Such changes as had been wrought8 had come in a leisurely9 way, without attracting much attention. The mines, both of copper10 and of pyrites, had prospered11 beyond the experience of any other section of Munster, and this had brought into the immediate12 district a considerable alien population. But these intrusive13 strangers had fortunately preferred to settle in another hamlet in the neighborhood, and came rarely to Muirisc. The village was still without a hotel, and had by this time grown accustomed to the existence within its borders of a constabulary barracks. Its fishing went forward sedately14 and without much profit; the men of Muirisc only half believed the stories they heard of the modern appliances and wonderful hauls at Baltimore and Crook-haven—and cared even less than they credited. The lobster-canning factory had died a natural death years before, and the little children of Muirisc, playing about within sight of its roofless and rotting timbers, avoided closer contact with the building under some vague and formless notion that it was unlucky. The very idea that there had once been a man who thought that Muirisc desired to put up lobsters15 in tins seemed to them comic—and almost impious as well.
But there was one alteration16 upon which the people of Muirisc bestowed17 a good deal of thought—and on occasion and under their breath, not a few bitter words.
Cormac O’Daly, whom all the elders remembered as a mere18 “pote” and man of business for the O’Mahonys, had suddenly in his old age blossomed forth19 as The O’Daly, and as master of Muirisc. Like many other changes which afflict20 human recollection, this had all come about by reason of a woman’s vain folly21. Mrs. Fergus O’Mahony, having vainly cast alluring22 glances upon successive relays of mining contractors23 and superintendents24, and of fish-buyers from Bristol and the Isle25 of Man, and even, in the later stages, upon a sergeant26 of police—had at last actually thrown herself in marriage at the grizzled head of the hereditary27 bard28. It cannot be said that the announcement of this ill-assorted match had specially29 surprised the good people of Muirisc. They had always felt that Mrs. Fergus would ultimately triumph in her matrimonial resolutions, and the choice of O’Daly, though obviously enough a last resort, did not shock their placid30 minds. It was rather satisfactory than otherwise, when they came to think of it, that the arrangement should not involve the introduction of a stranger, perhaps even of an Englishman.
But now, after nearly three years of this marriage, with a young O’Daly already big enough to walk by himself among the pigs and geese in the square—they said to themselves that even an Englishman would have been better, and they bracketed the connubial31 tendencies of Mrs. Fergus and the upstart ambition of Cormac under a common ban of curses.
O’Daly had no sooner been installed in the castle than he had raised the rents. Back had come the odious32 charge for turf-cutting, the tax on the carrigeens and the tithe-levy upon the gathered kelp. In the best of times these impositions would have been sorely felt; the cruel failure of the potatoes in 1877 and ’78 had elevated them into the domain33 of the tragic34.
For the first time in its history Muirisc had witnessed evictions. Half way up the cliff stood the walls of four cottages, from which the thatched roofs had been torn by a sheriff’s posse of policeman during the bleakest35 month of winter. The gloomy spectacle, familiar enough elsewhere throughout Ireland, had still the fascination36 of novelty in the eyes of Muirisc. The villagers could not keep their gaze from those gaunt, deserted37 walls. Some of the evicted38 people—those who were too old or too young to get off to America and yet too hardy39 to die—still remained in the neighborhood, sleeping in the ditches and subsisting40 upon the poor charity of the cottagers roundabout. The sight of their skulking41, half-clad forms and hunger-pinched faces filled Muirisc with wrathful humiliation42.
Almost worst still were the airs which latterly O’Daly had come to assume. Even if the evictions and the rack-renting could have been forgiven, Muirisc felt that his calling himself The O’Daly was unpardonable. Everybody in Ivehagh knew that the O’Dalys had been mere bards43 and singers for the McCarthys, the O’Mahonys, and other Eugenian houses, and had not been above taking service, later on, under the hatred44 Carews. That any scion45 of the sept should exalt46 himself now, in the shoes of an O’Mahony, was simply intolerable.
In proportion as Cormac waxed in importance, his coadjutor Jerry had diminished. There was no longer any talk heard about Diarmid MacEgan; the very pigs in the street knew him now to be plain Jerry Higgins. Only the most shadowy pretense47 of authority to intermeddle in the affairs of the estate remained to him. Unlettered goodnature and loyalty48 had stood no chance whatever against the will and powers of the educated Cormac. Muirisc did indeed cherish a nebulous idea that some time or other the popular discontent would find him an effective champion, but Jerry did nothing whatever to encourage this hope. He had grown stout49 and red-faced through these unoccupied years, and lived by himself in a barely habitable nook among the ruins of the castle, overlooking the churchyard. Here he spent a great deal of his time, behind barred doors and denying himself to all visitors—and Muirisc had long since concluded that the companion of his solitude50 was a bottle.
“I’ve a word more to whisper into your ear, Higgins,” said O’Daly, this very evening, at the conclusion of some unimportant conversation about the mines.
The supper had been cleared away, and a tray of glasses flanking a decanter stood on the table at which the speaker sat with his pipe. The buxom51 and rubicund52 Mrs. Fergus—for so Muirisc still thought and spoke53 of her—dozed comfortably in her arm-chair at one side of the bank of blazing peat on the hearth54, an open novel turned down on her lap. Opposite her mother, Kate sat and sewed in silence, the while the men talked. It was the room in which The O’Mahony had eaten his first meal in Muirisc, twelve years before.
“‘A word to whishper,’” repeated O’Daly, glancing at Jerry with severity from under his beetling55 black brows, and speaking so loudly that even Mrs. Sullivan in the kitchen might have heard—“times is that hard, and work so scarce, that bechune now and midsummer I’d have ye look about for a new place.”
Jerry stared across the table at his co-trustee in blank amazement56. It was no surprise to him to be addressed in tones of harsh dislike by O’Daly, or to see his rightful claims to attention contemptuously ignored. But this sweeping57 suggestion took his breath away.
“What place do ye mane?” he asked confusedly. “Where else in Muirisc c’u’d I live so aisily?”
“’T is not needful ye should live in Muirisc at all,” said O’Daly, with cold-blooded calmness. “Sure, ’t is manny years since ye were of anny service here. A lad at two shillings the week would more than replace ye. In these bad times, and worse cornin’, ’t is impossible ye should stay on here as ye’ve been doin’ these twelve years. I thought I’d tell ye in sayson, Higgins—not to take ye unawares.”
“Glory-be-to-the-world?” gasped58 Jerry, sitting upright in his chair, and staring open-eyed.
“’T is a dale of other alterations59 I have in me mind,” O’Daly went on, hurriedly. “Sure, things have stuck in the mire60 far too long, waiting for the comin’ to life of a dead man. ’T is to stir ’em up I will now, an’ no delay. Me step-daughter, there, takes the vail in a few days, an’ ’t is me intintion thin to rebuild large parts of the convint, an’ mek new rules for it whereby gerrels of me own family can be free to enter it as well as the O’Mahonys. For, sure, ’t is now well known an’ universally consaded that the O’Daly’s were the most intellectual an’ intelligent family in all the two Munsters, be rayson of which all the ignorant an’ uncultivated ruffians like the MacCarthys an’ The O’Mahony’s used to be beseechin’ ’em to make verses and write books an’ divert ’em wid playin’ on the harp—an ’t is high time the O’Daly’s came into their own ag’in, the same that they’d never lost but for their wake good-nature in consintin’ to be bards on account of their supayrior education. Why, man,” the swart-visaged little lawyer went on, his black eyes snapping with excitement—“what d’ ye say to me great ancestor, Cuchonnacht O’Daly, called na Sgoile, or ‘of the school,’ who died at Clonard, rest his soul, Anno Domini 1139, the most celebrated61 pote of all Oireland? An’ do ye mind thim eight an’ twenty other O’Dalys in rigular descint who achaved distinction—”
“Egor! If they were all such thieves of the earth as you are, the world’s d———d well rid of ’em!” burst in Jerry Higgins.
He had sprung to his feet, and stood now hotfaced and with clenched62 fists, glaring down upon O’Daly.
The latter pushed back his chair and instinctively63 raised an elbow to guard his head.
“Have a care, Higgins!” he shouted out—“you’re in the presence of witnesses—I’m a p’aceable man—in me own domicile, too!”
“I’ll ‘dommycille’ ye, ye blagyard!” Jerry snorted, throwing his burly form half over the table.
“Ah, thin, Jerry! Jerry!” A clear, bell-toned voice rang in his confused ears, and he felt the grasp of a vigorous hand upon his arm. “Is it mad ye are, Jerry, to think of striking the likes of him?”
Kate stood at his side. The mere touch of her hand on his sleeve would have sufficed for restraint, but she gripped his arm sharply, and turned upon him a gaze of stern reproval.
“’Tis elsewhere ye left your manners, Jerry!” she said, in a calm enough voice, though her bosom64 was heaving. “When our bards became insolent65 or turned rogues66, they were sent outside to be beaten. ’T was niver done in the presence of ladies.”
Jerry’s puzzled look showed how utterly67 he failed to grasp her meaning. There was no such perplexity in O’Daly’s mind. He, too, had risen, and stood on the hearth beside his wife, who blinked vacuous68 inquiries69 sleepily at the various members of the group in turn.
“And we,” he said, with nervous asperity70, “when our children become impertinent, we trounce them off to their bed.”
“Ah-h! No child of yours, O’Daly!” the girl made scornful answer, in measured tones.
“Well, thin,” the little man snarled71, vehemently72, “while ye’re under my roof, Miss O’Mahony, ye’ll heed73 what I say, an’ be ruled by ’t. An’ now ye force me to ’t, mark this: I’ll have no more of your gaddin’ about with that old bag-o’-bones of a Murphy. ’T is not dacint or fittin’ for a young lady—more especially when she’s to be a—wanderin’ the Lord knows where, or—”
Kate broke in upon his harangue74 with shrill75 laughter, half hysterical76.
“Is it an O’Daly that I hear discoorsin’ on dacency to an O’Mahony!” she called out, ironically incredulous. “Well, thin—while that I’m under your roof—-”
“Egor! Who made it his roof?” demanded Jerry. “Shure, be the papers The O’Mahony wrote out wid his own hand for us—”
“Don’t be interruptin’, Jerry!” said Kate, again with a restraining hand on his arm. “I say this, O’Daly: The time I stop under this roof will be just that while that it takes me to put on me hat. Not an instant longer will I stay.”
She walked proudly erect77 to the chest in the corner, took up her hat and put it on her head.
“Come now, Jerry,” she said, “I’ll walk wid you to me cousins, the Ladies of the Hostage’s Tears. ’T will be grand news to thim that the O’Dalys have come into their own ag’in!”
Cormac O’Daly instinctively moved toward the door to bar her egress78. Then a glance at Jerry’s heavy fists and angered face bred intuition of a different kind, and he stepped back again.
“Mind, once for all! I’ll not have ye here ag’in—neither one or other of ye!” he shouted.
Kate disdained79 response by even so much as a look. She moved over to the arm-chair, and, stooping for an instant, lightly brushed with her lips the flattened80 crimps which adorned81 the maternal82 forehead. Then, with head high in air and a tread of exaggerated stateliness, she led the way for Jerry out of the room and the house.
Mrs. Fergus heard the front door close with a resounding83 clang, and the noise definitely awakened84 her. She put up a correcting hand, and passed it over her front hair. Then she yawned meditatively85 at the fire, and, lifting the steaming kettle from the crane, filled one of the glasses on the tray with hot water. Then she permitted herself a drowsy86 halfsmile at the disordered appearance presented by her infuriated spouse87.
“Well, thin, ’tis not in Mother Agnes O’Mahony’s shoes I’m wishin’ myself!” she said, upon reflection. “It’s right ye are to build thick new walls to the convint. They’ll be needed, wid that girl inside!”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
bustling
|
|
| adj.喧闹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
preoccupied
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
lapse
|
|
| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
scantest
|
|
| scant（不足的）的最高级形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
5
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
aged
|
|
| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
nuns
|
|
| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
wrought
|
|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
leisurely
|
|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
copper
|
|
| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
prospered
|
|
| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
intrusive
|
|
| adj.打搅的；侵扰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
sedately
|
|
| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
lobsters
|
|
| 龙虾( lobster的名词复数 )； 龙虾肉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
alteration
|
|
| n.变更，改变；蚀变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
bestowed
|
|
| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
afflict
|
|
| vt.使身体或精神受痛苦，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
alluring
|
|
| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
contractors
|
|
| n.（建筑、监造中的）承包人( contractor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
superintendents
|
|
| 警长( superintendent的名词复数 )； （大楼的）管理人； 监管人； （美国）警察局长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
isle
|
|
| n.小岛，岛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
sergeant
|
|
| n.警官，中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
hereditary
|
|
| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
bard
|
|
| n.吟游诗人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
specially
|
|
| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
placid
|
|
| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
connubial
|
|
| adj.婚姻的，夫妇的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
odious
|
|
| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
domain
|
|
| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
bleakest
|
|
| 阴冷的( bleak的最高级 )； （状况）无望的； 没有希望的； 光秃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
fascination
|
|
| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
evicted
|
|
| v.（依法从房屋里或土地上）驱逐，赶出( evict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
hardy
|
|
| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
subsisting
|
|
| v.（靠很少的钱或食物）维持生活，生存下去( subsist的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
skulking
|
|
| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
humiliation
|
|
| n.羞辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
bards
|
|
| n.诗人( bard的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
scion
|
|
| n.嫩芽，子孙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
exalt
|
|
| v.赞扬，歌颂，晋升，提升 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
pretense
|
|
| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
loyalty
|
|
| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
buxom
|
|
| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
rubicund
|
|
| adj.(脸色)红润的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
hearth
|
|
| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
beetling
|
|
| adj.突出的，悬垂的v.快速移动( beetle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
gasped
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
alterations
|
|
| n.改动( alteration的名词复数 )；更改；变化；改变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
mire
|
|
| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
clenched
|
|
| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
insolent
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
rogues
|
|
| n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 )；无赖；调皮捣蛋的人；离群的野兽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
vacuous
|
|
| adj.空的，漫散的，无聊的，愚蠢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
inquiries
|
|
| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
asperity
|
|
| n.粗鲁，艰苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
snarled
|
|
| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
vehemently
|
|
| adv. 热烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
heed
|
|
| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
harangue
|
|
| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
hysterical
|
|
| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
egress
|
|
| n.出去；出口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
disdained
|
|
| 鄙视( disdain的过去式和过去分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
flattened
|
|
| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
adorned
|
|
| [计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
maternal
|
|
| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
resounding
|
|
| adj. 响亮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
meditatively
|
|
| adv.冥想地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
drowsy
|
|
| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
spouse
|
|
| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |