For the sly beast lies
Coiled in the brake
Of your sleepy eyes,
Lo, at your glances my weak soul dies.
Woman you are
With a face so fair;
All the woman there.
Your eyes affright, but your smiles ensnare.
Such a poor room it was, with a well-worn carpet, shabby furniture, a dingy2 mirror over the fireplace, and a mean sordid3 look everywhere. The bright sunshine, pouring in through the dirty windows, showed up the weak points of the apartment in the most relentless4 manner. Great folding-doors at one side half open, showing an untidy bedroom beyond, and on the other side the many-paned windows, veiled by ragged5 curtains, looked out into Jepple Street, Bloomsbury.
There was a shaky round table in the centre of the apartment, on which was spread a doubtfully clean cloth, and on it the remains6 of a very poor breakfast. An egg half eaten, a teacup half filled, and a portion of bread on the plate showed that the person for whom this meal was provided had not finished, and, indeed, she was leaning on the table with her elbows, looking at a copy of the Daily Telegraph.
A noticeable woman this, frowning down on the newspaper with tightly closed lips, and one whom it would be unwise to offend.. After a pause she pushed the paper away, arose to her feet, and marching across to the dingy mirror, surveyed herself long and anxiously. The face that looked out at her from the glass was a remarkable7 one.
Dark, very dark, with fierce black eyes under strongly marked eyebrows8, masses of rough dark hair carelessly twisted up into a heavy coil, a thin-lipped, flexible mouth and a general contour of face not at all English. She had slender brown hands, which looked powerful in spite of their delicacy9, and a good figure, though just now it was concealed10 by a loose dressing-gown of pale yellow silk much discoloured and stained. With her strange barbaric face, her gaudy11 dress, Mrs. Belswin was certainly a study for a painter.
Mrs. Belswin, so she called herself; but she looked more like a savage12 queen than a civilised woman. She should have been decked with coloured beads13, with fantastic feathers, with barbaric bracelets14, with strangely striped skins, as it was she was an anomaly, an incongruity15, in the poor room of poor lodging-house, staring at her fierce face in the dingy mirror.
Mrs. Munser, who kept the establishment, acknowledged to her intimate friend, Mrs. Pegs16, that the sight of this lady had given her a turn; and certainly no one could blame cockney Mrs. Munser, for of all the strange people that might be seen in London, this lithe17, savage-looking woman was surely the strangest. Indian jungles, African forests, South American pampas, she would have been at home there, having all the appearance and fire of a woman of the tropics; but to see her in dull, smoky London--it was extraordinary.
After scrutinising herself for a time, she began to talk aloud in a rich full voice, which was broken every now and then by a guttural note which betrayed the savage; yet she chose her words well, she spoke18 easily, and rolled her words in a soft labial19 manner suggestive of the Italian language. Yet she was not an Italian.
"Twenty years ago," she muttered savagely20, "nearly twenty years ago, and I have hardly ever seen her. I must do so now, when Providence21 has put this chance into my hands. They can't keep a mother from her child. God's laws are stronger than those of man. Rupert would put the ocean between us if he could, but now he's in New Zealand, so for a time I will be able to see her, to speak to her, to hold her in my arms; not as her mother,--no, not as her mother,--but as her paid servant."
She turned away from the mirror with a savage gesture, and walked slowly up and down the room with the soft sinuous22 movement of a panther. Her soft silk dress rustled23 as she walked, and her splendid hair, released by her sudden movement, fell like a black veil over her shoulders. She thrust the tresses back from her temples with impatient hands, and her face looked forth24 from the cloud of hair, dark, sombre, and savage, with a flash of the fierce eyes and vicious click of the strong white teeth.
"Curses on the man who took me away from her. I did not care for him, with his yellow hair and pink face. Why did I go? Why was I such a fool? I left her, my own child, for him, and went out into the world an outcast, for his sake. God! God! Why are women such fools?"
For a moment she stood with uplifted hands, as if awaiting an answer; but none came, so, letting her arms fall, she walked back to her chair, and lighting25 a cigarette, placed it in her mouth.
"I daren't use a pipe here," she said, with a discordant26 laugh, "it would not be respectable. But Spanish women smoke cigarettes, Russian women smoke cigarettes, so why should not the Maori woman smoke them also. Respectable, eh! Well, I'm going to be respectable now, when I've answered this."
This was an advertisement in the paper, which read as follows--
"Wanted, a companion for a young lady. Apply by letter, Dombrain, 13, Chintler Lane, City."
"Apply by letter," muttered Mrs. Belswin, with a sneer27. "Indeed I won't, Alfred Dombrain. I'll apply in person, and I think I'll obtain the situation. I'll hold it, too--hold it till Rupert returns, and then--and then----"
She sprang to her feet and blew a cloud of smoke with a mocking laugh. "And then, my husband, I'll match myself against you."
"Salve dimora casta e pura."
The singer was coming slowly upstairs, and, as he finished the line, knocked at the door.
"Stephano," said Mrs. Belswin, with a frown, glancing at the clock; "what can he want so early? Avanti."
The door opened and Stephano, the singer, a tall, lithe Italian, with a beaming smile, presented himself and burst out into a torrent28 of greeting.
"Buon Giorno cara mia! Ah, my beautiful Lucrezia! my splendid Norma! how like an angel you look this morning. Gran dio che grazia. Signora, I kiss your hand."
He dropped on one knee in an affectedly29 theatrical30 manner and pressed his lips to Mrs. Belswin's hand, upon which she twitched31 it away with a frown, and spoke roughly to her adorer.
"What do you want, Ferrari?"
"Niente! niente! but to pay a visit of ceremony."
"It's not customary to pay visits of ceremony at ten o'clock in the morning. I wish you would go away. I'm busy."
"Che donna," said the Italian. With a gesture of admiration32, and taking off his hat, sat down on the sofa.
Stephano Ferrari was a handsome man in a wicked way. He was tall and slender, with a dark, expressive33 face, white teeth, which gleamed under his heavy black moustache, wonderfully fine eyes, and a bland34, ingratiating manner. English he spoke remarkably35 well, having been for many years away from his native land, but had a habit of interlarding his conversation with Italian ejaculations, which, in conjunction with his carefully-learnt English, had a somewhat curious effect. Being the tenor36 of an opera company in New York, he had become acquainted with Mrs. Belswin, who was also in the profession, and had fallen violently in love with this splendid-looking woman, who had so many of the characteristics of his countrywomen. Mrs. Belswin did not reciprocate38 this passion, and treated him with marked discourtesy; but this only added fuel to the fire of his love, much to her annoyance39, as Ferrari had all the ardour and violence of his race strongly developed, and was likely to prove dangerous if she did not return his passion, a thing she felt by no means inclined to do.
At present he sat smiling on the sofa before her, adjusted his bright red tie, ran his fingers through his curly hair, and then twisted the ends of his moustache with peculiarly aggravating40 complacency.
"Don't you hear what I say?" said Mrs. Belswin, stamping her foot angrily. "I'm busy. Go away."
"Bid me not fly from those star-like eyes," sang the Signor, rolling a cigarette with deft41 fingers. "Ah, che bella musica. If the words were but my beautiful Italian instead of this harsh English. Dio! It hurts the throat, your speaking--fog-voiced pigs that you are."
"Take your abuse and yourself somewhere else," replied Mrs. Belswin, bringing her hand down sharply on the table. "I tell you I'm busy. You never leave me alone, Stephano. You followed me over from America, and now you stay beside me all day. Why do you make such a fool of yourself?"
"Because I love thee, carissima. Let me light this; not at thine eyes--stelle radiante--but from thy cigarette. Grazia!"
Mrs. Belswin knew of old that when Ferrari was in this humour nothing reasonable could be expected from him; so, resigned to the inevitable42, she let him light his cigarette as he wished, then, flinging herself down on her chair, looked moodily43 at him.
"How long is this foolery going to last?" she demanded caustically44.
"Till you become the Signora Ferrari."
"That will never be."
"Was there ever such a man?" burst out Mrs. Belswin, viciously. "He won't take no for an answer."
"Not from thee, Donna Lucrezia."
"Don't call me Donna Lucrezia.
"Perchè?"
"Because I'm tired of opera. I'm tired of you. I'm tired of everything. I'm going to leave all the old life and become respectable."
"The life of a singer is always respectable," declared Ferrari, mendaciously46. "You mean to leave me, Signora?"
"Yes, I do."
"Ebbene! we shall see."
"What claim have you on me? None. I met you in America two years ago. We nag47 together for a time, and because of that you persecute48 me with you ridiculous attentions."
"I love thee."
"I don't want your love."
"Veramente!"
"No!"
She spoke defiantly49, and folding her arms stared steadily50 at her persistent51 lover. The Italian, however, was not at all annoyed. He simply threw his half-smoked cigarette into the teacup, and rising from his seat stood before her smiling and bland as ever.
"Non e vero, Signora? Ebbene. I am the same. We met in San Francisco two years ago. I was a singer of opera. I obtained for you engagements. I loved you. Carissima, I love thee still! You are cold, cruel, you stone-woman, bella demonia. For long time I have been your slave. You have given me the kicks of a dog. Pazienza, I finish soon. I have told you all of myself. You have told me all of yourself. I come to this fog land with you, and now you say, 'Addio.' Bellissima, Signora, but I am not to be talked to like a child. I love you! and I marry you. Ecco! You will be Signora Ferrari. Senza dubbio!"
Having thus delivered himself of his determination with many smiles and gesticulations, Signor Ferrari bowed in his best stage manner, sat down in his chair and began to roll another cigarette. Mrs. Belswin heard him in silence, the clenching52 of her hands alone betraying her anger, but having had two years' experience of the Italian's character, she knew what to do, and controlling herself with an effort, began to temporise in a highly diplomatic manner.
"I suppose no woman could be indifferent to such love as you profess37, Stephano, and some day I may be able to answer you as you wish--but not now, not now."
"And why, cara mia?"
"Because I am going to see my daughter again."
"Your daughter?"
"Yes! You know I told you all my past life. I was a fool to do so, as it gives you a certain hold over me. But I am a lonely--woman. Your manner was sympathetic, and so--well it's only natural I should wish to confide53 in some one."
"So you confided54 in me. Per l'amor di Dio, Signora. Do not be sorry, I am simpatica! I feel for you. Ah, Dio! It was a terrible story of your husband, and the parting in anger. Basta! Basta! Think of it no more."
"I must! Do you think I can forget the past by a simple effort of will? Happy for me, happy for all, if such a thing could be. But--I have forgotten nothing. That is my punishment!"
"And now, cara?"
"Now I am going to see my dear daughter again."
"She is in London, then? Ah, che gioja."
"Yes! she is in--in England."
"And il marito?"
"He is at the other end of the world."
"Bene. Let him say there!"
Mrs. Belswin nodded her head in savage approval, then began to walk to and fro, talking rapidly.
"While he is away I have a plan. In the paper there is a notice requiring a companion for my daughter."
"How do you know?"
"Because it is put in by a Mr. Dombrain. He is Rupert Pethram's solicitor55. Oh, I know him, better than he thinks. All these years I have been away from my child I have watched over her. Ah, yes! I know all of her life in New Zealand. I have good friends there. I found out when her father brought her to England, and that is why I came over here so quickly. I intended to see her again--to speak to her--but without revealing I was her unhappy mother. But--I was afraid of Pethram. Yes, you may smile, Stephano, but you do not know him. I do."
"E incrédibile. You who fear no one."
"I do not fear him physically," she said proudly, with a savage flash from her fierce eyes. "I fear no man in that way. But I am afraid because of my daughter. She thinks I am dead. It is better than that she should know I am a divorced, disgraced woman. If Sir Rupert were angry he might tell her all, and then--and then--oh, God! I could not bear to see her again. She would despise me. She would look on me with scorn. My own child. Ah, I should die--I should die!"
The tears actually came into her eyes, and for a moment softened56 their fierceness. This woman, hard and undisciplined, with savage instincts derived57 from a savage mother, yet felt the strong maternal58 instinct implanted in the breast of every woman, and quailed59 with terror as she thought of the power her former husband had to lower her in the eyes of her daughter. Ferrari, of course, could not understand this, having been always accustomed to think of Mrs. Belswin as an untamed tigress, but now she had a touch of feminine softness about her which puzzled him.
"Ah! the strangeness of women," he said philosophically60. "Ebbene, now il marito is away, what will you do?"
"I'm going to see Mr. Dombrain, and obtain the situation of companion to my own daughter."
"Not so fast, Signora! She will know you."
"No; she will not know me," replied Mrs. Belswin softly; "she does not remember me. When I left her she was a little child. She thinks I am dead. I go to her as a stranger. It is hard; it is terribly hard. I will see her. I will speak to her. I will perhaps kiss her; but I dare not say, 'child, I am your mother!' Ah, it is cruel--but it is my punishment."
"It is a good plan for you, cara mia! But about me, you forget your faithful Stephano!"
"No, I do not," she said coaxingly61, for she was afraid he would spoil all, knowing what he did; "but you must wait. I want to see my daughter--to live with her for a time. When my husband returns he will know me, so I must leave before he sees me. Then I will come back to thee, carissima."
"Basta!" replied Ferrari, with great reluctance62. "I do not wish to keep you from the child. I am not jealous of il marito."
"You've no cause to be--I hate him."
"Look, then, the love I bear you, carissima mia. Though all your life I know. Though you have had husband and lover, yet I wish to make you mine."
"It is strange," said Mrs. Belswin, indifferently. "I am not a young woman; my good looks are going; my past life is not that of a saint; and yet you would marry me."
"Because I love thee, carissima," said Ferrari, taking her hand. "I have loved many before, but none like thee, bella demonia. Ah, Dio, thou hast the fierceness of the tiger within thee. The hot blood of Italy burns in thy veins63, my Lucrezia Borgia. I am weary of tame women who weep and sigh ever. I am no cold Englishman, thou knowest. The lion seeks but the lioness, and so I come to thee for thy love, stella adorata."
He caressed64 her softly as he spoke these words in his musical voice, and the woman softened under his caress65 with feline66 grace. All the treachery and sleepiness of the panther was observable in this woman; but under the smoothness of her manner lay the fierceness of her savage nature, which was now being controlled by the master hand of the Italian.
"You will let me go to my daughter, then," she said in a soft, languid voice, her fierce eyes dulling under the mesmeric influence of his gaze.
"As you will. I can deny thee nothing, regina del mia vita."
点击
收听单词发音
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1
mar
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| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
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2
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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3
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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4
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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5
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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6
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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7
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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8
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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9
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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10
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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11
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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12
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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13
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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14
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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15
incongruity
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| n.不协调，不一致 | |
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16
pegs
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| n.衣夹( peg的名词复数 )；挂钉；系帐篷的桩；弦钮v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的第三人称单数 )；使固定在某水平 | |
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17
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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18
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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19
labial
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| adj.唇的；唇音的；n.唇音，风琴管 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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21
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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sinuous
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| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
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23
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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25
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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26
discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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27
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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28
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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affectedly
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30
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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31
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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32
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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36
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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profess
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| v.声称，冒称，以...为业，正式接受入教，表明信仰 | |
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reciprocate
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| v.往复运动；互换；回报，酬答 | |
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39
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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44
caustically
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| adv.刻薄地；挖苦地；尖刻地；讥刺地 | |
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45
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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mendaciously
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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48
persecute
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| vt.迫害，虐待；纠缠，骚扰 | |
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49
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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50
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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51
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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52
clenching
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
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53
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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54
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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55
solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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56
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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57
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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58
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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59
quailed
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| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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philosophically
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| adv.哲学上；富有哲理性地；贤明地；冷静地 | |
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61
coaxingly
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| adv. 以巧言诱哄，以甘言哄骗 | |
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62
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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63
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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64
caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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66
feline
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| adj.猫科的 | |
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