Romola discerned a wish in this intimation, and immediately assented4. But presently, coming back in her hood5 and mantle6, she said, ‘Oh, what a long breath Florence will take when the gates are flung open, and the last Frenchman is walking out of them! Even you are getting tired, with all your patience, my Tito; confess it. Ah, your head is hot.’
He was leaning over his desk, writing, and she had laid her hand on his head, meaning to give a parting caress7. The attitude had been a frequent one, and Tito was accustomed, when he felt her hand there, to raise his head, throw himself a little backward, and look up at her. But he felt now as unable to raise his head as if her hand had been a leaden cowl. He spoke8 instead, in a light tone, as his pen still ran along.
‘The French are as ready to go from Florence as the wasps9 to leave a ripe pear when they have just fastened on it.’
Romola, keenly sensitive to the absence of the usual response, took away her hand and said, ‘I am going, Tito.’
‘Farewell, my sweet one. I must wait at home. Take Maso with you.’
Still Tito did not look up, and Romola went out without saying any more. Very slight things make epochs in married life, and this morning for the first time she admitted to herself not only that Tito had changed, but that he had changed towards her. Did the reason lie in herself? She might perhaps have thought so, if there had not been the facts of the armour10 and the picture to suggest some external event which was an entire mystery to her.
But Tito no sooner believed that Romola was out of the house than he laid down his pen and looked up, in delightful11 security from seeing anything else than parchment and broken marble. He was rather disgusted with himself that he had not been able to look up at Romola and behave to her just as usual. He would have chosen, if he could, to be even more than usually kind; but he could not, on a sudden, master an involuntary shrinking from her, which, by a subtle relation, depended on those very characteristics in him that made him desire not to fail in his marks of affection. He was about to take a step which he knew would arouse her deep indignation; he would have to encounter much that was unpleasant before he could win her forgiveness. And Tito could never find it easy to face displeasure and anger; his nature was one of those most remote from defiance12 or impudence13, and all his inclinations14 leaned towards preserving Romola’s tenderness. He was not tormented15 by sentimental16 scruples17 which, as he had demonstrated to himself by a very rapid course of argument, had no relation to solid utility; but his freedom from scruples did not release him from the dread18 of what was disagreeable. Unscrupulousness gets rid of much, but not of toothache, or wounded vanity, or the sense of loneliness, against which, as the world at present stands, there is no security but a thoroughly19 healthy jaw20, and a just, loving soul. And Tito was feeling intensely at this moment that no devices could save him from pain in the impending21 collision with Romola; no persuasive22 blandness23 could cushion him against the shock towards which he was being driven like a timid animal urged to a desperate leap by the terror of the tooth and the claw that are close behind it.
The secret feeling he had previously24 had that the tenacious25 adherence26 to Bardo’s wishes about the library had become under existing difficulties a piece of sentimental folly27, which deprived himself and Romola of substantial advantages, might perhaps never have wrought28 itself into action but for the events of the past week, which had brought at once the pressure of a new motive29 and the outlet30 of a rare opportunity. Nay31, it was not till his dread had been aggravated32 by the sight of Baldassarre looking more like his sane33 self, not until he had begun to feel that he might be compelled to flee from Florence, that he had brought himself to resolve on using his legal right to sell the library before the great opportunity offered by French and Milanese bidders34 slipped through his fingers. For if he had to leave Florence he did not want to leave it as a destitute35 wanderer. He had been used to an agreeable existence, and he wished to carry with him all the means at hand for retaining the same agreeable conditions. He wished among other things to carry Romola with him, and not, if possible, to carry any infamy36. Success had given him a growing appetite for all the pleasures that depend on an advantageous37 social position, and at no moment could it look like a temptation to him, but only like a hideous38 alternative, to decamp under dishonour39, even with a bag of diamonds, and incur40 the life of an adventurer. It was not possible for him to make himself independent even of those Florentines who only greeted him with regard; still less was it possible for him to make himself independent of Romola. She was the wife of his first love — he loved her still; she belonged to that furniture of life which he shrank from parting with. He winced41 under her judgment42, he felt uncertain how far the revulsion of her feeling towards him might go; and all that sense of power over a wife which makes a husband risk betrayals that a lover never ventures on, would not suffice to counteract43 Tito’s uneasiness. This was the leaden weight which had been too strong for his will, and kept him from raising his head to meet her eyes. Their pure light brought too near him the prospect44 of a coming struggle. But it was not to be helped; if they had to leave Florence, they must have money; indeed, Tito could not arrange life at all to his mind without a considerable sum of money. And that problem of arranging life to his mind had been the source of all his misdoing. He would have been equal to any sacrifice that was not unpleasant.
The rustling magnates came and went, the bargains had been concluded, and Romola returned home; but nothing grave was said that night. Tito was only gay and chatty, pouring forth45 to her, as he had not done before, stories and descriptions of what he had witnessed during the French visit. Romola thought she discerned an effort in his liveliness, and attributing it to the consciousness in him that she had been wounded in the morning, accepted the effort as an act of penitence46, inwardly aching a little at that sign of growing distance between them — that there was an offence about which neither of them dared to speak.
The next day Tito remained away from home until late at night. It was a marked day to Romola, for Piero di Cosimo, stimulated47 to greater industry on her behalf by the fear that he might have been the cause of pain to her in the past week, had sent home her father’s portrait. She had propped48 it against the back of his old chair, and had been looking at it for some time, when the door opened behind her, and Bernardo del Nero came in.
‘It is you, godfather! How I wish you had come sooner! it is getting a little dusk,’ said Romola, going towards him.
‘I have just looked in to tell you the good news, for I know Tito has not come yet,’ said Bernardo. ‘The French king moves off to-morrow: not before it is high time. There has been another tussle49 between our people and his soldiers this, morning. But there’s a chance now of the city getting into order once more and trade going on.’
‘That is joyful,’ said Romola. ‘But it is sudden, is it not? Tito seemed to think yesterday that there was little prospect of the king’s going soon.’
‘He has been well barked at, that’s the reason,’ said Bernardo, smiling. ‘His own generals opened their throats pretty well, and at last our Signoria sent the mastiff of the city, Fra Girolamo. The Cristianissimo was frightened at that thunder, and has given the order to move. I’m afraid there’ll be small agreement among us when he’s gone, but, at any rate, all parties are agreed in being glad not to have Florence stifled50 with soldiery any longer, and the Frate has barked this time to some purpose. Ah, what is this?’ he added, as Romola, clasping him by the arm, led him in front of the picture. ‘Let us see.’
He began to unwind his long scarf while she placed a seat for him.
‘Don’t you want your spectacles, godfather?’ said Romola, in anxiety that he should see just what she saw.
‘No, child, no,’ said Bernardo, uncovering his grey head, as he seated himself with firm erectness51. ‘For seeing at this distance, my old eyes are perhaps better than your young ones. Old men’s eyes are like old men’s memories; they are strongest for things a long way off.’
‘It is better than having no portrait,’ said Romola, apologetically, after Bernardo had been silent a little while. ‘It is less like him now than the image I have in my mind, but then that might fade with the years.’ She rested her arm on the old man’s shoulder as she spoke, drawn52 towards him strongly by their common interest in the dead.
‘I don’t know,’ said Bernardo. ‘I almost think I see Bardo as he was when he was young, better than that picture shows him to me as he was when he was old. Your father had a great deal of fire in his eyes when he was young. It was what I could never understand, that he, with his fiery53 spirit, which seemed much more impatient than mine, could hang over the books and live with shadows all his life. However, he had put his heart into that.’
Bernardo gave a slight shrug54 as he spoke the last words, but Romola discerned in his voice a feeling that accorded with her own.
‘And he was disappointed to the last,’ she said, involuntarily. But immediately fearing lest her words should be taken to imply an accusation55 against Tito, she went on almost hurriedly, ‘If we could only see his longest, dearest wish fulfilled just to his mind!’
‘Well, so we may,’ said Bernardo, kindly56, rising and putting on his cap. ‘The times are cloudy now, but fish are caught by waiting. Who knows? When the wheel has turned often enough, I may be Gonfaloniere yet before I die; and no creditor57 can touch these things.’ He looked round as he spoke. Then, turning to her, and patting her cheek, said, ‘And you need not be afraid of my dying; my ghost will claim nothing. I’ve taken care of that in my will.’
Romola seized the hand that was against her cheek, and put it to her lips in silence.
‘Haven’t you been scolding your husband for keeping away from home so much lately? I see him everywhere but here,’ said Bernardo, willing to change the subject.
She felt the flush spread over her neck and face as she said, ‘He has been very much wanted; you know he speaks so well. I am glad to know that his value is understood.’
‘You are contented58 then, Madonna Orgogliosa?” said Bernardo, smiling, as he moved to the door.
‘Assuredly.’
Poor Romola! There was one thing that would have made the pang59 of disappointment in her husband harder to bear; it was, that any one should know he gave her cause for disappointment. This might be a woman’s weakness, but it is closely allied60 to a woman’s nobleness. She who willingly lifts up the veil of her married life has profaned61 it from a sanctuary62 into a vulgar place.
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1
piazza
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| n.广场；走廊 | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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antiquities
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| n.古老( antiquity的名词复数 )；古迹；古人们；古代的风俗习惯 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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7
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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9
wasps
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| 黄蜂( wasp的名词复数 )； 胡蜂； 易动怒的人； 刻毒的人 | |
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10
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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inclinations
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| 倾向( inclination的名词复数 )； 倾斜； 爱好； 斜坡 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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18
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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blandness
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| n.温柔，爽快 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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tenacious
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| adj.顽强的，固执的，记忆力强的，粘的 | |
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adherence
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| n.信奉，依附，坚持，固着 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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aggravated
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| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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bidders
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| n.出价者，投标人( bidder的名词复数 ) | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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advantageous
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| adj.有利的；有帮助的 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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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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40
incur
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| vt.招致，蒙受，遭遇 | |
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41
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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43
counteract
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| vt.对…起反作用，对抗，抵消 | |
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44
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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45
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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46
penitence
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| n.忏悔，赎罪；悔过 | |
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47
stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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48
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tussle
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| n.&v.扭打，搏斗，争辩 | |
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50
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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51
erectness
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| n.直立 | |
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52
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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53
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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54
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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55
accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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56
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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57
creditor
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| n.债仅人，债主，贷方 | |
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58
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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59
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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60
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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61
profaned
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| v.不敬( profane的过去式和过去分词 )；亵渎，玷污 | |
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62
sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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