david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第103章

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never　be　agreeable。　I　do　not　expect　that　you；　who　always　rebelled　
against　my　just　authority；　exerted　for　your　benefit　and　
reformation；　should　owe　me　any　good…will　now。　There　is　an　
antipathy　between　us—’　

‘An　old　one；　I　believe？’　said　I；　interrupting　him。　

He　smiled；　and　shot　as　evil　a　glance　at　me　as　could　come　from　
his　dark　eyes。　

‘It　rankled　in　your　baby　breast；’　he　said。　‘It　embittered　the　life　of　
your　poor　mother。　You　are　right。　I　hope　you　may　do　better；　yet；　I　
hope　you　may　correct　yourself。’　

Here　he　ended　the　dialogue；　which　had　been　carried　on　in　a　low　
voice；　in　a　corner　of　the　outer　office；　by　passing　into　Mr。　Spenlow’s　
room；　and　saying　aloud；　in　his　smoothest　manner：　

‘Gentlemen　of　Mr。　Spenlow’s　profession　are　accustomed　to　
family　differences；　and　know　how　complicated　and　difficult　they　
always　are！’　With　that；　he　paid　the　money　for　his　licence；　and；　
receiving　it　neatly　folded　from　Mr。　Spenlow；　together　with　a　shake　
of　the　hand；　and　a　polite　wish　for　his　happiness　and　the　lady’s；　
went　out　of　the　office。　

I　might　have　had　more　difficulty　in　constraining　myself　to　be　

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silent　under　his　words；　if　I　had　had　less　difficulty　in　impressing　
upon　Peggotty　（who　was　only　angry　on　my　account；　good　
creature！）　that　we　were　not　in　a　place　for　recrimination；　and　that　I　
besought　her　to　hold　her　peace。　She　was　so　unusually　roused；　that　
I　was　glad　to　compound　for　an　affectionate　hug；　elicited　by　this　
revival　in　her　mind　of　our　old　injuries；　and　to　make　the　best　I　
could　of　it；　before　Mr。　Spenlow　and　the　clerks。　

Mr。　Spenlow　did　not　appear　to　know　what　the　connexion　
between　Mr。　Murdstone　and　myself　was；　which　I　was　glad　of；　for　I　
could　not　bear　to　acknowledge　him；　even　in　my　own　breast；　
remembering　what　I　did　of　the　history　of　my　poor　mother。　Mr。　
Spenlow　seemed　to　think；　if　he　thought　anything　about　the　matter；　
that　my　aunt　was　the　leader　of　the　state　party　in　our　family；　and　
that　there　was　a　rebel　party　commanded　by　somebody　else—so　I　
gathered　at　least　from　what　he　said；　while　we　were　waiting　for　Mr。　
Tiffey　to　make　out　Peggotty’s　bill　of　costs。　

‘Miss　Trotwood；’　he　remarked；　‘is　very　firm；　no　doubt；　and　not　
likely　to　give　way　to　opposition。　I　have　an　admiration　for　her　
character；　and　I　may　congratulate　you；　Copperfield；　on　being　on　
the　right　side。　Differences　between　relations　are　much　to　be　
deplored—but　they　are　extremely　general—and　the　great　thing　is；　
to　be　on　the　right　side’：　meaning；　I　take　it；　on　the　side　of　the　
moneyed　interest。　

‘Rather　a　good　marriage　this；　I　believe？’　said　Mr。　Spenlow。　

I　explained　that　I　knew　nothing　about　it。　

‘Indeed！’　he　said。　‘Speaking　from　the　few　words　Mr。　Murdstone　
dropped—as　a　man　frequently　does　on　these　occasions—and　from　
what　Miss　Murdstone　let　fall；　I　should　say　it　was　rather　a　good　
marriage。’　

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‘Do　you　mean　that　there　is　money；　sir？’　I　asked。　

‘Yes；’　said　Mr。　Spenlow；　‘I　understand　there’s　money。　Beauty　
too；　I　am　told。’　

‘Indeed！　Is　his　new　wife　young？’　

‘Just　of　age；’　said　Mr。　Spenlow。　‘So　lately；　that　I　should　think　
they　had　been　waiting　for　that。’　

‘Lord　deliver　her！’　said　Peggotty。　So　very　emphatically　and　
unexpectedly；　that　we　were　all　three　discomposed；　until　Tiffey　
came　in　with　the　bill。　

Old　Tiffey　soon　appeared；　however；　and　handed　it　to　Mr。　
Spenlow；　to　look　over。　Mr。　Spenlow；　settling　his　chin　in　his　cravat　
and　rubbing　it　softly；　went　over　the　items　with　a　deprecatory　air—　
as　if　it　were　all　Jorkins’s　doing—and　handed　it　back　to　Tiffey　with　
a　bland　sigh。　

‘Yes；’　he　said。　‘That’s　right。　Quite　right。　I　should　have　been　
extremely　happy；　Copperfield；　to　have　limited　these　charges　to　the　
actual　expenditure　out　of　pocket；　but　it　is　an　irksome　incident　in　
my　professional　life；　that　I　am　not　at　liberty　to　consult　my　own　
wishes。　I　have　a　partner—Mr。　Jorkins。’　

As　he　said　this　with　a　gentle　melancholy；　which　was　the　next　
thing　to　making　no　charge　at　all；　I　expressed　my　
acknowledgements　on　Peggotty’s　behalf；　and　paid　Tiffey　in　
banknotes。　Peggotty　then　retired　to　her　lodging；　and　Mr。　Spenlow　
and　I　went　into　Court；　where　we　had　a　divorce…suit　coming　on；　
under　an　ingenious　little　statute　（repealed　now；　I　believe；　but　in　
virtue　of　which　I　have　seen　several　marriages　annulled）；　of　which　
the　merits　were　these。　The　husband；　whose　name　was　Thomas　
Benjamin；　had　taken　out　his　marriage　licence　as　Thomas　only；　
suppressing　the　Benjamin；　in　case　he　should　not　find　himself　as　

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comfortable　as　he　expected。　Not　finding　himself　as　comfortable　as　
he　expected；　or　being　a　little　fatigued　with　his　wife；　poor　fellow；　he　
now　came　forward；　by　a　friend；　after　being　married　a　year　or　two；　
and　declared　that　his　name　was　Thomas　Benjamin；　and　therefore　
he　was　not　married　at　all。　Which　the　Court　confirmed；　to　his　great　
satisfaction。　

I　must　say　that　I　had　my　doubts　about　the　strict　justice　of　this；　
and　was　not　even　frightened　out　of　them　by　the　bushel　of　wheat　
which　reconciles　all　anomalies。　But　Mr。　Spenlow　argued　the　
matter　with　me。　He　said；　Look　at　the　world；　there　was　good　and　
evil　in　that；　look　at　the　ecclesiastical　law；　there　was　good　and　evil　
in　that。　It　was　all　part　of　a　system。　Very　good。　There　you　were！　

I　had　not　the　hardihood　to　suggest　to　Dora’s　father　that　possibly　
we　might　even　improve　the　world　a　little；　if　we　got　up　early　in　the　
morning；　and　took　off　our　coats　to　the　work；　but　I　confessed　that　I　
thought　we　might　improve　the　Commons。　Mr。　Spenlow　replied　
that　he　would　particularly　advise　me　to　dismiss　that　idea　from　my　
mind；　as　not　being　worthy　of　my　gentlemanly　character；　but　that　
he　would　be　glad　to　hear　from　me　of　what　improvement　I　thought　
the　Commons　susceptible？　

Taking　that　part　of　the　Commons　which　happened　to　be　nearest　
to　us—for　our　man　was　unmarried　by　this　time；　and　we　were　out　
of　Court；　and　strolling　past　the　Prerogative　Office—I　submitted　
that　I　thought　the　Prerogative　Office　rather　a　queerly　managed　
institution。　Mr。　Spenlow　inquired　in　what　respect？　I　replied；　with　
all　due　deference　to　his　experience　（but　with　more　deference；　I　am　
afraid；　to　his　being　Dora’s　father）；　that　perhaps　it　was　a　little　
nonsensical　that　the　Registry　of　that　Court；　containing　the　original　
wills　of　all　persons　leaving　effects　within　the　immense　province　of　

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Canterbury；　for　three　whole　centuries；　should　be　an　accidental　
building；　never　designed　for　the　purpose；　leased　by　the　registrars　
for　their　Own　private　emolument；　unsafe；　not　even　ascertained　to　
be　fire…proof；　choked　with　the　important　documents　it　held；　and　
positively；　from　the　roof　to　the　basement；　a　mercenary　speculation　
of　the　registrars；　who　took　great　fees　from　the　public；　and　
crammed　the　public’s　wills　away　anyhow　and　anywhere；　having　no　
other　object　than　to　get　rid　of　them　cheaply。　That；　perhaps；　it　was　
a　little　unreasonable　that　these　registrars　in　the　receipt　of　profits　
amounting　to　eight　or　nine　thousand　pounds　a　year　（to　say　nothing　
of　the　profits　of　the　deputy　registrars；　and　clerks　of　seats）；　should　
not　be　obliged　to　spend　a　little　of　that　money；　in　finding　a　
reasonably　safe　place　for　the　important　documents　which　all　
classes　of　people　were　compelled　to　hand　over　to　them；　whether　
they　would　or　no。　That；　perhaps；　it　was　a　little　unjust；　that　all　the　
great　offices　in　this　great　office　should　be　magnificent　sinecures；　
while　the　unfortunate　working…clerks　in　the　cold　dark　room　
upstairs　were　the　worst　rewarded；　and　the　least　considered　men；　
doing　important　services；　in　London。　That　perhaps　it　was　a　little　
indecent　that　the　principal　registrar　of　all；　whose　duty　it　was　to　
find　the　public；　constantly　resorting　to　this　place；　all　needful　
accommodation；　should　be　an　enormous　sinecurist　in　virtue　of　
that　post　（and　might　be；　besides；　a　clergyman；　a　pluralist；　the　
holder　of　a　staff　in　a　cathedral；　and　what　not）；—while　the　public　
was　put　to　the　inconvenience　of　which　we　had　a　specimen　every　
afternoon　when　the　office　was　busy；　and　which　we　knew　to　be　
quite　monstrous。　That；　perhaps；　in　short；　this　Prerogative　Office　of　
the　diocese　of　Canterbury　was　altogether　such　a　pestilent　job；　and　
such　a　pernicious　absurdity；　that　but　for　its　being　squeezed　away　

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in　a　corner　of　St。　Paul’s　Churchyard；　which　few　people　knew；　it　
must　have　been　turned　completely　inside　out；　and　upside　down；　
long　ago。　

Mr。　Spenlow　smiled　as　I　became　modestly　warm　on　the　subject；　
and　then　argued　this　question　with　me　as　he　had　argued　the　other。　
He　said；　what　was　it　after　all？　It　was　a　question　of　feeling。　If　the　
public　felt　that　their　wills　were　in　safe　keeping；　and　took　it　for　
granted　that　the　office　was　not　to　be　made　better；　who　was　the　
worse　for　it？　Nobody。　Who　was　the　better　for　it？　All　the　
Sinecurists。　Very　well。　Then　the　good　predominated。　It　might　not　
be　a　perfect　system；　nothing　was　perfect；　but　what　he　objected　to；　
was；　the　insertion　of　the　wedge。　Under　the　Prerogative　Office；　the　
country　had　been　glorious。　Insert　the　wedge　into　the　Prerogative　
Office；　and　the　country　would　cease　to　be　glorious。　He　considered　
it　the　principle　of　a　gentleman　to　take　things　as　he　found　them；　
and　he　had　no　doubt　the　Prerogative　Office　would　last　our　time。　I　
deferred　to　his　opinion；　though　I　had　great　doubts　of　it　myself。　I　
find　he　was　right；　however；　for　it　has　not　only　lasted　to　the　present　
moment；　but　has　done　so　in　the　teeth　of　a　great　parliamentary　
report　made　（not　too　willingly）　eighteen　years　ago；　when　all　these　
objections　of　mine　were　set　forth　in　detail；　and　when　the　existing　
stowage　for　wills　was　described　as　equal　to　the　accumulation　of　
only　two　years　and　a　half　more。　What　they　have　done　with　them　
since；　whether　they　have　lost　many；　or　whether　they　sell　any；　now　
and　then；　to　the　butter　shops；　I　don’t　know。　I　am　glad　mine　is　not　
there；　and　I　hope　it　may　not　go　there；　yet　awhile。　

I　have　set　all　this　down；　in　my　present　blissful　chapter；　because　
here　it　comes　into　its　natural　place。　Mr。　Spenlow　and　I　falling　into　
this　conversation；　prolonged　it　and　our　saunter　to　and　fro；　until　we　

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diverged　into　general　topics。　And　so　it　came　about；　in　the　end；　that　
Mr。　Spenlow　told　me　this　day　week　was　Dora’s　birthday；　and　he　
would　be　glad　if　I　would　come　down　and　join　a　little　picnic　on　the　
occasion。　I　went　out　of　my　senses　immediately；　became　a　mere　
driveller　next　day；　on　receipt　of　a　little　lace…edged　sheet　of　notepaper；　‘Favoured　by　papa。　To　remind’；　and　passed　the　intervening　
period　in　a　state　of　dotage。　

I　think　I　committed　every　possible　absurdity　in　the　way　of　
preparation　for　this　blessed　event。　I　turn　hot　when　I　remember　the　
cravat　I　bought。　My　boots　might　be　placed　in　any　collection　of　
instruments　of　torture。　I　provided；　and　sent　down　by