‘Be hanged to your aristocrats1!’ Ponto said, in some conversation we had regarding the family at Carabas, between whom and the Evergreens2 there was a feud3. ‘When I first came into the county — it was the year before Sir John Buff contested in the Blue interest — the Marquis, then Lord St. Michaels, who, of course, was Orange to the core, paid me and Mrs. Ponto such attentions, that I fairly confess I was taken in by the old humbug4, and thought that I’d met with a rare neighbour. ‘Gad, Sir, we used to get pines from Carabas, and pheasants from Carabas, and it was —“Ponto, when will you come over and shoot?”— and —“Ponto, our pheasants want thinning,”— and my Lady would insist upon her dear Mrs. Ponto coming over to Carabas to sleep, and put me I don’t know to what expense for turbans and velvet5 gowns for my wife’s toilette. Well, Sir, the election takes place, and though I was always a Liberal, personal friendship of course induces me to plump for St. Michaels, who comes in at the head of the poll. Next year, Mrs. P. insists upon going to town — with lodgings6 in Clarges Street at ten pounds a week, with a hired brougham, and new dresses for herself and the girls, and the deuce and all to pay. Our first cards were to Carabas House; my Lady’s are returned by a great big flunkey; and I leave you to fancy my poor Betsy’s discomfiture7 as the lodging-house maid took in the cards, and Lady St. Michaels drives away, though she actually saw us at the drawing-room window. Would you believe it, Sir, that though we called four times afterwards, those infernal aristocrats never returned our visit; that though Lady St. Michaels gave nine dinner-parties and four DEJEUNERS that season, she never asked us to one; and that she cut us dead at the Opera, though Betsy was nodding to her the whole night? We wrote to her for tickets for Almack’s; she writes to say that all hers were promised; and said, in the presence of Wiggins, her lady’s-maid, who told it to Diggs, my wife’s woman, that she couldn’t conceive how people in our station of life could so far forget themselves as to wish to appear in any such place! Go to Castle Carabas! I’d sooner die than set my foot in the house of that impertinent, insolvent9, insolent10 jackanapes — and I hold him in scorn!’ After this, Ponto gave me some private information regarding Lord Carabas’s pecuniary11 affairs; how he owed money all over the county; how Jukes the carpenter was utterly12 ruined and couldn’t get a shilling of his bill; how Biggs the butcher hanged himself for the same reason; how the six big footmen never received a guinea of wages, and Snaffle, the state coachman, actually took off his blown-glass wig8 of ceremony and flung it at Lady Carabas’s feet on the terrace before the Castle; all which stories, as they are private, I do not think proper to divulge13. But these details did not stifle14 my desire to see the famous mansion15 of Castle Carabas, nay16, possibly excited my interest to know more about that lordly house and its owners.
At the entrance of the park, there are a pair of great gaunt mildewed17 lodges18 — mouldy Doric temples with black chimney-pots, in the finest classic taste, and the gates of course are surmounted19 by the CHATS BOTTES, the well-known supporters of the Carabas family. ‘Give the lodge-keeper a shilling,’ says Ponto, (who drove me near to it in his four-wheeled cruelty-chaise). ‘I warrant it’s the first piece of ready money he has received for some time. I don’t know whether there was any foundation for this sneer20, but the gratuity21 was received with a curtsey, and the gate opened for me to enter. ‘Poor old porteress!’ says I, inwardly. ‘You little know that it is the Historian of Snobs22 whom you let in!’ The gates were passed. A damp green stretch of park spread right and left immeasurably, confined by a chilly24 grey wall, and a damp long straight road between two huge rows of moist, dismal25 lime-trees, leads up to the Castle. In the midst of the park is a great black tank or lake, bristling26 over with rushes, and here and there covered over with patches of pea-soup. A shabby temple rises on an island in this delectable27 lake, which is approached by a rotten barge28 that lies at roost in a dilapidated boat house. Clumps29 of elms and oaks dot over the huge green flat. Every one of them would have been down long since, but that the Marquis is not allowed to cut the timber.
Up that long avenue the Snobographer walked in solitude30. At the seventy-ninth tree on the left-hand side, the insolvent butcher hanged himself. I scarcely wondered at the dismal deed, so woful and sad were the impressions connected with the place. So, for a mile and a half I walked — alone and thinking of death.
I forgot to say the house is in full view all the way — except when intercepted31 by the trees on the miserable32 island in the lake — an enormous red-brick mansion, square, vast, and dingy33. It is flanked by four stone towers with weathercocks. In the midst of the grand facade34 is a huge Ionic portico35, approached by a vast, lonely, ghastly staircase. Rows of black windows, framed in stone, stretch on either side, right and left — three storeys and eighteen windows of a row. You may see a picture of the palace and staircase, in the ‘Views of England and Wales,’ with four carved and gilt36 carriages waiting at the gravel37 walk, and several parties of ladies and gentlemen in wigs38 and hoops39, dotting the fatiguing40 lines of stairs.
But these stairs are made in great houses for people NOT to ascend41. The first Lady Carabas (they are but eighty years in the peerage), if she got out of her gilt coach in a shower, would be wet to the skin before she got half-way to the carved Ionic portico, where four dreary42 statues of Peace, Plenty, Piety43 and Patriotism44, are the only sentinels. You enter these palaces by back-doors. ‘That was the way the Carabases got their peerage,’ the misanthropic45 Ponto said after dinner.
Well — I rang the bell at a little low side-door; it clanged and jingled46 and echoed for a long, long while, till at length a face, as of a housekeeper47, peered through the door, and, as she saw my hand in my waistcoat pocket, opened it. Unhappy, lonely housekeeper, I thought. Is Miss Crusoe in her island more solitary48? The door clapped to, and I was in Castle Carabas.
‘The side entrance and All,’ says the housekeeper. ‘The halligator hover49 the mantelpiece was brought home by Hadmiral St. Michaels, when a Capting with Lord Hanson. The harms on the cheers is the harms of the Carabas family.’ The hall was rather comfortable. We went clapping up a clean stone backstair, and then into a back passage cheerfully decorated with ragged50 light-green Kidderminster, and issued upon
‘THE GREAT ALL.
‘The great all is seventy-two feet in lenth, fifty-six in breath, and thirty-eight feet ‘igh. The carvings51 of the chimlies, representing the birth of Venus, and Ercules, and Eyelash, is by Van Chislum, the most famous sculpture of his hage and country. The ceiling, by Calimanco, represents Painting, Harchitecture and Music (the naked female figure with the barrel horgan) introducing George, fust Lord Carabas, to the Temple of the Muses52. The winder ornaments53 is by Vanderputty. The floor is Patagonian marble; and the chandelier in the centre was presented to Lionel, second Marquis, by Lewy the Sixteenth, whose ‘ead was cut hoff in the French Revelation. We now henter
THE SOUTH GALLERY.
‘One ‘undred and forty-eight in lenth by thirty-two in breath; it is profusely54 hornaminted by the choicest works of Hart. Sir Andrew Katz, founder55 of the Carabas family and banker of the Prince of Horange, Kneller. Her present Ladyship, by Lawrence. Lord St. Michaels, by the same — he is represented sittin’ on a rock in velvit pantaloons. Moses in the bullrushes — the bull very fine, by Paul Potter. The toilet of Venus, Fantaski. Flemish Bores drinking, Van Ginnums. Jupiter and Europia, de Horn. The Grandjunction Canal, Venis, by Candleetty; and Italian Bandix, by Slavata Rosa.’— And so this worthy56 woman went on, from one room into another, from the blue room to the green, and the green to the grand saloon, and the grand saloon to the tapestry57 closet, cackling her list of pictures and wonders: and furtively58 turning up a corner of brown holland to show the colour of the old, faded, seedy, mouldy, dismal hangings.
At last we came to her Ladyship’s bed-room. In the centre of this dreary apartment there is a bed about the size of one of those whizgig temples in which the Genius appears in a pantomime. The huge gilt edifice59 is approached by steps, and so tall, that it might be let off in floors, for sleeping-rooms for all the Carabas family. An awful bed! A murder might be done at one end of that bed, and people sleeping at the other end be ignorant of it. Gracious powers! fancy little Lord Carabas in a nightcap ascending60 those steps after putting out the candle!
The sight of that seedy and solitary splendour was too much for me. I should go mad were I that lonely housekeeper — in those enormous galleries — in that lonely library, filled up with ghastly folios that nobody dares read, with an inkstand on the centre table like the coffin61 of a baby, and sad portraits staring at you from the bleak62 walls with their solemn Mouldy eyes. No wonder that Carabas does not come down here often.
It would require two thousand footmen to make the place cheerful. No wonder the coachman resigned his wig, that the masters are insolvent, and the servants perish in this huge dreary out-at-elbow place.
A single family has no more right to build itself a temple of that sort than to erect63 a Tower of Babel. Such a habitation is not decent for a mere64 mortal man. But, after all, I suppose poor Carabas had no choice. Fate put him there as it sent Napoleon to St. Helena. Suppose it had been decreed by Nature that you and I should be Marquises? We wouldn’t refuse, I suppose, but take Castle Carabas and all, with debts, duns, and mean makeshifts, and shabby pride, and swindling magnificence.
Next season, when I read of Lady Carabas’s splendid entertainments in the MORNING POST, and see the poor old insolvent cantering through the Park — I shall have a much tenderer interest in these great people than I have had heretofore. Poor old shabby Snob23! Ride on and fancy the world is still on its knees before the house of Carabas! Give yourself airs, poor old bankrupt Magnifico, who are under money-obligations to your flunkeys; and must stoop so as to swindle poor tradesmen! And for us, O my brother Snobs, oughtn’t we to feel happy if our walk through life is more even, and that we are out of the reach of that surprising arrogance65 and that astounding66 meanness to which this wretched old victim is obliged to mount and descend67.
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1
aristocrats
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| n.贵族( aristocrat的名词复数 ) | |
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evergreens
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| n.常青树，常绿植物，万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
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feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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insolvent
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| adj.破产的，无偿还能力的 | |
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insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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pecuniary
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| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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divulge
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| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
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stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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mildewed
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| adj.发了霉的，陈腐的，长了霉花的v.（使）发霉，（使）长霉( mildew的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lodges
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| v.存放( lodge的第三人称单数 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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gratuity
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| n.赏钱，小费 | |
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snobs
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| （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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snob
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| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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delectable
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| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
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barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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intercepted
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| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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facade
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| n.(建筑物的)正面，临街正面；外表 | |
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portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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wigs
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| n.假发，法官帽( wig的名词复数 ) | |
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hoops
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| n.箍( hoop的名词复数 )；（篮球）篮圈；（旧时儿童玩的）大环子；（两端埋在地里的）小铁弓 | |
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fatiguing
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| a.使人劳累的 | |
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ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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misanthropic
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| adj.厌恶人类的，憎恶（或蔑视）世人的；愤世嫉俗 | |
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jingled
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| 喝醉的 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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carvings
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| n.雕刻( carving的名词复数 )；雕刻术；雕刻品；雕刻物 | |
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muses
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的第三人称单数 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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profusely
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| ad.abundantly | |
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Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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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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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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arrogance
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| n.傲慢，自大 | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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