In the homeward journey Tony again trudged1 behind while the officers held their post at Constance’s side. But Tony’s spirits were still singing from the little encounter on the castle platform, and in spite of the animated2 Italian which floated back, he was determined3 to look at the sunny side of the adventure. It was Mr. Wilder who unconsciously supplied him with a second opportunity for conversation. He and the Englishman, being deep in a discussion involving statistics of the Italian army budget, called on the two officers to set them straight. Tony, at their order, took his place beside the saddle; Constance was not to be abandoned again to Fidilini’s caprice. Miss Hazel and the Englishwoman were ambling on ahead in as matter-of-fact a fashion as if that were their usual mode of travel. Their donkeys were of a sedater4 turn of mind than Fidilini—a fact for which Tony offered thanks.
They were by this time well over the worst part of the mountain and the brief Italian twilight5 was already fading. Tony, with a sharp eye on the path ahead and a ready hand for the bridle6, was attending strictly7 to the duties of a well-trained donkey-man. It was Constance again who opened the conversation.
“Ah, Tony?”
“Si, signorina?”
“Did you ever read any Angleesh books—or do you do most of your reading in Magyar?”
“I haf read one, two, Angleesh books.”
“Did you ever read—er—‘The Lightning Conductor’ for example?”
“No, signorina; I haf never read heem.”
“I think it would interest you. It’s about a man who pretends he’s a chauffeur8 in order to—to— There are any number of books with the same motive9; ‘She Stoops to Conquer,’ ‘Two Gentlemen of Verona,’ ‘Lalla Rookh,’ ‘Monsieur Beaucaire’—Oh, dozens of them! It’s an old plot; it doesn’t require the slightest originality10 to think of it.”
“Si, signorina? Sank you.” Tony’s tone was exactly like Gustavo’s when he has failed to get the point, but feels that a comment is necessary.
Constance laughed and allowed a silence to follow, while Tony redirected his attention to Fidilini’s movements. His “Yip! Yip!” was an exact imitation, though in a deeper guttural, of Beppo’s cries before them. It would have taken a close observer to suspect that he had not been bred to the calling.
“Not always, signorina.”
“What did you do in New York?”
“I play hand-organ, signorina.”
Tony removed his hand from the bridle and ground “Yankee Doodle” from an imaginary instrument.
“I make musica, signorina, wif—wif—how you say, monk13, monka? His name Vittorio Emanuele. Ver’ nice monk—simpatica affezionata.”
“You’ve never been an actor?”
“An actor? No, signorina.”
“You should try it; I fancy you might have some talent in that direction.”
“Si, signorina. Sank you.”
She let the conversation drop, and Tony, after an interval of silence, fell to humming Santa Lucia in a very presentable baritone. The tune14, Constance noted15, was true enough, but the words were far astray.
“That’s a very pretty song, Tony, but you don’t appear to know it.”
“I no understand Italian, signorina. I just learn ze tune because Costantina like it.”
“You do everything that Costantina wishes?”
“Everysing! But if you could see her you would not wonder. She has hair brown and gold, and her eyes, signorina, are sometimes gray and sometimes black, and her laugh sounds like—”
“Oh, yes, I know; you told me all that before.”
“When she goes out to work in ze morning, signorina, wif the sunlight shining on her hair, and a smile on her lips, and a basket of clothes on her head—Ah, zen she is beautiful!”
“When are you going to be married?”
“I do not know, signorina. I have not asked her yet.”
“Then how do you know she wishes to marry you?”
“I do not know; I just hope.”
He rolled his eyes toward the moon which was rising above the mountains on the other side of the lake, and with a deep sigh he fell back into Santa Lucia.
Constance leaned forward and scanned his face.
“Tony! Tell me your name.” There was an undertone of meaning, a note of persuasion16 in her voice.
“Antonio, signorina.”
She shook her head with a show of impatience17.
“Your real name—your last name.”
“Yamhankeesh.”
“Oh!” she laughed. “Antonio Yamhankeesh doesn’t seem to me a very musical combination; I don’t think I ever heard anything like it before.”
“It suits me, signorina.” His tone carried a suggestion of wounded dignity. “Yamhankeesh has a ver’ beautiful meaning in my language—‘He who dares not, wins not’.”
“And that is your motto?”
“Si, signorina.”
“A very dangerous motto, Tony; it will some day get you into trouble.”
They had reached the base of the mountain and their path now broadened into the semblance18 of a road which wound through the fields, between fragrant19 hedgerows, under towering chestnut20 trees. All about them was the fragrance21 of the dewy, flower-scented summer night, the flash of fireflies, the chirp22 of crickets, occasionally the note of a nightingale. Before them out of a cluster of cypresses23, rose the square graceful24 outline of the village campanile.
“Isn’t Italy beautiful, Tony?”
“Yes, signorina, but I like America better.”
“We have no cypresses and ruins and nightingales in America, Tony. We have a moon sometimes, but not that moon.”
They passed from the moonlight into the shade of some overhanging chestnut trees. Fidilini stumbled suddenly over a break in the path and Tony pulled him up sharply. His hand on the bridle rested for an instant over hers.
“Italy is beautiful—to make love in,” he whispered.
She drew her hand away abruptly27, and they passed out into the moonlight again. Ahead of them where the road branched into the highway, the others were waiting for Constance to catch up, the two officers looking back with an eager air of expectation. Tony glanced ahead and added with a quick frown.
“But perhaps I do not need to tell you that—you may know it already?”
“You are impertinent, Tony.”
The highway was broad and they proceeded in a group, the conversation general and in English, Tony quite naturally having no part in it. But at the corners where the road to the village and the road to the villa25 separated, Fidilini obligingly turned stubborn again. His mind bent29 upon rest and supper, he insisted upon going to the village; the harder Constance pulled on the left rein30, the more fixed31 was his determination to turn to the right.
“Help! I’m being run away with again,” she called over her shoulder as the donkey’s pace quickened into a trot.
Tony, awakening32 to his duty, started in pursuit, while the others laughingly shouted directions. He did not run as determinedly33 as he might and they had covered considerable ground before he overtook them. He turned Fidilini’s head and they started back—at a walk.
“Signorina,” said Tony, “may I ask a question, a little impertinent?”
“No, certainly not.”
Silence.
“Ah, Tony?” she asked presently.
“Si, signorina?”
“What is it you want to ask?”
“Are you going to marry that Italian lieutenant34—or perhaps the captain?”
“That is impertinent.”
“Are you?”
“You forget yourself, Tony. It is not your place to ask such a question.”
“Si, signorina; it is my place. If it is true I cannot be your donkey-man any longer.”
“No, it is not true, but that is no concern of yours.”
“Are you going on another trip Friday—to Monte Maggiore?”
“Yes.”
“May I come with you?”
“Just as you please, Tony. If you don’t wish to work for us any more I dare say we can find another man.”
“It is as you please, signorina. If you wish it, I come, if you do not wish it, I go.”
She made no answer. They joined the others and the party proceeded to the villa gates.
Lieutenant di Ferara helped Constance dismount, while Captain Coroloni, with none too good a grace, held the donkey. A careful observer would have fancied that the lieutenant was ahead, and that both he and the captain knew it. Tony untied36 the bundles, dumped them on the kitchen floor, and waited respectfully, hat in hand, while Mr. Wilder searched his pockets for change. He counted out four lire and added a note. Tony pocketed the lire and returned the note, while Mr. Wilder stared his astonishment37.
“Good-bye, Tony,” Constance smiled as he turned away.
“Good-bye, signorina.” There was a note of finality in his voice.
“Well!” Mr. Wilder ejaculated. “That is the first—” “Italian” he started to say, but he caught the word before it was out “—donkey-driver I ever saw refuse money.”
Lieutenant di Ferara raised his shoulders.
“Machè! The fellow is too honest; you do well to watch him.” There was a world of disgust in his tone.
Constance glanced after the retreating figure and laughed.
“Tony!” she called.
He kept on; she raised her voice.
“Mr. Yamhankeesh.”
He paused.
“You call, signorina?”
“Be sure and be here by half past six on Friday morning; we must start early.”
“Sank you, signorina. Good-night.”
“Good-night, Tony.”
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收听单词发音
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1
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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2
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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sedater
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| adj.镇定的( sedate的比较级 )；泰然的；不慌不忙的（常用于名词前）；宁静的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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7
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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8
chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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9
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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11
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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12
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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13
monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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14
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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15
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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16
persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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17
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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18
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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19
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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20
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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21
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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22
chirp
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| v.(尤指鸟)唧唧喳喳的叫 | |
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23
cypresses
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| n.柏属植物，柏树( cypress的名词复数 ) | |
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24
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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26
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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28
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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29
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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30
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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31
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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32
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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33
determinedly
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| adv.决意地；坚决地，坚定地 | |
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34
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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35
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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36
untied
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| 松开，解开( untie的过去式和过去分词 )； 解除，使自由； 解决 | |
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37
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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