By and by, his own mood seemed to brighten Miriam’s, and was reflected back upon himself. He began inevitably7, as it were, to dance along the wood-path; flinging himself into attitudes of strange comic grace. Often, too, he ran a little way in advance of his companion, and then stood to watch her as she approached along the shadowy and sun-fleckered path. With every step she took, he expressed his joy at her nearer and nearer presence by what might be thought an extravagance of gesticulation, but which doubtless was the language of the natural man, though laid aside and forgotten by other men, now that words have been feebly substituted in the place of signs and symbols. He gave Miriam the idea of a being not precisely8 man, nor yet a child, but, in a high and beautiful sense, an animal, a creature in a state of development less than what mankind has attained10, yet the more perfect within itself for that very deficiency. This idea filled her mobile imagination with agreeable fantasies, which, after smiling at them herself, she tried to convey to the young man.
“What are you, my friend?” she exclaimed, always keeping in mind his singular resemblance to the Faun of the Capitol. “If you are, in good truth, that wild and pleasant creature whose face you wear, pray make me known to your kindred. They will be found hereabouts, if anywhere. Knock at the rough rind of this ilex-tree, and summon forth11 the Dryad! Ask the water-nymph to rise dripping from yonder fountain, and exchange a moist pressure of the hand with me! Do not fear that I shall shrink; even if one of your rough cousins, a hairy Satyr, should come capering12 on his goat-legs out of the haunts of far antiquity13, and propose to dance with me among these lawns! And will not Bacchus,—with whom you consorted14 so familiarly of old, and who loved you so well,—will he not meet us here, and squeeze rich grapes into his cup for you and me?”
Donatello smiled; he laughed heartily15, indeed, in sympathy with the mirth that gleamed out of Miriam’s deep, dark eyes. But he did not seem quite to understand her mirthful talk, nor to be disposed to explain what kind of creature he was, or to inquire with what divine or poetic16 kindred his companion feigned17 to link him. He appeared only to know that Miriam was beautiful, and that she smiled graciously upon him; that the present moment was very sweet, and himself most happy, with the sunshine, the sylvan18 scenery, and woman’s kindly19 charm, which it enclosed within its small circumference20. It was delightful21 to see the trust which he reposed22 in Miriam, and his pure joy in her propinquity; he asked nothing, sought nothing, save to be near the beloved object, and brimmed over with ecstasy23 at that simple boon24. A creature of the happy tribes below us sometimes shows the capacity of this enjoyment25; a man, seldom or never.
“Donatello,” said Miriam, looking at him thoughtfully, but amused, yet not without a shade of sorrow, “you seem very happy; what makes you so?”
“Because I love you!” answered Donatello.
He made this momentous27 confession28 as if it were the most natural thing in the world; and on her part,—such was the contagion29 of his simplicity30,—Miriam heard it without anger or disturbance31, though with no responding emotion. It was as if they had strayed across the limits of Arcadia; and come under a civil polity where young men might avow32 their passion with as little restraint as a bird pipes its note to a similar purpose.
“Why should you love me, foolish boy?” said she. “We have no points of sympathy at all. There are not two creatures more unlike, in this wide world, than you and I!”
“You are yourself, and I am Donatello,” replied he. “Therefore I love you! There needs no other reason.”
Certainly, there was no better or more explicable reason. It might have been imagined that Donatello’s unsophisticated heart would be more readily attracted to a feminine nature of clear simplicity like his own, than to one already turbid33 with grief or wrong, as Miriam’s seemed to be. Perhaps, On the other hand, his character needed the dark element, which it found in her. The force and energy of will, that sometimes flashed through her eyes, may have taken him captive; or, not improbably, the varying lights and shadows of her temper, now so mirthful, and anon so sad with mysterious gloom, had bewitched the youth. Analyze34 the matter as we may, the reason assigned by Donatello himself was as satisfactory as we are likely to attain9.
Miriam could not think seriously of the avowal35 that had passed. He held out his love so freely, in his open palm, that she felt it could be nothing but a toy, which she might play with for an instant, and give back again. And yet Donatello’s heart was so fresh a fountain, that, had Miriam been more world-worn than she was, she might have found it exquisite36 to slake37 her thirst with the feelings that welled up and brimmed over from it. She was far, very far, from the dusty mediaeval epoch38, when some women have a taste for such refreshment39. Even for her, however, there was an inexpressible charm in the simplicity that prompted Donatello’s words and deeds; though, unless she caught them in precisely the true light, they seemed but folly40, the offspring of a maimed or imperfectly developed intellect. Alternately, she almost admired, or wholly scorned him, and knew not which estimate resulted from the deeper appreciation41. But it could not, she decided42 for herself, be other than an innocent pastime, if they two—sure to be separated by their different paths in life, to-morrow—were to gather up some of the little pleasures that chanced to grow about their feet, like the violets and wood-anemones, to-day.
Yet an impulse of rectitude impelled43 Miriam to give him what she still held to be a needless warning against an imaginary peril44.
“If you were wiser, Donatello, you would think me a dangerous person,” said she, “If you follow my footsteps, they will lead you to no good. You ought to be afraid of me.”
“I would as soon think of fearing the air we breathe,” he replied.
“And well you may, for it is full of malaria,” said Miriam; she went on, hinting at an intangible confession, such as persons with overburdened hearts often make to children or dumb animals, or to holes in the earth, where they think their secrets may be at once revealed and buried. “Those who come too near me are in danger of great mischiefs45, I do assure you. Take warning, therefore! It is a sad fatality46 that has brought you from your home among the Apennines,—some rusty47 old castle, I suppose, with a village at its foot, and an Arcadian environment of vineyards, fig-trees, and olive orchards,—a sad mischance, I say, that has transported you to my side. You have had a happy life hitherto, have you not, Donatello?”
“O, yes,” answered the young man; and, though not of a retrospective turn, he made the best effort he could to send his mind back into the past. “I remember thinking it happiness to dance with the contadinas at a village feast; to taste the new, sweet wine at vintage-time, and the old, ripened48 wine, which our podere is famous for, in the cold winter evenings; and to devour49 great, luscious50 figs51, and apricots, peaches, cherries, and melons. I was often happy in the woods, too, with hounds and horses, and very happy in watching all sorts, of creatures and birds that haunt the leafy solitudes52. But never half so happy as now!”
“Here, and with you,” answered Donatello. “Just as we are now.”
“What a fulness of content in him! How silly, and how delightful!” said Miriam to herself. Then addressing him again: “But, Donatello, how long will this happiness last?”
“How long!” he exclaimed; for it perplexed55 him even more to think of the future than to remember the past. “Why should it have any end? How long! Forever! forever! forever!”
“The child! the simpleton!” said Miriam, with sudden laughter, and checking it as suddenly. “But is he a simpleton indeed? Here, in those few natural words, he has expressed that deep sense, that profound conviction of its own immortality57, which genuine love never fails to bring. He perplexes me,—yes, and bewitches me,—wild, gentle, beautiful creature that he is! It is like playing with a young greyhound!”
Her eyes filled with tears, at the same time that a smile shone out of them. Then first she became sensible of a delight and grief at once, in feeling this zephyr58 of a new affection, with its untainted freshness, blow over her weary, stifled59 heart, which had no right to be revived by it. The very exquisiteness60 of the enjoyment made her know that it ought to be a forbidden one.
“Donatello,” she hastily exclaimed, “for your own sake, leave me! It is not such a happy thing as you imagine it, to wander in these woods with me, a girl from another land, burdened with a doom61 that she tells to none. I might make you dread62 me,—perhaps hate me,—if I chose; and I must choose, if I find you loving me too well!”
“I fear nothing!” said Donatello, looking into her unfathomable eyes with perfect trust. “I love always!”
“I speak in vain,” thought Miriam within herself.
“Well, then, for this one hour, let me be such as he imagines me. To-morrow will be time enough to come back to my reality. My reality! what is it? Is the past so indestructible? the future so immitigable? Is the dark dream, in which I walk, of such solid, stony63 substance, that there can be no escape out of its dungeon64? Be it so! There is, at least, that ethereal quality in my spirit, that it can make me as gay as Donatello himself,—for this one hour!”
And immediately she brightened up, as if an inward flame, heretofore stifled, were now permitted to fill her with its happy lustre65, glowing through her cheeks and dancing in her eye-beams.
Donatello, brisk and cheerful as he seemed before, showed a sensibility to Miriam’s gladdened mood by breaking into still wilder and ever-varying activity. He frisked around her, bubbling over with joy, which clothed itself in words that had little individual meaning, and in snatches of song that seemed as natural as bird notes. Then they both laughed together, and heard their own laughter returning in the echoes, and laughed again at the response, so that the ancient and solemn grove54 became full of merriment for these two blithe66 spirits. A bird happening to sing cheerily, Donatello gave a peculiar67 call, and the little feathered creature came fluttering about his head, as if it had known him through many summers.
“How close he stands to nature!” said Miriam, observing this pleasant familiarity between her companion and the bird. “He shall make me as natural as himself for this one hour.”
As they strayed through that sweet wilderness68, she felt more and more the influence of his elastic69 temperament70. Miriam was an impressible and impulsive71 creature, as unlike herself, in different moods, as if a melancholy72 maiden73 and a glad one were both bound within the girdle about her waist, and kept in magic thraldom74 by the brooch that clasped it. Naturally, it is true, she was the more inclined to melancholy, yet fully26 capable of that high frolic of the spirits which richly compensates75 for many gloomy hours; if her soul was apt to lurk76 in the darkness of a cavern77, she could sport madly in the sunshine before the cavern’s mouth. Except the freshest mirth of animal spirits, like Donatello’s, there is no merriment, no wild exhilaration, comparable to that of melancholy people escaping from the dark region in which it is their custom to keep themselves imprisoned78.
So the shadowy Miriam almost outdid Donatello on his own ground. They ran races with each other, side by side, with shouts and laughter; they pelted79 one another with early flowers, and gathering80 them up twined them with green leaves into garlands for both their heads. They played together like children, or creatures of immortal56 youth. So much had they flung aside the sombre habitudes of daily life, that they seemed born to be sportive forever, and endowed with eternal mirthfulness instead of any deeper joy. It was a glimpse far backward into Arcadian life, or, further still, into the Golden Age, before mankind was burdened with sin and sorrow, and before pleasure had been darkened with those shadows that bring it into high relief, and make it happiness.
“Hark!” cried Donatello, stopping short, as he was about to bind81 Miriam’s fair hands with flowers, and lead her along in triumph, “there is music somewhere in the grove!”
“It is your kinsman82, Pan, most likely,” said Miriam, “playing on his pipe. Let us go seek him, and make him puff83 out his rough cheeks and pipe his merriest air! Come; the strain of music will guide us onward84 like a gayly colored thread of silk.”
“Or like a chain of flowers,” responded Donatello, drawing her along by that which he had twined. “This way!—Come!”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
joyous
|
|
| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
effervesced
|
|
| v.冒气泡，起泡沫( effervesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
copiously
|
|
| adv.丰富地，充裕地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
demonstration
|
|
| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
instinctive
|
|
| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
agile
|
|
| adj.敏捷的，灵活的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
inevitably
|
|
| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
attain
|
|
| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
attained
|
|
| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
capering
|
|
| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的现在分词 )；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
antiquity
|
|
| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
consorted
|
|
| v.结伴( consort的过去式和过去分词 )；交往；相称；调和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
poetic
|
|
| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
feigned
|
|
| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
sylvan
|
|
| adj.森林的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
circumference
|
|
| n.圆周，周长，圆周线 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
reposed
|
|
| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
ecstasy
|
|
| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
boon
|
|
| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
momentous
|
|
| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
contagion
|
|
| n.(通过接触的疾病)传染；蔓延 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
disturbance
|
|
| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
avow
|
|
| v.承认，公开宣称 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
turbid
|
|
| adj.混浊的，泥水的，浓的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
analyze
|
|
| vt.分析，解析 (=analyse) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
avowal
|
|
| n.公开宣称，坦白承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
slake
|
|
| v.解渴，使平息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
epoch
|
|
| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
refreshment
|
|
| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
appreciation
|
|
| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
impelled
|
|
| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
mischiefs
|
|
| 损害( mischief的名词复数 )； 危害； 胡闹； 调皮捣蛋的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
fatality
|
|
| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
rusty
|
|
| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
ripened
|
|
| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
devour
|
|
| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
luscious
|
|
| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
figs
|
|
| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
solitudes
|
|
| n.独居( solitude的名词复数 )；孤独；荒僻的地方；人迹罕至的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
groves
|
|
| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
grove
|
|
| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
immortal
|
|
| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
immortality
|
|
| n.不死，不朽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
zephyr
|
|
| n.和风，微风 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
stifled
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
exquisiteness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
doom
|
|
| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
stony
|
|
| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
dungeon
|
|
| n.地牢，土牢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
lustre
|
|
| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
blithe
|
|
| adj.快乐的，无忧无虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
elastic
|
|
| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
temperament
|
|
| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
impulsive
|
|
| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
maiden
|
|
| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
thraldom
|
|
| n.奴隶的身份，奴役，束缚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
75
compensates
|
|
| 补偿，报酬( compensate的第三人称单数 )； 给（某人）赔偿（或赔款） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
lurk
|
|
| n.潜伏，潜行；v.潜藏，潜伏，埋伏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
cavern
|
|
| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
imprisoned
|
|
| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
pelted
|
|
| （连续地）投掷( pelt的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续抨击； 攻击； 剥去…的皮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
bind
|
|
| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
kinsman
|
|
| n.男亲属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
puff
|
|
| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
onward
|
|
| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |