JUDGE PYNCHEON, while his two relatives have fled away with such ill-considered haste, still sits in the old parlor1, keeping house, as the familiar phrase is, in the absence of its ordinary occupants. To him, and to the venerable House of the Seven Gables, does our story now betake itself, like an owl2, bewildered in the daylight, and hastening back to his hollow tree.
The Judge has not shifted his position for a long while now. He has not stirred hand or foot, nor withdrawn3 his eyes so much as a hair’s-breadth from their fixed5 gaze towards the corner of the room, since the footsteps of Hepzibah and Clifford creaked along the passage, and the outer door was closed cautiously behind their exit. He holds his watch in his left hand, but clutched in such a manner that you cannot see the dial-plate. How profound a fit of meditation7! Or, supposing him asleep, how infantile a quietude of conscience, and what wholesome8 order in the gastric9 region, are betokened10 by slumber11 so entirely12 undisturbed with starts, cramp13, twitches14, muttered dreamtalk, trumpet-blasts through the nasal organ, or any slightest irregularity of breath! You must hold your own breath, to satisfy yourself whether he breathes at all. It is quite inaudible. You hear the ticking of his watch; his breath you do not hear. A most refreshing16 slumber, doubtless! And yet, the Judge cannot be asleep. His eyes are open! A veteran politician, such as he, would never fall asleep with wide-open eyes, lest some enemy or mischief-maker, taking him thus at unawares, should peep through these windows into his consciousness, and make strange discoveries among the remniniscences, projects, hopes, apprehensions17, weaknesses, and strong points, which he has heretofore shared with nobody. A cautious man is proverbially said to sleep with one eye open. That may be wisdom. But not with both; for this were heedlessness! No, no! Judge Pyncheon cannot be asleep.
It is odd, however, that a gentleman so burdened with engagements — and noted18, too, for punctuality — should linger thus in an old lonely mansion19, which he has never seemed very fond of visiting. The oaken chair, to be sure, may tempt20 him with its roominess. It is, indeed, a spacious21, and, allowing for the rude age that fashioned it, a moderately easy seat, with capacity enough, at all events, and offering no restraint to the Judge’s breadth of beam. A bigger man might find ample accommodation in it. His ancestor, now pictured upon the wall, with all his English beef about him, used hardly to present a front extending from elbow to elbow of this chair, or a base that would cover its whole cushion. But there are better chairs than this — mahogany, black walnut22, rosewood, spring-seated and damask-cushioned, with varied23 slopes, and innumerable artifices24 to make them easy, and obviate25 the irksomeness of too tame an ease — a score of such might be at Judge Pyncheon’s service. Yes! in a score of drawing-rooms he would be more than welcome. Mamma would advance to meet him, with outstretched hand; the virgin26 daughter, elderly as he has now got to be — an old widower27, as he smilingly describes himself — would shake up the cushion for the Judge, and do her pretty utmost to make him comfortable. For the Judge is a prosperous man. He cherishes his schemes, moreover, like other people, and reasonably brighter than most others; or did so, at least, as he lay abed this morning, in an agreeable half-drowse, planning the business of the day, and speculating on the probabilities of the next fifteen years. With his firm health, and the little inroad that age has made upon him, fifteen years or twenty — yes, or perhaps five-and-twenty!— are no more than he may fairly call his own. Five-and-twenty years for the enjoyment28 of his real estate in town and country, his railroad, bank, and insurance shares, his United States stock — his wealth, in short, however invested, now in possession, or soon to be acquired; together with the public honors that have fallen upon him, and the weightier ones that are yet to fall! It is good! It is excellent! It is enough!
Still lingering in the old chair! If the Judge has a little time to throw away, why does not he visit the insurance office, as is his frequent custom, and sit awhile in one of their leathern-cushioned arm-chairs, listening to the gossip of the day, and dropping some deeply designed chance-word, which will be certain to become the gossip of to-morrow. And have not the bank directors a meeting at which it was the Judge’s purpose to be present, and his office to preside? Indeed they have; and the hour is noted on a card, which is, or ought to be, in Judge Pyncheon’s right vest-pocket. Let him go thither30, and loll at ease upon his moneybags! He has lounged long enough in the old chair!
This was to have been such a busy day. In the first place, the interview with Clifford. Half an hour, by the Judge’s reckoning, was to suffice for that; it would probably be less, but — taking into consideration that Hepzibah was first to be dealt with, and that these women are apt to make many words where a few would do much better — it might be safest to allow half an hour. Half an hour? Why, Judge, it is already two hours, by your own undeviatingly accurate chronometer31. Glance your eye down at it and see! Ah! he will not give himself the trouble either to bend his head, or elevate his hand, so as to bring the faithful time-keeper within his range of vision! Time, all at once, appears to have become a matter of no moment with the Judge!
And has he forgotten all the other items of his memoranda32? Clifford’s affair arranged, he was to meet a State Street broker33, who has undertaken to procure34 a heavy percentage, and the best of paper, for a few loose thousands which the Judge happens to have by him, uninvested. The wrinkled note-shaver will have taken his railroad trip in vain. Half an hour later, in the street next to this, there was to be an auction35 of real estate, including a portion of the old Pyncheon property, originally belonging to Maule’s garden ground. It has been alienated36 from the Pyncheons these four-score years; but the Judge had kept it in his eye, and had set his heart on reannexing it to the small demesne37 still left around the Seven Gables; and now, during this odd fit of oblivion, the fatal hammer must have fallen, and transferred our ancient patrimony38 to some alien possessor. Possibly, indeed, the sale may have been postponed39 till fairer weather. If so, will the Judge make it convenient to be present, and favor the auctioneer with his bid, On the proximate occasion?
The next affair was to buy a horse for his own driving. The one heretofore his favorite stumbled, this very morning, on the road to town, and must be at once discarded. Judge Pyncheon’s neck is too precious to be risked on such a contingency40 as a stumbling steed. Should all the above business be seasonably got through with, he might attend the meeting of a charitable society; the very name of which, however, in the multiplicity of his benevolence41, is quite forgotten; so that this engagement may pass unfulfilled, and no great harm done. And if he have time, amid the press of more urgent matters, he must take measures for the renewal42 of Mrs. Pyncheon’s tombstone, which, the sexton tells him, has fallen on its marble face, and is cracked quite in twain. She was a praiseworthy woman enough, thinks the Judge, in spite of her nervousness, and the tears that she was so oozy43 with, and her foolish behavior about the coffee; and as she took her departure so seasonably, he will not grudge44 the second tombstone. It is better, at least, than if she had never needed any! The next item on his list was to give orders for some fruit-trees, of a rare variety, to be deliverable at his country-seat in the ensuing autumn. Yes, buy them, by all means; and may the peaches be luscious45 in your mouth, Judge Pyncheon! After this comes something more important. A committee of his political party has besought46 him for a hundred or two of dollars, in addition to his previous disbursements, towards carrying on the fall campaign. The Judge is a patriot47; the fate of the country is staked on the November election; and besides, as will be shadowed forth48 in another paragraph, he has no trifling49 stake of his own in the same great game. He will do what the committee asks; nay50, he will be liberal beyond their expectations; they shall have a check for five hundred dollars, and more anon, if it be needed. What next? A decayed widow, whose husband was Judge Pyncheon’s early friend, has laid her case of destitution51 before him, in a very moving letter. She and her fair daughter have scarcely bread to eat. He partly intends to call on her to-day — perhaps so — perhaps not — accordingly as he may happen to have leisure, and a small bank-note.
Another business, which, however, he puts no great weight on (it is well, you know, to be heedful, but not over-anxious, as respects one’s personal health)— another business, then, was to consult his family physician. About what, for Heaven’s sake? Why, it is rather difficult to describe the symptoms. A mere52 dimness of sight and dizziness of brain, was it?— or disagreeable choking, or stifling53, or gurgling, or bubbling, in the region of the thorax, as the anatomists say?— or was it a pretty severe throbbing54 and kicking of the heart, rather creditable to him than otherwise, as showing that the organ had not been left out of the Judge’s physical contrivance? No matter what it was. The doctor probably would smile at the statement of such trifles to his professional ear; the Judge would smile in his turn; and meeting one another’s eyes, they would enjoy a hearty56 laugh together! But a fig57 for medical advice. The Judge will never need it.
Pray, pray, Judge Pyncheon, look at your watch, Now! What — not a glance! It is within ten minutes of the dinner hour! It surely cannot have slipped your memory that the dinner of to-day is to be the most important, in its consequences, of all the dinners you ever ate. Yes, precisely58 the most important; although, in the course of your somewhat eminent59 career, you have been placed high towards the head of the table, at splendid banquets, and have poured out your festive60 eloquence61 to ears yet echoing with Webster’s mighty62 organ-tones. No public dinner this, however. It is merely a gathering63 of some dozen or so of friends from several districts of the State; men of distinguished64 character and influence, assembling, almost casually65, at the house of a common friend, likewise distinguished, who will make them welcome to a little better than his ordinary fare. Nothing in the way of French cookery, but an excellent dinner, nevertheless. Real turtle, we understand, and salmon66, tautog, canvas-backs, pig, English mutton, good roast beef, or dainties of that serious kind, fit for substantial country gentlemen, as these honorable persons mostly are. The delicacies67 of the season, in short, and flavored by a brand of old Madeira which has been the pride of many seasons. It is the Juno brand; a glorious wine, fragrant68, and full of gentle might; a bottled-up happiness, put by for use; a golden liquid, worth more than liquid gold; so rare and admirable, that veteran wine-bibbers count it among their epochs to have tasted it! It drives away the heart-ache, and substitutes no head-ache! Could the Judge but quaff69 a glass, it might enable him to shake off the unaccountable lethargy which (for the ten intervening minutes, and five to boot, are already past) has made him such a laggard70 at this momentous71 dinner. It would all but revive a dead man! Would you like to sip29 it now, Judge Pyncheon?
Alas72, this dinner. Have you really forgotten its true object? Then let us whisper it, that you may start at once out of the oaken chair, which really seems to be enchanted73, like the one in Comus, or that in which Moll Pitcher74 imprisoned75 your own grandfather. But ambition is a talisman76 more powerful than witchcraft77. Start up, then, and, hurrying through the streets, burst in upon the company, that they may begin before the fish is spoiled! They wait for you; and it is little for your interest that they should wait. These gentlemen — need you be told it?— have assembled, not without purpose, from every quarter of the State. They are practised politicians, every man of them, and skilled to adjust those preliminary measures which steal from the people, without its knowledge, the power of choosing its own rulers. The popular voice, at the next gubernatorial election, though loud as thunder, will be really but an echo of what these gentlemen shall speak, under their breath, at your friend’s festive board. They meet to decide upon their candidate. This little knot of subtle schemers will control the convention, and, through it, dictate78 to the party. And what worthier79 candidate — more wise and learned, more noted for philanthropic liberality, truer to safe principles, tried oftener by public trusts, more spotless in private character, with a larger stake in the common welfare, and deeper grounded, by hereditary80 descent, in the faith and practice of the Puritans — what man can be presented for the suffrage81 of the people, so eminently82 combining all these claims to the chief-rulership as Judge Pyncheon here before us?
Make haste, then! Do your part! The meed for which you have toiled83, and fought, and climbed, and crept, is ready for your grasp! Be present at this dinner!— drink a glass or two of that noble wine!— make your pledges in as low a whisper as you will!— and you rise up from table virtually governor of the glorious old State! Governor Pyncheon of Massachusetts!
And is there no potent84 and exhilarating cordial in a certainty like this? It has been the grand purpose of half your lifetime to obtain it. Now, when there needs little more than to signify your acceptance, why do you sit so lumpishly in your great-great-grandfather’s oaken chair, as if preferring it to the gubernatorial one? We have all heard of King Log; but, in these jostling times, one of that royal kindred will hardly win the race for an elective chief-magistracy.
Well! it is absolutely too late for dinner! Turtle, salmon, tautog, woodcock, boiled turkey, South–Down mutton, pig, roast-beef, have vanished, or exist only in fragments, with lukewarm potatoes, and gravies85 crusted over with cold fat. The Judge, had he done nothing else, would have achieved wonders with his knife and fork. It was he, you know, of whom it used to be said, in reference to his ogre-like appetite, that his Creator made him a great aninmal, but that the dinner-hour made him a great beast. Persons of his large sensual endowments must claim indulgence, at their feeding-time. But, for once, the Judge is entirely too late for dinner! Too late, we fear, even to join the party at their wine! The guests are warm and merry; they have given up the Judge; and, concluding that the Free–Soilers have him, they will fix upon another candidate. Were our friend now to stalk in among them, with that wide-open stare, at once wild and stolid86, his ungenial presence would be apt to change their cheer. Neither would it be seemly in Judge Pyncheon, generally so scrupulous87 in his attire88, to show himself at a dinner-table with that crimson89 stain upon his shirt-bosom. By the bye, how came it there? It is an ugly sight, at any rate; and the wisest way for the Judge is to button his coat closely over his breast, and, taking his horse and chaise from the livery stable, to make all speed to his own house. There, after a glass of brandy and water, and a mutton-chop, a beefsteak, a broiled90 fowl91, or some such hasty little dinner and supper all in one, he had better spend the evening by the fireside. He must toast his slippers92 a long while, in order to get rid of the chilliness93 which the air of this vile94 old house has sent curdling95 through his veins96.
Up, therefore, Judge Pyncheon, up! You have lost a day. But to-morrow will be here anon. Will you rise, betimes, and make the most of it? To-morrow. To-morrow! To-morrow. We, that are alive, may rise betimes to-morrow. As for him that has died to-day, his morrow will be the resurrection morn.
Meanwhile the twilight97 is glooming upward out of the corners of the room. The shadows of the tall furniture grow deeper, and at first become more definite; then, spreading wider, they lose their distinctness of outline in the dark gray tide of oblivion, as it were, that creeps slowly over the various objects, and the one human figure sitting in the midst of them. The gloom has not entered from without; it has brooded here all day, and now, taking its own inevitable98 time, will possess itself of everything. The Judge’s face, indeed, rigid99 and singularly white, refuses to melt into this universal solvent100. Fainter and fainter grows the light. It is as if another double-handful of darkness had been scattered101 through the air. Now it is no longer gray, but sable102. There is still a faint appearance at the window. neither a glow, nor a gleam, Nor a glimmer103 — any phrase of light would express something far brighter than this doubtful perception, or sense, rather, that there is a window there. Has it yet vanished? No!— yes!— not quite! And there is still the swarthy whiteness — we shall venture to marry these ill-agreeing words — the swarthy whiteness of Judge Pyncheon’s face. The features are all gone: there is only the paleness of them left. And how looks it now? There is no window! There is no face! An infinite, inscrutable blackness has annihilated104 sight! Where is our universe? All crumbled105 away from us; and we, adrift in chaos106, may hearken to the gusts108 of homeless wind, that go sighing and murmuring about in quest of what was once a world!
Is there no other sound? One other, and a fearful one. It is the ticking of the Judge’s watch, which, ever since Hepzibah left the room in search of Clifford, he has been holding in his hand. Be the cause what it may, this little, quiet, never-ceasing throb55 of Time’s pulse, repeating its small strokes with such busy regularity15, in Judge Pyncheon’s motionless hand, has an effect of terror, which we do not find in any other accompaniment of the scene.
But, listen! That puff109 of the breeze was louder. it, had a tone unlike the dreary110 and sullen111 one which has bemoaned112 itself, and afflicted113 all mankind with miserable114 sympathy, for five days past. The wind has veered115 about! It now comes boisterously117 from the northwest, and, taking hold of the aged118 framework of the Seven Gables, gives it a shake, like a wrestler119 that would try strength with his antagonist120. Another and another sturdy tussle121 with the blast! The old house creaks again, and makes a vociferous122 but somewhat unintelligible123 bellowing124 in its sooty throat (the big flue, we mean, of its wide chimney), partly in complaint at the rude wind, but rather, as befits their century and a half of hostile intimacy125, in tough defiance126. A rumbling127 kind of a bluster128 roars behind the fire-board. A door has slammed above stairs. A window, perhaps, has been left open, or else is driven in by an unruly gust107. It is not to be conceived, before-hand, what wonderful wind-instruments are these old timber mansions129, and how haunted with the strangest noises, which immediately begin to sing, and sigh, and sob130, and shriek131 — and to smite132 with sledge-hammers, airy but ponderous133, in some distant chamber134, — and to tread along the entries as with stately footsteps, and rustle135 up and down the staircase, as with silks miraculously136 stiff — whenever the gale137 catches the house with a window open, and gets fairly into it. Would that we were not an attendant spirit here! It is too awful! This clamor of the wind through the lonely house; the Judge’s quietude, as he sits invisible; and that pertinacious138 ticking of his watch!
As regards Judge Pyncheon’s invisibility, however, that matter will soon be remedied. The northwest wind has swept the sky clear. The window is distinctly seen. Through its panes139, moreover, we dimly catch the sweep of the dark, clustering foliage140 outside, fluttering with a constant irregularity of movement, and letting in a peep of starlight, now here, now there. Oftener than any other object, these glimpses illuminate141 the Judge’s face. But here comes more effectual light. Observe that silvery dance upon the upper branches of the pear-tree, and now a little lower, and now on the whole mass of boughs142, while, through their shifting intricacies, the moonbeams fall aslant143 into the room. They play over the Judge’s figure and show that he has not stirred throughout the hours of darkness. They follow the shadows, in changeful sport, across his unchanging features. They gleam upon his watch. His grasp conceals144 the dial-plate — but we know that the faithful hands have met; for one of the city clocks tells midnight.
A man of sturdy understanding, like Judge Pyncheon, cares no more for twelve o’clock at night than for the corresponding hour of noon. However just the parallel drawn4, in some of the preceding pages, between his Puritan ancestor and himself, it fails in this point. The Pyncheon of two centuries ago, in common with most of his contemporaries, professed145 his full belief in spiritual ministrations, although reckoning them chiefly of a malignant146 character. The Pyncheon of to-night, who sits in yonder arm-chair, believes in no such nonsense. Such, at least, was his creed147, some few hours since. His hair will not bristle148, therefore, at the stories which — in times when chimney-corners had benches in them, where old people sat poking149 into the ashes of the past, and raking out traditions like live coals — used to be told about this very room of his ancestral house. In fact, these tales are too absurd to bristle even childhood’s hair. What sense, meaning, or moral, for example, such as even ghost-stories should be susceptible150 of, can be traced in the ridiculous legend, that, at midnight, all the dead Pyncheons are bound to assemble in this parlor? And, pray, for what? Why, to see whether the portrait of their ancestor still keeps its place upon the wall, in compliance151 with his testamentary directions! Is it worth while to come out of their graves for that?
We are tempted152 to make a little sport with the idea. Ghost-stories are hardly to be treated seriously any longer. The family-party of the defunct153 Pyncheons, we presume, goes off in this wise.
First comes the ancestor himself, in his black cloak, steeple-hat, and trunk-breeches, girt about the waist with a leathern belt, in which hangs his steel-hilted sword; he has a long staff in his hand, such as gentlemen in advanced life used to carry, as much for the dignity of the thing as for the support to be derived154 from it. He looks up at the portrait; a thing of no substance, gazing at its own painted image! All is safe. The picture is still there. The purpose of his brain has been kept sacred thus long after the man himself has sprouted155 up in graveyard156 grass. See! he lifts his ineffectual hand, and tries the frame. All safe! But is that a smile?— is it not, rather a frown of deadly import, that darkens over the shadow of his features? The stout157 Colonel is dissatisfied! So decided158 is his look of discontent as to impart additional distinctness to his features; through which, nevertheless, the moonlight passes, and flickers159 on the wall beyond. Something has strangely vexed160 the ancestor! With a grim shake of the head, he turns away. Here come other Pyncheons, the whole tribe, in their half a dozen generations, jostling and elbowing one another, to reach the picture. We behold161 aged men and grandames, a clergyman with the Puritanic stiffness still in his garb162 and mien163, and a red-coated officer of the old French war; and there comes the shop-keeping Pyncheon of a century ago, with the ruffles164 turned back from his wrists; and there the periwigged and brocaded gentleman of the artist’s legend, with the beautiful and pensive165 Alice, who brings no pride out of her virgin grave. All try the picture-frame. What do these ghostly people seek? A mother lifts her child, that his little hands may touch it! There is evidently a mystery about the picture, that perplexes these poor Pyncheons when they ought to be at rest. In a corner, meanwhile, stands the figure of an elderly man, in a leathern jerkin and breeches, with a carpenter’s rule sticking out of his side pocket; he points his finger at the bearded Colonel and his descendants, nodding, jeering166, mocking, and finally bursting into obstreperous167, though inaudible laughter.
Indulging our fancy in this freak, we have partly lost the power of restraint and guidance. We distinguish an unlooked-for figure in our visionary scene. Among those ancestral people there is a young man, dressed in the very fashion of to-day: he wears a dark frock-coat, almost destitute168 of skirts, gray pantaloons, gaiter boots of patent leather, and has a finely wrought169 gold chain across his breast, and a little silver-headed whalebone stick in his hand. Were we to meet this figure at noonday, we should greet him as young Jaffrey Pyncheon, the Judge’s only surviving child, who has been spending the last two years in foreign travel. If still in life, how comes his shadow hither? If dead, what a misfortune! The old Pyncheon property, together with the great estate acquired by the young man’s father, would devolve on whom? On poor, foolish Clifford, gaunt Hepzibah, and rustic170 little Phoebe! But another and a greater marvel171 greets us! Can we believe our eyes? A stout, elderly gentleman has made his appearance; he has an aspect of eminent respectability, wears a black coat and pantaloons, of roomy width, and might be pronounced scrupulously172 neat in his attire, but for a broad crimson stain across his snowy neckcloth and down his shirt-bosom. Is it the Judge, or no? How can it be Judge Pyncheon? We discern his figure, as plainly as the flickering173 moonbeams can show us anything, still seated in the oaken chair! Be the apparition174 whose it may, it advances to the picture, seems to seize the frame, tries to peep behind it, and turns away, with a frown as black as the ancestral one.
The fantastic scene just hinted at must by no means be considered as forming an actual portion of our story. We were betrayed into this brief extravagance by the quiver of the moonbeams; they dance hand-in-hand with shadows, and are reflected in the looking-glass, which, you are aware, is always a kind of window or doorway175 into the spiritual world. We needed relief, moreover, from our too long and exclusive contemplation of that figure in the chair. This wild wind, too, has tossed our thoughts into strange confusion, but without tearing them away from their one determined176 centre. Yonder leaden Judge sits immovably upon our soul. Will he never stir again? We shall go mad unless he stirs! You may the better estimate his quietude by the fearlessness of a little mouse, which sits on its hind6 legs, in a streak177 of moonlight, close by Judge Pyncheon’s foot, and seems to meditate178 a journey of exploration over this great black bulk. Ha! what has startled the nimble little mouse? It is the visage of grimalkin, outside of the window, where he appears to have posted himself for a deliberate watch. This grimalkin has a very ugly look. Is it a cat watching for a mouse, or the devil for a human soul? Would we could scare him from the window!
Thank Heaven, the night is well-nigh past! The moonbeams have no longer so silvery a gleam, nor contrast so strongly with the blackness of the shadows among which they fall. They are paler now; the shadows look gray, not black. The boisterous116 wind is hushed. What is the hour? Ah! the watch has at last ceased to tick; for the Judge’s forgetful fingers neglected to wind it up, as usual, at ten o’clock, being half an hour or so before his ordinary bedtime — and it has run down, for the first time in five years. But the great world-clock of Time still keeps its beat. The dreary night — for, oh, how dreary seems its haunted waste, behind us!— gives place to a fresh, transparent179, cloudless morn. Blessed, blessed radiance! The daybeam — even what little of it finds its way into this always dusky parlor — seems part of the universal benediction180, annulling181 evil, and rendering182 all goodness possible, and happiness attainable183. Will Judge Pyncheon now rise up from his chair? Will he go forth, and receive the early sunbeams on his brow? Will he begin this new day — which God has smiled upon, and blessed, and given to mankind — will he begin it with better purposes than the many that have been spent amiss? Or are all the deep-laid schemes of yesterday as stubborn in his heart, and as busy in his brain, as ever?
In this latter case, there is much to do. Will the Judge still insist with Hepzibah on the interview with Clifford? Will he buy a safe, elderly gentleman’s horse? Will he persuade the purchaser of the old Pyncheon property to relinquish184 the bargain in his favor? Will he see his family physician, and obtain a medicine that shall preserve him, to be an honor and blessing185 to his race, until the utmost term of patriarchal longevity186? Will Judge Pyncheon, above all, make due apologies to that company of honorable friends, and satisfy them that his absence from the festive board was unavoidable, and so fully187 retrieve188 himself in their good opinion that he shall yet be Governor of Massachusetts? And all these great purposes accomplished189, will he walk the streets again, with that dog-day smile of elaborate benevolence, sultry enough to tempt flies to come and buzz in it? Or will he, after the tomb-like seclusion190 of the past day and night, go forth a humbled191 and repentant192 man, sorrowful, gentle, seeking no profit, shrinking from worldly honor, hardly daring to love God, but bold to love his fellow man, and to do him what good he may? Will he bear about with him — no odious193 grin of feigned194 benignity195, insolent196 in its pretence197, and loathsome198 in its falsehood — but the tender sadness of a contrite199 heart, broken, at last, beneath its own weight of sin? For it is our belief, whatever show of honor he may have piled upon it, that there was heavy sin at the base of this man’s being.
Rise up, Judge Pyncheon! The morning sunshine glimmers200 through the foliage, and, beautiful and holy as it is, shuns201 not to kindle202 up your face. Rise up, thou subtle, worldly, selfish, iron-hearted hypocrite, and make thy choice whether still to be subtle, worldly, selfish, iron-hearted, and hypocritical, or to tear these sins out of thy nature, though they bring the lifeblood with them! The Avenger203 is upon thee! Rise up, before it be too late!
What! Thou art not stirred by this last appeal? No, not a jot204! And there we see a fly — one of your common house-flies, such as are always buzzing on the window-pane — which has smelt205 out Governor Pyncheon, and alights, now on his forehead, now on his chin, and now, Heaven help us! is creeping over the bridge of his nose, towards the would-be chief-magistrate’s wide-open eyes! Canst thou not brush the fly away? Art thou too sluggish206? Thou man, that hadst so many busy projects yesterday! Art thou too weak, that wast so powerful? Not brush away a fly? Nay, then, we give thee up!
And hark! the shop-bell rings. After hours like these latter ones, through which we have borne our heavy tale, it is good to be made sensible that there is a living world, and that even this old, lonely mansion retains some manner of connection with it. We breathe more freely, emerging from Judge Pyncheon’s presence into the street before the Seven Gables.
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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9
gastric
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| adj.胃的 | |
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10
betokened
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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11
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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12
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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13
cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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14
twitches
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| n.（使）抽动， （使）颤动， （使）抽搐( twitch的名词复数 ) | |
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15
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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16
refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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17
apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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18
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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19
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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20
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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21
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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22
walnut
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| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
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23
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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24
artifices
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| n.灵巧( artifice的名词复数 )；诡计；巧妙办法；虚伪行为 | |
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25
obviate
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| v.除去，排除，避免，预防 | |
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26
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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27
widower
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| n.鳏夫 | |
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28
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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29
sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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30
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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31
chronometer
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| n.精密的计时器 | |
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32
memoranda
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| n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
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33
broker
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| n.中间人，经纪人；v.作为中间人来安排 | |
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34
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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35
auction
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| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
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36
alienated
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| adj.感到孤独的，不合群的v.使疏远( alienate的过去式和过去分词 )；使不友好；转让；让渡（财产等） | |
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37
demesne
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| n.领域，私有土地 | |
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38
patrimony
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| n.世袭财产，继承物 | |
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39
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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40
contingency
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| n.意外事件，可能性 | |
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41
benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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42
renewal
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| adj.(契约)延期，续订，更新，复活，重来 | |
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43
oozy
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| adj.软泥的 | |
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44
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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45
luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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46
besought
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| v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的过去式和过去分词 )；(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
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47
patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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48
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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49
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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50
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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51
destitution
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| n.穷困，缺乏，贫穷 | |
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52
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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53
stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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54
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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55
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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56
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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57
fig
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| n.无花果(树) | |
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58
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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59
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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60
festive
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| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
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61
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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62
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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63
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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64
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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65
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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66
salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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67
delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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68
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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69
quaff
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| v.一饮而尽；痛饮 | |
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70
laggard
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| n.落后者；adj.缓慢的，落后的 | |
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71
momentous
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| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
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72
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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73
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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74
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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75
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
talisman
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| n.避邪物，护身符 | |
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77
witchcraft
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| n.魔法，巫术 | |
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78
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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79
worthier
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| 应得某事物( worthy的比较级 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
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80
hereditary
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|
| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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81
suffrage
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| n.投票，选举权，参政权 | |
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82
eminently
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|
| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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83
toiled
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|
| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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84
potent
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|
| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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85
gravies
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| n.肉汁( gravy的名词复数 )；肉卤；意外之财；飞来福 | |
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86
stolid
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|
| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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87
scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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88
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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89
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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90
broiled
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| a.烤过的 | |
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91
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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92
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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93
chilliness
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| n.寒冷，寒意，严寒 | |
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94
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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95
curdling
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| n.凝化v.（使）凝结( curdle的现在分词 ) | |
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96
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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97
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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98
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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99
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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100
solvent
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| n.溶剂；adj.有偿付能力的 | |
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101
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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102
sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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103
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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104
annihilated
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| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的过去式和过去分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
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105
crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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106
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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107
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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108
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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109
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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110
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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111
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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112
bemoaned
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| v.为（某人或某事）抱怨( bemoan的过去式和过去分词 )；悲悼；为…恸哭；哀叹 | |
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113
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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114
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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115
veered
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| v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的过去式和过去分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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116
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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117
boisterously
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| adv.喧闹地，吵闹地 | |
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118
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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119
wrestler
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| n.摔角选手，扭 | |
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120
antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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121
tussle
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| n.&v.扭打，搏斗，争辩 | |
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122
vociferous
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| adj.喧哗的，大叫大嚷的 | |
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123
unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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124
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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125
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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126
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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127
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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128
bluster
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| v.猛刮；怒冲冲的说；n.吓唬，怒号；狂风声 | |
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129
mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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130
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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131
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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132
smite
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| v.重击；彻底击败；n.打；尝试；一点儿 | |
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133
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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134
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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135
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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136
miraculously
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| ad.奇迹般地 | |
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137
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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138
pertinacious
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| adj.顽固的 | |
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139
panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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140
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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141
illuminate
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| vt.照亮，照明；用灯光装饰；说明，阐释 | |
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142
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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143
aslant
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| adv.倾斜地；adj.斜的 | |
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144
conceals
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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145
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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146
malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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147
creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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148
bristle
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| v.（毛发）直立，气势汹汹，发怒；n.硬毛发 | |
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149
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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150
susceptible
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| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
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151
compliance
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| n.顺从；服从；附和；屈从 | |
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152
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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153
defunct
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| adj.死亡的；已倒闭的 | |
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154
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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155
sprouted
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| v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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156
graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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158
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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159
flickers
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| 电影制片业； （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的名词复数 ) | |
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160
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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161
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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162
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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163
mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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164
ruffles
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| 褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
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165
pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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166
jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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167
obstreperous
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| adj.喧闹的，不守秩序的 | |
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168
destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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169
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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170
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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171
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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172
scrupulously
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| adv.一丝不苟地；小心翼翼地，多顾虑地 | |
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173
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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174
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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175
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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176
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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177
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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178
meditate
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| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
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179
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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180
benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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181
annulling
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| v.宣告无效( annul的现在分词 )；取消；使消失；抹去 | |
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182
rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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183
attainable
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| a.可达到的，可获得的 | |
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184
relinquish
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| v.放弃，撤回，让与，放手 | |
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185
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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186
longevity
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| n.长命；长寿 | |
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187
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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188
retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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189
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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190
seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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191
humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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192
repentant
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| adj.对…感到悔恨的 | |
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193
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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194
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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195
benignity
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| n.仁慈 | |
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196
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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197
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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198
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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199
contrite
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| adj.悔悟了的，后悔的，痛悔的 | |
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200
glimmers
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| n.微光，闪光( glimmer的名词复数 )v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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201
shuns
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| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的第三人称单数 ) | |
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202
kindle
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| v.点燃，着火 | |
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203
avenger
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| n. 复仇者 | |
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204
jot
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| n.少量；vi.草草记下；vt.匆匆写下 | |
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205
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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206
sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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