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little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第19部分

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we can't fall; and what have we found? Peace。 That's the word for
it。 Peace。' With this profession of faith; the doctor; who was an old
jail…bird; and was more sodden than usual; and had the additional and
unusual stimulus of money in his pocket; returned to his associate and
chum in hoarseness; puffiness; red…facedness; all…fours; tobacco; dirt;
and brandy。

Now; the debtor was a very different man from the doctor; but he had
already begun to travel; by his opposite segment of the circle; to the
same point。 Crushed at first by his imprisonment; he had soon found a
dull relief in it。 He was under lock and key; but the lock and key that
kept him in; kept numbers of his troubles out。 If he had been a man with
strength of purpose to face those troubles and fight them; he might have
broken the  that held him; or broken his heart; but being what he
was; he languidly slipped into this smooth descent; and never more took
one step upward。

When he was relieved of the perplexed affairs that nothing would make
plain; through having them returned upon his hands by a dozen agents in
succession who could make neither beginning; middle; nor end of them or
him; he found his miserable place of refuge a quieter refuge than it
had been before。 He had unpacked the portmanteau long ago; and his elder
children now played regularly about the yard; and everybody knew the
baby; and claimed a kind of proprietorship in her。

'Why; I'm getting proud of you;' said his friend the turnkey; one day。
'You'll be the oldest inhabitant soon。 The Marshalsea wouldn't be like
the Marshalsea now; without you and your family。'

The turnkey really was proud of him。 He would mention him in laudatory
terms to new…ers; when his back was turned。 'You took notice of him;'
he would say; 'that went out of the lodge just now?'

New…er would probably answer Yes。

'Brought up as a gentleman; he was; if ever a man was。 Ed'cated at no
end of expense。 Went into the Marshal's house once to try a new piano
for him。 Played it; I understand; like one o'clock……beautiful! As to
languages……speaks anything。 We've had a Frenchman here in his time; and
it's my opinion he knowed more French than the Frenchman did。 We've had
an Italian here in his time; and he shut him up in about half a minute。
You'll find some characters behind other locks; I don't say you won't;
but if you want the top sawyer in such respects as I've mentioned; you
must e to the Marshalsea。'

When his youngest child was eight years old; his wife; who had long been
languishing away……of her own inherent weakness; not that she retained
any greater sensitiveness as to her place of abode than he did……went
upon a visit to a poor friend and old nurse in the country; and died
there。 He remained shut up in his room for a fortnight afterwards;
and an attorney's clerk; who was going through the Insolvent Court;
engrossed an address of condolence to him; which looked like a Lease;
and which all the prisoners signed。

When he appeared again he was greyer (he had soon begun to turn grey);
and the turnkey noticed that his hands went often to his trembling lips
again; as they had used to do when he first came in。

But he got pretty well over it in a month or two; and in the meantime
the children played about the yard as regularly as ever; but in black。

Then Mrs Bangham; long popular medium of munication with the outer
world; began to be infirm; and to be found oftener than usual atose
on pavements; with her basket of purchases spilt; and the change of her
clients ninepence short。 His son began to supersede Mrs Bangham; and
to execute missions in a knowing manner; and to be of the prison
prisonous; of the streets streety。

Time went on; and the turnkey began to fail。 His chest swelled; and his
legs got weak; and he was short of breath。 The well…worn wooden stool
was 'beyond him;' he plained。 He sat in an arm…chair with a cushion;
and sometimes wheezed so; for minutes together; that he couldn't turn
the key。 When he was overpowered by these fits; the debtor often turned
it for him。 'You and me;' said the turnkey; one snowy winter's night
when the lodge; with a bright fire in it; was pretty full of pany;
'is the oldest inhabitants。 I wasn't here myself above seven year before
you。 I shan't last long。 When I'm off the lock for good and all; you'll
be the Father of the Marshalsea。'

The turnkey went off the lock of this world next day。 His words were
remembered and repeated; and tradition afterwards handed down from
generation to generation……a Marshalsea generation might be calculated as
about three months……that the shabby old debtor with the soft manner and
the white hair; was the Father of the Marshalsea。

And he grew to be proud of the title。 If any impostor had arisen to
claim it; he would have shed tears in resentment of the attempt to
deprive him of his rights。 A disposition began to be perceived in him
to exaggerate the number of years he had been there; it was generally
understood that you must deduct a few from his account; he was vain; the
fleeting generations of debtors said。

All new…ers were presented to him。 He was punctilious in the exaction
of this ceremony。 The wits would perform the office of introduction with
overcharged pomp and politeness; but they could not easily overstep his
sense of its gravity。 He received them in his poor room (he disliked an
introduction in the mere yard; as informal……a thing that might happen
to anybody); with a kind of bowed…down beneficence。 They were wele to
the Marshalsea; he would tell them。 Yes; he was the Father of the place。
So the world was kind enough to call him; and so he was; if more than
twenty years of residence gave him a claim to the title。 It looked
small at first; but there was very good pany there……among a
mixture……necessarily a mixture……and very good air。

It became a not unusual circumstance for letters to be put under his
door at night; enclosing half…a…crown; two half…crowns; now and then at
long intervals even half…a…sovereign; for the Father of the Marshalsea。
'With the pliments of a collegian taking leave。' He received the
gifts as tributes; from admirers; to a public character。 Sometimes
these correspondents assumed facetious names; as the Brick; Bellows; Old
Gooseberry; Wideawake; Snooks; Mops; Cutaway; the Dogs…meat Man; but he
considered this in bad taste; and was always a little hurt by it。


In the fulness of time; this correspondence showing signs of wearing
out; and seeming to require an effort on the part of the correspondents
to which in the hurried circumstances of departure many of them might
not be equal; he established the custom of attending collegians of
a certain standing; to the gate; and taking leave of them there。 The
collegian under treatment; after shaking hands; would occasionally
stop to wrap up something in a bit of paper; and would e back again
calling 'Hi!'

He would look round surprised。'Me?' he would say; with a smile。 By
this time the collegian would be up with him; and he would paternally
add;'What have you forgotten? What can I do for you?'

'I forgot to leave this;' the collegian would usually return; 'for the
Father of the Marshalsea。'

'My good sir;' he would rejoin; 'he is infinitely obliged to you。' But;
to the last; the irresolute hand of old would remain in the pocket into
which he had slipped the money during two or three turns about the yard;
lest the transaction should be too conspicuous to the general body of
collegians。

One afternoon he had been doing the honours of the place to a rather
large party of collegians; who happened to be going out; when; as he was
ing back; he encountered one from the poor side who had been taken in
execution for a small sum a week before; had 'settled' in the course of
that afternoon; and was going out too。 The man was a mere Plasterer in
his working dress; had his wife with him; and a bundle; and was in high
spirits。

'God bless you; sir;' he said in passing。

'And you;' benignantly returned the Father of the Marshalsea。

They were pretty far divided; going their several ways; when the
Plasterer called out; 'I say!……sir!' and came back to him。

'It ain't 
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