my father's family name being pirrip, and my christian name philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than pip. so, i called myself pip, and came to be called pip.
i give pirrip as my father's family name, on the authority of his tombstone and my sister - mrs joe gargery, who married the blacksmith. as i never saw my father or my mother, and never saw any likeness of either of them (for their days were long before the days of photographs), my first fancies regarding what they were like, were unreasonably derived from their tombstones. the shape of the letters on my father's, gave me an odd idea that he was a square, stout, dark man, with curly black hair. from the character and turn of the inscription, `also georgiana wife of the above,' i drew a childish conclusion that my mother was freckled and sickly. to five little stone lozenges, each about a foot and a half long, which were arranged in a neat row beside their grave, and were sacred to the memory of five little brothers of mine - who gave up trying to get a living, exceedingly early in that universal struggle - i am indebted for a belief i religiously entertained that they had all been born on their backs with their hands in their trousers-pockets, and had never taken them out in this state of existence.
ours was the marsh country, down by the river, within, as the river wound, twenty miles of the sea. my first most vivid and broad impression of the identity of things, seems to me to have been gained on a memorable raw afternoon towards evening. at such a time i found out for certain, that this bleak place overgrown with nettles was the churchyard; and that philip pirrip, late of this parish, and also georgiana wife of the above, were dead and buried; and that alexander, bartholomew, abraham, tobias, and roger, infant children of the aforesaid, were also dead and buried; and that the dark flat wilderness beyond the churchyard, intersected with dykes and mounds and gates, with scattered cattle feeding on it, was the marshes; and that the low leaden line beyond, was the river; and that the distant savage lair from which the wind was rushing, was the sea; and that the small bundle of shivers growing afraid of it all and beginning to cry, was pip.
`hold your noise!' cried a terrible voice, as a man started up from among the graves at the side of the church porch. `keep still, you little devil, or i'll cut your throat!'
a fearful man, all in coarse grey, with a great iron on his leg. a man with no hat, and with broken shoes, and with an old rag tied round his head. a man who had been soaked in water, and smothered in mud, and lamed by stones, and cut by flints, and stung by nettles, and torn by briars; who limped, and shivered, and glared and growled; and whose teeth chattered in his head as he seized me by the chin.
`o! don't cut my throat, sir,' i pleaded in terror. `pray don't do it, sir.'
`tell us your name!' said the man. `quick!'
`pip, sir.'
`once more,' said the man, staring at me. `give it mouth!'
`pip. pip, sir.'
`show us where you live,' said the man. `pint out the place!'
i pointed to where our village lay, on the flat in-shore among the alder-trees and pollards, a mile or more from the church.
the man, after looking at me for a moment, turned me upside down, and emptied my pockets. there was nothing in them but a piece of bread. when the church came to itself - for he was so sudden and strong that he made it go head over heels before me, and i saw the steeple under my feet - when the church came to itself, i say, i was seated on a high tombstone, trembling, while he ate the bread ravenously.
`you young dog,' said the man, licking his lips, `what fat cheeks you ha' got.'
i believe they were fat, though i was at that time undersized for my years, and not strong.
`darn me if i couldn't eat em,' said the man, with a threatening shake of his head, `and if i han't half a mind to't!'
i earnestly expressed my hope that he wouldn't, and held tighter to the tombstone on which he had put me; partly, to keep myself upon it; partly, to keep myself from crying.
`now lookee here!' said the man. `where's your mother?'
`there, sir!' said i.
he started, made a short run, and stopped and looked over his shoulder.
`there, sir!' i timidly explained. `also georgiana. that's my mother.'
`oh!' said he, coming back. `and is that your father alonger your mother?'
`yes, sir,' said i; `him too; late of this parish.'
`ha!' he muttered then, considering. `who d'ye live with - supposin' you're kindly let to live, which i han't made up my mind about?'
`my sister, sir - mrs joe gargery - wife of joe gargery, the blacksmith, sir.'
`blacksmith, eh?' said he. and looked down at his leg.
after darkly looking at his leg and me several times, he came closer to my tombstone, took me by both arms, and tilted me back as far as he could hold me; so that his eyes looked most powerfully down into mine, and mine looked most helplessly up into his.
`now lookee here,' he said, `the question being whether you're to be let to live. you know what a file is?'
`yes, sir.'
`and you know what wittles is?'
`yes, sir.'
after each question he titled me over a little more, so as to give me a greater sense of helplessness and danger.
`you get me a file.' he tilted me again. `and you get me wittles.' he tilted me again. `you bring 'em both to me.' he tilted me again. `or i'll have your heart and liver out.' he tilted me again.
i was dreadfully frightened, and so giddy that i clung to him with both hands, and said, `if you would kindly please to let me keep upright, sir, perhaps i shouldn't be sick, and perhaps i could attend more.'
he gave me a most tremendous dip and roll, so that the church jumped over its own weather-cock. then, he held me by the arms, in an upright position on the top of the stone, and went on in these fearful terms:
`you bring me, to-morrow morning early, that file and them wittles. you bring the lot to me, at that old battery over yonder. you do it, and you never dare to say a word or dare to make a sign concerning your having seen such a person as me, or any person sumever, and you shall be let to live. you fail, or you go from my words in any partickler, no matter how small it is, and your heart and your liver shall be tore out, roasted and ate. now, i ain't alone, as you may think i am. there's a young man hid with me, in comparison with which young man i am a angel. that young man hears the words i speak. that young man has a secret way pecooliar to himself, of getting at a boy, and at his heart, and at his liver. it is in wain for a boy to attempt to hide himself from that young man. a boy may lock his door, may be warm in bed, may tuck himself up, may draw the clothes over his head, may think himself comfortable and safe, but that young man will softly creep and creep his way to him and tear him open. i am a keeping that young man from harming of you at the present moment, with great difficulty. i find it wery hard to hold that young man off of your inside. now, what do you say?'
i said that i would get him the file, and i would get him what broken bits of food i could, and i would come to him at the battery, early in the morning.
`say lord strike you dead if you don't!' said the man.
i said so, and he took me down.
`now,' he pursued, `you remember what you've undertook, and you remember that young man, and you get home!'
`goo-good night, sir,' i faltered.
`much of that!' said he, glancing about him over the cold wet flat. `i wish i was a frog. or a eel!'
at the same time, he hugged his shuddering body in both his arms - clasping himself, as if to hold himself together - and limped towards the low church wall. as i saw him go, picking his way among the nettles, and among the brambles that bound the green mounds, he looked in my young eyes as if he were eluding the hands of the dead people, stretching up cautiously out of their graves, to get a twist upon his ankle and pull him in.
when he came to the low church wall, he got over it, like a man whose legs were numbed and stiff, and then turned round to look for me. when i saw him turning, i set my face towards home, and made the best use of my legs. but presently i looked over my shoulder, and saw him going on again towards the river, still hugging himself in both arms, and picking his way with his sore feet among the great stones dropped into the marshes here and there, for stepping-places when the rains were heavy, or the tide was in.
the marshes were just a long black horizontal line then, as i stopped to look after him; and the river was just another horizontal line, not nearly so broad not yet so black; and the sky was just a row of long angry red lines and dense black lines intermixed. on the edge of the river i could faintly make out the only two black things in all the prospect that seemed to be standing upright; one of these was the beacon by which the sailors steered - like an unhooped cask upon a pole - an ugly thing when you were near it; the other a gibbet, with some chains hanging to it which had once held a pirate. the man was limping on towards this latter, as if he were the pirate come to life, and come down, and going back to hook himself up again. if gave me a terrible turn when i thought so; and as i saw the cattle lifting their heads to gaze after him, i wondered whether they thought so too. i looked all round for the horrible young man, and could see no sings of him. but, now i was frightened again, and ran home without stopping.
我父亲的姓是皮利普，而我的教名是菲利普。在我幼年时期，无论是皮利普还是菲利普，我既发不出这么长的音节，又咬字不清，只能发出皮普。所以，我干脆就把自己叫做皮普，以后别人也就跟着叫我皮普了。
我说皮利普是我父亲的姓，那是有根据的，因为我父亲的墓碑上刻着他的姓，而且我姐姐也这么说。我姐姐嫁给了铁匠乔·葛奇里，现在是葛奇里夫人了。至于我，从来没有见到过父亲和母亲，也没有看到过他们两位的照片（其实在他们的时代还不知道什么是照片呢）。最初在我的想象中也有父母亲的模样，那是根据他们的墓碑字形乱造出来的。我父亲墓碑上的字体使我产生了一个奇怪的想法，认为他是个方方正正。胖胖墩墩的黑皮汉子，有一头的黑色鬈发。再看看墓碑上镌刻的另外几个字。“及上述者之妻乔其雅娜”，我又得出一个幼稚的结论：我的母亲脸上生着雀斑，而且体弱多病。在我父母的坟边，整齐地排着五块小小的菱形石碑，每一块大约有一英尺半高。这就是我五位小兄长的坟墓。在这大千世界的现实斗争中，他们早早地放弃了求生，一个接一个离世而去。此情此景，使我萌生出一种类似宗教情感的信念，坚信我的五位小兄长一生出来就双手插在裤袋里，面孔朝天，而且从来没有把手拿出来过，和现在躺在墓中的样子相同。
我们的家乡是一片沼泽地区。那儿有一条河流。沿河蜿蜒而下，到海不足二十英里。我领略世面最初、最生动的印象似乎得自于一个令人难以忘怀的下午，而且正是向晚时分。就在那时我才弄清楚，这一片长满荨麻的荒凉之地正是乡村的教堂墓地；已故的本教区居民菲利普·皮利普及上述者之妻乔其雅娜已死，双双埋葬于此；还有阿历克山大、巴斯奥鲁米、亚布拉罕、特比亚斯和罗吉尔，他们的五位婴儿已死，也都埋葬于此。就在那时我才弄清楚，在这坟场的前面，一片幽暗平坦的荒凉之地便是沼泽，那里沟渠纵横，小丘起伏，闸门交错，还有散布的零星牲畜，四处寻食；从沼泽地再往前的那一条低低的铅灰色水平线正是河流；而那更远的、像未开化的洞穴并刮起狂风的地方，自然就是大海。就在那时我才弄清楚，面对这片景色而越来越感到害怕，并哇地一声哭起来的小不点儿，正是我皮普。
“闭嘴！”突然响起一声令人毛骨悚然的叫喊，同时，有一个人从教堂门廊一边的墓地里蹿了出来。“不许出声，你这个小鬼精；你只要一出声我就掐断你的脖子！”
这是一个面容狰狞的人，穿了一身劣质的灰色衣服，腿上挂了一条粗大沉重的铁镣。他头上没有帽子，只用一块破布扎住头，脚上的鞋已经破烂。看上去他曾在水中浸泡过，在污泥中忍受过煎熬。他的腿被石头碰伤了，脚又被小石块割破，荨麻的针刺和荆棘的拉刺使得他身上出现一道道伤口。他一跛一跛地走着，全身发着抖，还瞪着双眼吼叫着。他一把抓住我的下巴，而他嘴巴里的牙齿在格格打战。
“噢，先生，不要扭断我的脖子，”我惊恐地哀求着，“请你不要这样对待我，先生，我求你了。”
“告诉我你叫什么名字！”那个人说道，“快讲！”
“我叫皮普，先生。”
“你再说一遍！”那人说着，目光紧紧地盯住我，“张开嘴说清楚些。”
“皮普，皮普，先生。”
“告诉我你住在哪里，”那人说道，“把方向指给我看！”
我把我们村子的位置指给他看。村子就坐落在距离教堂一英里多远的平坦河岸上，四周矗立着赤杨树和截梢树。
这人打量了我一会儿，便把我头朝下地倒拎起来，我口袋里的东西也就掉了下来。其实口袋里只有一片面包，没有任何别的东西。等教堂又恢复原状时——因为刚才他猛然把我头朝下地翻了个个儿，我看到教堂的尖顶在我的脚下——而现在，我是说，教堂又恢复了原样时，我已经被他按坐在一块高高的墓碑上，全身打着哆嗦，而他却狼吞虎咽地吃起了那块面包。
“你这条小狗，”他一面舔着嘴唇，一面说道，“你这张小脸蛋倒生得肥肥的。”
从我的年龄来说，虽然我的个头不大，体质也不强壮，但是我的脸蛋儿确实有些肥。
“他妈的，我吃不了你的脸蛋儿才怪呢，”他说着，威胁性地摇晃了一下脑袋，“我真想把你这脸蛋吃掉。”
我连忙恳切地希望他无论如何不要吃我的脸蛋儿，同时紧紧地抓住他把我按上去的那块墓碑。这样，一则我可以坐稳不至于摔下来，二则可以忍住眼泪不至于哭出来。
“看着我，”那人说道，“你妈妈在什么地方？”
“在那里，先生。”我答道。
听了我的话，他大吃一惊，立刻拔脚就逃，跑了几步又停下来，口过头看了看。
“就在那里，先生！”我心惊肉跳地向他解释着，“那里写着乔其雅娜几个字，那就是我的妈妈。”
“噢！”他说道，又跑了回来，“那么和你妈妈葬在一起的是你的爸爸喽？”
我答道：“一点不错，先生，是我爸爸。那里写着‘已故的本教区居民’。”
“哈！”他嘟嘟哝哝、若有所思地说道，“你和谁住在一起——假设我不杀你，让你活下去，你和谁一起生活？当然，我还没有决定究竟让不让你活下去。”
“我和姐姐一起生活，先生，她就是乔·葛奇里夫人，也就是铁匠乔·葛奇里的妻子，先生。”
“哦，是铁匠？”他一面说着，一面低下头去看他的腿。
他忧郁而又阴沉地看看他的腿，又看看我。这么来回看了几次之后，他走近我坐着的墓碑，两手抓住我的双肩，尽量把我的身体向后按，以使他那双威严无比、咄咄逼人的眼睛紧盯着我的双眼，似乎眼光射进了我的眼球深处，而我的两眼只能无可奈何地仰望着他的眼睛。
他对我说道：“仔细听着，现在的问题是究竟让不让你活。我问你，你懂不懂什么是锉子？”
“懂，先生。”
“我再问你，你懂不懂什么是食物？”
“懂，先生。”
他每提出一个问题，便把我的身体向后按一点儿，为的是使我感到无路可走，危险迫在眼前。
“我要你给弄一把锉子来，”他把我又按了一下说，“再给我弄些吃的东西来。”说着，他又把我向后按了一下。“这两样东西都要拿来。”他再一次把我向后按。“你要不拿来，我就把你的心肝五脏都掏出来。”说完，他又把我向后按了一下。
我简直怕得要命，给弄得头晕目眩，禁不住用双手把他紧紧抓住。我对他说：“请你大发慈悲吧，让我的身体直起来，再这样说不定我会吐出来，身体一直我就会听清楚你讲的究竟是什么了。”
于是他猛力地把我一推，使我滚到地上，这一滚似乎连教堂都跳了起来，而且跳得比屋顶上面的定风针还要高。然后，他又抓住我的两臂，把我提到墓碑的上头，直坐在上面，而他却继续讲着那些令人恐惧的话。
“明天一大清早，你要把锉子和吃的东西带给我。你要把这些东西都送到那边的老炮台前给我。你为我办事，而且不透半句风声，不露一丝痕迹，不让任何人知道你遇到一个像我这样的人，或者遇到过什么人，我才会留你一条活命。要是你不给我办事，或者你哪怕有半句话不听我的，不论这话多么微不足道，我一定会把你的心肝五脏挖出来，放在火上烤熟，再把它们吃掉。你要晓得，不要以为我只是孤零零一个人，和我一块儿正躲着一个年轻小伙子呢。你别以为我是个恶魔，和那个年轻伙伴比起来，我简直是个天使。他正躲在那儿听我们讲话。这个年轻人还有一套奇特的秘密方法，会捉小男孩，挖出小男孩的心吃，然后再挖出肝来吃。小孩子想让这个年轻人不知道他，想躲着年轻人都是不行的。即使小孩子锁上了房门，睡在温暖的床上，用被子裹住自己，再把衣服蒙在头上，以为自己既舒服又保险，可这青年人会轻轻地爬呀，爬呀，一直爬到小孩的床边，把他的胸膛撕开。不过你放心，我现在花了很大的劲，已经使这个青年人不会加害你。当然，我也没法子让他永远不伤害你，因为这是很难的。好了，现在你有什么要说的？”
我说我一定带给他一把锉子，一定为他带些吃的东西，哪怕只能是残剩粗食。我说明天一大清早我一定会来到炮台前把东西交给他。
“那么你发誓，要是你不送来，天主就用雷电劈死你。”那人说道。
我照他的活起了誓，他这才把我从墓碑顶上抱下来，并且继续说道：
“听着，不要忘记你说过的话、该做的事；也不要忘记那个年轻人。现在，你可以回家了。”
“晚——晚安，先生！”我吓得连话也说不清楚了。
“够了，不要再说了！”他说着，用目光扫视着四周一片阴冷潮湿的沼泽滩地。“我真希望变成一只青蛙，要么，一条泥鳅也行。”
他一边咒骂着，一边用两条胳膊紧紧地抱住自己发抖的身体，好像一不抱紧，整副身体的骨架就要散掉。他抬起两条伤腿一跛一拐地向着低矮的教堂围墙走去。我看着他离开，走进了尊麻丛生、荆棘萦绕、长满青草的坟堆之中。从我幼稚的想象出发，他好像在躲闪坟中死人伸出来的手，生怕它们一把拖住他的脚踝，把他拉进坟墓同住。
他走到那堵低矮的教堂围墙前，从墙头上爬过去。他的两条腿看上去简直冻得麻木僵直，不听使唤了。过了墙头，他又回过头来望了望我。看到他转过脸，我立刻头也不回地朝着家里奔去，拼命地迈动着我的两条腿。然后，我掉过头，看到他正朝着大河走去。他仍然把身体紧紧地用两条臂膀裹着，拖着疼痛的双脚在许多大石块中拣道而行。因为这里是一片沼泽地，一遇大雨，或者潮水上涌，就难以通行，所以把大石块放在沼泽地中可以作为垫脚石。
在我停下来用目光追随着他的身影时，整个沼泽地已成为一条既长又黑的水平线，而那条河流却成为另一条水平线，虽然它没有前者那么宽，那么黑。这时的天空已变成一行交织的带子，怒红浓黑相间。我模模糊糊地分辨出，在大河边上直挺挺地站着两个幽灵般的黑东西。其中之一是航标灯，水手就要依靠它来掌舵。这航标灯好像是一只脱了箍的桶，高挂在杆子上。你越是走近它，它越显得丑陋。另一个黑东西是绞刑架，还有一根铁链悬在上面。那里曾经吊死过一个海盗。现在，那人正一瘸一拐地向着绞刑架走去，仿佛他就是复活了的海盗，已经从绞刑架上走下来，现在正回去重新吊上绞刑架。我如此想着。这可怕的想象使我毛骨悚然。吃草的牲畜也抬起头凝视着他的身影，我真想知道，牛儿所想是否和我的一样。我环视四周，寻找那个令人恐怖的年轻人，然而连一点迹象也没有。这时，我惊慌失措，没命地向家里奔去，再也不敢停留一下。