Fragrant1 as the blushing rose;
Cure of sorrows, cure of woes2,
From it thou wilt3 win.
Ah! but Circe's cup deceives,
Evil spell its magic weaves,
To the fool who drinks--it leaves
The bitterness of sin.
One night Reginald and Beaumont were comfortably seated over their cigarettes and coffee in the smoking-room of the hotel, talking in a desultory4 kind of way about the news of the day, when Blake suddenly made a remark quite foreign to the conversation.
"I often wonder why you have never married, Beaumont," he said idly.
The artist shrugged5 his shoulders.
"It's not difficult to answer," he replied lightly. "I have never met any woman I particularly cared about."
"Wouldn't you like to be married?" asked Reginald.
"Humph! that depends. I'm afraid I'm past the age of cultivating the domestic virtues6. I am a cosmopolitan--a wanderer--no home would be pleasant to me for any length of time."
"But why don't you settle down?"
"Because the age of miracles is past. I'm one of those men who never know in what land they will lay their bones. No, no! I'm sadly afraid the domestic tea-urn and family circle are not for me."
It was curious to hear this man talk in such a cynical7 strain to his own son, but then Beaumont had been so long apart from his offspring that he almost regarded him as a stranger, and therefore spoke8 to him as such.
"I think you would be much happier married," observed Reginald.
"No doubt. You judge me by yourself. When you get married to Miss Challoner and settle down, your life will be a paradise, because long training has rendered you admirably suited to a domestic life. But I--ouf!--I would weary of the best woman in the world."
"What a curious man you are, Beaumont," said Blake, looking at him in a puzzled manner. "This life of yours in Town appears to me so unsatisfying. Everyone is on the move. Never a moment for rest or reflection, a constant striving after pleasure, and when that pleasure is gained, what is it but Dead Sea fruit? Now, on the other hand, I cannot imagine a more delightful9 life than one in the country. When I marry Una I will live at Garsworth Grange, bring up my children, if I am happy enough to become a father, take an interest in the dear old village, and enjoy my whole existence in a leisurely10, pleasant manner, which will give me far more enduring enjoyment11 than this rapid frivolous12 Town life."
"Your instincts are quite those of a patriarchal age," said Beaumont, with a scarcely concealed13 sneer14, "but of course I can hardly wonder at that. Many years of a highly artificial civilization have given me a distaste for your beau ideal of life, while the simplicity15 of your training has unfitted you for the gas and glitter of London. A man brought up on roast beef does not care for truffles, though, to be sure, roast beef is the more healthy of the two."
Reginald laughed at this extraordinary manner of arguing, but did not pursue the subject, and shortly afterwards the pair were whirling along in a hansom to the Totahoop Music Hall.
This establishment, which took its extraordinary name from an eminent16 comedian17 who first opened it as a place of entertainment, was one of the largest, handsomest, and most patronised music halls in town. It stood at one side of a large square and had a palatial18 appearance with its flight of marble steps, its enormous folding-doors and the view they afforded when open of tropical trees, nude19 white statues and gorgeous hangings of blue plush, all of which looked brilliant under the powerful radiance of the electric lights.
When the two gentlemen arrived the promenade20 was quite full of men and women, some talking loudly, others attending to the performance, and many crowding around the marble-topped counters of the various bars from which smiling barmaids dispensed21 cooling beverages22. The house was quite full and comparatively quiet, for the ballet of The Lorelei was now being danced, and the stage was filled with multitudes of pretty girls in costumes of pale green glittering with silver scales, who were swaying to and fro to a swinging waltz melody played by the orchestra.
"This is a very good ballet," observed Beaumont, as they took their seats in a private box, "both the scenery and the dances being excellent. Have a drink?"
"No, thank you," replied Blake listlessly, taking off his cloak, "I prefer watching the ballet."
He leaned out of the box and was soon deeply interested in the pantomimic action on the stage, while Beaumont swept the glittering horseshoe with his opera-glass to see if he could espy24 a friend. Very shortly he saw a man with whom he was well acquainted, and left the box with a muttered apology, while Reginald, absorbed in the ballet, took no notice of his departure.
Veils of pale green gauze were falling like a curtain in front of the stage, which was flooded with an emerald light, and away at the back could be seen the Sea Palace of the Lorelei, above which undulated the blue waves of the ocean. The daring young knight25 in silver armour26 was standing27 like a statue in the centre of the stage and round him the nymphs, linked hand in hand, were wreathing in mysterious evolutions, growing slower and slower till they all paused, grouped in graceful28 attitudes like living statues. A strange low chord from the orchestra and then there stole forth29 a weird30 subtle melody that seemed to possess a snake-like fascination31 as it arose and fell with shrill32 sounds of clarinet and violin. A sudden ripple33 as of silver bells and the fatal Rhine nymph glided34 on to the stage from a huge shell placed far back in the restless green water. Then there was a dance of fascination in which the knight resisted the allurements35 of the Lorelei, but the sleeping nymphs also awoke and re-commenced their dreamy dance, while through the swing and beat of the band there stole the strange wild piping of the Lorelei motif37. At last the knight yielded, there was a storm of somewhat discordant38 music and all the evil things of ocean came trooping on to the stage, dashing at length into a mad galop as they surged and rolled round the knight, now captive in the arms of the siren. A thick darkness spread over the scene and when the light broke again, the ocean halls had vanished and a merry crowd of peasants were dancing on a fair lawn to the piping of a shepherd.
Reginald did not like this latter scene so much, as it lacked the mysterious enticement39 of the former, and felt rather disappointed, but he was quite repaid by the last scene of the ballet, which represented the fatal Lorelei rock amid turbid40 waters under the pale light of the moon.
On the shore wandered the spell-enchained knight, and Blake thought of Heine's ballad41 with its foreboding beginning,
"Ich weiss nicht was soil is bedeuten,"
as the mysterious melody of the Lorelei began to once more steal from amid the sombre music of the orchestra. Lonely is the knight, for he loves naught42 on earth while the water witch has power over him. Shriller and shriller arose the melody and suddenly a white blaze of electric light envelopes the rock, upon which stands the siren, combing her marvellous locks of gold.
With mystic gestures she beckons43 the knight, he launches a boat and the waves rise white and threatening amid a storm of music from the orchestra, while overhead the thunder rolls and the lightning flashes. The boat reaches the rock, strikes, and in a moment the knight is struggling in the water with hands stretched out imploringly44 to the Water Witch. Darkness once more, then again the emerald light shines, showing the Halls of the Lorelei, who stands over the dead body of the knight, while around swing the river nymphs with floating hair and waving hands, then the shrill piping of the Lorelei motif sounds once more and the curtain falls.
"Well, what do you think of the ballet?" asked Beaumont, who had returned to the box and was watching with keen interest the dreamy look upon the young man's face.
"I think it is charming," replied Reginald, in whose head the mysterious melody of the Lorelei was still ringing, "but what a fool that knight was."
"Ah, do you think so?" rejoined the artist, lightly. "There I do not agree with you. Many a man has had his life wrecked45 by listening to the music of the Sea Witch. The legend of the Lorelei is simply an allegory of life."
"So is the legend of the Sirens, I suppose," said Blake listlessly.
"Of course the man who is drawn46 away from Nature by the alluring47 voice of the world always loses his happiness and genius."
"I don't think much of your world's singing," retorted Blake, a trifle cynically48. "It would never allure36 me."
"It's alluring you now," thought Beaumont, although he did not say so, but merely remarked, "Too much of modern sentimentality about it, perhaps, or you think the world's voice pipes too vulgar a ditty. There I agree with you, but, unfortunately, in this age we vulgarise everything; we drag forth the lovely mysterious dreams of medi?valism from their enchanted49 twilights into the broad blaze of day and then reject them in disgust because we are disillusionized. Ah, bah' the world of to-day, which reduces everything to plain figures, always puts me in mind of a child spoiling a drum to find out what's inside."
"Unpleasant, but true."
"The truth is always unpleasant my friend, that is why people so seldom tell it," said Beaumont, "but listen to this recitation, it's the best thing of the evening."
The reciter was a celebrated50 actress who had been induced to appear upon the music-hall platform by way of an experiment, to see if the ordinary audience of such a place would take to the higher form of art as exemplified by the recitation.
Simply dressed, with no scenic51 effect, but only her wonderful voice and strong dramatic instinct to rely on, the lady recited a touching52 little piece about a dying woman, and it was truly wonderful the effect it had upon the pleasure-loving audience. In spite of the attractions of comic songs, of pretty girls, of grotesque53 tumblers, and of daring gymnasts, the whole body of men and women yielded to the spell of the recitation. The poem was full of human nature, and the intensity54 of the reciter's voice carried the pathos55 of the pitiful little story home to everyone. The intense humanity of the tale, declaimed in a most dramatic way by an artist, came like a breath of cool mountain air into the perfumed close atmosphere of a ball-room, and the storm of applause which broke forth at the conclusion of the recitation showed how powerful genius is to move even the most blasé of humanity.
"That is a step in the right direction," said Beaumont as he left the music-hall with Reginald, "everyone prophesied56 failure for such an experiment, but you see the voice of the heart can always reach the heart. There is more culture even among music-hall audiences than we give them credit for."
"I don't think it's a question of culture at all," replied Blake bluntly; "that simple story declaimed in such a way would appeal to the lowest audience in Whitechapel.
"I daresay you are right," answered Beaumont idly, "a touch of nature makes the whole world akin23. I think it was Shakespeare who made that remark--wonderfully wise man--I should like to have seen him write a drama on the complex civilization of to-day."
"Our dramatists of to-day do their best."
"No doubt, but they write on such frivolous subjects. If they took up a broad question of the time and placed it before us in the form of a play they might evolve a new style of drama fitted to be handed down to posterity57 but when they concern themselves only with the drama of little things their ideas are as ephemeral as their plays. No, this is only the age of scientific discovery, not the time of poetic58 imaginings."
Thus talking, they strolled along the crowded streets, and turned into a supper-room, where they had a comfortable meal. Beaumont tried to induce Reginald to come with him to his club, and have a game of cards, but the young man, haunted by the subtle melody of the Lorelei did not feel inclined for the green table, so bidding the artist good-night, stepped into a hansom, and was driven back to his hotel.
All through his sleep that night, the shrill music rang in his brain, and he dreamed constantly of the woman with the fatal beauty, who, sitting on her rock, lured59 men to destruction.
Did no warning voice whisper the meaning of his dreams, how London, with siren music, was enticing60 him onward61 to her cruel pitfalls62 hidden by roses? No! Apparently63 his good genius had forsaken64 him, and he was now in the jaws65 of danger, without a single hand being stretched out to save him from the cruel rocks concealed under the whirling foam66, above which the Lorelei sang her evil song.
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1
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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2
woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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3
wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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4
desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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5
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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6
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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7
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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8
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
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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10
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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11
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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12
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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13
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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14
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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15
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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16
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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17
comedian
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| n.喜剧演员；滑稽演员 | |
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18
palatial
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| adj.宫殿般的，宏伟的 | |
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19
nude
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| adj.裸体的；n.裸体者，裸体艺术品 | |
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20
promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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21
dispensed
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| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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22
beverages
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| n.饮料( beverage的名词复数 ) | |
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23
akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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24
espy
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| v.（从远处等）突然看到 | |
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25
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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26
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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27
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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28
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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29
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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30
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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31
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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32
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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33
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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34
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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35
allurements
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| n.诱惑( allurement的名词复数 )；吸引；诱惑物；有诱惑力的事物 | |
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36
allure
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| n.诱惑力，魅力；vt.诱惑，引诱，吸引 | |
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37
motif
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| n.(图案的)基本花纹，(衣服的)花边；主题 | |
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38
discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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39
enticement
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| n.诱骗，诱人 | |
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40
turbid
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| adj.混浊的，泥水的，浓的 | |
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41
ballad
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| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
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42
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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43
beckons
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的第三人称单数 ) | |
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44
imploringly
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| adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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45
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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46
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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47
alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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48
cynically
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| adv.爱嘲笑地，冷笑地 | |
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49
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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50
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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51
scenic
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| adj.自然景色的，景色优美的 | |
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52
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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53
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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54
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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55
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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56
prophesied
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
posterity
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| n.后裔，子孙，后代 | |
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58
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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59
lured
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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60
enticing
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| adj.迷人的；诱人的 | |
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61
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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62
pitfalls
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| （捕猎野兽用的）陷阱( pitfall的名词复数 )； 意想不到的困难，易犯的错误 | |
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63
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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64
Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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65
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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66
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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