Of course it may be that I have known him too long, for even as a child I was accustomed to find him at my side, an unwelcome guest who came and went by no law that p. 100my youthful mind could determine. Certainly in those days he was more capricious, and the method of argument by repetition, which he still employs, was only too well calculated to weary and distress3 a child. But for the rest, the Harold whom I knew then was materially the Harold whom I know now. Conceive a small man so severely4 afflicted5 with St. Vitus’s dance that his features are hardly definable, endow him with a fondness for clothes of dull colours grievously decorated with spots, and a habit of asking meaningless questions over and over again in an utterly6 unemotional voice, and you will be able to form a not unfair estimate of the joys of Harold’s society. There have been exceptions, however, to the detestable colourlessness of Harold’s appearance. I have seen him on occasion dressed in flaming red, like Mephistopheles, and his shrill7 staccato voice has pierced my head like a corkscrew. But these manifestations8 have always been brief, and might even be considered enjoyable when compared with the unrestful monotony of Harold’s society in general.
p. 101Who taught me to call him by the name of Harold I do not know, but in my youthful days the man’s character was oddly associated with the idea of virtue9 as expounded10 in the books I read on Sunday afternoons. That I hated him was, I felt, merely a fitting attribute in one whose instincts were admittedly bad, but I did not allow the consideration to affect my rejoicings when I escaped from his company. Curiously11, too, I perceived that the Olympians were with me in this, and since the moral soundness of those improving books was beyond question, I had grave doubts as to their ultimate welfare. But it was always an easy task to detect the Olympians tripping in their own moralities; they had so many.
As time went on, and I grew out of the Sunday books and all that they stood for, I came to believe that I was growing out of Harold too. His appearances became rare, and, from his point of view, a little ineffective. It pleased me to consider with a schoolboy’s arrogance12 that he was little more than a child’s nightmare, and that if p. 102a man turned to fight him Harold would vanish. For a while Harold, in his cunning, played up to this idea. He would seek my side timidly, and fly at a word. The long, sleepless13 nights of childhood and the weary days were forgotten, and I made of him a jest. Sometimes I wondered whether he really existed.
And then he came. At first I was only mildly astonished when I found that nothing I could say would make him leave me, but as the hours passed the old hatred14 asserted itself, and to fight the little man with the dull voice and the cruel spots on his clothes seemed all that there was in life to do. The hours passed into days and nights, and sometimes I was passive in the hope that he might weary, sometimes I shouted answers to his questions—the same answer to the same question—over and over again. I felt, too, that if I could only see his features plainly for a moment he would disappear, and I would stare at him until the sky grew red as my eyes. But I could not see him clearly, and the world became a thing of dull colours, terrible with spots. p. 103By now I was fighting him with a sense of my own fatuity15, for I felt that nothing would make this man fight fairly. His voice had fallen to a passionless whisper and the spots on his clothes swelled16 into obscene blotches17 and burst like over-ripe fruit. It was then that the chloroform clutched me by the throat. I have never known anything on earth more sweet.
Since then, it seems to me, Harold has never been quite the same. He comes to see me now and again, and sometimes even he lingers by my side. But there is a note of doubt about him that I do not remember to have noticed before—some of his former spirit would seem to be lacking, and I am forced to wonder sometimes whether Harold is not ageing. And, though it may appear strange, the thought inspires me with a certain regret. I do not like the man, and I should be mad to seek him of my own accord, but in fairness I must acknowledge that in a negative way he has contributed to all the pleasures I have enjoyed. Sunsets and roses and the white light of the stars—I owe my appreciation18 of them all to Harold; p. 104and I know that it is by aid of his keen realism that I have founded the city of my dreams. It will be a grey world when Harold is no more.
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1
passionate
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adj.热情的,热烈的,激昂的,易动情的,易怒的,性情暴躁的 | |
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personalities
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n. 诽谤,(对某人容貌、性格等所进行的)人身攻击; 人身攻击;人格, 个性, 名人( personality的名词复数 ) | |
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3
distress
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n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
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severely
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adv.严格地;严厉地;非常恶劣地 | |
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afflicted
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使受痛苦,折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
utterly
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adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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shrill
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adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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manifestations
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n.表示,显示(manifestation的复数形式) | |
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virtue
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n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
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10
expounded
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论述,详细讲解( expound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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curiously
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adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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12
arrogance
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n.傲慢,自大 | |
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13
sleepless
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adj.不睡眠的,睡不著的,不休息的 | |
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14
hatred
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n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
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15
fatuity
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n.愚蠢,愚昧 | |
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16
swelled
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增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 ); 肿胀; (使)凸出; 充满(激情) | |
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17
blotches
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n.(皮肤上的)红斑,疹块( blotch的名词复数 );大滴 [大片](墨水或颜色的)污渍 | |
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appreciation
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n.评价;欣赏;感谢;领会,理解;价格上涨 | |
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