Kneeling at the casement8 of a postulant’s cell, Laura de Nazianzi recalled that serene9, and just thus had she often planned must dawn her bridal day!
Beyond the cruciform flower-beds, and the cloister wall, soared the Blue Jesus, the storied windows of its lofty galleries aglow10 with light. 209
“Most gracious Jesus. Help me to forget. For my heart aches. Uphold me now.”
But to forget to-day, was well-nigh she knew impossible....
Once it seemed she caught the sound of splendid music from the direction of the Park, but it was too early for music yet. Away in the palace, the Princess Elsie must be already astir ... in her peignoir, perhaps? The bridal-garment unfolded upon the bed: But no; it was said the bed indeed was where usually her Royal-Highness’ dogs....
With a long and very involuntary sigh, she began to sweep, and put in some order, her room.
How forlorn her cornette looked upon her prie-Dieu! And, oh, how stern, and “old”!
Would an impulse to bend it slightly but only so, so slightly, to an angle to suit her face, be attended, later, by remorse11?
“Confiteor Deo omnipotenti, beatae Mariae semper vergini, beato Michaeli Archangelo (et tibi Pater), quia peccavi 210 nimis cogitatione, verbo et opere,” she entreated12, reposing13 her chin in meditation14, upon the handle of her broom.
The bluish shadow of a cypress-tree, on the empty wall, fascinated her as few pictures had.
“Grant my soul Eyes,” she prayed, cheerfully completing her task.
In the corridor, being a general holiday, all was yet quite still. A sound, as of gentle snoring, came indeed from behind more than one closed door, and the new pensionnaire was preparing to beat a retreat, when she perceived, in the cloister, the dumpish form of Old Jane.
Seated in the sun by the convent well, the Porteress was sharing a scrap15 of breakfast with the birds.
“You’re soonish for Mass, love,” she broke out, her large archaic16 features surcharged with smiles.
“It’s such a perfect morning, I felt I must come down.”
“I’ve seen many a more promising17 sunrise before now, my dear, turn to storm and blast! An orange sky overhead, 211 brings back to me the morning that I was received; ah, I shall never forget, as I was taking my Vows19, a flash of forked lightning, and a clap of Thunder (Glory be to God!) followed by a water-spout (Mercy save us!) bursting all over my Frinch lace veil....”
“What is your book, Old Jane?”
“Something light, love, as it’s a holiday.”
“Pascal....”
“Though it’s mostly a Fête day I’ve extra to do!” the Porteress averred20, dropping her eyes to the great, glistening21 spits, upon the Cloister flags. It was her boast she could distinguish Monsignor Potts’ round splash from Father Geordie Picpus’ more dapper fine one, and again the Abbess’ from Mother Martinez de la Rosa’s—although these indeed shared a certain opaque22 sameness.
“Of course it’s a day for private visits.”
“Since the affair of Sister Dorothea and Brother Bernard Soult, private visits are no longer allowed,” the Porteress returned, reproving modestly, with the cord of her discipline, a pert little lizard23, that seemed 212 to be proposing to penetrate24 between the nude25 toes of her sandalled foot.
But on such a radiant morning it was preposterous26 to hint at “Rules.”
Beneath the clement27 sun a thousand cicadas were insouciantly28 chirping29, while birds, skimming about without thoughts of money, floated lightly from tree to tree.
“Jesus—Mary—Joseph!” the Porteress purred, as a Nun30, with her face all muffled31 up in wool, crossed the Cloister, glancing neither to right nor left, and sharply slammed a door: for, already, the Convent was beginning to give signs of animation32. Deep in a book of Our Lady’s Hours, a biretta’d priest was slowly rounding a garden path, while repairing from a Grotto33-sepulchre, to which was attached a handsome indulgence, Mother Martinez de la Rosa appeared, all heavily leaning on her stick.
Simultaneously34 the matins bell rang out, calling all to prayer.
The Convent Chapel35 founded by the tender enthusiasm of a wealthy widow, the Countess d’Acunha, to perpetuate36 her 213 earthly comradeship with the beautiful Andalusian, the Do?a Dolores Baatz, was still but thinly peopled some few minutes later, although the warning bell had stopped.
Peering around, Laura was disappointed not to remark Sister Ursula in her habitual37 place, between the veiled fresco38 of the “Circumcision” and the stoup of holy-water by the door.
Beyond an offer to “exchange whippings” there had been a certain coolness in the greeting with her friend, that had both surprised and pained her.
“When those we rely on wound and betray us, to whom should we turn but Thee?” she breathed, addressing a crucifix, in ivory, contrived39 by love, that was a miracle of wonder.
Finished Mass, there was a general rush for the Refectory!
Preceded by Sister Clothilde, and followed, helter-skelter, by an exuberant40 bevy41 of nuns42, even Mother Martinez, who being shortsighted would go feeling the ground with her cane43, was propelled to the measure of a hop-and-skip. 214
Passing beneath an archway, labelled “Silence” (the injunction to-day being undoubtedly44 ignored), the company was welcomed by the mingled45 odours of tea, consommé, and fruit. It was a custom of the Convent for one of the Sisters during meal-time to read aloud from some standard work of fideism, and these edifying46 recitations, interspersed47 by such whispered questions as: “Tea, or Consommé?” “A Banana, or a Pomegranate?” gave to those at all foolishly, or hysterically48 inclined, a painful desire to giggle49. Mounting the pulpit-lectern, a nun with an aristocratic, though gourmand50 little face, was about to resume the arid51 life of the Byzantine monk52, Basilius Saturninus, when Mother Martinez de la Rosa took it upon herself, in a few patriotic53 words, to relax all rules for that day.
“We understand in the world now,” a little faded woman murmured to Laura upon her right: “that the latest craze among ladies is to gild54 their tongues; but I should be afraid,” she added diffidently, dipping her banana into her tea, “of poison, myself!” 215
Unhappy at her friend’s absence from the Refectory, Laura, however, was in no mood to entertain the nuns with stories of the present pagan tendencies of society.
Through the bare, blindless windows, framing a sky so bluely luminous55, came the swelling56 clamour of the assembling crowds, tinging57 the languid air as with some sultry fever. From the Chausée, music of an extraordinary intention—heated music, crude music, played with passionate58 élan to perfect time, conjured59 up, with vivid, heartrending prosaicness60, the seething61 Boulevards beyond the high old creeper-covered walls.
“I forget now, Mother, which of the Queens it is that will wear a velvet62 train of a beautiful orchid63 shade: But one of them will!” Sister Irene of the Incarnation was holding forth64.
“I must confess,” Mother Martinez remarked, who was peeling herself a peach, with an air of far attention: “I must confess, I should have liked to have cast my eye upon the lingerie....”
“Of course Sister Laura saw the trousseau?”
But Laura made feint not to hear.
Discipline relaxed, a number of nuns had collected provisions and were picnicking in the window, where Sister Innez (an ex-Repertoire actress) was giving some spirited renderings67 of her chief successful parts—Jane de Simerose, Frou-Frou, Sappho, Cigarette....
“My darling child! I always sleep all day and only revive when there’s a Man,” she was saying with an impudent68 look, sending the scandalised Sisters into delighted convulsions.
Unable to endure it any longer, Laura crept away.
A desire for air and solitude69, led her towards the Recreation ground. After the hot refectory, sauntering in the silken shade of the old astounding70 cedars71, was delightful72 quite. In the deserted73 alleys74, the golden blossoms of the censia-trees, 217 unable to resist the sun, littered in perfumed piles the ground, overcoming her before long with a sensation akin18 to vertige. Anxious to find her friend, Laura turned towards her cell.
She found Sister Ursula leaning on her window-ledge all crouched75 up—like a Duchess on “a First Night.”
“My dear, my dear, the crowds!”
“Ursula?”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Perhaps I’ll go, since I’m in the way.”
“Touchy Goose,” Sister Ursula murmured wheeling round with a glance of complex sweetness.
“Ah, Ursula,” Laura sighed, smiling reproachfully at her friend.
She had long almond eyes, one longer and larger than the other, that gave to her narrow, etiolated face, an exalted76, mystic air. Her hair, wholly concealed77 by her full coif, would be inclined to rich copper78 or chestnut79: Indeed, below the pinched and sensitive nostrils80, a moustache (so slight as to be scarcely discernible) proved this beyond all controversy81 to be so. But 218 perhaps the quality and beauty of her hands were her chief distinction.
“Do you believe it would cause an earthquake, if we climbed out, dear little one, upon the leads?” she asked.
“I had forgotten you overlooked the street by leaning out,” Laura answered, sinking fatigued82 to a little cane armchair.
“Listen, Laura...!”
“This cheering racks my heart....”
“Ah, Astaroth! There went a very ‘swell’ carriage.”
“Perhaps I’ll come back later: It’s less noisy in my cell.”
“Now you’re here, I shall ask you, I think, to whip me.”
“Oh, no....”
A crucifix, a text: I would lay Pansies at Jesus’ Feet, two fresh eggs in a blue paper bag, some ends of string, a breviary, and a birch, were the chamber’s individual, if meagre, contents. 219
“You used not to have that text, Ursula,” Laura observed, her attention arrested by the preparation of a Cinematograph Company on the parapet of the Cathedral.
The Church had much need indeed of Reformation! The Times were incredibly low: A new crusade ... she ruminated85, revolted at the sight of an old man holding dizzily to a stone-winged angel, with a wine-flask at his lips.
“No, really, no—!—!—!”
“Quite lightly: For I was scourged87, by Sister Agnes, but yesterday, with a heavy bunch of keys, head downwards88, hanging from a bar.”
“Oh....”
“This morning she sent me those pullets’ eggs. I perfectly89 was touched by her delicate sweet sympathy.”
“It must have hurt you?”
“I assure you I felt nothing—my spirit had travelled so far,” Sister Ursula replied, 220 turning to throw an interested glance at the street.
It was close now upon the critical hour, and the plaudits of the crowd were becoming more and more uproarious, as “favourites” in Public life, and “celebrities” of all sorts, began to arrive in brisk succession at the allotted91 door of the Cathedral.
“I could almost envy the fleas92 in the Cardinal’s vestments,” Sister Ursula declared, overcome by the venal93 desire to see.
Gazing at the friend upon whom she had counted in some disillusion94, Laura quietly left her.
The impulse to witness something of the spectacle outside was, nevertheless, infectious, and recollecting95 that from the grotto-sepulchre in the garden it was not impossible to attain96 the convent wall, she determined97, moved by some wayward instinct, to do so. Frequently, as a child, had she scaled it, to survey the doings of the city streets beyond—the streets, named by the nuns often “Sinward-ho.” Crossing the cloisters98, and through old gates crowned by vast fruit-baskets in stone, she followed, 221 feverishly99 the ivy-masked bricks of the sheltering wall, and was relieved to reach the grotto without encountering anyone. Surrounded by heavy boskage, it marked a spot where, once, long ago, one of the Sisters, it was said, had received the mystic stigmata.... With a feline100 effort (her feet supported by the Grotto boulders), it needed but a bound to attain an incomparable post of vantage.
Beneath a blaze of bunting, the street seemed paved with heads. “Madonna,” she breathed, as an official on a white horse, its mane stained black, began authoritatively101 backing his steed into the patient faces of the mob, startling an infant in arms below, to a frantic102 fit of squalls.
“Just so shall we stand on the Day of Judgment,” she reflected, blinking at the glare.
Street boys vending103 programmes, ‘Lucky’ horseshoes, Saturnalian emblems—(these for gentlemen only), offering postcards of ‘Geo and Glory,’ etc., wedged their way however where it might have been deemed indeed impossible for anyone to pass. 222
And he, she wondered, her eyes following the wheeling pigeons, alarmed by the recurrent salutes104 of the signal guns, he must be there already: Under the dome105! Restive106 a little beneath the busy scrutiny107, his tongue like the point of a blade....
A burst of cheering seemed to announce the Queen. But no, it was only a lady, with a parasol sewn with diamonds, that was exciting the rah-rahs of the crowd. Followed by mingled cries of “Shame!” “Waste!” and sighs of envy, Madame Wetme was enjoying a belated triumph. And now a brief lull108, as a brake containing various delegates and “representatives of English Culture,” rolled by at a stately trot—Lady Alexander, E. V. Lucas, Robert Hichens, Clutton Brock, etc.,—the ensemble109 the very apotheosis110 of worn-out cliché.
“There’s someone there wot’s got enough heron plumes111 on her head!” a young girl in the crowd remarked.
And nobody contradicted her.
Then troops and outriders, and at last the Queen.
She was looking charming in a Corinthian 223 chlamyde, in a carriage lined in deep delphinium blue, behind six restive blue roan horses.
Finally, the bride and her father, bowing this way and that....
Cheers.
“Huzzas”—
Below the wall the voice of a beggar arose, persistent113, haunting: “For the Love of God.... In the Name of Pity ... of Pity.”
“Of Pity,” she echoed, addressing a frail114, wind-sown harebell, blue as the sky: And leaning upon the shattered glass ends, that crowned the wall, she fell to considering the future—Obedience, Solitude—death.
The troubling valse theme from Dante in Paris interrupted her meditations115.
How often had they valsed it together, he and she ... sometimes as a two-step...! What souvenirs.... Yousef, Yousef.... Above the Cathedral, the crumbling116 clouds, had eclipsed the sun. In the intense meridian117 glare the thronged118 224 street seemed even as though half-hypnotised; occasionally only the angle of a parasol would change, or some bored soldier’s legs would give a little. When brusquely, from the belfry, burst a triumphant119 clash of bells.
Laura caught her breath.
Already?
A shaking of countless120 handkerchiefs in wild ovation121: From roof-tops, and balconies, the air was thick with falling flowers—the bridal pair!
But only for the bridegroom had she eyes.
Oblivious122 of what she did, she began to beat her hands, until they streamed with blood, against the broken glass ends upon the wall: “Yousef, Yousef, Yousef....”
July 1921, May 1922.
Versailles, Montreux, Florence. 225
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
Carl Van Vechten, in The Double Dealer123: “It is high time that the world should know something of the works of Ronald Firbank. He is the Pierrot of the Minute. Plus chic124 que le futurisme. Aubrey Beardsley in a Rolls-Royce. Sacher-Masoch in Mayfair. ‘A Rebours’ à la mode. Aretino in Piccadilly. Jean Cocteau at the Savoy. The Oxford125 Tradition with a dash of the Paris bains de vapeurs.... Firbank plays Picasso’s violin.”
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1
cloister
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| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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titanic
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| adj.巨人的，庞大的，强大的 | |
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bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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aglow
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| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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reposing
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的现在分词 ) | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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archaic
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| adj.(语言、词汇等)古代的，已不通用的 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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averred
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| v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；证明…属实；作为事实提出 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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opaque
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| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
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lizard
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| n.蜥蜴，壁虎 | |
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penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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nude
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| adj.裸体的；n.裸体者，裸体艺术品 | |
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preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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clement
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| adj.仁慈的；温和的 | |
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insouciantly
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| adj.无忧无虑的，漠不关心的 | |
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chirping
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的现在分词 ) | |
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nun
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| n.修女，尼姑 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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grotto
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| n.洞穴 | |
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simultaneously
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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perpetuate
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| v.使永存，使永记不忘 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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fresco
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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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bevy
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| n.一群 | |
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nuns
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| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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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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edifying
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| adj.有教训意味的，教训性的，有益的v.开导，启发( edify的现在分词 ) | |
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interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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gourmand
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| n.嗜食者 | |
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arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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54
gild
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| vt.给…镀金，把…漆成金色，使呈金色 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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tinging
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的现在分词 ) | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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conjured
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| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
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prosaicness
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seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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orchid
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| n.兰花，淡紫色 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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renderings
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| n.（戏剧或乐曲的）演奏( rendering的名词复数 )；扮演；表演；翻译作品 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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71
cedars
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| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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77
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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78
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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80
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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81
controversy
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| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
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82
fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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83
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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ruminated
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| v.沉思( ruminate的过去式和过去分词 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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86
mortify
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| v.克制，禁欲，使受辱 | |
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87
scourged
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| 鞭打( scourge的过去式和过去分词 )； 惩罚，压迫 | |
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downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fleas
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| n.跳蚤( flea的名词复数 )；爱财如命；没好气地（拒绝某人的要求） | |
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venal
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| adj.唯利是图的，贪脏枉法的 | |
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disillusion
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| vt.使不再抱幻想，使理想破灭 | |
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recollecting
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| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
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attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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98
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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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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feline
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| adj.猫科的 | |
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101
authoritatively
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| 命令式地，有权威地，可信地 | |
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102
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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103
vending
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| v.出售（尤指土地等财产）( vend的现在分词 )；（尤指在公共场所）贩卖；发表（意见，言论）；声明 | |
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104
salutes
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| n.致敬，欢迎，敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎，致敬( salute的第三人称单数 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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105
dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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106
restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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107
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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108
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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109
ensemble
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| n.合奏(唱)组；全套服装；整体，总效果 | |
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apotheosis
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| n.神圣之理想；美化；颂扬 | |
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111
plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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112
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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113
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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114
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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115
meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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116
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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117
meridian
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| adj.子午线的；全盛期的 | |
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118
thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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119
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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120
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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121
ovation
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| n.欢呼，热烈欢迎，热烈鼓掌 | |
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122
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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123
dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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124
chic
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| n./adj.别致(的)，时髦(的)，讲究的 | |
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125
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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