Antipathy is the only word which can express the feeling Edward Crimsworth had for me — a feeling, in a great measure, involuntary, and which was liable to be excited by every, the most trifling14 movement, look, or word of mine. My southern accent annoyed him; the degree of education evinced in my language irritated him; my punctuality, industry, and accuracy, fixed15 his dislike, and gave it the high flavour and poignant16 relish17 of envy; he feared that I too should one day make a successful tradesman. Had I been in anything inferior to him, he would not have hated me so thoroughly18, but I knew all that he knew, and, what was worse, he suspected that I kept the padlock of silence on mental wealth in which he was no sharer. If he could have once placed me in a ridiculous or mortifying19 position, he would have forgiven me much, but I was guarded by three faculties — Caution, Tact20, Observation; and prowling and prying21 as was Edward’s malignity22, it could never baffle the lynx-eyes of these, my natural sentinels. Day by day did his malice23 watch my tact, hoping it would sleep, and prepared to steal snake-like on its slumber24; but tact, if it be genuine, never sleeps.
I had received my first quarter’s wages, and was returning to my lodgings, possessed25 heart and soul with the pleasant feeling that the master who had paid me grudged26 every penny of that hard-earned pittance27 —(I had long ceased to regard Mr. Crimsworth as my brother — he was a hard, grinding master; he wished to be an inexorable tyrant28: that was all). Thoughts, not varied29 but strong, occupied my mind; two voices spoke30 within me; again and again they uttered the same monotonous31 phrases. One said: “William, your life is intolerable.” The other: “What can you do to alter it?” I walked fast, for it was a cold, frosty night in January; as I approached my lodgings, I turned from a general view of my affairs to the particular speculation32 as to whether my fire would be out; looking towards the window of my sitting-room33, I saw no cheering red gleam.
“That slut of a servant has neglected it as usual,” said I, “and I shall see nothing but pale ashes if I go in; it is a fine starlight night — I will walk a little farther.”
It was a fine night, and the streets were dry and even clean for X——; there was a crescent curve of moonlight to be seen by the parish church tower, and hundreds of stars shone keenly bright in all quarters of the sky.
Unconsciously I steered34 my course towards the country; I had got into Grove35-street, and began to feel the pleasure of seeing dim trees at the extremity36, round a suburban37 house, when a person leaning over the iron gate of one of the small gardens which front the neat dwelling-houses in this street, addressed me as I was hurrying with quick stride past.
“What the deuce is the hurry? Just so must Lot have left Sodom, when he expected fire to pour down upon it, out of burning brass38 clouds.”
I stopped short, and looked towards the speaker. I smelt39 the fragrance40, and saw the red spark of a cigar; the dusk outline of a man, too, bent41 towards me over the wicket.
“You see I am meditating42 in the field at eventide,” continued this shade. “God knows it’s cool work! especially as instead of Rebecca on a camel’s hump, with bracelets43 on her arms and a ring in her nose, Fate sends me only a counting-house clerk, in a grey tweed wrapper.” The voice was familiar to me — its second utterance44 enabled me to seize the speaker’s identity.
“Mr. Hunsden! good evening.”
“Good evening, indeed! yes, but you would have passed me without recognition if I had not been so civil as to speak first.”
“I did not know you.”
“A famous excuse! You ought to have known me; I knew you, though you were going ahead like a steam-engine. Are the police after you?”
“It wouldn’t be worth their while; I’m not of consequence enough to attract them.
“Alas, poor shepherd! Alack and well-a-day! What a theme for regret, and how down in the mouth you must be, judging from the sound of your voice! But since you’re not running from the police, from whom are you running? the devil?”
“On the contrary, I am going post to him.”
“That is well — you’re just in luck: this is Tuesday evening; there are scores of market gigs and carts returning to Dinneford to-night; and he, or some of his, have a seat in all regularly; so, if you’ll step in and sit half-an-hour in my bachelor’s parlour, you may catch him as he passes without much trouble. I think though you’d better let him alone to-night, he’ll have so many customers to serve; Tuesday is his busy day in X—— and Dinneford; come in at all events.”
He swung the wicket open as he spoke.
“Do you really wish me to go in?” I asked.
“As you please — I’m alone; your company for an hour or two would be agreeable to me; but, if you don’t choose to favour me so far, I’ll not press the point. I hate to bore any one.”
It suited me to accept the invitation as it suited Hunsden to give it. I passed through the gate, and followed him to the front door, which he opened; thence we traversed a passage, and entered his parlour; the door being shut, he pointed46 me to as arm-chair by the hearth47; I sat down, and glanced round me.
It was a comfortable room, at once snug48 and handsome; the bright grate was filled with a genuine —— shire fire, red, clear, and generous, no penurious49 South-of-England embers heaped in the corner of a grate. On the table a shaded lamp diffused50 around a soft, pleasant, and equal light; the furniture was almost luxurious51 for a young bachelor, comprising a couch and two very easy chairs; bookshelves filled the recesses52 on each side of the mantelpiece; they were well-furnished, and arranged with perfect order. The neatness of the room suited my taste; I hate irregular and slovenly53 habits. From what I saw I concluded that Hunsden’s ideas on that point corresponded with my own. While he removed from the centre-table to the side-board a few pamphlets and periodicals, I ran my eye along the shelves of the book-case nearest me. French and German works predominated, the old French dramatists, sundry54 modern authors, Thiers, Villemain, Paul de Kock, George Sand, Eugene Sue; in German — Goethe, Schiller, Zschokke, Jean Paul Richter; in English there were works on Political Economy. I examined no further, for Mr. Hunsden himself recalled my attention.
“You shall have something,” said he, “for you ought to feel disposed for refreshment55 after walking nobody knows how far on such a Canadian night as this; but it shall not be brandy-and-water, and it shall not be a bottle of port, nor ditto of sherry. I keep no such poison. I have Rhein-wein for my own drinking, and you may choose between that and coffee.”
Here again Hunsden suited me: if there was one generally received practice I abhorred56 more than another, it was the habitual57 imbibing58 of spirits and strong wines. I had, however, no fancy for his acid German nectar, but I liked coffee, so I responded —
“Give me some coffee, Mr. Hunsden.”
I perceived my answer pleased him; he had doubtless expected to see a chilling effect produced by his steady announcement that he would give me neither wine nor spirits; he just shot one searching glance at my face to ascertain59 whether my cordiality was genuine or a mere60 feint of politeness. I smiled, because I quite understood him; and, while I honoured his conscientious61 firmness, I was amused at his mistrust; he seemed satisfied, rang the bell, and ordered coffee, which was presently brought; for himself, a bunch of grapes and half a pint62 of something sour sufficed. My coffee was excellent; I told him so, and expressed the shuddering63 pity with which his anchorite fare inspired me. He did not answer, and I scarcely think heard my remark. At that moment one of those momentary64 eclipses I before alluded65 to had come over his face, extinguishing his smile, and replacing, by an abstracted and alienated66 look, the customarily shrewd, bantering67 glance of his eye. I employed the interval68 of silence in a rapid scrutiny69 of his physiognomy. I had never observed him closely before; and, as my sight is very short, I had gathered only a vague, general idea of his appearance; I was surprised now, on examination, to perceive how small, and even feminine, were his lineaments; his tall figure, long and dark locks, his voice and general bearing, had impressed me with the notion of something powerful and massive; not at all:— my own features were cast in a harsher and squarer mould than his. I discerned that there would be contrasts between his inward and outward man; contentions70, too; for I suspected his soul had more of will and ambition than his body had of fibre and muscle. Perhaps, in these incompatibilities of the “physique” with the “morale,” lay the secret of that fitful gloom; he would but could not, and the athletic71 mind scowled72 scorn on its more fragile companion. As to his good looks, I should have liked to have a woman’s opinion on that subject; it seemed to me that his face might produce the same effect on a lady that a very piquant73 and interesting, though scarcely pretty, female face would on a man. I have mentioned his dark locks — they were brushed sideways above a white and sufficiently74 expansive forehead; his cheek had a rather hectic75 freshness; his features might have done well on canvas, but indifferently in marble: they were plastic; character had set a stamp upon each; expression re-cast them at her pleasure, and strange metamorphoses she wrought76, giving him now the mien77 of a morose78 bull, and anon that of an arch and mischievous79 girl; more frequently, the two semblances80 were blent, and a queer, composite countenance81 they made.
Starting from his silent fit, he began:—
“William! what a fool you are to live in those dismal82 lodgings of Mrs. King’s, when you might take rooms here in Grove Street, and have a garden like me!”
“I should be too far from the mill.”
“What of that? It would do you good to walk there and back two or three times a day; besides, are you such a fossil that you never wish to see a flower or a green leaf?”
“I am no fossil.”
What are you then? You sit at that desk in Crimsworth’s counting-house day by day and week by week, scraping with a pen on paper, just like an automaton83; you never get up; you never say you are tired; you never ask for a holiday; you never take change or relaxation84; you give way to no excess of an evening; you neither keep wild company, nor indulge in strong drink.”
“Do you, Mr. Hunsden?”
“Don’t think to pose me with short questions; your case and mine are diametrically different, and it is nonsense attempting to draw a parallel. I say, that when a man endures patiently what ought to be unendurable, he is a fossil.”
“Whence do you acquire the knowledge of my patience?”
“Why, man, do you suppose you are a mystery? The other night you seemed surprised at my knowing to what family you belonged; now you find subject for wonderment in my calling you patient. What do you think I do with my eyes and ears? I’ve been in your counting-house more than once when Crimsworth has treated you like a dog; called for a book, for instance, and when you gave him the wrong one, or what he chose to consider the wrong one, flung it back almost in your face; desired you to shut or open the door as if you had been his flunkey; to say nothing of your position at the party about a month ago, where you had neither place nor partner, but hovered85 about like a poor, shabby hanger-on; and how patient you were under each and all of these circumstances!”
“Well, Mr. Hunsden, what then?”
“I can hardly tell you what then; the conclusion to be drawn86 as to your character depends upon the nature of the motives87 which guide your conduct; if you are patient because you expect to make something eventually out of Crimsworth, notwithstanding his tyranny, or perhaps by means of it, you are what the world calls an interested and mercenary, but may be a very wise fellow; if you are patient because you think it a duty to meet insult with submission88, you are an essential sap, and in no shape the man for my money; if you are patient because your nature is phlegmatic89, flat, inexcitable, and that you cannot get up to the pitch of resistance, why, God made you to be crushed; and lie down by all means, and lie flat, and let Juggernaut ride well over you.”
Mr. Hunsden’s eloquence90 was not, it will be perceived, of the smooth and oily order. As he spoke, he pleased me ill. I seem to recognize in him one of those characters who, sensitive enough themselves, are selfishly relentless91 towards the sensitiveness of others. Moreover, though he was neither like Crimsworth nor Lord Tynedale, yet he was acrid92, and, I suspected, overbearing in his way: there was a tone of despotism in the urgency of the very reproaches by which, he aimed at goading93 the oppressed into rebellion against the oppressor. Looking at him still more fixedly94 than I had yet done, I saw written in his eye and mien a resolution to arrogate95 to himself a freedom so unlimited96 that it might often trench97 on the just liberty of his neighbours. I rapidly ran over these thoughts, and then I laughed a low and involuntary laugh, moved thereto by a slight inward revelation of the inconsistency of man. It was as I thought: Hunsden had expected me to take with calm his incorrect and offensive surmises98, his bitter and haughty99 taunts100; and himself was chafed101 by a laugh, scarce louder than a whisper.
His brow darkened, his thin nostril102 dilated103 a little.
“Yes,” he began, “I told you that you were an aristocrat104, and who but an aristocrat would laugh such a laugh as that, and look such a look? A laugh frigidly105 jeering106; a look lazily mutinous107; gentlemanlike irony108, patrician109 resentment110. What a nobleman you would have made, William Crimsworth! You are cut out for one; pity Fortune has baulked Nature! Look at the features, figure, even to the hands — distinction all over — ugly distinction! Now, if you’d only an estate and a mansion112, and a park, and a title, how you could play the exclusive, maintain the rights of your class, train your tenantry in habits of respect to the peerage, oppose at every step the advancing power of the people, support your rotten order, and be ready for its sake to wade113 knee-deep in churls’ blood; as it is, you’ve no power; you can do nothing; you’re wrecked114 and stranded115 on the shores of commerce; forced into collision with practical men, with whom you cannot cope, for you’ll never be a tradesman.”
The first part of Hunsden’s speech moved me not at all, or, if it did, it was only to wonder at the perversion116 into which prejudice had twisted his judgment117 of my character; the concluding sentence, however, not only moved, but shook me; the blow it gave was a severe one, because Truth wielded118 the weapon. If I smiled now, it, was only in disdain119 of myself.
Hunsden saw his advantage; he followed it up.
“You’ll make nothing by trade,” continued he; “nothing more than the crust of dry bread and the draught120 of fair water on which you now live; your only chance of getting a competency lies in marrying a rich widow, or running away with an heiress.”
“I leave such shifts to be put in practice by those who devise them,” said I, rising.
“And even that is hopeless,” he went on coolly. “What widow would have you? Much less, what heiress? You’re not bold and venturesome enough for the one, nor handsome and fascinating enough for the other. You think perhaps you look intelligent and polished; carry your intellect and refinement121 to market, and tell me in a private note what price is bid for them.”
Mr. Hunsden had taken his tone for the night; the string he struck was out of tune111, he would finger no other. Averse45 to discord122, of which I had enough every day and all day long, I concluded, at last, that silence and solitude123 were preferable to jarring converse124; I bade him good-night.
“What! Are you going, lad? Well, good-night: you’ll find the door.” And he sat still in front of the fire, while I left the room and the house. I had got a good way on my return to my lodgings before I found out that I was walking very fast, and breathing very hard, and that my nails were almost stuck into the palms of my clenched125 hands, and that my teeth were set fast; on making this discovery, I relaxed both my pace, fists, and jaws126, but I could not so soon cause the regrets rushing rapidly through my mind to slacken their tide. Why did I make myself a tradesman? Why did I enter Hunsden’s house this evening? Why, at dawn to-morrow, must I repair to Crimsworth’s mill? All that night did I ask myself these questions, and all that night fiercely demanded of my soul an answer. I got no sleep; my head burned, my feet froze; at last the factory bells rang, and I sprang from my bed with other slaves.
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1
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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justifying
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| 证明…有理( justify的现在分词 )； 为…辩护； 对…作出解释； 为…辩解（或辩护） | |
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rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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perseverance
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| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
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9
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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11
severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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12
antipathy
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| n.憎恶；反感，引起反感的人或事物 | |
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13
denser
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| adj. 不易看透的, 密集的, 浓厚的, 愚钝的 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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15
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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16
poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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18
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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19
mortifying
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| adj.抑制的，苦修的v.使受辱( mortify的现在分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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21
prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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22
malignity
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| n.极度的恶意，恶毒；（病的）恶性 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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grudged
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| 怀恨（grudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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pittance
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| n.微薄的薪水，少量 | |
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tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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39
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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42
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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43
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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44
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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45
averse
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| adj.厌恶的；反对的，不乐意的 | |
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46
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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47
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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48
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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49
penurious
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| adj.贫困的 | |
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50
diffused
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| 散布的，普及的，扩散的 | |
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51
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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52
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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53
slovenly
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| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
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54
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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55
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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56
abhorred
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| v.憎恶( abhor的过去式和过去分词 )；（厌恶地）回避；拒绝；淘汰 | |
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57
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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58
imbibing
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| v.吸收( imbibe的现在分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
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59
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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60
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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61
conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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62
pint
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| n.品脱 | |
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63
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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64
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
alienated
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| adj.感到孤独的，不合群的v.使疏远( alienate的过去式和过去分词 )；使不友好；转让；让渡（财产等） | |
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67
bantering
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| adj.嘲弄的v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的现在分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
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68
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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69
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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70
contentions
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| n.竞争( contention的名词复数 )；争夺；争论；论点 | |
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71
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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72
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
piquant
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| adj.辛辣的，开胃的，令人兴奋的 | |
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74
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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75
hectic
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| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
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76
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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77
mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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78
morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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79
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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80
semblances
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| n.外表，外观（semblance的复数形式） | |
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81
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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82
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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83
automaton
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| n.自动机器，机器人 | |
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84
relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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85
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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86
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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88
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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89
phlegmatic
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| adj.冷静的，冷淡的，冷漠的，无活力的 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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goading
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| v.刺激( goad的现在分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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94
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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arrogate
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| v.冒称具有...权利，霸占 | |
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unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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97
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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surmises
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的第三人称单数 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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99
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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100
taunts
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| 嘲弄的言语，嘲笑，奚落( taunt的名词复数 ) | |
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101
chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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102
nostril
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| n.鼻孔 | |
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103
dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
aristocrat
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| n.贵族，有贵族气派的人，上层人物 | |
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105
frigidly
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| adv.寒冷地；冷漠地；冷淡地；呆板地 | |
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106
jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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107
mutinous
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| adj.叛变的，反抗的；adv.反抗地，叛变地；n.反抗，叛变 | |
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108
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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109
patrician
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| adj.贵族的，显贵的；n.贵族；有教养的人；罗马帝国的地方官 | |
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110
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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111
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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112
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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113
wade
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| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
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114
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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115
stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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116
perversion
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| n.曲解；堕落；反常 | |
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117
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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118
wielded
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| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的过去式和过去分词 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
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119
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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120
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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121
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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122
discord
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| n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐 | |
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123
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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124
converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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125
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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126
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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