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lavengro-第75部分

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partial at first I might be to these lives and trials; it was not 

long before they became regular trials to me; owing to the whims 

and caprices of the publisher。  I had not been long connected with 

him before I discovered that he was wonderfully fond of interfering 

with other people's business … at least with the business of those 

who were under his control。  What a life did his unfortunate 

authors lead!  He had many in his employ toiling at all kinds of 

subjects … I call them authors because there is something 

respectable in the term author; though they had little authorship 

in; and no authority whatever over; the works on which they were 

engaged。  It is true the publisher interfered with some colour of 

reason; the plan of all and every of the works alluded to having 

originated with himself; and; be it observed; many of his plans 

were highly clever and promising; for; as I have already had 

occasion to say; the publisher in many points was a highly clever 

and sagacious person; but he ought to have been contented with 

planning the works originally; and have left to other people the 

task of executing them; instead of which he marred everything by 

his rage for interference。  If a book of fairy tales was being 

compiled; he was sure to introduce some of his philosophy; 

explaining the fairy tale by some theory of his own。  Was a book of 

anecdotes on hand; it was sure to be half filled with sayings and 

doings of himself during the time that he was common councilman of 

the City of London。  Now; however fond the public might be of fairy 

tales; it by no means relished them in conjunction with the 

publisher's philosophy; and however fond of anecdotes in general; 

or even of the publisher in particular … for indeed there were a 

great many anecdotes in circulation about him which the public both 

read and listened to very readily … it took no pleasure in such 

anecdotes as he was disposed to relate about himself。  In the 

compilation of my Lives and Trials I was exposed to incredible 

mortification; and ceaseless trouble; from this same rage for 

interference。  It is true he could not introduce his philosophy 

into the work; nor was it possible for him to introduce anecdotes 

of himself; having never had the good or evil fortune to be tried 

at the bar; but he was continually introducing … what; under a less 

apathetic government than the one then being; would have infallibly 

subjected him; and perhaps myself; to a trial; … his politics; not 

his Oxford or pseudo politics; but the politics which he really 

entertained; and which were of the most republican and violent 

kind。  But this was not all; when about a moiety of the first 

volume had been printed; he materially altered the plan of the 

work; it was no longer to be a collection of mere Newgate lives and 

trials; but of lives and trials of criminals in general; foreign as 

well as domestic。  In a little time the work became a wondrous 

farrago; in which Konigsmark the robber figured by the side of Sam 

Lynn; and the Marchioness de Brinvilliers was placed in contact 

with a Chinese outlaw。  What gave me the most trouble and annoyance 

was the publisher's remembering some life or trial; foreign or 

domestic; which he wished to be inserted; and which I was forthwith 

to go in quest of and purchase at my own expense:  some of those 

lives and trials were by no means easy to find。  'Where is Brandt 

and Struensee?' cries the publisher; 'I am sure I don't know;' I 

replied; whereupon the publisher falls to squealing like one of 

Joey's rats。  'Find me up Brandt and Struensee by next morning; or 

… '  'Have you found Brandt and Struensee?' cried the publisher; on 

my appearing before him next morning。  'No;' I reply; 'I can hear 

nothing about them'; whereupon the publisher falls to bellowing 

like Joey's bull。  By dint of incredible diligence; I at length 

discover the dingy volume containing the lives and trials of the 

celebrated two who had brooded treason dangerous to the state of 

Denmark。  I purchase the dingy volume; and bring it in triumph to 

the publisher; the perspiration running down my brow。  The 

publisher takes the dingy volume in his hand; he examines it 

attentively; then puts it down; his countenance is calm for a 

moment; almost benign。  Another moment and there is a gleam in the 

publisher's sinister eye; he snatches up the paper containing the 

names of the worthies which I have intended shall figure in the 

forthcoming volumes … he glances rapidly over it; and his 

countenance once more assumes a terrific expression。  'How is 

this?' he exclaims; 'I can scarcely believe my eyes … the most 

important life and trial omitted to be found in the whole criminal 

record … what gross; what utter negligence!  Where's the life of 

Farmer Patch? where's the trial of Yeoman Patch?'



'What a life! what a dog's life!' I would frequently exclaim; after 

escaping from the presence of the publisher。



One day; after a scene with the publisher similar to that which I 

have described above; I found myself about noon at the bottom of 

Oxford Street; where it forms a right angle with the road which 

leads or did lead to Tottenham Court。  Happening to cast my eyes 

around; it suddenly occurred to me that something uncommon was 

expected; people were standing in groups on the pavement … the 

upstair windows of the houses were thronged with faces; especially 

those of women; and many of the shops were partly; and not a few 

entirely; closed。  What could be the reason of all this?  All at 

once I bethought me that this street of Oxford was no other than 

the far…famed Tyburn way。  Oh; oh; thought I; an execution; some 

handsome young robber is about to be executed at the farther end; 

just so; see how earnestly the women are peering; perhaps another 

Harry Simms … Gentleman Harry as they called him … is about to be 

carted along this street to Tyburn tree; but then I remembered that 

Tyburn tree had long since been cut down; and that criminals; 

whether young or old; good…looking or ugly; were executed before 

the big stone gaol; which I had looked at with a kind of shudder 

during my short rambles in the City。  What could be the matter? 

just then I heard various voices cry; 'There it comes!' and all 

heads were turned up Oxford Street; down which a hearse was slowly 

coming:  nearer and nearer it drew; presently it was just opposite 

the place where I was standing; when; turning to the left; it 

proceeded slowly along Tottenham Road; immediately behind the 

hearse were three or four mourning coaches; full of people; some of 

whom; from the partial glimpse which I caught of them; appeared to 

be foreigners; behind these came a very long train of splendid 

carriages; all of which; without one exception; were empty。



'Whose body is in that hearse?' said I to a dapper…looking 

individual; seemingly a shopkeeper; who stood beside me on the 

pavement; 
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