MR. EDWARD ELLICE, who constantly figures in the memoirs1 ofthe last century as 'Bear Ellice' (an outrageous2 misnomer3, bythe way), and who later on married my mother, was the chiefcontroller of my youthful destiny. His first wife was asister of the Lord Grey of Reform Bill fame, in whoseGovernment he filled the office of War Minister. In manyrespects Mr. Ellice was a notable man. He possessed4 shrewdintelligence, much force of character, and an autocraticspirit - to which he owed his sobriquet5. His kindness ofheart, his powers of conversation, with striking personalityand ample wealth, combined to make him popular. His house inArlington Street, and his shooting lodge6 at Glen Quoich, werefamous for the number of eminent7 men who were his frequentguests.
Mr. Ellice's position as a minister, and his habitualresidence in Paris, had brought him in touch with the leadingstatesmen of France. He was intimately acquainted with LouisPhilippe, with Talleyrand, with Guizot, with Thiers, and mostof the French men and French women whose names were bruitedin the early part of the nineteenth century.
When I was taken from Temple Grove9, I was placed, by theadvice and arrangement of Mr. Ellice, under the charge of aFrench family, which had fallen into decay - through thechange of dynasty. The Marquis de Coubrier had been Masterof the Horse to Charles X. His widow - an old lady betweenseventy and eighty - with three maiden10 daughters, alladvanced in years, lived upon the remnant of their estates ina small village called Larue, close to Bourg-la-Reine, which,it may be remembered, was occupied by the Prussians duringthe siege of Paris. There was a chateau11, the former seat ofthe family; and, adjoining it, in the same grounds, a prettyand commodious12 cottage. The first was let as a country houseto some wealthy Parisians; the cottage was occupied by theMarquise and her three daughters.
The personal appearances of each of these four elderlyladies, their distinct idiosyncrasies, and their former highposition as members of a now moribund13 nobility, left alasting impression on my memory. One might expect, perhaps,from such a prelude14, to find in the old Marquise traces ofstately demeanour, or a regretted superiority. Nothing ofthe kind. She herself was a short, square-built woman, withlarge head and strong features, framed in a mob cap, with abroad frill which flopped15 over her tortoise-shell spectacles.
She wore a black bombazine gown, and list slippers16. When inthe garden, where she was always busy in the summer-time, sheput on wooden sabots over her slippers.
Despite this homely17 exterior18, she herself was a 'lady' inevery sense of the word. Her manner was dignified19 andcourteous to everyone. To her daughters and to myself shewas gentle and affectionate. Her voice was sympathetic,almost musical. I never saw her temper ruffled20. I neverheard her allude21 to her antecedents.
The daughters were as unlike their mother as they were to oneanother. Adele, the eldest22, was very stout23, with a profusionof grey ringlets. She spoke24 English fluently. I gathered,from her mysterious nods and tosses of the head, (to be sure,her head wagged a little of its own accord, the ringlets too,like lambs' tails,) that she had had an AFFAIRE DE COEUR withan Englishman, and that the perfidious25 islander had removedfrom the Continent with her misplaced affections. She was atrifle bitter, I thought - for I applied26 her insinuations tomyself - against Englishmen generally. But, though cynicalin theory, she was perfectly27 amiable28 in practice. Shesuperintended the menage and spent the rest of her life inmaking paper flowers. I should hardly have known they wereflowers, never having seen their prototypes in nature. Sheassured me, however, that they were beautiful copies -undoubtedly she believed them to be so.
Henriette, the youngest, had been the beauty of the family.
This I had to take her own word for, since here again therewas much room for imagination and faith. She was a confirmedinvalid, and, poor thing! showed every symptom of it. Sherarely left her room except for meals; and although it wassummer when I was there, she never moved without herchauffrette. She seemed to live for the sake of patentmedicines and her chauffrette; she was always swallowing theone, and feeding the other.
The middle daughter was Aglae. Mademoiselle Aglae tookcharge - I may say, possession - of me. She was tall, gaunt,and bony, with a sharp aquiline29 nose, pomegranate cheek-bones, and large saffron teeth ever much in evidence. Herspeciality, as I soon discovered, was sentiment. Like hersisters, she had had her 'affaires' in the plural30. A Greekprince, so far as I could make out, was the last of heradorers. But I sometimes got into scrapes by mixing up theGreek prince with a Polish count, and then confounding eitherone or both with a Hungarian pianoforte player.
Without formulating31 my deductions32, I came instinctively33 tothe conclusion that 'En fait d'amour,' as Figaro puts it,'trop n'est pas meme assez.' From Miss Aglae's point of viewa lover was a lover. As to the superiority of one overanother, this was - nay34, is - purely35 subjective36. 'We receivebut what we give.' And, from what Mademoiselle then told me,I cannot but infer that she had given without stint37.
Be that as it may, nothing could be more kind than her careof me. She tucked me up at night, and used to send for me inthe morning before she rose, to partake of her CAFE-AU-LAIT.
In return for her indulgences, I would 'make eyes' such as Ihad seen Auguste, the young man-servant, cast at Rose thecook. I would present her with little scraps38 which I copiedin roundhand from a volume of French poems. Once I drew, andcoloured with red ink, two hearts pierced with an arrow, acopious pool of red ink beneath, emblematic39 of both thequality and quantity of my passion. This work of artproduced so deep a sigh that I abstained40 thenceforth fromrepeating such sanguinary endearments42.
Not the least interesting part of the family was theservants. I say 'family,' for a French family, unlike anEnglish one, includes its domestics; wherein our neighbourshave the advantage over us. In the British establishment thehousehold is but too often thought of and treated asfurniture. I was as fond of Rose the cook and maid-of-all-work as I was of anyone in the house. She showed me how topeel potatoes, break eggs, and make POT-AU-FEU. She made melittle delicacies43 in pastry44 - swans with split almonds forwings, comic little pigs with cloves45 in their eyes - for allof which my affection and my liver duly acknowledged receiptin full. She taught me more provincial46 pronunciation and badgrammar than ever I could unlearn. She was very intelligent,and radiant with good humour. One peculiarity47 especiallytook my fancy - the yellow bandana in which she enveloped48 herhead. I was always wondering whether she was born withouthair - there was none to be seen. This puzzled me so thatone day I consulted Auguste, who was my chief companion. Hewas quite indignant, and declared with warmth that Mam'selleRose had the most beautiful hair he had ever beheld50. Heflushed even with enthusiasm. If it hadn't been for hismanner, I should have asked him how he knew. But somehow Ifelt the subject was a delicate one.
How incessantly51 they worked, Auguste and Rose, and howcheerfully they worked! One could hear her singing, and himwhistling, at it all day. Yet they seemed to have abundantleisure to exchange a deal of pleasantry and harmless banter53.
Auguste was a Swiss, and a bigoted54 Protestant, and never lostan opportunity of holding forth41 on the superiority of thereformed religion. If he thought the family were out ofhearing, he would grow very animated55 and declamatory. ButRose, who also had hopes, though perhaps faint, for mysalvation, would suddenly rush into the room with the carpetbroom, and drive him out, with threats of Miss Aglae, and thebroomstick.
The gardener, Monsieur Benoit, was also a great favourite ofmine, and I of his, for I was never tired of listening to hiswonderful adventures. He had, so he informed me, been asoldier in the GRANDE ARMEE. He enthralled56 me with hair-raising accounts of his exploits: how, when leading astorming party - he was always the leader - one dark andterrible night, the vivid and incessant52 lightning betrayedthem by the flashing of their bayonets; and how in a fewminutes they were mowed57 down by MITRAILLE. He had ledforlorn hopes, and performed deeds of astounding58 prowess.
How many Life-guardsmen he had annihilated59: 'Ah! ben oui!'
he was afraid to say. He had been personally noticed by 'Lep'tit caporal.' There were many, whose deeds were not tocompare with his, who had been made princes and mareschals.
PARBLEU! but his luck was bad. 'Pas d'chance! pas d'chance!
Mo'sieu Henri.' As Monsieur Benoit recorded his feats60, andwitnessed my unbounded admiration61, his voice would grow moreand more sepulchral62, till it dropped to a hoarse63 and scarcelyaudible whisper.
I was a little bewildered one day when, having breathlesslyrepeated some of his heroic deeds to the Marquise, she with aquiet smile assured me that 'ce petit bon-homme,' as shecalled him, had for a short time been a drummer in theNational Guard, but had never been a soldier. This was ablow to me; moreover, I was troubled by the composure of theMarquise. Monsieur Benoit had actually been telling me whatwas not true. Was it, then, possible that grown-up peopleacquired the privilege of fibbing with impunity64? I wonderedwhether this right would eventually become mine!
At Bourg-la-Reine there is, or was, a large school. Threedays in the week I had to join one of the classes there; onthe other three one of the ushers65 came up to Larue for acouple of hours of private tuition. At the school itself Idid not learn very much, except that boys everywhere arepretty similar, especially in the badness of their manners.
I also learnt that shrugging the shoulders while exhibitingthe palms of the hands, and smiting66 oneself vehemently67 on thechest, are indispensable elements of the French idiom. Theindiscriminate use of the word 'parfaitement' I also noticedto be essential when at a loss for either language or ideas,and have made valuable use of it ever since.
Monsieur Vincent, my tutor, was a most good-natured andpatient teacher. I incline, however, to think that I taughthim more English than he taught me French. He certainlyworked hard at his lessons. He read English aloud to me, andmade me correct his pronunciation. The mental agony thiscaused me makes me hot to think of still. I had never heardhis kind of Franco-English before. To my ignorance it wasthe most comic language in the world. There were some wordswhich, in spite of my endeavours, he persisted in pronouncingin his own way. I have since got quite used to the most ofthem, and their only effect is to remind me of my own rashventures in a foreign tongue. There are one or two wordswhich recall the pain it gave me to control my emotions. Hewould produce his penknife, for instance; and, contemplatingit with a despondent69 air, would declare it to be the mostdifficult word in the English language to pronounce. 'Ow yousay 'im?' 'Penknife,' I explained. He would bid me write itdown; then having spelt it, he would, with much effort, and asound like sneezing - oh! the pain I endured! - slowly repeat'Penkneef.' I gave it up at last; and he was gratified withhis success. As my explosion generally occurred about fiveminutes afterwards, Monsieur Vincent failed to connect causeand effect. When we parted he gave me a neatly70 bound copy ofLa Bruyere as a prize - for his own proficiency71, I presume.
Many a pleasant half-hour have I since spent with the wittyclassic.
Except the controversial harangues72 of the zealot Auguste, myreligious teaching was neglected on week days. On Sundays,if fine, I was taken to a Protestant church in Paris; notinfrequently to the Embassy. I did not enjoy this at all. Icould have done very well without it. I liked the drive,which took about an hour each way. Occasionally Aglae and Iwent in the Bourg-la-Reine coucou. But Mr. Ellice hadarranged that a carriage should be hired for me. Probably hewas not unmindful of the convenience of the old ladies. Theywere not. The carriage was always filled. Even MademoiselleHenriette managed to go sometimes - aided by a little patentmedicine, and when it was too hot for the chauffrette. Ifshe was unable, a friend in the neighbourhood was offered aseat; and I had to sit bodkin, or on Mademoiselle Aglae'slap. I hated the 'friend'; for, secretly, I felt thecarriage was mine, though of course I never had the bad tasteto say so.
They went to Mass, and I was allowed to go with them, inaddition to my church, as a special favour. I liked themusic, the display of candles, the smell of the incense73, andthe dresses of the priests; and wondered whether whenundressed - unrobed, that is - they were funny old gentlemenlike Monsieur le Cure at Larue, and took such a prodigiousquantity of snuff up their noses and under their finger-nails. The ladies did a good deal of shopping, and wefinished off at the Flower Market by the Madeleine, where I,through the agency of Mademoiselle Aglae, bought plants for'Maman.' This gave 'Maman' UN PLAISIR INOUI, and me too; forthe dear old lady always presented me with a stick of barley-sugar in return. As I never possessed a sou (Miss Aglae keptaccount of all my expenses and disbursements) I was stronglyin favour of buying plants for 'Maman.'
I loved the garden. It was such a beautiful garden; sobeautifully kept by Monsieur Benoit, and withered74 old MereMichele, who did the weeding and helped Rose once a week inthe laundry. There were such pretty trellises, covered withroses and clematis; such masses of bright flowers and sweetmignonette; such tidy gravel75 walks and clipped box edges;such floods of sunshine; so many butterflies and lizardsbasking in it; the birds singing with excess of joy. I usedto fancy they sang in gratitude76 to the dear old Marquise, whonever forgot them in the winter snows.
What a quaint8 but charming picture she was amidst thisquietude, - she who had lived through the Reign68 of Terror:
her mob cap, garden apron77, and big gloves; a trowel in onehand, a watering-pot in the other; potting and unpotting; sobusy, seemingly so happy. She loved to have me with her, andlet me do the watering. What a pleasure that was! Thescores of little jets from the perforated rose, the gushingsound, the freshness and the sparkle, the gratitude of theplants, to say nothing of one's own wet legs. 'Maman' didnot approve of my watering my own legs. But if the watering-pot was too big for me how could I help it? By and by asmall one painted red within and green outside was discoveredin Bourg-la-Reine, and I was happy ever afterwards.
Much of my time was spent with the children and nurses of thefamily which occupied the chateau. The costume of the headnurse with her high Normandy cap (would that I had a femalepen for details) invariably suggested to me that she wouldmake any English showman's fortune, if he could only exhibither stuffed. At the cottage they called her 'La GrosseNormande.' Not knowing her by any other name, I always soaddressed her. She was not very quick-witted, but I thinkshe a little resented my familiarity, and retaliated78 bycomparisons between her compatriots and mine, always in atone49 derogatory to the latter. She informed me as a matterof history, patent to all nurses, that the English race werenotoriously bow-legged; and that this was due to the viciouspractice of allowing children to use their legs before thegristle had become bone. Being of an inquiring turn of mind,I listened with awe79 to this physiological80 revelation, andwith chastened and depressed81 spirits made a mental note ofour national calamity82. Privately83 I fancied that the mottledand spasmodic legs of Achille - whom she carried in her arms- or at least so much of the infant Pelides' legs as were notenveloped in a napkin, gave every promise of refuting hergeneralisation.
One of my amusements was to set brick traps for small birds.
At Holkham in the winter time, by baiting with a few grainsof corn, I and my brothers used, in this way, to capturerobins, hedge-sparrows, and tits. Not far from the chateauwas a large osier bed, resorted to by flocks of the commonsparrow. Here I set my traps. But it being summer time, and(as I complained when twitted with want of success) Frenchbirds being too stupid to know what the traps were for, Inever caught a feather. Now this osier bed was a favouritegame covert84 for the sportsmen of the chateau; and what was mydelight and astonishment85 when one morning I found a dead harewith its head under the fallen brick of my trap. Howtriumphantly I dragged it home, and showed it to Rose andAuguste, - who more than the rest had 'mocked themselves' ofmy traps, and then carried it in my arms, all bloody86 as itwas (I could not make out how both its hind87 legs were broken)into the salon88 to show it to the old Marquise. MademoiselleHenriette, who was there, gave a little scream (for effect)at sight of the blood. Everybody was pleased. But when Ioverheard Rose's SOTTO VOCE to the Marquise: 'Comme ils sontgentils!' I indignantly retorted that 'it wasn't kind of thehare at all: it was entirely89 due to my skill in setting thetraps. They would catch anything that put its head intothem. Just you try.'
How severe are the shocks of early disillusionment! It wasnot until long after the hare was skinned, roasted, served asCIVET and as PUREE that I discovered the truth. I was not atall grateful to the gentlemen of the chateau whose dupe I hadbeen; was even wrath90 with my dear old 'Maman' for treatingthem with extra courtesy for their kindness to her PETITCHERI.
That was a happy summer. After it was ended, and it was timefor me to return to England and begin my education for theNavy I never again set eyes on Larue, or that charming nestof old ladies who had done their utmost to spoil me. Manyand many a time have I been to Paris, but nothing could temptme to visit Larue. So it is with me. Often have Iquestioned the truth of the NESSUN MAGGIOR DOLORE than thememory of happy times in the midst of sorry ones. Thethought of happiness, it would seem, should surely make ushappier, and yet - not of happiness for ever lost. And arenot the deepening shades of our declining sun deepened byyouth's contrast? Whatever our sweetest songs may tell usof, we are the sadder for our sweetest memories. The grasscan never be as green again to eyes grown watery91. The lambsthat skipped when we did were long since served as mutton.
And ifDie Fusse tragen mich so muthig nicht emporDie hohen Stufen die ich kindisch ubersprang,why, I will take the fact for granted. My youth is fled, myfriends are dead. The daisies and the snows whiten by turnsthe grave of him or her - the dearest I have loved. Shall Imake a pilgrimage to that sepulchre? Drop futile92 tears uponit? Will they warm what is no more? I for one have not theheart for that. Happily life has something else for us todo. Happily 'tis best to do it.
收听单词发音 |
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memoirs
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| n.回忆录；回忆录传( mem,自oir的名词复数) | |
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outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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misnomer
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| n.误称 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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sobriquet
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| n.绰号 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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commodious
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| adj.宽敞的；使用方便的 | |
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moribund
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| adj.即将结束的，垂死的 | |
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prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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flopped
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| v.（指书、戏剧等）彻底失败( flop的过去式和过去分词 )；（因疲惫而）猛然坐下；（笨拙地、不由自主地或松弛地）移动或落下；砸锅 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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allude
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| v.提及，暗指 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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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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perfidious
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| adj.不忠的，背信弃义的 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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aquiline
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| adj.钩状的，鹰的 | |
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plural
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| n.复数；复数形式；adj.复数的 | |
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formulating
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| v.构想出( formulate的现在分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
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deductions
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| 扣除( deduction的名词复数 )； 结论； 扣除的量； 推演 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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subjective
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| a.主观(上)的，个人的 | |
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stint
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| v.节省，限制，停止；n.舍不得化，节约，限制；连续不断的一段时间从事某件事 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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emblematic
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| adj.象征的，可当标志的；象征性 | |
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abstained
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| v.戒（尤指酒），戒除( abstain的过去式和过去分词 )；弃权（不投票） | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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endearments
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| n.表示爱慕的话语，亲热的表示( endearment的名词复数 ) | |
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delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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pastry
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| n.油酥面团，酥皮糕点 | |
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cloves
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| n.丁香（热带树木的干花，形似小钉子，用作调味品，尤用作甜食的香料）( clove的名词复数 )；蒜瓣(a garlic ~|a ~of garlic) | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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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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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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bigoted
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| adj.固执己见的，心胸狭窄的 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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enthralled
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| 迷住，吸引住( enthrall的过去式和过去分词 )； 使感到非常愉快 | |
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mowed
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| v.刈，割( mow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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annihilated
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| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的过去式和过去分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
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feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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sepulchral
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| adj.坟墓的，阴深的 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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impunity
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| n.(惩罚、损失、伤害等的)免除 | |
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ushers
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| n.引座员( usher的名词复数 )；招待员；门房；助理教员v.引，领，陪同( usher的第三人称单数 ) | |
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smiting
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的现在分词 ) | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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proficiency
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| n.精通，熟练，精练 | |
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harangues
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| n.高谈阔论的长篇演讲( harangue的名词复数 )v.高谈阔论( harangue的第三人称单数 ) | |
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incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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retaliated
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| v.报复，反击( retaliate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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physiological
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| adj.生理学的，生理学上的 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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