“Are there many hotels there?” Franz Lindner asked dubiously11, much crestfallen12 at his own comparative failure with the public of Innsbruck. A little of his jauntiness13 had been washed for the moment out of Franz Lindner’s figure; he looked limper in the back and not so stiff in the neck?—?nay14, even his hat stood cocked on his head at a less aggressive angle.
“There isn’t anything else,” Andreas Hausberger answered in his Western style. “Meran and Obermais are one enormous gasthaus. If Linnet does as well as she has done at Innsbruck, it’ll take us take three weeks or a month, at least, to get right through with them. We took a good bit, considering all things, the other evening. I think she draws; I noticed old gentlemen slipped their florins under their palms into the plate unobtrusively. Besides, in a Kurort, she’ll soon get talked about. People at one hotel or pension will speak of us at another?—?‘Seen this Tyrolese troupe15 going about in the place? Pretty girl; sings sweetly.’ I take it there can’t be less than thirty houses in Meran where we could get an audience. That carries us well on to the end of November. By that time, San Remo and Bordighera’ll be filling up fast, and from there we can go on to Cannes, Nice, Mentone.”
So three days later saw them safe at Meran. To Linnet, that journey from north to south, across the great ridge16 of the Alps, seemed like transplantation into an earthly fairyland. She had never seen the luscious17 wealth of vineclad lands before; for North and South Tyrol are two different countries, one cold, bleak18, Germanic, the other soft, warm, Italian. Meran itself appeared to her ardent19 imagination more beautiful than anything eye hath seen or mind conceived of. And, indeed, it is beautiful. Whoever knows it loves it. A brawling20 little mountain stream, the Passer, rushes headlong from the glaciers21 of the Otzthaler Alps through a wild upland glen, to join in due time the broader stream of the Adige, which threads the bleak Vintschgau on its precipitous course from the lofty snow-fields of the Ortler and the Wild-Spitze. Near the point where the two unite, on a long tongue of land, the little town of Meran nestles close among its vines, under shelter of the rounded ice-worn Küchelberg. It clings with its ancient walls, its steeples, its watch-towers, as if glued to the lower slopes of the basking23 mountain. Linnet gazed at it, delighted. For here, on the south side of the Alps, looking down the broad valley to sunny Italy, the vegetation differed greatly, both in richness and in character, from anything she had ever seen in her native Zillerthal. Indeed, even Italy itself, parched24 as it often is with excessive heat, seldom shows such wild luxuriance of foliage25 and fruit as these green and well-watered South Tyrolese valleys. There is a bowery, flowery lavishness27 and lushness about it all that defies description. The vines that trail loose across their trellised archways; the gourds28 that hang pendent from their wooden frails; the great yellow pumpkins29 that lean temptingly over every terraced wall; the lizards30 that bask22 blinking on the sun-smitten rock-face; the crimson31 sprays of Virginia creeper that droop32 in festoons from the brown verandah wood-work of coquettish chalets, mingled33 with the pine-clad slopes and bare snow-sprinkled peaks of the upper background, make a charming hybrid34 between Switzerland and Lombardy. Imagine for yourself an ancient German town, with mouldering35 walls and high turrets36, like Boppard or Andernach, and crenellated castles of quaint2 medi?val architecture, but with arcaded37 streets and Italian loggias, plumped down incongruously in the midst of this half-Alpine, half-southern scenery, and you get a very fair bird’s-eye view indeed, in its way, of the main traits of Meran.
On the very first morning of her arrival in the town, Linnet took her way out with Franz Lindner and Philippina along the brawling stream that forms the centre and rallying point of the gay little watering-place. Meran is all parade, winter-garden, and band, and they walked through its midst to see and be seen of the lounging Herrschaft. They were dressed in full costume; ’twas a form of advertisement Andreas greatly believed in. Franz held himself erect38, with his feather still stuck Robbler-wise, and his defiant39 air, as he strode through the crowd that lined the promenade9?—?the gayest, most varied40, and most fashionable throng41 Linnet had ever set eyes on. He and Philippina stared hard at the world that displayed itself before them. German Jews from Frankfort, great Viennese bankers, the round-faced, engaging Bavarian fr?uleins, the tall and tailor-made English lawn-tennis misses. Linnet gazed at them, too, but cast her eyes now and then from the people and the shops to the great cleft42 mountain peaks that soared everywhere high and clear-cut into the sky above them.
In the lower part of their walk the river was smooth, and the roadway was bordered by fantastic pensions and quaint Tyrolese buildings; but in the upper part, which they reached beyond a single bold arch of stone-work that spanned the Passer, precipitous rocks began to hem4 it in, the river assumed the guise43 of a foaming45 torrent46, and the ruined fortress47 of the Zenoburg, with its Romanesque portal, frowned down from high above them on a water-worn gorge48 where the stream forced its way in a dashing cataract49. A little platform overhangs the very edge of the cascade50. Linnet stood there long, leaning over the iron rail, and gazing with delight at the white foam44 beneath, and the placid51 deep green of the calm rock-basin that received the mountain stream as it leapt from the precipice52.
Franz and Philippina wouldn’t let her remain there, however. With the restlessness of their kind, they were eager to explore this new world more fully53. They strolled through the town, and up the hills behind, where all seemed fresh and southern and romantic to Linnet. Through green alleys26 of vines, trained like bowers54 over their heads, they mounted at last by a cloven ravine to the chestnut-covered slopes, where they looked down like a map on the vast garden of the Etschthal. It was a wonderful view. Linnet drank it in eagerly. In front crouched55 the town with its huddling56 red roofs wedged in between the hill and the scurrying57 river; beyond lay a wide plain of such luxuriant tilth as Linnet till then had never dreamt of. Villages and churches clustered thick by the dozen on slope and hill-top; but what added the last touch of charm to the strange scene in Linnet’s eyes was the extraordinary number and variety of its feudal58 chateaux. Every height was crowned by its castellated Schloss, ivy-clad Planta, huge sun-smitten Labers, the terraced front of Rametz, the frowning bastions of Fragsburg: Franz Lindner, with his keen eyes, could count no less than forty-three of them. The exhilaration of the fresh scene, and of the southern trees and creepers, so different from the stunted59 pines of their own chilly60 Zillerthal, filled Linnet with a certain vague and indefinable delight: had but her Engl?nder been there, she would have been perfectly61 happy.
Andreas Hausberger had taken charge of the health of his troupe, in strict accordance with his own favourite theories. The two girls were to walk on the hills for three hours every morning. They were to dine thus and thus. They were to do or avoid this, that, or the other thing. He himself had gone off meanwhile to one of the smaller hotels to make arrangements beforehand for that evening’s concert. One of the smaller hotels, bien entendu, for Andreas knew well the money value of mere62 gossip as a means of advertisement. Not till he had seen what impression Linnet made on the public of the lesser63 houses would he launch her on the Meranhof or the Erzherzog Johann. That ensured him the full benefit of the talk of the town. A shrewd man, Andreas Hausberger! By the time he reached those larger and richer houses in his nightly rounds, he didn’t doubt the world of Meran would have heard and tattled much of his new-found singer; people would say to one another, “Don’t miss the Tyrolese troupe that’s coming to us to-night; they say there’s one girl in it worth seeing and hearing.” For Andreas was above all things a man of the world; he never threw away the chance of earning an extra gulden.
That evening, in due course, their concert came off at the Austria at Obermais. You know the Austria??—?a small but select and aristocratic pension, much affected64 by the Von So-and-so’s of Berlin and Vienna. The result (in net cash) surpassed the prudent65 Andreas’s highest expectations. Though no Will Deverill was there to inspire her efforts, Linnet sang divinely. Indeed, to say the truth, though she had met him and lost him once more at Innsbruck, that meeting and losing, instead of dashing her hopes to the ground, as Rue and Florian expected, had only produced on her simple little mind a general impression that now, by the blessed Madonna’s aid, her Engl?nder might turn up any day, anywhere. In that innocent hope, born of the age of faith, she sang her best with a will, and charmed her audience, looking hard at the door all the while, to see if, peradventure, her Engl?nder would enter. And when no Engl?nder came, she comforted her soul with the thought that Andreas had said there were twenty-nine other hotels in Meran and Obermais?—?at any one of which, no doubt, that dear friend might be stopping. Her heart wasn’t crushed?—?not the least bit of it?—?and her trust in the blessed Madonna on the Britannia metal pendant that hung round her neck was as vivid and as childishly unquestioning as ever. Our Dear Frau had brought her her lover at Innsbruck; Our Dear Frau could bring him her just as well at Meran here.
She sang three times. Each time the audience applauded vociferously66. The Austria, you see, is mainly frequented by Germans. Now, your German is musical; he has little reserve; he loves a good noise; and he’s never afraid of displaying his feelings. Moreover, the little party in the salon67 that night was largely composed of Viennese or Bavarians; they understood the zither and the Tyrolese songs; they were to the manner born, good judges of execution. Franz Lindner’s feather curled once more, quite as perkily as ever, when they applauded the bravado68 of his facile playing. Philippina smiled and bobbed, a wicked twinkle in her eye, when they cried “Bis!” to the loudest and sauciest69 of her jodels. But at each of Linnet’s songs, her hearers grew silent, then burst as she ceased into uproarious approbation70. She was the heroine of the night, the black swan of the party; not often had they heard such a voice as hers at so humble71 a performance.
When all was finished, ’twas Linnet’s task to hand round the plate and make the little collection. She hated the work, but ’tis always imposed, and with sound commercial reason, on the prettiest girl of the troupe, so it naturally devolved upon Linnet to perform it. Even good-humoured Philippina admitted without dispute her claim to the function. Hot in the face, and ill at ease, Linnet walked round the room in a maze72 of confusion, with her little silver salver. She offered it first to the rich Jew banker from Frankfort-on-the Main, with the diamond pin, and the seals on his watch-chain. Now, your pretty face is a mighty73 opener of your purse-strings. The rich Jew banker, holding out one fat thumb and forefinger74 gingerly, after a second’s hesitation75 (for ’tis hard to part with so much money at once) dropped a ten-florin piece in good Austrian gold, plump into the middle of the silver salver. It fell with a ring. His example was contagious76. Christian77 Freiherrs could not stand being beaten in their appreciation78 of vocal79 art by Jewish financiers from Frankfort. People who meant to give one florin now gave two; people who meant to put off on their wives the duty of dispensing80 the family bounty81 now drew out their purses and became their own almoners. Linnet had never seen a gold piece in her life before; when she finished her round, bowing low, that night, there were three of them on the salver.
Andreas Hausberger eyed the plate with a carefully-suppressed smile of subdued82 satisfaction. His mouth never moved; only the corners of his eyes betrayed his emotion. But that evening’s haul had far-reaching consequences?—?for him and for Linnet. He saw in a moment he had found indeed, as he thought, a treasure. He didn’t need the assurances of the rich Jew banker, and the lady amateur with the tortoise-shell eyeglasses who came from Berlin, that Linnet should be placed at once for instruction in a proper conservatorium. He saw for himself, from the effect she produced on the audience that night, she would yet do wonders. As Linnet left the Austria, Andreas held her cloak for her. But it wasn’t mere gallantry. “Wrap your throat round well, Linnet,” he said, with much zealous83 care. “For Heaven’s sake don’t take cold. The air on the hills in the daytime won’t hurt you; but after sitting in these crowded, over-heated rooms, the night fogs are so bad for you.”
The goose that lays the golden eggs deserves to be well tended.
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收听单词发音
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1
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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5
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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6
plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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7
disport
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| v.嬉戏，玩 | |
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8
promenades
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| n.人行道( promenade的名词复数 )；散步场所；闲逛v.兜风( promenade的第三人称单数 ) | |
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9
promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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10
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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13
jauntiness
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| n.心满意足；洋洋得意；高兴；活泼 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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troupe
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| n.剧团，戏班；杂技团；马戏团 | |
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16
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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17
luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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18
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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20
brawling
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| n.争吵，喧嚷 | |
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21
glaciers
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| 冰河，冰川( glacier的名词复数 ) | |
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22
bask
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| vt.取暖，晒太阳，沐浴于 | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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24
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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26
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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lavishness
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| n.浪费，过度 | |
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28
gourds
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| n.葫芦( gourd的名词复数 ) | |
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29
pumpkins
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| n.南瓜( pumpkin的名词复数 )；南瓜的果肉，南瓜囊 | |
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lizards
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| n.蜥蜴( lizard的名词复数 ) | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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32
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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33
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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hybrid
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| n.(动，植）杂种，混合物 | |
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mouldering
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| v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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36
turrets
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| （六角）转台( turret的名词复数 )； （战舰和坦克等上的）转动炮塔； （摄影机等上的）镜头转台； （旧时攻城用的）塔车 | |
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arcaded
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| adj.成为拱廊街道的，有列拱的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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40
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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41
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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42
cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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43
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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44
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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45
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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46
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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47
fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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48
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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49
cataract
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| n.大瀑布，奔流，洪水，白内障 | |
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50
cascade
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| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
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51
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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52
precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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53
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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54
bowers
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| n.（女子的）卧室( bower的名词复数 )；船首锚；阴凉处；鞠躬的人 | |
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55
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
huddling
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| n. 杂乱一团, 混乱, 拥挤 v. 推挤, 乱堆, 草率了事 | |
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57
scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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58
feudal
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| adj.封建的，封地的，领地的 | |
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59
stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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60
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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61
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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62
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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63
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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65
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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66
vociferously
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| adv.喊叫地，吵闹地 | |
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67
salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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bravado
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| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
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69
sauciest
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| adj.粗鲁的( saucy的最高级 )；粗俗的；不雅的；开色情玩笑的 | |
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70
approbation
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| n.称赞；认可 | |
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71
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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72
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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73
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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74
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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75
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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76
contagious
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| adj.传染性的，有感染力的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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78
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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79
vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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80
dispensing
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| v.分配( dispense的现在分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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81
bounty
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| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
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82
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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83
zealous
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| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
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