolds； one
within another； like the ivory balls in a Chinese carving。 The
fellow； by his agent； or secretary； or somebody； writes to me ‘Sir
Leicester Dedlock； Baronet； presents his compliments to Mr
Lawrence Boythorn； and has to call his attention to the fact that
the green pathway by the old parsonage…house； now the property
of Mr Lawrence Boythorn； is Sir Leicester’s right of way。 Being in
fact a portion of the park of Chesney Wold； and that Sir Leicester
finds it convenient to close up the same。’ I write to the fellow； ‘Mr
Lawrence Boythorn presents his compliments to Sir Leicester
Dedlock； Baronet； and has to call his attention to the fact that he
totally denies the whole of Sir Leicester Dedlock’s positions on
every possible subject； and has to add； in reference to closing up
the pathway； that he will be glad to see the man who may
undertake to do it。’ The fellow sends a most abandoned villain
with one eye； to construct a gateway。 I play upon that execrable
scoundrel with a fire…engine； until the breath is nearly driven out
of his body。 The fellow erects a gate in the night。 I chop it down
and burn it in the morning。 He sends his myrmidons to come over
the fence； and pass and repass。 I catch them in humane mantraps；
fire split peas at their legs； play upon them with the engine—
resolve to free mankind from the insupportable burden of the
existence of those lurking ruffians。 He brings actions for trespass；
I bring actions for trespass。 He brings actions for assault and
battery； I defend them； and continue to assault and batter。 Ha； ha；
ha！”
To hear him say all this with unimaginable energy； one might
have thought him the angriest of mankind。 To see him； at the very
same time； looking at the bird now perched upon his thumb； and
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softly smoothing its feathers with his forefinger； one might have
thought him the gentlest。 To hear him laugh； and see the broad
good nature of his face then； one might have supposed that he had
not a care in the world； or a dispute； or a dislike； but that his whole
existence was a summer joke。
“No； no；” he said； “no closing up of my paths by any Dedlock！
Though I willingly confess；” here he softened in a moment； “that
Lady Dedlock is the most accomplished lady in the world； to
whom I would do any homage that a plain gentleman； and no
baronet； with a head seven hundred years thick； may。 A man who
joined his regiment at twenty； and within a week； challenged the
most imperious and presumptuous coxcomb of a commanding
officer that ever drew the breath of life through a tight waist—and
got broke for it—is not the man to be walked over； by all the Sir
Lucifers dead or alive； locked or unlocked。 Ha； ha； ha！”
“Nor the man to allow his junior to be walked over； either？”
said my Guardian。
“Most assuredly not！” said Mr Boythorn； clapping him on the
shoulder with an air of protection； that had something serious in
it； though he laughed。 “He will stand by the low boy； always。
Jarndyce； you may rely upon him！ But； speaking of this trespass—
with apologies to Miss Clare and Miss Summerson for the length
at which I have pursued so dry a subject—is there nothing for me
from your men； Kenge and Carboy？”
“I think not； Esther？” said Mr Jarndyce。
“Nothing； Guardian。”
“Much obliged！” said Mr Boythorn。 “Had no need to ask； after
even my slight experience of Miss Summerson’s forethought for
every one about her。” （They all encouraged me； they were
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determined to do it。） “I inquired because； coming from
Lincolnshire； I of course have not yet been in town； and I thought
some letters might have been sent down here。 I dare say they will
report progress tomorrow morning。”
I saw him so often； in the course of the evening； which passed
very pleasantly； contemplate Richard and Ada with an interest
and a satisfaction that made his fine face remarkably agreeable as
he sat at a little distance from the piano listening to the music—
and he had small occasion to tell us that he was passionately fond
of music； for his face showed it—that I asked my Guardian； as we
sat at the backgammon board； whether Mr Boythorn had ever
been married。
“No；” said he。 “No。”
“But he meant to be！” said I。
“How did you find out that？” he returned with a smile。
“Why； Guardian；” I explained； not without reddening a little at
hazarding what was in my thoughts； “there is something so tender
in his manner； after all； and he is so very courtly and gentle to us；
and—”
Mr Jarndyce directed his eyes to where he was sitting； as I have
just described him。
I said no more。
“You are right； little woman；” he answered。 “He was all but
married； once。 Long ago。 And once。”
“Did the lady die？”
“No—but she died to him。 That time has had its influence on all
his later life。 Would you suppose him to have a head and a heart
full of romance yet？”
“I think； Guardian； I might have supposed so。 But it is easy to
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say that； when you have told me so。”
“He has never since been what he might have been；” said Mr
Jarndyce； “and now you see him in his age with no one near him
but his servant； and his little yellow friend。—It’s your throw； my
dear！”
I felt； from my Guardian’s manner； that beyond this point I
could not pursue the subject without changing the wind。 I
therefore forebore to ask any further questions。 I was interested
but not curious。 I thought a little while about this old love story in
the night； when I was awakened by Mr Boythorn’s lusty snoring；
and I tried to do that very difficult thing—imagine old people
young again； and invested with
