The sky was blue above Holborn, and only one little cloud, half white, half golden, floated on the wind’s way from west to east. The long aisle1 of the street was splendid in the full light of the summer, and away in the west, where the houses seemed to meet and join, it was as a rich tabernacle, mysterious, the carven house of holy things.
A man came into the great highway from a quiet court. He had been sitting under plane-tree shade for an hour or more, his mind racked with perplexities and doubts, with the sense that all was without meaning or purpose, a tangle2 of senseless joys and empty sorrows. He had stirred in it and fought and striven, and now disappointment and success were alike tasteless. To struggle was weariness, to attain3 was weariness, to do nothing was weariness. He had felt, a little while before, that from the highest to the lowest things of life there was no choice, there was not one thing that was better than another: the savour of the cinders4 was no sweeter than the savour of the ashes. He had done work which some men liked and others disliked, and liking5 and disliking were equally tiresome6 to him. His poetry or his pictures or whatever it was that he worked at had utterly7 ceased to interest him, and he had tried to be idle, and found idleness as impossible as work. He had lost the faculty8 for making and he had lost the power of resting; he dozed9 in the day-time and started up and cried at night. Even that morning he had doubted and hesitated, wondering whether to stay indoors or to go out, sure that in either plan there was an infinite weariness and disgust.
When he at last went abroad he let the crowd push him into the quiet court, and at the same time cursed them in a low voice for doing so; he tried to persuade himself that he had meant to go somewhere else. When he sat down he desperately10 endeavoured to rouse himself, and as he knew that all the strong interests are egotistic, he made an effort to grow warm over the work he had done, to find a glow of satisfaction in the thought that he had accomplished11 something. It was nonsense; he had found out a clever trick and had made the most of it, and it was over. Besides, how would it interest him if afterwards he was praised when he was dead? And what was the use of trying to invent some new tricks? It was folly12; and he ground his teeth as a new idea came into his mind and was rejected. To get drunk always made him so horribly ill, and other things were more foolish and tiresome than poesy or painting, whichever it was.
He could not even rest on the uncomfortable bench, beneath the dank, stinking13 plane tree. A young man and a girl came up and sat next to him, and the girl said, “Oh, isn’t it beautiful to-day?” and then they began to jabber14 to one another — the blasted fools! He flung himself from the seat and went out into Holborn.
As far as one could see, there were two processions of omnibuses, cabs, and vans that went east and west and west and east. Now the long line would move on briskly, now it stopped. The horses’ feet rattled16 and pattered on the asphalt, the wheels ground and jarred, a bicyclist wavered in and out between the serried17 ranks, jangling his bell. The foot-passengers went to and fro on the pavement, with an endless change of unknown faces; there was an incessant18 hum and murmur19 of voices. In the safety of a blind passage an Italian whirled round the handle of his piano-organ; the sound of it swelled21 and sank as the traffic surged and paused, and now and then one heard the shrill22 voices of the children who danced and shrieked23 in time to the music. Close to the pavement a coster pushed his barrow, and proclaimed flowers in an odd intonation24, reminding one of the Gregorian chant. The cyclist went by again with his jangling, insistent25 bell, and a man who stood by the lamp-post set fire to his pastille ribbon, and let the faint blue smoke rise into the sun. Away in the west, where the houses seemed to meet, the play of sunlight on the haze26 made, as it were, golden mighty27 shapes that paused and advanced, and paused again.
He had viewed the scene hundreds of times, and for a long while had found it a nuisance and a weariness. But now, as be walked stupidly, slowly, along the southern side of Holborn, a change fell. He did not in the least know what it was, but there seemed to be a strange air, and a new charm that soothed28 his mind.
When the traffic was stopped, to his soul there was a solemn hush29 that summoned remnants of a far-off memory. The voices of the passengers sank away, the street was endued30 with a grave and reverent31 expectation. A shop that he passed had a row of electric lamps burning above the door, and the golden glow of them in the sunlight was, he felt, significant. The grind and jar of the wheels, as the procession moved on again, gave out a chord of music, the opening of some high service that was to be done, and now, in an ecstasy32, he was sure that he heard the roll and swell20 and triumph of the organ, and shrill sweet choristers began to sing. So the music sank and swelled and echoed in the vast aisle&mdashin Holborn.
What could these lamps mean, burning in the bright sunlight? The music was hushed in a grave close, and in the rattle15 of traffic he heard the last deep, sonorous33 notes shake against the choir34 walls — he had passed beyond the range of the Italian’s instrument. But then a rich voice began alone, rising and falling in monotonous35 but awful modulations, singing a longing36, triumphant37 song, bidding the faithful lift up their hearts, be joined in heart with the Angels and Archangels, with the Thrones and Dominations. He could see no longer, he could not see the man who passed close beside him, pushing his barrow, and calling flowers.
Ah! He could not be mistaken, he was sure now. Tho air was blue with incense38, he smelt39 the adorable fragrance40. The time had almost come. And then the silvery, reiterated41, instant summons of a bell; and again, and again.
The tears fell from his eyes, in his weeping the tears poured a rain upon his cheeks. But he saw in the distance, in the far distance, the carven tabernacle, golden mighty figure a-moving slowly, imploring42 arms stretched forth43.
There was a noise of a great shout; the choir sang in the tongue of his boyhood that he had forgotten:
SANT . . . SANT . . . SANT
Then the silvery bell tinkled44 anew; and again, and again. He looked and saw the Holy, White, and Shining Mysteries exhibited — in Holborn.
1 aisle | |
n.(教堂、教室、戏院等里的)过道,通道 | |
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2 tangle | |
n.纠缠;缠结;混乱;v.(使)缠绕;变乱 | |
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3 attain | |
vt.达到,获得,完成 | |
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4 cinders | |
n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 );炭渣;煤渣路;煤渣跑道 | |
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5 liking | |
n.爱好;嗜好;喜欢 | |
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6 tiresome | |
adj.令人疲劳的,令人厌倦的 | |
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7 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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8 faculty | |
n.才能;学院,系;(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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9 dozed | |
v.打盹儿,打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10 desperately | |
adv.极度渴望地,绝望地,孤注一掷地 | |
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11 accomplished | |
adj.有才艺的;有造诣的;达到了的 | |
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12 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
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13 stinking | |
adj.臭的,烂醉的,讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 );发臭味;名声臭;糟透 | |
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14 jabber | |
v.快而不清楚地说;n.吱吱喳喳 | |
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15 rattle | |
v.飞奔,碰响;激怒;n.碰撞声;拨浪鼓 | |
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16 rattled | |
慌乱的,恼火的 | |
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17 serried | |
adj.拥挤的;密集的 | |
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18 incessant | |
adj.不停的,连续的 | |
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19 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
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20 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
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21 swelled | |
增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 ); 肿胀; (使)凸出; 充满(激情) | |
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22 shrill | |
adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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23 shrieked | |
v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24 intonation | |
n.语调,声调;发声 | |
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25 insistent | |
adj.迫切的,坚持的 | |
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26 haze | |
n.霾,烟雾;懵懂,迷糊;vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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27 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
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28 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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29 hush | |
int.嘘,别出声;n.沉默,静寂;v.使安静 | |
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30 endued | |
v.授予,赋予(特性、才能等)( endue的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31 reverent | |
adj.恭敬的,虔诚的 | |
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32 ecstasy | |
n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
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33 sonorous | |
adj.响亮的,回响的;adv.圆润低沉地;感人地;n.感人,堂皇 | |
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34 choir | |
n.唱诗班,唱诗班的席位,合唱团,舞蹈团;v.合唱 | |
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35 monotonous | |
adj.单调的,一成不变的,使人厌倦的 | |
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36 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
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37 triumphant | |
adj.胜利的,成功的;狂欢的,喜悦的 | |
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38 incense | |
v.激怒;n.香,焚香时的烟,香气 | |
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39 smelt | |
v.熔解,熔炼;n.银白鱼,胡瓜鱼 | |
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40 fragrance | |
n.芬芳,香味,香气 | |
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41 reiterated | |
反复地说,重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42 imploring | |
恳求的,哀求的 | |
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43 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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44 tinkled | |
(使)发出丁当声,(使)发铃铃声( tinkle的过去式和过去分词 ); 叮当响着发出,铃铃响着报出 | |
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