The Cranstons were always a poor family, that is, as regards money, although they certainly could not complain of a lack of ancestors; and when it came to my turn to represent the race, I found that my lately deceased father had left me comparatively nothing. Not having any fixed5 income, I therefore could not live without doing something to earn my bread; and not having any business capacity, I foresaw failure would be my lot in mercantile enterprise. I was not good-looking enough to inveigle6 a wealthy heiress into matrimony; and as, after a survey of my possessions, I found I had nothing but a few hundred pounds and an excellent baritone voice, I made up my mind to use the former in cultivating the latter with a view to an operatic career.
Italy, living on the traditions of the days of Rossini, of Donizetti and of Bellini, has still the reputation of possessing excellent singing-masters, so to Italy I went with a hopeful heart and a light purse, and established myself at Milan, where I took lessons, in singing, from Maestro Angello. Milan is a detestable city, hot and arid7 in summer, cold and humid in winter; and as a year after I arrived in the land of song the end of spring was unusually disagreeable, Maestro Angello went to Verona for a change of air, and thither8 I followed him with no small pleasure at escaping from that dreary9 commercial capital of the north which has all the disagreeables of Italian life without any of the compensating10 advantages of romance and beauty.
But Verona! ah, it was truly delightful11, that sleepy town lying so peacefully on the banks of the rapid Adige, dreaming amid the riotous12 present of the splendid past, when Can Grande held his brilliant court, and received as an honoured guest the great poet Dante, exiled by ungrateful Florence. The city of the gay rhymer Catullus, merry lover of Lesbia, who wept more tears over her sparrow than she did over her poet. The city of Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers as they were, who were recompensed for their short, unhappy lives by gaining immortality13 from the pen of Shakespeare as types of eternal love and eternal constancy, for the encouragement of all succeeding youths and maidens14 of later generations. Yes, indeed, with all these memories, historical and poetical15, Verona was a pleasant place in which to idle away a summer, so I thanked the kind gods for my good fortune and enjoyed myself.
Not that I was idle. By no means! Maestro Angello kept me hard at work at exercises and scales, so I studied industriously16 most of the day and wandered about most of the night in the soft, cool moonlight, when Verona looked much more romantic than in the garish17 blaze of the Italian sun.
It was on one of these nights that an adventure happened to me, an adventure in which I was involved by the merest chance, although I confess that the vice18 of curiosity had a good deal to do with my entanglement19 therein.
After dining at the hotel I went out for my customary stroll, and having lighted a pipe as a preventive against the evil odours which seem inseparable from all Italian towns, I wandered on through the deserted20 streets in a listless, aimless fashion, contrasting in my own mind the magnificent Verona of the past with the dismal21 Verona of the present. Taken up with these fantastic dreamings, I did not notice particularly where I was going, or how quickly the time was passing, until I found myself on the Ponte Aleardi--that iron bridge which spans the Adige--and heard the church bells chiming the hour of eleven.
The moon was shining in the darkly blue sky amid the brilliant stars, and the leaden waters of the river shone like a band of steel in the pale, silvery light. On either side of the stream lowered dark masses of houses, from the windows of which gleamed here and there orange-coloured lights, while against the clear sky arose the tall steeples of the churches and the serrated outlines of full-foliaged trees. It was wonderfully beautiful, and the soft wind blowing through the night, rippled22 the swift waters to lines of ever-vanishing white; so leaning over the balustrade of the bridge, I dreamed and smoked, and smoked and dreamed, until the chiming of the half-hour warned me to return to my hotel.
The night, however, was so beautiful and cool, that I could not but think of my hot sleeping-chamber with repugnance23, and feeling disinclined for rest, I made up my mind to stroll onward24 for some time. I might have visited that fraudulent tomb of Juliet in the moonlight, but as I had already seen it by day, and could not feel enthusiastic about such a palpable deception25, I refused to be further victimised, and crossed over the bridge to the left shore of the river.
It was somewhat solitary26, there, but I was not afraid of robbers, as I had but little money and no jewellery on me, and moreover I felt that, should occasion arise, I could use my fists sufficiently27 well to protect myself. Being thus at ease regarding my personal safety, I lighted a cigar which luckily happened to be in my pocket, and wandered on until I came within sight, of the cemetery28.
Now I firmly believe that every one has in him a vein29 of superstition30 which is developed in accordance with his surroundings. Place a man at midday in a bustling31 city, and he scoffs32 at the idea of the supernatural; but let him find himself at midnight alone on a solitary moor33, with the shadows of moonlight on every side, and all his inherent superstition will start to life, peopling the surrounding solitude34 with unseen phantoms35, more terrible than those of the Arabian Nights. Whether it was the time of night, or the proximity36 of the burial-ground, I do not know, but I felt my breast fill with vague fears, and hastened to leave the uncanny spot as quickly as possible.
Fate, however, was against me, for in my blind speed, instead of crossing the bridge, I turned to the left, and unexpectedly found myself in the vicinity of another burial-ground. It was apparently37 much older than the one I had first seen, and there was a ruined wall around it, overtopped by tall, melancholy38 cypresses39, looming40 black and funereal41 against the midnight sky. By this time I had recovered my nerve, and feeling somewhat ashamed of my former ignominious42 flight, I determined43 to punish myself by entering this antique abode44 of the dead, and examining it thoroughly45.
With this idea I climbed over a portion of the broken wall, and in the shadow of the cypress-trees--shadow dense46 as the darkness of Egypt--I viewed the mournful scene before me, with mingled47 feelings of curiosity and dread48.
It was evidently very old, for even under the softening49 light of the moon, the near tombs looked discoloured and time-worn. I saw the soft swell50 of the green turf, betokening51 graves, upon which grew the grass long and rank; the milky52 gleam of slender white columns, broken at the top to typify the short lives of those who slept below; and while yonder, in frowning grey stone, stood a solemn pyramid, built in imitation of those Egyptian monsters by the Nile, here, near at hand, a miniature temple of white marble, delicate and fragile in construction, hinted at the graceful53 architecture of Greece. Among these myriad54 tombs arose the slender, lance-shaped cypress-trees, and their dark forms alternating with gleaming crosses of white marble, sombre pyramids, classic temples, and innumerable lines of tall columns, gave to this singular scene the aspect of a visionary city of the dead, which had become visible to mortal eyes by the enchantments55 of the moon.
Fascinated by the weirdness56 of this solitude, I let my cigar fall to the ground, and, hidden in the gloom of the cypress-trees, stared long and earnestly at this last abode of the old Veronese, when suddenly my hair bristled58 at the roots, a cold sweat broke out on my forehead, and a nervous shudder59 made my frame tremble as if with ague.
The cause of this sudden fear was that, while wrapt in contemplation of this desolate60 necropolis, I heard a laugh, a low, wicked laugh, which seemed to come from the bowels61 of the earth. It was now nearly midnight, that hour when the dead are said to come forth62 and wander among the living, whose nightly sleep so strangely mocks the semblance63 of that still repose64 which chains these spectres to their tombs during the day. This idea pierced my brain like a knife, and for the moment, under the influence of the hour, the ghastly scene, the evil laugh, I believed that I was about to witness this terrible resurrection. I tried to turn and fly, but my limbs were paralyzed, and like a statue of stone I stood there rooted to the earth, feeling as if I were under the influence of some horrible nightmare.
Again I heard that wicked laugh, and this time it seemed to come from a tomb near me, a square block of gray stone, in the centre of which was an iron door, evidently the entrance to some vault65. Beside this portal stood a life-sized figure in white marble of the Angel of Death, guarding the entrance with a flaming sword, the undulating blade of which seemed, to my startled eye, to waver against the blackness of the door. All round this strange tomb the grass grew long and thick, but, half veiled by the tangled66 herbage, star-shaped flowers glimmered67 in the moonlight.
In another moment I would have fled, when for the third time I heard the evil laugh, the iron door of the tomb slowly opened, and a dark figure appeared on the threshold. The sight was so terrifying that I tried to mutter a prayer, feeling at the time as firm a belief in the visitation of the dead as any old woman; but my throat was so dry that I could do nothing but remain silent in my hiding-place and stare at this ghoul, vampire68, wraith69, or whatever it was, leaving its tomb.
To add to the horror of the situation, the moon had obscured herself behind a thick cloud, and there was now a deep darkness over all the graveyard70, a darkness in which I could see nothing, and only hear the faint sigh of the wind, the rustle71 of the dry grasses, and the loud beating of my heart.
Suddenly I felt that this creature of the night was passing near me, and in abject72 terror I shrank back against the rough trunk of the tree under which I was standing73. I heard nothing in the still night, I saw nothing in the thick darkness; but I felt it pass, by that sixth sense which is possessed74 by those who have highly strung nerves. In another moment the moon emerged from behind the clouds in all her splendour, and the burst of light gave me courage, for without considering the danger, either material or immaterial, I rushed quickly towards the broken wall, in which direction I judged this unseen ghoul had gone.
The white moonlight flooded the whole space between the burial-ground and the river, so that I saw clearly this figure walking quickly away in the direction of the Ponte Aleardi. It was draped in a long black cloak with a monkish75 hood76, and with its trailing, noiseless garments it seemed to glide77 along in the moonlight like a shadow.
I had been so quick in my pursuit that it was only a little distance away, and as I peered cautiously over the broken wall it paused for a moment, and, throwing back its hood, looked towards the place where I was hiding. The space between us was so small and the moonlight so lustrous78 that I could see the face and head plainly rising from amid the dark drapery.
The face was that of a woman, a beautiful woman with full crimson79 lips, large dark eyes, and great masses of reddish-coloured hair, for even in the cold moonlight I could see the warm, bronze glint of her tresses. One hand, slender and white, clasped the dark robe to her breast, and she looked towards the darkness of the broken wall as if she knew that some one had seen her terrible resurrection. On her delicate features there was a cold, stern look, like that of the ancient Medusa, and truly I felt as if I were turning into stone before the cruel glare of those eyes which seemed to pierce the gloom in which I lay hid. It will be said that I describe somewhat minutely the appearance of this ghoul, seeing that I only beheld80 her for a moment in the pale, uncertain gleam of the moon; but so close was she to the wall, and so highly strung were my nerves by the weirdness of the situation, that the sudden apparition81 of this creature of the night photographed itself indelibly on my brain.
At last she seemed satisfied with her gazing at the burial-ground from whence she had emerged, and, again drawing her hood over her face, glided82 rapidly away towards the Ponte Aleardi. Moved by curiosity and supernatural fear, I determined to follow this spectre and find out where she was going, so without a moment's hesitation83 I jumped down, and, keeping in the shadow of the wall, stole after her noiselessly and swiftly.
Who was she? Some unhappy ghost of antique Verona, who had committed one of those terrible crimes invented by Lucrezia Borgia, and who was condemned84 by God to nightly revisit the scene of her former splendour as a punishment for her evil life? Some ghoul who left the feast of the dead in order to prey85 upon the living? Some vampire, lusting86 for blood, hastening towards the sleeping city to select her victim and drain him of his life-blood? All the wild, weird57 tales which I had heard recurred87 to my memory; all the terrible legends of Brittany, of the East, of Spain, and of the savage88 North. The memories of witches rifling the dead for their unholy needs, of wizards holding orgies in lonely churchyards, of magicians evoking89 the silent tenants90 of the grave by powerful spells, and of demons91 entering the bodies of the newly dead in order to roam the midnight world--all these gruesome ideas surged in my brain like the delirium92 of fever.
My fear had passed away. I felt intensely curious to know the errand upon which this woman was bent93, and, with all my faculties94 sharpened by danger, I sped swiftly after this flying spectre, which, looking neither to right nor left, glided rapidly onward towards the sleeping city of Verona.
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1
prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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aphorism
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| n.格言，警语 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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inveigle
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| v.诱骗 | |
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arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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10
compensating
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| 补偿，补助，修正 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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12
riotous
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| adj.骚乱的；狂欢的 | |
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13
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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industriously
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17
garish
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| adj.华丽而俗气的，华而不实的 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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entanglement
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| n.纠缠，牵累 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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27
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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29
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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32
scoffs
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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36
proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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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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cypresses
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| n.柏属植物，柏树( cypress的名词复数 ) | |
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40
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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41
funereal
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| adj.悲哀的；送葬的 | |
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42
ignominious
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| adj.可鄙的，不光彩的，耻辱的 | |
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43
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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46
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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47
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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48
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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49
softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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50
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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51
betokening
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的现在分词 ) | |
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52
milky
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| adj.牛奶的，多奶的；乳白色的 | |
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53
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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54
myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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55
enchantments
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| n.魅力( enchantment的名词复数 )；迷人之处；施魔法；着魔 | |
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56
weirdness
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| n.古怪，离奇，不可思议 | |
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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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58
bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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59
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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60
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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61
bowels
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| n.肠，内脏，内部；肠( bowel的名词复数 )；内部，最深处 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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66
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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67
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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vampire
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| n.吸血鬼 | |
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wraith
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| n.幽灵；骨瘦如柴的人 | |
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70
graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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71
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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72
abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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73
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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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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monkish
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| adj.僧侣的，修道士的，禁欲的 | |
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76
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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79
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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80
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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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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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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lusting
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| 贪求（lust的现在分词形式） | |
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recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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evoking
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| 产生，引起，唤起( evoke的现在分词 ) | |
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tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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demons
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| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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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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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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