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[Novel] 《Dombey and Son》——董贝父子（中英文对照）完结

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举报只看该作者 20楼发表于: 2013-11-03 0

Chapter 20
Mr Dombey goes upon a Journey
'Mr Dombey, Sir,' said Major Bagstock, 'Joee' B. is not in general a man of sentiment, for Joseph is tough. But Joe has his feelings, Sir, and when they are awakened - Damme, Mr Dombey,? cried the Major with sudden ferocity, 'this is weakness, and I won't submit to it)'
Major Bagstock delivered himself of these expressions on receiving Mr Dombey as his guest at the head of his own staircase in Princess's Place. Mr Dombey had come to breakfast with the Major, previous to their setting forth on their trip; and the ill-starved Native had already undergone a world of misery arising out of the muffins, while, in connexion with the general question of boiled eggs, life was a burden to him.
'It is not for an old soldier of the Bagstock breed,' observed the Major, relapsing into a mild state, 'to deliver himself up, a prey to his own emotions; but - damme, Sir,' cried the Major, in another spasm of ferocity, 'I condole with you!'
The Major's purple visage deepened in its hue, and the Major's lobster eyes stood out in bolder relief, as he shook Mr Dombey by the hand, imparting to that peaceful action as defiant a character as if it had been the prelude to his immediately boxing Mr Dombey for a thousand pounds a side and the championship of England. With a rotatory motion of his head, and a wheeze very like the cough of a horse, the Major then conducted his visitor to the sitting-room, and there welcomed him (having now composed his feelings) with the freedom and frankness ofa travelling companion.
'Dombey,' said the Major, 'I'm glad to see you. I'm proud to see you. There are not many men in Europe to whom J. Bagstock would say that - for Josh is blunt. Sir: it's his nature - but Joey B. is proud to see you, Dombey.'
'Major,' returned Mr Dombey, 'you are very obliging.'
'No, Sir,' said the Major, 'Devil a bit! That's not my character. If that had been Joe's character, Joe might have been, by this time, Lieutenant-General Sir Joseph Bagstock, K.C.B., and might have received you in very different quarters. You don't know old Joe yet, I find. But this occasion, being special, is a source of pride to me. By the Lord, Sir,' said the Major resolutely, 'it's an honour to me!'
Mr Dombey, in his estimation of himself and his money, felt that this was very true, and therefore did not dispute the point. But the instinctive recognition of such a truth by the Major, and his plain avowal of it, were very able. It was a confirmation to Mr Dombey, if he had required any, of his not being mistaken in the Major. It was an assurance to him that his power extended beyond his own immediate sphere; and that the Major, as an officer and a gentleman, had a no less becoming sense of it, than the beadle of the Royal Exchange.
And if it were ever consolatory to know this, or the like of this, it was consolatory then, when the impotence of his will, the instability of his hopes, the feebleness of wealth, had been so direfully impressed upon him. What could it do, his boy had asked him. Sometimes, thinking of the baby question, he could hardly forbear inquiring, himself, what could it do indeed: what had it done?
But these were lonely thoughts, bred late at night in the sullen despondency and gloom of his retirement, and pride easily found its reassurance in many testimonies to the truth, as unimpeachable and precious as the Major's. Mr Dombey, in his friendlessness, inclined to the Major. It cannot be said that he warmed towards him, but he thawed a little, The Major had had some part - and not too much - in the days by the seaside. He was a man of the world, and knew some great people. He talked much, and told stories; and Mr Dombey was disposed to regard him as a choice spirit who shone in society, and who had not that poisonous ingredient of poverty with which choice spirits in general are too much adulterated. His station was undeniable. Altogether the Major was a creditable companion, well accustomed to a life of leisure, and to such places as that they were about to visit, and having an air of gentlemanly ease about him that mixed well enough with his own City character, and did not compete with it at all. If Mr Dombey had any lingering idea that the Major, as a man accustomed, in the way of his calling, to make light of the ruthless hand that had lately crushed his hopes, might unconsciously impart some useful philosophy to him, and scare away his weak regrets, he hid it from himself, and left it lying at the bottom of his pride, unexamined.
'Where is my scoundrel?' said the Major, looking wrathfully round the room.
The Native, who had no particular name, but answered to any vituperative epithet, presented himself instantly at the door and ventured to come no nearer.
'You villain!' said the choleric Major, 'where's the breakfast?'
The dark servant disappeared in search of it, and was quickly heard reascending the stairs in such a tremulous state, that the plates and dishes on the tray he carried, trembling sympathetically as he came, rattled again, all the way up.
'Dombey,' said the Major, glancing at the Native as he arranged the table, and encouraging him with an awful shake of his fist when he upset a spoon, 'here is a devilled grill, a savoury pie, a dish of kidneys, and so forth. Pray sit down. Old Joe can give you nothing but camp fare, you see.
'Very excellent fare, Major,' replied his guest; and not in mere politeness either; for the Major always took the best possible care of himself, and indeed ate rather more of rich meats than was good for him, insomuch that his Imperial complexion was mainly referred by the faculty to that circumstance.
'You have been looking over the way, Sir,' observed the Major. 'Have you seen our friend?'
'You mean Miss Tox,' retorted Mr Dombey. 'No.'
'Charming woman, Sir,' said the Major, with a fat laugh rising in his short throat, and nearly suffocating him.
'Miss Tox is a very good sort of person, I believe,' replied Mr Dombey.
The haughty coldness of the reply seemed to afford Major Bagstock infinite delight. He swelled and swelled, exceedingly: and even laid down his knife and fork for a moment, to rub his hands.
'Old Joe, Sir,' said the Major, 'was a bit ofa favourite in that quarter once. But Joe has had his day. J. Bagstock is extinguished - outrivalled - floored, Sir.'
'I should have supposed,' Mr Dombey replied, 'that the lady's day for favourites was over: but perhaps you are jesting, Major.'
'Perhaps you are jesting, Dombey?' was the Major's rejoinder.
There never was a more unlikely possiblity. It was so clearly expressed in Mr Dombey's face, that the Major apologised.
'I beg your pardon,' he said. 'I see you are in earnest. I tell you what, Dombey.' The Major paused in his eating, and looked mysteriously indignant. 'That's a de-vilish ambitious woman, Sir.'
Mr Dombey said 'Indeed?' with frigid indifference: mingled perhaps with some contemptuous incredulity as to Miss Tox having the presumption to harbour such a superior quality.
'That woman, Sir,' said the Major, 'is, in her way, a Lucifer. Joey B. has had his day, Sir, but he keeps his eyes. He sees, does Joe. His Royal Highness the late Duke of York observed of Joey, at a levee, that he saw.'
The Major accompanied this with such a look, and, between eating, drinking, hot tea, devilled grill, muffins, and meaning, was altogether so swollen and inflamed about the head, that even Mr Dombey showed some anxiety for him.
'That ridiculous old spectacle, Sir,' pursued the Major, 'aspires. She aspires sky-high, Sir. Matrimonially, Dombey.'
'I am sorry for her,' said Mr Dombey.
'Don't say that, Dombey,' returned the Major in a warning voice.
'Why should I not, Major?' said Mr Dombey.
The Major gave no answer but the horse's cough, and went on eating vigorously.
'She has taken an interest in your household,' said the Major, stopping short again, 'and has been a frequent visitor at your house for some time now.'
'Yes,' replied Mr Dombey with great stateliness, 'Miss Tox was originally received there, at the time of Mrs Dombey's death, as a friend of my sister's; and being a well-behaved person, and showing a liking for the poor infant, she was permitted - may I say encouraged - to repeat her visits with my sister, and gradually to occupy a kind of footing of familiarity in the family. I have,' said Mr Dombey, in the tone of a man who was making a great and valuable concession, 'I have a respect for Miss Tox. She his been so obliging as to render many little services in my house: trifling and insignificant services perhaps, Major, but not to be disparaged on that account: and I hope I have had the good fortune to be enabled to acknowledge them by such attention and notice as it has been in my power to bestow. I hold myself indebted to Miss Tox, Major,' added Mr Dombey, with a slight wave of his hand, 'for the pleasure of your acquaintance.'
'Dombey,' said the Major, warmly: 'no! No, Sir! Joseph Bagstock can never permit that assertion to pass uncontradicted. Your knowledge of old Joe, Sir, such as he is, and old Joe's knowledge of you, Sir, had its origin in a noble fellow, Sir - in a great creature, Sir. Dombey!' said the Major, with a struggle which it was not very difficult to parade, his whole life being a struggle against all kinds of apoplectic symptoms, 'we knew each other through your boy.'
Mr Dombey seemed touched, as it is not improbable the Major designed he should be, by this allusion. He looked down and sighed: and the Major, rousing himself fiercely, again said, in reference to the state of mind into which he felt himself in danger of falling, that this was weakness, and nothing should induce him to submit to it.
'Our friend had a remote connexion with that event,' said the Major, 'and all the credit that belongs to her, J. B. is willing to give her, Sir. Notwithstanding which, Ma'am,' he added, raising his eyes from his plate, and casting them across Princess's Place, to where Miss Tox was at that moment visible at her window watering her flowers, 'you're a scheming jade, Ma'am, and your ambition is a piece of monstrous impudence. If it only made yourself ridiculous, Ma'am,' said the Major, rolling his head at the unconscious Miss Tox, while his starting eyes appeared to make a leap towards her, 'you might do that to your heart's content, Ma'am, without any objection, I assure you, on the part of Bagstock.' Here the Major laughed frightfully up in the tips of his ears and in the veins of his head. 'But when, Ma'am,' said the Major, 'you compromise other people, and generous, unsuspicious people too, as a repayment for their condescension, you stir the blood of old Joe in his body.'
'Major,' said Mr Dombey, reddening, 'I hope you do not hint at anything so absurd on the part of Miss Tox as - '
'Dombey,' returned the Major, 'I hint at nothing. But Joey B. has lived in the world, Sir: lived in the world with his eyes open, Sir, and his ears cocked: and Joe tells you, Dombey, that there's a devilish artful and ambitious woman over the way.'
Mr Dombey involuntarily glanced over the way; and an angry glance he sent in that direction, too.
'That's all on such a subject that shall pass the lips of Joseph Bagstock,' said the Major firmly. 'Joe is not a tale-bearer, but there are times when he must speak, when he will speak! - confound your arts, Ma'am,' cried the Major, again apostrophising his fair neighbour, with great ire, - 'when the provocation is too strong to admit of his remaining silent.'
The emotion of this outbreak threw the Major into a paroxysm of horse's coughs, which held him for a long time. On recovering he added:
'And now, Dombey, as you have invited Joe - old Joe, who has no other merit, Sir, but that he is tough and hearty - to be your guest and guide at Leamington, command him in any way you please, and he is wholly yours. I don't know, Sir,' said the Major, wagging his double chin with a jocose air, 'what it is you people see in Joe to make you hold him in such great request, all of you; but this I know, Sir, that if he wasn't pretty tough, and obstinate in his refusals, you'd kill him among you with your invitations and so forth, in double-quick time.'
Mr Dombey, in a few words, expressed his sense of the preference he received over those other distinguished members of society who were clamouring for the possession of Major Bagstock. But the Major cut him short by giving him to understand that he followed his own inclinations, and that they had risen up in a body and said with one accord, 'J. B., Dombey is the man for you to choose as a friend.'
The Major being by this time in a state of repletion, with essence of savoury pie oozing out at the corners of his eyes, and devilled grill and kidneys tightening his cravat: and the time moreover approaching for the departure of the railway train to Birmingham, by which they were to leave town: the Native got him into his great-coat with immense difficulty, and buttoned him up until his face looked staring and gasping, over the top of that garment, as if he were in a barrel. The Native then handed him separately, and with a decent interval between each supply, his washleather gloves, his thick stick, and his hat; which latter article the Major wore with a rakish air on one side of his head, by way of toning down his remarkable visage. The Native had previously packed, in all possible and impossible parts of Mr Dombey's chariot, which was in waiting, an unusual quantity of carpet-bags and small portmanteaus, no less apoplectic in appearance than the Major himself: and having filled his own pockets with Seltzer water, East India sherry, sandwiches, shawls, telescopes, maps, and newspapers, any or all of which light baggage the Major might require at any instant of the journey, he announced that everything was ready. To complete the equipment of this unfortunate foreigner (currently believed to be a prince in his own country), when he took his seat in the rumble by the side of Mr Towlinson, a pile of the Major's cloaks and great-coats was hurled upon him by the landlord, who aimed at him from the pavement with those great missiles like a Titan, and so covered him up, that he proceeded, in a living tomb, to the railroad station.
But before the carriage moved away, and while the Native was in the act of sepulture, Miss Tox appearing at her window, waved a lilywhite handkerchief. Mr Dombey received this parting salutation very coldly - very coldly even for him - and honouring her with the slightest possible inclination of his head, leaned back in the carriage with a very discontented look. His marked behaviour seemed to afford the Major (who was all politeness in his recognition of Miss Tox) unbounded satisfaction; and he sat for a long time afterwards, leering, and choking, like an over-fed Mephistopheles.
During the bustle of preparation at the railway, Mr Dombey and the Major walked up and down the platform side by side; the former taciturn and gloomy, and the latter entertaining him, or entertaining himself, with a variety of anecdotes and reminiscences, in most of which Joe Bagstock was the principal performer. Neither of the two observed that in the course of these walks, they attracted the attention of a working man who was standing near the engine, and who touched his hat every time they passed; for Mr Dombey habitually looked over the vulgar herd, not at them; and the Major was looking, at the time, into the core of one of his stories. At length, however, this man stepped before them as they turned round, and pulling his hat off, and keeping it off, ducked his head to Mr Dombey.
'Beg your pardon, Sir,' said the man, 'but I hope you're a doin' pretty well, Sir.'
He was dressed in a canvas suit abundantly besmeared with coal-dust and oil, and had cinders in his whiskers, and a smell of half-slaked ashes all over him. He was not a bad-looking fellow, nor even what could be fairly called a dirty-looking fellow, in spite of this; and, in short, he was Mr Toodle, professionally clothed.
'I shall have the honour of stokin' of you down, Sir,' said Mr Toodle. 'Beg your pardon, Sir. - I hope you find yourself a coming round?'
Mr Dombey looked at him, in return for his tone of interest, as if a man like that would make his very eyesight dirty.
''Scuse the liberty, Sir,' said Toodle, seeing he was not clearly remembered, 'but my wife Polly, as was called Richards in your family - '
A change in Mr Dombey's face, which seemed to express recollection of him, and so it did, but it expressed in a much stronger degree an angry sense of humiliation, stopped Mr Toodle short.
'Your wife wants money, I suppose,' said Mr Dombey, putting his hand in his pocket, and speaking (but that he always did) haughtily.
'No thank'ee, Sir,' returned Toodle, 'I can't say she does. I don't.'
Mr Dombey was stopped short now in his turn: and awkwardly: with his hand in his pocket.
'No, Sir,' said Toodle, turning his oilskin cap round and round; 'we're a doin' pretty well, Sir; we haven't no cause to complain in the worldly way, Sir. We've had four more since then, Sir, but we rubs on.'
Mr Dombey would have rubbed on to his own carriage, though in so doing he had rubbed the stoker underneath the wheels; but his attention was arrested by something in connexion with the cap still going slowly round and round in the man's hand.
'We lost one babby,' observed Toodle, 'there's no denyin'.'
'Lately,' added Mr Dombey, looking at the cap.
'No, Sir, up'ard of three years ago, but all the rest is hearty. And in the matter o readin', Sir,' said Toodle, ducking again, as if to remind Mr Dombey of what had passed between them on that subject long ago, 'them boys o' mine, they learned me, among 'em, arter all. They've made a wery tolerable scholar of me, Sir, them boys.'
'Come, Major!' said Mr Dombey.
'Beg your pardon, Sir,' resumed Toodle, taking a step before them and deferentially stopping them again, still cap in hand: 'I wouldn't have troubled you with such a pint except as a way of gettin' in the name of my son Biler - christened Robin - him as you was so good as to make a Charitable Grinder on.'
'Well, man,' said Mr Dombey in his severest manner. 'What about him?'
'Why, Sir,' returned Toodle, shaking his head with a face of great anxiety and distress, 'I'm forced to say, Sir, that he's gone wrong.
'He has gone wrong, has he?' said Mr Dombey, with a hard kind of satisfaction.
'He has fell into bad company, you see, genelmen,' pursued the father, looking wistfully at both, and evidently taking the Major into the conversation with the hope of having his sympathy. 'He has got into bad ways. God send he may come to again, genelmen, but he's on the wrong track now! You could hardly be off hearing of it somehow, Sir,' said Toodle, again addressing Mr Dombey individually; 'and it's better I should out and say my boy's gone rather wrong. Polly's dreadful down about it, genelmen,' said Toodle with the same dejected look, and another appeal to the Major.
'A son of this man's whom I caused to be educated, Major,' said Mr Dombey, giving him his arm. 'The usual return!'
'Take advice from plain old Joe, and never educate that sort of people, Sir,' returned the Major. 'Damme, Sir, it never does! It always fails!'
The simple father was beginning to submit that he hoped his son, the quondam Grinder, huffed and cuffed, and flogged and badged, and taught, as parrots are, by a brute jobbed into his place of schoolmaster with as much fitness for it as a hound, might not have been educated on quite a right plan in some undiscovered respect, when Mr Dombey angrily repeating 'The usual return!' led the Major away. And the Major being heavy to hoist into Mr Dombey's carriage, elevated in mid-air, and having to stop and swear that he would flay the Native alive, and break every bone in his skin, and visit other physical torments upon him, every time he couldn't get his foot on the step, and fell back on that dark exile, had barely time before they started to repeat hoarsely that it would never do: that it always failed: and that if he were to educate 'his own vagabond,' he would certainly be hanged.
Mr Dombey assented bitterly; but there was something more in his bitterness, and in his moody way of falling back in the carriage, and looking with knitted brows at the changing objects without, than the failure of that noble educational system administered by the Grinders' Company. He had seen upon the man's rough cap a piece of new crape, and he had assured himself, from his manner and his answers, that he wore it for his son.
So) from high to low, at home or abroad, from Florence in his great house to the coarse churl who was feeding the fire then smoking before them, everyone set up some claim or other to a share in his dead boy, and was a bidder against him! Could he ever forget how that woman had wept over his pillow, and called him her own child! or how he, waking from his sleep, had asked for her, and had raised himself in his bed and brightened when she carne in!
To think of this presumptuous raker among coals and ashes going on before there, with his sign of mourning! To think that he dared to enter, even by a common show like that, into the trial and disappointrnent of a proud gentleman's secret heart! To think that this lost child, who was to have divided with him his riches, and his projects, and his power, and allied with whom he was to have shut out all the world as with a double door of gold, should have let in such a herd to insult him with their knowledge of his defeated hopes, and their boasts of claiming community of feeling with himself, so far removed: if not of having crept into the place wherein he would have lorded it, alone!
He found no pleasure or relief in the journey. Tortured by these thoughts he carried monotony with him, through the rushing landscape, and hurried headlong, not through a rich and varied country, but a wilderness of blighted plans and gnawing jealousies. The very speed at which the train was whirled along, mocked the swift course of the young life that had been borne away so steadily and so inexorably to its foredoomed end. The power that forced itself upon its iron way - its own - defiant of all paths and roads, piercing through the heart of every obstacle, and dragging living creatures of all classes, ages, and degrees behind it, was a type of the triumphant monster, Death.
Away, with a shriek, and a roar, and a rattle, from the town, burrowmg among the dwellings of men and making the streets hum, flashing out into the meadows for a moment, mining in through the damp earth, booming on in darkness and heavy air, bursting out again into the sunny day so bright and wide; away, with a shriek, and a roar, and a rattle, through the fields, through the woods, through the corn, through the hay, through the chalk, through the mould, through the clay, through the rock, among objects close at hand and almost in the grasp, ever flying from the traveller, and a deceitful distance ever moving slowly within him: like as in the track of the remorseless monster, Death!
Through the hollow, on the height, by the heath, by the orchard, by the park, by the garden, over the canal, across the river, where the sheep are feeding, where the mill is going, where the barge is floating, where the dead are lying, where the factory is smoking, where the stream is running, where the village clusters, where the great cathedral rises, where the bleak moor lies, and the wild breeze smooths or ruffles it at its inconstant will; away, with a shriek, and a roar, and a rattle, and no trace to leave behind but dust and vapour: like as in the track of the remorseless monster, Death!
Breasting the wind and light, the shower and sunshine, away, and still away, it rolls and roars, fierce and rapid, smooth and certain, and great works and massive bridges crossing up above, fall like a beam of shadow an inch broad, upon the eye, and then are lost. Away, and still away, onward and onward ever: glimpses of cottage-homes, of houses, mansions, rich estates, of husbandry and handicraft, of people, of old roads and paths that look deserted, small, and insignificant as they are left behind: and so they do, and what else is there but such glimpses, in the track of the indomitable monster, Death!
Away, with a shriek, and a roar, and a rattle, plunging down into the earth again, and working on in such a storm of energy and perseverance, that amidst the darkness and whirlwind the motion seems reversed, and to tend furiously backward, until a ray of light upon the Wet wall shows its surface flying past like a fierce stream, Away once more into the day, and through the day, with a shrill yell of exultation, roaring, rattling, tearing on, spurning everything with its dark breath, sometimes pausing for a minute where a crowd of faces are, that in a minute more are not; sometimes lapping water greedily, and before the spout at which it drinks' has ceased to drip upon the ground, shrieking, roaring, rattling through the purple distance!
Louder and louder yet, it shrieks and cries as it comes tearing on resistless to the goal: and now its way, still like the way of Death, is strewn with ashes thickly. Everything around is blackened. There are dark pools of water, muddy lanes, and miserable habitations far below. There are jagged walls and falling houses close at hand, and through the battered roofs and broken windows, wretched rooms are seen, where 'want and fever hide themselves in many wretched shapes, while smoke and crowded gables, and distorted chimneys, and deformity of brick and mortar penning up deformity of mind and body, choke the murky distance. As Mr Dombey looks out of his carriage window, it is never in his thoughts that the monster who has brought him there has let the light of day in on these things: not made or caused them. It was the journey's fitting end, and might have been the end of everything; it was so ruinous and dreary.'
So, pursuing the one course of thought, he had the one relentless monster still before him. All things looked black, and cold, and deadly upon him, and he on them. He found a likeness to his misfortune everywhere. There was a remorseless triumph going on about him, and it galled and stung him in his pride and jealousy, whatever form it took: though most of all when it divided with him the love and memory of his lost boy.
There was a face - he had looked upon it, on the previous night, and it on him with eyes that read his soul, though they were dim with tears, and hidden soon behind two quivering hands - that often had attended him in fancy, on this ride. He had seen it, with the expression of last night, timidly pleading to him. It was not reproachful, but there was something of doubt, almost of hopeful incredulity in it, which, as he once more saw that fade away into a desolate certainty of his dislike, was like reproach. It was a trouble to him to think of this face of Florence.
Because he felt any new compunction towards it? No. Because the feeling it awakened in him - of which he had had some old foreshadowing in older times - was full-formed now, and spoke out plainly, moving him too much, and threatening to grow too strong for his composure. Because the face was abroad, in the expression of defeat and persecution that seemed to encircle him like the air. Because it barbed the arrow of that cruel and remorseless enemy on which his thoughts so ran, and put into its grasp a double-handed sword. Because he knew full well, in his own breast, as he stood there, tinging the scene of transition before him with the morbid colours of his own mind, and making it a ruin and a picture of decay, instead of hopeful change, and promise of better things, that life had quite as much to do with his complainings as death. One child was gone, and one child left. Why was the object of his hope removed instead of her?
The sweet, calm, gentle presence in his fancy, moved him to no reflection but that. She had been unwelcome to him from the first; she was an aggravation of his bitterness now. If his son had been his only child, and the same blow had fallen on him, it would have been heavy to bear; but infinitely lighter than now, when it might have fallen on her (whom he could have lost, or he believed it, without a pang), and had not. Her loving and innocent face rising before him, had no softening or winning influence. He rejected the angel, and took up with the tormenting spirit crouching in his bosom. Her patience, goodness, youth, devotion, love, were as so many atoms in the ashes upon which he set his heel. He saw her image in the blight and blackness all around him, not irradiating but deepening the gloom. More than once upon this journey, and now again as he stood pondering at this journey's end, tracing figures in the dust with his stick, the thought came into his mind, what was there he could interpose between himself and it?
The Major, who had been blowing and panting all the way down, like another engine, and whose eye had often wandered from his newspaper to leer at the prospect, as if there were a procession of discomfited Miss Toxes pouring out in the smoke of the train, and flying away over the fields to hide themselves in any place of refuge, aroused his friends by informing him that the post-horses were harnessed and the carriage ready.
'Dombey,' said the Major, rapping him on the arm with his cane, 'don't be thoughtful. It's a bad habit, Old Joe, Sir, wouldn't be as tough as you see him, if he had ever encouraged it. You are too great a man, Dombey, to be thoughtful. In your position, Sir, you're far above that kind of thing.'
The Major even in his friendly remonstrrnces, thus consulting the dignity and honour of Mr Dombey, and showing a lively sense of their importance, Mr Dombey felt more than ever disposed to defer to a gentleman possessing so much good sense and such a well-regulated mind; acoordingly he made an effort to listen to the Major's stories, as they trotted along the turnpike road; and the Major, finding both the pace and the road a great deal better adapted to his conversational powers than the mode of travelling they had just relinquished, came out of his entertainment,
But still the Major, blunt and tough as he was, and as he so very often said he was, administered some palatable catering to his companion's appetite. He related, or rather suffered it to escape him, accidentally, and as one might say, grudgingly and against his will, how there was great curiosity and excitement at the club, in regard of his friend Dombey. How he was suffocated with questions, Sir. How old Joe Bagstock was a greater man than ever, there, on the strength of Dombey. How they said, 'Bagstock, your friend Dombey now, what is the view he takes of such and such a question? Though, by the Rood, Sir,' said the Major, with a broad stare, 'how they discovered that J. B. ever came to know you, is a mystery!'
In this flow of spirits and conversation, only interrupted by his usual plethoric symptoms, and by intervals of lunch, and from time to time by some violent assault upon the Native, who wore a pair of ear-rings in his dark-brown ears, and on whom his European clothes sat with an outlandish impossibility of adjustment - being, of their own accord, and without any reference to the tailor's art, long where they ought to be short, short where they ought to be long, tight where they ought to be loose, and loose where they ought to be tight - and to which he imparted a new grace, whenever the Major attacked him, by shrinking into them like a shrivelled nut, or a cold monkey - in this flow of spirits and conversation, the Major continued all day: so that when evening came on, and found them trotting through the green and leafy road near Leamington, the Major's voice, what with talking and eating and chuckling and choking, appeared to be in the box under the rumble, or in some neighbouring hay-stack. Nor did the Major improve it at the Royal Hotel, where rooms and dinner had been ordered, and where he so oppressed his organs of speech by eating and drinking, that when he retired to bed he had no voice at all, except to cough with, and could only make himself intelligible to the dark servant by gasping at him.
He not only rose next morning, however, like a giant refreshed, but conducted himself, at breakfast like a giant refreshing. At this meal they arranged their daily habits. The Major was to take the responsibility of ordering evrything to eat and drink; and they were to have a late breakfast together every morning, and a late dinner together every day. Mr Dombey would prefer remaining in his own room, or walking in the country by himself, on that first day of their sojourn at Leamington; but next morning he would be happy to accompany the Major to the Pump-room, and about the town. So they parted until dinner-time. Mr Dombey retired to nurse his wholesome thoughts in his own way. The Major, attended by the Native carrying a camp-stool, a great-coat, and an umbrella, swaggered up and down through all the public places: looking into subscription books to find out who was there, looking up old ladies by whom he was much admired, reporting J. B. tougher than ever, and puffing his rich friend Dombey wherever he went. There never was a man who stood by a friend more staunchly than the Major, when in puffing him, he puffed himself.
It was surprising how much new conversation the Major had to let off at dinner-time, and what occasion he gave Mr Dombey to admire his social qualities. At breakfast next morning, he knew the contents of the latest newspapers received; and mentioned several subjects in connexion with them, on which his opinion had recently been sought by persons of such power and might, that they were only to be obscurely hinted at. Mr Dombey, who had been so long shut up within himself, and who had rarely, at any time, overstepped the enchanted circle within which the operations of Dombey and Son were conducted, began to think this an improvement on his solitary life; and in place of excusing himself for another day, as he had thought of doing when alone, walked out with the Major arm-in-arm.
“董贝先生，”白格斯托克少校说道，“乔埃•白一般来说并不是一个多愁善感的人，因为约瑟夫是坚强的。但是乔是有感情的，先生，当这些感情•真•的被唤醒的时候——他妈的，董贝先生，”少校突然凶猛地喊道，“这是个弱点，我不打算向它屈服！”
白格斯托克少校是在公主广场他自己的楼梯顶上迎接客人董贝先生时说这些话的。在他们出发旅行之前，董贝先生前来跟少校一道吃早餐；薄命倒霉的本地人由于做的松饼不合主人的口味，已经受尽种种折磨，至于煮鸡蛋引起的问题，生活对他来说真是个沉重的负担。
“白格斯托克家族的一个老兵不应当束手无策地听凭他成为自己感情的牺牲品，”少校态度温和下来，说道，“可是——他妈的，先生，”少校突然又凶猛起来，喊道，“我向您表示哀悼！”
当少校和董贝先生握手的时候，他的青紫色的脸孔的颜色加深了，他的龙虾眼睛更加突出地鼓了出来，因此在那和平的动作中加上了一层挑衅的色彩，仿佛这是一个序幕，接下去，他立即就要为一千镑赌金和英国的锦标与董贝先生进行拳击比赛似的。然后，少校一边转动着头，徐马咳嗽一般地喘着气，一边把客人领到起居室（这时他的情绪已镇静下来了），以一个旅伴无拘无束、坦率真诚的态度欢迎他。
“董贝，”少校说道，“我见到您很高兴。我见到您感到自豪。在欧洲，乔•白格斯托克能对他们说这种话的人是不多的——因为乔希是个直肠直肚，不会虚情假意的人。先生，他生性就是这样——但乔埃•白见到您感到自豪，董贝。”
“少校，”董贝先生说道“您很谦和有礼。”
“不，先生，”少校说，“绝对不是！那不是我的性格。如果那是乔的性格，那么乔现在可能已经是陆军中将约瑟夫•白格斯托克爵士，（巴士高级勋位爵士），可能已经在大不相同的公馆里接待您了。看来您还不了解老乔。但是这次非同寻常的机会是我自豪的源泉。真的，先生，”少校坚决地说道，“这是我的光荣！”
董贝先生根据他对他本人和对他的金钱的评价，觉得这话说得千真万确，因此没有辩驳。但是少校本能地认识这个真理并爽直地作出这个声明，这是令人愉快的。对于董贝先生来说，它证实了（如果他需要证实的话）他对少校的看法没有错。它使他相信：他的权势已扩展到他直接管辖的业务范围之外。少校这位军官和绅士对他权势的正确认识与伦敦交易所的差役相比丝毫不差。
如果说，知道这个情况或类似的情况过去一直是他的一种安慰的话，那么现在，当他的意志无能为力，他的希望动摇不稳，他的财富软弱无能的印象多么悲惨地铭刻在他的心头的时候，知道这个情况更是他的一种安慰。财富能做什么？——他的男孩子曾经这样问过他。他有时想到这孩子的问题时也禁不住问他自己，它真能做什么？它做到了什么呢？
这些都是他在深夜与世隔绝之情况下愁眉不展、意气消沉、黯然忧伤时所产生的隐秘的思想，但是高傲很容易从这个真理的许多证明中重新使他产生信心，这些证明就跟少校的证明一样不容怀疑，一样宝贵可爱。董贝先生在没有朋友的情况下对少校产生了好感。不能说他对他满腔热情，而只能说他稍稍解了点冻。在海滨的那些日子里，少校曾经起过一些作用（不很大）。他是个上层社会里的人物，认识一些重要人物。他健谈，爱讲趣闻轶事；董贝先生喜欢把他看成是在社会上抛头露面的才士名流，但却没有才士名流通常掺杂得过多的有害的寒酸气。他的地位是不可否认的。总的说来，少校是个可以称许的旅伴；他对闲暇安逸的生活十分习惯，对他们即将前往游览的名胜也十分熟悉。在他身上流露出一种上流人士悠闲自在的气派，它和董贝先生本人忙忙碌碌的城市风格搭配得不错，又根本不和它竞争高低。如果董贝先生心中出现过这样的念头，那只残酷无情的手最近曾经摧毁了他的希望，而少校出于他的天职，习惯于把这类事情看得满不在乎，因此他可能在无意间向他灌输一些有用的哲学，驱除他淡弱的哀惜；——如果董贝先生心中出现过这样的念头的话，那么他是把它掩藏起来了，连他自己也不清楚，并不加考察地让自己的高傲把它压在最底层。
“我的无赖在哪里？”少校怒气冲冲地环视着房间，说道。
本地人没有固定的名字，不论用什么辱骂的绰号呼唤他，他都应声回答；这时他立即出现在门口，不敢再向前走近。
“你这坏蛋！”肝火旺盛的少校说道，“早餐在哪里？”
肤色黝黑的仆人离开去取早餐，不一会儿就听到他战战兢兢地重新上楼；托盘里的盘子和碟子都同情地震颤着，一路上卡嗒卡嗒地响着。
“董贝，”少校说，一边向正在餐桌上摆放食品的本地人看了一眼；当他掉落一只匙子的时候，少校就威吓地挥挥拳头，以示鼓励。“这是辣子烤肉，这是咸馅饼，这是一碟腰子，还有其他等等。请坐下吧。您看，老乔没什么招待您，只能请您吃行军的伙食啦！”
“饭菜好极了，少校，”客人回答道，这倒不仅仅是说客气话，因为少校总是尽量把自己照料得很好；事实上他荤菜吃得太多，已经超出有益于健康的程度；他那红光满面的气色主要归因于他的这种嗜好。
“您在看对面的房屋，先生，”少校说道，“您看到了我们的朋友没有？”
“您是说托克斯小姐吗？”董贝先生回答道，“没有看到。”
“迷人的女人哪，先生，”少校说道，他那短喉咙中发出了纵情的大笑声，几乎使他透不过气来。
“我觉得，托克斯小姐是一个很好的人，”董贝先生回答道。
傲慢、冷淡的回答似乎使白格斯托克少校感到无比高兴。他非常兴奋，非常得意，甚至把刀和叉放下片刻，搓起手来。
“先生，”少校说道，“老乔曾经一度是那个房屋里得宠的人。但是乔的好日子已经过去了。乔已经相形见绌，被别人胜过，被别人打败了，先生。这就是我要跟您说的，董贝。”少校停止吃东西，神色神秘而愤怒，“那是个像魔鬼一样野心勃勃的女人，先生。”
董贝先生说了声：“真的吗？”他是冷冷淡淡、漠不关心的，其中也许还夹杂着由于轻蔑而产生的不信任：托克斯小姐怎么竟胆敢怀有野心这样高超的品质呢？
“先生，”少校说，“那个女人就她的本性来说是个恶魔。乔埃•白的好日子已经过去了，但是他的眼睛是继续注视着的。他洞察一切，乔就是这样的。已故的约克郡公爵殿下有一次在早朝中谈到乔的时候曾经说过，他洞察一切。”
少校在讲这些话的时候，露出一副异乎寻常的神色；当他在喝热茶、吃辣子烤肉、松饼和进行意味深长的谈话中间，头是那么兴奋和激怒，甚至连董贝先生也为他表示几分忧虑。
“先生，”少校继续说道，“那个可笑的老女人想要高攀。
她想要高攀到天上，先生。在婚姻上，董贝。”
“我为她感到遗憾。”董贝先生说道。
“别说那个，董贝，”少校用警告的声调说道。
“为什么不说，少校？”董贝先生问道。
少校除了发出像马的咳嗽一样的声音外，没有回答别的，并起劲吃着。
“她对您的家已经产生了兴趣，”少校又停止吃东西，说道，“好些时间以来，她一直是您家的常客。”
“是的，”董贝先生极为庄严地回答道，“托克斯小姐最初是在董贝夫人逝世时，作为我妹妹的一位朋友，在我家受到接待的。由于她是个举止得当、很有礼貌的人，对那个可怜的婴儿又表示喜爱，所以我允许她，可以说是我鼓励她，跟我妹妹一道，经常不断地到我家来拜访，并逐渐地跟这个家庭建立了一种亲近融洽的关系。我，”董贝先生说，他的声调是作出重大的、有价值的让步的人才会有的，“我尊敬托克斯小姐。她很殷勤地在我家里帮了很多小忙，也许这些都是鸡毛蒜皮、微不足道的小忙，少校，但不应当因为这个缘故而贬损它们。我希望我有幸能在我的力量所及的范围内给予注意和关切，以表示感谢。我认为我自己就是多亏了托克斯小姐，少校，”董贝先生轻轻地挥着手，接下去说道，“才有幸跟您相识的。”
“董贝，”少校激昂地说道，“不，不，先生！约瑟夫•白格斯托克不能不对这种说法提出异议。您认识老乔，先生，以及老乔认识您，先生，根源都是由于一位高贵的人，先生，一位卓越非凡的人儿，先生，”少校说道，一边显露出内心痛苦斗争的表情；要做到这一点在他是不难的，因为他这一生都是在跟各种中风的症候作斗争；“董贝，我们是通过您的男孩子而相互认识的。”
董贝先生听到他的这句暗示似乎很受感动（很可能少校有意指望他会这样）。他低垂着眼睛，叹了一口气；少校呢，猛烈地振作起精神；当提到他觉得他本人有危险陷入那种痛苦心情时，他再次说，这是个弱点，没有什么能诱使他向它屈服。
“我们的朋友与我们之间的认识只有间接的关系，”少校说道，“凡是属于她的功劳，乔•白是乐意给她的，先生。尽管如此，夫人，”他接着说，一边抬起眼睛，越过公主广场，望过去，这时可以看见托克斯小姐正在窗口浇花，“您是个女流氓，夫人，您的野心无耻到了极点。如果这仅仅使您自己滑稽可笑，夫人，”少校向一无所知的托克斯小姐摇晃着脑袋说道，这时他那鼓鼓的眼睛好像要跳向她身上去似的，“您满可以痛痛快快地那样做，我敢向您保证，白格斯托克决不会有任何反对。”这时少校可怕地哈哈大笑，连耳朵尖和头上的血管都震颤起来了，“可是，夫人，”少校说道，“当您损害别人，而且损害的是宽宏大量、毫无猜疑的人，来报答他们对您屈尊俯就的厚意，那么您就叫老乔身上的血液沸腾起来了。”
“少校，”董贝先生红着脸说道，“我希望您说到托克斯小姐的时候，别暗示任何荒谬绝伦的事情——”
“董贝，”少校回答道，“我什么也没有暗示。但是乔埃•白是生活在这个世界上的，先生，是张开眼睛生活在这个世界上的，先生，他的耳朵也是竖起来的；乔告诉您，董贝，就在路对过，有一个非常非常狡猾和野心勃勃的女人。”
董贝先生不由得向广场对过望了一眼；他朝那个方向投射过去的是愤怒的眼光。
“约瑟夫•白格斯托克在这个问题上想要讲的话，没有半句留在嘴里的了，”少校斩钉截铁地说道，“乔不是个搬弄是非的人，但有时候，当挑衅强烈得叫他不能再沉默下去的时候，他必须说，他•想•要说——您那该死的奸计，夫人！”少校又火冒三丈地向着他的女邻居大声喊道。
这突然爆发的感情激动又引起少校发出一阵马的咳嗽般的声音，把他折磨了好久；当他恢复过来以后，他又继续说道：
“现在，董贝，既然您邀请乔——老乔当您的客人和莱明顿①的向导，那就请随意指挥他吧，他是完全属于您的。他没有别的优点，先生，但他是坚强不屈和诚恳热情的。我不知道，先生，”少校带着诙谐的神气，摇摆着他的双下巴颏，说道，“你们这些人在乔身上看到了什么，使你们全都向他提出了这样重大的请求；不过我明白，如果他不是坚强不屈、顽抗到底地拒绝这些邀请的话，那么你们就会用请贴及其他一类东西把他的这条命加快一倍地断送了。”
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①莱明顿（Leamington）：英格兰沃里克郡的一个城镇，是有名的矿泉疗养地。
董贝先生三言两语地表示他认识到，社会上其他杰出的人物全都争争吵吵地想把白格斯托克少校据为己有，而少校对他本人的偏爱则超过他们之上。但是少校立刻打断他，让他明白，他是根据自己的心意行事的；他的这些心意全都一致起立，用一个声调对他说，“乔•白，董贝是您应当选来做朋友的人。”
少校这时吃得饱饱的，咸馅饼的液汁从他的眼角中渗流出来，辣子烤肉和腰子绷紧了他的领带；火车开往伯明翰的时间已经临近（他们是乘火车离开城市的），本地人非常困难地给他穿上厚大衣，扣上钮扣；他的脸孔终于从衣服的顶端露了出来，眼睛鼓着往外看，嘴巴张着喘气，仿佛他是装在一个琵琶桶里似的。接着，本地人把他的软皮手套、粗手杖和帽子一件件地递给他，每递完一件总要隔适当的间歇才递下一件。他把那顶帽子时髦地歪戴在头的一边，为的是使他那惊人的面貌变得柔和一些。董贝先生的四轮轻便马车正在外面等待着，本地人事先在马车中一切可能的和不可能的角落里塞满了数量异常之多的毡制旅行提包和小旅行皮包；它们那鼓鼓囊囊的外表就跟少校本人一样，好像患了中风症似的；本地人在自己的口袋中又塞满了塞尔查矿泉水、东印度群岛的雪利酒、夹心面包片、围巾、望远镜、地图和报纸，这一类随身携带的轻便物品是少校在旅行中随时可能要的。然后，本地人报告，一切都已准备就绪。为了把这位不幸的外国人（人们传说他在本国是位王子）装备得齐全无缺，当他和托林森先生并排坐在马车后座上的时候，房东又把一堆少校的斗篷和厚大衣猛掷到他身上；这位房东像一位泰坦①，从铺石路上把这些巨弹对准他投射过来，把他完全蒙盖住了，他就像埋葬在一个活坟墓里似地向着火车站前进。
但是在马车出发之前，正当本地人被埋葬的时候，托克斯小姐出现在她的窗口，挥着一块像百合花一样纯白的手绢。董贝先生很冷淡地——甚至对他来说也是很冷淡地——接受了这个送行的问候；他的头极为轻微地点了一下作为回礼，然后神色十分不愉快地仰靠在马车中。他这故意的态度使少校感到无比高兴。（他倒很有礼貌地跟托克斯小姐打了招呼），后来他长久地坐在那里，眼睛斜瞅着，嘴巴喘着气，像吃得过多的梅菲斯托菲尔斯②一样。
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①泰坦（Titan）：希腊神话中与神斗争的巨人族。
②梅菲斯托菲尔斯：德国诗人哥德所著《浮士德》中的魔鬼。
在车站临开车前忙忙乱乱的时间里，董贝先生和少校在月台上并排地走来走去；董贝先生沉默寡言，闷闷不乐，少校则以各种轶事和回忆（其中大部分的主要角色都是乔•白格斯托克）来使他或使他自己开心消遣。他们两人谁也没有注意到，他们在散步过程中已吸引了一位工人的注意；那位工人站在机车旁边；他们每次从旁经过的时候，他都触一触帽檐向他们行礼；因为董贝先生按照平时的习惯，没有正面去看普通老百姓，而是越过他们的头顶望出去；少校呢，正全神贯注地在讲他的趣闻轶事，所以谁也没有理会到这位工人。可是当他们向后转的时候，那人终于走到他们面前，脱下帽子，拿在手中，向董贝先生低头鞠躬。
“请原谅，先生，”那人说道，“我希望您身体健康，生活愉快，先生。”
他穿着一套帆布衣服，上面布满斑斑点点的煤灰和油垢，连鬓胡子当中有着煤屑，全身上下散发出一股半熄灭的灰烬的气味。尽管这样，他并不是一个难看的人，也不能说他是个看上去肮脏的人；直接了当地说吧，他就是穿着工作服的图德尔先生。
“我很荣幸将在这一路上为你们往锅炉里添煤烧火，”图德尔先生说道，“请原谅，先生，我希望您身体开始恢复过来了吧！”
董贝先生嫌恶地看着他，回答他那关切的声调，仿佛像他那样的人甚至会把他的视野也玷污了似的。
“请原谅我的冒昧，先生，”图德尔先生看到董贝先生已记不清他了，就说道：“不过我的老婆波利，在您家里管她叫做理查兹的——”
董贝先生脸色的变化使图德尔先生突然说不出话来。它似乎表示他已记起他来，实际上也确实如此，但它却以更强烈的程度愤怒地表示出一种屈辱感。
“你的老婆需要钱吧，我想，”董贝先生把手伸进衣袋里，傲慢地说道，不过他经常是这样说话的。
“不，谢谢您，先生，”图德尔回答道，“她需要不需要我不好说。我不需要。”
现在轮到董贝先生突然尴尬地说不出话来了，他的手还放在衣袋里。
“不，先生，”图德尔把他的油布帽子在手里一圈又一圈地打着转，“我们过得不错，先生。我们没有理由抱怨生活，先生。从那时以来，我们又添了四个孩子，先生，但是我们还能勉勉强强过得下去。”
董贝先生真想使劲地挤到他的车厢里去，那怕这样做会把这烧锅炉的火夫给挤到车轮底下也罢；但是这时他的注意力却被那依旧在那人手里慢慢打转的油布帽子上的什么东西吸引住了。
“我们失去了一个小娃娃，”图德尔说，“这是不能否认的。”
“最近吗？”董贝先生看着那帽子，问道。
“不，先生，三年多以前的事了，不过其余的孩子全都很强健。说到念书的事，先生，”图德尔先生又鞠了一个躬，说道，仿佛他想要向董贝先生提醒好久以前他们之间在这方面曾经发生过的事情似的，“归根到底，我的这些男孩子们他们全都教我。先生，他们这些男孩子已经让我成了一个能读会写的人了。”
“走吧，少校！”董贝先生说道。
“请原谅，先生，”图德尔走到他们前面，又恭恭敬敬地拦住他们，继续往下说，他的手里依旧拿着帽子，“如果我不是想把我们的谈话引到我的儿子拜勒的话，那么我本不想用这些话来打搅您的；拜勒的教名叫罗宾，就是他，承蒙您的好意，让他成了一名慈善的磨工。”
“唔，您说，”董贝先生极为严厉地说道，“他怎么了？”
“唉，先生，”图德尔摇着头，脸上露出很大的忧虑与痛苦，回答道，“我不得不说，先生，他走错路了。”
“他走错路了，真的吗？”董贝先生说道，心中感到一种残忍的满足。
“先生们，你们知道，他交了坏朋友了，”那位父亲用愁闷的眼光望着他们两人，继续说道，他把少校显然也拉入谈话，是为了取得他的同情，“他走到邪路上去了。上帝保佑，他也许是会回来的，先生们，可是现在他是在错误的轨道上行走。您也许总会听到这件事的，先生，”图德尔又单独对着董贝先生说道，“不过最好还是由我自己来告诉您，对您说，我的孩子走错路了。波利悲伤得不得了，先生们，”图德尔露出同样沮丧的神色，再一次向少校求助，说道。
“我曾帮助这个人的儿子去受教育，少校，”董贝先生先生挽着他的胳膊，说道，“到头来通常是这样的报答！”
“请接受老乔直率的忠告，千万别去教育这一类人，先生，”少校回答道，“他妈的，先生，千万别做那种事！那样做总是失败的！”
这位老实人的儿子，过去的磨工，曾经被他那野兽般粗暴、残忍的老师吓唬过，殴打过，鞭挞过，在身上烙过印，并像鹦鹉般地教过；由这种人担任老师职务，就像让猎狗担任这种职务一样不合适。当这位头脑简单的父亲正想表示希望他的儿子不要在某些方面接受了错误的教育的时候，董贝先生怒冲冲地重复了一句：“到头来通常是这样的报答！”，就领着少校走开了。少校身子很重，很不容易把他举起送进董贝先生的车厢里；他被悬举在半空，每当他的脚踩不到车厢门口的踏板，重新落在肤色黝黑的流亡者的身上时，他就发誓赌咒地大骂说，他要把本地人活活剥下皮来，要把他的每根骨头都打断，还要让他的身体吃其他各种苦头；少校进了车厢以后，嘶哑地重复说，千万别做那种事，那样做总是失败的，如果他要让“自己这位流浪汉”去受教育的话，那么这小子到头来准会被绞死的；话音刚落，火车就开了。
董贝先生心里很不好受地表示同意；但是在他的不好受中，在他仰靠在车厢里、皱着眉头看着车外不断变化的景物时那郁郁不乐的神色中，还包含着另外的意义，它并不是由于磨工公司举办的高贵的教育制度遭到失败所引起的。他刚才在那人的质地粗糙的帽子上看到一块新的黑纱；他从他的态度和回答中可以肯定，他是为他的儿子保罗佩戴的。
正是这样！从地位高的到地位低的，在家里或在外面，从住在他的宏伟的公馆中的弗洛伦斯开始，一直到这位正在给锅炉烧火，在他们前面正冒出黑烟来的粗汉，每个人都认为对他死去的孩子享有自己的一份权利，都成为他的竞争对手！他能忘记那个女人曾经怎样在保罗的枕边痛哭，把他称做她自己的孩子吗？他能忘记那孩子从睡眠中醒来的时候怎样打听她，而当她进来的时候，他又怎样喜形于色地从床上坐起来吗？
想一想这个在煤块和灰烬中间拨弄火耙子的人正毫无顾忌地佩戴着他那服丧的标志，在前面向前行进吧！想一想他竟敢那怕是采用那样普普通通的一种表示，来分担一位高傲的绅士的秘密的心中的烦恼与失望吧！想一想这个死去的孩子本应当和他共享财富与权力，本应当与他共同策划未来的事业，本应当和他一起像关上双重金门一样地与全世界隔绝的，却竟会让这样一类愚昧无知的平民闯进来，对他破灭的希望了如指掌，并扬扬得意地夸耀能跟他分担与他们如此疏远的感情上的悲痛，用这种方式来侮辱他吧！且不说他们还可能已偷偷地爬进他想独自霸占的地方了呢！
他没有从旅行中找到快乐或安慰。他被这些思想折磨着，怀着忧闷无聊的心情，通过了迅速飞逝的风光景色；他匆匆穿过的不是物产富饶、绚丽多采的国家，而是茫茫一片破灭了的计划与令人苦恼的妒嫉。急速转动的火车速度本身嘲笑着年轻生命的迅速过程，它被多么坚定不移，多么铁面无情地带向预定的终点。一股力量迫使它在它的铁路——它自己的道路——上急驰，它藐视其他一切道路和小径，冲破每一个障碍，拉着各种阶级、年龄和地位的人群和生物，向前奔驶；这股力量就是那耀武扬威的怪物——死亡！
它尖叫着，呼吼着，卡嗒卡嗒地响着，向远方开去；它从城市出发，穿进人们的住宅区，使街道喧嚣活跃；它在片刻间突然出现在草原上，接着钻进潮湿的土地，在黑暗与沉闷的空气中隆隆前进，然后它又突然进入了多么灿烂、多么宽广、阳光照耀的白天。它尖叫着，呼吼着，卡嗒卡嗒地响着，向远方开去；它穿过田野，穿过森林，穿过谷物，穿过干草，穿过白垩地，穿过沃土，穿过粘泥，穿过岩石，穿过近在手边、几乎就在掌握之中、但却永远从旅客身边飞去的东西，这时一个虚幻的远景永远在他心中缓慢地随他移动着，就像在那个冷酷无情的怪物——死亡的轨道上前进一样！
它穿过洼地，爬上山岗，经过荒原，经过果园，经过公园，经过花园，越过运河、越过河流，经过羊群正在吃草的地方，经过磨坊正在运转的地方，经过驳船正在漂流的地方，经过死人躺着的地方，经过工厂正在冒烟的地方，经过小溪正在奔流的地方，经过村庄簇集的地方，经过宏伟的大教堂高高耸立的地方，经过生长着石竹、狂风反复无常地有时使它表面平顺光滑、有时又使它兴波起浪的萧瑟凄凉的荒原；它尖叫着，呼吼着，卡嗒卡嗒地响着，向远方开去，除了尘埃与蒸汽外，不留下其他任何痕迹，就像在那个冷酷无情的怪物——死亡的轨道上前进一样！
迎着风和光，迎着阵雨和阳光，它转动着，吼叫着，猛烈地、迅速地、平稳地、确信地向远方开去，向更远的地方开去。巨大的堤坝和宏伟的桥梁像一束一英寸宽的阴暗的光线闪现在眼前，然后又消失了。它向远方，更远的地方开去，向前，永远向前地开去，瞥见了茅舍，瞥见了房屋、公馆、富饶的庄园，瞥见了农田和手工作坊，瞥见了人们，瞥见了古老的道路和小径（当它们被抛在后面的时候，看去是那么荒凉，渺小和微不足道——它们也确实如此——）、在难以制服的怪物——死亡的轨道上，除了瞥见这些东西之外，又还有什么别的呢？
它尖叫着，呼吼着，卡嗒卡嗒地响着，向远方开去；它重新投入地面，以狂风暴雨般充沛的精力和坚韧不拔的精神向前奔驶；在黑暗与旋风中它的车轮似乎倒转，猛烈地向后面退回去，直到射向潮湿的墙上的光辉显示出，它的顶部表面正像一条湍急的溪流一般向前飞奔过去。它发出了欢天喜地的尖叫声，呼吼着，卡嗒卡嗒地响着，又一次进入了白天和经过了白天，急匆匆地继续向前奔驰着；它用它黑色的呼吸唾弃一切，有时在人群聚集的地方停歇一分钟，一分钟以后他们就再也看不见了；它有时贪婪无厌地狂饮着水，当它饮水的喷管还没有停止滴水之前，它就尖叫着，呼吼着，卡嗒卡嗒地响着，开向紫红色的远方去了！
当它急急匆匆、不可抗拒地向着目标奔驰的时候，它尖叫、呼吼得更响更响了；这时它的道路又像死亡的道路一样，厚厚地铺盖着灰烬。周围的一切都变得黑暗了。在很下面的地方是黑暗的水池，泥泞的胡同，简陋的住宅。附近有断垣残壁和坍塌的房屋，通过露出窟窿的屋顶和破损的窗子可以看到可怜的房间，房间中显露出贫困与热病的各种惨状；烟尘、堆积的山墙、变形的烟囱、残破的砖头和废弃的灰浆，把畸形的身心关在里面，并且堵挡住阴暗的远方。当董贝先生从车厢窗户望出去时，他没有想到，把他运载到这里来的怪物只不过是让白天的亮光照射到这些景物上面，它没有制造它们，也不是它们发生的原因。这是恰当的旅程终点，也可能是一切事物的终点——它是多么破落与凄凉。
因此，当他沿着那条思路想下去的时候，那个残酷无情的怪物仍然出现在他眼前。一切事物都暗淡地、冷酷地、死气沉沉地看着他，他也同样地看着它们，他到处都看到与他的不幸相似的地方。周围的一切事物都毫无怜悯心地庆贺着对他的胜利，不论这种庆贺采取什么形式，它都伤害与刺痛了他的高傲与妒嫉心；特别是当它与他分享他对那死去的孩子的热爱或参与他对他的回忆的时候，他的痛苦就格外强烈。
在这一次旅行中有一张脸孔经常出现在他的浮思漫想之中；前一天夜间他曾看见它，它也看见他，它上面的两只眼睛虽然被泪水弄模糊了，而且立即被两只发抖的手捂住了，但是却觉察到了他的灵魂。他在旅程中看到它就跟昨天夜间的表情一样，胆怯地向他恳求。它并不是责备的表情，但其中却有某些疑问，几乎可以说是几分缥缈不定的希望；当他再去看它的时候，这缥缈不定的希望消失了，变为悲伤绝望的确信（确信他不喜欢她），所以它又有些像责备。当想到弗洛伦斯的这张脸的时候，他感到烦恼。

　　是不是因为他看到这张脸感觉到什么新的内疚呢？不是，而是因为这张脸在他内心所唤醒的、他先前曾经模糊产生的感觉，现在已充分形成，清楚地表达出来，使他十分心烦意乱，它眼看着就要变得十分强烈，使他无法安宁；是因为这张脸把他遭到的挫折和受到的残害体现出来，它无处不在，似乎像空气一样包围着他；是因为这张脸给他正在想着的残酷无情的敌人的箭装上倒钩，把一把两刃的利剑交到敌人手中；是因为他站在那里，给眼前不断变化的景物涂上一层与他自己思想一样病态的颜色，使它成为一幅崩溃与衰败的图景，而不是使它充满了美好的希望，预示着似锦的前程；这时候他心中十分清楚：生命跟死亡一样能引起他的哀怨。一个孩子逝世了，一个孩子活下来。为什么是他希望所寄托的对象被夺走了，而不是她？

　　在他的浮思漫想中出现的那张可爱的、平静的、温柔的脸没有使他产生任何其他想法。从一开始，她就是不受他欢迎的，现在她加剧了他的痛苦。如果他的儿子是他唯一的孩子，而且遭受到同样的打击，虽然这打击也十分沉重，难以忍受，但比起现在，当这打击有可能落在她身上但实际却没有落在她身上的时候，那种打击是无比地轻多了，因为她是他可以或者他相信他可以不感到痛苦地失去的。浮现在他面前的那张天真烂漫的脸并没有使他的心肠变软，并没有使他回心转意，对她喜欢起来。他拒绝了天使，但却接受了潜伏在他胸中、痛苦折磨着他的恶魔。她的耐性、善良、年轻、忠诚、热爱，就像他践踏在脚下的灰烬中的许多细尘。他在他周围一片阴影与黑暗中看到她的形象不是照亮了而是加深了阴暗。他怎么能和她的这个形象一刀两断，永远隔绝呢？在这次旅行中，这个想法在他心中已经出现不止一次了，现在在旅程的终点，当他站在那里用手杖在灰尘中画着图形的时候，它又在他心中冒出来了。

　　少校像另一台机车一样，一路上一直在喷气和喘气；他的眼睛经常离开报纸，斜眼看着远景，仿佛被打得落花流水的托克斯小姐们正一个个排着队从火车的烟囱中喷出来，飞越田野，躲藏在什么隐蔽安全的地方似的；这时他把他的朋友从沉思中唤醒，告诉他，驿马已经套上马具，马车已经准备好了。

　　“董贝，”少校用手杖捅了捅他的胳膊，说道，“别爱沉思。这是个坏习惯。如果老乔也养成这样的习惯，先生，那么他就不会像您现在看到的这样坚强不屈了。您是个伟大的人物，董贝，不能这么喜爱沉思。处在您这样的地位，大可不必把精力耗在那种事情上面。”

　　少校甚至在他友好的劝告中也考虑到董贝先生的尊严和荣誉，表示十分明白它们的重要性，所以董贝先生对一个见解这样正确、头脑这样清醒的上层社会人士的意见就比平时更爱听从了。因此，当他们沿着征收通行税的道路急匆匆地行进的时候，他作出努力来听少校讲趣闻轶事；少校呢，觉得不论是速度还是道路都比他们刚才结束的旅行方式更适应他的谈话能力，所以就讲一些话来使他开心消遣。

　　少校一直兴致勃勃、滔滔不绝地谈着话，只有他一向就有的多血症症状发作的时候，吃午饭的时候和他不时愤怒殴打本地人的时候，才把谈话打断。本地人在深褐色的耳朵上佩带了一对耳环，身上穿了一套欧洲服装；这套服装对他这个欧洲人是很不相配的，这倒并不是由于裁缝师傅的手艺不好，而是由于衣服本身不合身，该短的地方长，该长的地方短，该松的地方紧，该紧的地方松；他还给这套服装增添了一个优点，每当少校向他进攻的时候，他就像一个干透了的硬壳果或挨冻的猴子那样，往衣服里面缩了进去。少校就这样整天兴致勃勃、滔滔不绝地谈着话，因此，当晚上来临，他们在靠近莱明顿的树木葱茏的道路上匆匆行进的时候，少校由于谈话，吃东西，吃吃地笑和喘气的结果，他的声音仿佛是从马车后座下面的箱子中或从附近某个干草堆里发出来似的。他们在皇家旅馆预定了房间和晚饭，少校到旅馆后声音不见好转，而且由于他在这里用饮食来狠狠地压迫说话器官，所以到了睡觉的时候，他除了咳嗽之外，就一点声音也没有了，只能向肤色黝黑的仆人张嘴喘气来传达他的思想。

　　可是第二天早上，他不但像一个精神恢复过来的巨人一样起床，而且在吃早饭的时候，还像一个精神振作的巨人一样吃喝。他们在这餐早饭中间商讨了每天的作息安排；少校负责吩咐饮食方面的一切事情；他们每天早上在一起吃晚开的早饭，每天在一起吃晚开的晚饭。他们在莱明顿逗留的第一天，董贝先生宁愿待在自己房间里或独自在乡间散步；但是第二天上午他将高兴陪同少校去矿泉饮水处游览，并到城里逛逛。这样他们就分开了，一直到吃晚饭。董贝先生按照自己的方式独自进行有益的沉思。少校则在拿着折凳、厚大衣和雨伞的本地人的侍候下，大摇大摆地在所有的公共场所走来走去；他查阅签名册，看有谁到那里去了；他拜访那些他很受赞许的老女士们，告诉她们乔·白比过去更坚强不屈了；不管到那里他都吹嘘他的阔绰的朋友董贝。世界上没有任何人能像少校那样热忱地帮助朋友；当吹嘘董贝先生的时候，他也就吹嘘了自己。

　　吃晚饭的时候，少校说出了那么许许多多新内容的话，并使董贝先生有那么充分的理由来佩服他的交际能力，这真是不可思议的。第二天吃早饭的时候，他已经知道最新收到的报纸的内容，并谈到了与这些内容有关的一些问题；他对这些问题的意见最近受到一些人士的重视，这些人士十分有权有势，只须含糊地暗示一下就够了。董贝先生闭门独居已经很长久了，过去也很少走出董贝父子公司业务经营的迷人的圈子之外，所以他现在开始觉得这次旅行对他的孤独生活将会有所改进；因此，他放弃了他单独一人时原打算独自再待上一天的想法，跟少校手挽着手地出去了。


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《Dombey and Son》——董贝父子（中英文对照）完结_派派后花园

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[Novel] 《Dombey and Son》——董贝父子（中英文对照）完结