Дэвид Копперфильд

           Micawberviolentlygesticulatingwithhispocket-handkerchief,andfairlystrikingoutfromtimetotimewithbotharms,asifhewereswimmingundersuperhumandifficulties.‘Iwillleadthislifenolonger.Iamawretchedbeing,cutofffromeverythingthatmakeslifetolerable.IhavebeenunderaTaboointhatinfernalscoundrel’sservice.Givemebackmywife,givemebackmyfamily,substituteMicawberforthepettywretchwhowalksaboutinthebootsatpresentonmyfeet,andcalluponmetoswallowaswordtomorrow,andI’lldoit.Withanappetite!’

           Ineversawamansohotinmylife.Itriedtocalmhim,thatwemightcometosomethingrational;buthegothotterandhotter,andwouldn’thearaword.

           ‘I’llputmyhandinnoman’shand,’saidMr.Micawber,gasping,puffing,andsobbing,tothatdegreethathewaslikeamanfightingwithcoldwater,‘untilIhave—blowntofragments—the-a—detestable—serpent—HEEP!I’llpartakeofnoone’shospitality,untilIhave—a—movedMountVesuvius—toeruption-on—a—theabandonedrascal—HEEP!Refreshment—a—underneaththisroof—particularlypunch—would—a—chokeme—unless—Ihad—previously—chokedtheeyes—outofthehead—a—of—interminablecheat,andliar—HEEP!I—a-I’llknownobody—and—a—saynothing—and—a—livenowhere—untilIhavecrushed—to—a—undiscoverableatoms—the—transcendentandimmortalhypocriteandperjurer—HEEP!’

           IreallyhadsomefearofMr.