Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Doing or suffering.—Paradise Lost.
Morton recovered slowly. The influences about him were any thing but favorable to a quick convalescence3, and it was months before he was himself again. Even then, though his health seemed confirmed, a deeper cloud remained upon his spirits: his dungeon4 seemed more dark and gloomy, his prospects5 more desperate.
One day he paced his cell in a mood of more than usual depression.
"Fools and knaves6 are at large; robbery and murder have full scope; vanity and profligacy7 run their free career; then why is honest effort paralyzed, and buried here alive? There are those in these vaults,—men innocent of crime as I,—men who would have been an honor to their race,—who have passed a score of years in this living death. And canting fools would console them with saying that 'all is for the best.' I will sooner believe that the world is governed by devils, and that the prince of them all is bodied in Metternich. Why is there not in crushed hope, and stifled8 wrath9, and swelling10 anguish11, and frenzy12, and despair, a force to burst these hellish sepulchres, and blow them to the moon!
"It is but a weak punishment to which Milton dooms14 his ruined angel. Action,—enterprise,—achievement,—a hell like that is heaven to the cells of Ehrenberg. He should have chained him to a rock, and left him alone to the torture of his own thoughts; the unutterable agonies of a mind preying15 on itself for want of other sustenance16. Action!—mured in this dungeon, the starved soul gasps17 for it as the lungs for air. 'Action, action, action!—all in all! What is life without it? A marsh18, a quagmire19, a rotten, stagnant20 pool. It is its own reward. The chase is all; the prize nothing. The huntsmen chase the fox all day, and, when they have caught her, fling her to their hounds for a worthless vermin. Alexander wept that he had no more worlds to conquer. What did it profit him that a conquered world lay already at his feet? The errant knights21 who roamed the world with their mistress's glove on their helmet, achieving impossibilities in her name,—which of them could have endured to live in peace with her for a six-month? The crusader master of Jerusalem, Cortes with Mexico subdued22, any hero when his work is done, falls back to the ranks of common men. His lamp is out, his fire quenched23; and what avails the stale, lack-lustre remnant of his days?
"Action! the panacea24 of human ills; the sure resource of misery25; the refuge of bad consciences; a maelstroom, in whose giddy vortex saints and villains26 may whirl alike. How like a madman some great criminal, some Macbeth, will plunge27 on through his slough28 of blood and treachery, frantic29 to dam out justice at every chink, and bulwark30 himself against fate; clinching31 crime with crime; giving conscience no time to stab; finding no rest; but still plunging32 on, desperate and blind! How like a madman some pious33 anchorite, fervent34 to win heaven, will pile torture on torture, fast, and vigil, and scourge35, made wretched daily with some fresh scruple37, delving38 to find some new depth of self-abasement, and still struggling on unsatisfied, insatiable of penance39, till the grave devours40 him! Human activity!—to pursue a security which is never reached, a contentment which eludes41 the grasp, some golden consummation which proves but hollow mockery; to seize the prize, to taste it, to fling it away, and reach after another! This cell, where I thought myself buried and sealed up from knowledge, is, after all, a school of philosophy. It teaches a dreary42 wisdom of its own. Through these stone walls I can see the follies43 of the world more clearly than when I was in the midst of them. A dreary wisdom; and yet not wholly dreary. There is a power and a consolation44 in it. Misery is the mind-maker; the revealer of truth; the spring of nobleness; the test, the purger45, the strengthener of the spirit. Our natures are like grapes in the wine press: they must be pressed to the uttermost before they will give forth46 all their virtue47.
"Why do I delude48 myself? What good can be wrung49 out of a misery like mine? It is folly50 to cheat myself with hope. This hell-begotten Austria has me fast, and will not loosen her gripe. Abroad in the free world, fortitude51 will count for much. There, one can hold firm the clefts52 and cracks of his tottering53 fortunes with the cement of an unyielding mind; but here, it is but bare and blank endurance. Yet it is something that I can still find heart to face my doom13; that there are still moments when I dare to meet this death-in-life, this slow-consuming horror, face to face, and look into all its hideousness54 without shrinking. To creep on to my end through years of slow decay, mind and soul famishing in solitude55, sapped and worn, eaten and fretted56 away, by the droppings of lonely thought, till I find my rest at last under these cursed stones! God! could I but die the death of a man! De Foix,—Dundee,—Wolfe. I grudge57 them their bloody58 end. When the fierce blood boiled highest, when the keen life was tingling59 through their veins60, and the shout of victory ringing in their ears, then to be launched at a breath forth into the wilderness61 of space, to sail through eternity, to explore the seas and continents of the vast unknown! But I,—I must lie here and rot. You fool! you are tied to the stake, and must bide62 the baiting as you can. Will you play the coward? What can you gain by that? You cannot run away. What wretch36, when misery falls upon him, will not cry out, 'Take any shape but that?' In the familiar crowd, in the daily resort, how many an unregarded face masks a wretchedness worse than this! some shrunken, cankered soul, palsied and world-weary, more hopelessly dungeoned than you. Crush down your anguish, choke down your groan63, and say, 'Heaven's will be done.'
"Muster64 what courage you may. Not those spasms65 of valor66 that make the hero of an emergency, and when the heart is on fire and the soul in arms, bear him on to great achievement. Mine must be an inward flame, that warms though it cannot shine; a fire, like the sacred Chaldean fire, that must never go out; a perpetual spring, flowing up without ceasing, to meet the unceasing need.
"And you, source of my deepest joy and my deepest sorrow,—do not fail me now. Come to me in this darkness; let your spirit haunt this tomb where I lie buried. In your presence, the evil of my heart shrank back, rebuked67; its good sprang up and grew in life and freshness. You rose upon me like the sun, warming every noble germ into leaf and flower. You streamed into my soul, banishing68 its mists, and gladdening it to its depths with summer light. These are no girl's tears. Towards myself and my own woes69, I have hardened my heart like the barren flint. I should be less than man if I did not weep when I think of you. You must pass the appointed lot; you must fade with time and sorrow; but to me you will be radiant still with youth and beauty. So will I bide my hour, anchored on that pure and lofty memory, waiting that last release when the winged spirit shall laugh at bolts and dungeon bars."
点击收听单词发音
1 eternity | |
n.不朽,来世;永恒,无穷 | |
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2 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
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3 convalescence | |
n.病后康复期 | |
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4 dungeon | |
n.地牢,土牢 | |
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5 prospects | |
n.希望,前途(恒为复数) | |
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6 knaves | |
n.恶棍,无赖( knave的名词复数 );(纸牌中的)杰克 | |
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7 profligacy | |
n.放荡,不检点,肆意挥霍 | |
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8 stifled | |
(使)窒息, (使)窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 ); 镇压,遏制; 堵 | |
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9 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
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10 swelling | |
n.肿胀 | |
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11 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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12 frenzy | |
n.疯狂,狂热,极度的激动 | |
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13 doom | |
n.厄运,劫数;v.注定,命定 | |
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14 dooms | |
v.注定( doom的第三人称单数 );判定;使…的失败(或灭亡、毁灭、坏结局)成为必然;宣判 | |
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15 preying | |
v.掠食( prey的现在分词 );掠食;折磨;(人)靠欺诈为生 | |
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16 sustenance | |
n.食物,粮食;生活资料;生计 | |
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17 gasps | |
v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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18 marsh | |
n.沼泽,湿地 | |
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19 quagmire | |
n.沼地 | |
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20 stagnant | |
adj.不流动的,停滞的,不景气的 | |
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21 knights | |
骑士; (中古时代的)武士( knight的名词复数 ); 骑士; 爵士; (国际象棋中)马 | |
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22 subdued | |
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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23 quenched | |
解(渴)( quench的过去式和过去分词 ); 终止(某事物); (用水)扑灭(火焰等); 将(热物体)放入水中急速冷却 | |
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24 panacea | |
n.万灵药;治百病的灵药 | |
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25 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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26 villains | |
n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 );罪犯;(小说、戏剧等中的)反面人物;淘气鬼 | |
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27 plunge | |
v.跳入,(使)投入,(使)陷入;猛冲 | |
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28 slough | |
v.蜕皮,脱落,抛弃 | |
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29 frantic | |
adj.狂乱的,错乱的,激昂的 | |
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30 bulwark | |
n.堡垒,保障,防御 | |
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31 clinching | |
v.(尤指两人)互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的现在分词 );解决(争端、交易),达成(协议) | |
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32 plunging | |
adj.跳进的,突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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33 pious | |
adj.虔诚的;道貌岸然的 | |
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34 fervent | |
adj.热的,热烈的,热情的 | |
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35 scourge | |
n.灾难,祸害;v.蹂躏 | |
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36 wretch | |
n.可怜的人,不幸的人;卑鄙的人 | |
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37 scruple | |
n./v.顾忌,迟疑 | |
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38 delving | |
v.深入探究,钻研( delve的现在分词 ) | |
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39 penance | |
n.(赎罪的)惩罪 | |
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40 devours | |
吞没( devour的第三人称单数 ); 耗尽; 津津有味地看; 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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41 eludes | |
v.(尤指机敏地)避开( elude的第三人称单数 );逃避;躲避;使达不到 | |
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42 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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43 follies | |
罪恶,时事讽刺剧; 愚蠢,蠢笨,愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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44 consolation | |
n.安慰,慰问 | |
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45 purger | |
清除别人者 | |
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46 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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47 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
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48 delude | |
vt.欺骗;哄骗 | |
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49 wrung | |
绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 ); 握紧(尤指别人的手); 把(湿衣服)拧干; 绞掉(水) | |
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50 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
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51 fortitude | |
n.坚忍不拔;刚毅 | |
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52 clefts | |
n.裂缝( cleft的名词复数 );裂口;cleave的过去式和过去分词;进退维谷 | |
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53 tottering | |
adj.蹒跚的,动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 );踉跄;蹒跚;摇摇欲坠 | |
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54 hideousness | |
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55 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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56 fretted | |
焦躁的,附有弦马的,腐蚀的 | |
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57 grudge | |
n.不满,怨恨,妒嫉;vt.勉强给,不情愿做 | |
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58 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
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59 tingling | |
v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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60 veins | |
n.纹理;矿脉( vein的名词复数 );静脉;叶脉;纹理 | |
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61 wilderness | |
n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等,荒漠 | |
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62 bide | |
v.忍耐;等候;住 | |
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63 groan | |
vi./n.呻吟,抱怨;(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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64 muster | |
v.集合,收集,鼓起,激起;n.集合,检阅,集合人员,点名册 | |
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65 spasms | |
n.痉挛( spasm的名词复数 );抽搐;(能量、行为等的)突发;发作 | |
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66 valor | |
n.勇气,英勇 | |
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67 rebuked | |
责难或指责( rebuke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68 banishing | |
v.放逐,驱逐( banish的现在分词 ) | |
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69 woes | |
困境( woe的名词复数 ); 悲伤; 我好苦哇; 某人就要倒霉 | |
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