"Who are you?" I asked in English.
They simply smiled and waved their hands. I repeated my question in Italian.
"We serve," the man replied.
"Serve whom?"
"Whoever is the master."
"Have you been here long?"
"We have always been here. It is our home."
His statement amused me, and I commented, "The masters come and go, but you remain?"
"It seems so."
"Many masters?"
"Alas1! yes. They come and go. Nice young men, like you, but they do not stay. They buy and look at the view, and eat with us a few days and then they are gone."
"And then the villa2 is sold again?"
The man shrugged3. "How should we know? We simply serve."
"Then prepare me my dinner. And serve it outside, under the grapevine, where I can see the view."
The woman started to obey. The man came nearer.
"Shall I carry your bags to the bedroom?"
"Yes. And I will go with you and unpack4."
He took me to a room on the second floor. There was a bed there and a very old chest of drawers. The floor, everything about the room was spotlessly clean. The walls had been freshly whitewashed5. Their smooth whiteness suggested wonderful possibilities for despoliation6, the drawing of a picture, the writing of a poem, the careless writhing7 autograph that caused my relatives so much despair.
"Have all the masters slept here?" I asked carelessly.
"All."
"Was there one by the name of George Seabrook?"
"I think so. But they come and go. I am old and forget."
"And all these masters, none of them ever wrote on the walls?"
"Of a certainty. All wrote with pencil what they desired to write. Who should say they should not? For did not the villa belong to them while they were here? But always we prepared for the new master, and made the walls clean and beautiful again."
"You were always sure that there would be a new master?"
"Certainly. Someone must pay us our wages."
I gravely placed a gold piece in his itching8 palm, asking, "What did they write on the walls?"
He looked at me with old, unblinking eyes. Owl9 eyes! That is what they were, and he slowly said,
"Each wrote or drew as his fancy led him, for they were the masters and could do as they wished."
"But what were the words?"
"I cannot speak English, or read it."
Evidently, the man was not going to talk. To me the entire situation was most interesting. Same servants, same villa, many masters. They came and bought and wrote on the wall and left, and then my real-estate friend sold the house again. A fine racket!
Downstairs, outdoors, under the grapevine, eating a good Italian meal, looking at the wonderful view, I came to laugh at my suspicions. I ate spaghetti, olives, dark bread and wine. Silence hung heavily over the sullen10 sleepy afternoon. The sky became copper-colored. It was about to rain. The old man came and showed me a place to put my car, a recess11 in the wall of the house, open at one end, but sheltered from the weather. The stone floor was black with grease; more than one automobile12 had been kept there.
"Other cars have been here," I ventured.
"All the masters had cars," the old man replied.
点击收听单词发音
1 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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2 villa | |
n.别墅,城郊小屋 | |
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3 shrugged | |
vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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4 unpack | |
vt.打开包裹(或行李),卸货 | |
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5 whitewashed | |
粉饰,美化,掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6 despoliation | |
n.掠夺 | |
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7 writhing | |
(因极度痛苦而)扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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8 itching | |
adj.贪得的,痒的,渴望的v.发痒( itch的现在分词 ) | |
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9 owl | |
n.猫头鹰,枭 | |
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10 sullen | |
adj.愠怒的,闷闷不乐的,(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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11 recess | |
n.短期休息,壁凹(墙上装架子,柜子等凹处) | |
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12 automobile | |
n.汽车,机动车 | |
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