“It is the gate of a city,”—she muttered—“and at this hour the watchmen are asleep. I will go on—on still farther,—there must be water close by, else there would be no city built.”
She had recovered a certain amount of physical strength in the restorative influence of the fresh air, and walked with a less feeble tread,—she became dimly conscious too of there being a number of people about, and she drew her amber-coloured draperies more closely over her head. It was a beautiful night;—the moon was full and brilliant, and hundreds of pleasure-seekers were moving hither and thither,—there was the usual rattle16 and roar of the vehicular traffic of the town which, it must be remembered, Zaroba did not hear. Neither did she clearly see anything that was taking place around her,—for her sight was blurred17, and the dull confusion in her brain continued. She walked as in a dream,—she felt herself to be in a dream;—the images of El-Râmi, of the lost Lilith, of the beautiful young Féraz, had faded away from her recollection,—and she was living in the early memories of days long past,—days of youth and hope and love and promise. No one molested18 her; people in London are so accustomed to the sight of foreigners and foreign costumes, that so long as they are seen walking on their apparent way peaceably, they may do so in any garb that pleases them, provided it be decent, without attracting much attention save from a few small and irreverent street-arabs. And even the personal and pointed19 observations of these misguided youngsters fail to disturb the dignity of a Parsee in his fez, or to ruffle20 the celestial21 composure of a Chinaman in his slippers22. Zaroba, moreover, did not present such a markedly distinctive23 appearance,—in her yellow wrapper and silver bangles, she only looked like one of the ayahs brought over from the East with the children of Anglo-Indian mothers,—and she passed on uninterruptedly, happily deaf to the noises around her, and almost blind to the ever-shifting human pageantry of the busy thoroughfares.
“The gates of the city,” she went on murmuring—“they are shut, and the watchmen are asleep. There must be water near,—a river or a place of fountains, where the caravans24 pause to rest.”
Now and then the glare of the lights in the streets troubled her,—and then she would come to a halt and pass her hands across her eyes,—but this hesitation25 only lasted a minute,—and again she continued on her aimless way. The road widened out before her,—the buildings grew taller, statelier, and more imposing,—and suddenly she caught sight of what she had longed for,—the glimmering26 of water silvering itself in the light of the moon.
She had reached the Embankment;—and a sigh of satisfaction escaped her, as she felt the damp chillness of the wind from the river blowing against her burning forehead. The fresh coolness and silence soothed27 her,—there were few people about,—and she slackened her pace unconsciously, and smiled as she lifted her dark face to the clear and quiet sky. She was faint and weary,—light-headed from want of food,—but she was not conscious of this any more than a fever-patient is conscious of his own delirium28. She walked quite steadily29 now,—in no haste, but with the grave, majestic30 step that belongs peculiarly to women of her type and race,—her features were perfectly31 composed, and her eyes very bright. And now she looked always at the river, and saw nothing else for a time but its rippling32 surface lit up by the moon.
“They have cut down the reeds”—she said, softly under her breath,—“and the tall palms are gone,—but the river is always the same,—they cannot change that. Nothing can dethrone the Nile-god, or disturb his sleep among the lilies, down towards the path of the sunset. Here I shall meet my belovëd again,—here by the banks of the Nile;—yet, it is strange and cruel that they should have cut down the reeds. I remember how softly they rustled33 with the movements of the little snakes that lived in the golden sand,—yes!—and the palm-trees were high—so high that their feathery crowns seemed to touch the stars. It was Egypt then,—and is it not Egypt now? Yes—surely—surely it is Egypt!—but it is changed—changed,—all is changed except love! Love is the same for ever, and the heart beats true to the one sweet tune34. Yes, we shall meet,—my belovëd and I,—and we shall tell one another how long the time has seemed since we parted yesterday. Only yesterday!—and it seems a century,—a long long century of pain and fear, but the hours have passed, and the waiting is over——”
She broke off abruptly35, and stood suddenly still;—the Obelisk36 faced her. Cut sharp and dark against the brilliant sky the huge “Cleopatra’s Needle” towered solemnly aloft, its apex37 seeming to point directly at a cluster of stars above it. Something there was in its weird38 and frowning aspect, that appealed strangely to Zaroba’s wandering intelligence,—she gazed at it with eager, dilated39 eyes.
“To the memory of heroes!” she said whisperingly, with a slight proud gesture of her hand,—“To the glory of the Dead! Salutation to the great gods and crowned Kings! Salutation and witness to the world of what Hath Been! The river shall find a tongue—the shifting sands shall uphold the record, so that none shall forget the things that Were! For the things that Are, being weak, shall perish,—but the things that Were, being strong, shall endure for ever! Here, as God liveth, is the meeting-place; the palms are gone, but the Nile flows on, and the moon is the sunlight of lovers. Here will I wait for my belovëd,—he knows the appointed hour, ... he will not be long!”
She sat down, as close to the Obelisk as she could get, her face turned towards the river and the moonlight; and the clocks of the great city around her slowly tolled40 eleven. Her head dropped forward on her chest,—though after a few minutes she lifted her face with an anxious look—and,—“Did the child call me?” she said, and listened. Then she relapsed into her former sunken posture41, ... once a strong shuddering42 shook her limbs as of intense cold in the warm June night, ... and then she was quite still ...
The hours passed on,—midnight came and went,—but she never stirred. She seemed to belong to the Obelisk and its attendant sphinxes,—so rigid43 was her figure, so weird in its outline, so solemn in its absolute immobility. ... And in that same attitude she was found later on towards morning, stone dead. There was no clue to her identity,—nothing about her that gave any hint as to her possible home or friends; her statuesque old face, grander than ever in the serene44 pallor of death, somewhat awed45 the two burly policemen who lifted her stark46 body and turned her features to the uncertain light of early dawn, but it told them no history save that of age and sorrow. So, in the sad chronicles entitled “Found Dead,” she was described as “a woman unknown, of foreign appearance and costume, seemingly of Eastern origin,”—and, after a day or two, being unrecognised and unclaimed, she was buried in the usual way common to all who perish without name and kindred in the dreary47 wilderness48 of a great city. Féraz, missing her on the morning after her disappearance49, searched for her everywhere as well as he knew how,—but, as he seldom read the newspapers, and probably would not have recognised the brief account of her there if he had,—and as, moreover, he knew nothing about certain dreary buildings in London called mortuaries, where the bodies of the drowned, and murdered, and unidentified, lie for a little while awaiting recognition, he remained in complete and bewildered ignorance of her fate. He could not imagine what had become of her, and he almost began to believe that she must have taken ship back to her native land,—and that perhaps he might hear of her again some day. And truly, she had gone back to her native land,—in fancy;—and truly, it was also possible she might be met with again some day,—in another world than this. But in the meantime she had died,—as best befitted a servant of the old gods,—alone, and in uncomplaining silence.
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1
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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labyrinth
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| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
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throngs
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| n.人群( throng的名词复数 )v.成群，挤满( throng的第三人称单数 ) | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
suffocated
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| （使某人）窒息而死( suffocate的过去式和过去分词 )； （将某人）闷死； 让人感觉闷热； 憋气 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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8
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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12
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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13
discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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17
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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18
molested
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| v.骚扰( molest的过去式和过去分词 )；干扰；调戏；猥亵 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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ruffle
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| v.弄皱，弄乱；激怒，扰乱；n.褶裥饰边 | |
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celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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24
caravans
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| （可供居住的）拖车（通常由机动车拖行）( caravan的名词复数 )； 篷车； （穿过沙漠地带的）旅行队（如商队） | |
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25
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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26
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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27
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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28
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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29
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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30
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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32
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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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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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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obelisk
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| n.方尖塔 | |
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apex
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| n.顶点，最高点 | |
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38
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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39
dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
tolled
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| 鸣钟（toll的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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41
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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42
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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43
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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44
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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45
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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47
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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48
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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49
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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