'Where spreads the beautiful water to gay or cloudy skies,
And the purple peaks of Killarney from ancient woods arise.'
William Allingham
Mrs. Mullarkey cannot spoil this paradise for us. When I wake in the morning, the fuchsia-tree outside my window is such a glorious mass of colour that it distracts my eyes from the unwashed glass. The air is still; the mountains in the far distance are clear purple; everything is fresh washed and purified for the new day. Francesca and I leave the house sleeping, and make our way to the bogs2. We love to sit under a blossoming sloe-bush and see the silver pools glistening3 here and there in the turf cuttings, and watch the transparent4 vapour rising from the red-brown of the purple-shadowed bog1 fields. Dinnis Rooney, half awake, leisurely5, silent, is moving among the stacks with his creel. How the missel thrushes sing in the woods, and the plaintive6 note of the curlew gives the last touch of mysterious tenderness to the scene. There is a moist, rich fragrance7 of meadowsweet and bog myrtle in the air; and how fresh and wild and verdant8 it is!
'For there's plenty to mind, sure, if on'y ye look to the grass at your feet,
For 'tis thick wid the tussocks of heather, an' blossoms and herbs that smell sweet
If ye tread thim; an' maybe the white o' the bog-cotton waves in the win',
Like the wool ye might shear9 off a night-moth, an' set an ould fairy to spin;
Or wee frauns, each wan10 stuck 'twixt two leaves on a grand little stem of its own,
Lettin' on 'twas a plum on a tree.' [*]
* Jane Barlow.
As for Lough Lein itself, who could speak its loveliness, lying like a crystal mirror beneath the black Reeks11 of the McGillicuddy, where, in the mountain fastnesses, lie spell-bound the sleeping warriors12 who, with their bridles13 and broadswords in hand, await but the word to give Erin her own! When we glide14 along the surface of the lakes, on some bright day after a heavy rain; when we look down through the clear water on tiny submerged islets, with their grasses and drowned daisies glancing up at us from the blue; when we moor15 the boat and climb the hillsides, we are dazzled by the luxuriant beauty of it all. It hardly seems real--it is too green, too perfect, to be believed; and one thinks of some fairy drop-scene, painted by cunning-fingered elves and sprites, who might have a wee folk's way of mixing roses and rainbows, dew-drenched greens and sun-warmed yellows; showing the picture to you first all burnished16, glittering and radiant, then 'veiled in mist and diamonded with showers.' We climb, climb, up, up, into the heart of the leafy loveliness; peering down into dewy dingles, stopping now and again to watch one of the countless17 streams as it tinkles18 and gurgles down an emerald ravine to join the lakes. The way is strewn with lichens19 and mosses20; rich green hollies21 and arbutus surround us on every side; the ivy22 hangs in sweet disorder23 from the rocks; and when we reach the innermost recess24 of the glen we can find moist green jungles of ferns and bracken, a very bending, curling forest of fronds:--
'The fairy's tall palm-tree, the heath bird's fresh nest,
And the couch the red deer deems the sweetest and best.'
Carrantual rears its crested26 head high above the other mountains, and on its summit Shon the Outlaw27, footsore, weary, slept; sighing, "For once, thank God, I am above all my enemies."
You must go to sweet Innisfallen, too, and you must not be prosaic28 or incredulous at the boatman's stories, or turn the 'bodthered ear to them.' These are no ordinary hillsides: not only do the wee folk troop through the frond25 forests nightly, but great heroic figures of romance have stalked majestically29 along these mountain summits. Every waterfall foaming30 and dashing from its rocky bed in the glen has a legend in the toss and swirl31 of the water.
Can't you see the O'Sullivan, famous for fleetness of foot and prowess in the chase, starting forth32 in the cool o' the morn to hunt the red deer? His dogs sniff33 the heather; a splendid stag bounds across the path; swift as lightning the dogs follow the scent34 across moors35 and glens. Throughout the long day the chieftain chases the stag, until at nightfall, weary and thirsty, he loses the scent, and blows a blast on his horn to call the dogs homeward.
And then he hears a voice: "O'Sullivan, turn back!"
He looks over his shoulder to behold36 the great Finn McCool, central figure in centuries of romance.
"Why do you dare chase my stag?" he asks.
"Because it is the finest man ever saw," answers the chieftain composedly.
"You are a valiant37 man," says the hero, pleased with the reply; "and as you thirst from the long chase, I will give you to drink." So he crunches38 his giant heel into the rock, and forth burst the waters, seething39 and roaring as they do to this day; "and may the divil fly away wid me if I've spoke40 an unthrue word, ma'am!"
Come to Lough Lein as did we, too early for the crowd of sightseers; but when the 'long light shakes across the lakes,' the blackest arts of the tourist (and they are as black as they are many) cannot break the spell. Sitting on one of these hillsides, we heard a bugle41-call taken up and repeated in delicate, ethereal echoes,--sweet enough, indeed, to be worthy42 of the fairy buglers who are supposed to pass the sound along their lines from crag to crag, until it faints and dies in silence. And then came the 'Lament43 for Owen Roe44 O'Neil.' We were thrilled to the very heart with the sorrowful strains; and when we issued from our leafy covert45, and rounded the point of rocks from which the sound came, we found a fat man in uniform playing the bugle. 'Blank's Tours' was embroidered46 on his cap, and I have no doubt that he is a good husband and father, even a good citizen, but he is a blight47 upon the landscape, and fancy cannot breathe in his presence. The typical tourist should be encouraged within bounds, both because he is of some benefit to Ireland, and because Ireland is of inestimable benefit to him; but he should not be allowed to jeer48 and laugh at the legends (the gentle smile of sophisticated unbelief, with its twinkle of amusement, is unknown to and for ever beyond him); and above all, he should never be allowed to carry or to play on a concertina, for this is the unpardonable sin.
We had an adventure yesterday. We were to dine at eight o'clock at Balkilly Castle, where Dr. La Touche is staying the week-end with Lord and Lady Killbally. We had been spending an hour or two after tea in writing an Irish letter, and were a bit late in dressing49. These letters, written in the vernacular50, are a favourite diversion of ours when visiting in foreign lands; and they are very easily done when once you have caught the idioms, for you can always supplement your slender store of words and expressions with choice selections from native authors.
What Francesca and I wore to the Castle dinner is, alas51! no longer of any consequence to the community at large. In the mysterious purposes of that third volume which we seem to be living in Ireland, Francesca's beauty and mine, her hats and frocks as well as mine, are all reduced to the background; but Salemina's toilet had cost us some thought. When she first issued from the discreet52 and decorous fastnesses of Salem society, she had never donned any dinner dress that was not as high at the throat and as long in the sleeves as the Puritan mothers ever wore to meeting. In England she lapsed53 sufficiently54 from the rigid55 Salem standard to adopt a timid compromise; in Scotland we coaxed56 her into still further modernities, until now she is completely enfranchised57. We achieved this at considerable trouble, but do not grudge58 the time spent in persuasion59 when we see her en grande toilette. In day dress she has always been inclined ever so little to a primness60 and severity that suggest old-maidishness. In her low gown of pale grey, with all her silver hair waved softly, she is unexpectedly lovely,--her face softened61, transformed, and magically 'brought out' by the whiteness of her shoulders and slender throat. Not an ornament62, not a jewel, will she wear; and she is right to keep the nunlike63 simplicity64 of style which suits her so well, and which holds its own even in the vicinity of Francesca's proud and glowing young beauty.
On this particular evening, Francesca, who wished her to look her best, had prudently65 hidden her eyeglasses, for which we are now trying to substitute a silver-handled lorgnette. Two years ago we deliberately66 smashed her spectacles, which she had adopted at five-and-twenty.
"But they are more convenient than eye-glasses," she urged obtusely67.
"That argument is beneath you, dear," we replied. "If your hair were not prematurely68 grey, we might permit the spectacles, hideous69 as they are, but a combination of the two is impossible; the world shall not convict you of failing sight when you are guilty only of petty astigmatism70!"
The grey satin had been chosen for this dinner, and Salemina was dressed, with the exception of the pretty pearl-embroidered waist that has to be laced at the last moment, and had slipped on a dressing jacket to come down from her room in the second story, to be advised in some trifling71 detail. She looked unusually well, I thought: her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed, as she rustled72 in, holding her satin skirts daintily away from the dusty carpets.
Now, from the morning of our arrival we have had trouble with the Mullarkey door-knobs, which come off continually, and lie on the floors at one side of the door or the other. Benella followed Salemina from her room, and, being in haste, closed the door with unwonted energy. She heard the well-known rattle73 and clang, but little suspected that, as one knob dropped outside in the hall, the other fell inside, carrying the rod of connection with it. It was not long before we heard a cry of despair from above, and we responded to it promptly74.
"It's fell in on the inside, knob and all, as I always knew it would some day; and now we can't get back into the room!" said Benella.
"Oh, nonsense! We can open it with something or other," I answered encouragingly, as I drew on my gloves; "only you must hasten, for the car is at the door."
The curling iron was too large, the shoe hook too short, a lead pencil too smooth, a crochet75 needle too slender: we tried them all, and the door resisted all our insinuations. "Must you necessarily get in before we go?" I asked Salemina thoughtlessly.
She gave me a glance that almost froze my blood, as she replied, "The waist of my dress is in the room."
Francesca and I spent a moment in irrepressible mirth, and then summoned Mrs. Mullarkey. Whether the Irish kings could be relied upon in an emergency I do not know, but their descendants cannot. Mrs. Mullarkey had gone to the convent to see the Mother Superior about something; Mr. Mullarkey was at the Dooclone market; Peter was not to be found; but Oonah and Molly came, and also the old lady from Mullinavat, with a package of raffle76 tickets in her hand.
We left this small army under Benella's charge, and went down to my room for a hasty consultation77.
"Could you wear any evening bodice of Francesca's?" I asked.
"Of course not. Francesca's waist measure is three inches smaller than mine."
"Could you manage my black lace dress?"
"Penelope, you know it would only reach to my ankles! No, you must go without me, and go at once. We are too new acquaintances to keep Lady Killbally's dinner waiting. Why did I come to this place like a pauper78, with only one evening gown, when I should have known that if there is a castle anywhere within forty miles you always spend half your time in it!"
This slur79 was totally unjustified, but I pardoned it, because Salemina's temper is ordinarily perfect, and the circumstances were somewhat tragic80. "If you had brought a dozen costumes, they would all be in your room at this moment," I replied; "but we must think of something. It is impossible for you to remain behind; we were invited more on your account than our own, for you are Dr. La Touche's friend, and the dinner is especially in his honour. Molly, have you a ladder?"
"Sorra a wan, ma'am."
"Could we borrow one?"
"We could not, Mrs. Beresford, ma'am."
"Then see if you can break down the door; try hard, and if you succeed I will buy you a nice new one! Part of Miss Peabody's dress is inside the room, and we shall be late to the Castle dinner."
The entire corps81, with Mrs. Waterford of Mullinavat on top, cast itself on the door, which withstood the shock to perfection. Then in a moment we heard: "Weary's on it, it will not come down for us, ma'am. It's the iligant locks we do be havin' in the house; they're mortial shtrong, ma'am!"
"Strong, indeed!" exclaimed the incensed82 Benella, in a burst of New England wrath83. "There's nothing strong about the place but the impidence of the people in it! If you had told Peter to get a carpenter or a locksmith, as I've been asking you these two weeks, it would have been all right; but you never do anything till a month after it's too late. I've no patience with such a set of doshies, dawdling84 around and leaving everything to go to rack and ruin!"
"Sure it was yourself that ruinated the thing," responded Molly, with spirit, for the unaccustomed word 'doshy' had kindled85 her quick Irish temper. "It's aisy handlin' the knob is used to, and faith it would 'a' stuck there for you a twelvemonth!"
"They will be quarrelling soon," said Salemina nervously86. "Do not wait another instant; you are late enough now, and I insist on your going. Make any excuse you see fit: say I am ill, say I am dead, if you like, but don't tell the real excuse--it is too shiftless and wretched and embarrassing. Don't cry, Benella. Molly, Oonah, go downstairs to your work. Mrs. Waterford, I think perhaps you have forgotten that we have already purchased raffle tickets, and we'll not take any more for fear that we may draw the necklace. Good-bye, dears; tell Lady Killbally I shall see her to-morrow."
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bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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bogs
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| n.沼泽，泥塘( bog的名词复数 )；厕所v.（使）陷入泥沼， （使）陷入困境( bog的第三人称单数 )；妨碍，阻碍 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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verdant
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| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
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shear
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| n.修剪，剪下的东西，羊的一岁；vt.剪掉，割，剥夺；vi.修剪，切割，剥夺，穿越 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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reeks
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| n.恶臭( reek的名词复数 )v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的第三人称单数 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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bridles
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| 约束( bridle的名词复数 )； 限动器； 马笼头； 系带 | |
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glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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burnished
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| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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tinkles
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| 丁当声，铃铃声( tinkle的名词复数 )； 一次电话 | |
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lichens
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| n.地衣( lichen的名词复数 ) | |
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mosses
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| n. 藓类, 苔藓植物 名词moss的复数形式 | |
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hollies
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| n.冬青（常绿灌木，叶尖而硬，有光泽，冬季结红色浆果）( holly的名词复数 )；（用作圣诞节饰物的）冬青树枝 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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frond
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| n.棕榈类植物的叶子 | |
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crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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crunches
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| n.（突发的）不足( crunch的名词复数 )；需要做出重要决策的困难时刻；紧要关头；嘎吱的响声v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的第三人称单数 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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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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bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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lament
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| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
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roe
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| n.鱼卵；獐鹿 | |
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covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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blight
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| n.枯萎病；造成破坏的因素；vt.破坏，摧残 | |
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jeer
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| vi.嘲弄，揶揄；vt.奚落；n.嘲笑，讥评 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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vernacular
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| adj.地方的，用地方语写成的；n.白话；行话；本国语；动植物的俗名 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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enfranchised
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| v.给予选举权( enfranchise的过去式和过去分词 )；（从奴隶制中）解放 | |
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grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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primness
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| n.循规蹈矩，整洁 | |
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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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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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nunlike
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| adj.太阳似的，非常明亮的，辉煌的 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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prudently
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| adv. 谨慎地，慎重地 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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obtusely
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| adv.钝地，圆头地 | |
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prematurely
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| adv.过早地，贸然地 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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astigmatism
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| n.散光，乱视眼 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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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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73
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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crochet
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| n.钩针织物；v.用钩针编制 | |
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raffle
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| n.废物，垃圾，抽奖售卖；v.以抽彩出售 | |
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consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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pauper
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| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
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slur
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| v.含糊地说；诋毁；连唱；n.诋毁；含糊的发音 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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84
dawdling
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| adj.闲逛的，懒散的v.混（时间）( dawdle的现在分词 ) | |
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85
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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