"You're a woman—one to whom Heaven gave beauty, when it grafted1 roses on a briar. You are the reflection of Heaven in a pond, and he that leaps at you is sunk. You were all white, a sheet of lovely spotless paper, when you first were born; but you are to be scrawled2 and blotted3 by every goose's quill4."
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
LORD ROKESLE, a loose-living, Impoverished5 nobleman, and loves Lady
Allonby.
SIMON ORTS, Vicar of Heriz Magna, a debauched fellow, and Rokesle's creature.
PUNSHON, servant to Rokesle.
SCENE
SIMON'S HOUR
PROEM:—The Age and a Product of It
We begin at a time when George the Second was permitting Ormskirk and the Pelhams to govern England, and the Jacobites had not yet ceased to hope for another Stuart Restoration, and Mr. Washington was a promising9 young surveyor in the most loyal colony of Virginia; when abroad the Marquise de Pompadour ruled France and all its appurtenances, and the King of Prussia and the Empress Maria Theresa had, between them, set entire Europe by the ears; when at home the ladies, if rumor10 may be credited, were less unapproachable than their hoop-petticoats caused them to appear, [Footnote: "Oft have we known that sevenfold fence to fail, Though stiff with hoops11, and armed with ribs12 of whale."] and gentlemen wore swords, and some of the more reckless bloods were daringly beginning to discard the Ramillie-tie and the pigtail for their own hair; when politeness was obligatory13, and morality a matter of taste, and when well-bred people went about the day's work with an ample leisure and very few scruples14. In fine, we begin toward the end of March, in the year 1750, when Lady Allonby and her brother, Mr. Henry Heleigh, of Trevor's Folly15, were the guests of Lord Rokesle, at Stornoway Crag, on Usk.
As any person of ton could have informed you, Anastasia Allonby was the widow (by his second marriage) of Lord Stephen Allonby, the Marquis of Falmouth's younger brother; and it was conceded by the most sedate16 that Lord Stephen's widow, in consideration of her liberal jointure, possessed17 inordinate18 comeliness19.
She was tall for a woman. Her hair, to-night unpowdered, had the color of amber8 and something, too, of its glow; her eyes, though not profound, were large and in hue20 varied21, as the light fell or her emotions shifted, through a wide gamut22 of blue shades. But it was her mouth you remembered: the fulness and brevity of it, the deep indentation of its upper lip, the curves of it and its vivid crimson23—these roused you to wildish speculation24 as to its probable softness when Lady Allonby and Fate were beyond ordinary lenient25. Pink was the color most favorable to her complexion26, and this she wore to-night; the gown was voluminous, with a profusion27 of lace, and afforded everybody an ample opportunity to appraise28 her neck and bosom29. Lady Allonby had no reason to be ashamed of either, and the last mode in these matters was not prudish30.
To such a person, enters Simon Orts, chaplain in ordinary to Lord Rokesle, and Vicar of Heriz Magna, one of Lord Rokesle's livings.
I
"Now of a truth," said Simon Orts, "that is curious—undeniably that is curious."
He stayed at the door for a moment staring back into the ill-lit corridor.
Presently he shut the door, and came forward toward the fireplace.
Lady Allonby, half-hidden in the depths of the big chair beside the chimney-piece, a book in her lap, looked up inquiringly. "What is curious, Mr. Orts?"
The clergyman stood upon the hearth31, warming his hands, and diffusing32 an odor of tobacco and stale alcohol. "Faith, that damned rascal33—I beg your pardon, Anastasia; our life upon Usk is not conducive34 to a mincing35 nicety of speech. That rascal Punshon made some difficulty over admitting me; you might have taken him for a sentinel, with Stornoway in a state of siege. He ruffled37 me,—and I don't like it," Simon Orts said, reflectively, looking down upon her. "No, I don't like it. Where's your brother?" he demanded on a sudden.
"Harry38 and Lord Rokesle are at cards, I believe. And Mrs. Morfit has retired39 to her apartments with one of her usual headaches, so that I have been alone these two hours. You visit Stornoway somewhat late, Mr. Orts," Anastasia Allonby added, without any particular concealment40 of the fact that she considered his doing so a nuisance.
He jerked his thumb ceilingward. "The cloth is at any rascal's beck and call. Old Holles, my Lord's man, is dying up yonder, and the whim41 seized him to have a clergyman in. God knows why, for it appears to me that one knave42 might very easily make his way to hell without having another knave to help him. And Holles?—eh, well, from what I myself know of him, the rogue43 is triply damned." His mouth puckered44 as he set about unbuttoning his long, rain-spattered cloak, which, with his big hat, he flung aside upon a table. "Gad45!" said Simon Orts, "we are most of us damned on Usk; and that is why I don't like it—" He struck his hand against his thigh46. "I don't like it, Anastasia."
He turned and glanced about the hall, debating. Lady Allonby meanwhile regarded him, as she might have looked at a frog or a hurtless snake. A small, slim, anxious man, she found him; always fidgeting, always placating49 some one, but never without a covert50 sneer51. The fellow was venomous; his eyes only were honest, for even while his lips were about their wheedling52, these eyes flashed malice53 at you; and their shifting was so unremittent that afterward54 you recalled them as an absolute shining which had not any color. On Usk and thereabouts they said it was the glare from within of his damned soul, already at white heat; but they were a plain-spoken lot on Usk. To-night Simon Orts was all in black; and his hair, too, and his gross eyebrows55 were black, and well-nigh to the cheek-bones of his clean-shaven countenance56 the thick beard, showed black through the skin.
Now he kept silence for a lengthy57 interval58, his arms crossed on his breast, gnawing59 meanwhile at the fingernails of his left hand in an unattractive fashion he had of meditating60. When words came it was in a torrent61.
"I will read you my riddle48, then. You are a widow, rich; as women go, you are not so unpleasant to look at as most of 'em. If it became a clergyman to dwell upon such matters, I would say that your fleshly habitation is too fine for its tenant62, since I know you to be a good-for-nothing jilt. However, you are God's handiwork, and doubtless He had His reasons for constructing you. My Lord is poor; last summer at Tunbridge you declined to marry him. I am in his confidence, you observe. He took your decision in silence—'ware Rokesle when he is quiet! Eh, I know the man,—'tisn't for nothing that these ten years past I have studied his whims63, pampered64 his vanity, lied to him, toadied65 him! You admire my candor66?—faith, yes, I am very candid67. I am Rokesle's hanger-on; he took me out of the gutter68, and in my fashion I am grateful. And you?—Anastasia, had you treated me more equitably69 fifteen years ago, I would have gone to the stake for you, singing; now I don't value you the flip70 of a farthing. But, for old time's sake, I warn you. You and your brother are Rokesle's guests—on Usk! Harry Heleigh [Footnote: Henry Heleigh, thirteenth Earl of Brudenel, who succeeded his cousin the twelfth Earl in 1759, and lived to a great age. Bavois, writing in 1797, calls him "a very fine, strong old gentleman."] can handle a sword, I grant you,—but you are on Usk! And Mrs. Morfit is here to play propriety—propriety on Usk, God save the mark! And besides, Rokesle can twist his sister about his little finger, as the phrase runs. And I find sentinels at the door! I don't like it, Anastasia. In his way Rokesle loves you; more than that, you are an ideal match to retrieve71 his battered72 fortunes; and the name of my worthy73 patron, I regret to say, is not likely ever to embellish74 the Calendar of Saints."
Simon Orts paused with a short laugh. The woman had risen to her feet, her eyes widening and a thought troubled, though her lips smiled contemptuously.
"La, I should have comprehended that this late in the evening you would be in no condition to converse75 with ladies. Believe me, though, Mr. Orts, I would be glad to credit your warning to officious friendliness76, were it not that the odor about your person compels me to attribute it to gin."
"Oh, I have been drinking," he conceded; "I have been drinking with a most commendable77 perseverance78 for these fifteen years. But at present I am far from drunk." Simon Orts took a turn about the hall; in an instant he faced her with an odd, almost tender smile, "You adorable, empty-headed, pink-and-white fool," said Simon Orts, "what madness induced you to come to Usk? You know that Rokesle wants you; you know that you don't mean to marry him. Then why come to Usk? Do you know who is king in this sea-washed scrap79 of earth?—Rokesle. German George reigns80 yonder in England, but here, in the Isle81 of Usk, Vincent Floyer is king. And it is not precisely82 a convent that he directs. The men of Usk, I gather, after ten years' experience in the administering of spiritual consolation83 hereabouts"—and his teeth made their appearance in honor of the jest,—"are part fisherman, part smuggler84, part pirate, and part devil. Since the last ingredient predominates, they have no very unreasonable85 apprehension86 of hell, and would cheerfully invade it if Rokesle bade 'em do so. As I have pointed87 out, my worthy patron is subject to the frailties88 of the flesh. Oh, I am candid, for if you report me to his Lordship I shall lie out of it. I have had practice enough to do it handsomely. But Rokesle—do you not know what Rokesle is—?"
The Vicar of Heriz Magna would have gone on, but Lady Allonby had interrupted, her cheeks flaming. "Yes, yes," she cried;' "I know him to be a worthy gentleman. 'Tis true I could not find it in my heart to marry him, yet I am proud to rank Lord Rokesle among my friends." She waved her hand toward the chimney-piece, where hung—and hangs to-day,—the sword of Aluric Floyer, the founder89 of the house of Rokesle. "Do you see that old sword, Mr. Orts? The man who wielded90 it long ago was a gallant91 gentleman and a stalwart captain. And my Lord, as he told me but on Thursday afternoon, hung it there that he might always have in mind the fact that he bore the name of this man, and must bear it meritoriously92. My Lord is a gentleman. La, believe me, if you, too, were a gentleman, Mr. Orts, you would understand! But a gentleman is not a talebearer; a gentleman does not defame any person behind his back, far less the person to whom he owes his daily bread."
"So he has been gulling93 you?" said Simon Orts; then he added quite inconsequently: "I had not thought anything you could say would hurt me. I discover I was wrong. Perhaps I am not a gentleman. Faith, no; I am only a shabby drunkard, a disgrace to my cloth, am I not, Anastasia? Accordingly, I fail to perceive what old Aluric Floyer has to do with the matter in hand. He was reasonably virtuous94, I suppose; putting aside a disastrous95 appetite for fruit, so was Adam: but, viewing their descendants, I ruefully admit that in each case the strain has deteriorated96."
There was a brief silence; then Lady Allonby observed: "Perhaps I was discourteous97. I ask your forgiveness, Mr. Orts. And now, if you will pardon the suggestion, I think you had better go to your dying parishioner."
But she had touched the man to the quick. "I am a drunkard; who made me so? Who was it used to cuddle me with so many soft words and kisses—yes, kisses, my Lady!—till a wealthier man came a-wooing, and then flung me aside like an old shoe?"
This drenched99 her cheeks with crimson, "I think we had better not refer to that boy-and-girl affair. You cannot blame me for your debauched manner of living. I found before it was too late that I did not love you. I was only a girl, and 'twas natural that at first I should be mistaken in my fancies."
The Vicar had caught her by each wrist. "You don't understand, of course. You never understood, for you have no more heart than one of those pink-and-white bisque figures that you resemble. You don't love me, and therefore I will go to the devil' may not be an all-rational deduction100, but 'tis very human logic101. You don't understand that, do you, Anastasia? You don't understand how when one is acutely miserable102 one remembers that at the bottom of a wineglass—or even at the bottom of a tumbler of gin,—one may come upon happiness, or at least upon acquiescence103 to whatever the niggling gods may send. You don't understand how one remembers, when the desired woman is lost, that there are other women whose lips are equally red and whose hearts are tenderer and—yes, whose virtue104 is less exigent. No; women never understand these things: and in any event, you would not understand, because you are only an adorable pink-and-white fool."
"Oh, oh!" she cried, struggling, "How dare you? You insult me, you coward!"
"Well, you can always comfort yourself with the reflection that it scarcely matters what a sot like me may elect to say. And, since you understand me now no more than formerly105, Anastasia, I tell you that the lover turned adrift may well profit by the example of his predecessors106. Other lovers have been left forsaken107, both in trousers and in ripped petticoats; and I have heard that when Chryseis was reft away from Agamemnon, the cnax andrôn made himself tolerably comfortable with Briseis; and that, when Theseus sneaked108 off in the night, Ariadne, after having wept for a decent period, managed in the ultimate to console herself with Theban Bacchus,—which I suppose to be a courteous98 method of stating that the daughter of Minos took to drink. So the forsaken lover has his choice of consolation—in wine or in that dearer danger, woman. I have tried both, Anastasia. And I tell you—"
He dropped her hands as though they had been embers. Lord Rokesle had come quietly into the hall.
"Why, what's this?" Lord Rokesle demanded. "Simon, you aren't making love to Lady Allonby, I hope? Fie, man! remember your cloth."
Simon Orts wheeled—a different being, servile and cringing109. "Your Lordship is pleased to be pleasant. Indeed, though, I fear that your ears must burn, sir, for I was but now expatiating110 upon the manifold kindnesses your Lordship has been so generous as to confer upon your unworthy friend. I was admiring Lady Allonby's ruffle36, sir,—Valenciennes, I take it, and very choice."
Lord Rokesle laughed. "So I am to thank you for blowing my trumpet111, am I?" said Lord Rokesle. "Well, you are not a bad fellow, Simon, so long as you are sober. And now be off with you to Holles—the rascal is dying, they tell me. My luck, Simon! He made up a cravat112 better than any one in the kingdom."
"The ways of Providence113 are inscrutable," Simon Orts considered; "and if Providence has in verity114 elected to chasten your Lordship, doubtless it shall be, as anciently in the case of Job the Patriarch, repaid by a recompense, by a thousandfold recompense." And after a meaning glance toward Lady Allonby,—a glance that said: "I, too, have a tongue,"—he was mounting the stairway to the upper corridor when Lord Rokesle called to him.
"By my conscience! I forgot," said Lord Rokesle; "don't leave Stornoway without seeing me again, I shall want you by and by."
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1
grafted
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| 移植( graft的过去式和过去分词 )； 嫁接； 使（思想、制度等）成为（…的一部份）； 植根 | |
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scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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quill
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| n.羽毛管；v.给（织物或衣服）作皱褶 | |
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impoverished
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| adj.穷困的，无力的，用尽了的v.使（某人）贫穷( impoverish的过去式和过去分词 )；使（某物）贫瘠或恶化 | |
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6
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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7
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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9
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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10
rumor
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| n.谣言，谣传，传说 | |
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11
hoops
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| n.箍( hoop的名词复数 )；（篮球）篮圈；（旧时儿童玩的）大环子；（两端埋在地里的）小铁弓 | |
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12
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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13
obligatory
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| adj.强制性的，义务的，必须的 | |
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14
scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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15
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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16
sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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17
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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18
inordinate
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| adj.无节制的；过度的 | |
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19
comeliness
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| n. 清秀, 美丽, 合宜 | |
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20
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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21
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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22
gamut
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| n.全音阶，(一领域的)全部知识 | |
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23
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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lenient
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| adj.宽大的，仁慈的 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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28
appraise
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| v.估价，评价，鉴定 | |
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29
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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30
prudish
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| adj.装淑女样子的，装规矩的，过分规矩的；adv.过分拘谨地 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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32
diffusing
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| （使光）模糊，漫射，漫散( diffuse的现在分词 )； （使）扩散； （使）弥漫； （使）传播 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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conducive
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| adj.有益的，有助的 | |
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mincing
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| adj.矫饰的；v.切碎；切碎 | |
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36
ruffle
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| v.弄皱，弄乱；激怒，扰乱；n.褶裥饰边 | |
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37
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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38
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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39
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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40
concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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41
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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43
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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44
puckered
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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46
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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47
riddles
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| n.谜（语）( riddle的名词复数 )；猜不透的难题，难解之谜 | |
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48
riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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49
placating
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| v.安抚，抚慰，使平静( placate的现在分词 ) | |
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50
covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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51
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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52
wheedling
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| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的现在分词 ) | |
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53
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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54
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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55
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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56
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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57
lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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58
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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59
gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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60
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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61
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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62
tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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63
WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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64
pampered
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| adj.饮食过量的，饮食奢侈的v.纵容，宠，娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65
toadied
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| v.拍马，谄媚( toady的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
candor
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| n.坦白，率真 | |
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candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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68
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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69
equitably
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| 公平地 | |
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70
flip
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| vt.快速翻动；轻抛；轻拍；n.轻抛；adj.轻浮的 | |
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71
retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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72
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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73
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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embellish
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| v.装饰，布置；给…添加细节，润饰 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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77
commendable
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| adj.值得称赞的 | |
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perseverance
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| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
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79
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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80
reigns
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| n.君主的统治( reign的名词复数 )；君主统治时期；任期；当政期 | |
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isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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82
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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84
smuggler
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| n.走私者 | |
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85
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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88
frailties
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| n.脆弱( frailty的名词复数 )；虚弱；（性格或行为上的）弱点；缺点 | |
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Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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90
wielded
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| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的过去式和过去分词 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
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91
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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meritoriously
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93
gulling
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| v.欺骗某人( gull的现在分词 ) | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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deteriorated
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| 恶化，变坏( deteriorate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
discourteous
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| adj.不恭的，不敬的 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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deduction
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| n.减除，扣除，减除额；推论，推理，演绎 | |
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101
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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102
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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103
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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104
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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105
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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106
predecessors
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| n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 )；前辈；（被取代的）原有事物；前身 | |
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107
Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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108
sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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109
cringing
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| adj.谄媚，奉承 | |
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110
expatiating
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| v.详述，细说( expatiate的现在分词 ) | |
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111
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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112
cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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113
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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114
verity
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| n.真实性 | |
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