David Copperfield

Chapter 35 My aunt made up her mind about me (3)
Chapter 14 My aunt made up her mind about me (3)
"As to the best way of bringing him up," went on Mr. Murdstone (his face darkened as he and my aunt looked at each other carefully), "I have an opinion. Some of it comes from my own Some of what I know of him comes from what I know of my own assets, and again, I let the boy go to decent work and be looked after by a friend of my own who, dissatisfied, ran away and became a wandering Ordinary beggars, and then come to you in rags to complain of wrongs. If you have shelter for his accusation, I will tell you the inevitable result as honestly as I can."

"Tell me about the honorable work!" said my aunt. "If he had been your own child, would you have sent him in as well?"

"If he had been my brother's own child," said Miss Murdstone, "I think he would be quite the opposite character."

"Or if the poor boy, his mother, is still around, he's still going to do the noble work, isn't it?" said my aunt.

"I trust," said Murdstone, tilting his head, "that Clara will have no objection to what my sister Jane and I have agreed upon."

Miss Murdstone confirmed in whispers that she agreed with her brother.

"Alas!" said my aunt, "unfortunate child!"

Mr. Dick kept rattling his money, and rattling so loudly, that my aunt felt obliged to warn him with her eyes, before she said:

"Has the poor child's annual salary gone with her?"

"Yes," replied Mr. Murdstone.

"What about that house and garden--that nest without a crow--with no property left to her children?"

"It was left to her by her ex-husband..." began Mr. Murdstone, when my aunt, very angry, stopped him impatiently.

"God! Oh, how can you say that, leave it to her! I think David Copperfield is looking for circumstances, though that's close at hand!. But when remarrying her—when she's taken the extreme Unlucky step, when I married you," said my aunt, "honestly, who spoke for that child then?"

"My late wife loved her second husband," said Mr. Murdstone, "and trusted him completely."

"Your late wife, sir, was the most useless and unlucky child," said the aunt, shaking her head at him. "She was like that. Why do you mention her now?"

"Miss Trowood," he went on, "I have come here to take David back—to take him back unconditionally, to arrange him as I think fit, to treat him as I think fit. I am not Come here to make any reply, or offer any assurance to anyone. You, Miss Trowood, may be biased in regard to his escape and complaints, as may be seen from your manner, for I do not think you have the sincerity to reconcile with me. .If you favor him once, you have to stay that way. If you get involved in this, you can't get out of it. I won't make trouble, and I don't want people to make things difficult for me. I came here to take him, this is the first time , and the last time. Is he going? If he is not going, if you tell me he is not going, if you tell me that, my door will be closed to him from now on, and your door will be open to him from now on. .”

My aunt listened with great attention.She sat upright now, with her hands folded on one knee, and stared fiercely at the speaker.When he had finished, she rolled her eyes so as to see Miss Murdstone, but without changing her position, said:

"Hey, miss, can you tell me too?"

"Oh, Miss Trowwood," said Miss Murdstone, "my brother has made my point very clearly, and I have nothing to add but to thank you for your courtesy. Good manners," said Miss Murdstone, whose courage had no effect on my aunt any more than it had done to the cannon I slept against at Chatham.

My aunt said, "Are you going, David?"

I replied no and begged her not to let me go.I say they hate me and have never been kind to me.They made my dear mother suffer for me, and I know it well, Peggotty told me.I said that no one of my age could comprehend the pain I had suffered in the past.I begged my aunt—I forget the words now, but it made me very emotional at the time—for my father's sake, don't abandon me.

"What shall we do with the boy, Mr. Dick?" said the aunt.

Mr. Dick hesitated, then said suddenly, "Make him a suit at once."

"Mr. Dick," said my aunt proudly, "hold out your hand; your common sense is invaluable to me." My aunt shook Mr. Yoke's hand with great sincerity, and Draw me over, and say to Mr Murdstone:

"You can go when you want, and I will take care of him. If he is exactly as you say, I can follow your example. But I don't believe you."

"Miss Trowood," said Mr. Murdstone, rising and shrugging, "if you were a man—"

"What? Nonsense," said my aunt. "Shut up!"

"What a noble courtesy!" cried Miss Murdstone, rising, "so kind!"

"That poor, unfortunate, misguided child," said the aunt, ignoring the older sister, and shaking her head furiously at the brother, "you think I don't know that when you—close to her, As if you couldn't say po to a goose. What a poor life it was for that weak little creature!"

"What wonderful words," said Miss Murdstone.

"You think I do see and hear you now—I don't like that, I tell you frankly. Oh, who could have been so gentle and docile as Mr. Murdstone at first! That poor, The ignorant child has never met someone like him. She thinks he is made of honey and he respects her. He loves her children, loves her children very much. He wants to be his second father and they want Live a happy life together, don't you? Bah! Get out! Get out!" said my aunt.

"I never saw such an unreasonable person as you!" cried Miss Murdstone.

"You got hold of that poor creature," said my aunt, "sorry for calling her that, she's gone where you wouldn't bother to go—but you've done her and her baby enough, you Fuck her all day long, don't you? Start torturing her like a pathetic caged bird, making her sing your tunes until it costs her her life!"

"You are either mad or drunk," said Miss Murdstone, mortified at not being able to properly contradict my aunt's eloquence. "I suspect you must be drunk."

Miss Bessie ignored the interruption, as if nothing had happened, and went on to address Mr. Murdstone.

"Mr. Murdstone," she shook her head, pointing at him, "you are a tyrant in the eyes of that poor ignorant child, and you have broken her heart, and what a delightful creature she is." Child—I understand, I knew it years before you knew her—you took advantage of her greatest weakness and gave her a deadly blow. Whether you like it or not, it's a comforting fact. You and you the minions of the world, think about it."

"Miss Trowood," put in Miss Murdstone, "who is it that is called my brother's 'minion'?"

Not listening to the voice at all, not being affected by it, the aunt continued her conversation.

"I've told you that it was very simple, years before you met--God only knows why--that poor, meek little thing was going to marry sooner or later; but never thought it would be so bad. Mr. Durstone, that was when she had this wretched child," said my aunt, "and it hurts to think that you took the opportunity to torment her afterwards. Alas, alas! You needn't dodge!" My aunt said, "Don't duck, I know it's real."

All the time Mr. Murdstone stood by the door, looking at her with a smile on his face, though his bushy eyebrows were furrowed deeply.I could see then that, though he still had a smile on his face, it had changed, as if he had been panting as he had run past.

"Good luck to you, sir!" said my aunt. "Good-bye! Good luck to you too, miss," said my aunt, turning suddenly to Miss Murdstone, "if you ride your donkey over my meadow again, you woe to my hat, I'll knock it off and trample on it with my foot!"

Only a painter, and a good painter at that, could have reproduced the expression on my aunt's face as she let out such unexpected words, and that of Miss Murdstone's listener.The aunt's manner of speaking was in full swing, and Miss Murdstone made no objection, but cautiously took her brother by the arm, and walked out of the house with dignity.My aunt was still sitting by the window, and judging from her figure, I was quite sure that if the donkey dared to offend again, she would immediately carry out her warning.

The Murdstone siblings did not show any resistance to the challenge, and the tense face of the aunt gradually relaxed, and she looked pleasant.So I had the courage to kiss her and thank her.I warmly hugged her neck and kissed her, thanking her.Then I shook hands with Mr. Dick, and he shook my hand for a long time, and then laughed again and again to celebrate our final victory.

"Mr. Dick, you will be the child's guardian as I am," said the aunt.

"It is my great honor to be the guardian of David's son," said Mr. Dick.

"Very well," said my aunt, "that's all. You know, Mr. Dick, I once thought I might teach him the name Trowood."

"Certainly, yes! Call him Trowood," said Mr. Dick. "David's son—Trouwood."

"You mean Trowood Copperfield?" my aunt went on.

"Yes, that's quite right, Trowood Copperfield," said Mr. Dick, a little shyly.

My aunt liked this idea very much, bought ready-made clothes that afternoon, and before I wore them, wrote "Troud Copperfield" with her own hand in indelible marker ink; and limited, all my clothes henceforth They must be marked with the same characters (a set was custom-made that afternoon).

In this way, with a new name and in a new environment, I embarked on a new journey, and the fear of many days finally woke up like a dream.I did not expect to have such strange guardians as my aunt and Mr. Dick.I never thought clearly about everything around me, except for two things—the days of the old Brandstone fading away like a distant mist; The curtain was covered.Since then, I haven't opened that layer of curtain, even in the narrative, I only opened a corner reluctantly, and then quickly closed it.The sorrow, annoyance, and disappointment that the memory of that period of life gave me made me not even have the courage to think about how long I had endured.That life is a year, or a little longer, or a little shorter, I can't remember.I only remember, there was that life, but no more; I've written it here, let it stay here.

(End of this chapter)