little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第165部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

hat；　and；　with　singular　smartness　and　precision；　shot　it　off　the
polished　head　as　if　it　had　been　a　large　marble。

Having　taken　this　little　liberty　with　the　Patriarchal　person；　Mr　Pancks
further　astounded　and　attracted　the　Bleeding　Hearts　by　saying　in　an
audible　voice；　'Now；　you　sugary　swindler；　I　mean　to　have　it　out　with
you！'

Mr　Pancks　and　the　Patriarch　were　instantly　the　centre　of　a　press；　all
eyes　and　ears；　windows　were　thrown　open；　and　door…steps　were　thronged。

'What　do　you　pretend　to　be？'　said　Mr　Pancks。　'What's　your　moral　game？
What　do　you　go　in　for？　Benevolence；　an't　it？　You　benevolent！'　Here　Mr
Pancks；　apparently　without　the　intention　of　hitting　him；　but　merely　to
relieve　his　mind　and　expend　his　superfluous　power　in　wholesome　exercise；
aimed　a　blow　at　the　bumpy　head；　which　the　bumpy　head　ducked　to
avoid。　This　singular　performance　was　repeated；　to　the　ever…increasing
admiration　of　the　spectators；　at　the　end　of　every　succeeding　article　of
Mr　Pancks's　oration。

'I　have　discharged　myself　from　your　service；'　said　Pancks；　'that　I　may
tell　you　what　you　are。　You're　one　of　a　lot　of　impostors　that　are　the
worst　lot　of　all　the　lots　to　be　met　with。　Speaking　as　a　sufferer　by
both；　I　don't　know　that　I　wouldn't　as　soon　have　the　Merdle　lot　as　your
lot。　You're　a　driver　in　disguise；　a　screwer　by　deputy；　a　wringer；　and
squeezer；　and　shaver　by　substitute。　You're　a　philanthropic　sneak。　You're
a　shabby　deceiver！'　（The　repetition　of　the　performance　at　this　point　was
received　with　a　burst　of　laughter。）

'Ask　these　good　people　who's　the　hard　man　here。　They'll　tell　you　Pancks；
I　believe。'

This　was　confirmed　with　cries　of　'Certainly；'　and　'Hear！'

'But　I　tell　you；　good　people……Casby！　This　mound　of　meekness；　this　lump
of　love；　this　bottle…green　smiler；　this　is　your　driver！'　said　Pancks。
'If　you　want　to　see　the　man　who　would　flay　you　alive……here　he　is！　Don't
look　for　him　in　me；　at　thirty　shillings　a　week；　but　look　for　him　in
Casby；　at　I　don't　know　how　much　a　year！'

'Good！'　cried　several　voices。　'Hear　Mr　Pancks！'

'Hear　Mr　Pancks？'　cried　that　gentleman　（after　repeating　the　popular
performance）。　'Yes；　I　should　think　so！　It's　almost　time　to　hear　Mr
Pancks。　Mr　Pancks　has　e　down　into　the　Yard　to…night　on　purpose　that
you　should　hear　him。　Pancks　is　only　the　Works；　but　here's　the　Winder！'

The　audience　would　have　gone　over　to　Mr　Pancks；　as　one　man；　woman；　and
child；　but　for　the　long；　grey；　silken　locks；　and　the　broad…brimmed　hat。

'Here's　the　Stop；'　said　Pancks；　'that　sets　the　tune　to　be　ground。　And
there　is　but　one　tune；　and　its　name　is　Grind；　Grind；　Grind！　Here's　the
Proprietor；　and　here's　his　Grubber。　Why；　good　people；　when　he　es
smoothly　spinning　through　the　Yard　to…night；　like　a　slow…going
benevolent　Humming…Top；　and　when　you　e　about　him　with　your　plaints
of　the　Grubber；　you　don't　know　what　a　cheat　the　Proprietor　is！　What　do
you　think　of　his　showing　himself　to…night；　that　I　may　have　all　the　blame
on　Monday？　What　do　you　think　of　his　having　had　me　over　the　coals　this
very　evening；　because　I　don't　squeeze　you　enough？　What　do　you　think　of
my　being；　at　the　present　moment；　under　special　orders　to　squeeze　you　dry
on　Monday？'

The　reply　was　given　in　a　murmur　of　'Shame！'　and　'Shabby！'

'Shabby？'　snorted　Pancks。　'Yes；　I　should　think　so！　The　lot　that　your
Casby　belongs　to；　is　the　shabbiest　of　all　the　lots。　Setting　their
Grubbers　on；　at　a　wretched　pittance；　to　do　what　they're　ashamed　and
afraid　to　do　and　pretend　not　to　do；　but　what　they　will　have　done；　or
give　a　man　no　rest！　Imposing　on　you　to　give　their　Grubbers　nothing　but
blame；　and　to　give　them　nothing　but　credit！　Why；　the　worst…looking
cheat　in　all　this　town　who　gets　the　value　of　eighteenpence　under　false
pretences；　an't　half　such　a　cheat　as　this　sign…post　of　The　Casby's　Head
here！'

Cries　of　'That's　true！'　and　'No　more　he　an't！'

'And　see　what　you　get　of　these　fellows；　besides；'　said　Pancks'　'See　what
more　you　get　of　these　precious　Humming…Tops；　revolving　among　you　with
such　smoothness　that　you've　no　idea　of　the　pattern　painted　on　'em；　or
the　little　window　in　'em。　I　wish　to　call　your　attention　to　myself　for　a
moment。　I　an't　an　agreeable　style　of　chap；　I　know　that　very　well。'

The　auditory　were　divided　on　this　point；　its　more　unpromising　members
crying；　'No；　you　are　not；'　and　its　politer　materials；　'Yes；　you　are。'

'I　am；　in　general；'　said　Mr　Pancks；　'a　dry；　unfortable；　dreary
Plodder　and　Grubber。　That's　your　humble　servant。　There's　his　full…length
portrait；　painted　by　himself　and　presented　to　you；　warranted　a　likeness！
But　what's　a　man　to　be；　with　such　a　man　as　this　for　his　Proprietor？
What　can　be　expected　of　him？　Did　anybody　ever　find　boiled　mutton　and
caper…sauce　growing　in　a　cocoa…nut？'

None　of　the　Bleeding　Hearts　ever　had；　it　was　clear　from　the　alacrity　of
their　response。

'Well；'　said　Mr　Pancks；　'and　neither　will　you　find　in　Grubbers　like
myself；　under　Proprietors　like　this；　pleasant　qualities。　I've　been　a
Grubber　from　a　boy。　What　has　my　life　been？　Fag　and　grind；　fag　and　grind；
turn　the　wheel；　turn　the　wheel！　I　haven't　been　agreeable　to　myself；
and　I　haven't　been　likely　to　be　agreeable　to　anybody　else。　If　I　was　a
shilling　a　week　less　useful　in　ten　years'　time；　this　impostor　would　give
me　a　shilling　a　week　less；　if　as　useful　a　man　could　be　got　at　sixpence
cheaper；　he　would　be　taken　in　my　place　at　sixpence　cheaper。　Bargain　and
sale；　bless　you！　Fixed　principles！　It's　a　mighty　fine　sign…post；　is　The
Casby's　Head；'　said　Mr　Pancks；　surveying　it　with　anything　rather　than
admiration；　'but　the　real　name　of　the　House　is　the　Sham's　Arms。　Its
motto　is；　Keep　the　Grubber　always　at　it。　Is　any　gentleman　present；'　said
Mr　Pancks；　breaking　off　and　looking　round；　'acquainted　with　the　English
Grammar？'

Bleeding　Heart　Yard　was　shy　of　claiming　that　acquaintance。

'It's　no　matter；'　said　Mr　Pancks；　'I　merely　wish　to　remark　that　the　task
this　Proprietor　has　set　me；　has　been　never　to　leave　off　conjugating　the
Imperative　Mood　Present　Tense　of　the　verb　To　keep　always　at　it。　Keep
thou　always　at　it。　Let　him　keep　always　at　it。　Keep　we　or　do　we　keep
always　at　it。　Keep　ye　or　do　ye　or　you　keep　always　at　it。　Let　them　keep
always　at　it。　Here　is　your　benevolent　Patriarch　of　a　Casby；　and　there　is
his　golden　rule。　He　is　unmonly　improving　to　look　at；　and　I　am　not
at　all　so。　He　is　as　sweet　as　honey；　and　I　am　as　dull　as　ditch…water。　He
provides　the　pitch；　and　I　handle　it；　and　it　sticks　to　me。　Now；'　said
Mr　Pancks；　closing　upon　his　late　Proprietor　again；　from　whom　he　had
withdrawn　a　little　for　the　better　display　of　him　to　the　Yard；　'as　I　am
not　accustomed　to　speak　in　public；　and　as　I　have　made　a　rather　lengthy
speech；　all　circumstances　considered；　I　shall　bring　my　observations　to　a
close　by　requesting　you　to　get　out　of　this。'

The　Last　of　the　Patriarchs　had　been　so　seized　by　assault；　and　required
so　much　room　to　catch　an　idea　in；　an　so　much　more　room　to　turn　it　in；
that　he　had　not　a　word　to　offer　in　reply。　He　appeared　to　be　meditating
some　Patriarchal　way　out　of　his　delicate　position；　when　Mr　Pancks；　once
more　suddenly　applying　the　trigger　to　his　hat；　shot　it　off　again　with
his　former　dexterity。　On　the　preceding　occasion；　one　or　two　of　the
Bleeding　Heart　Yarders　had　obsequiously　picked　it　up　and　handed　it　to
its　owner；　but　Mr　Pancks　had　now　so　far　impressed　his　audience；　that　the
Patriarch　had　to　turn　and　stoop　for　it　himself。

Quick　as　lightning；　Mr　Pancks；　who；　for　some　moments；　had　had　his　right
hand　in　his　coat　pocket；　whipped　out　a　pair　of　shears；　swooped　upon　the
Patriarch　behind；　and　snipped　off　short　the　sacred　locks　that　flowed
upon　his　shoulders。　In　a　paroxysm　of　animosity　and　rapidity；　Mr　Pancks
then　caught　the　broad…brimmed　hat　out　of　the　astounded　Patriarch's　hand；
cut　it　down　into　a　mere　stewpan；　and　fixed　it　on　the　Patriarch's　head。

Before　the　frightful　results　of　this　desperate　action；　Mr　Pancks　himself
recoiled　in　consternation。　A　bare…polled；　goggle…eyed；　big…headed
lumbering　personage　stood　staring　at　him；　not　in　the　least　impressive；
not　in　the　least　venerable；　who　seemed　to　have　started　out　of　the
earth　to　ask　what　was　bee　of　Casby。　After　staring　at　this　phantom　in
return；　in　silent　awe；　Mr　Pancks　threw　down　his　shears；　and　fled　for　a
place　of　hiding；　where　he　might　lie　sheltered　from　the　consequences　of
his　crime。　Mr　Pancks　deemed　it　prudent　to　use　all　possible　despatch　in
making　off；　though　he　was　pursued　by　nothing　but　the　sound　of　laughter
in　Bleeding　Heart　Yard；　rippling　through　the　air　and　making　it　ring
again。




CHAPTER　33。　Going！


The　changes　of　a　fevered　room　are　slow　and　fluctuating；　but　the　changes
of　the　fevered　world　are　rapid　and　irrevocable。

It　was　Little　Dorrit's　lot　to　wait　upon　both　kinds　of　change。　The
Marshalsea　walls；　during　a　portion　of　every　day；　again　embraced　her　in
their　shadows　as　their　child；　while　she　thought　for　Clennam；　worked　for
him；　watched　him；　and　only　left　him；　still　to　devote　her　utmost　love　and
care　to　him。　Her　part　in　the　life　outside　the　gate　urged　its　pressing
claims　upon　her　too；　and　her　patience　untiringly　responded　to　them。
Here　was　Fanny；　proud；　fitful；　whimsical；　further　advanced　in　that
disqualified　state　for　going　into　society　which　had　so　much　fretted
her　on　the　evening　of　the　tortoise…shell　knife；　resolved　always　to　want
fort；　resolved　not　to　be　forted；　resolved　to　be　deeply　wronged；
and　resolved　that　nobody　should　have　the　audacity　to　think　her　so。　Here
was　her　brother；　a　weak；　proud；　tipsy；　young　old　man；　shaking　from
head　to　foot；　talking　as　indistinctly　as　if　some　of　the　money　he　plumed
himself　upon　had　got　into　his　mouth　and　couldn't　be　got　out；　unable　to
walk　alone　in　any　act　of　his　life；　and　patronising　the　sister　whom　he
selfishly　loved　（he　always　had　that　negative　merit；　ill…starred　and
ill…launched　Tip！）　because　he　suffered　her　to　lead　him。　Here　was　Mrs
Merdle　in　gauzy　mourning……the　original　cap　whereof　had　possibly　been
rent　to　pieces　in　a　fit　of　grief；　but　had　certainly　yielded　to　a　highly
being　article　from　the　Parisian　market……warring　with　Fanny　foot　to
foot；　and　breasting　her　with　her　desolate　bosom　every　hour　in　the　day。
Here　was　poor　Mr　Sparkler；　not　knowing　how　to　keep　the　peace　between
them；　but　humbly　inclining　to　the　opinion　that　they　could　do　no　better
than　agree　that　they　were　both　remarkably　fine　women；　and　that　there　was
no　nonsense　about　either　of　them……for　which　gentle　remendation　they
united　in　falling　upon　him　frightfully。　Then；　too；　here　was　Mrs　General；
got　home　from　foreign　parts；　sending　a　Prune　and　a　Prism　by　post　every
other　day；　demanding　a　new　Testimonial　by　way　of　remendation　to　some
vacant　appointment　or　other。　Of　which　remarkable　gentlewoman　it　may　be
finally　observed；　that　there　surely　never　was　a　gentlewoman　of　whose
transcendent　fitness　for　any　vacant　appointment　on　the　face　of　this
earth；　so　many　people　were　（as　the　warmth　of　her　Testimonials　evinced）
so　perfectly　satisfied……or　who　was　so　very　unfortunate　in　having　a
large　circle　of　ardent　and　distinguished　admirers；　who　never　themselves
happened　to　want　her　in　any　capacity。

On　the　first　crash　of　the　eminent　Mr　Merdle's　decease；　many　important
persons　had　been　unable　to　determine　whether