And I must live, for Buckingham commends.
POPE.
The spacious1 mansion2 of the Duke of Buckingham, with the demesne3 belonging to it, originally bore the name of York House and occupied a large portion of the ground adjacent to the Savoy.
This had been laid out by the munificence4 of his father, the favourite of Charles the First, in a most splendid manner, so as almost to rival Whitehall itself. But during the increasing rage for building new streets, and the creating of almost an additional town, in order to connect London and Westminster, this ground had become of very great value; and the second Duke of Buckingham, who was at once fond of scheming, and needy5 of money, had agreed to a plan laid before him by some adventurous6 architect, for converting the extensive grounds around his palace into those streets, lanes, and courts, which still perpetuate7 his name and titles; though those who live in Buckingham Street, Duke Street, Villiers Street, or in Of-alley (for even that connecting particle is locally commemorated), probably think seldom of the memory of the witty8, eccentric, and licentious9 George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, whose titles are preserved in the names of their residence and its neighbourhood.
This building-plan the Duke had entered upon with all the eagerness which he usually attached to novelty. His gardens were destroyed — his pavilions levelled — his splendid stables demolished10 — the whole pomp of his suburban11 demesne laid waste, cumbered with ruins, and intersected with the foundations of new buildings and cellars, and the process of levelling different lines for the intended streets. But the undertaking12, although it proved afterwards both lucrative13 and successful, met with a check at the outset, partly from want of the necessary funds, partly from the impatient and mercurial15 temper of the Duke, which soon carried him off in pursuit of some more new object. So that, though much was demolished, very little, in comparison, was reared up in the stead, and nothing was completed. The principal part of the ducal mansion still remained uninjured; but the demesne in which it stood bore a strange analogy to the irregular mind of its noble owner. Here stood a beautiful group of exotic trees and shrubs16, the remnant of the garden, amid yawning common-sewers, and heaps of rubbish. In one place an old tower threatened to fall upon the spectator; and in another he ran the risk of being swallowed up by a modern vault17. Grandeur18 of conception could be discovered in the undertaking, but was almost everywhere marred19 by poverty or negligence20 of execution. In short, the whole place was the true emblem21 of an understanding and talents run to waste, and become more dangerous than advantageous22 to society, by the want of steady principle, and the improvidence23 of the possessor.
There were men who took a different view of the Duke’s purpose in permitting his mansion to be thus surrounded, and his demesne occupied by modern buildings which were incomplete, and ancient which were but half demolished. They alleged24, that, engaged as he was in so many mysteries of love and of politics, and having the character of the most daring and dangerous intriguer25 of his time, his Grace found it convenient to surround himself with this ruinous arena27, into which officers of justice could not penetrate28 without some difficulty and hazard; and which might afford, upon occasion, a safe and secret shelter for such tools as were fit for desperate enterprises, and a private and unobserved mode of access to those whom he might have any special reason for receiving in secret.
Leaving Peveril in the Tower, we must once more convey our readers to the Levee of the Duke, who, on the morning of Julian’s transference to that fortress29, thus addressed his minister-inchief, and principal attendant: “I have been so pleased with your conduct in this matter, Jerningham, that if Old Nick were to arise in our presence, and offer me his best imp14 as a familiar in thy room, I would hold it but a poor compliment.”
“A legion of imps,” said Jerningham, bowing, “could not have been more busy than I in your Grace’s service; but if your Grace will permit me to say so, your whole plan was well-nigh marred by your not returning home till last night, or rather this morning.”
“And why, I pray you, sage30 Master Jerningham,” said his Grace, “should I have returned home an instant sooner than my pleasure and convenience served?”
“Nay, my Lord Duke,” replied the attendant, “I know not; only, when you sent us word by Empson, in Chiffinch’s apartment, to command us to make sure of the girl at any rate, and at all risks, you said you would be here so soon as you could get freed of the King.”
“Freed of the King, you rascal31! What sort of phrase is that?” demanded the Duke.
“It was Empson who used it, my lord, as coming from your Grace.”
“There is much very fit for my Grace to say, that misbecomes such mouths as Empson’s or yours to repeat,” answered the Duke haughtily32, but instantly resumed his tone of familiarity, for his humour was as capricious as his pursuits. “But I know what thou wouldst have; first, your wisdom would know what became of me since thou hadst my commands at Chiffinch’s; and next, your valour would fain sound another flourish of trumpets33 on thine own most artificial retreat, leaving thy comrade in the hands of the Philistines34.”
“May it please your Grace,” said Jerningham, “I did but retreat for the preservation35 of the baggage.”
“What! do you play at crambo with me?” said the Duke. “I would have you to know that the common parish fool should be whipt, were he to attempt to pass pun or quodlibet as a genuine jest, even amongst ticket-porters and hackney chairmen.”
“And yet I have heard your Grace indulge in the jeu de mots,” answered the attendant.
“Sirrah Jerningham,” answered the patron, “discard they memory, or keep it under correction, else it will hamper37 thy rise in the world. Thou mayst perchance have seen me also have a fancy to play at trap-ball, or to kiss a serving wench, or to guzzle38 ale and eat toasted cheese in a porterly whimsy39; but is it fitting thou shouldst remember such follies40? No more on’t. — Hark you; how came the long lubberly fool, Jenkins, being a master of the noble science of defence, to suffer himself to be run through the body so simply by a rustic41 swain like this same Peveril?”
“Please your Grace, this same Corydon is no such novice42. I saw the onset43; and, except in one hand, I never saw a sword managed with such life, grace, and facility.”
“Ay, indeed?” said the Duke, taking his own sheathed44 rapier in his hand, “I could not have thought that. I am somewhat rusted45, and have need of breathing. Peveril is a name of note. As well go to the Barns-elms, or behind Montagu House, with him as with another. His father a rumoured46 plotter, too. The public would have noted48 it in me as becoming a zealous49 Protestant. Needful I do something to maintain my good name in the city, to atone50 for non-attendance on prayer and preaching. But your Laertes is fast in the Fleet; and I suppose his blundering blockhead of an antagonist51 is dead or dying.”
“Recovering, my lord, on the contrary,” replied Jerningham; “the blade fortunately avoided his vitals.”
“D— n his vitals!” answered the Duke. “Tell him to postpone52 his recovery, or I will put him to death in earnest.”
“I will caution his surgeon,” said Jerningham, “which will answer equally well.”
“Do so; and tell him he had better be on his own deathbed as cure his patient till I send him notice. — That young fellow must be let loose again at no rate.”
“There is little danger,” said the attendant. “I hear some of the witnesses have got their net flung over him on account of some matters down in the north; and that he is to be translated to the Tower for that, and for some letters of the Countess of Derby, as rumour47 goes.”
“To the Tower let him go, and get out as he can,” replied the Duke; “and when you hear he is fast there, let the fencing fellow recover as fast as the surgeon and he can mutually settle it.”
The Duke, having said this, took two or three turns in the apartment, and appeared to be in deep thought. His attendant waited the issue of his meditations53 with patience, being well aware that such moods, during which his mind was strongly directed in one point, were never of so long duration with his patron as to prove a severe burden to his own patience.
Accordingly, after the silence of seven or eight minutes, the Duke broke through it, taking from the toilette a large silk purse, which seemed full of gold. “Jerningham,” he said, “thou art a faithful fellow, and it would be sin not to cherish thee. I beat the King at Mall on his bold defiance54. The honour is enough for me; and thou, my boy, shalt have the winnings.”
Jerningham pocketed the purse with due acknowledgements.
“Jerningham,” his Grace continued, “I know you blame me for changing my plans too often; and on my soul I have heard you so learned on the subject, that I have become of your opinion, and have been vexed55 at myself for two or three hours together, for not sticking as constantly to one object, as doubtless I shall, when age (touching his forehead) shall make this same weathercock too rusty56 to turn with the changing breeze. But as yet, while I have spirit and action, let it whirl like the vane at the mast-head, which teaches the pilot how to steer57 his course; and when I shift mine, think I am bound to follow Fortune, and not to control her.”
“I can understand nothing from all this, please your Grace,” replied Jerningham, “save that you have been pleased to change some purposed measures, and think that you have profited by doing so.”
“You shall judge yourself,” replied the Duke. “I have seen the Duchess of Portsmouth. — You start. It is true, by Heaven! I have seen her, and from sworn enemies we have become sworn friends. The treaty between such high and mighty58 powers had some weighty articles; besides, I had a French negotiator to deal with; so that you will allow a few hours’ absence was but a necessary interval59 to make up our matters of diplomacy60.”
“Your Grace astonishes me,” said Jerningham. “Christian61’s plan of supplanting62 the great lady is then entirely63 abandoned? I thought you had but desired to have the fair successor here, in order to carry it on under your own management.”
“I forgot what I meant at the time,” said the Duke; “unless that I was resolved she should not jilt me as she did the good-natured man of royalty64; and so I am still determined65, since you put me in mind of the fair Dowsabelle. But I had a contrite66 note from the Duchess while we were at the Mall. I went to see her, and found her a perfect Niobe. — On my soul, in spite of red eyes and swelled67 features, and dishevelled hair, there are, after all, Jerningham, some women who do, as the poets say, look lovely in affliction. Out came the cause; and with such humility68, such penitence69, such throwing herself on my mercy (she the proudest devil, too, in the whole Court), that I must have had heart of steel to resist it all. In short, Chiffinch in a drunken fit had played the babbler, and let young Saville into our intrigue26. Saville plays the rogue70, and informs the Duchess by a messenger, who luckily came a little late into the market. She learned, too, being a very devil for intelligence, that there had been some jarring between the master and me about this new Phillis; and that I was most likely to catch the bird — as any one may see who looks on us both. It must have been Empson who fluted71 all this into her Grace’s ear; and thinking she saw how her ladyship and I could hunt in couples, she entreats72 me to break Christian’s scheme, and keep the wench out of the King’s sight, especially if she were such a rare piece of perfection as fame has reported her.”
“And your Grace has promised her your hand to uphold the influence which you have so often threatened to ruin?” said Jerningham.
“Ay, Jerningham; my turn was as much served when she seemed to own herself in my power, and cry me mercy. — And observe, it is all one to me by which ladder I climb into the King’s cabinet. That of Portsmouth is ready fixed73 — better ascend74 by it than fling it down to put up another — I hate all unnecessary trouble.”
“And Christian?” said Jerningham.
“May go to the devil for a self-conceited ass36. One pleasure of this twist of intrigue is, to revenge me of that villain75, who thought himself so essential, that, by Heaven! he forced himself on my privacy, and lectured me like a schoolboy. Hang the cold-blooded hypocritical vermin! If he mutters, I will have his nose slit76 as wide as Coventry’s.*— Hark ye, is the Colonel come?”
“I expect him every moment, your Grace,”
* The ill-usage of Sir John Coventry by some of the Life Guardsmen, in revenge of something said in Parliament concerning the King’s theatrical77 amours, gave rise to what was called Coventry’s Act, against cutting and maiming the person.
“Send him up when he arrives,” said the Duke. ——“Why do you stand looking at me? What would you have?”
“Your Grace’s direction respecting the young lady,” said Jerningham.
“Odd zooks,” said the Duke, “I had totally forgotten her. — Is she very tearful? — Exceedingly afflicted78?”
“She does not take on so violently as I have seen some do,” said Jerningham; “but for a strong, firm, concentrated indignation, I have seen none to match her.”
“Well, we will permit her to cool. I will not face the affliction of a second fair one immediately. I am tired of snivelling, and swelled eyes, and blubbered cheeks for some time; and, moreover, must husband my powers of consolation79. Begone, and send the Colonel.”
“Will your Grace permit me one other question?” demanded his confidant.
“Ask what thou wilt80, Jerningham, and then begone.”
“Your Grace has determined to give up Christian,” said the attendant. “May I ask what becomes of the kingdom of Man?”
“Forgotten, as I have a Christian soul!” said the Duke; “as much forgotten as if I had never nourished that scheme of royal ambition. — D— n it, we must knit up the ravelled skein of that intrigue. — Yet it is but a miserable81 rock, not worth the trouble I have been bestowing82 on it; and for a kingdom — it has a sound indeed; but, in reality, I might as well stick a cock-chicken’s feather into my hat, and call it a plume83. Besides, now I think upon it, it would scarce be honourable84 to sweep that petty royalty out of Derby’s possession. I won a thousand pieces of the young Earl when he was last here, and suffered him to hang about me at Court. I question if the whole revenue of his kingdom is worth twice as much. Easily I could win it of him, were he here, with less trouble than it would cost me to carry on these troublesome intrigues85 of Christian’s.”
“If I may be permitted to say so, please your Grace,” answered Jerningham, “although your Grace is perhaps somewhat liable to change your mind, no man in England can afford better reasons for doing so.”
“I think so myself, Jerningham,” said the Duke; “and it may be it is one reason for my changing. One likes to vindicate86 his own conduct, and to find out fine reasons for doing what one has a mind to. — And now, once again, begone. Or, hark ye — hark ye — I shall need some loose gold. You may leave the purse I gave you; and I will give you an order for as much, and two years’ interest, on old Jacob Doublefee.”
“As your Grace pleases,” said Jerningham, his whole stock of complaisance87 scarcely able to conceal88 his mortification89 at exchanging for a distant order, of a kind which of late had not been very regularly honoured, the sunny contents of the purse which had actually been in his pocket. Secretly, but solemnly did he make a vow90, that two years’ interest alone should not be the compensation for this involuntary exchange in the form of his remuneration.
As the discontented dependant91 left the apartment, he met, at the head of the grand staircase, Christian himself, who, exercising the freedom of an ancient friend of the house, was making his way, unannounced, to the Duke’s dressing92 apartment. Jerningham, conjecturing93 that his visit at this crisis would be anything but well timed, or well taken, endeavoured to avert94 his purpose by asserting that the Duke was indisposed, and in his bedchamber; and this he said so loud that his master might hear him, and, if he pleased, realise the apology which he offered in his name, by retreating into the bedroom as his last sanctuary95, and drawing the bolt against intrusion.
But, far from adopting a stratagem96 to which he had had recourse on former occasions, in order to avoid those who came upon him, though at an appointed hour, and upon business of importance, Buckingham called, in a loud voice, from his dressing apartment, commanding his chamberlain instantly to introduce his good friend Master Christian, and censuring97 him for hesitating for an instant to do so.
“Now,” thought Jerningham within himself, “if Christian knew the Duke as well as I do, he would sooner stand the leap of a lion, like the London ‘prentice bold, than venture on my master at this moment, who is even now in a humour nearly as dangerous as the animal.”
He then ushered98 Christian into his master’s presence, taking care to post himself within earshot of the door.
点击收听单词发音
1 spacious | |
adj.广阔的,宽敞的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 mansion | |
n.大厦,大楼;宅第 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 demesne | |
n.领域,私有土地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 munificence | |
n.宽宏大量,慷慨给与 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 needy | |
adj.贫穷的,贫困的,生活艰苦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 adventurous | |
adj.爱冒险的;惊心动魄的,惊险的,刺激的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 perpetuate | |
v.使永存,使永记不忘 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 witty | |
adj.机智的,风趣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 licentious | |
adj.放纵的,淫乱的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 demolished | |
v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 );推翻;拆毁(尤指大建筑物);吃光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 suburban | |
adj.城郊的,在郊区的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 undertaking | |
n.保证,许诺,事业 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 lucrative | |
adj.赚钱的,可获利的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 imp | |
n.顽童 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 mercurial | |
adj.善变的,活泼的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 shrubs | |
灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 vault | |
n.拱形圆顶,地窖,地下室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 grandeur | |
n.伟大,崇高,宏伟,庄严,豪华 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 marred | |
adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 negligence | |
n.疏忽,玩忽,粗心大意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 emblem | |
n.象征,标志;徽章 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 advantageous | |
adj.有利的;有帮助的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 improvidence | |
n.目光短浅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 alleged | |
a.被指控的,嫌疑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 intriguer | |
密谋者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 intrigue | |
vt.激起兴趣,迷住;vi.耍阴谋;n.阴谋,密谋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 arena | |
n.竞技场,运动场所;竞争场所,舞台 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 penetrate | |
v.透(渗)入;刺入,刺穿;洞察,了解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 fortress | |
n.堡垒,防御工事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 sage | |
n.圣人,哲人;adj.贤明的,明智的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 rascal | |
n.流氓;不诚实的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 haughtily | |
adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 trumpets | |
喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 ); 小号; 喇叭形物; (尤指)绽开的水仙花 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 philistines | |
n.市侩,庸人( philistine的名词复数 );庸夫俗子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 preservation | |
n.保护,维护,保存,保留,保持 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 ass | |
n.驴;傻瓜,蠢笨的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 hamper | |
vt.妨碍,束缚,限制;n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 guzzle | |
v.狂饮,暴食 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 whimsy | |
n.古怪,异想天开 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 follies | |
罪恶,时事讽刺剧; 愚蠢,蠢笨,愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 novice | |
adj.新手的,生手的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 onset | |
n.进攻,袭击,开始,突然开始 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 sheathed | |
adj.雕塑像下半身包在鞘中的;覆盖的;铠装的;装鞘了的v.将(刀、剑等)插入鞘( sheathe的过去式和过去分词 );包,覆盖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 rusted | |
v.(使)生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 rumoured | |
adj.谣传的;传说的;风 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 rumour | |
n.谣言,谣传,传闻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 zealous | |
adj.狂热的,热心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 atone | |
v.赎罪,补偿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 antagonist | |
n.敌人,对抗者,对手 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 postpone | |
v.延期,推迟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 meditations | |
默想( meditation的名词复数 ); 默念; 沉思; 冥想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 defiance | |
n.挑战,挑衅,蔑视,违抗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 vexed | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 rusty | |
adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 steer | |
vt.驾驶,为…操舵;引导;vi.驾驶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 diplomacy | |
n.外交;外交手腕,交际手腕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 supplanting | |
把…排挤掉,取代( supplant的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 royalty | |
n.皇家,皇族 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 contrite | |
adj.悔悟了的,后悔的,痛悔的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 swelled | |
增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 ); 肿胀; (使)凸出; 充满(激情) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 humility | |
n.谦逊,谦恭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 penitence | |
n.忏悔,赎罪;悔过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 rogue | |
n.流氓;v.游手好闲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 fluted | |
a.有凹槽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 entreats | |
恳求,乞求( entreat的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 ascend | |
vi.渐渐上升,升高;vt.攀登,登上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 villain | |
n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 slit | |
n.狭长的切口;裂缝;vt.切开,撕裂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 theatrical | |
adj.剧场的,演戏的;做戏似的,做作的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 afflicted | |
使受痛苦,折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 consolation | |
n.安慰,慰问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 wilt | |
v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎;(指人)疲倦,衰弱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 bestowing | |
砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 plume | |
n.羽毛;v.整理羽毛,骚首弄姿,用羽毛装饰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 honourable | |
adj.可敬的;荣誉的,光荣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 intrigues | |
n.密谋策划( intrigue的名词复数 );神秘气氛;引人入胜的复杂情节v.搞阴谋诡计( intrigue的第三人称单数 );激起…的好奇心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 vindicate | |
v.为…辩护或辩解,辩明;证明…正确 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 complaisance | |
n.彬彬有礼,殷勤,柔顺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 mortification | |
n.耻辱,屈辱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 vow | |
n.誓(言),誓约;v.起誓,立誓 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 dependant | |
n.依靠的,依赖的,依赖他人生活者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 dressing | |
n.(食物)调料;包扎伤口的用品,敷料 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 conjecturing | |
v. & n. 推测,臆测 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 avert | |
v.防止,避免;转移(目光、注意力等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 sanctuary | |
n.圣所,圣堂,寺庙;禁猎区,保护区 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 stratagem | |
n.诡计,计谋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 censuring | |
v.指责,非难,谴责( censure的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 ushered | |
v.引,领,陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |