Our selection of Snobs1 has lately been too exclusively of a political character. ‘Give us private Snobs,’ cry the dear ladies. (I have before me the letter of one fair correspondent of the fishing village of Brighthelmstone in Sussex, and could her commands ever be disobeyed?) ‘Tell us more, dear Mr. Snob2, about your experience of Snobs in society.’ Heaven bless the dear souls!— they are accustomed to the word now — the odious3, vulgar, horrid4, unpronounceable word slips out of their lips with the prettiest glibness5 possible. I should not wonder if it were used at Court amongst the Maids of Honour. In the very best society I know it is. And why not? Snobbishness7 is vulgar — the mere8 words are not: that which we call a Snob, by any other name would still be Snobbish6.
Well, then. As the season is drawing to a close: as many hundreds of kind souls, snobbish or otherwise, have quitted London; as many hospitable9 carpets are taken up; and window-blinds are pitilessly papered with the MORNING HERALD10; and mansions11 once inhabited by cheerful owners are now consigned12 to the care of the housekeeper’s dreary13 LOCUM TENENS— some mouldy old woman, who, in reply to the hopeless clanging of the bell, peers at you for a moment from the area, and then slowly unbolting the great hall-door, informs you my lady has left town, or that ‘the family’s in the country,’ or ‘gone up the Rind,’— or what not; as the season and parties are over; why not consider Party-giving Snobs for a while, and review the conduct of some of those individuals who have quitted the town for six months?
Some of those worthy14 Snobs are making-believe to go yachting, and, dressed in telescopes and pea-jackets, are passing their time between Cherbourg and Cowes; some living higgledy-piggledy in dismal15 little huts in Scotland, provisioned with canisters of portable soup, and fricandeaux hermetically sealed in tin, are passing their days slaughtering16 grouse17 upon the moors18; some are dozing19 and bathing away the effects of the season at Kissingen, or watching the ingenious game of TRENTE ET QUARANTE at Homburg and Ems. We can afford to be very bitter upon them now they are all gone. Now there are no more parties, let us have at the Party-giving Snobs. The dinner-giving, the ball-giving, the DEJEUNER-giving, the CONVERSAZIONE-GIVING Snobs — Lord! Lord! what havoc20 might have been made amongst them had we attacked them during the plethora21 of the season! I should have been obliged to have a guard to defend me from fiddlers and pastrycooks, indignant at the abuse of their patrons. Already I’m told that, from some flippant and unguarded expressions considered derogatory to Baker22 Street and Harley Street, rents have fallen in these respectable quarters; and orders have been issued that at least Mr. Snob shall be asked to parties there no more. Well, then — now they are ALL away, let us frisk at our ease, and have at everything like the bull in the china-shop. They mayn’t hear of what is going on in their absence, and, if they do they can’t bear malice23 for six months. We will begin to make it up with them about next February, and let next year take care of itself. We shall have no dinners from the dinner-giving Snobs: no more from the ball-givers: no more CONVERSAZIONES (thank Mussy! as Jeames says,) from the Conversaziones Snob: and what is to prevent us from telling the truth?
The snobbishness of Conversazione Snobs is very soon disposed of: as soon as that cup of washy bohea is handed to you in the tea-room; or the muddy remnant of ice that you grasp in the suffocating24 scuffle of the assembly upstairs.
Good heavens! What do people mean by going there? What is done there, that everybody throngs25 into those three little rooms? Was the Black Hole considered to be an agreeable REUNION, that Britons in the dog-days here seek to imitate it? After being rammed26 to a jelly in a door-way (where you feel your feet going through Lady Barbara Macbeth’s lace flounces, and get a look from that haggard and painted old harpy, compared to which the gaze of Ugolino is quite cheerful); after withdrawing your elbow out of poor gasping27 Bob Guttleton’s white waistcoat, from which cushion it was impossible to remove it, though you knew you were squeezing poor Bob into an apoplexy — you find yourself at last in the reception-room, and try to catch the eye of Mrs. Botibol, the CONVERSAZIONE-giver. When you catch her eye, you are expected to grin, and she smiles too, for the four hundredth time that night; and, if she’s very glad to see you, waggles her little hand before her face as if to blow you a kiss, as the phrase is.
Why the deuce should Mrs. Botibol blow me a kiss? I wouldn’t kiss her for the world. Why do I grin when I see her, as if I was delighted? Am I? I don’t care a straw for Mrs. Botibol. I know what she thinks about me. I know what she said about my last volume of poems (I had it from a dear mutual28 friend). Why, I say in a word, are we going on ogling29 and telegraphing each other in this insane way?— Because we are both performing the ceremonies demanded by the Great Snob Society; whose dictates30 we all of us obey.
Well; the recognition is over — my jaws31 have returned to their usual English expression of subdued32 agony and intense gloom, and the Botibol is grinning and kissing her fingers to somebody else, who is squeezing through the aperture33 by which we have just entered. It is Lady Ann Clutterbuck, who has her Friday evenings, as Botibol (Botty, we call her,) has Wednesdays. That is Miss Clementina Clutterbuck the cadaverous young woman in green, with florid auburn hair, who has published her volume of poems (‘The Death-Shriek;’ ‘Damiens;’ ‘The Faggot of Joan of Arc;’ and ‘Translations from the German’ of course). The conversazione-women salute34 each other calling each other ‘My dear Lady Ann’ and ‘My dear good Eliza,’ and hating each other, as women hate who give parties on Wednesdays and Fridays. With inexpressible pain dear good Eliza sees Ann go up and coax35 and wheedle36 Abou Gosh, who has just arrived from Syria, and beg him to patronize her Fridays.
All this while, amidst the crowd and the scuffle, and a perpetual buzz and chatter37, and the flare38 of the wax-candles, and an intolerable smell of musk39 — what the poor Snobs who write fashionable romances call ‘the gleam of gems40, the odour of perfumes, the blaze of countless41 lamps’— a scrubby-looking, yellow-faced foreigner, with cleaned gloves, is warbling inaudibly in a corner, to the accompaniment of another. ‘The Great Cacafogo,’ Mrs. Botibol whispers, as she passes you by. ‘A great creature, Thumpenstrumpff, is at the instrument — the Hetman Platoff’s pianist, you know.’
To hear this Cacafogo and Thumpenstrumpff, a hundred people are gathered together — a bevy42 of dowagers, stout43 or scraggy; a faint sprinkling of misses; six moody-looking lords, perfectly44 meek45 and solemn; wonderful foreign Counts, with bushy whiskers and yellow faces, and a great deal of dubious46 jewellery; young dandies with slim waists and open necks, and self-satisfied simpers, and flowers in their buttons; the old, stiff, stout, bald-headed CONVERSAZIONE ROUES, whom You meet everywhere — who never miss a night of this delicious enjoyment47; the three last-caught lions of the season — Higgs, the traveller, Biggs, the novelist, and Toffey, who has come out so on the sugar question; Captain Flash, who is invited on account of his pretty wife and Lord Ogleby, who goes wherever she goes.
QUE SCAIS-JE? Who are the owners of all those showy scarfs and white neckcloths?— Ask little Tom Prig, who is there in all his glory, knows everybody, has a story about every one; and, as he trips home to his lodgings48 in Jermyn Street, with his gibus-hat and his little glazed49 pumps, thinks he is the fashionablest young fellow in town, and that he really has passed a night of exquisite50 enjoyment.
You go up (with our usual easy elegance51 of manner) and talk to Miss Smith in a corner. ‘Oh, Mr. Snob, I’m afraid you’re sadly satirical.’
That’s all she says. If you say it’s fine weather, she bursts out laughing; or hint that it’s very hot, she vows52 you are the drollest wretch53! Meanwhile Mrs. Botibol is simpering on fresh arrivals; the individual at the door is roaring out their names; poor Cacafogo is quavering away in the music-room, under the impression that he will be LANCE in the world by singing inaudibly here. And what a blessing54 it is to squeeze out of the door, and into the street, where a half-hundred of carriages are in waiting; and where the link-boy, with that unnecessary lantern of his, pounces55 upon all who issue out, and will insist upon getting your noble honour’s lordship’s cab.
And to think that there are people who, after having been to Botibol on Wednesday, will go to Clutterbuck on Friday!
1 snobs | |
(谄上傲下的)势利小人( snob的名词复数 ); 自高自大者,自命不凡者 | |
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2 snob | |
n.势利小人,自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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3 odious | |
adj.可憎的,讨厌的 | |
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4 horrid | |
adj.可怕的;令人惊恐的;恐怖的;极讨厌的 | |
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5 glibness | |
n.花言巧语;口若悬河 | |
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6 snobbish | |
adj.势利的,谄上欺下的 | |
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7 snobbishness | |
势利; 势利眼 | |
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8 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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9 hospitable | |
adj.好客的;宽容的;有利的,适宜的 | |
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10 herald | |
vt.预示...的来临,预告,宣布,欢迎 | |
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11 mansions | |
n.宅第,公馆,大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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12 consigned | |
v.把…置于(令人不快的境地)( consign的过去式和过去分词 );把…托付给;把…托人代售;丟弃 | |
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13 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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14 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
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15 dismal | |
adj.阴沉的,凄凉的,令人忧郁的,差劲的 | |
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16 slaughtering | |
v.屠杀,杀戮,屠宰( slaughter的现在分词 ) | |
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17 grouse | |
n.松鸡;v.牢骚,诉苦 | |
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18 moors | |
v.停泊,系泊(船只)( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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19 dozing | |
v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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20 havoc | |
n.大破坏,浩劫,大混乱,大杂乱 | |
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21 plethora | |
n.过量,过剩 | |
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22 baker | |
n.面包师 | |
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23 malice | |
n.恶意,怨恨,蓄意;[律]预谋 | |
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24 suffocating | |
a.使人窒息的 | |
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25 throngs | |
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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26 rammed | |
v.夯实(土等)( ram的过去式和过去分词 );猛撞;猛压;反复灌输 | |
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27 gasping | |
adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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28 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
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29 ogling | |
v.(向…)抛媚眼,送秋波( ogle的现在分词 ) | |
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30 dictates | |
n.命令,规定,要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 );口授;支配;摆布 | |
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31 jaws | |
n.口部;嘴 | |
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32 subdued | |
adj. 屈服的,柔和的,减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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33 aperture | |
n.孔,隙,窄的缺口 | |
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34 salute | |
vi.行礼,致意,问候,放礼炮;vt.向…致意,迎接,赞扬;n.招呼,敬礼,礼炮 | |
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35 coax | |
v.哄诱,劝诱,用诱哄得到,诱取 | |
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36 wheedle | |
v.劝诱,哄骗 | |
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37 chatter | |
vi./n.喋喋不休;短促尖叫;(牙齿)打战 | |
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38 flare | |
v.闪耀,闪烁;n.潮红;突发 | |
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39 musk | |
n.麝香, 能发出麝香的各种各样的植物,香猫 | |
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40 gems | |
growth; economy; management; and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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41 countless | |
adj.无数的,多得不计其数的 | |
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42 bevy | |
n.一群 | |
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44 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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45 meek | |
adj.温顺的,逆来顺受的 | |
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46 dubious | |
adj.怀疑的,无把握的;有问题的,靠不住的 | |
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47 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
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48 lodgings | |
n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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49 glazed | |
adj.光滑的,像玻璃的;上过釉的;呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式);上釉于,上光;(目光)变得呆滞无神 | |
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50 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
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51 elegance | |
n.优雅;优美,雅致;精致,巧妙 | |
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52 vows | |
誓言( vow的名词复数 ); 郑重宣布,许愿 | |
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53 wretch | |
n.可怜的人,不幸的人;卑鄙的人 | |
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54 blessing | |
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
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55 pounces | |
v.突然袭击( pounce的第三人称单数 );猛扑;一眼看出;抓住机会(进行抨击) | |
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