Ravello is a delightful4 place with a delightful little hotel in which we met some charming people. There were the two Miss Robinsons, who had been there for six weeks with Eustace, their nephew, then a boy of about fourteen. Mr. Sandbach had also been there some time. He had held a curacy in the north of England, which he had been compelled to resign on account of ill-health, and while he was recruiting at Ravello he had taken in hand Eustace's education—which was then sadly deficient—and was endeavouring to fit him for one of our great public schools. Then there was Mr. Leyland, a would-be artist, and, finally, there was the nice landlady5, Signora Scafetti, and the nice English-speaking waiter, Emmanuele—though at the time of which I am speaking Emmanuele was away, visiting a sick father.
To this little circle, I, my wife, and my two daughters made, I venture to think, a not unwelcome addition. But though I liked most of the company well enough, there were two of them to whom I did not take at all. They were the artist, Leyland, and the Miss Robinsons' nephew, Eustace.
Leyland was simply conceited6 and odious7, and, as those qualities will be amply illustrated8 in my narrative9, I need not enlarge upon them here. But Eustace was something besides: he was indescribably repellent.
I am fond of boys as a rule, and was quite disposed to be friendly. I and my daughters offered to take him out—'No, walking was such a fag.' Then I asked him to come and bathe—' No, he could not swim.'
"Every English boy should be able to swim," I said, "I will teach you myself."
"There, Eustace dear," said Miss Robinson; "here is a chance for you."
But he said he was afraid of the water!—a boy afraid!—and of course I said no more.
I would not have minded so much if he had been a really studious boy, but he neither played hard nor worked hard. His favourite occupations were lounging on the terrace in an easy chair and loafing along the high road, with his feet shuffling10 up the dust and his shoulders stooping forward. Naturally enough, his features were pale, his chest contracted, and his muscles undeveloped. His aunts thought him delicate; what he really needed was discipline.
That memorable11 day we all arranged to go for a picnic up in the chestnut woods—all, that is, except Janet, who stopped behind to finish her water-colour of the Cathedral—not a very successful attempt, I am afraid.
I wander off into these irrelevant12 details, because in my mind I cannot separate them from an account of the day; and it is the same with the conversation during the picnic: all is imprinted13 on my brain together. After a couple of hours' ascent14, we left the donkeys that had carried the Miss Robinsons and my wife, and all proceeded on foot to the head of the valley—Vallone Fontana Caroso is its proper name, I find.
I have visited a good deal of fine scenery before and since, but have found little that has pleased me more. The valley ended in a vast hollow, shaped like a cup, into which radiated ravines from the precipitous hills around. Both the valley and the ravines and the ribs15 of hill that divided the ravines were covered with leafy chestnut, so that the general appearance was that of a many fingered green hand, palm upwards16, which was clutching, convulsively to keep us in its grasp. Far down the valley we could see Ravello and the sea, but that was the only sign of another world.
"Yes," said Mr. Sandbach. "Many a famous European gallery would be proud to have a landscape a tithe18 as beautiful as this upon its walls."
"On the contrary," said Leyland, "it would make a very poor picture. Indeed, it is not paintable at all."
"Look, in the first place," he replied, "how intolerably straight against the sky is the line of the hill. It would need breaking up and diversifying20. And where we are standing21 the whole thing is out of perspective. Besides, all the colouring is monotonous22 and crude."
"I do not know anything about pictures," I put in, "and I do not pretend to know: but I know what is beautiful when I see it, and I am thoroughly23 content with this."
"Indeed, who could help being contented24!" said the elder Miss Robinson and Mr. Sandbach said the same.
Poor Rose had brought her camera with her, so I thought this positively26 rude. I did not wish any unpleasantness; so I merely turned away and assisted my wife and Miss Mary Robinson to put out the lunch—not a very nice lunch.
"Eustace, dear," said his aunt, "come and help us here."
He was in a particularly bad temper that morning. He had, as usual, not wanted to come, and his aunts had nearly allowed him to stop at the hotel to vex28 Janet. But I, with their permission, spoke29 to him rather sharply on the subject of exercise; and the result was that he had come, but was even more taciturn and moody30 than usual.
Obedience31 was not his strong point. He invariably questioned every command, and only executed it grumbling32. I should always insist on prompt and cheerful obedience, if I had a son.
"I'm—coming—Aunt—Mary," he at last replied, and dawdled33 to cut a piece of wood to make a whistle, taking care not to arrive till we had finished.
"Well, well, sir!" said I, "you stroll in at the end and profit by our labours." He sighed, for he could not endure being chaffed. Miss Mary, very unwisely, insisted on giving him the wing of the chicken, in spite of all my attempts to prevent her. I remember that I had a moment's vexation when I thought that, instead of enjoying the sun, and the air, and the woods, we were all engaged in wrangling34 over the diet of a spoilt boy.
But, after lunch, he was a little less in evidence. He withdrew to a tree trunk, and began to loosen the bark from his whistle. I was thankful to see him employed, for once in a way. We reclined, and took a dolce far niente.
Those sweet chestnuts35 of the South are puny36 striplings compared with our robust37 Northerners. But they clothed the contours of the hills and valleys in a most pleasing way, their veil being only broken by two clearings, in one of which we were sitting.
And because these few trees were cut down, Leyland burst into a petty indictment38 of the proprietor39.
"All the poetry is going from Nature," he cried, "her lakes and marshes40 are drained, her seas banked up, her forests cut down. Everywhere we see the vulgarity of desolation spreading."
I have had some experience of estates, and answered that cutting was very necessary for the health of the larger trees. Besides, it was unreasonable41 to expect the proprietor to derive42 no income from his lands.
"If you take the commercial side of landscape, you may feel pleasure in the owner's activity. But to me the mere27 thought that a tree is convertible43 into cash is disgusting."
"I see no reason," I observed politely, "to despise the gifts of Nature, because they are of value."
It did not stop him. "It is no matter," he went on, "we are all hopelessly steeped in vulgarity. I do not except myself. It is through us, and to our shame, that the Nereids have left the waters and the Oreads the mountains, that the woods no longer give shelter to Pan."
"Pan!" cried Mr. Sandbach, his mellow44 voice filling the valley as if it had been a great green church, "Pan is dead. That is why the woods do not shelter him." And he began to tell the striking story of the mariners45 who were sailing near the coast at the time of the birth of Christ, and three times heard a loud voice saying: "The great God Pan is dead."
"Yes. The great God Pan is dead," said Leyland. And he abandoned himself to that mock misery46 in which artistic people are so fond of indulging. His cigar went out, and he had to ask me for a match.
"How very interesting," said Rose. "I do wish I knew some ancient history."
"It is not worth your notice," said Mr. Sandbach. "Eh, Eustace?"
Eustace was finishing his whistle. He looked up, with the irritable47 frown in which his aunts allowed him to indulge, and made no reply.
The conversation turned to various topics and then died out. It was a cloudless afternoon in May, and the pale green of the young chestnut leaves made a pretty contrast with the dark blue of the sky. We were all sitting at the edge of the small clearing for the sake of the view, and the shade of the chestnut saplings behind us was manifestly insufficient48. All sounds died away—at least that is my account: Miss Robinson says that the clamour of the birds was the first sign of uneasiness that she discerned. All sounds died away, except that, far in the distance, I could hear two boughs49 of a great chestnut grinding together as the tree swayed. The grinds grew shorter and shorter, and finally that sound stopped also. As I looked over the green fingers of the valley, everything was absolutely motionless and still; and that feeling of suspense50 which one so often experiences when Nature is in repose51, began to steal over me.
Suddenly, we were all electrified52 by the excruciating noise of Eustace's whistle. I never heard any instrument give forth53 so ear-splitting and discordant54 a sound.
"Eustace, dear," said Miss Mary Robinson, "you might have thought of your poor Aunt Julia's head."
Leyland who had apparently55 been asleep, sat up.
"It is astonishing how blind a boy is to anything that is elevating or beautiful," he observed. "I should not have thought he could have found the wherewithal out here to spoil our pleasure like this."
Then the terrible silence fell upon us again. I was now standing up and watching a catspaw of wind that was running down one of the ridges57 opposite, turning the light green to dark as it travelled. A fanciful feeling of foreboding came over me; so I turned away, to find to my amazement58, that all the others were also on their feet, watching it too.
It is not possible to describe coherently what happened next: but I, for one, am not ashamed to confess that, though the fair blue sky was above me, and the green spring woods beneath me, and the kindest of friends around me, yet I became terribly frightened, more frightened than I ever wish to become again, frightened in a way I never have known either before or after. And in the eyes of the others, too, I saw blank, expressionless fear, while their mouths strove in vain to speak and their hands to gesticulate. Yet, all around us were prosperity, beauty, and peace, and all was motionless, save the catspaw of wind, now travelling up the ridge56 on which we stood.
Who moved first has never been settled. It is enough to say that in one second we were tearing away along the hillside. Leyland was in front, then Mr. Sandbach, then my wife. But I only saw for a brief moment; for I ran across the little clearing and through the woods and over the undergrowth and the rocks and down the dry torrent59 beds into the valley below. The sky might have been black as I ran, and the trees short grass, and the hillside a level road; for I saw nothing and heard nothing and felt nothing, since all the channels of sense and reason were blocked. It was not the spiritual fear that one has known at other times, but brutal60 overmastering physical fear, stopping up the ears, and dropping clouds before the eyes, and filling the mouth with foul61 tastes. And it was no ordinary humiliation62 that survived; for I had been afraid, not as a man, but as a beast.
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1
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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pretensions
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| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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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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shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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irrelevant
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| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
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imprinted
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| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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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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tithe
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| n.十分之一税；v.课什一税，缴什一税 | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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diversifying
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| v.使多样化，多样化( diversify的现在分词 )；进入新的商业领域 | |
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21
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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vex
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| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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dawdled
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| v.混（时间）( dawdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wrangling
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| v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的现在分词 ) | |
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chestnuts
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| n.栗子( chestnut的名词复数 )；栗色；栗树；栗色马 | |
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puny
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| adj.微不足道的，弱小的 | |
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robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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indictment
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| n.起诉；诉状 | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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40
marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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42
derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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convertible
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| adj.可改变的，可交换，同意义的；n.有活动摺篷的汽车 | |
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44
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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45
mariners
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| 海员，水手（mariner的复数形式） | |
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46
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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47
irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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48
insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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49
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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50
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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51
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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52
electrified
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| v.使电气化( electrify的过去式和过去分词 )；使兴奋 | |
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53
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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54
discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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55
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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56
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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57
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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58
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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59
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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61
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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