October shone royally on Richard’s fourteenth birthday. The brown beechwoods and golden birches glowed to a brilliant sun. Banks of moveless cloud hung about the horizon, mounded to the west, where slept the wind. Promise of a great day for Raynham, as it proved to be, though not in the manner marked out.
Already archery-booths and cricketing-tents were rising on the lower grounds towards the river, whither the lads of Bursley and Lobourne, in boats and in carts, shouting for a day of ale and honour, jogged merrily to match themselves anew, and pluck at the living laurel from each other’s brows, like manly1 Britons. The whole park was beginning to be astir and resound2 with holiday cries. Sir Austin Feverel, a thorough good Tory, was no game-preserver, and could be popular whenever he chose, which Sir Miles Papworth, on the other side of the river, a fast-handed Whig and terror to poachers, never could be. Half the village of Lobourne was seen trooping through the avenues of the park. Fiddlers and gipsies clamoured at the gates for admission; white smocks, and slate3, surmounted4 by hats of serious brim, and now and then a scarlet5 cloak, smacking6 of the old country, dotted the grassy7 sweeps to the levels.
And all the time the star of these festivities was receding8 further and further, and eclipsing himself with his reluctant serf Ripton, who kept asking what they were to do and where they were going, and how late it was in the day, and suggesting that the lads of Lobourne would be calling out for them, and Sir Austin requiring their presence, without getting any attention paid to his misery9 or remonstrances10. For Richard had been requested by his father to submit to medical examination like a boor11 enlisting12 for a soldier, and he was in great wrath13.
He was flying as though he would have flown from the shameful14 thought of what had been asked of him. By-and-by he communicated his sentiments to Ripton, who said they were those of a girl: an offensive remark, remembering which, Richard, after they had borrowed a couple of guns at the bailiff’s farm, and Ripton had fired badly, called his friend a fool.
Feeling that circumstances were making him look wonderfully like one, Ripton lifted his head and retorted defiantly15, “I’m not!”
This angry contradiction, so very uncalled for, annoyed Richard, who was still smarting at the loss of the birds, owing to Ripton’s bad shot, and was really the injured party. He therefore bestowed17 the abusive epithet18 on Ripton anew, and with increase of emphasis.
“You shan’t call me so, then, whether I am or not,” says Ripton, and sucks his lips.
This was becoming personal. Richard sent up his brows, and stared at his defier an instant. He then informed him that he certainly should call him so, and would not object to call him so twenty times.
“Do it, and see!” returns Ripton, rocking on his feet, and breathing quick.
With a gravity of which only boys and other barbarians19 are capable, Richard went through the entire number, stressing the epithet to increase the defiance20 and avoid monotony, as he progressed, while Ripton bobbed his head every time in assent21, as it were, to his comrade’s accuracy, and as a record for his profound humiliation22. The dog they had with them gazed at the extraordinary performance with interrogating23 wags of the tail.
Twenty times, duly and deliberately24, Richard repeated the obnoxious25 word.
At the twentieth solemn iteration of Ripton’s capital shortcoming, Ripton delivered a smart back-hander on Richard’s mouth, and squared precipitately26; perhaps sorry when the deed was done, for he was a kind-hearted lad, and as Richard simply bowed in acknowledgment of the blow he thought he had gone too far. He did not know the young gentleman he was dealing27 with. Richard was extremely cool.
“Shall we fight here?” he said.
“Anywhere you like,” replied Ripton.
“A little more into the wood, I think. We may be interrupted.” And Richard led the way with a courteous28 reserve that somewhat chilled Ripton’s ardour for the contest. On the skirts of the wood, Richard threw off his jacket and waistcoat, and, quite collected, waited for Ripton to do the same. The latter boy was flushed and restless; older and broader, but not so tight-limbed and well-set. The Gods, sole witnesses of their battle, betted dead against him. Richard had mounted the white cockade of the Feverels, and there was a look in him that asked for tough work to extinguish. His brows, slightly lined upward at the temples, converging29 to a knot about the well-set straight nose; his full grey eyes, open nostrils30, and planted feet, and a gentlemanly air of calm and alertness, formed a spirited picture of a young combatant. As for Ripton, he was all abroad, and fought in schoolboy style — that is, he rushed at the foe31 head foremost, and struck like a windmill. He was a lumpy boy. When he did hit, he made himself felt; but he was at the mercy of science. To see him come dashing in, blinking and puffing32 and whirling his arms abroad while the felling blow went straight between them, you perceived that he was fighting a fight of desperation, and knew it. For the dreaded33 alternative glared him in the face that, if he yielded, he must look like what he had been twenty times calumniously called; and he would die rather than yield, and swing his windmill till he dropped. Poor boy! he dropped frequently. The gallant34 fellow fought for appearances, and down he went. The Gods favour one of two parties. Prince Turnus was a noble youth; but he had not Pallas at his elbow. Ripton was a capital boy; he had no science. He could not prove he was not a fool! When one comes to think of it, Ripton did choose the only possible way, and we should all of us have considerable difficulty in proving the negative by any other. Ripton came on the unerring fist again and again; and if it was true, as he said in short colloquial35 gasps36, that he required as much beating as an egg to be beaten thoroughly37, a fortunate interruption alone saved our friend from resembling that substance. The boys heard summoning voices, and beheld38 Mr. Morton of Poer Hall and Austin Wentworth stepping towards them.
A truce39 was sounded, jackets were caught up, guns shouldered, and off they trotted40 in concert through the depths of the wood, not stopping till that and half-a-dozen fields and a larch41 plantation42 were well behind them.
When they halted to take breath, there was a mutual43 study of faces. Ripton’s was much discoloured, and looked fiercer with its natural war-paint than the boy felt. Nevertheless, he squared up dauntlessly on the new ground, and Richard, whose wrath was appeased44, could not refrain from asking him whether he had not really had enough.
“Never!” shouts the noble enemy.
“Well, look here,” said Richard, appealing to common sense, “I’m tired of knocking you down. I’ll say you’re not a fool, if you’ll give me your hand.”
Ripton demurred45 an instant to consult with honour, who bade him catch at his chance.
He held out his hand. “There!” and the boys grasped hands and were fast friends. Ripton had gained his point, and Richard decidedly had the best of it. So they were on equal ground. Both could claim a victory, which was all the better for their friendship.
Ripton washed his face and comforted his nose at a brook47, and was now ready to follow his friend wherever he chose to lead. They continued to beat about for birds. The birds on the Raynham estates were found singularly cunning, and repeatedly eluded48 the aim of these prime shots, so they pushed their expedition into the lands of their neighbours, in search of a stupider race, happily oblivious49 of the laws and conditions of trespass50; unconscious, too, that they were poaching on the demesne51 of the notorious Farmer Blaize, the free-trade farmer under the shield of the Papworths, no worshipper of the Griffin between two Wheatsheaves; destined52 to be much allied53 with Richard’s fortunes from beginning to end. Farmer Blaize hated poachers, and especially young chaps poaching, who did it mostly from impudence54. He heard the audacious shots popping right and left, and going forth55 to have a glimpse at the intruders, and observing their size, swore he would teach my gentlemen a thing, lords or no lords.
Richard had brought down a beautiful cock-pheasant, and was exulting56 over it, when the farmer’s portentous57 figure burst upon them, cracking an avenging58 horsewhip. His salute59 was ironical60.
“Havin’ good sport, gentlemen, are ye?”
“Just bagged a splendid bird!” radiant Richard informed him.
“Oh!” Farmer Blaize gave an admonitory flick61 of the whip.
“Just let me clap eye on’t, then.”
“Say, please,” interposed Ripton, who was not blind to doubtful aspects.
Farmer Blaize threw up his chin, and grinned grimly.
“Please to you, sir? Why, my chap, you looks as if ye didn’t much mind what come t’yer nose, I reckon. You looks an old poacher, you do. Tall ye what ’tis!” He changed his banter62 to business, “That bird’s mine! Now you jest hand him over, and sheer off, you dam young scoundrels! I know ye!” And he became exceedingly opprobrious63, and uttered contempt of the name of Feverel.
Richard opened his eyes.
“If you wants to be horsewhipped, you’ll stay where y’are!” continued the farmer. “Giles Blaize never stands nonsense!”
“Then we’ll stay,” quoth Richard.
“Good! so be’t! If you will have’t, have’t, my men!”
As a preparatory measure, Farmer Blaize seized a wing of the bird, on which both boys flung themselves desperately64, and secured it minus the pinion65.
“That’s your game,” cried the farmer. “Here’s a taste of horsewhip for ye. I never stands nonsense!” and sweetch went the mighty66 whip, well swayed. The boys tried to close with him. He kept his distance and lashed67 without mercy. Black blood was made by Farmer Blaize that day! The boys wriggled68, in spite of themselves. It was like a relentless69 serpent coiling, and biting, and stinging their young veins70 to madness. Probably they felt the disgrace of the contortions71 they were made to go through more than the pain, but the pain was fierce, for the farmer laid about from a practised arm, and did not consider that he had done enough till he was well breathed and his ruddy jowl inflamed72. He paused, to receive the remainder of the cock-pheasant in his face.
“Take your beastly bird,” cried Richard.
“Money, my lads, and interest,” roared the farmer, lashing73 out again.
Shameful as it was to retreat, there was but that course open to them. They decided46 to surrender the field.
“Look! you big brute,” Richard shook his gun, hoarse74 with passion, “I’d have shot you, if I’d been loaded. Mind! if I come across you when I’m loaded, you coward, I’ll fire!”
The unEnglish nature of this threat exasperated75 Farmer Blaize, and he pressed the pursuit in time to bestow16 a few farewell stripes as they were escaping tight-breeched into neutral territory. At the hedge they parleyed a minute, the farmer to inquire if they had had a mortal good tanning and were satisfied, for when they wanted a further instalment of the same they were to come for it to Belthorpe Farm, and there it was in pickle76: The boys meantime exploding in menaces and threats of vengeance77, on which the farmer contemptuously turned his back. Ripton had already stocked an armful of flints for the enjoyment78 of a little skirmishing. Richard, however, knocked them all out, saying, “No! Gentlemen don’t fling stones; leave that to the blackguards.”
“Just one shy at him!” pleaded Ripton, with his eye on Farmer Blaize’s broad mark, and his whole mind drunken with a sudden revelation of the advantages of light troops in opposition79 to heavies.
“No,” said Richard, imperatively80, “no stones,” and marched briskly away. Ripton followed with a sigh. His leader’s magnanimity was wholly beyond him. A good spanking81 mark at the farmer would have relieved Master Ripton; it would have done nothing to console Richard Feverel for the ignominy he had been compelled to submit to. Ripton was familiar with the rod, a monster much despoiled82 of his terrors by intimacy83. Birch-fever was past with this boy. The horrible sense of shame, self-loathing, universal hatred84, impotent vengeance, as if the spirit were steeped in abysmal85 blackness, which comes upon a courageous86 and sensitive youth condemned87 for the first time to taste this piece of fleshly bitterness, and suffer what he feels is a defilement88, Ripton had weathered and forgotten. He was seasoned wood, and took the world pretty wisely; not reckless of castigation89, as some boys become, nor oversensitive as to dishonour90, as his friend and comrade beside him was.
Richard’s blood was poisoned. He had the fever on him severely91. He would not allow stone-flinging, because it was a habit of his to discountenance it. Mere92 gentlemanly considerations had scarce shielded Farmer Blaize, and certain very ungentlemanly schemes were coming to ghastly heads in the tumult93 of his brain; rejected solely94 from their glaring impracticability even to his young intelligence. A sweeping95 and consummate96 vengeance for the indignity97 alone should satisfy him. Something tremendous must be done, and done without delay. At one moment he thought of killing98 all the farmer’s cattle; next of killing him; challenging him to single combat with the arms, and according to the fashion of gentlemen. But the farmer was a coward; he would refuse. Then he, Richard Feverel, would stand by the farmer’s bedside, and rouse him; rouse him to fight with powder and ball in his own chamber99, in the cowardly midnight, where he might tremble, but dare not refuse.
“Lord!” cried simple Ripton, while these hopeful plots were raging in his comrade’s brain, now sparkling for immediate100 execution, and anon lapsing101 disdainfully dark in their chances of fulfilment, “how I wish you’d have let me notch102 him, Ricky! I’m a safe shot. I never miss. I should feel quite jolly if I’d spanked103 him once. We should have had the best of him at that game. I say!” and a sharp thought drew Ripton’s ideas nearer home, “I wonder whether my nose is as bad as he says! Where can I see myself?”
To these exclamations104 Richard was deaf, and he trudged105 steadily106 forward, facing but one object.
After tearing through innumerable hedges, leaping fences, jumping dykes107, penetrating108 brambly copses, and getting dirty, ragged109, and tired, Ripton awoke from his dream of Farmer Blaize and a blue nose to the vivid consciousness of hunger; and this grew with the rapidity of light upon him, till in the course of another minute he was enduring the extremes of famine, and ventured to question his leader whither he was being conducted. Raynham was out of sight. They were a long way down the valley, miles from Lobourne, in a country of sour pools, yellow brooks110, rank pasturage, desolate111 heath. Solitary112 cows were seen; the smoke of a mud cottage; a cart piled with peat; a donkey grazing at leisure, oblivious of an unkind world; geese by a horse-pond, gabbling as in the first loneliness of creation; uncooked things that a famishing boy cannot possibly care for, and must despise. Ripton was in despair.
“Where are you going to?” he inquired with a voice of the last time of asking, and halted resolutely113.
Richard now broke his silence to reply, “Anywhere.”
“Anywhere!” Ripton took up the moody114 word. “But ain’t you awfully115 hungry?” he gasped116 vehemently117, in a way that showed the total emptiness of his stomach.
“No,” was Richard’s brief response.
“Not hungry!” Ripton’s amazement118 lent him increased vehemence119. “Why, you haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast! Not hungry? I declare I’m starving. I feel such a gnawing120 I could eat dry bread and cheese!”
Richard sneered121: not for reasons that would have actuated a similar demonstration122 of the philosopher.
“Come,” cried Ripton, “at all events, tell us where you’re going to stop.”
Richard faced about to make a querulous retort. The injured and hapless visage that met his eye disarmed123 him. The lad’s nose, though not exactly of the dreaded hue124, was really becoming discoloured. To upbraid125 him would be cruel. Richard lifted his head, surveyed the position, and exclaiming “Here!” dropped down on a withered126 bank, leaving Ripton to contemplate127 him as a puzzle whose every new move was a worse perplexity.
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收听单词发音
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1
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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2
resound
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| v.回响 | |
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3
slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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4
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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5
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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smacking
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| 活泼的，发出响声的，精力充沛的 | |
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7
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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8
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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9
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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10
remonstrances
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| n.抱怨，抗议( remonstrance的名词复数 ) | |
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11
boor
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| n.举止粗野的人；乡下佬 | |
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12
enlisting
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| v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的现在分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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13
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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14
shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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15
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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16
bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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17
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
epithet
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| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
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barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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22
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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23
interrogating
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| n.询问技术v.询问( interrogate的现在分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
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24
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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obnoxious
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| adj.极恼人的，讨人厌的，可憎的 | |
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precipitately
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| adv.猛进地 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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30
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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32
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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colloquial
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| adj.口语的，会话的 | |
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gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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38
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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39
truce
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| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
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40
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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41
larch
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| n.落叶松 | |
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42
plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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43
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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44
appeased
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| 安抚，抚慰( appease的过去式和过去分词 )； 绥靖（满足另一国的要求以避免战争） | |
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45
demurred
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| v.表示异议，反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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47
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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48
eluded
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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49
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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50
trespass
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| n./v.侵犯，闯入私人领地 | |
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51
demesne
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| n.领域，私有土地 | |
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52
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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53
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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54
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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55
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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56
exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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57
portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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58
avenging
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| adj.报仇的，复仇的v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的现在分词 )；为…报复 | |
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59
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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60
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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61
flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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opprobrious
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| adj.可耻的，辱骂的 | |
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64
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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pinion
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| v.束缚；n.小齿轮 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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68
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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contortions
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| n.扭歪，弯曲；扭曲，弄歪，歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
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inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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75
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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76
pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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77
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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imperatively
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| adv.命令式地 | |
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81
spanking
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| adj.强烈的，疾行的；n.打屁股 | |
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82
despoiled
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| v.掠夺，抢劫( despoil的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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abysmal
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| adj.无底的，深不可测的，极深的；糟透的，极坏的；完全的 | |
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courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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87
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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defilement
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| n.弄脏，污辱，污秽 | |
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89
castigation
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| n.申斥，强烈反对 | |
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90
dishonour
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| n./vt.拒付（支票、汇票、票据等）；vt.凌辱，使丢脸；n.不名誉，耻辱，不光彩 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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consummate
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| adj.完美的；v.成婚；使完美 [反]baffle | |
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indignity
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| n.侮辱，伤害尊严，轻蔑 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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lapsing
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| v.退步( lapse的现在分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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notch
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| n.(V字形)槽口，缺口，等级 | |
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103
spanked
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| v.用手掌打( spank的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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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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106
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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107
dykes
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| abbr.diagonal wire cutters 斜线切割机n.堤( dyke的名词复数 )；坝；堰；沟 | |
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108
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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109
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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110
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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111
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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112
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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113
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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114
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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115
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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116
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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117
vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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118
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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119
vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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120
gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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121
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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122
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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123
disarmed
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| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
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124
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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125
upbraid
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| v.斥责，责骂，责备 | |
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126
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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127
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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