david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第49部分
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went anywhere else； which he don’t。 So take care； child； you don’t
call him anything but Mr。 Dick。’
I promised to obey； and went upstairs with my message；
thinking； as I went； that if Mr。 Dick had been working at his
Memorial long； at the same rate as I had seen him working at it；
through the open door； when I came down； he was probably
getting on very well indeed。 I found him still driving at it with a
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David Copperfield
long pen； and his head almost laid upon the paper。 He was so
intent upon it； that I had ample leisure to observe the large paper
kite in a corner； the confusion of bundles of manuscript； the
number of pens； and； above all； the quantity of ink （which he
seemed to have in； in half…gallon jars by the dozen）； before he
observed my being present。
‘Ha！ Phoebus！’ said Mr。 Dick； laying down his pen。 ‘How does
the world go？ I’ll tell you what；’ he added； in a lower tone； ‘I
shouldn’t wish it to be mentioned； but it’s a—’ here he beckoned to
me； and put his lips close to my ear—‘it’s a mad world。 Mad as
Bedlam； boy！’ said Mr。 Dick； taking snuff from a round box on the
table； and laughing heartily。
Without presuming to give my opinion on this question； I
delivered my message。
‘Well；’ said Mr。 Dick； in answer； ‘my compliments to her； and
I—I believe I have made a start。 I think I have made a start；’ said
Mr。 Dick； passing his hand among his grey hair； and casting
anything but a confident look at his manuscript。 ‘You have been to
school？’
‘Yes； sir；’ I answered； ‘for a short time。’
‘Do you recollect the date；’ said Mr。 Dick； looking earnestly at
me； and taking up his pen to note it down； ‘when King Charles the
First had his head cut off？’ I said I believed it happened in the
year sixteen hundred and forty…nine。
‘Well；’ returned Mr。 Dick； scratching his ear with his pen； and
looking dubiously at me。 ‘So the books say； but I don’t see how
that can be。 Because； if it was so long ago； how could the people
about him have made that mistake of putting some of the trouble
out of his head； after it was taken off； into mine？’
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David Copperfield
I was very much surprised by the inquiry； but could give no
information on this point。
‘It’s very strange；’ said Mr。 Dick； with a despondent look upon
his papers； and with his hand among his hair again； ‘that I never
can get that quite right。 I never can make that perfectly clear。 But
no matter； no matter！’ he said cheerfully； and rousing himself；
‘there’s time enough！ My compliments to Miss Trotwood； I am
getting on very well indeed。’
I was going away； when he directed my attention to the kite。
‘What do you think of that for a kite？’ he said。
I answered that it was a beautiful one。 I should think it must
have been as much as seven feet high。
‘I made it。 We’ll go and fly it； you and I；’ said Mr。 Dick。 ‘Do you
see this？’
He showed me that it was covered with manuscript； very closely
and laboriously written； but so plainly； that as I looked along the
lines； I thought I saw some allusion to King Charles the First’s
head again； in one or two places。
‘There’s plenty of string；’ said Mr。 Dick； ‘and when it flies high；
it takes the facts a long way。 That’s my manner of diffusing ’em。 I
don’t know where they may come down。 It’s according to
circumstances； and the wind； and so forth； but I take my chance of
that。’
His face was so very mild and pleasant； and had something so
reverend in it； though it was hale and hearty； that I was not sure
but that he was having a good…humoured jest with me。 So I
laughed； and he laughed； and we parted the best friends possible。
‘Well； child；’ said my aunt； when I went downstairs。 ‘And what
of Mr。 Dick； this morning？’
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David Copperfield
I informed her that he sent his compliments； and was getting on
very well indeed。
‘What do you think of him？’ said my aunt。
I had some shadowy idea of endeavouring to evade the
question； by replying that I thought him a very nice gentleman；
but my aunt was not to be so put off； for she laid her work down in
her lap； and said； folding her hands upon it：
‘Come！ Your sister Betsey Trotwood would have told me what
she thought of anyone； directly。 Be as like your sister as you can；
and speak out！’
‘Is he—is Mr。 Dick—I ask because I don’t know； aunt—is he at
all out of his mind； then？’ I stammered； for I felt I was on
dangerous ground。
‘Not a morsel；’ said my aunt。
‘Oh； indeed！’ I observed faintly。
‘If there is anything in the world；’ said my aunt； with great
decision and force of manner； ‘that Mr。 Dick is not； it’s that。’
I had nothing better to offer； than another timid； ‘Oh； indeed！’
‘He has been called mad；’ said my aunt。 ‘I have a selfish
pleasure in saying he has been called mad； or I should not have
had the benefit of his society and advice for these last ten years
and upwards—in fact； ever since your sister； Betsey Trotwood；
disappointed me。’
‘So long as that？’ I said。
‘And nice people they were； who had the audacity to call him
mad；’ pursued my aunt。 ‘Mr。 Dick is a sort of distant connexion of
mine—it doesn’t matter how； I needn’t enter into that。 If it hadn’t
been for me； his own brother would have shut him up for life。
That’s all。’
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David Copperfield
I am afraid it was hypocritical in me； but seeing that my aunt
felt strongly on the subject； I tried to look as if I felt strongly too。
‘A proud fool！’ said my aunt。 ‘Because his brother was a little
eccentric—though he is not half so eccentric as a good many
people—he didn’t like to have him visible about his house； and
sent him away to some private asylum…place： though he had been
left to his particular care by their deceased father； who thought
him almost a natural。 And a wise man he must have been to think
so！ Mad himself； no doubt。’
Again； as my aunt looked quite convinced； I endeavoured to
look quite convinced also。
‘So I stepped in；’ said my aunt； ‘and made him an offer。 I said；
“Your brother’s sane—a great deal more sane than you are； or
ever will be； it is to be hoped。 Let him have his little income； and
come and live with me。 I am not afraid of him； I am not proud； I
am ready to take care of him； and shall not ill…treat him as some
people （besides the asylum…folks） have done。” After a good deal of
squabbling；’ said my aunt； ‘I got him； and he has been here ever
since。 He is the most friendly and amenable creature in existence；
and as for advice！—But nobody knows what that man’s mind is；
except myself。’
My aunt smoothed her dress and shook her head； as if she
smoothed defiance of the whole world out of the one； and shook it
out of the other。
‘He had a favourite sister；’ said my aunt； ‘a good creature； and
very kind to him。 But she did what they all do—took a husband。
And he did what they all do—made her wretched。 It had such an
effect upon the mind of Mr。 Dick （that’s not madness； I hope！） that；
combined with his fear of his brother； and his sense of his
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David Copperfield
unkindness； it threw him into a fever。 That was before he came to
me； but the recollection of it is oppressive to him even now。 Did he
say anything to you about King Charles the First； child？’
‘Yes； aunt。’
‘Ah！’ said my aunt； rubbing her nose as if she were a little
vexed。 ‘That’s his allegorical way of expressing it。 He connects his
illness with great disturbance and agitation； naturally； and that’s
the figure； or the simile； or whatever it’s called； which he chooses
to use。 And why shouldn’t he； if he thinks proper！’
I said： ‘Certainly； aunt。’
‘It’s not a business…like way of speaking；’ said my aunt； ‘nor a
worldly way。 I am aware of that； and that’s the reason why I insist
upon it； that there shan’t be a word about it in his Memorial。’
‘Is it a Memorial about his own history that he is writing； aunt？’
‘Yes； child；’ said my aunt； rubbing her nose again。 ‘He is
memorializing the Lord Chancellor； or the Lord Somebody or
other—one of those people； at all events； who are paid to be
memorialized—about his affairs。 I suppose it will go in； one of
these days。 He hasn’t been able to draw it up yet； without
introducing that mode of expressing himself； but it don’t signify； it
keeps him employed。’
In fact； I found out afterwards that Mr。 Dick had been for
upwards of ten years endeavouring to keep King Charles the First
out of the Memorial； but he had been constantly getting into it；
and was there now。
‘I say again；’ said my aunt； ‘nobody knows what that man’s
mind is except myself； and he’s the most amenable and friendly
creature in existence。 If he likes to fly a kite sometimes； what of
that！ Franklin used to fly a kite。 He was a Quaker； or something of
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David Copperfield
that sort； if I am not mistaken。 And a Quaker flying a kite is a
much more ridiculous object than anybody else。’
If I could have supposed that my aunt had recounted these
particulars for my especial behoof； and as a piece of confidence in
me； I should have felt very much distinguished； and should have
augured favourably from such a mark of her good opinion。 But I
could hardly help observing that she had launched into them；
chiefly because the question was raised in her own mind； and with
very little reference to me； though she had addressed herself to me
in the absence of anybody else。
At the same time； I must say that the generosity of her
championship of poor harmless Mr。 Dick； not only inspired my
young breast with some selfish hope for myself； but warmed it
unselfishly towards her。 I believe that I began to know that there
was something about my aunt； notwithstanding her many
eccentricities and odd humours； to be hon
