Towards the end of the week, however, Dicky grew remorseful14. "It's all very well," he said to me privately15, "for Mrs. Wick to say that she could spend a lifetime in Florence, if the houses only had a few modern conveniences. I daresay she could—and as for your poppa, he's as patient as if this were a Washington hotel and he had a caucus16 every night, but it's as plain as Dante's nose that the Senator's dead sick of this city."
"Dicky," I said, "that is a reflection of your own state of mind. Poppa is willing to take as much more Botticelli and Filippo Lippi as it may be necessary to give him."
"Oh, I know he would" Dicky admitted, "but he isn't as young as he was, and I should hate to feel I was imposing17 on him. Besides, I'm beginning to conclude that they've skipped Florence."
So it came to pass that we departed for Venice next day, tarrying one night at Bologna. We had cut a day off Bologna for Dicky's sake, but the Senator could not be persuaded to sacrifice it altogether on account of its well known manufacture, into the conditions of which he wished to inquire. The shops, as we drove to the hotel, seemed to expose nothing else for sale, but poppa said that, in spite of the local consumption, it had certainly fallen off, and, as an official representative of one of its great rivals in the west, he naturally felt a compunctious interest in the state of the industry. The hotel had a little courtyard, with an orange tree in the middle and palms in pots, and we came down the wide marble stairs, past the statues on the landing, and the paintings on the walls, to find dinner laid on round tables out there, I remember. A note of momma's occurs here to the effect that there is a great deal too much fine art in Italian hotels, with a reference to the fact that the one at Naples had the whole of Pompeii painted on the dining room walls. She considers this practice embarrassing to the public mind, which has no way of knowing whether to admire these things or not, though personally we boldly decided18 to scorn them all. This, however, has nothing to do with poppa and the commercial traveller. We knew he was a commercial traveller by the way he put his toothpick in his pocket, though poppa said afterwards that he was not exceptionally endowed for that line of business. He was dining at our table, and by his gratified manner when we sat down, it was plain that he could speak English and would be very pleased to do so. Poppa, knowing that his time was short, began at once.
"You belong to Bologna, sir?" he inquired with his first spoonful of soup. For some reason it seems impossible to address a stranger at a table d'h?te, before the soup takes the baldness off the situation.
The gentleman smiled. He had a broad, open, amiable19, red face, with a short black beard and a round head covered with thick hair in curls, beautifully parted. "I do not think I belong," he said; "my house of business, it is at Milan, and I am born at Finalmarina. But I come much to Bologna, yes."
"Where did you say you were born?" asked the Senator.
"Finalmarina. You did not go to there, no? I am sorry."
"It does seem a pity," replied poppa, "but we've been obliged to pass a considerable number of your commercial centres, sir. This city, I presume, has large manufacturing interests?"
"Oh, yes, I suppose. You 'ave seen that San Petronio, you cannot help. Very enorm'! More big than San Peter in Rome. But not complete since fourteenth century. In America you 'ave nothing unfinish, is it not?"
"Far as that goes," said poppa, "we generally manage to complete our contracts within the year; as a rule, I may say within the building season. But I have seen one or two Roman Catholic churches left with the scaffolding hanging round the ceiling for a good deal longer, the altar all fixed20 up too, and public worship going on just as usual. It seems to be a way they have. Well, sir, I knew Bologna, by reputation, better than any other Italian city, for years. Your local manufacture did the business. As a boy at school, there was nothing I was more fond of for my dinner. Thirty years ago, sir, the interest was created that brings me here to-day."
The commercial traveller bowed with much gratification. In the meantime he had presented a card to momma, which informed her that Ricardo Bellini represented the firm of Isapetti and Co., Milan, Artificial Flowers and Lace.
"Thirty years, that is a long time to remember Bologna, I cannot say that thirty years I remember New York. You will not believe!" He was obviously not more than twenty-five, so this was vastly humorous. "Twenty years, yes, twenty years I will say! And have you seen San Stefano? Seven churches in one! Also the most old. And having forty Jerusalem martyrs21."
"Forty would go a long way in relics," the Senator observed with discouragement, "but my remarks had reference to the Bologna sausage, sir."
"Sausage—ah! mortadella—yes they make here I believe." Mr. Bellini held up his knife and fork to enable his plate to be changed and looked darkly at the succeeding course. "But every Italian cannot like that dish. I eat him never. You will not find in this hotel no." His manner indicated a personal hostility22 to the Bologna sausage, but the Senator did not seem to notice it.
"You don't say so! Local consumption going off too, eh? Now how do you explain that?"
Mr. Bellini shrugged23 his shoulders. "It is much eat by the poor people. They will always have that mortadella!"
"That looks," said the Senator thoughtfully, "like the production of an inferior article. But not necessarily, not necessarily, of course."
"Bologna it is very ecclesiastic24." Mr. Bellini addressed my other parent, recovering a smile. "We have produced here six popes. It is the fame of Bologna."
"You seem to think a great deal of producing popes in Italy," momma replied coldly. "I should consider it a terrible responsibility."
"Now do you suppose," said poppa confidentially25, "that the idea of trichinosis had anything to do with slackening the demand?"
Mr. Bellini threw his head back, and passionately26 replaced a section of biscuit and cheese in the middle of his plate.
"I know nossing, any more than you! Why you speak me always that Bologna sausage! Pazienza! What is it that sausage to make the agreeable conversation!"
"Sir," exclaimed the Senator with astonishment27 and equal heat, "you don't seem to be aware of it, but at one time the Bologna sausage ruled the world!"
Mr. Bellini, however, could evidently not trust himself to discuss the matter further. He rose precipitately28 with an outraged29, impersonal30 bow, and left the table, abandoning his biscuit and cheese, his half finished bottle of Rudesheimer and the figs31 that were to follow, with the indifference32 of a lofty nature.
"I'm sorry I spoiled his dinner," said poppa with concern, "but if a Bologna man can't talk about Bologna sausages, what can he talk about?"
It made the Senator reticent33, though, as to sausages of any kind, with the other commercial traveller—the hotel was full of them, and we found it very entertaining after the barren dining rooms of southern Italy—with whom we breakfasted. He spoke34 to this one exclusively about the architectural and historic features of the city, in a manner which forbade any approach to gastronomic35 themes, and while the second commercial traveller regarded him with great respect, it must be confessed that the conversation languished36. Dicky might have helped us out, but Dicky was following his usual custom of having rooms in one hotel and covering as many others as possible with his meals, in the hope of an accidental meeting. This was excellent as a distraction for his mind, but since it occasionally led him into three déjeuners and two dinners, rather bad, we feared, for other parts of him. He had confided37 his design to me; he intended, on meeting Isabel's eye, to turn very pale, abruptly38 terminate his repast, ask for his hat and stick, and walk out with conspicuous39 agitation40. As to the course he meant to pursue afterwards he was vague; the great thing was to make an impression upon Isabel. We differed about the nature of the impression. Dicky took it for granted that she would be profoundly affected41, but he made no allowance for the way in which maternal42 vigilance like that of Mrs. Portheris can discourage the imagination.
Poppa made two further attempts to inform himself upon the leading manufacturing interest of Bologna. He inquired of the padrone, who was pleased to hear that Bologna had a leading manufacturing interest, and when my parent asked where he could see the process, pointed43 out several shops in the Piazza44 Maggiore. One of these the Senator visited, note-book in hand, and was shown with great alacrity45 every variety of mortadella, from delicacies46 the size of a finger to mottled conceptions as thick as a small barrel. He found a difficulty in explaining, however, even with an Italian phrase book, that it was the manufacture only about which he was curious, and that, admirable as the result might be, he did not wish to buy any of it. When the latter fact finally made itself plain, the proprietor47 became truculent48 and gave us, although he spoke no English, so vivid an idea of the inconsistency of our presence in his premises49, that we retired50 in all the irritation51 of the well-meaning and misunderstood. The Senator, however, who had absolute confidence in his phrase book, saw a deeper significance in the remarkable52 unwillingness53 of the people of Bologna to expatiate54 upon the feature which had given them fame. "The fact is," said he gloomily, restoring his note-book to his inside pocket as we entered the terra-cotta doorway55 of St. Catarina, "they're not anxious to let a stranger into the know of it." And this conviction remaining with him, still inspires the Senator with a contemptuous pity for the porcine methods of a people who refuse to submit them to the light of day and the observation of the world at large.
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1
conscientiously
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| adv.凭良心地；认真地，负责尽职地；老老实实 | |
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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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distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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cloisters
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| n.（学院、修道院、教堂等建筑的）走廊( cloister的名词复数 )；回廊；修道院的生活；隐居v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的第三人称单数 ) | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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7
cubicles
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| n.小卧室，斗室( cubicle的名词复数 ) | |
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charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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apathetic
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| adj.冷漠的，无动于衷的 | |
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11
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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12
consecrated
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| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
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13
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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14
remorseful
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| adj.悔恨的 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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caucus
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| n.秘密会议；干部会议；v.（参加）干部开会议 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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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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21
martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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22
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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23
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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ecclesiastic
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| n.教士，基督教会；adj.神职者的，牧师的，教会的 | |
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25
confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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precipitately
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| adv.猛进地 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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30
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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31
figs
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| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
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32
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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33
reticent
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| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
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34
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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35
gastronomic
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| adj.美食（烹饪）法的，烹任学的 | |
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36
languished
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| 长期受苦( languish的过去式和过去分词 )； 受折磨； 变得（越来越）衰弱； 因渴望而变得憔悴或闷闷不乐 | |
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37
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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38
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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39
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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40
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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41
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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42
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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43
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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44
piazza
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| n.广场；走廊 | |
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45
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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46
delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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47
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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48
truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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49
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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50
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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51
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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52
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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53
unwillingness
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| n. 不愿意，不情愿 | |
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54
expatiate
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| v.细说，详述 | |
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55
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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