There came an evening during my novitiate when, after being fed but lightly, I was taken to a Chamber1, and there laced into an expensive Corset, black as Midnight, imported, I was told, from Paris, from the very workshop of the Corsetier to the Queen. They painted my face into a wan2?ton Sister of itself, showing me, in a Hand-Mirror,— 'twas a Woman I'd never seen before,— whom, upon the Instant, sinfully, I desir'd. I allow'd the Maquilleuses to hear my surpriz'd little Gasp4 as they brought out undergarments for me that might, Blondelle assur'd me, make a French whore think twice.
"The Chinaman likes these," they inform'd me, as firmly I was hook'd and knotted into this Uniform of most shamefully5 carnal intent, which fram'd, but did not veil, my intimate openings.
I went this way and that upon the balls of my feet, lace trimmings a-flutter, in tiny steps of Perplexity. "Chinaman? what Chinaman?"
"One of the principal Duties of a Widow of Christ is to charm the Chi?nese. Soon you'll begin your studies in their Language. Eventually you'll go there for a year or two."
"China?"
"Hold still.— Oui, ev'ryone here has serv'd upon that Station."
"You'll love it," cried Blondelle, "the food they eat there is delicious beyond belief,— Shrimps6 with Hot Chillies and Peanuts! Slic'd Chicken in Garlick and Black Bean Sauce! Cold Sesame Noodles! Sweet Biscuits with Messages folded inside upon Paper you can eat,— Ahh! making m'self hungry just thinking about it— "
The Wicked French Nuns7 all took a coordinated8 Dance-Step together, turn'd, and shook their fingers.
"Basest form o' Desire, Blondelle."
"Even to speak of it, suggests a failure of self-restraint I am all but oblig'd to report."
"Oh get on, 've ye never been starv'd for something that tastes like something, instead of this Gruel10 we're ever fed?"
'"Nonetheless, Sister."
I took the moment to examine my new-adorn'd Limbs, running finger?tips where I could not see, trying to be my own looking-glass. It earn'd me a slap and some time upon my knees. Charming the Chinaman was serious business 'round here. "Time to bind11 those Feet, Child." It took a long time. I had never imagin'd my Feet as having quite so many distinct
Parts, each able to feel in its own set of ways Chinese men, in my
reveries upon the subject, grew more interesting as the binding13 pro14?ceeded. If this was what they lik'd...
Brae has discover'd the sinister15 Volume in 'Thelmer's Room, lying open to a Copper-plate Engraving16 of two pretty Nuns, sporting in ways she finds inexplicably17 intriguing18...
"Oh, hullo, Brae,— aahcck...um, well what's that you're reading? Hmm," having a look, "something of Cousin DePugh's, I guess."
She gazes at him, for what seems to him a long time. "You left it for someone to find," she whispers at last.
"Perhaps I'd only imagin'd my room safe from the eyes, however big and innocent, of curious Cousins."
"You're full of Surprizes, Thelmer. Tho' I remain unclear, as to why a young University Gentleman should find Affection between Women at all a topic of interest."
"Why...sure there may be Renderings19 more pleasant to look upon...the Western Country at Sunset, probably,— Scenes of Religious Life, Hunting-Dogs, a Table-ful of Food... yet if one of you, beheld20 inti-
mately, be all but unbearably21 fair, you see, imagine the sentimental22 Delight into which a Man might be thrown, at the sight of two of you." "More than twice as much, I'd guess, wouldn't you?" "Oh, something exponential, I've no doubt," her Cousin replies. "Besides that, 'tis the next in the Ghastly Fop series, I'm oblig'd in Honor to read them all in Line, ain't I?"
"Then you must first bring me up to Date, mustn't you." Thelmer blurts23 a Synopsis24. "The Ghastly Fop. He's seen at Ridottoes and Hurricanes, close to Gaming-Tables, as to expensive Nymphs. But he speaks to no one. No one approaches him. 'Not I, thank you,— much too ghastly,' is the postventilatory Murmur25 among the Belles26 attending. He is reported to be the Wraith27 of a quite dreadfully ruin'd young man come to London from the Country, who can return neither there, nor to the World of Death, until sizable Debts in this one be settl'd,— and to reside, tho' not necessarily to live, in Hampstead."
The Ghastly F., true to his legend, is engaged in the long, frustrating28, too often unproductive Exercise of tracking down ev'ryone with whom he yet has unresolv'd financial dealings. To some, he seems quite con29?ventionally alive, whilst others swear he is a Ghost. That no one is certain, contributes to his peculiar30 Charm, tho' Admirers must ever sigh, for but One Motrix commands his Attention and Fidelity,— the Account-Book. Some of those nam'd therein have cheated him of money he must collect, others are creditors31 whom he must repay, and so forth32. On and on he goes, one to another, using these imbalances as a general excuse to pry33 into the finances of others, Fop-link'd or not. Some days he'll find a two-for-one. The Series runs to at least a Dozen Volumes by now, tho' no one is sure exactly how many,— forgeries34 have also found their way into the Market. Ghastly Fop sightings are increasingly reported, not only from Ranelagh or Covent Garden, but all over the Kingdom, Thornton-le-Beans, Slad, name your town, the Ghastly F. has either just been thro' or is schedul'd to arrive at any Moment. In his largely Paper Vengeance35, he not only traverses England, but the World of Commerce as well, righting Injustices36 in Grub-Street, prematurely37 exploding Bubble-Schemes, making wild raids upon the Exchange, Gambling38 Stacks of what prove to be only Ghost-Guineas, losing all,
straightening his Wig39, and vanishing before the admittedly sleep-denied Eyes of the Company.
Somewhere, as some would say ineluctably, in this wealth-spangl'd Web, is a fateful Strand40 leading to the Society of Jesus. Of course, being a Financial Entity41, Jesuits have the same difficulties with Stock-Jobbing, Land-holdings, Officials who may not stay brib'd for quite long enough,— that is, they seem submissive as any of us, before the com?mands of Time, tho' their Wonderful Telegraph gives them in that Arti?cle an Edge over the rest of Christendom, who have still advanc'd no further in the Arts of the Distant Message, than training Courier Pigeons,— or small Hawks42 to seize those of others out of the Sky, and bring the Prey43 back to their Handlers, before being allow'd their own Enjoyment44.
"How far in the Book did you get?"
"Up to where she meets the Chinese Boy, and they plan their Escape."
"Awkward time to break off."
"I heard you out in the Hall."
They stand quite close in the small upper room, Relations stash'd orthogonally all about, invisible tho' now and then sens'd otherwise, behind wall-paper, plaster, laths, and scantlings,— Gazes attach'd,— unable, it dawns upon each, not to regard the other with just this steady Amusement.
"Say, the next Chapter's a Pippin," Ethelmer whispers. "May I read it to you? Promise I'll keep my voice down."
"Thoughtful as ever, 'Thel," Brae looking about now for some item of Furniture to sit upon other than the Bed, and finding none.
"We might sit upon the 'Magickal Carpet' in the Corner, as we did when children," he suggests.
"We might." Adverting45 to the Bed, rather, with a sure domestick Touch she sweeps Pillows and Bolsters46 into a longitudinal Berm more symbolick than practickal, and lies down upon one side of it. "Let us have another Candle first," says she, "that we not Ruin our Eyes in this Light."
"Nor fail to see in vivid Detail, what otherwise we'd merely have to imagine.”
"Lament47 your own Imagination, Coz, but do not under-rate mine by quite so much."
"Say, nor's mine that feeble, Brae."
"Shh. Read away,— and if I fall asleep, pray do nothing rude."
"Fear not. All will be done with Refinement48."
" 'Thel— "
And so off they minuet, to become detour'd from the Revd's narrative49 Turnpike onto the pleasant Track of their own mutual50 Fascination51, by way of the Captive's Tale.
One night I dream that I have come to a Bridge across a broad River, with small settlements at either approach, and in its center, at the highest point of its Arch, a Curious Structure, some nights invisible in the river mists, Lanthorns burning late,— a Toll52-House. Not ev'ryone is allow'd through, nor is paying the Toll any guarantee of Passage. The gate-keepers are members of a Sect53 who believe that by choosing cor?rectly which shall dwell one side of this River, and which the other, the future happiness of the land may be assur'd. Those rejected often return to one of the Inns cluster'd at either end of the Bridge, take a bed for the night, and try again in the morning. Some stay more than one night. When the Bills become too burdensome, the Pilgrims who wish strongly enough to cross, may seek employment right there,— at the Ale-Draper's, or the laundry, or among the Doxology,— and keep waiting, their original purpose in wanting to cross often forgotten, along with other information that once seem'd important, such as faces, and their Names,— whose owners come now to my rooms to visit, and to instruct me in my Responsibilities, back wherever it is I came from. They say they have known me all my life, and seek to bring me away, "home" to where I may at least be seen to by Blood. Perhaps there is a young man, professing54 with the skill of an amateur actor to be my hus?band. "Eliza! do tha not recognize me? The little Ones,— " and so forth. Someone I cannot abide55. Stubbornly, I look for some explanation of this Order to live upon a side of the River I'd rather be across from than on.
"You're bold, I'll give ye that."
"I don't belong on this side."
"What do you know of these things? Go back to your Husband."
"He is not my Husband."
"Had you cross'd this Stream, you would have liv'd a life of signal unhappiness. Go, and survive for long enough to understand the gift we have made you."
One night the Wolf of Jesus understands,— in one of those thoughtlessly fatal Instants,— that Zhang has been fluent in Spanish all the while. Zhang watches him remember, one by one, the many Utterances56 he has felt free to make, in the Chinaman's hearing. The traditional next Step is simply to have Zhang dropp'd off the Roof during one of the night Drills,— the usual Tragedy. But then the Spaniard may see an opportu?nity to remove certain memories, and substitute others,— thus control?ling the very Stuff of History.
To any mind at all Inquisitorial, an appealing turn of Fate,— yet the Spaniard is disappointed, soon bitterly so, at Zhang's willingness cheer?fully3 to forget all he may have heard, to recite whatever catechism of the Past the Spaniard prefers. The Wolf of Jesus, perhaps never aware that Lies and Truth will converge57, albeit58 far from this Place,— takes particu?lar Pleasure in accusing Zhang of holding something back,— a Game which Mathematickally he cannot lose. "There was another such Remark. You remember it well. Damme if the Baton59 won't part it from ye, along with some Skin,"— such mention of Torture increasing day by day, as if his Alternatives had narrow'd to it. 'Tis then Zhang begins to plan his Departure.
Observing him, learning infallibly where he may be at any given Hour, she understands when he will leave, and in the instant decides to go with him,— dropping her Errands, as her Habit, stealing from the Indian Quarters a Boy's Breech-Clout, Robe, and Leggings, finding an unus'd Confessional Booth, sliding her unbound feet into soft Moc?casins, dressing60 in deer-skin,— hoping to be taken for a Boy, she joins Zhang, who, with no choice but to take her, pretends no interest in her bared limbs and sleek61 muscles ever in motion, as the Fugitives62 cau?tiously seek exit from the City, in a Departure as bound to the Terrain63 as her dream'd one had been sky-borne.
In their Instruction of the Novices64, the Jesuits spoke65 of early Euro?pean Arrivals upon the Continent,— Winters, long and Mortal and soon enough productive of Visitants from beneath the Ice, have ever been among the Terms of Settlement here. This northern Desert was too cruel to winter in at all separately, the only way thro' till Spring was to gather as many people as possible into a Hall. "The Disadvan?tage to this Method," according to P. de la Tube, "being, that in crowded Quarters, one crazy Swede could lead to a deterioration66 in liv?ing conditions, up to and not excluding a House-ful of Corpses67, come the Springtide."
What moral instruction does th' American Winter bring them, hiding upon the stark68 hill-side, the River remote as Heaven, below? Jesuits on horseback, in black riding-Habits with divided Skirts, patrol the Streets. From some avian drama above, long black Feathers blow one by one down toward where the Battoes once landed to take the City. The Wind keeps remorselessly Northern, and she wraps herself as she may into the Robe. She understands, at some turn in this, that she has not yet pray'd,— nor should she pray, not now. That is over. This is a journey onward69, into a Country unknown,— an Act of Earth, irrevocable as tak?ing Flight.
All the way down the River, keeping to the south shore, into Six Nations territory, not so much fleeing Jesuit pursuit, as racing70 their own Desire. One day, when they have gain'd the Mohawk, the Ice upon the River begins its catastrophic Rip and Boom, Blocks of it piling up into Pinna?cles and Edifices71, and Spring has caught up with them.
Guided by Captain Zhang's miraculous72 Luo-Pan, they proceed inland and south, to Fort Stanwix, and then on to Johnson Castle, above the Mohawk, arriving at the end of their Strength, moving down a Colonnade73 of Lombardy Poplars, slow as a Dream, observing about them Indian men smoking together in the clement74 Afternoon, or shaking Peach-Pits in a Bowl and betting upon the Results, whilst children run about with Sticks and Balls and women sit together with their Work, and there he is, himself the Irish Baronet, wearing Skins, and a Raccoon Hat, out among his People, the Serfs of Johnson Castle, moving easily among the groups, switching among the English, Mohawk, Seneca, and Onondaga Lan?guages as needed.
The Chinaman presents him a curious sort of Metallick Plate, which Sir William scrutinizes75, before relaxing into a less guarded Smile. The two exchange a complicated Hand-shake that seems to her to go on as long as an item of Town Gossip might, between Women. "And how is the old Pirate these days?"
"He bade me remind you,—
"— of that which, as a cautious man, you may not mention immedi?ately. Good. Who's this Lad with you? Bit weedy, 's he not? Could use a couple of Bear Chops, fry him some Mush, few Pints76 of Ale, be well on the way to recovery." Sir William approaches her. "Do you speak any English, boy?"
"Little," she whispers.
Something alerts him. He takes her chin gently by the side of his Index, and raises her Face, and narrows his Gaze. "The way of a Warrior77 is not to be chosen lightly," he advises her, "as a Girl might choose a Gown."
"She knew that," says the Chinaman. "That is, he.— He knew that."
"It's all right, Captain," in what she's surpriz'd to hear is her own Voice of old. "Sir, I am Eliza Fields, of Conestoga. This Gentleman has been kind enough to help me escape the French."
"Why bless me,— but he's not an Indian, either!" cries Sir William Johnson. "I am reputed the Soul of Subtlety78 in these parts, yet am I now the Bumpkin,— well, even a Churl79 may be taught, Sir. Tell me. What's the Story?"
They tell him.
"Then sure as Mahoney's Mother-in-Law there'll be a Jesuit Pursuit Party thro' here, and soon. Don't expect your Spaniard to wait for Sum?mer. Blood that hot, they bring their own Seasons with 'em."
"I know him," says Zhang. "He is very patient.”
"Howbeit,— a few more Mohawks about can't hurt. And you won't stay here forever. Will ye?"
"And you will of course present my Compliments to your Masonick Lodge," Capt. Zhang twinkling resentfully.
They arrange, thro' Sir William, for a safe-passage as far down the Delaware as they will need. In all the journey, the Chinaman has never attempted to force his Attentions upon her. Any Relief she may feel is undone81 by her anxiety over when and how the subject will arise,— that is, come up,— that is, one night in an abandon'd Beast-pen in New-Jersey, as they hold one another for warmth, feeling reckless, she reaches down, as she has been taught by the Order, and discovers his Wand of Masculinity in earnest Erection.
"Perhaps we'd do better to skip over this part," gallant82 Thelmer sug?gests.
"I've already read to the bottom of the next Page," coolly replies Brae, "so there's not much to do about it, save read on."
Thro' the Gloom, close enough for her to see, he smiles. Zhang does.
"Now then, Zhang," she whispers. "It's been there ev'ry day. Hasn't it."
"Yet,— observe." And as if at his Command, it wilts83, no less dramat-ickally than it arose.
"What did I do?" she mutters.
"Mistress, to you and me, any, what we style, in Chinese, Yin-Yang, is forbidden," he tells her. "We were not born to play Theatrickal roles assign'd us by others, for their Amusement."
"What are you talking about? The first man I approach in my life, and he says no. Aahhh!"
"Attend me,— I get into a lascivious84 state now and then.— I'm Chi?nese all the time. That doesn't make me a Lascivious Chinaman. Nor you, mutatis mutandis, a Debauch'd Heretick Maid."
"Yet,— suppose that's what we really are. Really ought to be."
"As you will, Mistress. Meanwhile, either we are trying to escape these Assassins, or we're not. Do you wish to return?"
For a moment she is all in a Daze85. Her Eye-Lashes a-cycle, "What contempt you must have for me....”
"On the contrary," he whispers. "I adore you. Especially in that 'cute Deerskin Costume."
"Then...?— "
"It's a Sino-Jesuit Affair. Nothing you'd even wish to understand."
Well, then. Why didn't Blondelle mention anything like this? In his Particulars, Zhang corresponds to few, if any, of her Mentrix's detail'd Notions about the other Sex...Blondelle, whom she will never again climb into bed with as the cruel Rain assails86 the Windows— That is, unless she be caught, and return'd. Somewhere in the Jesuit Maze87, she's been told, waits a special windowless Cell lin'd entirely88 in Black Velvet89, upon which wink80 various bright Metal Fittings...a mysterious Space she has more than curiously90 long'd to enter...'tis where they put the Runaways91 who come back. Who wish to come back— Her thoughts thus in a whirl, she falls asleep in his Embrace, not waking till the Dawn of the cloud-drap'd Day, to feel him hard as ever, and press'd against her. She begins hoping they'll find some popula?tion soon.
The smell of wood-smoke is more and more with them, as often, thro' the newly green Trees, Cabins and out-buildings appear. They are chal-leng'd by Bulls, and chas'd by farm-dogs whose meanness is not improv'd by the doubtful Edibility92 of their intended Prey.
"That's what they call 'Chinese,' Buck93."
"Not sure I'd want to eat that."
"Not sure you're going to catch that."
The other Dogs are pacing and posing like Wolves, putting on tight-lipp'd Smiles. "Well, they're fast, but,— "
"— not that fast...."
The fugitives learn to carry Staffs. Soon they look like Pilgrims, soon after that they begin to feel like Pilgrims. All the while, the Luo-Pan is trembling and growing hot to the Touch.
At last, as the Green Halations about the Hillsides reduce to material Certainty, they arrive at the West Line, and decide to follow the Visto east, and ere long they have come up with the Party. They are greeted by most of the Commissary, headed by Mo McClean,— the Hands more agog94 than they should be allowing themselves, by now, to be sent, by
such Apparitions,— and assign'd Quarters separated by a good Chain and a Half's worth of Gazes, Stares, and Glares—
"Shall I see you more?" she mutters more than pleads.
"Shall you continue to question your choice?"
"Yes.— Pleas'd you're smiling, for a Change. You must think we're all amusing."
"What non-Chinese people find of Importance, may now and then be
very amusing indeed Will you return to Canada?"
"It wasn't all bad there," she lets him know.
"Easy for you to say,— Viudita."
"Sir."
"You are provoking me. My own experience was a bit different."
"Oh, you weren't having such a bad time of it, that I could see, miss?ing few if any mess calls, indeed quite plump, and ever in good Humor, not as you are now. Why should you've ever wanted to leave, is past me."
"In China 'tis consider'd greatly unwise, to escape one Captivity95 in order to embrace another. To my Sins, so must I add Foolishness."
"Why, you're free as a bird. What Captivity,— " But he is gazing at her with those enigmatic Chinese Eyes she pretends she cannot read. She turns her head a bit, then looks back sidewise. "And will the Spaniard come after us?"
"Because he believes I stole you."
"Another Reason, then, for me to be upon my Way. Once, I would have sigh'd. Please, one Day, imagine me as having sigh'd."
"Shall you return to your Husband, then?"
"Either to the Jesuits, or to him?— That's my full list of Choices? Poh upon ye, Zhang, and poh upon your Yin-Yang, too." She twirls her Nose in the air, and departs.
She is bunking96 with Zsuzsa Szabo, the operator of the automatick Battle of Leuthen, a pleasant-looking young woman who, wearing the dress uni?form of the Nádasdy Hussars, had one day, astride a splendid Arab Horse, overtaken the Party. "Hello, Boys,— it's Zsuzsa." She has a charmingly un-English way of saying this. Axmen arrest their swings, so
violently that Axes stand still in the Air, their Recoils97 sending some of their axmen a-whirl the other way,— Indians crouch'd in the Brush gaze, and marvel98 at how she's painted her face, the Milk-maids whisper together at length. She has been on the move since the Battle of Leuthen, in 1757, in which, disguis'd as a Youth, riding in a detachment of light cavalry99, she was not so much visited by understanding, as allow'd briefly100 to pay Attention to what had been there all the time,— seeing then her clear duty, to bring word of what was about to emerge into the World from the Prussian Plains. From a simple recital101, with gestures, of the Events of the Battle, has develop'd a kind of Street-Show, with Accordion102 musick, Dog tricks and Gypsy Dancing, and an automatick miniature or Orrery of Engagement, displaying the movements of the troops as many times as the curious Student may wish.
Later, the Surveyors come by the Tent, each for a short Visit. Dixon, now that Eliza knows what to look for, seems to her fully as fascinated as the Chinaman, with her Deerskin Costume. As he leaves, backing out the tent-flap, all a-hum, he nearly collides with Mason, who mutters, "That likely, is it?" glaring Dixon upon his way before adverting to the young Woman,— whereupon he is seiz'd with what later he will describe to Dixon as an "Ague of Soul,"— fierce heat, deep shivering,— for a moment, she assumes 'tis the Indian turnout again, till she sees his so pale and sadden'd Face.
"Excuse me." He sits in an oblate Heap upon the tent-floor, removes his Hat, fans himself. "You resemble far too faithfully One whom I have not beheld,— not in Body,— for seven years. More than merely some general Likeness103, Madam,— you are her Point-for-Point Repre?sentation."
She runs a hand over her Crop. "I can't imagine her Hair was the same." This was how the Widows taught their Novices to Flirt104. "Or,— deciding Hair may be a safe Topick with this one, but little else, she doesn't go on.
"Allowing for all that, of course." His eyes shifting about in their Sockets105 like insects about Candle-flames.
"Sir. ..I am the elder daughter of Joseph Fields, of Conestoga Creek106. Last Winter, I was taken by a band of Shawanese,—
"Be easy, Child. I shan't insanely presume you to be she, I'm merely Torpedo-struck,— it's not only the separate Parts, but your Bearing of them as well...your bodily Gesturing, your Voice— Attend me,— do you believe that the Dead return?"
"Sir, you are distraught, perhaps even about to behave irresponsi?bly?— Eeoo, Mr. Mason!— I think not!— Is there by chance a Chaplain attach'd to your Party?"
"Regrettably, yes. I try never to seek his Counsel."
"I meant, that I might wish to."
"Of course. Our Reverend Cherrycoke. Excellent man."
("You're making that one up," Uncle Lomax now wagging a Finger he eventually hits himself in the Nose with.
"And did she seek your counsel?" inquires Ives.
"Oh, I got into the matter, after a bit," recalls the Revd. "Tho' Mason was the one who needed Spiritual Advice.")
"Is it Transmigration, Rev12?" all but pleading, following me ev'ry-where, even out to the Latrine, "What are the Chances? Come, Sir. You can give it to me straight."
The Revd cannot help having a fast look over at the Visto, and remarking in his own Tap-room cadence107, "Around here? how else?" Squatting108 over the noisome109 Trench110, as Mason paces to and fro, he spec?ulates that the Resemblance so confounding Mason is less likely the Transmigration of a Soul, than the Resurrection of a Body,— in enough of its Particulars to convince him 'tis she. Yet the Soul he imagines as newly inhabiting their Guest, must in any case have forgotten its previ?ous life as Rebekah Mason. "The Slate111 cleanly wash'd,— no way to prove who she's been. As in Plato's Tale of Er, she'll have drunk from Lethe, and begun anew."
"And if she comes,— or is sent,— as a sort of Corporeal112 Agent, to fin9?ish, in behalf of my Wife's Spirit, some Business that only the Body knows how to transact113?" His Voice much too high and loud, about to careen upon him.
The Revd runs thro' the possibilities, now and then, he fears, cluck?ing. "Well I do hope not. That is, you are titular114 Party-Chief here, and may come and go as you please,— yet...”
"Yet I grow, I fear, not more bestial115 as you imply, but less,— even the activity you now so freely engage in, being denied me for longer than I now remember."
"Ye've taken Daffy's Elixir116?"
"It means first asking Dixon, who holds the Key to the Dispen?sary. It thus means, as well, a certain Smirk117, that I am not sure I can abide."
"He is, I collect, an Habitue of that Compound." The Revd, having wip'd his Arse with a handful of Clover, draws up his Breeches again.
"Just so. I have felt oblig'd to abstain118 from it, even as he superdoses himself,— for the sake of Equilibrium119 in the Party."
"Admirable, of course, as are all acts of self-denial. Usually. Are you certain you're telling me ev'rything?"
"Being clench'd in all other Ways," remarks Mason, "there likely is something I'm holding back."
That night, or perhaps the next, Mason wakes from a dream, one he has had before. Trying to get back to the mill in Wherr, he keeps being set down by carts and coaches farther and farther away.. .all at once he and Rebekah are traveling together, on foot, till they are pick'd up by a Stranger in a Coach and taken to a House whose residents she knows, where she is seduced120, not entirely against her will, by this band of for?eign, dimly political, dimly sinister men and women. She lies still, pas?sive, allowing them all to handle her. Mason, in despair, watches a kind of lengthy121 Ritual. He does not intervene because she has told him, in painfully direct language, that he no longer has the right. Once she flicks122 her eyes toward him, as if to make sure he's looking...but only once, and briefly. Who are they? what is their mission? their Name?
Structur'd servitude, a fore-view of Purgatory123, a Prison that works thro' bribes124, threats, favors, with rules it may be fatal not to know...she, perhaps willingly, taken into it, under it,— he cannot follow. Can as lit?tle charm as sing his way in. He knows only straightforwardly125 squalid Pelhamite arrangements,— here all is illegible126, in a light forever about to fail.
Worse, he shall have to return in dreams to this same place, again and again, the layout of the rooms ever the same, the same doors having but
just closed, the invisible occupants having only just gone away,...the whispering across the Wall he can almost hear— He wakes with his hands in fists, dried tears in cold lines 'cross his Temples. She is where the Frenchmen in their make-believe chateaux, perfum'd, intricately bewigg'd, stop all day at their toilettes, safe from the cold consensus127 that ignores dream in its Reckonings,—
France, French agents of Death,— at the worst of the fight between the Seahorse and l'Grand, in all that tearful fall from humanity, his Bow?els seconds away from letting go, there had wrapp'd 'round him the cer?tainty that whatever was come for him now, had also come for her then,— not in the way of a Bailiff or Assassin, at all selective, but rather as a Dredge, a Scavenger128, foraging129 blind, unto which Mason sens'd him?self about to be gather'd, as mindlessly as any seaman130 above-decks, for?ever to him nameless.
They were possessing her in ways more intimate than had ever been allow'd him...interfering131 at orders of minitude invisible to human Eye, infiltrated132 without need of light or Map, commanding the further branches of whatever flows in a Soul like blood,...she and her Captors whispering together incessantly133, in a language they knew, and he did not, and what language could it be? not any French as he'd ever heard it,— too fast and guttural and without grace...they all spoke at incredible Speed, without pause for breath. For where breath has ceas'd, what need for the little pauses of mortal speech, that pass among us ever unnotic'd?
His father appear'd. "And give some thought to your spinsterr there, so abandon'd and gay. You'rre a genius at pickin' 'em, Boy. It has only now come to light, how she was the thrown-aside toy of a Leadenhall Street Nabob, who visits your dearr friends the Peaches now and then for East India business, and country Sport,— and their attentions to you are conditional134 upon your marrying her."
They were together in a room. She was about to depart. "I commend you upon your Forbearance, Madam. Most Christian135."
"You mean considering all that your Father has said about me. Why, Sensibility,— 'tis nothing to me anymore. Pray release yourself."
He felt he had to go on. " 'Twas never you, 'Heart, 'twas me he wish'd to wound.— “
"On second thought," Rebekah swiftly return'd, "cherish your Antag?onism. Let it freeze your souls, both of you. Either Choice lies far from me now."
Her representative in the waking world, pale and distant, squats136 by the Coffee, poking137 the Morning Fire. A little less solid each day, she is drifting toward her own Absence. She looks up warily138 as Mason makes a Loxodrome for the Pot.
"You've dreamt of her, again."
"Thankee. With your Hair growing in, you don't look like her that much anymore."
"I never did. Zsuzsa wants us to go off and be Adventuresses."
"Seth... quite out of the Picture, then, I take it?"
"If your Travels take you by Conestoga, put your Ears to the Wind, fol?low the sounds of merry Indulgence, and where they are loudest, there shall Seth be, and you will note how he mourns me."
"Ne'er met the Lad, of course,—
"Good Morning, kicsi káposta," Zsuzsa striding in and embracing her co-adventuress-to-be from behind. They smile and stretch, glowing like cheap iron Stoves burning Heart-Wood in the Dark, just that distance from no light at all.
Rebekah, her eyelids139 never blinking, for where all is Dust, Dust shall be no more, confronts him upon surfaces not so much "random140" as out?law,— uncontroll'd by any apparent End or Purpose,— in the penumbra141 of God's concern, that's if you don't mind comparing his Regard with a solar Eclipse. Moving water,— Mason tries to go fishing whenever he can, for there is no telling what the next Riffle may present him,— the rock Abysses and mountainsides, leaves in the wind announcing a Storm,.. .Shadows of wrought142 ironwork upon a wall,.. .the kissing-crusts of new-baked loaves— On the Indian warrior paths to and from tri?umphs, captivities, and death, in the lanes overgrown of abandoned vil?lages at the turn of the day, in the rusted143 ending of the sky's light, in the full eye of the wind, she stands, waiting to speak to him. What more has she to say? He has long run out of replies. "Then I am not she, but a Rep-
resentation. This Thing,"— she will not style it, "Death." "I am detain'd here, in this Thing.. .that my Body all the while was capable of and lead?ing me to, and carried with it surely as the other Thing, the Thing our Bodies could do, together...," she will not style it, "Love." Has she for?gotten Words, over there where Tongues are still'd, and no need for either exists?
收听单词发音 |
1
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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shamefully
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| 可耻地； 丢脸地； 不体面地； 羞耻地 | |
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shrimps
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| n.虾，小虾( shrimp的名词复数 )；矮小的人 | |
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nuns
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| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
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coordinated
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| adj.协调的 | |
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fin
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| n.鳍；(飞机的)安定翼 | |
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gruel
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| n.稀饭，粥 | |
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bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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pro
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| n.赞成，赞成的意见，赞成者 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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engraving
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| n.版画；雕刻（作品）；雕刻艺术；镌版术v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的现在分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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inexplicably
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| adv.无法说明地，难以理解地，令人难以理解的是 | |
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intriguing
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| adj.有趣的；迷人的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的现在分词)；激起…的好奇心 | |
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renderings
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| n.（戏剧或乐曲的）演奏( rendering的名词复数 )；扮演；表演；翻译作品 | |
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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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unbearably
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| adv.不能忍受地，无法容忍地；慌 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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blurts
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的第三人称单数 ) | |
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synopsis
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| n.提要，梗概 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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belles
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| n.美女( belle的名词复数 )；最美的美女 | |
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wraith
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| n.幽灵；骨瘦如柴的人 | |
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frustrating
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| adj.产生挫折的，使人沮丧的，令人泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的现在分词 )；挫败；使受挫折；令人沮丧 | |
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con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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creditors
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| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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pry
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| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
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forgeries
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| 伪造( forgery的名词复数 )； 伪造的文件、签名等 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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injustices
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| 不公平( injustice的名词复数 )； 非正义； 待…不公正； 冤枉 | |
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prematurely
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| adv.过早地，贸然地 | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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entity
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| n.实体，独立存在体，实际存在物 | |
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hawks
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| 鹰( hawk的名词复数 )； 鹰派人物，主战派人物 | |
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43
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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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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adverting
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| 引起注意（advert的现在分词形式） | |
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46
bolsters
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| n.长枕( bolster的名词复数 )；垫子；衬垫；支持物v.支持( bolster的第三人称单数 )；支撑；给予必要的支持；援助 | |
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47
lament
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| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
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48
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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51
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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52
toll
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| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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sect
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| n.派别，宗教，学派，派系 | |
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54
professing
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| 声称( profess的现在分词 )； 宣称； 公开表明； 信奉 | |
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55
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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56
utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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57
converge
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| vi.会合；聚集，集中；(思想、观点等)趋近 | |
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58
albeit
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| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
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59
baton
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| n.乐队用指挥杖 | |
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60
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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61
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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62
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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63
terrain
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| n.地面，地形，地图 | |
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novices
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| n.新手( novice的名词复数 )；初学修士（或修女）；（修会等的）初学生；尚未赢过大赛的赛马 | |
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65
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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66
deterioration
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| n.退化；恶化；变坏 | |
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67
corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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68
stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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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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70
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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71
edifices
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| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
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72
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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73
colonnade
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| n.柱廊 | |
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74
clement
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| adj.仁慈的；温和的 | |
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75
scrutinizes
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的第三人称单数 ) | |
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76
pints
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| n.品脱( pint的名词复数 )；一品脱啤酒 | |
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77
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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78
subtlety
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| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
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79
churl
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| n.吝啬之人；粗鄙之人 | |
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80
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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81
undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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82
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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83
wilts
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的第三人称单数 ) | |
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84
lascivious
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| adj.淫荡的，好色的 | |
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85
daze
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| v.(使)茫然，(使)发昏 | |
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assails
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| v.攻击( assail的第三人称单数 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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88
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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89
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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90
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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91
runaways
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| （轻而易举的）胜利( runaway的名词复数 ) | |
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92
edibility
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| 适食性，可食性； 可食用性 | |
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93
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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94
agog
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| adj.兴奋的，有强烈兴趣的； adv.渴望地 | |
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95
captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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96
bunking
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| v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的现在分词 )；空话，废话 | |
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97
recoils
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| n.（尤指枪炮的）反冲，后坐力( recoil的名词复数 )v.畏缩( recoil的第三人称单数 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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98
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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99
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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100
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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101
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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102
accordion
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| n.手风琴；adj.可折叠的 | |
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103
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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104
flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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105
sockets
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| n.套接字，使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 )；孔( socket的名词复数 )；（电器上的）插口；托座；凹穴 | |
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106
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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107
cadence
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| n.（说话声调的）抑扬顿挫 | |
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108
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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109
noisome
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| adj.有害的，可厌的 | |
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110
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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111
slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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112
corporeal
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| adj.肉体的，身体的；物质的 | |
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113
transact
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| v.处理；做交易；谈判 | |
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114
titular
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| adj.名义上的，有名无实的；n.只有名义（或头衔）的人 | |
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115
bestial
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| adj.残忍的；野蛮的 | |
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116
elixir
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| n.长生不老药，万能药 | |
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117
smirk
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| n.得意地笑；v.傻笑；假笑着说 | |
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118
abstain
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| v.自制，戒绝，弃权，避免 | |
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119
equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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120
seduced
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| 诱奸( seduce的过去式和过去分词 )； 勾引； 诱使堕落； 使入迷 | |
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121
lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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122
flicks
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的第三人称单数 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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123
purgatory
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| n.炼狱；苦难；adj.净化的，清洗的 | |
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124
bribes
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| n.贿赂( bribe的名词复数 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂v.贿赂( bribe的第三人称单数 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
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125
straightforwardly
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| adv.正直地 | |
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126
illegible
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| adj.难以辨认的，字迹模糊的 | |
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127
consensus
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| n.(意见等的)一致，一致同意，共识 | |
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128
scavenger
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| n.以腐尸为食的动物，清扫工 | |
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129
foraging
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| v.搜寻（食物），尤指动物觅（食）( forage的现在分词 )；（尤指用手）搜寻（东西） | |
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130
seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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131
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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132
infiltrated
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| adj.[医]浸润的v.（使）渗透，（指思想）渗入人的心中( infiltrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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133
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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134
conditional
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| adj.条件的，带有条件的 | |
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135
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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136
squats
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| n.蹲坐，蹲姿( squat的名词复数 )；被擅自占用的建筑物v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的第三人称单数 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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137
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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138
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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139
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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140
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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141
penumbra
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| n.（日蚀）半影部 | |
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142
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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143
rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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