The days begin to lengthen1 sweet,
And every minute gained is joy,
And love stirs in the heart of a boy.
This is the time the sun, of late
Content to lie abed till eight,
Lifts up betimes his sleepy head,
And love stirs in the heart of a maid.
—Katherine Tynan Hinkson.
It was in the spring of 1640, just when King Charles had dissolved the Short Parliament, after its three weeks’ existence, that Hilary made a discovery. She possessed2 a voice, a voice which, after a few lessons from the Cathedral organist, proved to be a source of real pleasure to herself and others. This event meant much more to her than the fact that England had again relapsed into the woeful plight3 of the last eleven years, and was once more without a Parliament. At every spare minute she was practising her guitar, or singing scales and songs, and thus it very naturally fell about that Gabriel, returning from Oxford4 that summer, was greeted, as he hastened along the south walk to the little gate which made the boundary between the two gardens, by a song “more tuneable than lark6 to shepherd’s ear.” Stealing quietly forward, he could catch the words, which were set to the pathetic air of “Bara Fostus’ Dream”;
Come, sweet love, let sorrow cease,
Banish7 frowns, leave off dissension,
Love’s wars make the sweetest peace,
Hearts uniting by contention8.
Sunshine follows after rain,
Sorrows ceasing, this is pleasing,
All proves fair again,
After sorrow soon comes joy;
Try me, prove me, trust me, love me,
This will cure annoy.
The voice was a mezzo-soprano, with that strange gift of individual charm, without which far finer voices fail to please. It seemed to witch the very heart of the listener, and Gabriel, determined9 as he was not to disturb the song, was all on fire to see the singer.
As she played the interlude on the guitar at the end of the first verse he stole over the grass, and, climbing up the old filbert tree, swung himself noiselessly on to the wall, and looked down eagerly through the leafy branches. Not far off, at the opposite end of a grassy10 glade11, sat Hilary, her soft brown curls, held back by a snood of pink ribbon, but falling nevertheless about her comely12 face as she bent13 over the guitar. She wore a pale grey gown with dainty trimmings of pink, and the delicate colouring of her sweet womanly face made one think of apple-blossom.
Gabriel’s heart throbbed14 fast. Was this the child he had once teased? The companion he had sometimes wished a boy to share his rougher sports? The playmate he had quarrelled with so often, and kissed with careless kindliness15 when the dispute had ended? How had he ever dared to do it all? Then again the song thrilled him
Winter hides his frosty face,
Blushing now to be more viewed:
Spring return’d with pleasant grace,
Flora’s treasures are renewed;
Lambs rejoice to see the spring,
Skipping, leaping, sporting, playing,
Birds for joy do sing.
So let the spring of joy renew,
Laughing, colling, kissing, playing,
And give love his due.
Gabriel’s longing16 to see the singer’s downcast eyes almost overcame him but he waited while once more the bird-like voice rang through the quiet garden—
Then, sweet love, disperse17 this cloud,
That obscures this scornful coying;
When each creature sings aloud,
Filling hearts with over-joying.
As every bird doth choose her mate,
Gently billing, she is willing
Her true love to take.
With such words let us contend
(Laughing, colling, kissing, playing),
So our strife18 shall end.
Gabriel swung himself down by the filbert tree, brushed the dust from his dark green doublet, set his broad-brimmed hat at the correct angle with unusual care, and made his way through the gate as though he had never climbed a tree or lounged upon a wall in his life.
Who would have dreamed that to walk down that familiar glade to greet Hilary, would ever have caused his throat to grow dry and his breath to come in so strange a fashion, for all the world as though he were running a race! At last she looked up, and with a glad cry rose to welcome him; the guitar slipped unheeded on to the grass, and both her hands caught his, while her dark grey eyes smiled in a way that fairly dazzled the youth, who had but just realised that he was her lover.
“So you have come from Oxford at last,” she cried. “How long it is since we met!” He stooped to kiss her hand.
“Surely it was in some other life!” he said, with a strange feeling that suddenly all things had become new.
She laughed gaily20 as they sat down side by side. “Here, at any rate, is the same old stone bench where you and I used to learn our lessons,” she said. “And yonder is the stump21 to which you tied my puppet the day you played at Smithfield martyrs22.”
“What a little brute23 I was.”
“You were a rare hand at teasing; but I’ll never forget it to you that you rescued my Bartholomew babe from the power of the dog. How the wretch24 bit your arm!”
“I am much indebted to him,” said Gabriel, smiling, “and would not for the world lose that honourable25 scar. Nothing would please me more than to suffer again in your service.”
His face was aglow26, and Hilary, with a little stirring of the heart, turned from him and plucked a rose from the great hush27 of sweet-briar growing near the bench.
There was a minute’s silence, broken by the snapping of one of her guitar strings28. She took a fresh string from the case, and was about to put it on, when she found the guitar quietly taken from her.
“Let me do that,” said Gabriel, pleadingly; and Hilary, with a novel sense of pleasure in being helped, allowed him to have his way, glancing now and again at his intent face, which was the same, yet not the the same, she had known all her life.
Truth to tell, Gabriel was no lover of books; he had not at all the look of the pallid29 student, and had burnt no midnight oil at Oxford. But the University life had changed him from boy to man, his chest was a good two inches broader from rowing; he had an air of health and vigour30, and the clearly-cut features, which were of the Roman type, had kept their refinement31, but had lost the stamp of physical delicacy32 they had once borne.
“How well I remember Nero’s onslaught that day,” said Hilary. “It was the day we heard of Sir John Eliot’s death in the Tower.”
“Did you hear that Mr. Valentine and Mr. Strode, who were imprisoned33 at the same time as Sir John Eliot, were released last January? They had been in gaol34 nigh upon eleven years,” said Gabriel; and as he looked up from the guitar, Hilary saw an indignant gleam in his hazel eyes which startled her.
“Now you look as you used to look when we quarrelled,” she said, smiling. “By the bye, what did we quarrel about the day the dog bit you? I have quite forgot.”
“We wrangled35 over something in the sun-trap,” said Gabriel, his eyes growing tender once more. “What was it?”
Laughingly they both turned their minds back to the days when they had been children together, and presently, in a flash, the whole scene came back to them. Once again Hilary saw her father’s look of amusement as she gave her childish explanation of the dispute, “I said I wouldn’t be Gabriel’s wife, but we have made it up again, and I have given him my promise.”
The colour surged up into her face as for an instant she met Gabriel’s eyes, for in their liquid depths she could read love and eager hope, and withal just a touch of the mirthful expression which she knew so well of old. She knew that he, too, had heard that voice from the past.
Dropping the briar rose and hastily taking the guitar, she began to tune5 the string he had just fixed36. The sound awoke Gabriel to the consciousness that they were not alone in the world, that the garden was no Garden of Eden, and that lovemaking was not so simple as in the days of their childhood. He remembered Mrs. Unett and Bishop37 Coke, who would assuredly have much to say as soon as this Midsummer’s dream had formed itself into words. “Sing to me,” he said, when the string at length was in tune. “So far I have but heard Bara Fostus from the other side of the wall—a sweet air, but somewhat melancholy38.”
Hilary racked her brain for a song which was not a love song, but failed to find anything better than “Phyllis on the New-Mown Hay,” which she sang with a spirit so gay and debonnair, and a voice so exquisitely40 fresh, that Gabriel’s passion was increased ten-fold. Like the lover in the song, he bid fair to be a most “faithful Damon,” and Hilary knew it, and wondered how it had come to pass that but an hour before they had been well content to think of each other merely as old friends and playfellows.
They were deep in conversation when, looking up, Hilary saw her grandfather slowly pacing down the garden. The Palace was not far from Mrs. Unett’s house, and the old man loved to escape from the state and ceremony that surrounded him, and to enjoy the quiet of his daughter’s home. Gabriel, who had been much away from Hereford, had only met the Bishop occasionally. But when at Oxford he had heard complaints of the tyranny, the mischief-making and the political intrigues41 of bishops42 in general, he had always looked on their own Bishop as a remarkable43 exception to the general rule. Glancing now at the stately old man, whose scholarly face bore a striking resemblance to that of his brother, Sir John Coke, the recently-dismissed Secretary of State, he knew that he was confronting the arbiter44 of his fate, and noted45 with relief the kindly46 look in the Bishop’s eyes as he caught sight of them.
“So, Mr. Harford, you are returned to us once more,” said the old man, giving him a courteous47 greeting. “I heard my granddaughter’s voice, but did not know of your arrival.”
“The plague is increasing at Oxford, my lord,” said Gabriel; “and it was thought best that we should not remain there. I returned to Brampton Bryan with Ned Harley.”
The name of Harley brought a shadow over the Bishop’s face, for Sir Robert’s Puritanism met with little favour in the county. He reflected with some uneasiness that Gabriel Harford was of the same persuasion48, in all probability, and not altogether a good companion for Hilary.
“Sing to us, child,” he said, glancing at his granddaughter and Hilary, who had noted his change of expression, began his favourite air
“Hark, hark, the lark at heaven’s gate sings!”
The song soon lulled49 the old Bishop into tranquility; he had taken out his ivory tablets with the intention of making some such entry as this: “Mem: to warn my daughter not to countenance50 any matrimonial proposal in respect of G. H. and Hilary.” For was it not well known that Dr. Harford had spoken strongly against the war in Scotland—“the Bishops’ war,” now in progress—and who could tell what difficulties might arise in the future? But somehow, as the song proceeded, he slid into a state of dreamy content, and noted instead on the tablets a fresh idea for his treatise52 on the Epistle to the Colossians, which was suggested in part by the music and in part by the faces of Gabriel and Hilary. He looked benevolently53 across at the two young people, his mind hovering54 betwixt heaven and earth and the grievous divisions of his day all forgot.
Thus it chanced that through the halcyon55 days of that wonderful summer, Gabriel wooed Hilary in peace until, one morning, early in September, he found the present not sufficient for him, but must needs try to ensure the future, and hear from her own lips the promise that would set him at rest.
They had been out riding with the doctor, but had found the day hot, and, leaving the horses with the groom56, had wandered across a bit of wild country bordering the road, to find rest and shelter in a little wood. Great beech57 trees made a solemn shade over the russet carpet of last year’s leaves, and here and there the sunbeams slanting58 through the branches turned the russet to gold and threw a silvery sheen over the brake fern growing around. The robins59 sang cheerfully overhead, and now and then a squirrel would dance from branch to branch scampering61 the faster as it caught sight of the two intruders resting in the shade beneath.
The very quiet of the place made Gabriel think involuntarily of the strange contrast to be found in “towered cities” amid “the busy hum of men.” Surely never again would he find so sweet a paradise in which to speak his love. The audacity62 of his childhood filled him now with amaze. What would he not have given for the easy flow of words which had then been at his command?
“This is perfection,” said Hilary, taking off her hat and fanning herself leisurely63 with a great fern.
“There is one thing wanting,” said Gabriel.
“You are exacting,” said Hilary, with a little rippling64 laugh. “What more can heart desire?”
“A bliss65 that would last,” said Gabriel, his voice trembling.
“Ah! but that is asking too much,” she answered, musingly66. “Nothing lasts.”
“Nothing but love,” he said, in a tone that made her lift her eyes to his, and speedily drop them.
The colour rushed to her face, but her confusion seemed to cheer him.
“Hilary,” he exclaimed, “do you not know that I love you? You who first wakened love in me—who first made me truly live—surely you must know? I love you with all my being; only be mine—be mine.”
“I am your friend,” she faltered—“have ever been your friend.”
“Friendship is not enough,” he said, eagerly; “that was for childish days, but now—now—it is death to me to be without you. I am yours, body and soul. Give me hope, Hilary; give me hope!”
She raised her head and looked into his eager, hazel eyes, reading there the utter devotion of a first genuine passion, “I give you my heart,” she said in a voice so soft that the words seemed more breathed than spoken, and the robin60 which had been the sole spectator of this love scene ventured a little nearer, even as she spoke51, only taking flight when Gabriel caught her in his arms for what seemed the first kiss he had ever given her, so strangely did it differ from the careless salute67 of their childhood.
The robin sang overhead now, and sang so blithely68 that even the happy lovers gave heed19 to the song.
“’Tis the sweetest I ever heard,” said Hilary. “Or is it that all things seem more beautiful because of love?”
“That must be it. Hitherto we have but dreamed; now we are awake, and this is the joy that lasts.”
So they lived through that exquisite39 dawn of love, and their bliss knew no alloy69 until the ruthless groom strode into the wood.
“I ha’ tethered the horses to the gibbet, sir,” he said to Gabriel, “and ha’ come to tell ye that the doctor is in sight.”
The lovers started to their feet. Suddenly to see Simon’s uncomprehending face; suddenly to hear the ill-omened word “gibbet,” roused them roughly enough from their paradise. They hurriedly left the little wood, not once even looking back, for was not Simon tramping heavily behind them, driving them forth70 into the thorns and thistles of the world just as effectually as if he had been the angel with the flaming sword!
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
lengthen
|
|
| vt.使伸长，延长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
plight
|
|
| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
Oxford
|
|
| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
tune
|
|
| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
lark
|
|
| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
banish
|
|
| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
contention
|
|
| n.争论，争辩，论战；论点，主张 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
grassy
|
|
| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
glade
|
|
| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
comely
|
|
| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
throbbed
|
|
| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
kindliness
|
|
| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
disperse
|
|
| vi.使分散；使消失；vt.分散；驱散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
strife
|
|
| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
heed
|
|
| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
gaily
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
stump
|
|
| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
martyrs
|
|
| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
wretch
|
|
| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
honourable
|
|
| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
aglow
|
|
| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
hush
|
|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
strings
|
|
| n.弦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
pallid
|
|
| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
vigour
|
|
| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
refinement
|
|
| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
imprisoned
|
|
| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
gaol
|
|
| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
wrangled
|
|
| v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
bishop
|
|
| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
exquisitely
|
|
| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
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： |
|
|
|
|
42
bishops
|
|
| （基督教某些教派管辖大教区的）主教( bishop的名词复数 )； （国际象棋的）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
arbiter
|
|
| n.仲裁人，公断人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
courteous
|
|
| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
persuasion
|
|
| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
lulled
|
|
| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
treatise
|
|
| n.专著；(专题)论文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
benevolently
|
|
| adv.仁慈地，行善地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
hovering
|
|
| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
halcyon
|
|
| n.平静的，愉快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
groom
|
|
| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
beech
|
|
| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
slanting
|
|
| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
robins
|
|
| n.知更鸟，鸫( robin的名词复数 )；（签名者不分先后，以避免受责的）圆形签名抗议书（或请愿书） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
robin
|
|
| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
scampering
|
|
| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
audacity
|
|
| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
leisurely
|
|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
rippling
|
|
| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
bliss
|
|
| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
musingly
|
|
| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
67
salute
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
blithely
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，快活地，无挂虑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
alloy
|
|
| n.合金，(金属的)成色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |