"Ah, Stelio!" exclaimed the actress, rising with a start and hastening toward him impetuously, with all the spring of her eagerness that had been repressed by expectation. "At last!"
She stopped before him suddenly, without touching5 him. The swift impulse vibrated in her visibly. She was like a wind when it falls. "Who has detained you from me?" was her thought, while her heart was filled with doubt; for in one instant she had discerned something about the beloved one that rendered him intangible to her—something strange and far-away in his eyes.
But he had found her most beautiful at the very moment when she sprang from the shadows, animated6 by a violence like that of the tempest sweeping7 the lagoons8. The cry, the gesture, the sudden halt, the vibration9 of her body, the light in her countenance10 suddenly extinguished like a fire fallen to ashes, the intensity11 of her gaze, like the glow of battle, the breath that parted her lips as heat breaks open the lips of the earth—all these aspects of her real self showed a capability12 of pathos13 comparable only to the effervescence of natural energies, the power of cosmic force. The artist recognized in her the Dionysian creature, the living material, apt for receiving the rhythms of art, to be modeled according to poetic14 forms. And, because he saw her character as varying as the waves of the sea, he found inert15 the blind mask he thought to put on her face; the tragic16 fable17 through which she was to pass in sadness seemed narrow, and too limited was the order of sentiment whence she should draw her expressions, almost subterranean18 the soul she must reveal. His mental images were seized with a sort of panic, a fleeting19 terror. What could be that single work in the immensity of life? ?schylus composed more than a hundred tragedies, Sophocles still more. They had constructed a world with gigantic fragments lifted by their titanic20 arms. Their labor21 was as vast as a cosmogony. The ?schylian figures seemed still warm with ethereal life, shining with sidereal22 light, humid from the fertilizing23 cloud. The spirit of the Earth worked in the creators.
"Hide me, hide me! Do not ask me anything, and let me be silent!" he implored24, incapable25 of concealing26 his perturbation, powerless to control the tumult27 of his disordered thoughts.
The woman's heart beat fast in the ignorance of fear.
"Why? What have you done?"
"I suffer."
"From what?"
"Anxiety, anxiety—from that trouble of mine which you know well."
She clasped him in her arms. He felt that she was trembling in doubt.
"Are you mine—are you still mine?" she asked, in a stifled28 voice, her lips pressed to his shoulder.
"Yes—always yours."
This woman always suffered a horrible fear every time she saw him depart from her, every time she saw him return. When he went, was it not toward the unknown betrothed29? When he returned, was it not to bid her a last farewell?
She clasped him in her arms with the fondness of a lover, a sister, a mother—with all human love.
"What can I do for you? Tell me!"
A continual need tormented30 her to offer, to serve, to obey a command that urged her toward peril31, toward a struggle to seize some good that she might bring to him.
"What can I give you?"
"What do you wish? Ah, I know!"
"You wish for everything, do you not? You desire everything?"
"Ah, if I only could! But no one in the world can give you anything of any value, dearest friend. Your poetry and your music—they alone can demand everything. I remember that ode of yours beginning 'I was Pan.'"
He leaned against the faithful heart his head now filled with the light of beautiful thoughts.
"'I was Pan.'"
"Have you seen your sea to-day? Did you see the storm?"
He shook his head, without speaking.
"Was it a great storm? One day you told me that you have many mariners38 among your forefathers39. Have you been thinking to-day of your home on the dunes40? Are you homesick for the sand? Do you wish to go back there? You have worked a great deal there, and have done great work. It is a consecrated41 house. Your mother was with you while you worked. You could hear her stepping softly in the next room. Sometimes she stopped to listen, did she not?"
He embraced her silently. That voice penetrated42 his very soul, and refreshed it.
"And your sister was with you, too? You told me her name once, and I have not forgotten it. She is called Sofia. I know that she is like you. I should like to hear her speak once, or to watch her walking along the road. Once you praised her hands. They are beautiful, are they not? You told me one day that when she is sad her hands hurt her, as if they were the roots of her soul. That is what you said—'the roots of her soul.'"
He listened, almost happy. How had she discovered the secret of soothing43 him, the balm for his soul? From what hidden spring did she draw the fluid melody of those memories?
"Sofia never will know the good she has done to the poor traveler. I know little of Sofia herself, but I know that she resembles you, and I have often pictured her to myself. I can see her at this moment. When I have been in distant countries, far-away among strangers, feeling almost lost, she has appeared to me often, and borne me company. She has appeared to me suddenly, when I had neither called nor expected her. Once I saw her at Mürren, where I had arrived after a long, weary journey, made in order to see a poor friend who was at the point of death. Day was breaking; the mountains had that cold, delicate color of beryl that is seen only among glaciers44. Why did she come? We waited, together. The sun touched the summits of the mountains. Then a brilliant rainbow crowned them for a moment, then vanished. And Sofia vanished with the rainbow, with the miracle."
He listened, almost happy. Were not all the beauty and all the truth that he himself would like to express contained in a stone, or in a flower of those mountains? The most tragic struggle of human passions was not worth the apparition45 of that mystic light upon the eternal snows.
"And another time?" he asked softly, for the pause was long, and he feared that she would not continue. She smiled, then looked sad.
"Another time I was at Alexandria in Egypt, in a time of confused horror, as if after a shipwreck46. The city had an aspect of putrefaction47, like a city in decay. I remember: a street full of muddy water; a white horse, thin as a skeleton, that splashed in the water, its mane and tail of an ochre color; the turrets48 of an Arabian cemetery49, the far-away gleam of the marsh50 of Mareotis. What misery51! What disgust!"
"Oh, dear soul, never, never again shall you be left alone and despairing," said Stelio in his heart, now filled with fraternal tenderness for the nomad52 woman who recalled the sadness of her continual wanderings.
"And another time?" he said aloud.
"Another time it was in Vienna, in a museum. There was a great, empty hall, the rain whipped against the windows; innumerable precious relics53 were there in crystal cases; the signs of death were everywhere, exiled things no longer prayed to or adored. Together Sofia and I leaned over a case containing a collection of holy arms, with their metal hands fixed54 in an immovable gesture. There were martyr's hands sown with agates55, amethysts56, topaz, garnets, and pale turquoises57. Through certain openings, splinters of bone were visible. One hand held a golden lily, another a miniature city, another clasped a column. One was smaller than the others; it had a ring on every finger, and held a vase full of ointment58: the relics of Mary Magdalene. Exiled things, become profane59, no longer prayed to or adored. Is Sofia devout60? Has she the habit of prayer?"
He did not reply. He felt that he should not speak, nor give any visible sign of his own life in the enchantment61 of that distant life.
"Sometimes your sister used to enter your room while you were at work, and lay a blade of grass on the page newly begun."
The enchantress trembled; a veiled image seemed to be suddenly revealing itself.—Do you know that I began to love her—the girl that sings, the girl whom you cannot have forgotten—because I thought of your sister? Yes—in order to pour into a pure soul the tenderness my soul wished to offer to your sister, from whom so many cruel things separated me! Do you know that?—
Those words quivered with life, but they were not spoken; yet the voice trembled at their mute presence.
"Then you would grant yourself a few moments of rest. You went to the window with her, and both gazed out upon the sea. A plowman drove his young oxen over the sand to teach them a straight furrow62. When they were finally taught, they no longer plowed63 the sand, but went up on the hill. Who has told me these things?"
He himself had told her once, almost in the same words, but now these memories came back like unexpected visions.
"Then flocks of sheep passed along the shore; they came from the mountains, and were on the way to the plains of the Puglia. All was still; a golden silence covered the shore. Later, you went with your sister, and followed the tracks left by the sheep along the wet sand.... Who has told me all these things?"
"Then sudden storms sprang up; the sea sometimes overflowed66 the dunes and the land, leaving foam67 on juniper and tamarisk trees, on myrtle and rosemary. Heaps of seaweed and jetsam would be thrown on the beach. A boat had been wrecked68 somewhere. The sea brought firewood to the poor, and mourning to heaven knows whom! The beach would be thronged69 with people, each trying to collect the largest bundle of wood. Then your sister would bring other aid—bread, wine, vegetables, linen70. Blessings71 would rise louder than the noise of the waves. You looked out of the window, and thought that none of your beautiful images was worth the odor of warm bread. You left the half-finished page, and hurried to help Sofia, speaking to the women, the children and the old men.... Who has told me all these things?"
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1
galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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2
gondola
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| n.威尼斯的平底轻舟；飞船的吊船 | |
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3
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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6
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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7
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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8
lagoons
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| n.污水池( lagoon的名词复数 )；潟湖；（大湖或江河附近的）小而浅的淡水湖；温泉形成的池塘 | |
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9
vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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10
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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12
capability
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| n.能力；才能；(pl)可发展的能力或特性等 | |
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13
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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14
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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15
inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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16
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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subterranean
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| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
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19
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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20
titanic
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| adj.巨人的，庞大的，强大的 | |
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21
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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22
sidereal
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| adj.恒星的 | |
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23
fertilizing
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| v.施肥( fertilize的现在分词 ) | |
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24
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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25
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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26
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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27
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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28
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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29
betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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30
tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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31
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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32
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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33
caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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34
ailing
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| v.生病 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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36
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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37
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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38
mariners
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| 海员，水手（mariner的复数形式） | |
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39
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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40
dunes
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| 沙丘( dune的名词复数 ) | |
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41
consecrated
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| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
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42
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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43
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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44
glaciers
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| 冰河，冰川( glacier的名词复数 ) | |
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45
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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46
shipwreck
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| n.船舶失事，海难 | |
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47
putrefaction
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| n.腐坏，腐败 | |
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48
turrets
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| （六角）转台( turret的名词复数 )； （战舰和坦克等上的）转动炮塔； （摄影机等上的）镜头转台； （旧时攻城用的）塔车 | |
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49
cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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50
marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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51
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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52
nomad
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| n.游牧部落的人，流浪者，游牧民 | |
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53
relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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54
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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55
agates
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| n.玛瑙( agate的名词复数 )；玛瑙制（或装有玛瑙的）工具； （小孩玩的）玛瑙纹玩具弹子；5。5磅铅字 | |
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56
amethysts
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| n.紫蓝色宝石( amethyst的名词复数 )；紫晶；紫水晶；紫色 | |
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57
turquoises
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| n.绿松石( turquoise的名词复数 )；青绿色 | |
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58
ointment
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| n.药膏，油膏，软膏 | |
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59
profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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60
devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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61
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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62
furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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63
plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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64
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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65
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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66
overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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67
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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68
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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69
thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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70
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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71
blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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