bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第33节
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little orphan girl without a protector； and I take it in my head to be
that protector。 She grows up； and more than justifies my good
opinion； and I remain her guardian and her friend。 What is there
in all this？ So； so！ Now； we have cleared off old scores； and I have
before me thy pleasant； trusting； trusty face again。”
I said to myself； “Esther； my dear； you surprise me！ This really
is not what I expected of you！” and it had such a good effect； that I
folded my hands upon my basket； and quite recovered myself。 Mr
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Jarndyce； expressing his approval in his face； began to talk to me
as confidentially as if I had been in the habit of conversing with
him every morning； for I don’t know how long。 I almost felt as if I
had。
“Of course； Esther；” he said； “you don’t understand this
Chancery business？”
And of course I shook my head。
“I don’t know who does；” he returned。 “The Lawyers have
twisted it into such a state of bedevilment that the original merits
of the case have long disappeared from the face of the earth。 It’s
about a Will； and the trusts under a Will—or it was； once。 It’s
about nothing but Costs； now。 We are always appearing； and
disappearing； and swearing； and interrogating； and filing； and
cross…filing； and arguing； and sealing； and motioning； and
referring； and reporting； and revolving about the Lord Chancellor
and all his satellites； and equitably waltzing ourselves off to dusty
death； about Costs。 That’s the great question。 All the rest； by some
extraordinary means； has melted away。”
“But it was； sir；” said I； to bring him back； for he began to rub
his head； “about a Will？”
“Why； yes； it was about a Will when it was about anything；” he
returned。 “A certain Jarndyce； in an evil hour； made a great
fortune； and made a great Will。 In the question how the trusts
under that Will are to be administered； the fortune left by the Will
is squandered away； the legatees under the Will are reduced to
such a miserable condition that they would be sufficiently
punished； if they had committed an enormous crime in having
money left them； and the Will itself is made a dead letter。 All
through the deplorable cause； everything that everybody in it；
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except one man； knows already； is referred to that only one man
who don’t know it； to find out—all through the deplorable cause；
everybody must have copies； over and over again； of everything
that has accumulated about it in the way of cartloads of papers （or
must pay for them without having them； which is the usual course；
for nobody wants them）； and must go down the middle and up
again； through such an infernal country…dance of costs and fees
and nonsense and corruption； as was never dreamed of in the
wildest visions of a Witch’s Sabbath。 Equity sends questions to
Law； Law sends questions back to Equity； Law finds it can’t do
this； Equity finds it can’t do that； neither can so much as say it
can’t do anything； without this solicitor instructing and this
counsel appearing for A； and that solicitor instructing and that
counsel appearing for B； and so on through the whole alphabet；
like the history of the Apple Pie。 And thus； through years and
years； and lives and lives； everything goes on； constantly
beginning over and over again； and nothing ever ends。 And we
can’t get out of the suit on any terms； for we are made parties to it；
and must be parties to it； whether we like it or not。 But it won’t do
to think of it！ When my great Uncle； poor Tom Jarndyce； began to
think of it； it was the beginning of the end！”
“The Mr Jarndyce； sir； whose story I have heard？”
He nodded gravely。 “I was his heir； and this was his house；
Esther。 When I came here； it was bleak； indeed。 He had left the
signs of his misery upon it。”
“How changed it must be now！” I said。
“It had been called； before his time； the Peaks。 He gave it its
present name； and lived here shut up： day and night poring over
the wicked heaps of papers in the suit； and hoping against hope to
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disentangle it from its mystification and bring it to a close。 In the
meantime； the place became dilapidated； the wind whistled
through the cracked walls； the rain fell through the broken roof；
the weeds choked the passage to the rotting door。 When I brought
what remained of him home here； the brains seemed to me to have
been blown out of the house too； it was so shattered and ruined。
He walked a little to and fro； after saying this to himself with a
shudder； and then looked at me； and brightened； and came and sat
down again with his hands in his pockets。
“I told you this was the Growlery； my dear。 Where was I？”
I reminded him； at the hopeful change he had made in Bleak
House。
“Bleak House： true。 There is in that city of London there； some
property of ours； which is much at this day what Bleak House was
then；—I say property of ours； meaning of the Suit’s； but I ought to
call it the property of Costs； for Costs is the only power on earth
that will ever get anything out of it now； or will ever know it for
anything but an eyesore and a heartsore。 It is a street of perishing
blind houses； with their eyes stoned out； without a pane of glass；
without so much as a window…frame； with the bare blank shutters
tumbling from their hinges and falling asunder； the iron rails
peeling away in flakes of rust； the chimneys sinking in； the stone
steps to every door （and every door might be Death’s Door）
turning stagnant green； the very crutches on which the ruins are
propped； decaying。 Although Bleak House was not in Chancery；
its master was； and it was stamped with the same seal。 These are
the Great Seal’s impressions； my dear； all over England—the
children know them！”
“How changed it is！” I said again。
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“Why； so it is；” he answered much more cheerfully； “and it is
wisdom in you to keep me to the bright side of the picture。” （The
idea of my wisdom！） “These are things I never talk about； or even
think about； excepting in the Growlery； here。 If you consider it
right to mention them to Rick and Ada；” looking seriously at me；
“you can。 I leave it to your discretion； Esther。”
“I hope； sir；”—said I。
“I think you had better call me Guardian； my dear。”
I felt that I was choking again—I taxed myself with it； “Esther；
now； you know you are！”—when he feigned to say this slightly； as
if it were a whim； instead of a thoughtful tenderness。 But I gave
the housekeeping keys the least shake in the world as a reminder
to myself； and folding my hands in a still more determined manner
on the basket； looked at him quietly。
“I hope； Guardian；” said I； “that you may not trust too much to
my discretion。 I hope you may not mistake me。 I am afraid it will
be a disappointment to you to know that I am not clever—but it
really is the truth； and you would soon find it out if I had not the
honesty to confess it。”
He did not seem at all disappointed： quite the contrary。 He told
me； with a smile all over his face； that he knew me very well
indeed； and th
