The Duke of Ormskirk, then (one gleans1 from Löwe's pages), dismissed from mind the Audaine conspiracy2. It was a pity to miss the salutary effect of a few political executions just then, but after all there was nothing to be done about it. So the Duke turned to the one consolation3 offered by the affair, and set out for Halvergate House, the home of Marian Heleigh's father. There one finds him, six days later, deep in a consultation4 with his secretary, which in consideration of the unseasonable warmth was held upon the east terrace.
"Yes, I think we had better have the fellow hanged on the thirteenth," said
appropriate. Now the papers concerning the French treaty, if you please,
Mr. Langton."
The impassive-faced young man who sat opposite placed a despatch-box between them. "These were sent down from London only last night, sir. Mr. Morfit [Footnote: Perhaps the most adroit8 of all the many spies in Ormskirk's employment. It was this same Morfit who in 1756 accompanied Damiens into France as far as Calais; and see page 16.] has been somewhat dilatory9."
"Eh, it scarcely matters. I looked them over in bed this morning and found them quite correct, Mr. Langton, quite—Why, heyday10!" the Duke demanded, "what's this? You have brought me the despatch-box from my dresser—not, as I distinctly told you, from the table by my bed. Nay11, I have had quite enough of mistakes concerning despatch-boxes, Mr. Langton."
Mr. Langton stammered12 that the error was natural. Two despatch-boxes were in appearances so similar—
"Never make excuses, Mr. Langton. 'Qui s'excuse—' You can complete the proverb, I suppose. Bring me Morfit's report this afternoon, then. Yes, that appears to be all. You may go now, Mr. Langton. No, you may leave that box, I think, since it is here. O man, man, a mistake isn't high treason! Go away, Mr. Langton! you annoy me."
Left alone, the Duke of Ormskirk sat for a while, tapping his fingers irresolutely13 against the open despatch-box. He frowned a little, for, with fair reason to believe Tom Langton his son, he found the boy too stolid14, too unimaginative, to go far. It seemed to Ormskirk that none of his illegitimate children displayed any particular promise, and he sighed. Then he took a paper from the despatch-box, and began to read.
He sat, as one had said, upon the east terrace of Halvergate House. Behind him a tall yew-hedge shut off the sunlight from the table where he and Tom Langton had earlier completed divers15 businesses; in front of him a balustrade, ivy-covered, and set with flower-pots of stone, empty as yet, half screened the terraced gardens that sank to the artificial lake below.
The Duke could see only a vast expanse of sky and a stray bit of Halvergate printing the horizon with turrets16, all sober gray save where the two big copper17 cupolas of the south façade burned in the April sun; but by bending forward you glimpsed close-shaven lawns dotted with clipped trees and statues,—as though, he reflected, Glumdalclitch had left her toys scattered18 haphazard19 about a green blanket—and the white of the broad marble stairway descending20 to the sunlit lake, and, at times, the flash of a swan's deliberate passage across the lake's surface. All white and green and blue the vista21 was, and of a monastic tranquillity22, save for the plashing of a fountain behind the yew-hedge and the grumblings of an occasional bee that lurched complainingly on some by-errand of the hive.
Presently his Grace of Ormskirk replaced the papers in the despatch-box, and, leaning forward, sighed. "Non sum qualis eram sub bonæ regno Cynaræ," said his Grace of Ormskirk. He had a statesman-like partiality for the fag-end of an alcaic.
Then he lifted his head at the sound of a girl's voice. Somewhere rearward to the hedge the girl idly sang—an old song of Thomas Heywood's,—in a serene23 contralto, low-pitched and effortless, but very sweet. Smilingly the Duke beat time.
Sang the girl:
"Pack clouds away, and welcome, day!
To give my love good-morrow.
Wings from the wind to please her mind,
Notes from the lark I'll borrow:
To give my love good-morrow."
And here the Duke chimed in with a sufficiently27 pleasing baritone:
"To give my love good-morrow,
Notes from them all I'll borrow."
"O heavens!" spoke28 the possessor of the contralto, "I would have thought you were far too busy sending people to gaol29 and arranging their execution, and so on, to have any time for music. I am going for a walk in the forest, Jack30." Considering for a moment, she added, "You may come, too, if you like."
But the concession31 was made so half-heartedly that in the instant the Duke of Ormskirk raised a dissenting32 hand. "I would not annoy you for an emperor's ransom33. Go in peace, my child."
Lady Marian Heleigh stood at an opening in the yew-hedge and regarded him for a lengthy34 interval35 in silence. Slender, men called her, and women "a bean pole." There was about her a great deal of the child and something of the wood-nymph. She had abundant hair, the color of a dead oak-leaf, and her skin was clear, with a brown tinge36. Her eyes puzzled you by being neither brown nor green consistently; no sooner had you convicted them of verdancy37 than they shifted to the hue38 of polished maple39, and vice40 versa; but they were too large for her face, which narrowed rather abruptly41 beneath a broad, low forehead, and they flavored her aspect with the shrewd innocence42 of a kitten. She was by ordinary grave; but, animated43, her countenance44 quickened with somewhat the glow of a brown diamond; then her generous eyes flashed and filmed like waters moving under starlight, then you knew she was beautiful. All in all, you saw in Marian a woman designed to be petted, a Columbine rather than a Cleopatra; her lures45 would never shake the stability of a kingdom, but would inevitably46 gut47 its toy-shops; and her departure left you meditative48 less of high enterprises than of buying something for her.
Now Marian considered her betrothed49, and seemed to come at last to a conclusion that skirted platitude50. "Jack, two people can be fond of each other without wanting to be together all the time. And I really am fond of you, Jack."
"I would be a fool if I questioned the first statement," rejoined the Duke; "and if I questioned the second, very miserable51. Nevertheless, you go in pursuit of strange gods, and I decline to follow."
"You are going," the Duke continued, "in pursuit of gods beside whom I esteem54 Zidonian Ashtoreth, and Chemosh, and Milcom, the abomination of the Ammonites, to be commendable55 objects of worship. You will pardon my pedantic56 display of learning, for my feelings are strong. You are going to sit in the woods. You will probably sit under a youngish tree, and its branches will sway almost to the ground and make a green, sun-steeped tent about you, as though you sat at the heart of an emerald. You will hear the kindly57 wood-gods go steathily about the forest, and you will know that they are watching you, but you will never see them. From behind every tree-bole they will watch you; you feel it, but you never, never quite see them. Presently the sweet, warm odors of the place and its perpetual whispering and the illimitably idiotic58 boasting of the birds,—that any living creature should be proud of having constructed one of their nasty little nests is a reflection to baffle understanding,—this hodge-podge of sensations, I say, will intoxicate59 you. Yes, it will thoroughly60 intoxicate you, Marian, and you sit there quite still, in a sort of stupor61, drugged into the inebriate's magnanimity, firmly believing that the remainder of your life will be throughout of finer texture,—earth-spurning, free from all pettiness, and at worst vexed62 only by the noblest sorrows. Bah!" cried the Duke; "I have no patience with such nonsense! You will believe it to the tiniest syllable63, that wonderful lying message which April whispers to every living creature that is young,—then you will return to me, a slim, star-eyed Mænad, and will see that I am wrinkled. But do you go your ways, none the less, for April is waiting for you yonder,—beautiful, mendacious64, splendid April. And I? Faith, April has no message for me, my dear."
He laughed, but with a touch of wistfulness; and the girl came to him, laying her hand upon his arm, surprised into a sort of hesitant affection.
"How did you know, Jack? How did you, know that—things, invisible, gracious things, went about the spring woods? I never thought that you knew of them. You always seemed so sensible. I have reasoned it out, though," Marian went on, sagaciously wrinkled as to the brow. "They are probably the heathen fauns and satyrs and such,—one feels somehow that they are all men. Don't you, Jack? Well, when the elder gods were sent packing from Olympus there was naturally no employment left for these sylvan65 folk. So April took them into her service. Each year she sends them about every forest on her errands: she sends them to make up daffodil-cups, for instance, which I suppose is difficult, for evidently they make them out of sunshine; or to pencil the eyelids66 of the narcissi—narcissi are brazen67 creatures, Jack, and use a deal of kohl; or to marshal the fleecy young clouds about the sky; or to whistle the birds up from the south. Oh, she keeps them busy, does April! And 'tis true that if you be quite still you can hear them tripping among the dead leaves; and they watch you—with very bright, twinkling little eyes, I think,—but you never see them. And always, always there is that enormous whispering,—half-friendly, half-menacing,—as if the woods were trying to tell you something. 'Tis not only the foliage68 rustling…. No, I have often thought it sounded like some gigantic foreigner—some Titan probably,—trying in his own queer and outlandish language to tell you something very important, something that means a deal to you, and to you in particular. Has not anybody ever understood him?"
He smiled. "And I, too, have dwelt in Arcadia," said his Grace of Ormskirk. "Yes, I once heard April's message, Marian, for all my crow's-feet. But that was a long while ago, and perhaps I have forgotten it. I cannot tell, my dear. It is only from April in her own person that one hears this immemorial message. And as for me? Eh, I go into the April woods, and I find trees there of various sizes that pay no attention to me, and shrill69, dingy70 little birds that deafen71 me, and it may be a gaudy72 flower or two, and, in any event, I find a vast quantity of sodden73, decaying leaves to warn me the place is no fitting haunt for a gentleman afflicted74 with rheumatism75. So I come away, my dear."
Marian looked him over for a moment. "You are not really old," she said, with rather conscious politeness. "And you are wonderfully well-preserved. Why, Jack, do you mind—not being foolish?" she demanded, on a sudden.
He debated the matter. Then, "Yes," the Duke of Ormskirk conceded, "I suppose I do, at the bottom of my heart, regret that lost folly76. A part of me died, you understand, when it vanished, and it is not exhilarating to think of one's self as even partially77 dead. Once—I hardly know"—he sought the phrase,—"once this was a spacious78 and inexplicable79 world, with a mystery up every lane and an adventure around each street-corner; a world inhabited by most marvelous men and women,—some amiable80, and some detestable, but every one of them very interesting. And now I miss the wonder of it all. You will presently discover, my dear, that youth is only an ingenious prologue81 to whet82 one's appetite for a rather dull play. Eh, I am no pessimist,—one may still find satisfaction in the exercise of mind and body, in the pleasures of thought and taste and in other titillations of one's faculties83. Dinner is good and sleep, too, is excellent. But we men and women tend, upon too close inspection84, to appear rather paltry85 flies that buzz and bustle86 aimlessly about, and breed perhaps, and eventually die, and rot, and are swept away from this fragile window-pane of time that opens on eternity87."
"If you are, indeed, the sort of person you describe," said Marian, reflectively, "I do not at all blame April for having no communication with anyone possessed88 of such extremely unpleasant opinions. But for my own part, I shall never cease to wonder what it is that the woods whisper about."
"Why, yes, I think so," she answered, readily enough. "At least, I used to be very fond of Humphrey Degge,—that is the Marquis of Venour's place yonder, you know, just past the spur of the forest,—but he was only a younger son, so of course Father wouldn't hear of it. That was rather fortunate, as Humphrey by and by went mad about Dorothy's blue eyes and fine shape,—I think her money had a deal to do with it, too, and in any event, she will be fat as a pig at thirty,—and so we quarrelled. And I minded it—at first. And now—well, I scarcely know." Marian hesitated. "He was a handsome man, but that ridiculous cavalry91 moustache of his was so bristly—"
"I beg your pardon?" said the Duke.
"—that it disfigured him dreadfully," said she, with firmness. She had colored.
His Grace of Ormskirk was moved to mirth. "Child, child, you are so deliciously young it appears a monstrous92 crime to marry you to an old fellow like me!" He took her firm, soft hand in his. "Are you quite sure you can endure me, Marian?"
"Why, but of course I want to marry you," she said, naïvely surprised. "How else could I be Duchess of Ormskirk?"
Again he chuckled93. "You are a worldly little wretch," he stated; "but if you want my title for a new toy, it is at your service. And now be off with you,—you and your foolish woods, indeed!"
Marian went a slight distance and then turned about, troubled. "I am really very fond of you, Jack," she said, conscientiously94.
"Be off with you!" the Duke scolded. "You should be ashamed of yourself to practice such flatteries and blandishments on a defenceless old gentleman. You had best hurry, too, for if you don't I shall probably kiss you," he threatened. "I, also," he added, with point.
She blew him a kiss from her finger-tips and went away singing.
Sang Marian:
"Blackbird and thrush, in every bush,
Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow,
You pretty elves, amongst yourselves,
Sing my fair love good-morrow.
To give my love good-morrow,
点击
收听单词发音
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1
gleans
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| v.一点点地收集（资料、事实）( glean的第三人称单数 )；（收割后）拾穗 | |
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2
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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3
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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6
affixed
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| adj.[医]附着的，附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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adroit
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| adj.熟练的，灵巧的 | |
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9
dilatory
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| adj.迟缓的，不慌不忙的 | |
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10
heyday
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| n.全盛时期，青春期 | |
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11
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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irresolutely
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| adv.优柔寡断地 | |
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14
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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16
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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17
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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18
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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haphazard
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| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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23
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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24
banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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26
prune
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| n.酶干；vt.修剪，砍掉，削减；vi.删除 | |
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27
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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28
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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29
gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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30
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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31
concession
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| n.让步，妥协；特许(权) | |
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32
dissenting
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| adj.不同意的 | |
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33
ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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35
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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verdancy
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| n.幼稚；嫩绿 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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39
maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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40
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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41
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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42
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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43
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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45
lures
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| 吸引力，魅力（lure的复数形式） | |
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46
inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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47
gut
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| n.[pl.]胆量；内脏；adj.本能的；vt.取出内脏 | |
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meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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49
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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50
platitude
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| n.老生常谈，陈词滥调 | |
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51
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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52
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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53
interrogated
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| v.询问( interrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
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54
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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55
commendable
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| adj.值得称赞的 | |
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56
pedantic
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| adj.卖弄学问的；迂腐的 | |
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57
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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58
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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59
intoxicate
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| vt.使喝醉，使陶醉，使欣喜若狂 | |
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60
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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62
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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63
syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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64
mendacious
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| adj.不真的，撒谎的 | |
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65
sylvan
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| adj.森林的 | |
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66
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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67
brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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69
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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70
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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71
deafen
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| vt.震耳欲聋；使听不清楚 | |
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gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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prologue
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| n.开场白，序言；开端，序幕 | |
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whet
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| v.磨快，刺激 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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paltry
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| adj.无价值的，微不足道的 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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appraising
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| v.估价( appraise的现在分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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cryptic
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| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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conscientiously
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| adv.凭良心地；认真地，负责尽职地；老老实实 | |
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furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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