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lavengro-第98部分
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out of bed; breakfasted on bread and water; and then sat down
doggedly to write the life of Joseph Sell。
It was a great thing to have formed my plan; and to have arranged
the scenes in my head; as I had done on the preceding night。 The
chief thing requisite at present was the mere mechanical act of
committing them to paper。 This I did not find at first so easy as
I could wish … I wanted mechanical skill; but I persevered; and
before evening I had written ten pages。 I partook of some bread
and water; and before I went to bed that night; I had completed
fifteen pages of my life of Joseph Sell。
The next day I resumed my task … I found my power of writing
considerably increased; my pen hurried rapidly over the paper … my
brain was in a wonderfully teeming state; many scenes and visions
which I had not thought of before were evolved; and; as fast as
evolved; written down; they seemed to be more pat to my purpose;
and more natural to my history; than many others which I had
imagined before; and which I made now give place to these newer
creations: by about midnight I had added thirty fresh pages to my
LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF JOSEPH SELL。
The third day arose … it was dark and dreary out of doors; and I
passed it drearily enough within; my brain appeared to have lost
much of its former glow; and my pen much of its power; I; however;
toiled on; but at midnight had only added seven pages to my history
of Joseph Sell。
On the fourth day the sun shone brightly … I arose; and; having
breakfasted as usual; I fell to work。 My brain was this day
wonderfully prolific; and my pen never before or since glided so
rapidly over the paper; towards night I began to feel strangely
about the back part of my head; and my whole system was
extraordinarily affected。 I likewise occasionally saw double … a
tempter now seemed to be at work within me。
'You had better leave off now for a short space;' said the tempter;
'and go out and drink a pint of beer; you have still one shilling
left … if you go on at this rate; you will go mad … go out and
spend sixpence; you can afford it; more than half your work is
done。' I was about to obey the suggestion of the tempter; when the
idea struck me that; if I did not complete the work whilst the fit
was on me; I should never complete it; so I held on。 I am almost
afraid to state how many pages I wrote that day of the life of
Joseph Sell。
From this time I proceeded in a somewhat more leisurely manner;
but; as I drew nearer and nearer to the completion of my task;
dreadful fears and despondencies came over me。 … It will be too
late; thought I; by the time I have finished the work; the
bookseller will have been supplied with a tale or a novel。 Is it
probable that; in a town like this; where talent is so abundant …
hungry talent too … a bookseller can advertise for a tale or a
novel; without being supplied with half a dozen in twenty…four
hours? I may as well fling down my pen … I am writing to no
purpose。 And these thoughts came over my mind so often; that at
last; in utter despair; I flung down the pen。 Whereupon the
tempter within me said … 'And; now you have flung down the pen; you
may as well fling yourself out of the window; what remains for you
to do?' Why; to take it up again; thought I to myself; for I did
not like the latter suggestion at all … and then forthwith I
resumed the pen; and wrote with greater vigour than before; from
about six o'clock in the evening until I could hardly see; when I
rested for a while; when the tempter within me again said; or
appeared to say … 'All you have been writing is stuff; it will
never do … a drug … a mere drug'; and methought these last words
were uttered in the gruff tones of the big publisher。 'A thing
merely to be sneezed at;' a voice like that of Taggart added; and
then I seemed to hear a sternutation; … as I probably did; for;
recovering from a kind of swoon; I found myself shivering with
cold。 The next day I brought my work to a conclusion。
But the task of revision still remained; for an hour or two I
shrank from it; and remained gazing stupidly at the pile of paper
which I had written over。 I was all but exhausted; and I dreaded;
on inspecting the sheets; to find them full of absurdities which I
had paid no regard to in the furor of composition。 But the task;
however trying to my nerves; must be got over; at last; in a kind
of desperation; I entered upon it。 It was far from an easy one;
there were; however; fewer errors and absurdities than I had
anticipated。 About twelve o'clock at night I had got over the task
of revision。 'To…morrow for the bookseller;' said I; as my head
sank on the pillow。 'Oh me!'
CHAPTER LVII
Nervous look … The bookseller's wife … The last stake … Terms … God
forbid! … Will you come to tea? … A light heart。
ON arriving at the bookseller's shop; I cast a nervous look at the
window; for the purpose of observing whether the paper had been
removed or not。 To my great delight the paper was in its place;
with a beating heart I entered; there was nobody in the shop; as I
stood at the counter; however; deliberating whether or not I should
call out; the door of what seemed to be a back…parlour opened; and
out came a well…dressed lady…like female; of about thirty; with a
good…looking and intelligent countenance。 'What is your business;
young man?' said she to me; after I had made her a polite bow。 'I
wish to speak to the gentleman of the house;' said I。 'My husband
is not within at present;' she replied; 'what is your business?'
'I have merely brought something to show him;' said I; 'but I will
call again。' 'If you are the young gentleman who has been here
before;' said the lady; 'with poems and ballads; as; indeed; I know
you are;' she added; smiling; 'for I have seen you through the
glass door; I am afraid it will be useless; that is;' she added
with another smile; 'if you bring us nothing else。' 'I have not
brought you poems and ballads now;' said I; 'but something widely
different; I saw your advertisement for a tale or a novel; and have
written something which I think will suit; and here it is;' I
added; showing the roll of paper which I held in my hand。 'Well;'
said the bookseller's wife; 'you may leave it; though I cannot
promise you much chance of its being accepted。 My husband has
already had several offered to him; however; you may leave it; give
it me。 Are you afraid to intrust it to me?' she demanded somewhat
hastily; observing that I hesitated。 'Excuse me;' said I; 'but it
is all I have to depend upon in the world; I am chiefly
apprehensive that it will not be read。' 'On that point I can
reassure you;' said the good lady; smiling; and there was now
something sweet in her smile。 'I give you my word that it shall be
read; come again to…morrow mo
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