Little upon her eighteenth birthday thought Miss Cubbidge, of Number 12A Prince of Wales' Square, that before another year had gone its way she would lose the sight of that unshapely oblong that was so long her home. And, had you told her further that within that year all trace of that so-called square, and of the day when her father was elected by a thumping1 majority to share in the guidance of the destinies of the empire, should utterly2 fade from her memory, she would merely have said in that affected3 voice of hers, "Go to!"
There was nothing about it in the daily Press, the policy of her father's party had no provision for it, there was no hint of it in conversation at evening parties to which Miss Cubbidge went: there was nothing to warn her at all that a loathsome4 dragon with golden scales that rattled5 as he went should have come up clean out of the prime of romance and gone by night (so far as we know) through Hammersmith, and come to Ardle Mansions6, and then had turned to his left, which of course brought him to Miss Cubbidge's father's house.
There sat Miss Cubbidge at evening on her balcony quite alone, waiting for her father to be made a baronet. She was wearing walking-boots and a hat and a low-necked evening dress; for a painter was but just now painting her portrait and neither she nor the painter saw anything odd in the strange combination. She did not notice the roar of the dragon's golden scales, nor distinguish above the manifold lights of London the small, red glare of his eyes. He suddenly lifted his head, a blaze of gold, over the balcony; he did not appear a yellow dragon then, for his glistening7 scales reflected the beauty that London puts upon her only at evening and night. She screamed, but to no knight8, nor knew what knight to call on, nor guessed where were the dragons' overthrowers of far, romantic days, nor what mightier9 game they chased, or what wars they waged; perchance they were busy even then arming for Armageddon.
Out of the balcony of her father's house in Prince of Wales' Square, the painted dark-green balcony that grew blacker every year, the dragon lifted Miss Cubbidge and spread his rattling10 wings, and London fell away like an old fashion. And England fell away, and the smoke of its factories, and the round material world that goes humming round the sun vexed11 and pursued by time, until there appeared the eternal and ancient lands of Romance lying low by mystical seas.
You had not pictured Miss Cubbidge stroking the golden head of one of the dragons of song with one hand idly, while with the other she sometimes played with pearls brought up from lonely places of the sea. They filled huge haliotis shells with pearls and laid them there beside her, they brought her emeralds which she set to flash among the tresses of her long black hair, they brought her threaded sapphires12 for her cloak: all this the princes of fable13 did and the elves and the gnomes14 of myth. And partly she still lived, and partly she was one with long-ago and with those sacred tales that nurses tell, when all their children are good, and evening has come, and the fire is burning well, and the soft pat-pat of the snowflakes on the pane15 is like the furtive16 tread of fearful things in old, enchanted17 woods. If at first she missed those dainty novelties among which she was reared, the old, sufficient song of the mystical sea singing of faery lore18 at first soothed19 and at last consoled her. Even, she forgot those advertisements of pills that are so dear to England; even, she forgot political cant20 and the things that one discusses and the things that one does not, and had perforce to content herself with seeing sailing by huge golden-laden galleons21 with treasure for Madrid, and the merry skull-and-cross-bones of the pirateers, and the tiny nautilus setting out to sea, and ships of heroes trafficking in romance or of princes seeking for enchanted isles22.
It was not by chains that the dragon kept her there, but by one of the spells of old. To one to whom the facilities of the daily Press had for so long been accorded spells would have palled—you would have said—and galleons after a time and all things out-of-date. After a time. But whether the centuries passed her or whether the years or whether no time at all, she did not know. If anything indicated the passing of time it was the rhythm of elfin horns blowing upon the heights. If the centuries went by her the spell that bound her gave her also perennial23 youth, and kept alight for ever the lantern by her side, and saved from decay the marble palace facing the mystical sea. And if no time went by her there at all, her single moment on those marvellous coasts was turned as it were to a crystal reflecting a thousand scenes. If it was all a dream, it was a dream that knew no morning and no fading away. The tide roamed on and whispered of mastery and of myth, while near that captive lady, asleep in his marble tank the golden dragon dreamed: and a little way out from the coast all that the dragon dreamed showed faintly in the mist that lay over the sea. He never dreamed of any rescuing knight. So long as he dreamed, it was twilight24; but when he came up nimbly out of his tank night fell and starlight glistened25 on the dripping, golden scales.
There he and his captive either defeated Time or never encountered him at all; while, in the world we know, raged Roncesvalles or battles yet to be—I know not to what part of the shore of Romance he bore her. Perhaps she became one of those princesses of whom fable loves to tell, but let it suffice that there she lived by the sea: and kings ruled, and Demons26 ruled, and kings came again, and many cities returned to their native dust, and still she abided there, and still her marble palace passed not away nor the power that there was in the dragon's spell.
And only once did there ever come to her a message from the world that of old she knew. It came in a pearly ship across the mystical sea; it was from an old school-friend that she had had in Putney, merely a note, no more, in a little, neat, round hand: it said, "It is not Proper for you to be there alone."
点击收听单词发音
1 thumping | |
adj.重大的,巨大的;重击的;尺码大的;极好的adv.极端地;非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词);狠打;怦怦地跳;全力支持 | |
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2 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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3 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
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4 loathsome | |
adj.讨厌的,令人厌恶的 | |
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5 rattled | |
慌乱的,恼火的 | |
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6 mansions | |
n.宅第,公馆,大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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7 glistening | |
adj.闪耀的,反光的v.湿物闪耀,闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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8 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
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9 mightier | |
adj. 强有力的,强大的,巨大的 adv. 很,极其 | |
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10 rattling | |
adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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11 vexed | |
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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12 sapphires | |
n.蓝宝石,钢玉宝石( sapphire的名词复数 );蔚蓝色 | |
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13 fable | |
n.寓言;童话;神话 | |
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14 gnomes | |
n.矮子( gnome的名词复数 );侏儒;(尤指金融市场上搞投机的)银行家;守护神 | |
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15 pane | |
n.窗格玻璃,长方块 | |
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16 furtive | |
adj.鬼鬼崇崇的,偷偷摸摸的 | |
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17 enchanted | |
adj. 被施魔法的,陶醉的,入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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18 lore | |
n.传说;学问,经验,知识 | |
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19 soothed | |
v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 );抚慰;使舒服;减轻痛苦 | |
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20 cant | |
n.斜穿,黑话,猛扔 | |
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21 galleons | |
n.大型帆船( galleon的名词复数 ) | |
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22 isles | |
岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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23 perennial | |
adj.终年的;长久的 | |
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24 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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25 glistened | |
v.湿物闪耀,闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26 demons | |
n.恶人( demon的名词复数 );恶魔;精力过人的人;邪念 | |
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