Gloriously poured down the fervid2 rays of a July sun, colouring the peach on the wall, swelling3 the rich fig4 under its clustering leaves, ripening5 the purple grape, and over the corn fields throwing a mantle6 of gold! No longer in the fisherman’s hovel, but reclining on a sofa in the countess’s splendid boudoir, we find the Earl of Dashleigh, yet pale from recent illness; the outline of the sunken cheek, the violet tint7 beneath the eyes, the whiteness of the transparent8 skin, tell of suffering severe and protracted9, but health and strength are returning to his frame, while to the restored invalid11 lately released from the confinement12 of a sick room—
“The common air, the earth, the skies,
To him are opening paradise!”
By the softened13 light which steals in through the green venetians, the earl has been whiling away the languid, luxurious14 hour of noon by perusing15 a volume of light literature, in which he has found great[264] amusement; that volume, bound in violet and gold, is now lying on the sofa beside him; we recognise in it “The Fairy Lake,” written by the Countess of Dashleigh.
Annabella is seated on a low ottoman beside her lord. She has been listening with pleased attention to his remarks and comments upon her work.
“Perhaps, after all,” observes Dashleigh, laying his hand on the book, “it is hard to restrict to a few that which might afford pleasure to the many, and to deprive the young authoress of the praise and the fame which publication would bring her.”
“O Reginald!” replies his wife with glistening16 eyes, “your praise to me outweighs17 that of the world, and empty fame is nothing in comparison to a husband’s heart! It would pain me if any eye but yours should ever look on that which I must ever regard as a monument of my own disobedience.”
Annabella’s manner towards her husband has undergone a change since their re-union in the fisherman’s cottage. She is gradually resuming her playfulness of conversation, and the wit in which the earl delights still sparkles for his amusement; but there is more, far more of submission19 to his authority, and of deference20 to his wishes in her demeanour; Annabella no longer desires to forget that her vow21 was not only to love, but to obey.
This change is chiefly owing to that which has passed over the earl himself. His spirit by intense[265] suffering has been purified, exalted23, refined. That respect which he once claimed on account of his rank is yielded readily on account of his character. Annabella had been disposed to ridicule24 a dignity that rested on an empty title; her spirit of opposition25 had been roused, and she had gloried in showing herself above the meanness of aristocratic pride, conscious of a loftier claim to the world’s regard than a coronet or a pedigree could give. But if the countess still knows herself to be superior to her husband in intellectual attainments26, in moral qualifications she now feels herself far his inferior. Annabella has a quick perception of character, an intuitive reverence27 for what is solid and real; when she sees beneficence free from ostentation28, purity of language and life adopted, not because the reverse would disgrace a peer, but because it would be unworthy of a Christian29, she renders the natural homage30 of an ingenuous31 heart to virtue32, and obedience18 and tender affection follow in the track of respect.
The conversation has taken a new turn. The earl and his wife have fallen into a train of discourse33 on some of the occurrences which have been related in preceding chapters. Annabella has now no concealment34 from her husband, and his gentleness invites her confidence.
“It appears, my love,” remarked Dashleigh, “that you quitted the home of the Bardons with scant37 ceremony and little courtesy.”
[266]
“He had deserved none,” replied Annabella, with something of her old haughtiness38 in her tone, for very bitter were the memories connected with Timon Bardon.
“There is but one man,” pursued the earl, “who, as far as I know, entertains any feeling of resentment39 against me, or has any just cause to do so. That man is Dr. Bardon.”
“It is you who have just cause for resentment against him,” said the countess.
“His pride and mine clashed together, and like the collision of flint and steel produced the angry spark which set his spirit in a flame. But, Annabella, I now desire to be at peace with all men. I have never returned the doctor’s visit,—you and I will do so to-day.”
Annabella opened her large eyes so wide at a proposition so unexpected, as to raise a smile on the lips of the earl.
“You think that I am still too proud to let the red liveries of the Dashleighs be seen at the door of Mill Cottage?”
“If you were to invade that little nest,” said the countess, “you would find that the birds had flown. Do you not remember that Dr. Bardon is now the proprietor40 of Nettleby Tower?”
“Ah! I recollect—by Auger’s will, was it not?” replied Dashleigh, raising his thin hand to his brow. “But this need make no difference in our arrangement[267] for a visit. We will order the carriage in the cool of the eve, and drive over to wish the old man and his daughter joy on their return to the family mansion41.”
Annabella turned upon her husband a look of admiration42 and love. She knew how much it must cost him to make the first step towards reconciliation43 with a man who had wronged, hated, and insulted him. Never, even in the earliest days of their union, had Dashleigh possessed44 such influence over the affections of his young wife, as he gained by the simple, unostentatious act which marked a conquest over Pride and self.
The sun was sloping towards the west, bathing earth and sky in the rich glory of his streaming rays, changing the clouds into floating islands of roses, and lighting45 up a little river which flowed through the landscape, till it glittered like a thread of gold, as Timon Bardon led a party of guests, comprising all the family of the Aumerles, to the summit of his grey old tower, to survey the extensive and beautiful prospect46.
Many a word of admiration was spoken as the vicar and his party moved from one spot to another, finding new beauties wherever they gazed. Cecilia, elegantly dressed as became the lady of the mansion, appeared in her glory, doing the honours of the place to her guests. If anything tended in the least degree to damp her delight, it was her perception[268] that the practical eye of Mrs. Aumerle (notwithstanding sundry47 improvements in the dwelling48 wrought49 out under Miss Bardon’s direction), had detected many an unsightly heap of rubbish, many an unfurnished and dreary50 chamber51, many a defaced cornice and broken pane52, at variance53 with the notions of comfort and neatness entertained by the vicar’s wife.
Ida and Mabel, who had more poetry in their nature than had fallen to the lot of Mrs. Aumerle, and who delighted in whatever recalled to their minds grand images of the days of chivalry54, saw in the marks of dilapidation55 but the footprints of ages gone by, and in imagination peopled the grass-grown court and the mouldering56 battlements with mailed knights57, bold archers58, and the fair maidens59 whose charms had been sung by minstrel and bard36 in the time of the old Plantagenets.
“That little grey dot yonder, is it not—” Mabel began, and paused, for Cecilia, whom she was addressing, looked as if she did not wish to see it.
“Yes, that is Mill Cottage,” said the doctor in a tone more loud and decided60 even than usual; “the place where the master of Nettleby Tower dug out his own potatoes in his garden, and the lady—”
“And that must be Dashleigh Hall,” interrupted Mabel, wishing to effect a diversion, for it was evident that while the doctor’s pride made him rather glory in his late poverty, that of Miss Bardon rendered her desirous to forget the days of her humiliation61.
[269]
But Mabel’s diversion was very ill-chosen. At the mention of the name “Dashleigh,” the doctor’s countenance62, which had been wearing an expression far more complacent63 than that habitual64 to his leonine features, changed to one dark and louring, the index of the gloomy passions that reigned65 within. Mabel saw not the change, for her eyes were fixed66 upon the distant prospect, but it was witnessed by Augustine and Ida, who exchanged glances with each other,—the gentle girl’s significant of regret, the uncle’s of indignation. “Is not the black drop wrung67 out from that proud heart yet?” was the mental comment of Augustine.
“Has not this house the repute of being haunted?” asked Ida, in order to turn the doctor’s thoughts into a different channel.
“Old women and young fools say that it is so still,” replied Timon Bardon gruffly.
“O! Papa,” lisped Cecilia, who had no inclination68 to acknowledge herself as coming under either of these denominations69, “you know what strange noises are heard every night!”
“Creaking of doors, cracking of old timber, the wind whistling away in the chimneys!”
“Well, I confess,” said Cecilia, with a little affected70 laugh, “that delightful71 as the tower is on a summer’s day like this, I shall not care to wander much through its long echoing corridors on a dark winter’s night. Mr. Aumerle,” she continued, addressing[270] Augustine, who was leaning on the stone parapet, and gazing down with an abstracted air, “you who know everything, do you know of no charm to lay the bad spirits that are said to haunt ancient houses?”
“I am afraid,” replied Augustine gravely, “that such spirits are wont72 to haunt new houses as well as old ones, and that it needs more knowledge than philosophy can teach to give us the power to lay them.”
Cecilia looked puzzled at the enigmatical reply, but before she had time to ask for a solution, Mabel interrupted the conversation by suddenly exclaiming, “Surely that is the Dashleigh’s carriage that has just turned the corner of the hill!”
“We have stayed long enough on this tower,” said the doctor, averting73 his eyes from the direction in which those of Mabel were turned; “let us descend74 to the court.”
His suggestion, which sounded like a command, was followed at once by his guests; poor Cecilia heaved a sigh at the thought that once she might have indulged a hope that the gay carriage with its dashing bays might be bound for Nettleby Tower. “After all that has happened,” she reflected sadly, “that is impossible now!”
The descent of the long winding75 stairs, whose steep, rude, age-worn steps were only dimly lighted by narrow slits76 cut here and there in the massive[271] stone wall, required both caution and time. Ere Bardon, who was the last of the party, had emerged from the low-browed door which opened into the courtyard, the bridge across the moat had been crossed, and the Earl and Countess of Dashleigh were already exchanging kindly77 greetings with the foremost of the Aumerles.
The stern old doctor was more startled by the unexpected appearance at his threshold of visitors such as these, than he could have been by any apparition78 in his old haunted tower. Mingled79 feelings of surprise, shame, remorse80, and gratified pride struggled together in his bosom81, as his eye met that of the nobleman from whose house he had turned with emotions of such vindictive82 wrath—words of such fiery83 passion! Had Bardon’s newly recovered estate depended upon his making such an effort, the proud man could not have bowed his spirit to the humiliation of visiting the earl; and yet the nobleman had come to him,—to him who had so meanly, so cruelly avenged84 one slighting sentence accidentally overheard!
Dashleigh saw the surprise, the embarrassment85 written on the face of the haughty86 Bardon,—he felt the delicacy87 of his own position, and resolutely89 breaking through what would once have been the inseparable barrier of reserve, he advanced two or three steps towards the doctor, and while a painful flush mantled90 over his wasted features, frankly91 held[272] out his hand. That hand was grasped—was wrung—but in silence; the proud man felt himself conquered; and from that hour the evil spirit of enmity between the two opponents was laid for ever!
Can I add that the dark tyrant92 Pride had for ever yielded up his empire, that he never again whispered his evil suggestions to those who so long had worn his chain?
Alas93! I dare not thus violate probability, or sacrifice the great truth of which this fiction is the fanciful vehicle. The contest against Pride is a life-long campaign. From the time when he breathed ambition to Eve in the words, Ye shall be as gods, or roused in the heart of the first murderer the hatred94 which stained his hand with the blood of a more favoured brother, the influence of pride over our fallen race has been fearful, too often fatal! I have but sketched95 him in some of his forms,—of how many have I not even attempted to trace the outline! Pride of purse, Pride of person, family Pride, national Pride, the Pride that draws the trigger of the duellist96, that tightens97 the grasp of the oppressor, and, perhaps worst of all, spiritual Pride, which brings Satan before even the saintly in the guise98 of an angel of light! Let some more powerful pencil draw these, till conscience start at the portrait of the demon99 who seeks the house that is cleansed100 and garnished101, nor comes alone, but brings with him[273] ambition, dissension, jealousy102, hatred, and other dark ministers of death.
Reader! have you recognised Pride as an evil, have you struggled with him as a foe103? Look to your soul and see if it bear not the mark of his galling104 chain. If the fetter105 be on it still, oh! with the strength of faith and the energy of prayer, burst it, even as Samson burst the green withes with which a secret enemy had bound him! Or, to change the metaphor106, if you feel the proud spirit within, like the inflated107 sphere of the ?ronaut, ready to bear you aloft to a cloudy and perilous108 height, whence you will look down on your fellow-creatures, stop not to dally110 with danger, persuade not yourself that the peril109 is unreal, but resolute88 as one who knows that life and more than life is at stake, clip the soaring wing of the Eaglet,—cut the cords of your balloon!
Proud,—and of what? poor, vain, and helpless worm,
Crawling in weakness through thy life’s brief term,
Yet filled with thoughts presumptuous111, bold, and high,
As though thy grovelling112 soul could scan the sky,—
As though thy wisdom, which cannot foreshow
Could pierce the depths of far futurity,
Art proud of riches? of the glittering dust
Each day may rob thee of, and one day must;
When mines of wealth will purchase no delay,
When dust to dust must turn, and clay to clay,
Save one dark cell in earth’s unconscious breast?
Or proud of power? on this little ball
Some fellow-mortals, bending lowly down,
[274]
Great in the world’s eyes, in thine own more great,
And art thou great? lift up—lift up thine eyes,
Survey the heavens, gaze into the skies;
View the fair worlds that glitter o’er thy head,
Beyond the reach of sight, the power of thought:—
Then turn thy gaze to earth, and thou art—nought?
The globe itself a speck—an atom; thou—
In one thing only thou mayst glory still,
Glory in this,—and what is all beside,
That for this worm, this atom,—Jesus died.
Does conscious genius fire thy haughty mind,
Genius that raises man above his kind,—
The lofty soul that soars on wing of fire,
Oh! while the charmed world pays her homage just.
Remember, every talent is a trust,
If thou that precious talent misapply
To spread the power of infidelity,
How blest—how great compared to thee—that man
Whose life obscurely ends as it began.
Save that, of all most high,—that guides to heaven
Far as the sun’s pure radiance, streaming bright,
Transcends126 the glow-worm’s dim and fading light,
The wisdom to his soul vouchsafed127 from high
Exceeds the earth-born fires that flash—and die!
Oh! where shall pride securely harbour then,
Where urge his claims to rule the minds of men?
Blest Eden knew him not,—where all was fair—
The glorious angels are above his sway,
We, only we, poor children of a day,
And wear with pride the chains our Surety burst!
Would that the world could know and truly prize
That which is great in the Creator’s eyes!
Who, with God’s presence blest, desires no more,
Who feels his sins—his weakness,—though his ways
Be just and pure beyond all human praise;
[275]
“Have mercy upon me, a sinner, Lord!”
Who, heir of an eternal, heavenly throne,
Rests all his hopes on Christ, and Christ alone!
Wisest of men—for he alone is wise.—
Richest of men—secure his treasure lies.—
Greatest of men—his mansion is on high.
His father—God,—his rest—Eternity!
The End
The End
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1
repentant
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| adj.对…感到悔恨的 | |
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fervid
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| adj.热情的；炽热的 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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fig
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| n.无花果(树) | |
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ripening
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
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mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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confinement
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| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
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13
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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14
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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15
perusing
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的现在分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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16
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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17
outweighs
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| v.在重量上超过( outweigh的第三人称单数 )；在重要性或价值方面超过 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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exalt
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| v.赞扬，歌颂，晋升，提升 | |
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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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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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attainments
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| 成就，造诣； 获得( attainment的名词复数 )； 达到； 造诣； 成就 | |
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27
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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ostentation
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| n.夸耀，卖弄 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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bard
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| n.吟游诗人 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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haughtiness
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| n.傲慢；傲气 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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41
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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42
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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52
pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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variance
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| n.矛盾，不同 | |
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chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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dilapidation
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| n.倒塌；毁坏 | |
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mouldering
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| v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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knights
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| 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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58
archers
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| n.弓箭手，射箭运动员( archer的名词复数 ) | |
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59
maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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60
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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61
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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62
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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63
complacent
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| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
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64
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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65
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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66
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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67
wrung
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| 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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68
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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69
denominations
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| n.宗派( denomination的名词复数 )；教派；面额；名称 | |
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70
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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71
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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72
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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73
averting
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| 防止，避免( avert的现在分词 )； 转移 | |
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74
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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75
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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76
slits
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| n.狭长的口子，裂缝( slit的名词复数 )v.切开，撕开( slit的第三人称单数 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
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77
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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78
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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79
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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80
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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81
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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82
vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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83
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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84
avenged
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| v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 )；为…报复 | |
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85
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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86
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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87
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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88
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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89
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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90
mantled
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| 披着斗篷的，覆盖着的 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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93
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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95
sketched
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| v.草拟（sketch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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96
duellist
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| n.决斗者；[体]重剑运动员 | |
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97
tightens
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| 收紧( tighten的第三人称单数 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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99
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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100
cleansed
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| 弄干净，清洗( cleanse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
garnished
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| v.给（上餐桌的食物）加装饰( garnish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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102
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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103
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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104
galling
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| adj.难堪的,使烦恼的,使焦躁的 | |
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105
fetter
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| n./vt.脚镣，束缚 | |
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106
metaphor
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| n.隐喻，暗喻 | |
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107
inflated
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| adj.（价格）飞涨的；（通货）膨胀的；言过其实的；充了气的v.使充气（于轮胎、气球等）( inflate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）膨胀；（使）通货膨胀；物价上涨 | |
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108
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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109
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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110
dally
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| v.荒废(时日)，调情 | |
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111
presumptuous
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| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
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112
grovelling
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| adj.卑下的，奴颜婢膝的v.卑躬屈节，奴颜婢膝( grovel的现在分词 )；趴 | |
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113
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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114
shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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115
nought
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| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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116
bask
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| vt.取暖，晒太阳，沐浴于 | |
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117
swells
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| 增强( swell的第三人称单数 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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118
orb
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| n.太阳；星球；v.弄圆；成球形 | |
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119
exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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120
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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121
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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122
strew
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| vt.撒；使散落；撒在…上，散布于 | |
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123
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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124
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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125
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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126
transcends
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| 超出或超越（经验、信念、描写能力等）的范围( transcend的第三人称单数 )； 优于或胜过… | |
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127
vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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128
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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129
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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130
haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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131
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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132
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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