Though a schoolboy he was no ordinary schoolboy; he was destined5 to grow up an original. At a few years' later date he took great pains to pare and polish himself down to the pattern of the rest of the world, but he never succeeded; an unique stamp marked him always. He now sat idle at his desk in the grammar school, casting about in his mind for the means of adding another chapter to his commenced romance. He did not yet know how many commenced life-romances are doomed6 never to get beyond the first, or at most the second chapter. His Saturday half-holiday he spent in the wood with his book of fairy legends, and that other unwritten book of his imagination.
Martin harboured an irreligious reluctance7 to see the approach of Sunday. His father and mother, while disclaiming8 community with the Establishment, failed not duly, once on the sacred day, to fill their large pew in Briarfield Church with the whole of their blooming family. Theoretically, Mr. Yorke placed all sects9 and churches on a level. Mrs. Yorke awarded the palm to Moravians and Quakers, on account of that crown of humility10 by these worthies11 worn. Neither of them were ever known, however, to set foot in a conventicle.
Martin, I say, disliked Sunday, because the morning service was long, and the sermon usually little to his taste.514 This Saturday afternoon, however, his woodland musings disclosed to him a new-found charm in the coming day.
It proved a day of deep snow—so deep that Mrs. Yorke during breakfast announced her conviction that the children, both boys and girls, would be better at home; and her decision that, instead of going to church, they should sit silent for two hours in the back parlour, while Rose and Martin alternately read a succession of sermons—John Wesley's "Sermons." John Wesley, being a reformer and an agitator12, had a place both in her own and her husband's favour.
"Rose will do as she pleases," said Martin, not looking up from the book which, according to his custom then and in after-life, he was studying over his bread and milk.
"Rose will do as she is told, and Martin too," observed the mother.
"I am going to church."
So her son replied, with the ineffable13 quietude of a true Yorke, who knows his will and means to have it, and who, if pushed to the wall, will let himself be crushed to death, provided no way of escape can be found, but will never capitulate.
"It is not fit weather," said the father.
"Martin hates to go to church, but he hates still more to obey," said Mrs. Yorke.
"I suppose I am influenced by pure perverseness15?"
"Yes, you are."
"Mother, I am not."
"By what, then, are you influenced?"
"By a complication of motives16, the intricacies of which I should as soon think of explaining to you as I should of turning myself inside out to exhibit the internal machinery17 of my frame."
"Hear Martin! hear him!" cried Mr. Yorke. "I must see and have this lad of mine brought up to the bar. Nature meant him to live by his tongue. Hesther, your third son must certainly be a lawyer; he has the stock-in-trade—brass, self-conceit, and words—words—words."
"Some bread, Rose, if you please," requested Martin, with intense gravity, serenity18, phlegm. The boy had naturally a low, plaintive19 voice, which in his "dour20 moods" rose scarcely above a lady's whisper. The more inflexibly515 stubborn the humour, the softer, the sadder the tone. He rang the bell, and gently asked for his walking-shoes.
"But, Martin," urged his sire, "there is drift all the way; a man could hardly wade21 through it. However, lad," he continued, seeing that the boy rose as the church bell began to toll22, "this is a case wherein I would by no means balk23 the obdurate24 chap of his will. Go to church by all means. There is a pitiless wind, and a sharp, frozen sleet25, besides the depth under foot. Go out into it, since thou prefers it to a warm fireside."
Martin quietly assumed his cloak, comforter, and cap, and deliberately26 went out.
"My father has more sense than my mother," he pronounced. "How women miss it! They drive the nail into the flesh, thinking they are hammering away at insensate stone."
He reached church early.
"Now, if the weather frightens her (and it is a real December tempest), or if that Mrs. Pryor objects to her going out, and I should miss her after all, it will vex27 me; but, tempest or tornado28, hail or ice, she ought to come, and if she has a mind worthy29 of her eyes and features she will come. She will be here for the chance of seeing me, as I am here for the chance of seeing her. She will want to get a word respecting her confounded sweetheart, as I want to get another flavour of what I think the essence of life—a taste of existence, with the spirit preserved in it, and not evaporated. Adventure is to stagnation30 what champagne31 is to flat porter."
He looked round. The church was cold, silent, empty, but for one old woman. As the chimes subsided32 and the single bell tolled33 slowly, another and another elderly parishioner came dropping in, and took a humble34 station in the free sittings. It is always the frailest35, the oldest, and the poorest that brave the worst weather, to prove and maintain their constancy to dear old mother church. This wild morning not one affluent36 family attended, not one carriage party appeared—all the lined and cushioned pews were empty; only on the bare oaken seats sat ranged the gray-haired elders and feeble paupers37.
"I'll scorn her if she doesn't come," muttered Martin, shortly and savagely38, to himself. The rector's shovel-hat had passed the porch. Mr. Helstone and his clerk were in the vestry.
516The bells ceased—the reading-desk was filled—the doors were closed—the service commenced. Void stood the rectory pew—she was not there. Martin scorned her.
"Worthless thing! vapid39 thing! commonplace humbug40! Like all other girls—weakly, selfish, shallow!"
"She is not like our picture. Her eyes are not large and expressive42; her nose is not straight, delicate, Hellenic; her mouth has not that charm I thought it had, which I imagined could beguile43 me of sullenness44 in my worst moods. What is she? A thread-paper, a doll, a toy, a girl, in short."
So absorbed was the young cynic he forgot to rise from his knees at the proper place, and was still in an exemplary attitude of devotion when, the litany over, the first hymn45 was given out. To be so caught did not contribute to soothe46 him. He started up red (for he was as sensitive to ridicule47 as any girl). To make the matter worse, the church door had reopened, and the aisles48 were filling: patter, patter, patter, a hundred little feet trotted49 in. It was the Sunday scholars. According to Briarfield winter custom, these children had till now been kept where there was a warm stove, and only led into church just before the communion and sermon.
The little ones were settled first, and at last, when the boys and the younger girls were all arranged—when the organ was swelling50 high, and the choir51 and congregation were rising to uplift a spiritual song—a tall class of young women came quietly in, closing the procession. Their teacher, having seen them seated, passed into the rectory pew. The French-gray cloak and small beaver52 bonnet53 were known to Martin; it was the very costume his eyes had ached to catch. Miss Helstone had not suffered the storm to prove an impediment. After all, she was come to church. Martin probably whispered his satisfaction to his hymn book; at any rate, he therewith hid his face two minutes.
Satisfied or not, he had time to get very angry with her again before the sermon was over. She had never once looked his way; at least he had not been so lucky as to encounter a glance.
"If," he said—"if she takes no notice of me, if she shows I am not in her thoughts, I shall have a worse, a meaner opinion of her than ever. Most despicable would it be to come for the sake of those sheep-faced Sunday517 scholars, and not for my sake or that long skeleton Moore's."
The sermon found an end; the benediction54 was pronounced; the congregation dispersed55. She had not been near him.
Now, indeed, as Martin set his face homeward, he felt that the sleet was sharp and the east wind cold.
His nearest way lay through some fields. It was a dangerous, because an untrodden way. He did not care; he would take it. Near the second stile rose a clump56 of trees. Was that an umbrella waiting there? Yes, an umbrella, held with evident difficulty against the blast; behind it fluttered a French-gray cloak. Martin grinned as he toiled57 up the steep, encumbered58 field, difficult to the foot as a slope in the upper realms of Etna. There was an inimitable look in his face when, having gained the stile, he seated himself coolly thereupon, and thus opened a conference which, for his own part, he was willing to prolong indefinitely.
"I think you had better strike a bargain. Exchange me for Mrs. Pryor."
"I was not sure whether you would come this way, Martin, but I thought I would run the chance. There is no such thing as getting a quiet word spoken in the church or churchyard."
"Will you agree?—make over Mrs. Pryor to my mother, and put me in her skirts?"
"As if I could understand you! What puts Mrs. Pryor into your head?"
"You call her 'mamma,' don't you?"
"She is my mamma."
"Not possible—or so inefficient59, so careless a mamma; I should make a five times better one. You may laugh. I have no objection to see you laugh. Your teeth—I hate ugly teeth; but yours are as pretty as a pearl necklace, and a necklace of which the pearls are very fair, even, and well matched too."
"Martin, what now? I thought the Yorkes never paid compliments?"
"They have not done till this generation; but I feel as if it were my vocation60 to turn out a new variety of the Yorke species. I am rather tired of my own ancestors. We have traditions going back for four ages—tales of Hiram, which was the son of Hiram, which was the son of518 Samuel, which was the son of John, which was the son of Zerubbabel Yorke. All, from Zerubbabel down to the last Hiram, were such as you see my father. Before that there was a Godfrey. We have his picture; it hangs in Moore's bedroom; it is like me. Of his character we know nothing; but I am sure it was different to his descendants. He has long, curling dark hair; he is carefully and cavalierly dressed. Having said that he is like me, I need not add that he is handsome."
"You are not handsome, Martin."
"No; but wait awhile—just let me take my time. I mean to begin from this day to cultivate, to polish, and we shall see."
"You are a very strange, a very unaccountable boy, Martin. But don't imagine you ever will be handsome; you cannot."
"I mean to try. But we were talking about Mrs. Pryor. She must be the most unnatural61 mamma in existence, coolly to let her daughter come out in this weather. Mine was in such a rage because I would go to church; she was fit to fling the kitchen brush after me."
"To see me?"
"Exactly; I thought of nothing else. I greatly feared the snow would hinder you from coming. You don't know how pleased I was to see you all by yourself in the pew."
"I came to fulfil my duty, and set the parish a good example. And so you were obstinate, were you? I should like to see you obstinate, I should. Wouldn't I have you in good discipline if I owned you? Let me take the umbrella."
"I can't stay two minutes; our dinner will be ready."
"And so will ours; and we have always a hot dinner on Sundays. Roast goose to-day, with apple-pie and rice-pudding. I always contrive63 to know the bill of fare. Well, I like these things uncommonly64; but I'll make the sacrifice, if you will."
"We have a cold dinner. My uncle will allow no unnecessary cooking on the Sabbath. But I must return; the house would be in commotion65 if I failed to appear."
"So will Briarmains, bless you! I think I hear my father sending out the overlooker and five of the dyers, to look in six directions for the body of his prodigal66 son in the snow; and my mother repenting67 her of her many misdeeds towards me, now I am gone."
"Martin, how is Mr. Moore?"
"That is what you came for, just to say that word."
"Come, tell me quickly."
"Hang him! he is no worse; but as ill-used as ever—mewed up, kept in solitary68 confinement69. They mean to make either an idiot or a maniac70 of him, and take out a commission of lunacy. Horsfall starves him; you saw how thin he was."
"You were very good the other day, Martin."
"What day? I am always good—a model."
"When will you be so good again?"
"But it must be done. It is quite a right thing, and a necessary thing."
"How you encroach! Remember, I managed the matter of my own free will before."
"And you will again."
"I won't. The business gave me far too much trouble. I like my ease."
"Mr. Moore wishes to see me, Martin, and I wish to see him."
"I dare say" (coolly).
"It is too bad of your mother to exclude his friends."
"Tell her so."
"His own relations."
"Come and blow her up."
"You know that would advance nothing. Well, I shall stick to my point. See him I will. If you won't help me, I'll manage without help."
"Do; there is nothing like self-reliance, self-dependence."
"I have no time to reason with you now; but I consider you provoking. Good-morning."
Away she went, the umbrella shut, for she could not carry it against the wind.
"She is not vapid; she is not shallow," said Martin. "I shall like to watch, and mark how she will work her way without help. If the storm were not of snow, but of fire—such as came refreshingly72 down on the cities of the plain—she would go through it to procure73 five minutes' speech of that Moore. Now, I consider I have had a pleasant morning. The disappointments got time on; the fears and fits of anger only made that short discourse74 pleasanter, when it came at last. She expected to coax75 me at once. She'll not manage that in one effort. She shall come again, again, and yet again. It would please me to put her in a passion—to make her cry. I want to discover how far she will go—what she will do and dare—to get her will. It seems strange and new to find one human being thinking so much about another as she thinks about Moore. But it is time to go home; my appetite tells me the hour. Won't I walk into that goose? and we'll try whether Matthew or I shall get the largest cut of the apple-pie to-day."
该作者的其它作品
《Jane Eyre简爱》
该作者的其它作品
《Jane Eyre简爱》
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
draught
|
|
| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
loathed
|
|
| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
relinquish
|
|
| v.放弃，撤回，让与，放手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
fretted
|
|
| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
doomed
|
|
| 命定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
reluctance
|
|
| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
disclaiming
|
|
| v.否认( disclaim的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
sects
|
|
| n.宗派，教派( sect的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
humility
|
|
| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
worthies
|
|
| 应得某事物( worthy的名词复数 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
agitator
|
|
| n.鼓动者；搅拌器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
ineffable
|
|
| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
sipped
|
|
| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
perverseness
|
|
| n. 乖张, 倔强, 顽固 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
motives
|
|
| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
machinery
|
|
| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
serenity
|
|
| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
plaintive
|
|
| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
dour
|
|
| adj.冷酷的，严厉的；（岩石）嶙峋的；顽强不屈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
wade
|
|
| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
toll
|
|
| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
balk
|
|
| n.大方木料；v.妨碍；不愿前进或从事某事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
obdurate
|
|
| adj.固执的，顽固的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
sleet
|
|
| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
vex
|
|
| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
tornado
|
|
| n.飓风，龙卷风 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
stagnation
|
|
| n. 停滞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
champagne
|
|
| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
subsided
|
|
| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
tolled
|
|
| 鸣钟（toll的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
frailest
|
|
| 脆弱的( frail的最高级 )； 易损的； 易碎的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
36
affluent
|
|
| adj.富裕的，富有的，丰富的，富饶的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
paupers
|
|
| n.穷人( pauper的名词复数 )；贫民；贫穷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
savagely
|
|
| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
vapid
|
|
| adj.无味的；无生气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
humbug
|
|
| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
liturgy
|
|
| n.礼拜仪式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
expressive
|
|
| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
beguile
|
|
| vt.欺骗，消遣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
sullenness
|
|
| n. 愠怒, 沉闷, 情绪消沉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
hymn
|
|
| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
soothe
|
|
| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
ridicule
|
|
| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
aisles
|
|
| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
trotted
|
|
| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
swelling
|
|
| n.肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
choir
|
|
| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
beaver
|
|
| n.海狸，河狸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
bonnet
|
|
| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
benediction
|
|
| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
dispersed
|
|
| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
clump
|
|
| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
toiled
|
|
| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
encumbered
|
|
| v.妨碍，阻碍，拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
inefficient
|
|
| adj.效率低的，无效的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
vocation
|
|
| n.职业，行业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
obstinate
|
|
| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
contrive
|
|
| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
uncommonly
|
|
| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
commotion
|
|
| n.骚动，动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
prodigal
|
|
| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
repenting
|
|
| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
confinement
|
|
| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
maniac
|
|
| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
wheedle
|
|
| v.劝诱，哄骗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
refreshingly
|
|
| adv.清爽地，有精神地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
procure
|
|
| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
coax
|
|
| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |