"In time!" she said again, when she and her companion were once more in the open air. She said it to break the pensive1 silence, during which she had felt her heart sink, like a stone cast into dark waters. She spoke2 again suddenly:
"Stelio, do you know that closed house in the Calle Gambara?"
"No—which house?"
"The house of the Countess of Glanegg."
"No, I don't know it."
"Do you not know the story of the beautiful Austrian?"
"No, Fosca. Tell it to me."
"Will you go with me as far as the Calle Gambara; it is only a short distance?"
"Yes, I will go."
They walked along, side by side, toward the closed mansion3. Stelio fell back a step, that he might observe the actress, that he might behold4 her grace as she walked in that warm, dead air. With his ardent5 gaze he seemed to embrace her whole person: the line of her shoulders sloping with noble grace, the free and pliant6 waist on the strong hips7, the knees that moved lightly among the folds of her robe, and that pale, passionate8 face, those eloquent9 lips, that brow, lofty and beautiful as that of a man, the fringe of dark lashes10 over the elongated11 eyes, that sometimes were clouded over, as if tears rose to them and remained unshed—the whole passionate face full of lights and shadows, love and sadness, feverish12 force and quivering life.
"I love you! I love you! You alone please me! Everything about you pleases me!" he said to her suddenly, whispering the words close to her cheek. He was now walking so close as almost to press against her, as he accommodated his step to hers, his arm passed under her arm. He could not bear to know that she was seized with startled anguish13 at those terrible warning words.
"My friend!" she said, in a tone so faint that the two words seemed modulated16 less by her lips than by the rare smile of her spirit.
Her sudden sadness melted away, changed into a wave of tenderness that poured in a lavish17 flood over her friend. Her unbounded gratitude18 inspired her with an eager desire to find some great gift for him.
"Tell me, Stelio, what can I do for thee?"
She imagined some marvelous test, some unheard-of proof of love. "Let me serve! Let me serve!" cried her heart. She yearned20 to own the whole earth, that she might offer it to him.
"What dost thou wish? Tell me—what can I do for thee?"
"Love me—only love me!"
"Poor friend, my love is sad."
"It is perfect; it crowns my life."
"But you are young."
"I love you!"
"You should possess one with strength equal to your own."
"But it is you, and only you, that each day increases my strength and exalts21 my hope. My blood runs quicker when I am near you in your mystic silence. At those times things are born in my brain that in time you will marvel19 to see. You are necessary to me."
"Do not say that!"
"Each day you confirm me in the assurance that all promises made to me will be kept."
"Yes, you will have your own beautiful destiny. For you I have no fear; you are sure of yourself. No peril22 can surprise you, no obstacle can impede23 your progress. Oh, to be able to love without fear! One always fears when one loves. It is not for you that I fear. You seem to me invincible24. I thank you for that also."
She showed him her faith, deep as her passion, lucid25 and unlimited26. For a long time, even in the heat of her own struggles and the vicissitudes27 of her wandering life, she had kept her eyes fixed28 on this young, victorious29 existence, as on an ideal form born of the purification of her own desire. More than once, in the sadness of vain loves and the nobility of the prohibition30 imposed between them, she had thought: "Ah, if, some day, from all my courage, hardened in many storms, from all the strong, clear things that grief and revolt have revealed in the depths of my soul, from the best of myself, I could fashion for thee the wings that shall bear thee upward in thy last supreme31 flight!" More than once, her melancholy32 had been dissipated in a heroic presentiment33. And then she had subjected her soul to restraint, had raised it to the highest plane of moral beauty that she could, had guided it in paths of purity, solely34 to merit that for which she hoped and feared at once—to be worthy35 of offering her servitude to him who was so impatient to conquer the world.
And now a sudden violent shock of Fate had thrown her before him in the guise36 of a mere37 weak woman, overcome by earthly passion. She had united herself to him by the closest tie; she had watched him at dawn, sleeping; she had had sudden awakenings, alarmed by cruel fear, and had found it impossible to close her tired eyes again, lest he should gaze on her while she slept, and see in her face the lines of care and years.
"Nothing is worth the inspiration you give me," said Stelio, pressing her arm close and seeking her soft wrist under her glove, urged by a longing38 to feel the pulsation39 of that devoted40 life. "Nothing is worth the assurance that nevermore until death shall I be alone."
"Ah, you too feel that, do you—that it is forever?" she cried in a transport of joy at seeing the triumph of her love. "Yes, forever, Stelio—whatever happens, wherever your destiny may lead you, in whatever way you wish me to serve you, either near you or afar...."
In the misty41 air rose a confused and monotonous42 sound, which La Foscarina recognized as the chorus of sparrows gathered among the dying trees in the garden of the Countess of Glanegg. The words died on her lips; she made an instinctive43 movement as if to turn back and to draw her companion with her.
"Where are we going?" Stelio asked, surprised at her sudden movement, and at the unforeseen interruption, that came like a burst of magic music.
She stopped, smiling her faint smile that showed her heart was aching. ("IN TIME!")
"I wished to escape," she replied, "but I cannot."
She looked like a pale flame, as she stood there.
"I had forgotten, Stelio, that I was to take you to the closed house."
Like one lost in a desert, she stood there, helpless, under the gray sky.
"It seemed to me that we were to go somewhere else. But we are already here. 'In time'!"
She appeared to him now as she had in that memorable44 night, when she had said "Do not be cruel, Stelio!" Clothed in her sweet, tender soul she stood there, so easy to kill, to destroy, to immolate45 in a bloodless sacrifice.
"Come away—let us go," he said, trying to lead her with him. "Let us go somewhere else."
"I cannot."
"Let us go home—let us go to your house; we will light a fire, the first fire of October. Let me pass this evening with you, Foscarina. It will rain soon. It would be so sweet to sit in your room and talk, or be silent, hand-in-hand. Come! Let us go."
He would have liked to take her in his arms, to nurse her, soothe46 her, charm away her sadness. The sweetness of his own words augmented47 his tenderness. Of all her lovable person, he loved most fondly the delicate little lines that radiated from the corners of her eyes to her temples, the little purple veins48 that made her eyelids look like violets, the curve of her cheeks, the pointed49 chin, and all that seemed touched by the finger of Autumn, every shadow that overspread that passionate face.
"Foscarina! Foscarina!"
Whenever he called her by her real name, his heart beat faster, as if something more deeply human had entered into his love, as if suddenly her whole past had seized once more the figure he was pleased to isolate50 in his dream, and as if innumerable threads formed a bond uniting it more closely than ever to implacable life.
"Come! Let us go!"
"But why? The house is very near. Let us pass it by the Calle Gambara. Do you not wish to know the story of the Countess of Glanegg? Look! One would think it a convent."
The street was deserted52 as the path leading to a hermitage; it was gray, damp, strewn with dead leaves. The east wind had brought a light, warm mist that softened53 all sounds.
"Behind those walls, a desolate54 soul survives the beauty of its body," said La Foscarina softly. "Look! The windows are closed, the blinds are nailed, the doors are sealed. Only one door is still open for the servants, and through it they carry the dead woman her nourishment55, though she is walled up as if in an Egyptian tomb. The servants feed a body that no longer has the spirit of life."
The naked trees, which rose to the top of the cloister-like enclosure, looked almost smoky in the mist; the sparrows, more numerous than the leaves, twittered incessantly56.
"Guess the Countess's name, Stelio. It is beautiful and rare—as beautiful as if you had originated it."
"I do not know."
"Radiana! The prisoner is called Radiana."
"But whose prisoner is she?"
"The prisoner of Time, Stelio. Time stands on guard at her door, with his scythe57 and hour-glass, as she is shown in old prints."
"Are you trying to describe an allegory?"
A boy passed, whistling. When he saw the two strangers looking at the closed windows, he stopped to gaze too, his large eyes full of curiosity and astonishment58. They were silent. Presently the little boy grew tired of staring; nothing interesting could be seen; the windows were not opened; everything was motionless, so he ran away. They heard the flight of his little bare feet on the wet stones and rotting leaves.
"Well," said Stelio, "and what did Radiana do? You have not yet told me who is this woman, nor the reason why she is a recluse59. Tell me her story. I have already been thinking of Soranza Soranzo."
"The Countess Glanegg is one of the greatest ladies of the aristocratic Viennese world, and perhaps the most beautiful I ever have seen. Franz Lenbach has painted her in the armor of the Valkyries, with the four-winged helmet. Have you ever visited his red studio in the Palazzo Borghese?"
"No, never."
"Go there some day, and ask him to show you that portrait. You will see it unchanged, as I see it now through all those walls. She has wished to remain like that in the memory of those that saw her in the splendor60 of her beauty. One day, when the sun shone too bright, she saw that the time had come for that beauty to fade, and she resolved to take leave of the world in such a way that men should not be witnesses of the decay and destruction of her famous beauty. Perhaps it was her sympathy with things that disintegrate61 and fall in ruins that has kept her in Venice. She gave a magnificent farewell banquet, where she appeared, still sovereignly beautiful; then she withdrew forever from the world to this house that you see, in this walled garden, where, alone with her servants, she awaits the end. She has become a legendary62 figure. They say that there are no mirrors in her house, and that she has forgotten her own face. She has forbidden even her most devoted friends and her nearest relatives to visit her. How does she live? What are her thoughts? By what means does she wile63 away the time of waiting? Is her soul in a state of grace?"
Every pause in that veiled voice questioning the mystery was filled with deepest melancholy.
"Does she pray? Does she contemplate64? Does she weep? Or, perhaps, has she become inert65, and suffers no more than a withered66 apple in the back of some old closet."
"What if she should suddenly show herself at that window?" said Stelio, feeling something like a real sensation, as he fancied he heard a creaking hinge.
Both looked closely at the nailed blinds.
"Perhaps she is sitting behind them, looking at us," he added, in a half whisper.
They were leaning against a wall facing the house, and did not wish to move a step. The encircling inertia68 affected69 them, the smoke-like mist enveloped70 them more and more thickly; the chatter71 of the birds lulled72 their senses as a drug given to feverish patients. The siren whistles pierced the air from afar. The brown leaves dropped from the trees. How long it took for a floating leaf to reach the earth! All around them was mist, heaviness, slow consumption, ashes.
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1
pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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3
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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pliant
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| adj.顺从的；可弯曲的 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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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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9
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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11
elongated
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| v.延长，加长( elongate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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13
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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modulated
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| 已调整[制]的，被调的 | |
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lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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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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20
yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exalts
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| 赞扬( exalt的第三人称单数 )； 歌颂； 提升； 提拔 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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impede
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| v.妨碍，阻碍，阻止 | |
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invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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lucid
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| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
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26
unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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27
vicissitudes
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| n.变迁，世事变化；变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 )；盛衰兴废 | |
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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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29
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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30
prohibition
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| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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38
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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pulsation
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| n.脉搏，悸动，脉动；搏动性 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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41
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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42
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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43
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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44
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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45
immolate
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| v.牺牲 | |
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46
soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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47
Augmented
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| adj.增音的 动词augment的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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48
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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49
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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50
isolate
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| vt.使孤立，隔离 | |
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51
pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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52
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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53
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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54
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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55
nourishment
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| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
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56
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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57
scythe
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| n. 长柄的大镰刀，战车镰； v. 以大镰刀割 | |
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58
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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59
recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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60
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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61
disintegrate
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| v.瓦解，解体，（使）碎裂，（使）粉碎 | |
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62
legendary
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| adj.传奇（中）的，闻名遐迩的；n.传奇（文学） | |
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wile
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| v.诡计，引诱；n.欺骗，欺诈 | |
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64
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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65
inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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66
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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67
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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68
inertia
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| adj.惰性，惯性，懒惰，迟钝 | |
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69
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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70
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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72
lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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