Chapter 32 Chapter 28 Mr. Micawber's Challenge

In the days before entertaining newfound old friends, I lived on Dora and coffee.My appetite has been spoiled by the feeling of broken love.I was quite glad of it, for I thought it would be unfaithful to Dora to take an interest in eating and drinking.I took frequent walks, but in this respect the usual effect was not achieved, for the fresh air was outweighed by disappointment.Also because of the painful experience of this stage, I also doubt whether a person who has been squeezed by tight boots will have a natural taste for meat.I believe that the appetite will only be good if there is no pain in the limbs.

At this small family banquet, I no longer spend as much as I did last time.I had only two fish, a leg of lamb and a stuffed pigeon.As soon as I timidly mentioned cooking fish and leg of lamb, Mrs. Crupp objected, and said, as if greatly injured, "No! No, sir! Please don't think I do such things! Because you know, I can't do things like that to my own satisfaction!" But at last a compromise was reached: Mrs. Crupp agreed to cook these few things, and I was to eat at home for the next fortnight. Here I may say that I suffered dreadfully with Mrs. Crupp, because of the dominance she exercised over me.I'm not so much afraid of anyone as I am of her.I compromise on everything.If I hesitate for a moment, her strange disease will attack.That strange disease was always lurking in her body, and would attack her fiercely at any time.For example, when I rang the bell politely more than six times and got no response, I grew impatient, and she finally came up—and this was unreliable anyway—with an angry face, and fell down on the door as soon as she entered. Lying on a chair by the door, laying her dying hand on her purple bodice, she looked so ill that I had to try and get her away with brandy or something.For example, I objected to making the bed at five o'clock in the afternoon--I still find this arrangement uncomfortable--as long as her hand moved slightly towards the place where the purple calico felt hurt, I would Will stammer to say no to her.In short, I'd rather do anything in broad daylight than offend Mrs. Crupp.She is the horror of my life.

I also bought a table trolley for the party, and I no longer employ the quick-witted young man, whom I have a prejudice against, because I met him one Sunday morning in the Strand, and saw The vest he was wearing resembled the one I lost at my last treat.The "chick" was hired again, but restricted to passing in trays, and then retreated to the first door of the stairs; No more chance of trampling on the plate. I also bought ingredients for a pot of punch, to be mixed by Mr. Micawber; a bottle of perfume, two candles, and a bag of assorted pins and pin-cushions, which I kept on my dressing-table. on, for Mrs. Micawber's toilet.For Mrs. Micawber's convenience, a fire was lit in my bedroom, and I spread the table-cloth myself.I just waited for everything to start.

When the appointed time came, my three guests came together.Mr. Micawber's collar was higher than ever, and a new ribbon was fastened over his spectacles; Mrs. Micawber's hat was wrapped in light brown paper; Mrs. Bo.They all love my place.I led Mrs. Micawber to my dressing-table; she was so delighted to see what was there for her, and called Mr. Micawber in. "My dear Copperfield," said Mr. Micawber, "it is very luxurious. The way of life reminds me of my life when I was a celibate, before Mrs. Micawber was invited to the wedding. make a covenant at the altar of God."

"He means, invited by him, Mr. Copperfield," said Mrs. Micawber jokingly. "He can't be responsible for others." "My dear," replied Mr. Micawber with sudden earnestness, "I do not want to be responsible for anyone else. I know too well that when an unknown fate left you to me, it was perhaps destined to leave you to a A man who after a long struggle finally died amid complex economic difficulties. I understand you, my love. I am sorry for what you said, but I can bear it." "Micawber!" cried Mrs. Micawber, weeping. "Is it my fault! I never deserted you, and never will, Micawber!"

"My love," said Mr. Micawber, with much emotion, "you will forgive, and I am sure that our old friend Copperfield, who has been with us through our troubles, will also forgive, the wounded spirit, which, because of the recent and wonderful young People—in other words, the cheap thing that runs the faucet with the water company—produce a conflict and overly sentimental emotions in a moment, and you will pity its arrogance instead of condemning it.” So Mr. Micawber put his arms around Mrs. Micawber and shook my hand; which led me to infer from the hints in this sentence that the water supply to his house was cut off by the water company that afternoon because of non-payment of the water bill. .

To make him forget the melancholy, I told Mr. Micawber that I was still waiting for him to make the pot of punch, and took him to the lemon-store.His annoyance disappeared immediately, let alone despair.In the scent of lemon rind and sugar, in the smell of hot rum, in the steam of boiling water, I never saw anyone so happy as Mr. Micawber.He stirred, blended, and tasted as if he were not making a fortified wine, but running a family business; and it was amazing to see his radiant face through the mist of wonderful aromas.As for Mrs. Micawber, I don't know whether it was the hat, or the fire, or the pair of candles, but she was relatively lovely when she came out of my bedroom.Lark could never be happier than this wonderful woman.

I guessed—I dared to guess rather than ask—that Mrs. Crupp was ill again after frying those two fish.Because at this time our banquet stopped again.The leg of lamb arrived, red on the inside, white and gritty on the outside, as if it had fallen into the ashes of that famous kitchen.But we can't ascertain that fact by the gravy, because the "chick" has spilled gravy all over the stairs.By the way, that gravy stays in there until it disappears on its own. A stuffed pigeon isn't bad, but it's just a show: its shell is, from a phrenological point of view, a disappointing head: full of raised warts, but nothing special underneath.In a word, the banquet was a failure, and I should have been very unhappy if my guests had not been so in high spirits, and Mr. Micawber had not saved me by an ingenious suggestion--I mean for the failure. Very unhappy, and I have often been unhappy about Dora.

"My dear friend Copperfield," said Mr. Micawber, "accidents happen in the best-managed families, without that magical, all-infecting power--in short, I will say—that in a household run by the power of a woman of the noble character of a lady, accidents are to be expected, and should be treated with sanity. If you will allow me to venture, there is something more palatable here. I believe, with a little division of labor, that if some young man is dispatched to fetch a barbecue grill, we can accomplish a great deal; made up for it." There is a barbecue grill in the pantry that I use to roast slices of ham every morning.We fetched it at once, and set to work on Mr. Micawber's suggestion.This is what he called the division of labor: Traddles sliced ​​the mutton; Mr. Micawber (who knew everything well) added pepper, mustard, salt, and pepper; Micawber turned the slices with a fork and took them off; Mrs. Micawber cooked and stirred some mushroom sauce in a small saucepan.When we finished roasting some meat, we began to eat while still rolling up our sleeves; while paying attention to the grilled meat slices on the plate, we paid attention to the meat slices that were steaming and even emitting sparks on the fire.

Because of the novelty, beauty and excitement of this cooking method, we got up to roast and sat down to eat (the crunchy cutlets were piping hot when they came off the rack), busy, hot and happy.In that touching bustle and aroma we ate that leg of lamb down to the bone.My appetite has miraculously returned.I am ashamed to say it, but I do believe that I forgot about Dora for a while.Mr. and Mrs. Micawber could not have been happier if they had sold their beds to give this party, and that gave me great satisfaction.Traddles ate as he cut, and laughed heartily at the same time, hardly ever stopping.In fact, we were all suddenly transformed.I believe there has never been a more successful family dinner than this!

While we were in high spirits, our various departments were busy grilling the last bit of meat to perfection for the day, when I saw an outsider in the room.Li Timo, who was standing in front of me calmly holding his hat, met my eyes. "What's the matter?" I couldn't help asking. "Excuse me, sir, I was directed to come in. Isn't my master here, sir?" "Not here." "Have you not seen him, sir?" "No. Didn't you come from him?" "Did he tell you to come here and look for him?" "Not quite, sir. But, I think, since he's not here today, perhaps he'll be here tomorrow." "Is he from Oxford?" "Sir," he said immediately and respectfully, "please sit down and let me do this." So saying, he just took the spit from my unresisting hand, and leaned over to grill the meat , as if all his attention was focused on that. Had Steerforth himself appeared, I think, we would not have been much disturbed; but in the presence of his respectable servant, we were at once the most humble of humble characters.Mr. Micawber hummed a little tune to show that he was at ease, and sat down first in his chair, a hastily hidden fork protruding from his bosom as if he had killed himself.Mrs. Micawber put on her brown gloves again, with ladylike languor.Traddles, mopping his hair with greasy hands, stood erect, staring dreamily at the table-cloth.And I, a mere child in the master's seat, hardly dared to look at the respectable man who came from God knows where to straighten up my place. At this time, he took the mutton off the rack and handed it over solemnly.We all took a little, but none of us had any appetite for it, and we just pretended to eat it.After we pushed away the plates one by one, he moved the plate away without making a sound and put the cheese on.When they ran out of cheese, he removed it; he cleared the table, put everything that had been removed on the handy dining cart, and set us glasses; pantry.It's all done impeccably, and he never raises his eyes while he's doing it.Still, the way he bent his elbow as he turned his back to me spoke volumes of his conviction that I was too young. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?" I thanked him and said no, but why don't I order dinner? "No, thank you, sir." "Is Steerforth coming from Oxford?" "Excuse me, please repeat, sir?" "Is Steerforth coming from Oxford?" "I should have expected him to be here tomorrow, sir, but I thought he was here today, sir. It's my fault, no doubt, sir." "If you meet him first—" I said. "I'm sorry, sir, I thought I wouldn't see him first." "In case you see him first," I said, "please tell him that I am sorry that he is not here today, because there is another old schoolmate of his here." "Of course, sir!" He bowed to me and Traddles, and glanced at Traddles. As he moved slightly towards the door, I said to him, instinctively—and I must never be with this man—with the faint hope of saying something: "Oh! Li Timo!" "gentlemen!" "Did you stay long in Yarmouth that time?" "Not long, sir." "Did you see that boat finished?" "Yes, sir. I was there to see that boat finished." "I see!" I said.He raised his eyes to me respectfully. "Mr Steerforth hasn't seen the boat, I suppose?" "I can't really say, sir. I think—but, sir, I can't really say, sir, good-bye." After saying these few words, he bowed respectfully to all present and went out.After he was gone, my guests seemed to breathe more freely; and I was relieved, because in addition to being always uncomfortable with the feeling of being inferior, my conscience also felt that I was not in the presence of this man. Worrying about trusting his Master, I couldn't help the vague anxiety that he'd find out.In fact, this is all I want to cover up, but I always feel that this person seems to see through me. Why is that? Mr. Micawber roused me from my meditations with many praises of Lytimer--I was then ashamed to see Steerforth--he called Lytimer a most respectable man, impeccable. servant.I may mention that Mr. Li Timer's bow to the crowd has been accepted by Mr. Micawber, and he has accepted it with infinite humility and courtesy. "But, Punch, my dear Copperfield," said Mr. Micawber, tasting the wine, "time is not waiting. Ah! it tastes very good now. What do you think, my love?" Mrs. Micawber said it was excellent. "Then," said Mr. Micawber, "if my friend Copperfield will allow me to be so presumptuous, I will drink a drink to my friend Copperfield and I when we were young and when we were struggling together. .When it comes to my relationship with Copperfield, I can use the lyrics we sang together in the past- We walked the hills, Pick the beautiful daisies, —Speaking figuratively—sometimes.I don't quite know, but Mr. Micawber, in his voice as loud as ever, and with the same air of indescribable air as he used to do when he danced, said, "Whatever the daisy is, I have no doubt at all that Copperfield and I must often Take that stuff, if you can do it." Just then Mr. Micawber downed a glass of wine; we all did the same.Traddles, though baffled, did not know that Mr. Micawber and I had been comrades in arms a long time ago. "Ha!" said Mr. Micawber again, clearing his throat, with the warmth of the fire and wine. "One more drink, my dear." Mrs. Micawber said just a little.But neither of us agreed, so we poured her a full glass. "As there are no strangers here, Mr. Copperfield," said Mrs. Micawber, drinking, "traddles are now part of our family, and I should like to hear your opinion as to Mr. Micawber's future." Speaking of corn, Mrs. Micawber said plausibly, "As I have said to Mr. Micawber many times, it may be noble, but it is not profitable. Our standards are lowered, and there are only two for a fortnight." A commission of shillings and ninepence is not profitable." We all agree on this. "Then," said Mrs. Micawber, who prided herself on her senses, and on her female wisdom, which had the power to put Mr. Micawber on the right path when he might go astray, "then I ask myself this question: Reliable, what else is reliable? Is coal reliable? Not at all. At my natal family's suggestion, we have devoted our attention to that kind of experiment, and we have found it to be wrong." Mr. Micawber, leaning back in his chair, with his hands in his pockets, looked at us and nodded to us, as if to say: "That's clear enough." "Commodities such as grain and coal," said Mrs. Micawber, with more eloquence; To make such a man of Mr. Micawber's talents successful? I exclude all commission-based business, because commissions are unreliable. I believe that there is only one reliable business that is most suitable for Micawber. Mr. Man of this special talent." Traddles and I both murmured our understanding, saying that this great discovery certainly applied to Mr. Micawber, and he was well deserved. "I need not deceive you, my dear Mr. Copperfield," said Mrs. Micawber, "I have long felt that the brewing business was particularly suited to Mr. Micawber. Look at Barclay-Perkins & Co.! Look at Truman, Hambury, Buxton & Co. From what I know of him, I know Mr. Micawber is destined to build on that kind of greatness; I've heard that the income is . What is the point of saying that? No. I believe Mr. Micawber's manner—" "Hum! Really, my dear," put in Mr. Micawber. "Hush, my love," said Mrs. Micawber, putting her brown gloves in his. "I believe, Mr. Copperfield, that Mr. Micawber's manners are especially suited to banking. I mused to myself that if... I had a deposit in a bank, and Mr. Micawber's manners--this manner would Representing the bank--certainly inspires confidence and deepens relations. But if Mr. Micawber's talents are refused to be used by either bank, and not solemnly accepted, what is the point of saying any more? No. As for a bank, I know that some of my natal family could start such an institution if they would give money to Mr. Micawber. But if they won't give money to Mr. Micawber--they No—what's the point then? I must say we're not getting any better than we were before." I shook my head, and said, "Not at all." Traddles also shook his head, and said, "Not at all." "What inferences do I draw from this?" said Mrs. Micawber, still with the air of analyzing everything clearly; "what is the conclusion I cannot but draw, my dear Mr. Copperfield?" ?Obviously, we should live. Am I wrong in saying that?" "Not at all!" I answered, and Traddles answered, "Not at all!" and I added, quite tactfully, that a man must die if he cannot live. "Exactly," went on Mrs. Micawber. "Indeed. The fact is, my dear Copperfield, that we could not go on living without an opportunity quite different from the present state of affairs. I now think so myself, and I have been several times lately to Mr. Micawber To spell it out, we can't expect an opportunity to present itself. We should somehow make it appear. Maybe I'm wrong, but I take the view." Traddles and I applaud this view. "Well," said Mrs. Micawber. "Well, what do I think? On the one hand, Mr. Micawber has all the qualifications—great ability—" "Really, my love?" said Mr. Micawber. "My dear, please let me finish. On the one hand, Mr. Micawber has every qualification and great ability--genius, I should say, but that may be my wife's partiality-- —” Traddles and I both whispered, "No." "On the other hand, Mr. Micawber has no proper position or errand. Whose responsibility is it? Clearly, society is. I will, then, make this disgraceful fact known to the world, and boldly present it to society. Challenge, make it good. I think, my dear Mr. Copperfield," said Mrs. Micawber fiercely, "that what Mr. Micawber must do is to challenge society, in fact, he should say, 'Someone is up for the fight. Come on up.'" I ventured to ask Mrs. Micawber how this was to be done. "Advertising in the papers," said Mrs. Micawber, "I feel that what Mr. Micawber must do for himself, for his family, and I would even say for the society which has been ignoring him." , that is, to make a special issue in the various papers; to describe himself plainly, to show that he is such a person, that he has such qualifications, and then say: 'Hey, send my letter to the Camden District Post Office with a favorable treatment. , Wilkin Micawber, postage paid.'” "Mrs. Micawber's opinion, my dear Copperfield," said Mr. Micawber, straightening his neck and looking sideways at me, "is, in fact, exactly what I said when I had the honor of seeing you last." Leap." "Advertising costs money," I said dubiously. "Indeed!" said Mrs. Micawber, still with the same sensible air. "It is true, my dear Mr. Copperfield! I said so to Mr. Micawber. But for that I have said." The reason for the past—I said that he should be worthy of himself, his family, and the society— It seems to me that Mr. Micawber should raise a sum of money to be borrowed by promissory note. " Mr. Micawber was reclining in his chair, playing with his spectacles, and looking up at the ceiling; but I think he was also keeping an eye on Traddles, who was staring at the fire. "If my natal family," said Mrs. Micawber, "had no one with sufficient human sympathy to accommodate that promissory note--I think there's a better commercial term for what I mean-- —” Still looking at the ceiling, Mr. Micawber reminded, "Discount." "Discount that promissory note," said Mrs. Micawber. "Then I think Mr. Micawber should go to town and take that promissory note to the money market. Those in the market are forcing great sacrifices on Mr. Micawber, and it is up to their conscience. I firmly regard it as an investment. I advise Mr. Micawber to do the same, my dear Copperfield. Look upon it, sir, as an investment sure to pay off, and resolve to endure all sacrifices." I felt (though I never knew why) that it was a spirit of sacrificial fidelity in Mrs. Micawber, and I murmured the thought.Traddles, who had been still staring at the fire, muttered in my own tone. "I needn't," said Mrs. Micawber, wrapping up her shawl after drinking, and preparing to retire to my bedroom; "I needn't draw too long on the subject of Mr. Micawber's economy. At your fireside , my dear Mr. Copperfield, was also in the presence of Mr. Traddles, who, if not a long friend, was quite his own; and I could not help wanting you to know that when I exhorted Mr. The steps taken. I think it's time for Mr. Micawber to push forward—and I'll say—to push forward, and I think this is the way. , in discussing such matters men tend to be more impartial in their judgment; still I should not forget that when I lived with my father and mother in my natal home my father used to say that Emma was weak in body but she No one is weaker in understanding the same subject. My father is partial, and I know that, but he is in any case an observant man, and my conscience and reason do not allow me to doubt it." Having said this, Mrs. Micawber declined our request for another drink, and retired to my bedroom.I really think she is a noble woman, the kind of woman who can be regarded as a Roman lady, who can build all kinds of great achievements in times of social turmoil. Excited by this impression, I congratulate Mr. Micawber on having such a good wife.Traddles did the same.Micawber shook hands with us in turn, then covered his own face with a handkerchief (which contained more snuff, I thought, than he could feel), and drank again very cheerfully. He is very eloquent.He enlightened us that we are born again in children, and that under the pressure of economic hardship, the number of children is a great joy.Mrs. Micawber, he said, had been suspicious of the matter of late, but she was at last reassured by his advice.As for her natal family, they were not worthy of her at all.He didn't care a bit what they said, and told them—I'm quoting him here—to go away. Mr. Micawber followed up with a passionate tribute to Traddles.Traddles, he said, was a character, and he, Micawber, had none of his Traddles virtues, but—thank God—could admire them.He referred sympathetically to the young lady whom Traddles had loved and loved whom he did not know.Mr. Micawber drank her a drink, and I did the same.Traddles thanked us both, saying with the simplicity and frankness I liked: "I really appreciate you. I assure you, she's the sweetest girl ever!—" After that, Mr. Micawber referred to my love affairs with the utmost delicacy and courtesy, whenever the opportunity arose.He said he was sure that his friend Copperfield had a lover.I was hot and restless for a long time, and after a succession of blushes, stammers, and denials, I finally took my glass and said, "Yes! I'll drink to Dora!" and rush into my bedroom with a glass of wine, so that Mrs. Micawber can toast Dora.Mrs. Micawber toasted very enthusiastically, and cried out from within, "Listen, listen! My dear Mr. Copperfield, I am so happy. Listen!" while she flicked Hit the wall to celebrate. Later, our conversation turned to more mundane matters.Mr. Micawber told me that he found the Camden area uncomfortable, and that when the effect of the advertisement would bring about some more satisfactory opportunity, the first thing he wanted to do was to move.He mentioned that there was a lane at the west end of Oxford Street facing Hyde Park, a place he had always looked out for, but he didn't expect to be able to move into it right away, since the move required a lot of money.For a while, he explained, he might be content to live above a house in a decent commercial area—Pigatri, say.Mrs. Micawber would love the place.There, with a curved window, or an extra floor, or a little change like that, they could live comfortably for a few years.He also insisted that whatever chance he had, and wherever he lived, there would always be a room for Traddles and a knife and fork for me, and we could be quite sure of that. .We thanked him for his kindness; and he begged us to pardon him for speaking of such mundane and trivial matters of reality, which are so natural to a man who is trying to make a radical new life, so we should forgive him. Mrs. Micawber rapped on the wall again, and asked if the tea-water was ready, and this interrupted our friendly conversation, and prevented us from communicating with each other on the other side of life.She prepared our tea in the most satisfactory way.Whenever I approached her and handed her a teacup or bread or butter, she would ask me in a low voice if Dora was white or black, short or tall, or something like that.I think it pleases me that she asked me that.After tea we discussed various matters by the fire; Mrs. Micawber sang to us her best "Brave Officer in White" and "Little Tavern" (in a low, level voice, I remember, when I first met her, I thought of the voice as a light beer for hearing aids).While living with her parents in her natal home, Mrs. Micawber was known for singing both tunes.Mr. Micawber told us that when he first saw her at her natal home and heard her sing the first piece, she was particularly attracted to her, and when she sang "Little Tuffling," he hit He made up his mind: if he doesn't get this woman, he will never return alive. Between ten and eleven Mrs. Micawber rose, wrapped the hat again in the light brown paper, and put the bonnet on again.While Traddles was putting on his overcoat, Mr. Micawber took the opportunity to slip me a letter, enjoining me to read it when people were gone.Mr. Micawber led Mrs. Micawber, and Traddles followed, holding her hat.I left Traddles on the top of the stairs while I went down with a candle on the banister to light them. "Traddles," said I, "Mr. Micawber is no villain, very poor; However, if I were you, I would never lend him anything. " "My dear Copperfield," laughed Traddles, "I have nothing to borrow." "You have a name, you know it," I said. "Oh! You say it's a thing to borrow?" said Traddles thoughtfully. "certainly." "Oh!" said Traddles. "Yes, of course! I'm very grateful to you, Copperfield; but—I'm afraid I've lent him that." "On that promissory note for some kind of investment?" I asked. "No," said Traddles. "Not for that kind of thing anymore. It's the first time I've heard of one. I've always thought he'd probably suggest that on the way home. Mine was borrowed for another use. " "I hope nothing goes wrong in the future," I said. "I hope not," said Traddles; "but I don't think it can be wrong, because he told me the day before that there would be a way to pay it back. There would be a way to pay it back, Mr. Micawber." That's what it said." At this moment, Mr. Micawber looked up towards where we stood, and I had only time to repeat my admonition.Traddles thanked me and went down.But when I saw how kindly he helped Mrs. Micawber up after he had put his hat down, I feared that he would be dragged into the financial markets with his bones and bones. I returned to the fire, and was half-seriously, half-sarcastically meditating on Mr. Micawber's character, and our old relations, when I heard a hurry up-stairs.At first I thought it was Traddles returning to fetch something Mrs Micawber had dropped, but as the footsteps approached I recognized them.I felt my heart beating violently, and the blood rushed into my face, for it was Steerforth's step. Agnes has never been forgotten by me, and she has always been in the temple dedicated to her in my mind, if I may say so, the moment I saw her.But when Steerforth came in and stood before me with outstretched hand, the shadow that had fallen on him became light again, and I too was confused and ashamed for having doubted that I had loved so much.I still love her, too, and still see her as a benevolent and gentle angel in my life; but I blame myself (not her) for wronging Steerforth; and if I knew anything to make it up to him, I would make it up of. "Hey, Daisy, big boy, I'm in a daze!" Steerforth shook my hand affectionately and shook it off happily, and said with a smile, "I bumped into your treat again, you Sebastian Man! These fellows from Doctor's College are the happiest people in town, I believe they are; far better than our cold Oxford people!" He took a seat opposite me on the same sofa where Mrs. Micawber had just sat, Turn up the fire, and survey my room with those cheerful eyes. "I was so surprised at first," I greeted him with all the warmth I could feel, "that I could hardly breathe to greet you, Steerforth." "Well, as the Scots say, a man with a diseased eye will pack up when he sees me," Steerforth went on, "See you, Daisy, in good spirits, too. How are you, my disciple of Backus?" -------- ① Saibalit is an ancient Greek city built in the eighth century BC; the people there are known for their luxury, so Westerners regard it as a synonym for luxury people. ② means popular. ③Bacchus is the god of wine in Roman mythology. "I'm fine," I said. "However, tonight is not a treat, although there are three guests." "I met three of them in the street, and they were all shouting at you," continued Steerforth. "Who's our friend in the leggings?" I gave him my opinion of Mr. Micawber in as few words as I could.He laughed heartily at my barely able introduction to the gentleman, saying that Mr. Micawber was a man to be acquainted with, and that he must acquaint himself with Mr. Micawber. "However, who do you think our other friend is?" This time it was my turn to ask. "God knows," said Steerforth. “不是个让人讨厌的家伙吧，我希望？我觉得他有那么点像个人。” “特拉德尔！”我得意地说道。 “他是谁？”斯梯福兹漫不经心地问道。 “你不记得特拉德尔了？忘了在萨伦学校里和我们用一个宿舍的特拉德尔？” “哦！那家伙！”斯梯福兹用火钩敲着炉里最上一块煤说道。“他还像以前那么软心肠吗？你在哪儿遇到他的？” 由于我觉得斯梯福兹对待拉德尔太看不起了，我就尽可能说他的好话。斯梯福兹点点头笑了笑，说了句他也喜欢那位老同学因为那人一向怪怪的，说罢，他又把那话题扯开，问我可能给他点什么吃的。在这短短对话中的大多数时间里，他用那种没生气的态度说话时，总懒洋洋地坐在那里，用火钩敲那块煤。我把剩下的鸽肉馅饼端出来时，见他还是那样做。 “哈，雏菊，这是一个国王的晚餐呢！”他一下跳了起来，坐到桌边大叫道。“我要大吃上一顿，因为我是从雅茅斯来的。” “我还以为你从牛津来的呢？”我紧接着说道。 “不，”斯梯福兹说道。“我去航海了——更有意思呢。” “李提默今天来这儿打听你来着，”我说道，“我以为他说你在牛津呢；不过，现在我想，他的确没那么说。” “李提默比我想象得还要蠢，竟来打听我，“斯梯福兹兴致很高地倒了一杯酒，一面为我干杯，一面说道。”如果你能了解他，雏菊，你就是我们这些人中最聪明的人了。” “那是真的，的确，”我说道，并把椅子朝桌旁移了移。 “你竟到了雅茅斯，斯梯福兹！”我想知道那儿的一切。“你在那里住得久吗？” “不久，”他答道，“不过是约一个星期的·浪·荡。” “他们都好吗？当然，小爱米丽还没有结婚吧？” “还没有呢。快要结婚了，我想——就在几个星期内吧，或者几个月内，总归要结婚的。我不怎么常常见到他们。想起来了；”他放下他一直用得很忙的刀叉，开始在衣服口袋里摸索，“我给你捎了封信来。” “谁写的？” “哈，你的老保姆写的，”他一面从胸前口袋中掏出些文件来，一面答道。“'詹·斯梯福兹，如意酒店的债务人'；这不是的。别慌，我们马上就能找到了。那个老——他叫什么来着——情况不妙，信里谈到了这个，我相信。” “你是说巴吉斯吗？” “对！”他还在摸索衣袋，看那里的东西。“可怜的巴吉斯没治了，我怕是这样。我在那里遇到了一个小药剂师——外科医生，管他是什么——就是你阁下出生他帮忙来着的那位。他对那病很了解，我觉得；他的结论却是：那车夫正在很快地走他最后的旅程。——你去摸摸我挂在那边椅子上的外套的胸袋，我相信你能找到那封信的。在吗？” “在这儿呢！”我说道。 "correct!" 信是皮果提写的；比以往的更潦草也更简短。信中谈到她丈夫绝望的境况，说他比过去“更小气一点了，”因此也就更难让他自己好受点。信中只字未提及她的辛劳和护理，却全是有关他的好话。满信都是她那质朴的天真和毫不娇饰的恳切，我深知这都发自她内心；信的结尾语是“问我永远珍爱的好”——这是说的我。 我辨读那封信时，斯梯福兹一个劲又吃又喝。 “这是种让人伤感的事，”他吃完后说道。“不过，太阳每天落下，人类每分钟有死亡，我们不应该被人人免不了的命运吓住了。如果我们听到那公平的脚步①来敲别人的门时就把握不住自己的命运了，那我们就要失去这世上的一切。不！向前！需要时不妨狂奔疾驰，过得去时不妨缓步徐行，总之向前！越过一切障碍向前，在竞争中获胜！” -------- ①公元前6世纪罗马诗人贺拉斯有诗句为：“灰白色的死神，迈着公平的脚步，敲响穷人茅舍的柴扉，敲响王公殿宇的朱门。” “在什么竞争中获胜呢？”我说道。 “在我们已投入的竞争中，”他说道，“向前！” 我记得，当他停下，把他那俊秀的头略略后仰，举起他手中杯子看着我时，我看出虽然他脸色红润，有海风的清新洗刷痕迹，但也有我上次见到他时的那种紧张，就好像他曾致力干着一种他习惯性的紧张工作；那精力被激发起来后，是那样狂热奔放地在他内心激荡。我本想劝劝他，别抱着从事冒险行为的幻想——比方和凶险的海浪较量或和恶劣的天气拼命——可是我的思路转回到眼前的话题，我就又接着说下去了。 “我告诉你，斯梯福兹，”我说道，“如果你精神旺盛得肯听我说——” “我精神总是亢奋的，肯做任何你喜欢的事，”他说着从餐桌边移到火炉边。 “那么，我告诉你实话吧，斯梯福兹。我想，我一定得去看看我的老保姆。倒不是因为我能为她做什么于她有益的事，或能给她什么实际的帮助；不过，她那么关心我，我探访她也会在她身上产生效力。她会很看重我的探访，从而感到安慰和支持。我可以肯定，对于一个也像她一样爱护我的朋友来说，这并不怎么费事。如果你处在我的地位，你会不会也做一天这样的旅行呢？” 他露出心绪不宁的样子，坐在那儿想了想后，才用一种低低的声音答道，“行！去吧，你不会妨害人的。” “你刚回，”我说道，“邀请你和我同去是不用想了啰？” “是呀，”他答道。“今晚我去海盖特。我有这么久没见我母亲了，难免有些过意不去，因为难得有像她那样爱一个浪荡儿子的母亲呀。——呸！胡说八道！——你是说明天去吧，我猜？”他伸直两条胳膊，一手放在我肩头上说道。 “是的，我想是那样。” “得，那就后天再去吧。我本打算要你和我们一块住几天呢。我来是想请你，你却偏偏要往雅茅斯飞。” “斯梯福兹，你自己老是神不知鬼不觉地到处走，却说我偏偏飞呢！” 他默默地看了看我，仍像先前那样握住我手摇了几下，然后说道： “来吧，明天一定来，尽可能和我们好好过一天！谁知道我们什么时候再相会？来吧！明天一定来！我要你站在萝莎·达特尔和我中间，把我们俩分开。” “难道，没有我，你们俩会爱得至深？” “对，也许恨得至深，”斯梯福兹笑道；“无论是爱还是恨。 bring it on!明天可一定来哦！ " 我答应明天去；他穿上外套，点起雪茄，走着回家去。看出了他的心思，我也穿上外套（但没点上雪茄，因为我已抽得够多了），和她一直走到空阔的大路上，在那时的夜间，那大路上静悄悄的。他一路上兴高采烈。分手时，我从他身后朝他看去，见他那么勇敢地轻轻松松往家走，不禁想到他说“越过一切障碍向前，在竞争中获胜”！开始希望他投身的是一种有价值的竞争。 我回到自己卧室宽衣时，米考伯先生的信落到了地板上。我这时才记起这封信，便拆开来读。信是晚餐前一个半小时写的。我不记得我是否提起过，但凡米考伯先生遇到什么不得了的困难时，他便用法律术语陈辞。他似乎认为这就等于解决了他的问题。 “阁下——因为我不敢称呼你，我亲爱的科波菲尔。 “我应当奉告你；在下署名者已大败。今天你也许见此人闪烁其词，乃不愿让你知道此人之窘况；但希望已沉入地平线下，下方署名者已大败。 “在受到某个人之迫害（我不能称之为社会）下我写就此信。此某受雇于某经纪人，已心智混迷。此某已扣押署名者之住所以追补租金，其扣押物不仅包括本宅长住房客之署名人的各种动产，尚累及内院荣誉学会会员并寄宿本宅之客汤马斯·特拉德尔先生的一切财产。 “署名人此时唇边将溢之杯愁苦如还缺一滴忧郁的需'斟'（此乃某不朽诗翁之言），则可借下列事实得之： 前言之一托马斯·特拉德尔先生曾好心承受署名人23镑4先令9便士半之期票一张，现已到期，却无法兑现。 不仅如此，就实际而言，署名人之沉重负担，又因自然规律将增加一弱小受苦者而更重也；以弱小者出世之日——以数字示之——自即日算起，不出六个太阴月矣。 “上述之言，可以将其视作分外行功①，署名人泥首墨面，忏悔不已。 -------- ①天主教教义中指积贮之功德，可移充他人补过之用。 威尔金·米考伯呈” Poor Traddles! 这时，我总算认清了米考伯先生，也料定他可以从那挫败中恢复；但我夜里没睡好，因为担心着特拉德尔，担心着那住在德文郡的牧师的女儿——她是十个中的一个，她是那么可爱的一个姑娘，她肯等待特拉德尔（多不吉利的赞扬啊！） 一直等到她60岁，或任何想得到的年纪。