We have nothing to do with David until we find him, at the age of twenty, on the high road from his native place to the city of Boston, where his uncle, a small dealer7 in the grocery line, was to take him behind the counter. Be it enough to say that he was a native of New Hampshire, born of respectable parents, and had received an ordinary school education, with a classic finish by a year at Gilmanton Academy. After journeying on foot from sunrise till nearly noon of a summer’s day, his weariness and the increasing heat determined8 him to sit down in the first convenient shade, and await the coming up of the stage-coach. As if planted on purpose for him, there soon appeared a little tuft of maples9, with a delightful11 recess12 in the midst, and such a fresh bubbling spring that it seemed never to have sparkled for any wayfarer13 but David Swan. Virgin14 or not, he kissed it with his thirsty lips, and then flung himself along the brink15, pillowing his head upon some shirts and a pair of pantaloons, tied up in a striped cotton handkerchief. The sunbeams could not reach him; the dust did not yet rise from the road after the heavy rain of yesterday; and his grassy16 lair17 suited the young man better than a bed of down. The spring murmured drowsily19 beside him; the branches waved dreamily across the blue sky overhead; and a deep sleep, perchance hiding dreams within its depths, fell upon David Swan. But we are to relate events which he did not dream of.
While he lay sound asleep in the shade, other people were wide awake, and passed to and fro, afoot, on horseback, and in all sorts of vehicles, along the sunny road by his bedchamber. Some looked neither to the right hand nor the left, and knew not that he was there; some merely glanced that way, without admitting the slumberer22 among their busy thoughts; some laughed to see how soundly he slept; and several, whose hearts were brimming full of scorn, ejected their venomous superfluity on David Swan. A middle-aged23 widow, when nobody else was near, thrust her head a little way into the recess, and vowed24 that the young fellow looked charming in his sleep. A temperance lecturer saw him, and wrought25 poor David into the texture26 of his evening’s discourse27, as an awful instance of dead drunkenness by the roadside. But censure28, praise, merriment, scorn, and indifference29 were all one, or rather all nothing, to David Swan.
He had slept only a few moments when a brown carriage, drawn30 by a handsome pair of horses, bowled easily along, and was brought to a standstill nearly in front of David’s resting-place. A linchpin had fallen out, and permitted one of the wheels to slide off. The damage was slight, and occasioned merely a momentary31 alarm to an elderly merchant and his wife, who were returning to Boston in the carriage. While the coachman and a servant were replacing the wheel, the lady and gentleman sheltered themselves beneath the maple10-trees, and there espied32 the bubbling fountain, and David Swan asleep beside it. Impressed with the awe33 which the humblest sleeped usually sheds around him, the merchant trod as lightly as the gout would allow; and his spouse34 took good heed35 not to rustle36 her silk gown, lest David should start up all of a sudden.
“How soundly he sleeps!” whispered the old gentleman. “From what a depth he draws that easy breath! Such sleep as that, brought on without an opiate, would be worth more to me than half my income; for it would suppose health and an untroubled mind.”
“And youth, besides,” said the lady. “Healthy and quiet age does not sleep thus. Our slumber21 is no more like his than our wakefulness.”
The longer they looked the more did this elderly couple feel interested in the unknown youth, to whom the wayside and the maple shade were as a secret chamber20, with the rich gloom of damask curtains brooding over him. Perceiving that a stray sunbeam glimmered37 down upon his face, the lady contrived38 to twist a branch aside, so as to intercept39 it. And having done this little act of kindness, she began to feel like a mother to him.
“Providence40 seems to have laid him here,” whispered she to her husband, “and to have brought us hither to find him, after our disappointment in our cousin’s son. Methinks I can see a likeness41 to our departed Henry. Shall we waken him?”
“To what purpose?” said the merchant, hesitating. “We know nothing of the youth’s character.”
“That open countenance42!” replied his wife, in the same hushed voice, yet earnestly. “This innocent sleep!”
While these whispers were passing, the sleeper43’s heart did not throb44, nor his breath become agitated45, nor his features betray the least token of interest. Yet Fortune was bending over him, just ready to let fall a burden of gold. The old merchant had lost his only son, and had no heir to his wealth except a distant relative, with whose conduct he was dissatisfied. In such cases, people sometimes do stranger things than to act the magician, and awaken46 a young man to splendor47 who fell asleep in poverty.
“Shall we not waken him?” repeated the lady persuasively48.
“The coach is ready, sir,” said the servant, behind.
The old couple started, reddened, and hurried away, mutually wondering that they should ever have dreamed of doing anything so very ridiculous. The merchant threw himself back in the carriage, and occupied his mind with the plan of a magnificent asylum49 for unfortunate men of business. Meanwhile, David Swan enjoyed his nap.
The carriage could not have gone above a mile or two, when a pretty young girl came along, with a tripping pace, which showed precisely50 how her little heart was dancing in her bosom51. Perhaps it was this merry kind of motion that caused — is there any harm in saying it? — her garter to slip its knot. Conscious that the silken girth — if silk it were — was relaxing its hold, she turned aside into the shelter of the maple-trees, and there found a young man asleep by the spring! Blushing as red as any rose that she should have intruded52 into a gentleman’s bedchamber, and for such a purpose, too, she was about to make her escape on tiptoe. But there was peril53 near the sleeper. A monster of a bee had been wandering overhead — buzz, buzz, buzz — now among the leaves, now flashing through the strips of sunshine, and now lost in the dark shade, till finally he appeared to be settling on the eyelid54 of David Swan. The sting of a bee is sometimes deadly. As free hearted as she was innocent, the girl attacked the intruder with her handkerchief, brushed him soundly, and drove him from beneath the mapleshade. How sweet a picture! This good deed accomplished55, with quickened breath, and a deeper blush, she stole a glance at the youthful stranger for whom she had been battling with a dragon in the air.
“He is handsome!” thought she, and blushed redder yet.
How could it be that no dream of bliss56 grew so strong within him, that, shattered by its very strength, it should part asunder57, and allow him to perceive the girl among its phantoms58? Why, at least, did no smile of welcome brighten upon his face? She was come, the maid whose soul, according to the old and beautiful idea, had been severed60 from his own, and whom, in all his vague but passionate61 desires, he yearned62 to meet. Her, only, could he love with a perfect love; him, only, could she receive into the depths of her heart; and now her image was faintly blushing in the fountain, by his side; should it pass away, its happy lustre63 would never gleam upon his life again.
“How sound he sleeps!” murmured the girl.
She departed, but did not trip along the road so lightly as when she came.
Now, this girl’s father was a thriving country merchant in the neighborhood, and happened, at that identical time, to be looking out for just such a young man as David Swan. Had David formed a wayside acquaintance with the daughter, he would have become the father’s clerk, and all else in natural succession. So here, again, had good fortune — the best of fortunes — stolen so near that her garments brushed against him; and he knew nothing of the matter.
The girl was hardly out of sight when two men turned aside beneath the maple shade. Both had dark faces, set off by cloth caps, which were drawn down aslant64 over their brows. Their dresses were shabby, yet had a certain smartness. These were a couple of rascals65 who got their living by whatever the devil sent them, and now, in the interim66 of other business, had staked the joint67 profits of their next piece of villany on a game of cards, which was to have been decided68 here under the trees. But, finding David asleep by the spring, one of the rogues69 whispered to his fellow,“Hist! — Do you see that bundle under his head?”
The other villain70 nodded, winked71, and leered.
“I’ll bet you a horn of brandy,” said the first, “that the chap has either a pocket-book, or a snug72 little hoard73 of small change, stowed away amongst his shirts. And if not there, we shall find it in his pantaloons pocket.”
“But how if he wakes?” said the other.
His companion thrust aside his waistcoat, pointed74 to the handle of a dirk, and nodded.
“So be it!” muttered the second villain.
They approached the unconscious David, and, while one pointed the dagger75 towards his heart, the other began to search the bundle beneath his head. Their two faces, grim, wrinkled, and ghastly with guilt76 and fear, bent77 over their victim, looking horrible enough to be mistaken for fiends, should he suddenly awake. Nay78, had the villains79 glanced aside into the spring, even they would hardly have known themselves as reflected there. But David Swan had never worn a more tranquil80 aspect, even when asleep on his mother’s breast.
“I must take away the bundle,” whispered one.
“If he stirs, I’ll strike,” muttered the other.
But, at this moment, a dog scenting81 along the ground, came in beneath the maple-trees, and gazed alternately at each of these wicked men, and then at the quiet sleeper. He then lapped out of the fountain.
“Pshaw!” said one villain. “We can do nothing now. The dog’s master must be close behind.”
“Let’s take a drink and be off,” said the other
The man with the dagger thrust back the weapon into his bosom, and drew forth82 a pocket pistol, but not of that kind which kills by a single discharge. It was a flask83 of liquor, with a block-tin tumbler screwed upon the mouth. Each drank a comfortable dram, and left the spot, with so many jests, and such laughter at their unaccomplished wickedness, that they might be said to have gone on their way rejoicing. In a few hours they had forgotten the whole affair, nor once imagined that the recording84 angel had written down the crime of murder against their souls, in letters as durable85 as eternity86. As for David Swan, he still slept quietly, neither conscious of the shadow of death when it hung over him, nor of the glow of renewed life when that shadow was withdrawn87.
He slept, but no longer so quietly as at first. An hour’s repose88 had snatched, from his elastic89 frame, the weariness with which many hours of toil90 had burdened it. Now he stirred — now, moved his lips, without a sound — now, talked, in an inward tone, to the noonday spectres of his dream. But a noise of wheels came rattling91 louder and louder along the road, until it dashed through the dispersing92 mist of David’s slumber-and there was the stage-coach. He started up with all his ideas about him.
“Halloo, driver! — Take a passenger?” shouted he.
“Room on top!” answered the driver.
Up mounted David, and bowled away merrily towards Boston, without so much as a parting glance at that fountain of dreamlike vicissitude3. He knew not that a phantom59 of Wealth had thrown a golden hue93 upon its waters — nor that one of Love had sighed softly to their murmur18 — nor that one of Death had threatened to crimson94 them with his blood — all, in the brief hour since he lay down to sleep. Sleeping or waking, we hear not the airy footsteps of the strange things that almost happen. Does it not argue a superintending Providence that, while viewless and unexpected events thrust themselves continually athwart our path, there should still be regularity95 enough in mortal life to render foresight96 even partially available?
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1
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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vicissitudes
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| n.变迁，世事变化；变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 )；盛衰兴废 | |
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vicissitude
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| n.变化，变迁，荣枯，盛衰 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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6
illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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maples
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| 槭树，枫树( maple的名词复数 )； 槭木 | |
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maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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wayfarer
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| n.旅人 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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drowsily
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| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
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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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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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slumberer
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| 睡眠者，微睡者 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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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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texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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censure
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| v./n.责备；非难；责难 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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espied
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| v.看到( espy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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spouse
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| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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intercept
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| vt.拦截，截住，截击 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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42
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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persuasively
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| adv.口才好地；令人信服地 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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51
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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intruded
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| n.侵入的，推进的v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的过去式和过去分词 )；把…强加于 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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54
eyelid
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| n.眼睑，眼皮 | |
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55
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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aslant
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| adv.倾斜地；adj.斜的 | |
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rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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interim
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| adj.暂时的，临时的；n.间歇，过渡期间 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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rogues
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| n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 )；无赖；调皮捣蛋的人；离群的野兽 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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hoard
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| n./v.窖藏，贮存，囤积 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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villains
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| n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 )；罪犯；（小说、戏剧等中的）反面人物；淘气鬼 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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scenting
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| vt.闻到（scent的现在分词形式） | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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84
recording
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| n.录音，记录 | |
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85
durable
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| adj.持久的，耐久的 | |
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86
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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87
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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88
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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89
elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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90
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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91
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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92
dispersing
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| adj. 分散的 动词disperse的现在分词形式 | |
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93
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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94
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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95
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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96
foresight
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| n.先见之明，深谋远虑 | |
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