This kind of talk irritated me, partly because I was jealous of an ecstasy3 which I could not understand, and partly because I had known Ruthita so many years that I thought I knew her exact value a good deal better than the Bantam. There was something very absurd, too, in the contrast between this gawky boy, with his downy face and clumsy hands, and these exaggerated expressions of sentiment. I began to avoid him; at that time I did not know why, but now I know it was because of the herd4 spirit which shuns5 abnormality.
Nevertheless he had stirred something latent within me. My days became haunted with alluring6 conjectures7; beneath the cold formality of human faces and manners I caught glimpses of a boisterous8 ruffianly passion. Sometimes it would repel9 me, making me unspeakably sad; but more often it swept me away in a torrent10 of inexplicable11 riotous12 happiness. I had come to an age when, shut him up as you may in the garden of unenlightenment, a boy must hear from beyond the walls the pagan pipes and the dancing feet of Pan.
Of nights I would lie awake, still and tense, reasoning my way forward and forward, out of the fairy tales of childhood into reality. Sometimes I would bury my face in my pillow, half glad and half ashamed of my strange, new knowledge. Now all the glory of the flesh in the Classics, which before had slipped by me when encountered as a schoolboy’s task, burned in my brain with the vehement13 fire of immemorial romance.
Old Sneard had a terrifying sermon, which he was fond of preaching on Sunday evenings when the chapel14 was full of shadows. His heated face, startlingly illumined by the pulpit-lamps, would take on the furious earnestness of an accusing angel as he leant out towards us describing the spiritual tortures of the damned. He spoke15 in symbolic16 language of the causes which led up to damnation. Until quite lately I had wondered what in the world he could be driving at. His text was, “Son of man, hast thou seen what the elders of the house of Israel do in the dark, every man in his chambers17 of imagery?” The grotesque18 unreality of likening a group of school-boys to the elders of Israel never occurred to me; I was too carried away by the reality of sin itself and the terror of what was said. When service was ended I would steal up the stone stairway to the dormitory in silence, almost fearful that my guilt19 might be betrayed by my shadow....
It was summer-time. Those of us who professed20 an interest in entomology were permitted during the hour between prep and supper to rove the country with butterfly-nets. The results of these expeditions were given to the school natural history museum; most of the boys hunted in pairs. Things being as they were between myself and the Bantam, I preferred to go by myself.
All day it had been raining. The sky was still damp with heavy clouds and the evening fell early. I slipped out into the cool wet dusk, eager to be solitary21. Some boys were kicking a ball and called to me to come and play with them. In my anxiety not to be delayed, I doubled up my fists and ran. They followed in pursuit, but soon their shouts and laughter grew fainter, till presently I was alone in a dim, green world. The air was exquisitely22 fragrant23 with earth and flower smells. Far away between the trees of Eden Hill a watery24 sunset faded palely. Nearer at hand dog-roses and convolvuli glimmered25 in the hedges.
I threw myself down in the dripping grass, lying full-length on my back, so that I could watch the stars struggle out between the edges of clouds. Oh, the sense of freedom and wideness, and the sheer joy of being at large in the world! I listened to the stillness of the twilight26, which is a stillness made up of an infinity27 of tiny sounds—birds settling into their nests, trees whispering together, and flowers drawing closer their fragile petals28 to shut out the cold night air. I told myself that all the little creatures of the fields and hedgerows were tucking one another safe in bed. Then, as if to contradict me, the sudden passion of the nightingale wandered down the stairway of the silence, each note separately poignant29, like glances of a lover who halts and looks back from every step as he descends30. From far away the passion was answered, and again it was returned.
A great White Admiral fluttered over my head. I picked up my net and was after it. So, in a second, the boy within me proved himself stronger than the man. But the butterfly refused to let me get near it and would never settle long enough for me to catch it.
I followed from field to field, till at last it came to the cricket-ground and made a final desperate effort to escape me by flying over the hedge into the private garden of Sneard’s house. His garden was forbidden territory, but the twilight made me bold to forget that. Breaking through the hedge I followed, running tiptoe down a path which ended in a summer-house. The White Admiral settled on a rosebush; I was in the act of netting it when I heard someone stirring. Standing31 in the doorway32 of the summerhouse was a girl about as tall as myself. We eyed one another through the dusk in silence. Her face was indistinct and in shadow.
“You don’t know how you frightened me.”
Directly she spoke I knew that she was not Beatrice Sneard, as I had dreaded33. Her voice was too friendly; it had in it the lazy caressing34 quality of a summer’s afternoon when bees are humming in and out of flowers. Her way of pronouncing words was halting and slightly foreign. In after years I came to know just how much power of temptation her voice possessed35.
“I suppose you’re not allowed in here,” she said; “but you needn’t worry—I shan’t tell.”
The boy in me prompted me to answer, “You can tell if you care to.”
She gave a secret little laugh. “But I shan’t.”
After all my gallant36 imaginings of what I would do on a like occasion, I stood before her awkwardly, tongue-tied and ungracious—so far removed are dreams from reality. The White Admiral, tired with the long pursuit, still clung to the rose’s petals. Across misty37 fields nightingales called, casting the love-spell, and the moon, in intermittent38 flashes, caused the dripping foliage39 to glisten40.
She rested her hand on my arm—such a small white hand—and drew me into the seclusion41 of the summerhouse.
“You’re not afraid of girls, are you?” she questioned, and then inconsequently, “I’m awfully42 lonely.”
There was a note of appeal in her tones, so I found my tongue and asked why she was lonely.
“Because I quarrel with Beatrice—we don’t get on together. Do you know, she thinks all you boys are simply horrid43 persons?”
“Perhaps we are,” I said. “Most people think that.”
“But I don’t,” she answered promptly44.
Gradually my constraint45 left me. She had an easy kindness and assurance in her manner that I had never found in any other girl. She slipped her hand into mine; made bold by the darkness of the summer-house, I held it tightly.
“I like you. I like you very much,” she whispered.
“But you’ve never spoken to me before. Why should you like the?”
She turned her face to mine, so that our lips were quite near together. “I suppose because I’m a girl.”
The bell for supper began to ring. I pretended not to hear it. Through the roses across the lawn I saw Sneard stand in his study-window, struggling into his gown. Then the window became dark and I knew that he had gone to read evening prayers.
“The bell is ringing,” she said at last. “If you don’t go, you’ll get punished.”
“If it’s for your sake, I don’t care.”
She pushed me gently from her. “Go away now. If you get into trouble, you’ll not be able to come back tomorrow.”
She ran down the path with me as far as the hedge. The bell was at its last strokes, swinging slower and slower. At the hedge we halted. I knew what I wanted to do; my whole body ached to take her in my arms and kiss her. But something stronger than will—the habit of restraint—prevented. Some paces away on the other side of the hedge I remembered that I did not even know her name. Without halting I called back to her questioning, and as I ran the answer followed me through the shadows, “Fiesole.”
After the monitors had come up and the lights had been put out, I waited for an hour till all the dormitory was sleeping; then, very stealthily, I edged myself out of bed. Standing upright, I listened to make sure that I was undetected. I stole out into the corridor bare-foot. I feared to dress lest anyone should be aroused. In my long linen46 night-gown I tiptoed down the corridor, down the stairs, and entered the fifth-form class-room. Throwing up the window I climbed out.
An English summer’s night lay before me in all its silver splendor—huge shadows of trees, scented47 coolness of the air, and damp smoothness of turf beneath my tread. The exultation48 of life’s bigness and cleanness came upon me. I knew now that it was right to be proud of the body and to love the body. Oh, why had it been left to a glimpse in the dusk of a young girl’s face to teach me that? At a rush I had become possessed of all the codes of mediaeval chivalry49. Every woman, however old or unpleasing, was for Fiesole’s sake most perfect—a person to be worshiped; for in serving her I should be serving Fiesole. What a name to have! How all her perfectness was summed up in the beauty of those full vowel50 sounds, Fi-es-sol-le.
I trespassed51 again in the garden. In the quiet of the rose-scented night I entered the summer-house.
Far away the nightingales sang on. There were words to their chanting now and their song was no, longer melancholy52. And these were the words as I heard them: “Fiesole—Fiesole—Fiesole. Love in the world. Love in the world. Glad—glad—glad.”
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1
maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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5
shuns
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| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的第三人称单数 ) | |
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6
alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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conjectures
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| 推测，猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
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boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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repel
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| v.击退，抵制，拒绝，排斥 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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12
riotous
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| adj.骚乱的；狂欢的 | |
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13
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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14
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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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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symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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18
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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21
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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23
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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24
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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25
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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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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27
infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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29
poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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30
descends
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| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
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31
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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32
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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33
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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34
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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35
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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36
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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intermittent
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| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
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39
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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40
glisten
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| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
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41
seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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42
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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43
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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44
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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45
constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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46
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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47
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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48
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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49
chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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50
vowel
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| n.元音；元音字母 | |
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51
trespassed
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| （trespass的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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52
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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