During the next few weeks, accordingly, nothing of importance happened, from the point of view of the Brackenhurst chronicler; though Bertram was constantly round at the Monteiths' garden for afternoon tea or a game of lawn-tennis. He was an excellent player; lawn-tennis was most popular “at home,” he said, in that same mysterious and non-committing phrase he so often made use of. Only, he found the racquets and balls (very best London make) rather clumsy and awkward; he wished he had brought his own along with him when he came here. Philip noticed his style of service was particularly good, and even wondered at times he did not try to go in for the All England Championship. But Bertram surprised him by answering, with a quiet smile, that though it was an excellent amusement, he had too many other things to do with his time to make a serious pursuit of it.
One day towards the end of June, the strange young man had gone round to The Grange—that was the name of Frida's house—for his usual relaxation20 after a very tiring and distressing21 day in London, “on important business.” The business, whatever it was, had evidently harrowed his feelings not a little, for he was sensitively organised. Frida was on the tennis-lawn. She met him with much lamentation22 over the unpleasant fact that she had just lost a sister-in-law whom she had never cared for.
“Well, but if you never cared for her,” Bertram answered, looking hard into her lustrous23 eyes, “it doesn't much matter.”
“Oh, I shall have to go into mourning all the same,” Frida continued somewhat pettishly24, “and waste all my nice new summer dresses. It's SUCH a nuisance!”
“Why do it, then?” Bertram suggested, watching her face very narrowly.
“Well, I suppose because of what you would call a fetich,” Frida answered laughing. “I know it's ridiculous. But everybody expects it, and I'm not strong-minded enough to go against the current of what everybody expects of me.”
“You will be by-and-by,” Bertram answered, with confidence. “They're queer things, these death-taboos25. Sometimes people cover their heads with filth26 or ashes; and sometimes they bedizen them with crape and white streamers. In some countries, the survivors27 are bound to shed so many tears, to measure, in memory of the departed; and if they can't bring them up naturally in sufficient quantities, they have to be beaten with rods, or pricked28 with thorns, or stung with nettles29, till they've filled to the last drop the regulation bottle. In Swaziland, too, when the king dies, so the queen told me, every family of his subjects has to lose one of its sons or daughters, in order that they may all truly grieve at the loss of their sovereign. I think there are more horrible and cruel devices in the way of death-taboos and death-customs than anything else I've met in my researches. Indeed, most of our nomologists at home believe that all taboos originally arose out of ancestral ghost-worship, and sprang from the craven fear of dead kings or dead relatives. They think fetiches and gods and other imaginary supernatural beings were all in the last resort developed out of ghosts, hostile or friendly; and from what I see abroad, I incline to agree with them. But this mourning superstition30, now—surely it must do a great deal of harm in poor households in England. People who can very ill afford to throw away good dresses must have to give them up, and get new black ones, and that often at the very moment when they're just deprived of the aid of their only support and bread-winner. I wonder it doesn't occur to them that this is absolutely wrong, and that they oughtn't to prefer the meaningless fetich to their clear moral duty.”
“They're afraid of what people would say of them,” Frida ventured to interpose. “You see, we're all so frightened of breaking through an established custom.”
“Yes, I notice that always, wherever I go in England,” Bertram answered. “There's apparently31 no clear idea of what's right and wrong at all, in the ethical32 sense, as apart from what's usual. I was talking to a lady up in London to-day about a certain matter I may perhaps mention to you by-and-by when occasion serves, and she said she'd been 'always brought up to think' so-and-so. It seemed to me a very queer substitute indeed for thinking.”
“I never thought of that,” Frida answered slowly. “I've said the same thing a hundred times over myself before now; and I see how irrational33 it is. But, there, Mr. Ingledew, that's why I always like talking with you so much: you make one take such a totally new view of things.”
She looked down and was silent a minute. Her breast heaved and fell. She was a beautiful woman, very tall and queenly. Bertram looked at her and paused; then he went on hurriedly, just to break the awkward silence: “And this dance at Exeter, then—I suppose you won't go to it?”
“Oh, I CAN'T, of course,” Frida answered quickly. “And my two other nieces—Robert's side, you know—who have nothing at all to do with my brother Tom's wife, out there in India—they'll be SO disappointed. I was going to take them down to it. Nasty thing! How annoying of her! She might have chosen some other time to go and die, I'm sure, than just when she knew I wanted to go to Exeter!”
“Well, if it would be any convenience to you,” Bertram put in with a serious face, “I'm rather busy on Wednesday; but I could manage to take up a portmanteau to town with my dress things in the morning, meet the girls at Paddington, and run down by the evening express in time to go with them to the hotel you meant to stop at. They're those two pretty blondes I met here at tea last Sunday, aren't they?”
Frida looked at him, half-incredulous. He was very nice, she knew, and very quaint35 and fresh and unsophisticated and unconventional; but could he be really quite so ignorant of the common usages of civilised society as to suppose it possible he could run down alone with two young girls to stop by themselves, without even a chaperon, at an hotel at Exeter? She gazed at him curiously36. “Oh, Mr. Ingledew,” she said, “now you're really TOO ridiculous!”
Bertram coloured up like a boy. If she had been in any doubt before as to his sincerity37 and simplicity38, she could be so no longer. “Oh, I forgot about the taboo,” he said. “I'm so sorry I hurt you. I was only thinking what a pity those two nice girls should be cheated out of their expected pleasure by a silly question of pretended mourning, where even you yourself, who have got to wear it, don't assume that you feel the slightest tinge39 of sorrow. I remember now, of course, what a lady told me in London the other day: your young girls aren't even allowed to go out travelling alone without their mother or brothers, in order to taboo them absolutely beforehand for the possible husband who may some day marry them. It was a pitiful tale. I thought it all most painful and shocking.”
“But you don't mean to say,” Frida cried, equally shocked and astonished in her turn, “that you'd let young girls go out alone anywhere with unmarried men? Goodness gracious, how dreadful!”
“Why not?” Bertram asked, with transparent40 simplicity.
“Why, just consider the consequences!” Frida exclaimed, with a blush, after a moment's hesitation41.
“There couldn't be ANY consequences, unless they both liked and respected one another,” Bertram answered in the most matter-of-course voice in the world; “and if they do that, we think at home it's nobody's business to interfere42 in any way with the free expression of their individuality, in this the most sacred and personal matter of human intercourse43. It's the one point of private conduct about which we're all at home most sensitively anxious not to meddle44, to interfere, or even to criticise45. We think such affairs should be left entirely46 to the hearts and consciences of the two persons concerned, who must surely know best how they feel towards one another. But I remember having met lots of taboos among other barbarians47, in much the same way, to preserve the mere48 material purity of their women—a thing we at home wouldn't dream of even questioning. In New Ireland, for instance, I saw poor girls confined for four or five years in small wickerwork cages, where they're kept in the dark, and not even allowed to set foot on the ground on any pretext49. They're shut up in these prisons when they're about fourteen, and there they're kept, strictly50 tabooed, till they're just going to be married. I went to see them myself; it was a horrid51 sight. The poor creatures were confined in a dark, close hut, without air or ventilation, in that stifling52 climate, which is as unendurable from heat as this one is from cold and damp and fogginess; and there they sat in cages, coarsely woven from broad leaves of the pandanus trees, so that no light could enter; for the people believed that light would kill them. No man might see them, because it was close taboo; but at last, with great difficulty, I persuaded the chief and the old lady who guarded them to let them come out for a minute to look at me. A lot of beads53 and cloth overcame these people's scruples54; and with great reluctance55 they opened the cages. But only the old woman looked; the chief was afraid, and turned his head the other way, mumbling56 charms to his fetich. Out they stole, one by one, poor souls, ashamed and frightened, hiding their faces in their hands, thinking I was going to hurt them or eat them—just as your nieces would do if I proposed to-day to take them to Exeter—and a dreadful sight they were, cramped57 with long sitting in one close position, and their eyes all blinded by the glare of the sunlight after the long darkness. I've seen women shut up in pretty much the same way in other countries, but I never saw quite so bad a case as this of New Ireland.”
“Well, you can't say we've anything answering to that in England,” Frida put in, looking across at him with her frank, open countenance59.
“No, not quite like that, in detail, perhaps, but pretty much the same in general principle,” Bertram answered warmly. “Your girls here are not cooped up in actual cages, but they're confined in barrack-schools, as like prisons as possible; and they're repressed at every turn in every natural instinct of play or society. They mustn't go here or they mustn't go there; they mustn't talk to this one or to that one; they mustn't do this, or that, or the other; their whole life is bound round, I'm told, by a closely woven web of restrictions60 and restraints, which have no other object or end in view than the interests of a purely61 hypothetical husband. The Chinese cramp58 their women's feet to make them small and useless: you cramp your women's brains for the self-same purpose. Even light's excluded; for they mustn't read books that would make them think; they mustn't be allowed to suspect the bare possibility that the world may be otherwise than as their priests and nurses and grandmothers tell them, though most even of your own men know it well to be something quite different. Why, I met a girl at that dance I went to in London the other evening, who told me she wasn't allowed to read a book called Tess of the D'Urbervilles, that I'd read myself, and that seemed to me one of which every young girl and married woman in England ought to be given a copy. It was the one true book I had seen in your country. And another girl wasn't allowed to read another book, which I've since looked at, called Robert Elsmere,—an ephemeral thing enough in its way, I don't doubt, but proscribed62 in her case for no other reason on earth than because it expressed some mild disbelief as to the exact literary accuracy of those Lower Syrian pamphlets to which your priests attach such immense importance.”
“Oh, Mr. Ingledew,” Frida cried, trembling, yet profoundly interested; “if you talk like that any more, I shan't be able to listen to you.”
“There it is, you see,” Bertram continued, with a little wave of the hand. “You've been so blinded and bedimmed by being deprived of light when a girl, that now, when you see even a very faint ray, it dazzles you and frightens you. That mustn't be so—it needn't, I feel confident. I shall have to teach you how to bear the light. Your eyes, I know, are naturally strong; you were an eagle born: you'd soon get used to it.”
Frida lifted them slowly, those beautiful eyes, and met his own with genuine pleasure.
“Do you think so?” she asked, half whispering. In some dim, instinctive63 way she felt this strange man was a superior being, and that every small crumb64 of praise from him was well worth meriting.
“Why, Frida, of course I do,” he answered, without the least sense of impertinence. “Do you think if I didn't I'd have taken so much trouble to try and educate you?” For he had talked to her much in their walks on the hillside.
Frida did not correct him for his bold application of her Christian65 name, though she knew she ought to. She only looked up at him and answered gravely—
“I certainly can't let you take my nieces to Exeter.”
“I suppose not,” he replied, hardly catching at her meaning. “One of the girls at that dance the other night told me a great many queer facts about your taboos on these domestic subjects; so I know how stringent66 and how unreasoning they are. And, indeed, I found out a little bit for myself; for there was one nice girl there, to whom I took a very great fancy; and I was just going to kiss her as I said good-night, when she drew back suddenly, almost as if I'd struck her, though we'd been talking together quite confidentially67 a minute before. I could see she thought I really meant to insult her. Of course, I explained it was only what I'd have done to any nice girl at home under similar circumstances; but she didn't seem to believe me. And the oddest part of it all was, that all the time we were dancing I had my arm round her waist, as all the other men had theirs round their partners; and at home we consider it a much greater proof of confidence and affection to be allowed to place your arm round a lady's waist than merely to kiss her.”
Frida felt the conversation was beginning to travel beyond her ideas of propriety68, so she checked its excursions by answering gravely: “Oh, Mr. Ingledew, you don't understand our code of morals. But I'm sure you don't find your East End young ladies so fearfully particular?”
“They certainly haven't quite so many taboos,” Bertram answered quietly. “But that's always the way in tabooing societies. These things are naturally worst among the chiefs and great people. I remember when I was stopping among the Ot Danoms of Borneo, the daughters of chiefs and great sun-descended families were shut up at eight or ten years old, in a little cell or room, as a religious duty, and cut off from all intercourse with the outside world for many years together. The cell's dimly lit by a single small window, placed high in the wall, so that the unhappy girl never sees anybody or anything, but passes her life in almost total darkness. She mayn't leave the room on any pretext whatever, not even for the most pressing and necessary purposes. None of her family may see her face; but a single slave woman's appointed to accompany her and wait upon her. Long want of exercise stunts69 her bodily growth, and when at last she becomes a woman, and emerges from her prison, her complexion70 has grown wan34 and pale and waxlike. They take her out in solemn guise9 and show her the sun, the sky, the land, the water, the trees, the flowers, and tell her all their names, as if to a newborn creature. Then a great feast is made, a poor crouching71 slave is killed with a blow of the sword, and the girl is solemnly smeared72 with his reeking73 blood, by way of initiation74. But this is only done, of course, with the daughters of wealthy and powerful families. And I find it pretty much the same in England. In all these matters, your poorer classes are relatively75 pure and simple and natural. It's your richer and worse and more selfish classes among whom sex-taboos are strongest and most unnatural76.”
Frida looked up at him a little pleadingly.
“Do you know, Mr. Ingledew,” she said, in a trembling voice, “I'm sure you don't mean it for intentional77 rudeness, but it sounds to us very like it, when you speak of our taboos and compare us openly to these dreadful savages78. I'm a woman, I know; but—I don't like to hear you speak so about my England.”
The words took Bertram fairly by surprise. He was wholly unacquainted with that rank form of provincialism which we know as patriotism79. He leaned across towards her with a look of deep pain on his handsome face.
“Oh, Mrs. Monteith,” he cried earnestly, “if YOU don't like it, I'll never again speak of them as taboos in your presence. I didn't dream you could object. It seems so natural to us—well—to describe like customs by like names in every case. But if it gives you pain—why, sooner than do that, I'd never again say a single word while I live about an English custom!”
His face was very near hers, and he was a son of Adam, like all the rest of us—not a being of another sphere, as Frida was sometimes half tempted15 to consider him. What might next have happened he himself hardly knew, for he was an impulsive80 creature, and Frida's rich lips were full and crimson81, had not Philip's arrival with the two Miss Hardys to make up a set diverted for the moment the nascent82 possibility of a leading incident.
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1
taboo
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| n.禁忌，禁止接近，禁止使用；adj.禁忌的；v.禁忌，禁制，禁止 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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trespass
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| n./v.侵犯，闯入私人领地 | |
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prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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lodger
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| n.寄宿人，房客 | |
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guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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divulge
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| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
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ignominious
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| adj.可鄙的，不光彩的，耻辱的 | |
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13
radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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14
balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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15
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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17
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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trespasser
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| n.侵犯者；违反者 | |
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promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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lamentation
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| n.悲叹，哀悼 | |
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lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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pettishly
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taboos
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| 禁忌( taboo的名词复数 )； 忌讳； 戒律； 禁忌的事物（或行为） | |
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filth
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| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
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survivors
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| 幸存者，残存者，生还者( survivor的名词复数 ) | |
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pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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nettles
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| n.荨麻( nettle的名词复数 ) | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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ethical
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| adj.伦理的，道德的，合乎道德的 | |
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irrational
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| adj.无理性的，失去理性的 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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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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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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40
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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41
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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42
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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43
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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44
meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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45
criticise
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| v.批评，评论；非难 | |
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46
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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47
barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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48
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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49
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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50
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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51
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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52
stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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53
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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54
scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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55
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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56
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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59
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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restrictions
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| 约束( restriction的名词复数 )； 管制； 制约因素； 带限制性的条件（或规则） | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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proscribed
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| v.正式宣布（某事物）有危险或被禁止( proscribe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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crumb
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| n.饼屑，面包屑，小量 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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stringent
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| adj.严厉的；令人信服的；银根紧的 | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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stunts
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| n.惊人的表演( stunt的名词复数 )；（广告中）引人注目的花招；愚蠢行为；危险举动v.阻碍…发育[生长]，抑制，妨碍( stunt的第三人称单数 ) | |
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70
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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initiation
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| n.开始 | |
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relatively
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| adv.比较...地，相对地 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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intentional
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| adj.故意的，有意（识）的 | |
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78
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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81
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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nascent
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| adj.初生的，发生中的 | |
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