david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第84章

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the　breakfast…parlour。　He　described　it　as　an　apartment　of　the　most　
sumptuous　nature；　and　said　that　he　had　drunk　brown　East　India　
sherry　there；　of　a　quality　so　precious　as　to　make　a　man　wink。　We　
had　an　adjourned　cause　in　the　Consistory　that　day—about　
excommunicating　a　baker　who　had　been　objecting　in　a　vestry　to　a　
paving…rate—and　as　the　evidence　was　just　twice　the　length　of　
Robinson　Crusoe；　according　to　a　calculation　I　made；　it　was　rather　
late　in　the　day　before　we　finished。　However；　we　got　him　
excommunicated　for　six　weeks；　and　sentenced　in　no　end　of　costs；　
and　then　the　baker’s　proctor；　and　the　judge；　and　the　advocates　on　
both　sides　（who　were　all　nearly　related）；　went　out　of　town　together；　
and　Mr。　Spenlow　and　I　drove　away　in　the　phaeton。　

The　phaeton　was　a　very　handsome　affair；　the　horses　arched　
their　necks　and　lifted　up　their　legs　as　if　they　knew　they　belonged　
to　Doctors’　Commons。　There　was　a　good　deal　of　competition　in　the　

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David　Copperfield　

Commons　on　all　points　of　display；　and　it　turned　out　some　very　
choice　equipages　then；　though　I　always　have　considered；　and　
always　shall　consider；　that　in　my　time　the　great　article　of　
competition　there　was　starch：　which　I　think　was　worn　among　the　
proctors　to　as　great　an　extent　as　it　is　in　the　nature　of　man　to　bear。　

We　were　very　pleasant；　going　down；　and　Mr。　Spenlow　gave　me　
some　hints　in　reference　to　my　profession。　He　said　it　was　the　
genteelest　profession　in　the　world；　and　must　on　no　account　be　
confounded　with　the　profession　of　a　solicitor：　being　quite　another　
sort　of　thing；　infinitely　more　exclusive；　less　mechanical；　and　more　
profitable。　We　took　things　much　more　easily　in　the　Commons　than　
they　could　be　taken　anywhere　else；　he　observed；　and　that　set　us；　as　
a　privileged　class；　apart。　He　said　it　was　impossible　to　conceal　the　
disagreeable　fact；　that　we　were　chiefly　employed　by　solicitors；　but　
he　gave　me　to　understand　that　they　were　an　inferior　race　of　men；　
universally　looked　down　upon　by　all　proctors　of　any　pretensions。　

I　asked　Mr。　Spenlow　what　he　considered　the　best　sort　of　
professional　business？　He　replied；　that　a　good　case　of　a　disputed　
will；　where　there　was　a　neat　little　estate　of　thirty　or　forty　thousand　
pounds；　was；　perhaps；　the　best　of　all。　In　such　a　case；　he　said；　not　
only　were　there　very　pretty　pickings；　in　the　way　of　arguments　at　
every　stage　of　the　proceedings；　and　mountains　upon　mountains　of　
evidence　on　interrogatory　and　counter…interrogatory　（to　say　
nothing　of　an　appeal　lying；　first　to　the　Delegates；　and　then　to　the　
Lords）；　but；　the　costs　being　pretty　sure　to　come　out　of　the　estate　at　
last；　both　sides　went　at　it　in　a　lively　and　spirited　manner；　and　
expense　was　no　consideration。　Then；　he　launched　into　a　general　
eulogium　on　the　Commons。　What　was　to　be　particularly　admired　
（he　said）　in　the　Commons；　was　its　compactness。　It　was　the　most　

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conveniently　organized　place　in　the　world。　It　was　the　complete　
idea　of　snugness。　It　lay　in　a　nutshell。　For　example：　You　brought　a　
divorce　case；　or　a　restitution　case；　into　the　Consistory。　Very　good。　
You　tried　it　in　the　Consistory。　You　made　a　quiet　little　round　game　
of　it；　among　a　family　group；　and　you　played　it　out　at　leisure。　
Suppose　you　were　not　satisfied　with　the　Consistory；　what　did　you　
do　then？　Why；　you　went　into　the　Arches。　What　was　the　Arches？　
The　same　court；　in　the　same　room；　with　the　same　bar；　and　the　
same　practitioners；　but　another　judge；　for　there　the　Consistory　
judge　could　plead　any　court…day　as　an　advocate。　Well；　you　played　
your　round　game　out　again。　Still　you　were　not　satisfied。　Very　good。　
What　did　you　do　then？　Why；　you　went　to　the　Delegates。　Who　were　
the　Delegates？　Why；　the　Ecclesiastical　Delegates　were　the　
advocates　without　any　business；　who　had　looked　on　at　the　round　
game　when　it　was　playing　in　both　courts；　and　had　seen　the　cards　
shuffled；　and　cut；　and　played；　and　had　talked　to　all　the　players　
about　it；　and　now　came　fresh；　as　judges；　to　settle　the　matter　to　the　
satisfaction　of　everybody！　Discontented　people　might　talk　of　
corruption　in　the　Commons；　closeness　in　the　Commons；　and　the　
necessity　of　reforming　the　Commons；　said　Mr。　Spenlow　solemnly；　
in　conclusion；　but　when　the　price　of　wheat　per　bushel　had　been　
highest；　the　Commons　had　been　busiest；　and　a　man　might　lay　his　
hand　upon　his　heart；　and　say　this　to　the　whole　world；—‘Touch　the　
Commons；　and　down　comes　the　country！’　

I　listened　to　all　this　with　attention；　and　though；　I　must　say；　I　had　
my　doubts　whether　the　country　was　quite　as　much　obliged　to　the　
Commons　as　Mr。　Spenlow　made　out；　I　respectfully　deferred　to　his　
opinion。　That　about　the　price　of　wheat　per　bushel；　I　modestly　felt　
was　too　much　for　my　strength；　and　quite　settled　the　question。　I　

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have　never；　to　this　hour；　got　the　better　of　that　bushel　of　wheat。　It　
has　reappeared　to　annihilate　me；　all　through　my　life；　in　connexion　
with　all　kinds　of　subjects。　I　don’t　know　now；　exactly；　what　it　has　to　
do　with　me；　or　what　right　it　has　to　crush　me；　on　an　infinite　variety　
of　occasions；　but　whenever　I　see　my　old　friend　the　bushel　brought　
in　by　the　head　and　shoulders　（as　he　always　is；　I　observe）；　I　give　up　
a　subject　for　lost。　

This　is　a　digression。　I　was　not　the　man　to　touch　the　Commons；　
and　bring　down　the　country。　I　submissively　expressed；　by　my　
silence；　my　acquiescence　in　all　I　had　heard　from　my　superior　in　
years　and　knowledge；　and　we　talked　about　“The　Stranger”　and　the　
Drama；　and　the　pairs　of　horses；　until　we　came　to　Mr。　Spenlow’s　
gate。　

There　was　a　lovely　garden　to　Mr。　Spenlow’s　house；　and　though　
that　was　not　the　best　time　of　the　year　for　seeing　a　garden；　it　was　so　
beautifully　kept；　that　I　was　quite　enchanted。　There　was　a　
charming　lawn；　there　were　clusters　of　trees；　and　there　were　
perspective　walks　that　I　could　just　distinguish　in　the　dark；　arched　
over　with　trellis…work；　on　which　shrubs　and　flowers　grew　in　the　
growing　season。　‘Here　Miss　Spenlow　walks　by　herself；’　I　thought。　
‘Dear　me！’　

We　went　into　the　house；　which　was　cheerfully　lighted　up；　and　
into　a　hall　where　there　were　all　sorts　of　hats；　caps；　great…coats；　
plaids；　gloves；　whips；　and　walking…sticks。　‘Where　is　Miss　Dora？’　
said　Mr。　Spenlow　to　the　servant。　‘Dora！’　I　thought。　‘What　a　
beautiful　name！’　

We　turned　into　a　room　near　at　hand　（I　think　it　was　the　identical　
breakfast…room；　made　memorable　by　the　brown　East　Indian　
sherry）；　and　I　heard　a　voice　say；　‘Mr。　Copperfield；　my　daughter　

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Dora；　and　my　daughter　Dora’s　confidential　friend！’　It　was；　no　
doubt；　Mr。　Spenlow’s　voice；　but　I　didn’t　know　it；　and　I　didn’t　care　
whose　it　was。　All　was　over　in　a　moment。　I　had　fulfilled　my　destiny。　
I　was　a　captive　and　a　slave。　I　loved　Dora　Spenlow　to　distraction！　

She　was　more　than　human　to　me。　She　was　a　Fairy；　a　Sylph；　I　
don’t　know　what　she　was—anything　that　no　one　ever　saw；　and　
everything　that　everybody　ever　wanted。　I　was　swallowed　up　in　an　
abyss　of　love　in　an　instant。　There　was　no　pausing　on　the　brink；　no　
looking　down；　or　looking　back；　I　was　gone；　headlong；　before　I　had　
sense　to　say　a　word　to　her。　

‘I；’　observed　a　well…remembered　voice；　when　I　had　bowed　and　
murmured　something；　‘have　seen　Mr。　Copperfield　before。’　

The　speaker　was　not　Dora。　No；　the　confidential　friend；　Miss　
Murdstone！　

I　don’t　think　I　was　much　astonished。　To　the　best　of　my　
judgement；　no　capacity　of　astonishment　was　left　in　me。　There　was　
nothing　worth　mentioning　in　the　material　world；　but　Dora　
Spenlow；　to　be　astonished　about。　I　said；　‘How　do　you　do；　Miss　
Murdstone？　I　hope　you　are　well。’　She　answered；　‘Very　well。’　I　said；　
‘How　is　Mr。　Murdstone？’　She　replied；　‘My　brother　is　robust；　I　am　
obliged　to　you。’　

Mr。　Spenlow；　who；　I　suppose；　had　been　surprised　to　see　us　
recognize　each　other；　then　put　in　his　word。　

‘I　am　glad　to　find；’　he　said；　‘Copperfield；　that　you　and　Miss　
Murdstone　are　already　acquainted。’　

‘Mr。　Copperfield　and　myself；’　said　Miss　Murdstone；　with　severe　
composure；　‘are　connexions。　We　were　once　slightly　acquainted。　It　
was　in　his　childish　days。　Circumstances　have　separated　us　since。　I　
should　not　have　known　him。’　

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I　replied　that　I　should　have　known　her；　anywhere。　Which　was　
true　enough。　

‘Miss　Murdstone　has　had　the　goodness；’　said　Mr。　Spenlow　to　
me；　‘to　accept　the　office—if　I　may　so　describe　it—of　my　daughter　
Dora’s　confidential　friend。　My　daughter　Dora　having；　unhappily；　
no　mother；　Miss　Murdstone　is　obliging　enough　to　become　her　
companion　and　protector。’　

A　passing　thought　occurred　to　me　that　Miss　Murdstone；　like　the　
pocket　instrument　called　a　life…preserver；　was　not　so　much　
designed　for　purposes　of　protection　as　of　assault。　But　as　I　had　
none　but　passing　thoughts　for　any　subject　save　Dora；　I　glanced　at　
her；　directly　afterwards；　and　was　thinking　that　I　saw；　in　her　
prettily　pettish　manner；　that　she　was　not　very　much　inclined　to　be　
particularly　confidential　to　her　companion　and　protector；　when　a　
bell　rang；　which　Mr。　Spenlow　said　was　the　first　dinner…bell；　and　so　
carried　me　off　to　dress。　

The　idea　of　dressing　one’s　self；　or　doing　anything　in　the　way　of　
action；　in　that　state　of　love；　was　a　little　too　ridiculous。　I　could　only　
sit　down　before　my　fire；　biting　the　key　of　my　carpet…bag；　and　think　
of　the　captivating；　girlish；　bright…eyed　lovely　Dora。　What　a　form　
she　had；　what　a　face　she　had；　what　a　graceful；　variable；　enchanting　
manner！　

The　bell　rang　again　so　soon　that　I　made　a　mere　scramble　of　my　
dressing；　instead　of　the　careful　operation　I　could　have　wished　
under　the　circumstances；　and　went　downstairs。　There　was　some　
company。　Dora　was　talking　to　an　old　gentleman　with　a　grey　head。　
Grey　as　he　was—and　a　great…grandfather　into　the　bargain；　for　he　
said　so—I　was　madly　jealous　of　him。　

What　a　state　of　mind　I　was　in！　I　was　jealous　of　everybody。　I　

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couldn’t　bear　the　idea　of　anybody　knowing　Mr。　Spenlow　better　
than　I　did。　It　was　torturing　to　me　to　hear　them　talk　of　occurrences　
in　which　I　had　had　no　share。　When　a　most　amiable　person；　with　a　
highly　polished　bald　head；　asked　me　across　the　dinner　table；　if　that　
were　the　first　occasion　of　my　seeing　the　grounds；　I　could　have　
done　anything　to　him　that　was　savage　and　revengeful。　

I　don’t　remember　who　was　there；　except　Dora。　I　have　not　the　
least　idea　what　we　had　for　dinner；　besides　Dora。　My　impression　is；　
that　I　dined　off　Dora；　entirely；　and　sent　away　half…a…dozen　plates　
untouched。　I　sat　next　to　her。　I　talked　to　her。　She　had　the　most　
delightful　little　voice；　the　gayest　little　laugh；　the　pleasantest　and　
most　fascinating　little　ways；　that　ever　led　a　lost　youth　into　hopeless　
slavery。　She　was　rather　diminutive　altogether。　So　much　the　more　
precious；　I　thought。　

When　she　went　out　of　the　room　with　Miss　Murdstone　（no　other　
ladies　were　of　the　party）；　I　fell　into　a