小说搜索     点击排行榜   最新入库
首页 » 经典英文小说 » The Well in the Desert » Chapter Eight. The Veil uplifted.
选择底色: 选择字号:【大】【中】【小】
Chapter Eight. The Veil uplifted.
关注小说网官方公众号(noveltingroom),原版名著免费领。

“Household names, that used to flutter
    Through your laughter unawares,—
God’s Divine Name ye can utter
    With less trembling, in your prayers.”
 
                Elizabeth B. Browning.
Philippa sat down again with the book in her hand. Her mood had changed suddenly at the sight of the text, which she instantly guessed to be the original of her well-remembered device.
 
“I need not go yet,” she said, “unless I weary you, Mother.”
 
“I am never wearied of the Master’s work,” answered the low voice.
 
Lady Sergeaux opened the door of the cell.
 
“Lena and Oliver,” she called, “you can return to the convent, and come hither for me again ere the dusk falleth. I shall abide1 a season with this holy Mother.”
 
“But your Ladyship will ere that be faint for hunger,” objected Lena.
 
“No,—I will take care of that,” replied the Grey Lady, ere Philippa could answer.
 
Lena louted, and departed with Oliver, and her mistress again closed the door of the cell. The Grey Lady set bread before her, and honey, with a cup of milk, bidding her eat.
 
“Thank you, Mother, but I am not hungry yet,” said Philippa.
 
“You ought to be. You had better eat,” was the quiet answer.
 
And quiet as the voice was, it had a tone of authority which Philippa involuntarily and unconsciously obeyed. And while she ate, her hostess in her turn became the questioner.
 
“Are you a knight2’s wife?”
 
“I am the wife of Sir Richard Sergeaux, a knight of Cornwall,” said Philippa. “My lord is away in Gascony, in the train of the Earl of Arundel, who accompanies the Duke of Lancaster, at present Governor of those parts. While he is absent, I hope to be able to make my salvation3 in retreat, and to quiet my conscience.”
 
The Grey Lady made no reply. Philippa almost expected her to ask if her conscience were quiet, or how much of her salvation she had made. Guy of Ashridge, she thought, would have preached a sermon on that text. But no answer came from the veiled figure, only her head drooped4 upon her hand as if she were tired.
 
“Now I am wearying you,” said Philippa reproachfully. “I ought to have gone when I first thought thereof.”
 
“No,” said the Grey Lady.
 
Her voice, if possible, was even softer than before, but Philippa could not avoid detecting in it a cadence5 of pain so intense that she began to wonder if she were ill, or what portion of her speech could possibly have caused it.
 
“Are you ill, Mother?” she asked compassionately6.
 
The eremitess lifted her head; and her voice was again calm.
 
“I thank you,—no. Let us not speak of ourselves, but of God.”
 
“Mother, I wish to ask you something,” said Philippa rather doubtfully, for she did not wish to pain her again, yet she deemed her coming question necessary.
 
“Ask what you will, Lady de Sergeaux.”
 
There was no sad cadence now in the gentle voice.
 
“I desire to know—for so only can you really help me—if you know yourself what it is to be unloved.”
 
Once more Philippa saw the grey veil tremble.
 
“I know it—well.” But the words were uttered scarcely above a whisper.
 
“I meant to ask you that at first, and we name upon another subject. But I am satisfied if you know it. And now tell me, how may any be content under such a trial? How may a weary, thirsting heart, come to drink of that water which he that drinketh shall thirst no more? Mother, all my life I have been drinking of many wells, but I never yet came to this Well. ‘Ancor soyf j’ay:’ tell me how I must labour, where I must go, to find that Well whereof the drinker
 
“‘Jamays soyf n’aura
A l’éternité’?”
“Who taught you those lines?” asked the eremitess quickly.
 
“I found them in the device of a jewel,” replied Philippa.
 
“Strange!” said the recluse7; but she did not explain why she thought it so. “Lady, the Living Water is the gift of God; or rather, it is God. And the heart of man was never meant to be satisfied with anything beneath God.”
 
“But the heart of woman, at least,” said Philippa, “for I am not a man—is often satisfied with things beneath God.”
 
“It often rests in them,” said the Grey Lady; “but I doubt whether it is satisfied. That is a strong word. Are you?”
 
“I am most unsatisfied,” answered Philippa; “otherwise I had not come to you. I want rest.”
 
“And yet Christ hath been saying all your life, to you, as to others,—‘Come unto Me, all ye that travail8 and are weary laden9, and I will give you rest.’”
 
“He never gave it me.”
 
“Because you never came for it.”
 
“I wonder if He can give it,” said Philippa, sighing.
 
“Trust me that He can. I never knew it till I came to Him.”
 
“But are you at rest? You scarcely looked so just now.”
 
“At rest,” said the Grey Lady, “except when a breeze of earth stirs the soul which should be soaring above earth—when the dreams of earth come like a thick curtain between that soul and the hope of that Heaven—as it was just now.”
 
“Then you are not exempt10 from that?”
 
“In coming to Christ for rest, we do not leave our human hearts and our human infirmities behind us—assuredly not.”
 
“Then do you think it wrong to desire to beloved?”
 
“Not wrong to desire Christ’s love.”
 
“But to desire the love of some human being, or of any human being?”
 
The eremitess paused an instant before she answered.
 
“I should condemn11 myself if I said so,” she replied in a low tone, the sad cadence returning to her voice. “I must leave that with God. He hath undertaken to purge12 me from sin, and He knows what is sin. If that be so, He will purge me from it. I have put myself in His hands, to be dealt with as pleaseth Him; and my Physician will give me the medicines which He seeth me to need. Let me counsel you to do the same.”
 
“Yet what pleaseth Him might not please me.”
 
“It would be strange if it did.”
 
“Why?” said Philippa.
 
“Because it is your nature to love sin, and it is His nature to love holiness. And what we love, we become. He that loveth sin must needs be a sinner.”
 
“I do not think I love sin,” rejoined Philippa, rather offended.
 
“That is because you cannot see yourself.”
 
Just what Guy of Ashridge had told her; but not more palatable13 now than it had been then.
 
“What is sin?” asked the Grey Lady.
 
Philippa was ready with a list—of sins which she felt certain she had not committed.
 
“Give me leave to add one,” said the eremitess. “Pride is sin; nay14, it is the abominable15 sin which God hateth. And is there no pride in you, Lady de Sergeaux? You tell me you cannot forgive your own father. Now I know nothing of you, nor of him; but if you could see yourself as you stand in God’s sight—whatever it be that he hath done—you would know yourself to be as black a sinner as he. Where, then, is your superiority? You have as much need to be forgiven.”
 
“But I have not!” cried Philippa, in no dulcet16 tones, her annoyance17 getting the better of her civility. “I never was a murderer! I never turned coldly away from one that loved me—for none ever did love me. I never crushed a loving, faithful heart down into the dust. I never brought a child up like a stranger. I never—stay, I will go no further into the catalogue. But I know I am not such a sinner as he—nay, I am not to be compared to him.”
 
“And have you,” asked the Grey Lady, very gently, “turned no cold ear to the loving voice of Christ? Have you not kept far away from the heavenly Father? Have you not grieved the Holy Spirit of God? May it not be said to you, as our Lord said to the Jews of old time,—‘Ye will not come to Me, that ye might have life’?”
 
It was only what Guy of Ashridge had said before. But this time there seemed to be a power with the words which had not gone with his. Philippa was silent. She had no answer to make.
 
“You are right,” she said after a long pause. “I have done all this; but I never saw it before. Mother, the next time you are at the holy mass, will you pray for me?”
 
“Why wait till then?” was the rejoinder. “Let us tell Him so now.”
 
And, surprised as she was at the proposal, Philippa knelt down.
 
“Thank you, and the holy saints bless you,” she said, as she rose. “Now I must go; and I hear Lena’s voice without. But ere I depart, may I ask you one thing?”
 
“Anything.”
 
“What could I possibly have said that pained you? For that something did pain you I am sure. I am sorry for it, whatever it may have been.”
 
The soft voice resumed its troubled tone.
 
“It was only,” said the Grey Lady, “that you uttered a name which has not been named in mine hearing for twenty-seven years: you told me where, and doing what, was one of whom and of whose doings I had thought never to hear any more. One, of whom I try never to think, save when I am praying for him, or in the night when I am alone with God, and can ask Him to pardon me if I sin.”
 
“But whom did I name?” said Philippa, in an astonished tone. “Have I spoken of any but of my husband? Do you know him?”
 
“I have never heard of him before to-day, nor of you.”
 
“I think I did mention the Duke of Lancaster.”
 
A shake of the head negatived this suggestion.
 
“Well, I named none else,” pursued Philippa, “saving the Earl of Arundel; and you cannot know him.”
 
Even then she felt an intense repugnance18 to saying, “My father.” But, much to her surprise, the Grey Lady slowly bowed her head.
 
“And in what manner,” began Philippa, “can you know—”
 
But before she uttered another word, a suspicion which almost terrified her began to steal over her. She threw herself on her knees at the feet of the Grey Lady, and grasped her arm tightly.
 
“All the holy saints have mercy upon us!—are you Isabel La Despenser?”
 
It seemed an hour to Philippa ere the answer came. And it came in a tone so low and quivering that she only just heard it.
 
“I was.”
 
And then a great cry of mingled19 joy and anguish20 rang through the lonely cell.
 
“Mother! mine own mother! I am Philippa Fitzalan!”
 
There was no cry from Isabel. She only held out her arms; and in an embrace as close and tender as that with which they had parted, the long-separated mother and daughter met.

点击收听单词发音收听单词发音  

1 abide UfVyk     
vi.遵守;坚持;vt.忍受
参考例句:
  • You must abide by the results of your mistakes.你必须承担你的错误所造成的后果。
  • If you join the club,you have to abide by its rules.如果你参加俱乐部,你就得遵守它的规章。
2 knight W2Hxk     
n.骑士,武士;爵士
参考例句:
  • He was made an honourary knight.他被授予荣誉爵士称号。
  • A knight rode on his richly caparisoned steed.一个骑士骑在装饰华丽的马上。
3 salvation nC2zC     
n.(尤指基督)救世,超度,拯救,解困
参考例句:
  • Salvation lay in political reform.解救办法在于政治改革。
  • Christians hope and pray for salvation.基督教徒希望并祈祷灵魂得救。
4 drooped ebf637c3f860adcaaf9c11089a322fa5     
弯曲或下垂,发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 )
参考例句:
  • Her eyelids drooped as if she were on the verge of sleep. 她眼睑低垂好像快要睡着的样子。
  • The flowers drooped in the heat of the sun. 花儿晒蔫了。
5 cadence bccyi     
n.(说话声调的)抑扬顿挫
参考例句:
  • He delivered his words in slow,measured cadences.他讲话缓慢而抑扬顿挫、把握有度。
  • He liked the relaxed cadence of his retired life.他喜欢退休生活的悠闲的节奏。
6 compassionately 40731999c58c9ac729f47f5865d2514f     
adv.表示怜悯地,有同情心地
参考例句:
  • The man at her feet looked up at Scarlett compassionately. 那个躺在思嘉脚边的人同情地仰望着她。 来自飘(部分)
  • Then almost compassionately he said,"You should be greatly rewarded." 接着他几乎带些怜悯似地说:“你是应当得到重重酬报的。” 来自辞典例句
7 recluse YC4yA     
n.隐居者
参考例句:
  • The old recluse secluded himself from the outside world.这位老隐士与外面的世界隔绝了。
  • His widow became a virtual recluse for the remainder of her life.他的寡妻孤寂地度过了余生。
8 travail ZqhyZ     
n.阵痛;努力
参考例句:
  • Mothers know the travail of giving birth to a child.母亲们了解分娩时的痛苦。
  • He gained the medal through his painful travail.他通过艰辛的努力获得了奖牌。
9 laden P2gx5     
adj.装满了的;充满了的;负了重担的;苦恼的
参考例句:
  • He is laden with heavy responsibility.他肩负重任。
  • Dragging the fully laden boat across the sand dunes was no mean feat.将满载货物的船拖过沙丘是一件了不起的事。
10 exempt wmgxo     
adj.免除的;v.使免除;n.免税者,被免除义务者
参考例句:
  • These goods are exempt from customs duties.这些货物免征关税。
  • He is exempt from punishment about this thing.关于此事对他已免于处分。
11 condemn zpxzp     
vt.谴责,指责;宣判(罪犯),判刑
参考例句:
  • Some praise him,whereas others condemn him.有些人赞扬他,而有些人谴责他。
  • We mustn't condemn him on mere suppositions.我们不可全凭臆测来指责他。
12 purge QS1xf     
n.整肃,清除,泻药,净化;vt.净化,清除,摆脱;vi.清除,通便,腹泻,变得清洁
参考例句:
  • The new president carried out a purge of disloyal army officers.新总统对不忠诚的军官进行了清洗。
  • The mayoral candidate has promised to purge the police department.市长候选人答应清洗警察部门。
13 palatable 7KNx1     
adj.可口的,美味的;惬意的
参考例句:
  • The truth is not always very palatable.事实真相并非尽如人意。
  • This wine is palatable and not very expensive.这种酒味道不错,价钱也不算贵。
14 nay unjzAQ     
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者
参考例句:
  • He was grateful for and proud of his son's remarkable,nay,unique performance.他为儿子出色的,不,应该是独一无二的表演心怀感激和骄傲。
  • Long essays,nay,whole books have been written on this.许多长篇大论的文章,不,应该说是整部整部的书都是关于这件事的。
15 abominable PN5zs     
adj.可厌的,令人憎恶的
参考例句:
  • Their cruel treatment of prisoners was abominable.他们虐待犯人的做法令人厌恶。
  • The sanitary conditions in this restaurant are abominable.这家饭馆的卫生状况糟透了。
16 dulcet m8Tyb     
adj.悦耳的
参考例句:
  • Quickly,in her dulcet voice,Tamara told him what had happened.塔玛拉用她美妙悦耳的声音快速向他讲述了所发生的一切。
  • Her laugh was dulcet and throaty.她的笑声低沉悦耳。
17 annoyance Bw4zE     
n.恼怒,生气,烦恼
参考例句:
  • Why do you always take your annoyance out on me?为什么你不高兴时总是对我出气?
  • I felt annoyance at being teased.我恼恨别人取笑我。
18 repugnance oBWz5     
n.嫌恶
参考例句:
  • He fought down a feelings of repugnance.他抑制住了厌恶感。
  • She had a repugnance to the person with whom she spoke.她看不惯这个和她谈话的人。
19 mingled fdf34efd22095ed7e00f43ccc823abdf     
混合,混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 ); 混进,与…交往[联系]
参考例句:
  • The sounds of laughter and singing mingled in the evening air. 笑声和歌声交织在夜空中。
  • The man and the woman mingled as everyone started to relax. 当大家开始放松的时候,这一男一女就开始交往了。
20 anguish awZz0     
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼
参考例句:
  • She cried out for anguish at parting.分手时,她由于痛苦而失声大哭。
  • The unspeakable anguish wrung his heart.难言的痛苦折磨着他的心。


欢迎访问英文小说网

©英文小说网 2005-2010

有任何问题,请给我们留言,管理员邮箱:[email protected]  站长QQ :点击发送消息和我们联系56065533