There was a Greek at Limasol who hoisted1 his flag as an English vice-consul, and he insisted upon my accepting his hospitality. With some difficulty, and chiefly by assuring him that I could not delay my departure beyond an early hour in the afternoon, I induced him to allow my dining with his family instead of banqueting all alone with the representative of my sovereign in consular3 state and dignity. The lady of the house, it seemed, had never sat at table with an European. She was very shy about the matter, and tried hard to get out of the scrape, but the husband, I fancy, reminded her that she was theoretically an Englishwoman, by virtue4 of the flag that waved over her roof, and that she was bound to show her nationality by sitting at meat with me. Finding herself inexorably condemned5 to bear with the dreaded6 gaze of European eyes, she tried to save her innocent children from the hard fate awaiting herself, but I obtained that all of them (and I think there were four or five) should sit at the table. You will meet with abundance of stately receptions and of generous hospitality, too, in the East, but rarely, very rarely in those regions (or even, so far as I know, in any part of southern Europe) does one gain an opportunity of seeing the familiar and indoor life of the people.
This family party of the good consul’s (or rather of mine, for I originated the idea, though he furnished the materials) went off very well. The mamma was shy at first, but she veiled the awkwardness which she felt by affecting to scold her children, who had all of them, I think, immortal8 names — names too which they owed to tradition, and certainly not to any classical enthusiasm of their parents. Every instant I was delighted by some such phrases as these, “Themistocles, my love, don’t fight.” — “Alcibiades, can’t you sit still?” — “Socrates, put down the cup.” — “Oh, fie! Aspasia, don’t. Oh! don’t be naughty!” It is true that the names were pronounced Socrahtie, Aspahsie — that is, according to accent, and not according to quantity — but I suppose it is scarcely now to be doubted that they were so sounded in ancient times.
To me it seems, that of all the lands I know (you will see in a minute how I connect this piece of prose’ with the isle9 of Cyprus), there is none in which mere10 wealth, mere unaided wealth, is held half so cheaply; none in which a poor devil of a millionaire, without birth, or ability, occupies so humble11 a place as in England. My Greek host and I were sitting together, I think, upon the roof of the house (for that is the lounging-place in Eastern climes), when the former assumed a serious air, and intimated a wish to converse12 upon the subject of the British Constitution, with which he assured me that he was thoroughly13 acquainted. He presently, however, informed me that there was one anomalous14 circumstance attended upon the practical working of our political system which he had never been able to hear explained in a manner satisfactory to himself. From the fact of his having found a difficulty in his subject, I began to think that my host might really know rather more of it than his announcement of a thorough knowledge had led me to expect. I felt interested at being about to hear from the lips of an intelligent Greek, quite remote from the influence of European opinions, what might seem to him the most astonishing and incomprehensible of all those results which have followed from the action of our political institutions. The anomaly, the only anomaly which had been detected by the vice-consular wisdom, consisted in the fact that Rothschild (the late money-monger) had never been the Prime Minister of England! I gravely tried to throw some light upon the mysterious causes that had kept the worthy15 Israelite out of the Cabinet, but I think I could see that my explanation was not satisfactory. Go and argue with the flies of summer that there is a power divine, yet greater than the sun in the heavens, but never dare hope to convince the people of the south that there is any other God than Gold.
My intended journey was to the site of the Paphian temple. I take no antiquarian interest in ruins, and care little about them, unless they are either striking in themselves, or else serve to mark some spot on which my fancy loves to dwell. I knew that the ruins of Paphos were scarcely, if at all, discernible, but there was a will and a longing16 more imperious than mere curiosity that drove me thither17.
For this just then was my pagan soul’s desire — that (not forfeiting18 my inheritance for the life to come) it had yet been given me to live through this world — to live a favoured mortal under the old Olympian dispensation — to speak out my resolves to the listening Jove, and hear him answer with approving thunder — to be blessed with divine counsels from the lips of Pallas Athenie — to believe — ay, only to believe — to believe for one rapturous moment that in the gloomy depths of the grove19, by the mountain’s side, there were some leafy pathway that crisped beneath the glowing sandal of Aphrodetie — Aphrodetie, not coldly disdainful of even a mortal’s love! And this vain, heathenish longing of mine was father to the thought of visiting the scene of the ancient worship.
The isle is beautiful. From the edge of the rich, flowery fields on which I trod to the midway sides of the snowy Olympus, the ground could only here and there show an abrupt20 crag, or a high straggling ridge21 that up-shouldered itself from out of the wilderness22 of myrtles, and of the thousand bright-leaved shrubs23 that twined their arms together in lovesome tangles24. The air that came to my lips was warm and fragrant25 as the ambrosial26 breath of the goddess, infecting me, not (of course) with a faith in the old religion of the isle, but with a sense and apprehension27 of its mystic power — a power that was still to be obeyed — obeyed by ME, for why otherwise did I toil28 on with sorry horses to “where, for HER, the hundred altars glowed with Arabian incense29, and breathed with the fragrance30 of garlands ever fresh”? 13
I passed a sadly disenchanting night in the cabin of a Greek priest — not a priest of the goddess, but of the Greek Church; there was but one humble room, or rather shed, for man, and priest, and beast. The next morning I reached Baffa (Paphos), a village not far distant from the site of the temple. There was a Greek husbandman there who (not for emolument31, but for the sake of the protection and dignity which it afforded) had got leave from the man at Limasol to hoist2 his flag as a sort of deputy-provisionary-sub-vice-pro-acting-consul of the British sovereign: the poor fellow instantly changed his Greek headgear for the cap of consular dignity, and insisted upon accompanying me to the ruins. I would not have stood this if I could have felt the faintest gleam of my yesterday’s pagan piety32, but I had ceased to dream, and had nothing to dread7 from any new disenchanters.
The ruins (the fragments of one or two prostrate33 pillars) lie upon a promontory34, bare and unmystified by the gloom of surrounding groves35. My Greek friend in his consular cap stood by, respectfully waiting to see what turn my madness would take, now that I had come at last into the presence of the old stones. If you have no taste for research, and can’t affect to look for inscriptions36, there is some awkwardness in coming to the end of a merely sentimental37 pilgrimage; when the feeling which impelled38 you has gone, you have nothing to do but to laugh the thing off as well as you can, and, by-the-bye, it is not a bad plan to turn the conversation (or rather, allow the natives to turn it) towards the subject of hidden treasures. This is a topic on which they will always speak with eagerness, and if they can fancy that you, too, take an interest in such matters, they will not only think you perfectly39 sane40, but will begin to give you credit for some more than human powers of forcing the obscure earth to show you its hoards41 of gold.
When we returned to Baffa, the vice-consul seized a club with the quietly determined42 air of a brave man resolved to do some deed of note. He went into the yard adjoining his cottage, where there were some thin, thoughtful, canting cocks, and serious, low-church-looking hens, respectfully listening, and chickens of tender years so well brought up, as scarcely to betray in their conduct the careless levity43 of youth. The vice-consul stood for a moment quite calm, collecting his strength; then suddenly he rushed into the midst of the congregation, and began to deal death and destruction on all sides. He spared neither sex nor age; the dead and dying were immediately removed from the field of slaughter44, and in less than an hour, I think, they were brought on the table, deeply buried in mounds45 of snowy rice.
My host was in all respects a fine, generous fellow. I could not bear the idea of impoverishing46 him by my visit, and I consulted my faithful Mysseri, who not only assured me that I might safely offer money to the vice-consul, but recommended that I should give no more to him than to “the others,” meaning any other peasant. I felt, however, that there was something about the man, besides the flag and the cap, which made me shrink from offering coin, and as I mounted my horse on departing I gave him the only thing fit for a present that I happened to have with me, a rather handsome clasp-dagger47, brought from Vienna. The poor fellow was ineffably48 grateful, and I had some difficulty in tearing myself from out of the reach of his thanks. At last I gave him what I supposed to be the last farewell, and rode on, but I had not gained more than about a hundred yards when my host came bounding and shouting after me, with a goat’s-milk cheese in his hand, which he implored49 me to accept. In old times the shepherd of Theocritus, or (to speak less dishonestly) the shepherd of the “Poetae Graeci,” sung his best song; I in this latter age presented my best dagger, and both of us received the same rustic50 reward.
It had been known that I should return to Limasol, and when I arrived there I found that a noble old Greek had been hospitably51 plotting to have me for his guest. I willingly accepted his offer. The day of my arrival happened to be the birthday of my host, and in consequence of this there was a constant influx52 of visitors, who came to offer their congratulations. A few of these were men, but most of them were young, graceful53 girls. Almost all of them went through the ceremony with the utmost precision and formality; each in succession spoke54 her blessing55, in the tone of a person repeating a set formula, then deferentially56 accepted the invitation to sit, partook of the proffered57 sweetmeats and the cold, glittering water, remained for a few minutes either in silence or engaged in very thin conversation, then arose, delivered a second benediction58, followed by an elaborate farewell, and departed.
The bewitching power attributed at this day to the women of Cyprus is curious in connection with the worship of the sweet goddess, who called their isle her own. The Cypriote is not, I think, nearly so beautiful in face as the Ionian queens of Izmir, but she is tall, and slightly formed; there is a high-souled meaning and expression, a seeming consciousness of gentle empire, that speaks in the wavy59 line of the shoulder, and winds itself like Cytherea’s own cestus around the slender waist; then the richly-abounding hair (not enviously60 gathered together under the head-dress) descends61 the neck, and passes the waist in sumptuous62 braids. Of all other women with Grecian blood in their veins63 the costume is graciously beautiful, but these, the maidens64 of Limasol — their robes are more gently, more sweetly imagined, and fall like Julia’s cashmere in soft, luxurious65 folds. The common voice of the Levant allows that in face the women of Cyprus are less beautiful than their brilliant sisters of Smyrna; and yet, says the Greek, he may trust himself to one and all the bright cities of the Aegean, and may yet weigh anchor with a heart entire, but that so surely as he ventures upon the enchanted66 isle of Cyprus, so surely will he know the rapture67 or the bitterness of love. The charm, they say, owes its power to that which the people call the astonishing “politics” (p???t???) of the women, meaning, I fancy, their tact68 and their witching ways: the word, however, plainly fails to express one-half of that which the speakers would say. I have smiled to hear the Greek, with all his plenteousness of fancy, and all the wealth of his generous language, yet vainly struggling to describe the ineffable69 spell which the Parisians dispose of in their own smart way by a summary “Je ne scai quoi.”
I went to Larnaca, the chief city of the isle, and over the water at last to Beyrout.
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hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hoist
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| n.升高，起重机，推动；v.升起，升高，举起 | |
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consular
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| a.领事的 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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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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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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anomalous
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| adj.反常的；不规则的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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forfeiting
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的现在分词 ) | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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tangles
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| （使）缠结， （使）乱作一团( tangle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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ambrosial
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| adj.美味的 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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emolument
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| n.报酬，薪水 | |
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piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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promontory
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| n.海角；岬 | |
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groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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inscriptions
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| （作者）题词( inscription的名词复数 )； 献词； 碑文； 证劵持有人的登记 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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hoards
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| n.（钱财、食物或其他珍贵物品的）储藏，积存( hoard的名词复数 )v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的第三人称单数 ) | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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impoverishing
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| v.使（某人）贫穷( impoverish的现在分词 )；使（某物）贫瘠或恶化 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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ineffably
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| adv.难以言喻地，因神圣而不容称呼地 | |
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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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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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hospitably
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| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
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influx
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| n.流入，注入 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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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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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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deferentially
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| adv.表示敬意地，谦恭地 | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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wavy
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| adj.有波浪的，多浪的，波浪状的，波动的，不稳定的 | |
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enviously
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| adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
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descends
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| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
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sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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enchanted
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| 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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rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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