To-day the gale1 had blown itself out; all yesterday it blustered2 round corners, shook casements3, thundered in the chimneys, and roared in the pines. Now it is bright and fresh, and the steady wind is routing one by one the few clouds that hang in the sky. I came in yesterday at dusk, and the whole heaven was full of great ragged4, lowering storm-wreaths, weeping wildly and sadly; now the rain is over, though in the morning a sudden dash of great drops mingled5 with hail made the windows patter; but the sun shone out very low and white from the clouds, even while the hail leapt on the window-sill.
I took the field-path that wanders aimlessly away below the house; the water lay in the grass, and the sodden6 leaves had a bitter smell. The copses were very bare, and the stream ran hoarse7 and turbid8. The way wound by fallows and hedges—now threading a steep copse, now along the silent water-meadows, now[162] through an open forest space, with faggots tied and piled, or by a cattle byre. Here and there I turned into a country lane, till at last the village of Spyfield lay before me, with the ancient church of dark sandstone and the little street of handsome Georgian houses, very neat and prim—a place, you would think, where every one went to bed at ten, and where no murmurs10 of wars ever penetrated11.
Just beyond the village, my friend, Mr. Campden, the great artist, has built himself a palace. It is somewhat rococo12, no doubt, with its marble terrace and its gilded13 cupolas. But it gleams in the dark hanging wood with an exotic beauty of its own, as if a Genie14 had uprooted15 it from a Tuscan slope, and planted it swiftly, in an unfamiliar16 world, in an hour of breathless labour between the twilight17 and the dawn. Still, fantastic as it is, it is an agreeable contrast to the brick-built mansions18, with their slated19 turrets20, that have lately, alas21, begun to alight in our woodlands.
Mr. Campden
Mr. Campden is a real prince, a Lorenzo the Magnificent; not only is he the painter of pictures which command a high price, though to me they are little more than harmonious22 wallpaper; but he binds23 books, makes furniture,[163] weaves tapestry24, and even bakes tiles and pottery25; and the slender minaret26 that rises from a plain, windowless building on the right, is nothing but a concealed27 chimney. Moreover, he inherited through a relative’s death an immense fortune, so that he is a millionaire as well. To-day I followed the little steep lane that skirts his domain28, and halted for a moment at a great grille of ironwork, which gives the passer-by a romantic and generous glimpse of a pleached alley29, terminated by a mysterious leaden statue. I peeped in cautiously, and saw the great man in a blue suit, with a fur cloak thrown round his shoulders, a slouched hat set back from his forehead, and a loose red tie gleaming from his low-cut collar. I was near enough to see his wavy30 white hair and beard, his keen eyes, his thin hands, as he paced delicately about, breathing the air, and looking critically at the exquisite31 house beyond him. I am sure of a welcome from Mr. Campden—indeed, he has a princely welcome for all the world—but to-day I felt a certain simple schoolboy shyness, which ill accords with Mr. Campden’s Venetian manner. It is delightful32 after long rusticity33 to be with him, but it is like taking a part in some solemn and affected[164] dance; to Mr. Campden I am the student-recluse, and to be gracefully35 bantered36 accordingly, and asked a series of questions on matters with which I am wholly unacquainted, but which are all part of the setting with which his pictorial37 mind has dowered me. On my first visit to him I spoke38 of the field-names of the neighbourhood, and so Mr. Campden speaks to me of Domesday Book, which I have never seen. I happened to express—in sheer wantonness—an interest in strange birds, and I have ever since to Mr. Campden been a man who, in the intervals39 of reading Domesday Book, stands in all weathers on hilltops, or by reedy stream-ends, watching for eagles and swans, like a Roman augur40—indeed Augur is the name he gives me—our dear Augur—when I am introduced to his great friends.
Mr. Campden has an infinite contempt for the gentlemen of the neighbourhood, whom he treats with splendid courtesy, and the kind of patronising amusement with which one listens to the prattle41 of a rustic34 child. It is a matter of unceasing merriment to me to see him with a young squire42 of the neighbourhood, an intelligent young fellow who has travelled a good deal, and is a considerable reader. He[165] has a certain superficial shyness, and consequently has never been able to secure enough of the talk for himself to show Mr. Campden what he is thinking of; and Mr. Campden at once boards him with questions about the price of eggs and the rotation43 of crops, calling him, “Will Honeycomb” from the Spectator; and when plied44 with nervous questions as to Perugino or Carlo Dolce, saying grandiloquently45, “My dear young man, I know nothing whatever about it; I leave that to the critics. I am a republican in art, a red indeed, ha, ha! And you and I must not concern ourselves with such things. Here we are in the country, and we must talk of bullocks. Tell me now, in Lorton market last week, what price did a Tegg fetch?”
Mr. Campden is extraordinarily46 ignorant of all country matters, and has a small stock of ancient provincial47 words, not indigenous48 to the neighbourhood, but gathered from local histories, that he produces with complacent49 pride. Indeed, I do not know that I ever saw a more ludicrous scene than Mr. Campden talking agriculture to a distinguished50 scientific man, whom a neighbouring squire had brought over to tea with him, and whom he took for a landowner.[166] To hear Mr. Campden explaining a subject with which he was not acquainted to a courteous51 scientist, who did not even know to what he was alluding52, was a sight to make angels laugh.
But to-day I let Mr. Campden pace like a peacock up and down his pleasaunces, with his greyhound following him, and threaded the water-meadows homewards. I gave myself up to the luxurious53 influences of solitude54 and cool airs, and walked slowly, indifferent where I went, by sandstone pits, by brimming streams, through dripping coverts55, till the day declined. What did I think of? I hardly dare confess. There are two or three ludicrous, pitiful ambitions that lurk56 in the corners of my mind, which, when I am alone and aimless, I take out and hold, as a child holds a doll, while fancy invests them with radiant hues57. These and no other were my mental pabulum. I know they cannot be realised—indeed, I do not desire them—but these odd and dusty fancies remain with me from far-off boyish days; and many a time have I thus paraded them in all their silliness.
Home
But the hedgerow grasses grew indistinguishably grey; the cattle splashed home along[167] the road; the sharp smell of wood smoke from cottage fires, piled for the long evenings, stole down the woodways; pheasants muttered and crowed in the coverts, and sprang clanging to their roosts. The murmur9 of the stream became louder and more insistent58; and as I turned the corner of the wood, it was with a glow of pleasure that I saw the sober gables of Golden End, and the hall window, like a red solemn eye, gaze cheerily upon the misty59 valley.
点击收听单词发音
1 gale | |
n.大风,强风,一阵闹声(尤指笑声等) | |
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2 blustered | |
v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的过去式和过去分词 );咆哮;(风)呼啸;狂吹 | |
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3 casements | |
n.窗扉( casement的名词复数 ) | |
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4 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
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5 mingled | |
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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6 sodden | |
adj.浑身湿透的;v.使浸透;使呆头呆脑 | |
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7 hoarse | |
adj.嘶哑的,沙哑的 | |
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8 turbid | |
adj.混浊的,泥水的,浓的 | |
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9 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
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10 murmurs | |
n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 );低语声;怨言;嘀咕 | |
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11 penetrated | |
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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12 rococo | |
n.洛可可;adj.过分修饰的 | |
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13 gilded | |
a.镀金的,富有的 | |
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14 genie | |
n.妖怪,神怪 | |
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15 uprooted | |
v.把(某物)连根拔起( uproot的过去式和过去分词 );根除;赶走;把…赶出家园 | |
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16 unfamiliar | |
adj.陌生的,不熟悉的 | |
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17 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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18 mansions | |
n.宅第,公馆,大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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19 slated | |
用石板瓦盖( slate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20 turrets | |
(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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21 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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22 harmonious | |
adj.和睦的,调和的,和谐的,协调的 | |
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23 binds | |
v.约束( bind的第三人称单数 );装订;捆绑;(用长布条)缠绕 | |
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24 tapestry | |
n.挂毯,丰富多采的画面 | |
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25 pottery | |
n.陶器,陶器场 | |
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26 minaret | |
n.(回教寺院的)尖塔 | |
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27 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
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28 domain | |
n.(活动等)领域,范围;领地,势力范围 | |
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29 alley | |
n.小巷,胡同;小径,小路 | |
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30 wavy | |
adj.有波浪的,多浪的,波浪状的,波动的,不稳定的 | |
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31 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
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32 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
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33 rusticity | |
n.乡村的特点、风格或气息 | |
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34 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
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35 gracefully | |
ad.大大方方地;优美地 | |
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36 bantered | |
v.开玩笑,说笑,逗乐( banter的过去式和过去分词 );(善意地)取笑,逗弄 | |
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37 pictorial | |
adj.绘画的;图片的;n.画报 | |
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38 spoke | |
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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39 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
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40 augur | |
n.占卦师;v.占卦 | |
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41 prattle | |
n.闲谈;v.(小孩般)天真无邪地说话;发出连续而无意义的声音 | |
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42 squire | |
n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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43 rotation | |
n.旋转;循环,轮流 | |
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44 plied | |
v.使用(工具)( ply的过去式和过去分词 );经常供应(食物、饮料);固定往来;经营生意 | |
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45 grandiloquently | |
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46 extraordinarily | |
adv.格外地;极端地 | |
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47 provincial | |
adj.省的,地方的;n.外省人,乡下人 | |
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48 indigenous | |
adj.土产的,土生土长的,本地的 | |
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49 complacent | |
adj.自满的;自鸣得意的 | |
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50 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
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51 courteous | |
adj.彬彬有礼的,客气的 | |
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52 alluding | |
提及,暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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53 luxurious | |
adj.精美而昂贵的;豪华的 | |
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54 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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55 coverts | |
n.隐蔽的,不公开的,秘密的( covert的名词复数 );复羽 | |
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56 lurk | |
n.潜伏,潜行;v.潜藏,潜伏,埋伏 | |
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57 hues | |
色彩( hue的名词复数 ); 色调; 信仰; 观点 | |
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58 insistent | |
adj.迫切的,坚持的 | |
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59 misty | |
adj.雾蒙蒙的,有雾的 | |
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