david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第71部分

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insert　Miss　Shepherd’s　name—I　put　her　in　among　the　Royal　
Family。　At　home；　in　my　own　room；　I　am　sometimes　moved　to　cry　
out；　‘Oh；　Miss　Shepherd！’　in　a　transport　of　love。　

For　some　time；　I　am　doubtful　of　Miss　Shepherd’s　feelings；　but；　
at　length；　Fate　being　propitious；　we　meet　at　the　dancing…school。　I　
have　Miss　Shepherd　for　my　partner。　I　touch　Miss　Shepherd’s　
glove；　and　feel　a　thrill　go　up　the　right　arm　of　my　jacket；　and　come　
out　at　my　hair。　I　say　nothing　to　Miss　Shepherd；　but　we　understand　
each　other。　Miss　Shepherd　and　myself　live　but　to　be　united。　

Why　do　I　secretly　give　Miss　Shepherd　twelve　Brazil　nuts　for　a　
present；　I　wonder？　They　are　not　expressive　of　affection；　they　are　
difficult　to　pack　into　a　parcel　of　any　regular　shape；　they　are　hard　to　
crack；　even　in　room　doors；　and　they　are　oily　when　cracked；　yet　I　
feel　that　they　are　appropriate　to　Miss　Shepherd。　Soft；　seedy　
biscuits；　also；　I　bestow　upon　Miss　Shepherd；　and　oranges　
innumerable。　Once；　I　kiss　Miss　Shepherd　in　the　cloak…room。　
Ecstasy！　What　are　my　agony　and　indignation　next　day；　when　I　
hear　a　flying　rumour　that　the　Misses　Nettingall　have　stood　Miss　
Shepherd　in　the　stocks　for　turning　in　her　toes！　

Miss　Shepherd　being　the　one　pervading　theme　and　vision　of　my　
life；　how　do　I　ever　come　to　break　with　her？　I　can’t　conceive。　And　
yet　a　coolness　grows　between　Miss　Shepherd　and　myself。　

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David　Copperfield　

Whispers　reach　me　of　Miss　Shepherd　having　said　she　wished　I　
wouldn’t　stare　so；　and　having　avowed　a　preference　for　Master　
Jones—for　Jones！　a　boy　of　no　merit　whatever！　The　gulf　between　
me　and　Miss　Shepherd　widens。　At　last；　one　day；　I　meet　the　Misses　
Nettingalls’　establishment　out　walking。　Miss　Shepherd　makes　a　
face　as　she　goes　by；　and　laughs　to　her　companion。　All　is　over。　The　
devotion　of　a　life—it　seems　a　life；　it　is　all　the　same—is　at　an　end；　
Miss　Shepherd　comes　out　of　the　morning　service；　and　the　Royal　
Family　know　her　no　more。　

I　am　higher　in　the　school；　and　no　one　breaks　my　peace。　I　am　not　
at　all　polite；　now；　to　the　Misses　Nettingalls’　young　ladies；　and　
shouldn’t　dote　on　any　of　them；　if　they　were　twice　as　many　and　
twenty　times　as　beautiful。　I　think　the　dancing…school　a　tiresome　
affair；　and　wonder　why　the　girls　can’t　dance　by　themselves　and　
leave　us　alone。　I　am　growing　great　in　Latin　verses；　and　neglect　the　
laces　of　my　boots。　Doctor　Strong　refers　to　me　in　public　as　a　
promising　young　scholar。　Mr。　Dick　is　wild　with　joy；　and　my　aunt　
remits　me　a　guinea　by　the　next　post。　

The　shade　of　a　young　butcher　rises；　like　the　apparition　of　an　
armed　head　in　Macbeth。　Who　is　this　young　butcher？　He　is　the　
terror　of　the　youth　of　Canterbury。　There　is　a　vague　belief　abroad；　
that　the　beef　suet　with　which　he　anoints　his　hair　gives　him　
unnatural　strength；　and　that　he　is　a　match　for　a　man。　He　is　a　
broad…faced；　bull…necked；　young　butcher；　with　rough　red　cheeks；　
an　ill…conditioned　mind；　and　an　injurious　tongue。　His　main　use　of　
this　tongue；　is；　to　disparage　Doctor　Strong’s　young　gentlemen。　He　
says；　publicly；　that　if　they　want　anything　he’ll　give　it　’em。　He　
names　individuals　among　them　（myself　included）；　whom　he　could　
undertake　to　settle　with　one　hand；　and　the　other　tied　behind　him。　

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He　waylays　the　smaller　boys　to　punch　their　unprotected　heads；　
and　calls　challenges　after　me　in　the　open　streets。　For　these　
sufficient　reasons　I　resolve　to　fight　the　butcher。　

It　is　a　summer　evening；　down　in　a　green　hollow；　at　the　corner　of　
a　wall。　I　meet　the　butcher　by　appointment。　I　am　attended　by　a　
select　body　of　our　boys；　the　butcher；　by　two　other　butchers；　a　
young　publican；　and　a　sweep。　The　preliminaries　are　adjusted；　and　
the　butcher　and　myself　stand　face　to　face。　In　a　moment　the　
butcher　lights　ten　thousand　candles　out　of　my　left　eyebrow。　In　
another　moment；　I　don’t　know　where　the　wall　is；　or　where　I　am；　or　
where　anybody　is。　I　hardly　know　which　is　myself　and　which　the　
butcher；　we　are　always　in　such　a　tangle　and　tussle；　knocking　about　
upon　the　trodden　grass。　Sometimes　I　see　the　butcher；　bloody　but　
confident；　sometimes　I　see　nothing；　and　sit　gasping　on　my　
second’s　knee；　sometimes　I　go　in　at　the　butcher　madly；　and　cut　my　
knuckles　open　against　his　face；　without　appearing　to　discompose　
him　at　all。　At　last　I　awake；　very　queer　about　the　head；　as　from　a　
giddy　sleep；　and　see　the　butcher　walking　off；　congratulated　by　the　
two　other　butchers　and　the　sweep　and　publican；　and　putting　on　
his　coat　as　he　goes；　from　which　I　augur；　justly；　that　the　victory　is　
his。　

I　am　taken　home　in　a　sad　plight；　and　I　have　beef…steaks　put　to　
my　eyes；　and　am　rubbed　with　vinegar　and　brandy；　and　find　a　great　
puffy　place　bursting　out　on　my　upper　lip；　which　swells　
immoderately。　For　three　or　four　days　I　remain　at　home；　a　very　ill…
looking　subject；　with　a　green　shade　over　my　eyes；　and　I　should　be　
very　dull；　but　that　Agnes　is　a　sister　to　me；　and　condoles　with　me；　
and　reads　to　me；　and　makes　the　time　light　and　happy。　Agnes　has　
my　confidence　completely；　always；　I　tell　her　all　about　the　butcher；　

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David　Copperfield　

and　the　wrongs　he　has　heaped　upon　me；　she　thinks　I　couldn’t　have　
done　otherwise　than　fight　the　butcher；　while　she　shrinks　and　
trembles　at　my　having　fought　him。　

Time　has　stolen　on　unobserved；　for　Adams　is　not　the　head…boy　
in　the　days　that　are　come　now；　nor　has　he　been　this　many　and　
many　a　day。　Adams　has　left　the　school　so　long；　that　when　he　comes　
back；　on　a　visit　to　Doctor　Strong；　there　are　not　many　there；　besides　
myself；　who　know　him。　Adams　is　going　to　be　called　to　the　bar　
almost　directly；　and　is　to　be　an　advocate；　and　to　wear　a　wig。　I　am　
surprised　to　find　him　a　meeker　man　than　I　had　thought；　and　less　
imposing　in　appearance。　He　has　not　staggered　the　world　yet；　
either；　for　it　goes　on　（as　well　as　I　can　make　out）　pretty　much　the　
same　as　if　he　had　never　joined　it。　

A　blank；　through　which　the　warriors　of　poetry　and　history　
march　on　in　stately　hosts　that　seem　to　have　no　end—and　what　
comes　next！　I　am　the　head…boy；　now！　I　look　down　on　the　line　of　
boys　below　me；　with　a　condescending　interest　in　such　of　them　as　
bring　to　my　mind　the　boy　I　was　myself；　when　I　first　came　there。　
That　little　fellow　seems　to　be　no　part　of　me；　I　remember　him　as　
something　left　behind　upon　the　road　of　life—as　something　I　have　
passed；　rather　than　have　actually　been—and　almost　think　of　him　
as　of　someone　else。　

And　the　little　girl　I　saw　on　that　first　day　at　Mr。　Wickfield’s；　
where　is　she？　Gone　also。　In　her　stead；　the　perfect　likeness　of　the　
picture；　a　child　likeness　no　more；　moves　about　the　house；　and　
Agnes—my　sweet　sister；　as　I　call　her　in　my　thoughts；　my　
counsellor　and　friend；　the　better　angel　of　the　lives　of　all　who　come　
within　her　calm；　good；　self…denying　influence—is　quite　a　woman。　

What　other　changes　have　come　upon　me；　besides　the　changes　

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in　my　growth　and　looks；　and　in　the　knowledge　I　have　garnered　all　
this　while？　I　wear　a　gold　watch　and　chain；　a　ring　upon　my　little　
finger；　and　a　long…tailed　coat；　and　I　use　a　great　deal　of　bear’s　
grease—which；　taken　in　conjunction　with　the　ring；　looks　bad。　Am　I　
in　love　again？　I　am。　I　worship　the　eldest　Miss　Larkins。　

The　eldest　Miss　Larkins　is　not　a　little　girl。　She　is　a　tall；　dark；　
black…eyed；　fine　figure　of　a　woman。　The　eldest　Miss　Larkins　is　not　
a　chicken；　for　the　youngest　Miss　Larkins　is　not　that；　and　the　eldest　
must　be　three　or　four　years　older。　Perhaps　the　eldest　Miss　Larkins　
may　be　about　thirty。　My　passion　for　her　is　beyond　all　bounds。　

The　eldest　Miss　Larkins　knows　officers。　It　is　an　awful　thing　to　
bear。　I　see　them　speaking　to　her　in　the　street。　I　see　them　cross　the　
way　to　meet　her；　when　her　bonnet　（she　has　a　bright　taste　in　
bonnets）　is　seen　coming　down　the　pavement；　accompanied　by　her　
sister’s　bonnet。　She　laughs　and　talks；　and　seems　to　like　it。　I　spend　
a　good　deal　of　my　own　spare　time　in　walking　up　and　down　to　meet　
her。　If　I　can　bow　to　her　once　in　the　day　（I　know　her　to　bow　to；　
knowing　Mr。　Larkins）；　I　am　happier。　I　deserve　a　bow　now　and　
then。　The　raging　agonies　I　suffer　on　the　night　of　the　Race　Ball；　
where　I　know　the　eldest　Miss　Larkins　will　be　dancing　with　the　
military；　ought　to　have　some　compensation；　if　there　be　evenhanded　justice　in　the　world。　

My　passion　takes　away　my　appetite；　and　makes　me　wear　my　
newest　silk　neckerchief　continually。　I　have　no　relief　but　in　putting　
on　my　best　clothes；　and　having　my　boots　cleaned　over　and　over　
again。　I　seem；　then；　to　be　worthier　of　the　eldest　Miss　Larkins。　
Everything　that　belongs　to　her；　or　is　connected　with　her；　is　
precious　to　me。　Mr。　Larkins　（a　gruff　old　gentleman　with　a　double　
chin；　and　one　of　his　eyes　immovable　in　his　head）　is　fraught　with　

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David　Copperfield　

interest　to　me。　When　I　can’t　meet　his　daughter；　I　go　where　I　am　
likely　to　meet　him。　To　say　‘How　do　you　do；　Mr。　Larkins？　Are　the　
young　ladies　and　all　the　family　quite　well？’　seems　so　pointed；　that