david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第2部分

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like　this　the　best。　It　will　be　easily　believed　that　I　am　a　fond　parent　
to　every　child　of　my　fancy；　and　that　no　one　can　ever　love　that　
family　as　dearly　as　I　love　them。　But；　like　many　fond　parents；　I　have　
in　my　heart　of　hearts　a　favourite　child。　And　his　name　is　DAVID　
COPPERFIELD。　1869　

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David　Copperfield　

Chapter　1　

I　AM　BORN　

Whether　I　shall　turn　out　to　be　the　hero　of　my　own　life；　or　
whether　that　station　will　be　held　by　anybody　else；　these　
pages　must　show。　To　begin　my　life　with　the　beginning　
of　my　life；　I　record　that　I　was　born　（as　I　have　been　informed　and　
believe）　on　a　Friday；　at　twelve　o’clock　at　night。　It　was　remarked　
that　the　clock　began　to　strike；　and　I　began　to　cry；　simultaneously。　

In　consideration　of　the　day　and　hour　of　my　birth；　it　was　
declared　by　the　nurse；　and　by　some　sage　women　in　the　
neighbourhood　who　had　taken　a　lively　interest　in　me　several　
months　before　there　was　any　possibility　of　our　becoming　
personally　acquainted；　first；　that　I　was　destined　to　be　unlucky　in　
life；　and　secondly；　that　I　was　privileged　to　see　ghosts　and　spirits；　
both　these　gifts　inevitably　attaching；　as　they　believed；　to　all　
unlucky　infants　of　either　gender；　born　towards　the　small　hours　on　
a　Friday　night。　

I　need　say　nothing　here；　on　the　first　head；　because　nothing　can　
show　better　than　my　history　whether　that　prediction　was　verified　
or　falsified　by　the　result。　On　the　second　branch　of　the　question；　I　
will　only　remark；　that　unless　I　ran　through　that　part　of　my　
inheritance　while　I　was　still　a　baby；　I　have　not　come　into　it　yet。　But　
I　do　not　at　all　complain　of　having　been　kept　out　of　this　property；　
and　if　anybody　else　should　be　in　the　present　enjoyment　of　it；　he　is　
heartily　welcome　to　keep　it。　

I　was　born　with　a　caul；　which　was　advertised　for　sale；　in　the　

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David　Copperfield　

newspapers；　at　the　low　price　of　fifteen　guineas。　Whether　sea…going　
people　were　short　of　money　about　that　time；　or　were　short　of　faith　
and　preferred　cork　jackets；　I　don’t　know；　all　I　know　is；　that　there　
was　but　one　solitary　bidding；　and　that　was　from　an　attorney　
connected　with　the　bill…broking　business；　who　offered　two　pounds　
in　cash；　and　the　balance　in　sherry；　but　declined　to　be　guaranteed　
from　drowning　on　any　higher　bargain。　Consequently　the　
advertisement　was　withdrawn　at　a　dead　loss—for　as　to　sherry；　my　
poor　dear　mother’s　own　sherry　was　in　the　market　then—and　ten　
years　afterwards；　the　caul　was　put　up　in　a　raffle　down　in　our　part　
of　the　country；　to　fifty　members　at　half…a…crown　a　head；　the　winner　
to　spend　five　shillings。　I　was　present　myself；　and　I　remember　to　
have　felt　quite　uncomfortable　and　confused；　at　a　part　of　myself　
being　disposed　of　in　that　way。　The　caul　was　won；　I　recollect；　by　an　
old　lady　with　a　hand…basket；　who；　very　reluctantly；　produced　from　
it　the　stipulated　five　shillings；　all　in　halfpence；　and　twopence　
halfpenny　short—as　it　took　an　immense　time　and　a　great　waste　of　
arithmetic；　to　endeavour　without　any　effect　to　prove　to　her。　It　is　a　
fact　which　will　be　long　remembered　as　remarkable　down　there；　
that　she　was　never　drowned；　but　died　triumphantly　in　bed；　at　
ninety…two。　I　have　understood　that　it　was；　to　the　last；　her　proudest　
boast；　that　she　never　had　been　on　the　water　in　her　life；　except　
upon　a　bridge；　and　that　over　her　tea　（to　which　she　was　extremely　
partial）　she；　to　the　last；　expressed　her　indignation　at　the　impiety　of　
mariners　and　others；　who　had　the　presumption　to　go　‘meandering’　
about　the　world。　It　was　in　vain　to　represent　to　her　that　some　
conveniences；　tea　perhaps　included；　resulted　from　this　
objectionable　practice。　She　always　returned；　with　greater　
emphasis　and　with　an　instinctive　knowledge　of　the　strength　of　her　

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David　Copperfield　

objection；　‘Let　us　have　no　meandering。’　

Not　to　meander　myself；　at　present；　I　will　go　back　to　my　birth。　

I　was　born　at　Blunderstone；　in　Suffolk；　or　‘there　by’；　as　they　say　
in　Scotland。　I　was　a　posthumous　child。　My　father’s　eyes　had　closed　
upon　the　light　of　this　world　six　months；　when　mine　opened　on　it。　
There　is　something　strange　to　me；　even　now；　in　the　reflection　that　
he　never　saw　me；　and　something　stranger　yet　in　the　shadowy　
remembrance　that　I　have　of　my　first　childish　associations　with　his　
white　grave…stone　in　the　churchyard；　and　of　the　indefinable　
compassion　I　used　to　feel　for　it　lying　out　alone　there　in　the　dark　
night；　when　our　little　parlour　was　warm　and　bright　with　fire　and　
candle；　and　the　doors　of　our　house　were—almost　cruelly；　it　
seemed　to　me　sometimes—bolted　and　locked　against　it。　

An　aunt　of　my　father’s；　and　consequently　a　great…aunt　of　mine；　
of　whom　I　shall　have　more　to　relate　by　and　by；　was　the　principal　
magnate　of　our　family。　Miss　Trotwood；　or　Miss　Betsey；　as　my　poor　
mother　always　called　her；　when　she　sufficiently　overcame　her　
dread　of　this　formidable　personage　to　mention　her　at　all　（which　
was　seldom）；　had　been　married　to　a　husband　younger　than　herself；　
who　was　very　handsome；　except　in　the　sense　of　the　homely　adage；　
‘handsome　is；　that　handsome　does’—for　he　was　strongly　suspected　
of　having　beaten　Miss　Betsey；　and　even　of　having　once；　on　a　
disputed　question　of　supplies；　made　some　hasty　but　determined　
arrangements　to　throw　her　out　of　a　two　pair　of　stairs’　window。　
These　evidences　of　an　incompatibility　of　temper　induced　Miss　
Betsey　to　pay　him　off；　and　effect　a　separation　by　mutual　consent。　
He　went　to　India　with　his　capital；　and　there；　according　to　a　wild　
legend　in　our　family；　he　was　once　seen　riding　on　an　elephant；　in　
company　with　a　Baboon；　but　I　think　it　must　have　been　a　Baboo—　

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David　Copperfield　

or　a　Begum。　Anyhow；　from　India　tidings　of　his　death　reached　
home；　within　ten　years。　How　they　affected　my　aunt；　nobody　knew；　
for　immediately　upon　the　separation；　she　took　her　maiden　name　
again；　bought　a　cottage　in　a　hamlet　on　the　sea…coast　a　long　way　off；　
established　herself　there　as　a　single　woman　with　one　servant；　and　
was　understood　to　live　secluded；　ever　afterwards；　in　an　inflexible　
retirement。　

My　father　had　once　been　a　favourite　of　hers；　I　believe；　but　she　
was　mortally　affronted　by　his　marriage；　on　the　ground　that　my　
mother　was　‘a　wax　doll’。　She　had　never　seen　my　mother；　but　she　
knew　her　to　be　not　yet　twenty。　My　father　and　Miss　Betsey　never　
met　again。　He　was　double　my　mother’s　age　when　he　married；　and　
of　but　a　delicate　constitution。　He　died　a　year　afterwards；　and；　as　I　
have　said；　six　months　before　I　came　into　the　world。　

This　was　the　state　of　matters；　on　the　afternoon　of；　what　I　may　
be　excused　for　calling；　that　eventful　and　important　Friday。　I　can　
make　no　claim　therefore　to　have　known；　at　that　time；　how　matters　
stood；　or　to　have　any　remembrance；　founded　on　the　evidence　of　
my　own　senses；　of　what　follows。　

My　mother　was　sitting　by　the　fire；　but　poorly　in　health；　and　very　
low　in　spirits；　looking　at　it　through　her　tears；　and　desponding　
heavily　about　herself　and　the　fatherless　little　stranger；　who　was　
already　welcomed　by　some　grosses　of　prophetic　pins；　in　a　drawer　
upstairs；　to　a　world　not　at　all　excited　on　the　subject　of　his　arrival；　
my　mother；　I　say；　was　sitting　by　the　fire；　that　bright；　windy　March　
afternoon；　very　timid　and　sad；　and　very　doubtful　of　ever　coming　
alive　out　of　the　trial　that　was　before　her；　when；　lifting　her　eyes　as　
she　dried　them；　to　the　window　opposite；　she　saw　a　strange　lady　
coming　up　the　garden。　

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David　Copperfield　

My　mother　had　a　sure　foreboding　at　the　second　glance；　that　it　
was　Miss　Betsey。　The　setting　sun　was　glowing　on　the　strange　lady；　
over　the　garden…fence；　and　she　came　walking　up　to　the　door　with　a　
fell　rigidity　of　figure　and　composure　of　countenance　that　could　
have　belonged　to　nobody　else。　

When　she　reached　the　house；　she　gave　another　proof　of　her　
identity。　My　father　had　often　hinted　that　she　seldom　conducted　
herself　like　any　ordinary　Christian；　and　now；　instead　of　ringing　the　
bell；　she　came　and　looked　in　at　that　identical　window；　pressing　the　
end　of　her　nose　against　the　glass　to　that　extent；　that　my　poor　dear　
mother　used　to　say　it　became　perfectly　flat　and　white　in　a　moment。　

She　gave　my　mother　such　a　turn；　that　I　have　always　been　
convinced　I　am　indebted　to　Miss　Betsey　for　having　been　born　on　a　
Friday。　

My　mother　had　left　her　chair　in　her　agitation；　and　gone　behind　
it　in　the　corner。　Miss　Betsey；　looking　round　the　room；　slowly　and　
inquiringly；　began　on　the　other　side；　and　carried　her　eyes　on；　like　
a　Saracen’s　Head　in　a　Dutch　clock；　until　they　reached　my　mother。　
Then　she　made　a　frown　and　a　gesture　to　my　mother；　like　one　who　
was　accustomed　to　be　obeyed；　to　come　and　open　the　door。　My　
mother　went。　

‘Mrs。　David　Copperfield；　I　think；’　said　Miss　Betsey；　the　
emphasis　referring；　perhaps；　to　my　mother’s　mourning　weeds；　and　
her　condition。　

‘Yes；’　said　my　mother；　faintly。　

‘Miss　Trotwood；’　said　the　visitor。　‘You　have　heard　of　her；　I　dare　
say？’　

My　mother　answered　she　had　had　that　pleasure。　And　she　had　a　
disagreeable　consciousness　of　not　appearing　to　imply　that　it　had　

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David　Copperfield　

been　an　overpowering　pleasure。　

‘Now　you　see　her；’　said　Miss　Betsey。　My　mother　bent　her　head；　
and　begged　her　to　walk　in。　

They　went　into　the　parlour　my　mother　had　come　from；　the　fire　
in　the　best　room　on　the　other　side　of　the　passage　not　being　
lighted—not　having　been　lighted；　indeed；　since　my　father’s　
funeral；　and　when　they　were　both　seated；　and　Miss　Betsey　said　
nothing；　my　mother；　after　vainly　trying　to　restrain　herself；　began　
to　cry。　‘Oh　tut；　tut；　tut！’　said　Miss　Betsey；　in　a　hurry。　‘Don’t　do　that！　
Come；　come！’　

My　mother　couldn’t　help　it　notwithstanding；　so　she　cried　until　
she　had　had　her　cry　out。　

‘Take　off　your　cap；　child；’　said　Miss　Betsey；　‘and　let　me　see　you。’　

My　mother　was　too　much　afraid　of　her　to　refuse　compliance　
with　this　odd　request；　if　she　had　any　disposition　to　do　so。　
Therefore　she　d