The miles flew quickly by. Peter soon began to wonder in pleasant excitement what Oxford2 was like.
At Oxford station he was immediately sensible of the advantages of a town where a great many people live only to anticipate the wishes of young gentlemen. In Hamingburgh only people with great presence of mind can succeed in being attended to by the men who in that independent city put themselves, as cabmen, porters, and shop assistants, into positions of superiority to the public. Peter was amazed at the deference3 with which his arrival upon the platform was met. The whole town seemed only anxious that he should reach his lodgings4 as quickly and as comfortably as possible.
Peter's impressions thereafter were fierce and[Pg 47] rapid. His four days were a wonderful round of visits. He perused5 the colleges, the gardens, and the river. He called upon old schoolfellows for whom the life of Oxford was already commonplace; who had long since forgotten that they were living in one of the loveliest of medi?val towns; who blindly perambulated the cloisters6, weighing the issues of a Test Match. He visited professors by invitation, and listened for the first time in his life to after-dinner conversation incredibly polite. After his papers were written for the day, he could make a quiet meal and issue adventurously7 into the streets, eagerly looking into the career at whose threshold he had arrived.
Peter was in a city of illusion. He constructed the life, whose outward activities he so curiously8 followed, from the stones of Oxford, and saw, as it seemed to him, an existence surrendered to lovely influences of culture and the awful discipline of knowledge. With reverence9 he encountered in the quadrangle of the college whose hospitality he was seeking, a majestic10 figure, silver-haired, of dreaming aspect, passing gravely to his pulpit of learning. This was that famous Warden11, renowned12 in Europe as the author of many books wherein the mightiest13 found themselves corrected.
Later in the day he enviously14 saw the inhabitants of this happy world, who in the morning had followed the Warden in to his lecture to get wisdom, issue from their rooms (whose windows[Pg 48] opened within rustle15 of the trees and prospect16 of a venerable lawn) dressed for the field or river. It particularly impressed Peter that in this attire17 they should take their way unconcerned through the streets of the town. No one would have dared, in Hamingburgh, to be thus conspicuous18. How debonair19 and free was life in this heavenly city!
At evening Peter walked in the streets and quadrangles, getting precious glimpses of an interior studiously lit, with groups, as he fancied them, of sober scholars in grave debate upon their studies of the morning; or, perhaps, in pleasant reminiscence of their games of the afternoon. Sometimes Peter would hear a burst of laughter or see through the panes20 of a college window a group of men deep in poker21 or bridge. Peter then remembered wild tales of the license22 of young bloods, and was not displeased23. It added a zest24 to his meditations25.
Peter's last evening focussed his impressions. It was the agreeable habit of the dons of Gamaliel College to invite their candidates to dinner when the trial was over. Peter accepted the invitation with dismay. It was the first time he had ever proposed to take an evening meal by way of dinner; he was afraid.
Nevertheless, the reality was quite pleasant. His first impression of the dons of Gamaliel was of their kindly26 interest in himself. He seemed to be specially27 selected for attention. The Warden in his welcome looked perusingly at him. Peter's[Pg 49] instinct, quick to feel an atmosphere, warned him, as they talked, that he was being tactfully drawn28. He noticed also the smiles that occasionally passed when he plunged29 into some vigorous opinion about the books he hated or loved. Insensibly he grew more cautious, and, as the dinner advanced, he was amazed to hear himself, as though he were listening to someone else, saying things in a new way. Peter was beginning to acquire the Oxford manner. His old life was receding30. He caught vaguely31 at a memory of Miranda, but she lived in another world. Here he sat a king of the earth. A beautifully spoken, white-haired servant at his elbow filled his glass with golden wine, and as he accepted regally of delicate meats from dishes respectfully offered, he heard himself, in tones already grown strangely in tune32 with those of his companions, contributing discreet33 opinions.
Peter, too, was drinking. He discovered how easy it was to talk at ease, to sparkle, to throw out, in grand disorder34, the thronging35 visions of his brain. Far from shrinking in diffidence from the necessity to assert himself and to be prominent, he began now actively36 to intervene.
Peter never remembered how first they came to talk of bees. But he did not for years forget the dramatic circumstances of this conversation. He never lost the horror with which he realised immediately after the event that he had contradicted the Reverend Warden, and that the whole table was waiting for him to make his contention37 good.
[Pg 50]
"Well, Mr. Paragon38, how do you explain all this?"
The room had suddenly become silent. All the little conversations had gone out. For the first time Peter felt that an audience was hanging upon him. He flushed, set his teeth, and talked. He talked with enthusiasm, tempered instinctively39 with the Oxford manner. His enthusiasm delighted the dons of Gamaliel, to whom it was very strange, and his experience interested them. Peter loved his bees and handled them well. When he had ended his account, all kinds of questions were asked. More than ever he felt elated and sure of himself. He emptied yet another glass of the golden wine.
"I'm becoming quite brilliant," he thought.
Then he saw that the Warden was speaking into an ear of the white-haired servant, glancing with ever so slight a gesture at Peter's empty glass. This time the servant in passing round the table omitted Peter.
Peter was quick to understand. He arrested himself in the act of saying something foolish. Clearly the wine had gone into his head. He wondered whether he would be able to stand up when the time came. He sank suddenly into himself, answering when he was appealed to directly, but otherwise content to watch the table. He thought with remorse40 of Miranda, almost forgotten amid the excitement of these last days. He saw again the garden as it looked on the evening[Pg 51] of his farewell. He wanted to be away from these strange people, from the raftered hall, the table soft-lit, beautiful with silver and glass. The voices went far-off. Only when his neighbour touched him on the shoulder did he notice that his companions were moving.
The Warden bade him a cordial good-bye. He smiled at Peter in a way that made his heart leap with a conviction that he had been successful.
"I wonder," Peter said to himself as he walked back to his rooms—"I wonder if I am really drunk?" He had never felt before quite as he did to-night. Now that he was in the open, he wanted to leap and to sing.
The municipal band was playing as he turned into the street. Round it were gathered in promenade41 an idle crowd of young shopkeepers, coupled, or desirous of being coupled, with girls of the town.
Peter noticed a handsome young woman at the edge of the crowd, hanging upon the arm of a young man. She was closely observing him as he came up. It seemed to Peter that she mischievously42 challenged him. Her companion was staring vacantly at the bandsmen. Peter paused irresolutely43, flushed a burning red, and passed hastily away.
He was astonished and humiliated44 at his physical commotion45. The music sounded hatefully the three-four rhythm of surrender. He was yet able to hear it as he stood under the window of his[Pg 52] room. He saw again the enigmatic eyes of the girl, the faint welcome of her smile, so slight as to be no more than a shadow, the coquettish recoil46 of her shoulders as he paused.
He turned into his lodgings, and ten o'clock began to strike on the Oxford bells. He waited for several minutes till the last had sounded. Oxford, for Peter, was to the end a city of bells. He never lost the impression of his first night as he lay, too excited for sleep, his thoughts interrupted with the hours as they sounded, high and low, till the last straggler had ended. It always profoundly affected47 him, this converse48 at night between turret49 and turret of the sleeping stones. It came at last to emphasize his impression of Oxford as a place whose actual and permanent life was in the walls and trees, whose men were shadows.
To-night the bells invited Peter to look into the greater life he expected to lead in this place. The scattered50 glimpses of a beautiful world at whose threshold he stood were now united in a hope that soon he would permanently51 share it within call of the hours as melodiously52 in this grey city they passed.
The fumes53 of the evening were blown away; the band in the street was no longer heard. Peter, awake in bed, heard yet another striking of the hour. He was looking back to his last evening with Miranda. How did she come into this new life? He thought of her sleeping, parted by a[Pg 53] wall's breadth from his empty room at home, and was invaded with a desire to be near her greater than his envy of anything that sounded in the striking bells.
"Miranda." He repeated the syllables54 to himself as the bells were striking, and fell asleep upon her name.
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1
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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perused
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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cloisters
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| n.（学院、修道院、教堂等建筑的）走廊( cloister的名词复数 )；回廊；修道院的生活；隐居v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的第三人称单数 ) | |
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adventurously
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| adv.爱冒险地 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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warden
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| n.监察员，监狱长，看守人，监护人 | |
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renowned
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| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
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mightiest
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| adj.趾高气扬( mighty的最高级 )；巨大的；强有力的；浩瀚的 | |
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enviously
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| adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
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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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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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debonair
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| adj.殷勤的，快乐的 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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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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29
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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30
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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31
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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thronging
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的现在分词 ) | |
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actively
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| adv.积极地，勤奋地 | |
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contention
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| n.争论，争辩，论战；论点，主张 | |
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paragon
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| n.模范，典型 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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41
promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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42
mischievously
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| adv.有害地；淘气地 | |
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43
irresolutely
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| adv.优柔寡断地 | |
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44
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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46
recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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48
converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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49
turret
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| n.塔楼，角塔 | |
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50
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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51
permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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52
melodiously
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53
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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54
syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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