Chapter 37 Chapter 36

This speaks of the reliable account of the legend of Prince Bridold, and of a most unexpected calamity that befell Mr. Winkle. As he intended to stay in Bath for at least two months, Mr. Pickwick felt it appropriate to find some flats for himself and his friends as a private apartment for the period: a good opportunity, and they rented Crescent at a reasonable price. A house on the street was too large for them to use, so the Dowras proposed to share a bedroom and a sitting room.The offer was accepted at once, and within three days they were all in the new flat, and Mr. Pickwick began to drink the mineral water with great pleasure.Mr. Pickwick drank very regularly.Drink a quarter pint before breakfast, and climb a hill after breakfast; drink a quarter pint after breakfast, and climb down a hill; And strong words proclaimed that his health was much better: this remark gave great comfort to his friends, though they had not previously noticed anything wrong with his health.

In the bathroom is a spacious salon with Corinthian pillars, a music pool, a large wall clock, a statue of Nash[note], and a golden inscription of Everyone should read it, because it calls them to do good deeds that are rewarded with good deeds.There was a big counter with something like a marble vase from which Qingjian drew water; on the counter were many yellow and orange goblets from which people drank; The resolute and dignified appearance at that time was extremely satisfying.There was a bathing place nearby, and some people bathed in it; later, a band played music, and the rest of the people were welcome to bathe too.There was also a pumping room into which unhealthy ladies and gentlemen were wheeled, and of a surprising number of wheelchairs and vehicles, and if any adventurer went in with the usual number of toes, When I came out, there were probably a few less; there was a third pump room, which was for those who were quiet, because it was not as chaotic as the other two.Walking is possible, with or without a cane, with or without a cane: there is plenty of activity and fun.

Every morning the regular drinkers, including Mr. Pickwick, met in one of the barrels, each drank his quarter pint, and went for a walk according to the regimen.When it was time for a walk or exercise in the afternoon, it was a group, including Lord Mactan Hyde and Lord Cruchiton.The widowed Mrs. Snaffoner, and Mrs. Colonel Woogsby, and all the great people, and all the morning waterers.After that, they walked out from the knuckle room.Or go out in a car, or get pushed out in a bath chair, and then meet again.After that, the gentlemen went to the reading room, and then met some people.After that, they went home separately.If there is a play at night, maybe they meet again in the theater; if there is a meeting at night, they meet at the venue;

Once Mr. Pickwick, after thus killing the day, was sitting alone in his room, writing in his diary; his friends had gone to bed, when he was startled by a light knock at the door. "Excuse me, sir," said Mrs. Craddock, the landlady, peeping in. "Is there anything else you need, sir?" "Nothing, ma'am," replied Mr. Pickwick. "My little girl is asleep, sir;" said Mrs. Craddock; "Mr. Dowley is very well, and he says he is sitting waiting for his wife, as the party is expected to be late; so I think, if If you don't need anything, Mr Pickwick, I'll go to bed."

"Please, ma'am," replied Mr. Pickwick. "Good night, sir," said Mrs. Craddock. "Good night, ma'am," replied Mr. Pickwick. Mrs. Craddock closed the door, and Mr. Pickwick continued writing. The diary was written in half an hour.Mr. Pickwick blotted carefully with blotting paper, wiped his pen with the underside of the lining of his coat tail, and carefully put it in the writing-case drawer.There were several sheets of writing paper in that drawer, which were densely covered with words, and the title in round characters was folded outside, which he could see clearly at a glance.It was not a personal paper from the title, it seemed to be about Bath, and it was very short, so Mr. Pickwick unfolded it, and lit about as many bedroom candles as he could read the article; drew the chair closer On the stove, read as follows:

The True Tale of Prince Braddold "Less than two hundred years ago, in the public baths of the city, there appeared a monument in memory of its great founder, the famous Prince Braidud. That monument is now worn out." "Hundreds of years before that time, there was an ancient legend passed down from generation to generation. It was said that the famous prince got leprosy when he came back after learning a wealth of knowledge from ancient Athens, so he avoided his father's death. Court, happy company with the farmer and the pig. Among the herd (so the legend says), there was a majestic pig, for whom the Prince felt sympathetic—for he too was wise— The pig had a pensive and measured demeanor, a life superior to his fellows, and his grunt was terrible, and his mouth was sharp. The prince would have sighed at the sight of the great pig's face; he Thinking of his father, his eyes were wet with tears.

"The clever pig loved to bathe in the thick wet mud. Not in summer, as common pigs bathe and cool themselves; even in ancient times, common pigs did (this proves that the glory of civilization has begun it was bathed in the severe winter. Its clothes were always so shiny and its face so clean that the prince resolved to try the water that his friend used. He tried it. Under the black wet mud, the hot springs of Bath blew. He took a bath and was cured. He hurried to his father's court, greeted his father, and soon returned Came back and built the city and its famous baths. "He found the pig with all the enthusiasm of his former friendship—but, sadly! The hot springs killed him. He accidentally bathed in water that was too hot, and the natural scientist was gone! Its successor was Pliny, who also died for his thirst for knowledge."

"It's just a legend. Please listen to the real story." "Centuries ago, there lived a very powerful king, the famous Rudd Hediziras, the king of Britain. He was a great king. The ground shook when he walked, because he was so fat. Formidable. His people warmed with the splendor of his countenance: for it was so red and bright. He was indeed a king on every leaf from head to foot. And the inches of his figure were many, for, though he He is not very tall, but his body is very large. What he lost in height, he made up for in circumference. Among the monarchs who are not as good as the previous generation in modern times, if you insist on finding someone who can match to a certain extent If he compares it, I say that only the respectable King Cole.

"The good king had a queen, and she, eighteen years ago, bore a son called Braidud. He was sent to a junior seminary in his father's domain, and studied until he was ten years old, He was entrusted to the care of a faithful messenger, who sent him to Athens to attend a further school; since there was no extra fee to be paid during the holidays; and no prior notice was required for a student to leave, he remained in Athens for a long time. At the end of the eighth year, his father sent an attendant to pay the bill on his behalf, and took him back: the attendant had done the job, was greatly applauded, and immediately received an annual salary.

"When King Lud saw the prince, that is, his son, he found that he had grown into a very good young man. He immediately felt that it would be a great thing to ask him to marry immediately, so that he could give birth to The little boy came to continue the glorious blood of Rud until the end of the world. On this idea, he sent a special embassy, ​​composed of those great nobles who had nothing to do and no profitable errands, sent to a neighboring country, and demanded that the king marry his beautiful daughter to his son, and told of his desire to love his brothers and friends with the utmost sincerity, but if they did not consent to the marriage, he Unpleasant necessity, to invade his kingdom, and goug out his eyes, to which the king (who was the weaker of the two) replied that he was grateful for all the kindness and kindness of his friends and brethren. Generous, his daughter could be married whenever Prince Braidud came to take her.

"When this answer reached Britain, the whole country was ecstatic with joy. No other sound was heard anywhere but the sound of feasting and merriment—besides the jingle of money to pay for the merriment of the ceremony, which the people gave to It was issued when the treasury tax collector paid the money. At this time, King Rudd sat on the throne surrounded by the courtiers, stood up with emotion, and ordered the chief justice to fetch the best wine and court Musicians come: This matter of "the great grace of the emperor" is attributed to King Cole due to the ignorance of traditional historians. The description of His Majesty the King in that famous poem is: Want his pipe to smoke, his flagon to drink, And his fiddlers, three. This is clearly an injustice in honor of King Rudd, and a dishonest way of enhancing King Kerr's record. "But, in the midst of all revelry, there is a man who does not drink when the strong wine is poured out, and does not dance to the sound of the music, not because of one, but because the people of the whole country are congratulating him on his happiness, And that Prince Bridud, who tightened his throat and purse, for this matter, forgetting the unquestionable right of the foreign minister to love for him, violated all precedents of policy and diplomacy, For his own benefit, he has fallen in love with a beautiful woman of a noble Athenian and made a private order for life. "Here, we really appreciate the multiple benefits of civilization and upbringing. If the prince was born in the hereafter, he would immediately marry the one his father chose, and then work desperately hard to ease the pressure on him. A heavy burden upon her. He could have contrived to plan how the insult and slight would break her heart; He could also think of ways to kill her, and get rid of her practically. But Prince Braidud didn't think of any kind of relief; so he asked his father to let him have a private audience and tell him the matter. . "It's the time-honored privilege of kings to take care of everything except their own feelings. King Rudd was furious, threw the crown to the ceiling, and then caught it with his hand - because in those days, the kings wore the crown On the head, but not hidden in the watchtower - he stamped his feet and beat his forehead, wondering how his own flesh and blood could resist himself. Later, he called the guards and ordered the prince to sit in a very high turret immediately. Confinement: This is what ancient kings usually did with their sons when their marital inclinations were not in line with their own. "Prince Braidud was imprisoned in a tall turret for more than half a year. There was nothing but a stone wall in front of his naked eyes, and there was only a long-term captivity before his spiritual vision, so he naturally began to think about it. The means of escape, after months of preparation, at last sufficed; ran away himself, but tenderly left a table knife in the heart of his jailer, for otherwise the poor fellow (who had a family) would have To be executed by the enraged king who was supposed to have secretly participated in his escape. "The son's escape made the king mad. He didn't know whom to vent his grief and anger on. Fortunately, he remembered the chief guard who brought his son back to the country, so he was relieved of his annual salary. his head." "Meanwhile, the young artisan disguised himself and wandered in his father's domain, inspired and sustained through all hardships by the sweet thought of the Athenian girl by whom he Innocent culprit of weary misery. One day he stopped to rest in a country; seeing a merry dance going on in the meadow, and merry faces coming and going, he took courage to ask a reveler standing near him People, what is the purpose of having fun like this. "'Don't you know, stranger,' replied he, 'of our King's last proclamation?'" "'Announcement! I don't know. What announcement?' replied the Prince—because he used to walk by lonely paths, so he didn't know what happened on the high roads." "'Hey,' replied the farmer, 'the foreign woman whom our prince wishes to marry has married a nobleman of her own country; Going back to marry his father's chosen one, who is said to be as fair as the noonday sun. Good health to you, sir. Long live the king!'" "The prince listened no more. He left there and ran into the densest depths of a nearby forest. He walked aimlessly, and walked, day and night, under the scorching sun, and in the cold, pale moonlight. under the dryness of noon, and the dampness of night; in the gray light of the morning sun, and in the red light of the evening glow. He wanted to go to Athens, but now he didn't care about time and purpose at all. , got lost in a daze and came to Bath. "At that time, there was no city of Bath. It was desolate and uninhabited, and there would be no name for the area of ​​​​Bath, but there was that noble land, and there were rolling hills. The beautiful river water; and the towering mountains, like a life of suffering, looked from a distance, partly covered by the morning mist, lost the rough and steep momentum, but seemed very gentle. The prince was impressed by this scene Infected by the softness, he sat slumped on the green grass, washing his swollen feet with tears. "'Ah!' said poor Bridold, clasping his palms, and looking up sadly to the sky, 'that here my vagabonds end; From now on, these tears of gratitude to contemptuous love, flow in peace and tranquility for ever!'” "This wish was heard by the gods. It was the age of the pagan gods, and often the people said it, and the gods accepted their words, and very quickly, and sometimes very violently. The earth is under the feet of princes. Cracked; he fell into the cleft; and the cleft was closed forever on his head again, leaving only a well beneath the earth where his hot tears flowed, and from there it gushed for ever . "It is remarkable that, even now, a great many older ladies and gentlemen disappointed in mates, and almost as many young men and women anxious to acquire mates, come to Bath every year to drink from this spring, Much strength and comfort is drawn from it. This is the highest tribute to the merit of Prince Braidud's tears, and the strongest proof of the truth of the legend." Mr. Pickwick yawned drowsily after reading the little manuscript, carefully folded it up again, and put it back in the drawer. Then, with his extremely tired body, he lit the candle in the bedroom and slowly Slowly walked upstairs to sleep. He stopped, as was customary, at Mr. Dowra's door, and knocked to say good night. "Ah!" said Dora, "going to bed? I wish I was. Cool night. Windy. Is it?" "It was very windy," said Mr. Pickwick. "Good night." "Good night." Mr. Pickwick went weary into the bedroom, and Mr. Dowra resumed his chair in front of the fire, and, fulfilling his blind promise, sat and waited for his wife to come home. There are few things more sad than sitting and waiting for someone, especially if the person who is waiting is going to some boring party.You can't help thinking about how quickly time has passed on their side and how slowly it has dragged on yours; and the more you think about it, the less hope you feel for their return soon.Besides, the clock ticks so loudly that when you are sitting by yourself, it is as if you are wearing a flesh-clothes made of cobwebs.At first it feels like something is scratching your right knee, and then it quickly moves to your left knee.As soon as you changed your sitting posture, the feeling quickly went up your arms again; when you fidgeted and twisted your limbs into various strange positions, your nose suddenly had this problem again, So you rub your nose, as if rubbing it off--and no doubt you would, if you could.The eyes, too, are but a burden, and you sleepily snip off one wick while the other grows for an hour and a half.These, and many other minor annoyances, made sitting still in the dead of night absolutely unpleasant. That was Mr. Dowley's will now; he sat by the fire, frankly indignant at all the inhumans at the party that kept him awake.Even the thought that he was going to stay at home because he had a headache in the evening didn't make him feel any better.At last, after a few naps, and a few thrusts of his head at the fire-fence and back just in time to avoid a burn on his face, he decided to lie down on the bed in the back room and think--not sleep, of course. "I'm a sleeper," said Mr. Dowley, when he was in bed. "I must be awake; I think I can hear the knocking from here. I think so. I hear the watchman. He's walking. But now it's a little fainter. A little bit fainter." He turned a corner. Ah!" When Mr. Dowley thought of this, he turned the corner he had been waiting for for a long time, and fell into a deep sleep. It was only three o'clock when the clock broke, and a sedan chair suddenly blew up to Crescent Street, and there was Mrs. Dowra in it: one of the two bearers was short and fat, and the other was tall and thin. It took a lot of work to keep the posture, let alone carry the sedan chair; but on the surrounding high ground and on the Crescent Street, the wind blew so hard that it seemed to roll up the stones on the road. It seems that the fury of the wind is extremely terrifying.So they put down the sedan chair very happily, and knocked heavily on the gate twice. They waited for a while, but no one came. "The servants are in Papus' arms, I think," said the low bearer, warming his hand on the torch of the boy who carried it to light the way. "I wish he'd give 'em a pinch to wake them up," said the tall one. "Knock again, will you?" Mrs. Dowley called from the litter. "Knock two or three more times, please." Humpty Dumpty was very willing to get the job done as quickly as possible; so he stood on the steps and tapped four or five extremely startling double thumps, which amounted to eight or ten blows apart: In between, look up to see if there is a light in the window. No one came.It was still silent and dark. "Alas!" said Mrs. Dowley.- You must knock knock again, please. " "Is there a bell, ma'am?" said the bearer. "Yes," put in the boy with the torch, "I've been pulling." "Just one handle," said Mrs. Dowra. "The thread broke." "I wish it was the servants' necks that were broken," growled the tall one. "I'm sorry to trouble you to knock again," said Mrs. Dowra very politely. Humpty Dumpty knocked a few more times, without any effect.The tall one was very impatient.So he went up to replace him, knocking loudly and intermittently, like a crazy postman. At last, Mr. Winkle began to dream of meetings in a club where the members were not very obedient, so that the chairman had to bang on the table to keep order; and later he dreamed vaguely of an auction house, also empty. Bids were called, and the auctioneer bought everything himself; at last he began to think that there might be a knock at the door.In order to find out, he lingered quietly in bed for ten minutes, listening; he counted to thirty-two-three, and thought it was enough, and he was convinced that he was quite awake. "T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T!" The knocker went on. Mr. Winkle jumped out of bed, not having the slightest idea what might have happened, hastily put on socks and slippers, wrapped his pajamas around himself, and, lighting a flat candle by the low flame of the stove, hurried downstairs. . "Someone has come at last, ma'am," said the bearer. "I'd like to poke him with the little awl in the back," the tall one grumbled. "Who's there?" cried Mr. Eckel, undoing the chain. "Don't just stand and ask questions, you iron-headed thing," replied the tall man with contempt; thinking that the person asking must be a servant: "Open the door quickly." "Come on, come on, stupid-eyed man," added the other as encouragement. Mr. Winkle obediently, half asleep, opened the door a little and peeped out.The first thing he saw was the red glow of the torch in the child's hand.Startled by an inexplicable fear, he thought that maybe the house was on fire, so he opened the door hastily, held the candle above his head, and stared anxiously ahead, not sure whether what he saw was a sedan chair or a house. Firetruck.All at once there was a gust of wind; the candle was blown out; Mr. Winkle felt himself being pushed down the steps; the door was slammed shut. "Well, young man, you are doing well now!" said the bearer. Mr. Winkel saw a woman's face through the window of the sedan chair, turned around quickly, and knocked on the door knocker vigorously.And frantically called the bearer to carry the sedan chair away. "Take it away, take it away," cried Mr. Eckel. "Someone has come out of another house; put me in a litter. Hide me—help me." He was shivering from the cold; and every time he raised his hand to knock on the door knocker, the wind blew his pajamas horrible. "They're coming to the Crescent. There are women in there; cover me with something. Stand before me!" hissed Mr. Winkle.But the bearers were laughing like hell and couldn't help him at all, and the women were getting closer and closer. Mr. Winkle knocked blankly for a final moment; the women were already only a few doors away.He dropped the extinguished candle—which he had been holding aloft over his head—and sprang into Mrs. Dowlar's litter with dignity. At this moment Mrs. Craddock heard knocking at the door and cries of people; and after procrastinating putting something more decent than a nightcap on her head, she hurried to the front parlour, on the first floor, to find out. Is Mrs. Dowley back?She pushed up the sash just as Mr. Winkle was rushing into the litter, and she saw what was going on below; and at once uttered a high, mournful growl, and called to Mr. Dawlar to get up, for his wife was about to join another party. A gentleman elopes. At this, Mr. Dowra sprang out of bed like an Indian rubber ball, and ran into the front room, reaching one window just as Mr. Pickwick pushed the other away: The first thing I saw was Mr. Winkle getting into the sedan chair. "Watchman," said Dowra angrily, "stop him—take him—keep him in jail—lock him till I come down. I'll cut his throat—give me a knife— Cut a slit, Mrs. Craddock. I will!" And the indignant husband broke away from the screaming landlady and Mr. Pickwick, and rushed into the street with a small kitchen knife. But Mr. Winkle did not wait for him.As soon as he heard the dreadful threats of the fierce Dowra, he jumped out of the litter--exactly as swiftly as he had jumped in--flicked his slippers into the street, and began to run barefoot in a circle of the Crescent, followed closely behind. Daura and the Watchmen.He kept running ahead; and when he came back a second time to the door, which was open, he ran in, slammed it in Dowra's face, went upstairs to his room, locked it, and put I packed a washstand, a wardrobe, and a table against it, and packed my few necessities, ready to flee without the first light. Dowra hastened outside the door, and through the keyhole showed his firm determination to cut Mr. Winkel's throat next day; It was clearly visible that there was an active mediation; after this, the people in the same courtyard went back to their respective bedrooms, and everything returned to silence. Where had Sam been all this time?This question is not impossible to ask.We'll talk about his clues in the next chapter.