Salemina and I have spent two days in search of an abiding-place, and have visited eight well-recommended villages with that end in view; but she disliked four of them, and I couldn’t endure the other four, though I considered some of those that fell under her disapproval3 as quite delightful4 in every respect.
We never take Francesca on these pilgrimages of disagreement, as three conflicting opinions on the same subject would make insupportable what is otherwise rather exhilarating. She starts from Edinburgh to-morrow for a brief visit to the Highlands with the Dalziels, and will join us when we have settled ourselves.
Mr. Beresford leaves Paris as soon after our decision as he is permitted, so Salemina and I have agreed to agree upon one ideal spot within thirty-six hours of our quitting Edinburgh, knowing privately5 that after a last battle-royal we shall enthusiastically support the joint6 decision for the rest of our lives.
We have been bidding good-bye to people and places and things, and wishing the sun would not shine and thus make our task the harder. We have looked our last on the old grey town from Calton Hill, of all places the best, perhaps, for a view; since, as Stevenson says, from Calton Hill you can see the Castle, which you lose from the Castle, and Arthur’s Seat, which you cannot see from Arthur’s Seat. We have taken a farewell walk to the Dean Bridge, to gaze wistfully eastward7 and marvel8 for the hundredth time to find so beautiful a spot in the heart of a city. The soft-flowing Water of Leith winding9 over pebbles10 between grassy11 banks and groups of splendid trees, the roof of the little temple to Hygeia rising picturesquely12 among green branches, the slopes of emerald velvet13 leading up to the grey stone of the houses,—where, in all the world of cities, can one find a view to equal it in peaceful loveliness? Francesca’s ‘bridge-man,’ who, by the way, proved to be a distinguished14 young professor of medicine in the University, says that the beautiful cities of the world should be ranked thus,—Constantinople, Prague, Genoa, Edinburgh; but having seen only one of these, and that the last, I refuse to credit any sliding scale of comparison which leaves Edina at the foot.
It was nearing tea-time, an hour when we never fail to have visitors, and we were all in the drawing-room together. I was at the piano, singing Jacobite melodies for Salemina’s delectation. When I came to the last verse of Lady Nairne’s ‘Hundred Pipers,’ the spirited words had taken my fancy captive, and I am sure I could not have sung with more vigour15 and passion had my people been ‘out with the Chevalier.’
But shouther to shouther the brave lads keep;
Twa thousand swam owre to fell English ground,
An’ danced themselves dry to the pibroch’s sound.
Dumfounder’d the English saw, they saw,
Dumfounder’d they heard the blaw, the blaw,
Dumfounder’d they a’ ran awa’, awa’,
Frae the hundred pipers an’ a’, an’ a’!’
By the time I came to ‘Dumfounder’d the English saw,’ Francesca left her book and joined in the next four lines, and when we broke into the chorus Salemina rushed to the piano, and although she cannot sing, she lifted her voice both high and loud in the refrain, beating time the while with a dirk paper-knife.
‘Wi’ a hundred pipers an’ a’, an’ a’,
Wi’ a hundred pipers an’ a’, an’ a’,
We’ll up an’ gie them a blaw, a blaw,
Wi’ a hundred pipers an’ a’, an’ a’!’
Susanna ushered17 in Mr. Macdonald and Dr. Moncrieffe as the last ‘blaw’ faded into silence, and Jean Dalziel came upstairs to say that they could seldom get a quiet moment for family prayers, because we were always at the piano, hurling18 incendiary sentiments into the air,—sentiments set to such stirring melodies that no one could resist them.
“We are very sorry, Miss Dalziel,” I said penitently19. “We reserve an hour in the morning and another at bedtime for your uncle’s prayers, but we had no idea you had them at afternoon tea, even in Scotland. I believe that you are chaffing, and came up only to swell20 the chorus. Come, let us all sing together from ‘Dumfounder’d the English saw.’”
Mr. Macdonald and Dr. Moncrieffe gave such splendid body to the music, and Jean such warlike energy, that Salemina waved her paper-knife in a manner more than ever sanguinary, and Susanna, hesitating outside the door for sheer delight, had to be coaxed21 in with the tea-things. On the heels of the tea-things came the Dominie, another dear old friend of six weeks’ standing22; and while the doctor sang ‘Jock o’ Hazeldean’ with such irresistible23 charm that we all longed to elope with somebody on the instant, Salemina dispensed24 buttered toast, marmalade sandwiches, and the fragrant25 cup. By this time we were thoroughly26 cosy27, and Mr. Macdonald made himself and us very much at home by stirring the fire; whereupon Francesca embarrassed him by begging him not to touch it unless he could do it properly, which, she added, seemed quite unlikely, from the way in which he handled the poker28.
“What will Edinburgh do without you?” he asked, turning towards us with flattering sadness in his tone. “Who will hear our Scotch29 stories, never suspecting their hoary30 old age? Who will ask us questions to which we somehow always know the answers? Who will make us study and reverence31 anew our own landmarks32? Who will keep warm our national and local pride by judicious33 enthusiasm?”
“I think the national and local pride may be counted on to exist without any artificial stimulants,” dryly observed Francesca, whose spirit is not in the least quenched34 by approaching departure.
“Perhaps,” answered the Reverend Ronald; “but at any rate, you, Miss Monroe, will always be able to reflect that you have never been responsible even for its momentary35 inflation!”
“Isn’t it strange that she cannot get on better with that charming fellow?” murmured Salemina, as she passed me the sugar for my second cup.
“If your present symptoms of blindness continue, Salemina,” I said, searching for a small lump so as to gain time, “I shall write you a plaintive36 ballad37, buy you a dog, and stand you on a street corner! If you had ever permitted yourself to ‘get on’ with any man as Francesca is getting on with Mr. Macdonald, you would now be Mrs.—Somebody.”
“Do you know, doctor,” asked the Dominie, “that Miss Hamilton shed real tears at Holyrood the other night, when the band played ‘Bonnie Charlie’s noo awa’?’”
“They were real,” I confessed, “in the sense that they certainly were not crocodile tears; but I am somewhat at a loss to explain them from a sensible, American standpoint. Of course my Jacobitism is purely38 impersonal39, though scarcely more so than yours, at this late day; at least it is merely a poetic40 sentiment, for which Caroline, Baroness41 Nairne, is mainly responsible. My romantic tears came from a vision of the Bonnie Prince as he entered Holyrood, dressed in his short tartan coat, his scarlet42 breeches and military boots, the star of St. Andrew on his breast, a blue ribbon over his shoulder, and the famous blue velvet bonnet43 and white cockade. He must have looked so brave and handsome and hopeful at that moment, and the moment was so sadly brief, that when the band played the plaintive air I kept hearing the words—
‘Mony a heart will break in twa,
Should he no come back again.’
He did come back again to me that evening, and held a phantom44 levee behind the Marchioness of Heatherdale’s shoulder. His ‘ghaist’ looked bonnie and rosy45 and confident, yet all the time the band was playing the requiem46 for his lost cause and buried hopes.”
I looked towards the fire to hide the moisture that crept again into my eyes, and my glance fell upon Francesca sitting dreamily on a hassock in front of the cheerful blaze, her chin in the hollow of her palm, and the Reverend Ronald standing on the hearth-rug gazing at her, the poker in his hand, and his heart, I regret to say, in such an exposed position on his sleeve that even Salemina could have seen it had she turned her eyes that way.
Jean Dalziel broke the momentary silence: “I am sure I never hear the last two lines—
‘Better lo’ed ye canna be,
Will ye no’ come back again?’
without a lump in my throat,” and she hummed the lovely melody. “It is all as you say, purely impersonal and poetic. My mother is an Englishwoman, but she sings ‘Dumfounder’d the English saw, they saw’ with the greatest fire and fury.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
loath
|
|
| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
auld
|
|
| adj.老的，旧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
disapproval
|
|
| n.反对，不赞成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
privately
|
|
| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
joint
|
|
| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
eastward
|
|
| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
marvel
|
|
| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
winding
|
|
| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
pebbles
|
|
| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
grassy
|
|
| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
picturesquely
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
vigour
|
|
| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
swollen
|
|
| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
ushered
|
|
| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
hurling
|
|
| n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的现在分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
penitently
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
swell
|
|
| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
coaxed
|
|
| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
irresistible
|
|
| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
dispensed
|
|
| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
fragrant
|
|
| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
cosy
|
|
| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
poker
|
|
| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
scotch
|
|
| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
hoary
|
|
| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
reverence
|
|
| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
landmarks
|
|
| n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 )；目标；（标志重要阶段的）里程碑 ~ (in sth)；有历史意义的建筑物（或遗址） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
judicious
|
|
| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
quenched
|
|
| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
plaintive
|
|
| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
ballad
|
|
| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
purely
|
|
| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
impersonal
|
|
| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
poetic
|
|
| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
baroness
|
|
| n.男爵夫人，女男爵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
bonnet
|
|
| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
phantom
|
|
| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
requiem
|
|
| n.安魂曲，安灵曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |