Containing an Incident Which Is the Termination of Most Tales, though Almost the Beginning of the Present.
IT WAS about two hours before sunset that Captain Armine summoned up courage to call at Ducie Bower1. He enquired2 for Mr. Temple, and learned to his surprise that Mr. Temple had quitted Ducie yesterday morning for Scotland. ‘And Miss Temple?’ said Ferdinand. ‘Is at home, Sir,’ replied the servant. Ferdinand was ushered3 into the salon4. She was not there. Our hero was very nervous; he had been bold enough in the course of his walk from the farmhouse5, and indulged in a thousand imaginary conversations with his mistress; but, now that he was really about to meet her, all his fire and fancy deserted6 him. Everything occurred to him inauspicious to his suit; his own situation, the short time she had known him, his uncertainty7 of the state of her affections. How did he know she was not engaged to another? why should she not be betrothed8 as well as himself? This contingency9 had occurred to him before, and yet he had driven it from his thoughts. He began to be jealous; he began to think himself a very great fool; at any rate, he resolved not to expose himself any further. He was clearly premature10; he would call tomorrow or next day: to speak to her now was certainly impossible.
The door opened; she entered, radiant as the day! What a smile! what dazzling teeth! what ravishing dimples! her eyes flashed like summer lightning; she extended to him a hand white and soft as one of those doves that had played about him in the morning. Surely never was anyone endued11 with such an imperial presence. So stately, so majestic12, and yet withal so simply gracious; full of such airy artlessness, at one moment she seemed an empress, and then only a beautiful child; and the hand and arm that seemed fashioned to wave a sceptre, in an instant appeared only fit to fondle a gazelle, or pluck a flower.
‘How do you do?’ she said; and he really fancied she was going to sing. He was not yet accustomed to that marvellous voice. It broke upon the silence, like a silver bell just touched by the summer air. ‘It is kind of you to come and see a lone13 maiden,’ she continued; ‘papa has deserted me, and without any preparation. I cannot endure to be separated from him, and this is almost the only time that he has refused my solicitation14 to accompany him. But he must travel far and quickly. My uncle has sent for him; he is very unwell, and papa is his trustee. There is business; I do not know what it is, but I dare say not very agreeable. By-the-bye, I hope Lady Armine is well?’
‘My papa has deserted me,’ said Ferdinand with a smile. ‘They have not yet arrived, and some days may yet elapse before they reach Armine.’
‘Indeed! I hope they are well.’
‘Yes; they are well.’
‘Did you ride here?’
‘No.’
‘You did not walk?’
‘I hardly know how I came; I believe I walked.’
‘You must be very tired; and you are standing15! pray sit down; sit in that chair; you know that is your favourite chair.’
And Ferdinand seated himself in the very chair in which he had watched her the preceding night.
‘This is certainly my favourite chair,’ he said; ‘I know no seat in the world I prefer to this.’
‘Will you take some refreshment16? I am sure you will; you must be very tired. Take some hock; papa always takes hock and soda17 water. I shall order some hock and soda water for you.’ She rose and rang the bell in spite of his remonstrance18.
‘And have you been walking, Miss Temple?’ enquired Ferdinand.
‘I was thinking of strolling now,’ she replied, ‘but I am glad that you have called, for I wanted an excuse to be idle.’
An hour passed away, nor was the conversation on either side very brilliantly supported. Ferdinand seemed dull, but, indeed, was only moody19, revolving20 in his mind many strange incidents and feelings, and then turning for consolation21 in his perplexities to the enchanting23 vision on which he still could gaze. Nor was Miss Temple either in her usually sparkling vein24; her liveliness seemed an effort; she was more constrained25, she was less fluent than before. Ferdinand, indeed, rose more than once to depart; yet still he remained. He lost his cap; he looked for his cap; and then again seated himself. Again he rose, restless and disquieted26, wandered about the room, looked at a picture, plucked a flower, pulled the flower to pieces.
‘Miss Temple,’ he at length observed, ‘I am afraid I am very stupid!’
‘Because you are silent?’
‘Is not that a sufficient reason?’
‘Nay! I think not; I think I am rather fond of silent people myself; I cannot bear to live with a person who feels bound to talk because he is my companion. The whole day passes sometimes without papa and myself exchanging fifty words; yet I am very happy; I do not feel that we are dull:’ and Miss Temple pursued her work which she had previously27 taken up.
‘Ah! but I am not your papa; when we are very intimate with people, when they interest us, we are engaged with their feelings, we do not perpetually require their ideas. But an acquaintance, as I am, only an acquaintance, a miserable28 acquaintance, unless I speak or listen, I have no business to be here; unless I in some degree contribute to the amusement or the convenience of my companion, I degenerate29 into a bore.’
‘I think you are very amusing, and you may be useful if you like, very;’ and she offered him a skein of silk, which she requested him to hold.
It was a beautiful hand that was extended to him; a beautiful hand is an excellent thing in woman; it is a charm that never palls30, and better than all, it is a means of fascination31 that never disappears. Women carry a beautiful hand with them to the grave, when a beautiful face has long ago vanished, or ceased to enchant22. The expression of the hand, too, is inexhaustible; and when the eyes we may have worshipped no longer flash or sparkle, the ringlets with which we may have played are covered with a cap, or worse, a turban, and the symmetrical presence which in our sonnets32 has reminded us so oft of antelopes33 and wild gazelles, have all, all vanished, the hand, the immortal34 hand, defying alike time and care, still vanquishes35, and still triumphs; and small, soft, and fair, by an airy attitude, a gentle pressure, or a new ring, renews with untiring grace the spell that bound our enamoured and adoring youth!
But in the present instance there were eyes as bright as the hand, locks more glossy36 and luxuriant than Helen’s of Troy, a cheek pink as a shell, and breaking into dimples like a May morning into sunshine, and lips from which stole forth37 a perfume sweeter than the whole conservatory38. Ferdinand sat down on a chair opposite Miss Temple, with the extended skein.
‘Now this is better than doing nothing!’ she said, catching39 his eye with a glance half-kind, half-arch. ‘I suspect, Captain Armine, that your melancholy40 originates in idleness.’
‘Ah! if I could only be employed every day in this manner!’ ejaculated Ferdinand.
‘Nay! not with a distaff; but you must do something. You must get into parliament.’
‘You forget that I am a Catholic,’ said Ferdinand.
Miss Temple slightly blushed, and talked rather quickly about her work; but her companion would not relinquish41 the subject.
‘I hope you are not prejudiced against my faith,’ said Ferdinand.
‘Prejudiced! Dear Captain Armine, do not make me repent42 too seriously a giddy word. I feel it is wrong that matters of taste should mingle43 with matters of belief; but, to speak the truth, I am not quite sure that a Howard, or an Armine, who was a Protestant, like myself, would quite please my fancy so much as in their present position, which, if a little inconvenient44, is very picturesque45.’
Ferdinand smiled. ‘My great grandmother was a Protestant,’ said Ferdinand, ‘Margaret Armine. Do you think Margaret a pretty name?’
‘Queen Margaret! yes, a fine name, I think; barring its abbreviation.’
‘I wish my great grandmother’s name had not been Margaret,’ said Ferdinand, very seriously.
‘Now, why should that respectable dame’s baptism disturb your fancy?’ enquired Miss Temple.
‘I wish her name had been Henrietta,’ replied Ferdinand. ‘Henrietta Armine. You know there was a Henrietta Armine once?’
‘Was there?’ said Miss Temple, rising. ‘Our skein is finished. You have been very good. I must go and see my flowers. Come.’ And as she said this little word, she turned her fair and finely-finished neck, and looked over her shoulder at Ferdinand with an arch expression of countenance46 peculiar47 to her. That winning look, indeed, that clear, sweet voice, and that quick graceful48 attitude, blended into a spell which was irresistible49. His heart yearned50 for Henrietta Temple, and rose at the bidding of her voice.
From the conservatory they stepped into the garden. It was a delicious afternoon; the sun had sunk behind the grove51, and the air, which had been throughout the day somewhat oppressive, was now warm, but mild. At Ducie there was a fine old terrace facing the western hills, that bound the valley in which the Bower was situate. These hills, a ridge52 of moderate elevation53, but of picturesque form, parted just opposite the terrace, as if on purpose to admit the setting sun, like inferior existences that had, as it were, made way before the splendour of some mighty54 lord or conqueror55. The lofty and sloping bank which this terrace crowned was covered with rare shrubs56, and occasionally a group of tall trees sprang up among them, and broke the view with an interference which was far from ungraceful, while plants, spreading forth from large marble vases, had extended over their trunks, and sometimes, in their play, had touched even their topmost branches. Between the terrace and the distant hills extended a tract57 of pasture-land, green and well-wooded by its rich hedgerows; not a roof was visible, though many farms and hamlets were at hand; and, in the heart of a rich and populous58 land, here was a region where the shepherd or the herdsman was the only evidence of human existence. It was thither59, a grateful spot at such an hour, that Miss Temple and her companion directed their steps. The last beam of the sun flashed across the flaming horizon as they gained the terrace; the hills, well wooded, or presenting a bare and acute outline to the sky, rose sharply defined in form; while in another direction some more distant elevations60 were pervaded62 with a rich purple tint63, touched sometimes with a rosy64 blaze of soft and flickering65 light. The whole scene, indeed, from the humble66 pasture-land that was soon to creep into darkness, to the proud hills whose sparkling crests67 were yet touched by the living beam, was bathed with lucid68 beauty and luminous69 softness, and blended with the glowing canopy70 of the lustrous71 sky. But on the terrace and the groves72 that rose beyond it, and on the glades73 and vistas74 into which they opened, fell the full glory of the sunset. Each moment a new shadow, now rosy, now golden, now blending in its shifting tints75 all the glory of the iris76, fell over the rich pleasure-grounds, their groups of rare and noble trees, and their dim or glittering avenues.
The vespers of the birds were faintly dying away, the last low of the returning kine sounded over the lea, the tinkle77 of the sheep-bell was heard no more, the thin white moon began to gleam, and Hesperus glittered in the fading sky. It was the twilight78 hour!
That delicious hour that softens79 the heart of man, what is its magic? Not merely its beauty; it is not more beautiful than the sunrise. It is its repose80. Our tumultuous passions sink with the sun, there is a fine sympathy between us and our world, and the stillness of Nature is responded to by the serenity81 of the soul.
At this sacred hour our hearts are pure. All worldly cares, all those vulgar anxieties and aspirations82 that at other seasons hover83 like vultures over our existence, vanish from the serene84 atmosphere of our susceptibility. A sense of beauty and a sentiment of love pervade61 our being. But if at such a moment solitude85 is full of joy, if, even when alone, our native sensibility suffices to entrance us with a tranquil86 yet thrilling bliss87, how doubly sweet, how multiplied must be our fine emotions, when the most delicate influence of human sympathy combines with the power and purity of material and moral nature, and completes the exquisite88 and enchanting spell!
Ferdinand Armine turned from the beautiful world around him to gaze upon a countenance sweeter than the summer air, softer than the gleaming moon, brighter than the evening star. The shadowy light of purple eve fell upon the still and solemn presence of Henrietta Temple. Irresistible emotion impelled89 him; softly he took her gentle hand, and, bending his head, he murmured to her, ‘Most beautiful, I love thee!’
As, in the oppressive stillness of some tropic night, a single drop is the refreshing90 harbinger of a slower that clears the heavens, so even this slight expression relieved in an instant the intensity91 of his over-burthened feelings, and warm, quick, and gushing92 flowed the words that breathed his fervid93 adoration94. ‘Yes!’ he continued, ‘in this fair scene, oh! let me turn to something fairer still. Beautiful, beloved Henrietta, I can repress no longer the emotions that, since I first beheld95 you, have vanquished96 my existence. I love you, I adore you; life in your society is heaven; without you I cannot live. Deem me, oh! deem me not too bold, sweet lady; I am not worthy97 of you, yet let me love! I am not worthy of you, but who can be? Ah! if I dared but venture to offer you my heart, if that humblest of all possessions might indeed be yours, if my adoration, if my devotion, if the consecration98 of my life to you, might in some degree compensate99 for its little worth, if I might live even but to hope———
‘You do not speak. Miss Temple, Henrietta, admirable Henrietta, have I offended you? Am I indeed the victim of hopes too high and fancies too supreme100? Oh! pardon me, most beautiful, I pray your pardon. Is it a crime to feel, perchance too keenly, the sense of beauty like to thine, dear lady? Ah! tell me I am forgiven; tell me indeed you do not hate me. I will be silent, I will never speak again. Yet, let me walk with you. Cease not to be my companion because I have been too bold. Pity me, pity me, dearest, dearest Henrietta. If you but knew how I have suffered, if you but knew the nights that brought no sleep, the days of fever that have been mine since first we met, if you but knew how I have fed but upon one sweet idea, one sacred image of absorbing life, since first I gazed on your transcendent form, indeed I think that you would pity, that you would pardon, that you might even———
‘Tell me, is it my fault that you are beautiful! Oh! how beautiful, my wretched and exhausted101 soul too surely feels! Is it my fault those eyes are like the dawn, that thy sweet voice thrills through my frame, and but the slightest touch of that light hand falls like a spell on my entranced form! Ah! Henrietta, be merciful, be kind!’
He paused for a second, and yet she did not answer; but her cheek fell upon his shoulder, and the gentle pressure of her hand was more eloquent102 than language. That slight, sweet signal was to him as the sunrise on the misty103 earth. Full of hope, and joy, and confidence, he took her in his arms, sealed her cold lips with a burning kiss, and vowed104 to her his eternal and almighty105 love!
He bore her to an old stone bench placed on the terrace. Still she was silent; but her hand clasped his, and her head rested on his bosom106. The gleaming moon now glittered, the hills and woods were silvered by its beam, and the far meads were bathed with its clear, fair light. Not a single cloud curtained the splendour of the stars. What a rapturous soul was Ferdinand Armine’s as he sat that night on the old bench, on Ducie Terrace, shrouding107 from the rising breeze the trembling form of Henrietta Temple! And yet it was not cold that made her shiver.
The clock of Ducie Church struck ten. She moved, saying, in a faint voice, ‘We must go home, my Ferdinand!’
收听单词发音 |
1
bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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enquired
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| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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contingency
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| n.意外事件，可能性 | |
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premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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endued
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| v.授予，赋予（特性、才能等）( endue的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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solicitation
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| n.诱惑；揽货；恳切地要求；游说 | |
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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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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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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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revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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enchant
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| vt.使陶醉，使入迷；使着魔，用妖术迷惑 | |
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enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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disquieted
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| v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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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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degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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palls
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| n.柩衣( pall的名词复数 )；墓衣；棺罩；深色或厚重的覆盖物v.（因过多或过久而）生厌，感到乏味，厌烦( pall的第三人称单数 ) | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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sonnets
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| n.十四行诗( sonnet的名词复数 ) | |
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antelopes
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| 羚羊( antelope的名词复数 )； 羚羊皮革 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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vanquishes
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| v.征服( vanquish的第三人称单数 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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relinquish
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| v.放弃，撤回，让与，放手 | |
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repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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inconvenient
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| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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50
yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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52
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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populous
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| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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elevations
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| （水平或数量）提高( elevation的名词复数 )； 高地； 海拔； 提升 | |
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pervade
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| v.弥漫，遍及，充满，渗透，漫延 | |
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pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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lucid
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| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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vistas
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| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
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tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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iris
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| n.虹膜，彩虹 | |
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tinkle
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| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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softens
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| （使）变软( soften的第三人称单数 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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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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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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gushing
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| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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fervid
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| adj.热情的；炽热的 | |
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adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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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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consecration
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| n.供献，奉献，献祭仪式 | |
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compensate
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| vt.补偿，赔偿；酬报 vi.弥补；补偿；抵消 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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shrouding
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| n.覆盖v.隐瞒( shroud的现在分词 )；保密 | |
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