PC World 2008 April/PCWorld_2008-04_cd.bin/domacnost a kancelar/pctranslator/TRNDEMO.exe/ROBINSON.TXT

Text File | 1999-09-29 | 19.8 KB | 325 lines

                       THE COMPLETE HISTORY OF THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF


                                                               ROBINSON GRUSOE

                                                                                   by

                                                                       DANIEL DEFOE


  I was born in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a good family,
  though not of that country, my father being a foreigner of Bremen,
  who settled first at Hull: he got a good estate by merchandise, and,
leaving off' his trade, lived afterward at York, from whence he had
  married my mother, whose relations were named Robinson, a very
good family in that country, and from whom I was called Robinson
  Kreutznaer but, by the usual corruption of words in England, we
are now called, nay, we call ourselves, and write our name Crusoe,
and so my companions always called me.
  I had two elder brothers, one of which was lieutenant-colonel to
an English regiment of foot in Flanders, formerly commanded by
the famous Colonel Lockhart, and was killed at the battle near
Dunkirk against the Spaniards: what became of my second brother
I never knew any more than my father or mother did know what
was become of me.
  Being the third son of the family and not bred to any trade my
head began to be filled very early with rambling thoughts. My father,
who was very ancient, had given me a competent share of learning,
as far as house education and a country free school generally goes,
and designed me for the law; but I would be satisfied with nothing
but going to sea and my inclination to this led me so strongly against
the will, nay, the commands of my father, and against all the entreaties
 and persuasions of my mother and other friends, that there
seemed to be something fatal in that propension of nature tending
directly to the life of misery which was to befall me.
  My father, a wise and grave man, gave me serious and excel-
lent counsel against what he foresaw was my design. He called me
one morning into his chamber, where he was confined by the gout,
and expostulated very warmly with me upon this subject. He asked
me what reasons more than a mere wandering inclination I had for
leaving my father's house and my native country, where I might be
well introduced, and had a prospect of raising my fortune by application
and industry, with a life of ease and pleasure. He told me it
was for men of desperate fortunes on one hand, or of aspiring,
superior fortunes on the other, who went abroad upon adventures,
to rise by enterprise and make themselves famous in undertakings a
of a nature out of the common road; that these things were all either
too far above me, or too far below me; that mine was the middle
state, or what might be called the upper station of low life, which he
had found by long experience was the best state in the world, the



most suited to human happiness, not exposed to the miseries and
hardships, the labour and sufferings of the mechanic part of mankind,
 and not embarrassed with the pride, luxury, ambition, and
envy of the upper part of mankind. He told me I might judge of the
happiness of this state by this one thing-namely, that this was the
state of life which all other people envied that kings have frequently
lamented the miserable consequences of being born to great things,
and wish they had been placed in the middle of the two extremes
between the mean and the great; that the wise man gave his testimony
to this as the just standard of true felicity, when he prayed to have
neither poverty nor riches.
  He bid me observe it, and I should always find that the calamities
of life were shared among the upper and lower part of mankind;
but that the middle station had the fewest disasters and was not
exposed to so many vicissitudes as the higher or lower part of
mankind; nay, they were not subjected to so many distempers and
uneasinesses either of body or mind, as those were who, by vicious
living, luxury, and extravagances on one hand, or by hard labour,
want of necessaries, and mean or insufficient diet on the other hand
bring distempers upon themselves by the natural consequences of
 their way of living; that the middle station of life was calculated for
all kind of virtues and all kind of enjoyments, that peace and plenty
were the handmaids of a middle fortune; that temperance, moderation,
quietness, health, society, all agreeable diversions and all
desirable pleasures, were the blessings attending the middle station
of life; that this way men went silently and smoothly through the
  world, and comfortably out of it, not embarrassed with the labours
  of the hands or of the head, not sold to the life of slavery for daily
  bread or harassed with perplexed circumstances which rob the
  soul of peace and the body of rest not enraged with the passion of
  envy, or secret burning lust of ambition for great things; but in easy
  circumstances sliding gently through the world and sensibly tasting
  the sweets of living, without the bitter; feeling, that they are happy,
  and learning by every day's experience to know it more sensibly.
  After this, he pressed me earnestly, and in the most affectionate
  manner, not to play the young man, not to precipitate myself into
  miseries which nature and the station of life I was born in seemed to
  have provided against; that I was under no necessity of seeking my
  bread; that he would do well for me, and éendeavour to enter me
  fairly into the station of life which he had been just recommending
  to me; and that if I was not very easy and happy in the world, it must
  be my mere fate or fault that must hinder it, and that he should have
  nothing to answer for, having thus discharged his duty in warning
  me against measures which he knew would be to my hurt. In a word,
  that as he would do very kind things for me if I would stay and settle
  at home, as he directed, so he would not have so much hand in my
  misfortunes, as to give me any encouragement to go away. And, to
  close all, he told me I had my elder brother for an example, to whom


he had used the same earnest persuasions to keep him from going
into the Low Country wars, but could not prevail, his young desires
prompting him to run into the army, where he was killed; and
though, he said, he would not cease to pray for me, yet he would
venture to say to me that, if I did take this foolish step, God would
not bless me and I would have leisure hereafter to reflect upon having
 neglected his counsel when there might be none to assist in my
recovery.
  I observed in this last part of his discourse, which was truly prophetic,
though I suppose my father did not know it to be so himself
I say I observed the tears run down his face very plentifully and
especially when he spoke of my brother who was killed; and that
when he spoke of my having leisure to repent, and none to assist
me, he was so moved that he broke off the discourse, and told me
his heart was so full he could say no more to me.
  I was sincerely affected with this discourse-as indeed who could
be otherwise?-and I resolved not to think of going abroad any
more, but to settle at home according to my father's desire. But, alas!
a few days wore it all off; and, in short, to prevent any of my father's
further importunities, in a few weeks areer I resolved to run quite
away from him.
  It was not till almost a year after this that I broke loose, though in
the meantime I continued obstinately deaf to all proposals of settling
to business, and frequently expostulating with my father and mother
about their being so positively determined against what they knew
my inclinations prompted me to. But being one day at Hull, where
I went casually, and without any purpose of making an elopement
that time; but, I say, being there, and one of my companions being
going to sea to London in his father's ship and prompting me to go
with them, with the common allurement of seafaring men - namely,
that it should cost me nothing for my passage-I consulted neither
father nor mother any more, nor so much as sent them word of it;
but, leaving them to hear of it as they might, without asking God's
blessing, or my father's; without any consideration of circumstances
or consequences, and in an ill hour, God knows, on the 1st of September,
1651, I went on board a ship bound for London. Never any
young adventurer's misfortunes, I believe, began sooner, or continued
 longer than mine. The ship was no sooner gotten out of the
Humber but the wind began to blow, and the waves to rise in a most
frightful manner; and, as I had never been at sea before, I was most
inexpressibly sick in body and terrified in my mind. I began now
seriously to reflect upon what I had done, and how justly I was overtaken
by the judgement of Heaven for my wicked leaving my father's
house, and abandoning my duty; all the good counsel of my parents,
my father's tears and my mother's entreaties, came now fresh into
my mind; and my conscience, which was not yet come to the pitch of
hardness to which it has been since, reproached me with the contempt
 of advice, and the breach of my duty to God and my father.



  All this while the storm increased, and the sea, which I had never
been upon before, went very high, though nothing like what I have
seen many times since; no, nor like what I saw a few days after. But
it was enough to affect me then, who was but a young sailor and had
never known anything of the matter. I expected every wave would
have swallowed us up, and that every time the ship fell down, as I
thought, in the trough or hollow of the sea, we should never rise
more; and in this agony of mind I made many vows and resolutions,
that if it would please God here to spare my life this one voyage, if
ever I got once my foot upon dry land again, I would go directly
home to my father, and never set it into a ship again while I lived;
that I would take his advice, and never run myself into such miseries
as these any more. Now I saw plainly the goodness of his observations
about the middle station of life; how easy, how comfortably he
had lived all his days, and never had been exposed to tempests at
sea, or troubles on shore; and I resolved that I would, like a true
repenting prodigal, go home to my father.
  These wise and sober thoughts continued all the while the storm
continued, and indeed some time after; but the next day the wind
was abated and the sea calmer, and I began to be a little inured to
it. However, I was very grave for all that day, being also a tittle seasick
still; but towards night the weather cheared up, the wind was
quite over, and a charming fine evening followed; the sun went
down perfectly clear, and rose so the next morning; and having little
or no wind, and a smooth sea, the sun shining upon it, the sight was,
as I thought, the most delightful that ever I saw.
  I had slept well in the night, and was now no more sea-sick but
very cheerful, looking with wonder upon the sea that was so rough
and terrible the day before, and could be so calm and so pleasant in
so little time after. And now, lest my good resolutions should continue,
my companion, who had indeed enticed me away, comes to
me-"Well, Bob," says he, clapping me on the shoulder, "how do
you do after it? I warrant you were frighted, wan't you, last night
when it blew but a capful of wind?"-"A capful, d'you call it?" said
I; "'twas a terrible storm."-"A storm, you fool you!" replies he;
"do you call that a storm? Why, it was nothing at all! Give us but
a good ship and sea-room, and we think nothing of such a squall
of wind as that. But you're but a fresh-water sailor, Bob. Come, let
us make a bowl of punch, and we'll forget all that. D'ye see what
charming weather 'tis now?" To make short this sad part of my
story, we went the old way of all sailors. The punch was made, and I
was made drunk with it. And in that one night's wickedness I
drowned all my repentance, all my reflections upon my past conduct,
and all my resolutions for my future. In a word, as the sea was
returned to its smoothness of surface and settled calmness by the
abatement of that storm, so-the hurry of my thoughts being over,
my fears and apprehensions of being swallowed up by the sea being
forgotten, and the current of my former desires returned-I entire-

ly forgot the vows and promises that I made in my distress. I found,
indeed, some intervals of reflection, and the serious thoughts did,
as it were, endeavour to return again sometimes; but I shook them
off, and roused myself from them as it were from a distemper, and
applying myself to drinking and company, soon mastered the return
of those fits-for so I called them-and I had in five or six days got
as complete a victory over conscience as any young fellow, that
resolved not to be troubled with it, could desire. But I was to have
another trial for it still; and Providence, as in such cases generally it
does, resolved to leave me entirely without excuse. For if I would
not take this for a deliverance, the next was to be such a one as the
worst and most hardened wretch among us would confess both the
danger and the mercy.
  The sixth day of our being at sea we came into Yarmouth Roads;
the wind having been contrary and the weather calm, we had made
but little way since the storm. Here we were obliged to come to an
anchor, and hiere we lay, the wind continuing contrary-namely, at
south-west-for seven or eight days, during which time a great many
ships from Newcastle came into the same roads as the common harbour
 where the ships might wait for a wind for the river.
  We had not, however, rid here so long, but we should have tided
it up the river, but that the wind blew too fresh; and after we had
lain four or five days, blew very hard. However, the roads being
reckoned as good as a harbour, the anchorage good, and our
ground-tackle very strong our men were unconcerned, and not in
the least apprehensive of danger, but spent the time in rest and
mirth, after the manner of the sea; but the eighth day, in the
morning, the wind increased, and we had all hands at work to strike
our top-masts, and make everything snug and close, that the ship
might ride as easy as possible. By noon the sea went very high indeed,
and our slaip rid forecastle in, shipped several seas, and we
thought once or twice our anchor had come home, upon which our
master ordered out the sheet-anchor; so that we rode with two
anchors ahead, and the cabkes veered out to the better end.
  By this time it blew a terrible storm indeed, and now I began to
see terror and,amazement in the faces even of the seamen themselves.
The master, though vigilant in the business of preserving the
ship, yet, as he went in and out of his cabin by me, I could hear him
softly to himself say several times, "Lord, be merciful to us; we shall
be all lost, we shall be all undone," and the like. During these first
hurries I was stupid, lying still in my cabin, which was in the steerage,
and cannot describe my temper. I could ill reassume the first
penitence, which I had so apparently trampled upon and hardened
myself against. I thought the bitterness of death had been past, and
that this would be nothing too, like the first. But when the rnaster
himself came by me, as I said just now, and said we should be all
lost, I was dreadfully frighted. I got up out of my cabin and looked
out; but such a dismal sight I never saw.

The sea went mountains high, and broke upon us every three or four
minutes. When I could
look about, I could see nothing but distress round us. Two ships that
rid near us we found had cut their masts by the board, being deep
laden; and our men cried out that a ship which rid about a mile
ahead of us was foundered. Two more ships, being driven from
their anchors, were run out of the roads to sea at all adventures, and
that with not a mast standing. The light ships fared the best, as not so
much labouring in the sea; but two or three of them drove and
came close by us, running away with only their sprit-sail out before
the wind.
  Towards evening the mate and boatswain begged the master of
our ship to let them cut away the foremast which he was very
unwilling to; but the boatswain protesting to him that if he did not
the ship would founder, he consented; and when they had cut away
the foremast, the main-mast stood so loose and shook the ship -so
much, they were obliged to cut her away also, and make a clear deck.
  Any one may judge what a condition I must be in at all this, who
was but a young sailor, and who had been in such a fright before at
but a little. But if I can express at this distance the thoughts I had
about me at that time, I was in tenfold more horror of mind upon
account of my former convictions and the having returned from
them to the resolutions I had wickedly taken at first, than I was at
death itself; and these, added to the terror of the storm, put me into
such a condition that I can by no words describe it. But the worst
was not come yet. The storm continued with such fury, that the seamen
 themselves acknowiedged they had never known a worse. We
had a good ship; but she was deep laden and wallowed in the sea,
that the seamen every now and then cried out she would founder. It
was my advantage in one respect that I did not know what they
meant by founder till I inquired. However, the storm was so violent
that I saw what is not often seen-the master, the boatswain, and
some others more sensible than the rest, at their prayers, and
expecting every moment when the ship would go to the bottom. In
the middle of the night, and under all the rest of our distresses, one
of the men that had been down on purpose to see, cried out we had
sprung a leak; another said there was four foot of water in the hold.
  Then all hands were called to the pump. At that very word my
heart, as I thought, died within me, and I fell backwards upon the
side of my bed where I sat, into the cabin. However, the men roused
me, and told me that I, that was able to do nothing before, was as
well able to pump as another, at which I stirred up and went to the
pump, and worked very heartily. While this was doing, the master,
seeing some light colliers, who, not able to ride out the storm were
obliged to slip and run away to sea, and would corne near us, ordered
to fire a gun as a signal of distress. I who knew nothing what that
meant, was so surprised, that I thought the ship had broke, or some
dreadful thing had happened. In a word I was so surprised that I
fell down in a swoon. As this was a time when everybody had his own


life to think of, nobody minded me, or what was become of me; but
another man stepped up to the pump and thrusting me aside with
his foot, let me lie, thinking I had been dead; and it was a great
while before I came to myself.
  We worked on; but the water inereasing in the hold, it was
apparent that the ship would foundery and though the storm began
to abate a little, yet as it was not possible she could swim till we might
run into a port, so the master continued firing guns for help, and a
light ship, who had rid it out just ahead of us ventured a boat out to
help us. It was with the utmost hazard the boat came near us; but it
was impossible for us to get on board, or for the boat to lie near the
ship's side, till at last, the men rowing very heartily, and venturing
their lives to save ours, our men cast them a rope over the stern with
a buoy to it, and then veered it out a great length which they, after
great labour and hazard, took hold of, and we hauled them close
under our stern, and got all into their boat. It was to no purpose
for them or us after we were in the boat to think of reaching to their
own ship, so all agreed to let her drive, and only to pull her in
towards shore as much as we could; and our master promised them,