A.D. 1767 — in the beginning of the month of May — I mention it because, as I said, I write from memoranda1, an awfully2 dark night came down on Chapelizod and all the country round.
I believe there was no moon, and the stars had been quite put out under the wet ‘blanket of the night,’ which impenetrable muffler overspread the sky with a funereal3 darkness.
There was a little of that sheet-lightning early in the evening, which betokens4 sultry weather. The clouds, column after column, came up sullenly6 over the Dublin mountains, rolling themselves from one horizon to the other into one black dome7 of vapour, their slow but steady motion contrasting with the awful stillness of the air. There was a weight in the atmosphere, and a sort of undefined menace brooding over the little town, as if unseen crime or danger — some mystery of iniquity8 — was stealing into the heart of it, and the disapproving9 heavens scowled10 a melancholy11 warning.
That morning old Sally, the rector’s housekeeper12, was disquieted13. She had dreamed of making the great four-post, state bed, with the dark green damask curtains — a dream that betokened14 some coming trouble — it might, to be sure, be ever so small —(it had once come with no worse result than Dr. Walsingham’s dropping his purse, containing something under a guinea in silver, over the side of the ferry boat)— but again it might be tremendous. The omen15 hung over them doubtful.
A large square letter, with a great round seal, as big as a crown piece, addressed to the Rev16. Hugh Walsingham, Doctor of Divinity, at his house, by the bridge, in Chapelizod, had reached him in the morning, and plainly troubled him. He kept the messenger a good hour awaiting his answer; and, just at two o’clock, the same messenger returned with a second letter — but this time a note sufficed for reply. ‘’Twill seem ungracious,’ said the doctor, knitting his brows over his closed folio in the study; ‘but I cannot choose but walk clear in my calling before the Lord. How can I honestly pronounce hope, when in my mind there is nothing but fear — let another do it if he see his way — I do enough in being present, as ’tis right I should.’
It was, indeed, a remarkably17 dark night — a rush and downpour of rain! The doctor stood just under the porch of the stout18 brick house — of King William’s date, which was then the residence of the worthy19 rector of Chapelizod — with his great surtout and cape20 on — his leggings buttoned up — and his capacious leather ‘overalls’ pulled up and strapped21 over these — and his broad-leafed hat tied down over his wig22 and ears with a mighty23 silk kerchief. I dare say he looked absurd enough — but it was the women’s doing — who always, upon emergencies, took the doctor’s wardrobe in hand. Old Sally, with her kind, mild, grave face, and gray locks, stood modestly behind in the hall; and pretty Lilias, his only child, gave him her parting kiss, and her last grand charge about his shoes and other exterior24 toggery, in the porch; and he patted her cheek with a little fond laugh, taking old John Tracy’s, the butler’s, arm. John carried a handsome horn-lantern, which flashed now on a roadside bush — now on the discoloured battlements of the bridge — and now on a streaming window. They stepped out — there were no umbrellas in those days — splashing among the wide and widening pools; while Sally and Lilias stood in the porch, holding candles for full five minutes after the doctor and his ‘Jack-o’-the-lantern,’ as he called honest John, whose arm and candle always befriended him in his night excursions, had got round the corner.
Through the back bow-window of the Phoenix25, there pealed26 forth27 — faint in the distance and rain — a solemn royal ditty, piped by the tuneful Aldermen of Skinner’s Alley28, and neither unmusical nor somehow uncongenial with the darkness, and the melancholy object of the doctor’s walk, the chant being rather monastic, wild, and dirge-like. It was a quarter past ten, and no other sound of life or human neighbourhood was stirring. If secrecy30 were an object, it was well secured by the sable31 sky, and the steady torrent32 which rolled down with electric weight and perpendicularity33, making all nature resound34 with one long hush35 — sh — sh — sh — sh — deluging36 the broad street, and turning the channels and gutters37 into mimic38 mill-streams which snorted and hurtled headlong through their uneven39 beds, and round the corners towards the turbid40 Liffey, which, battered41 all over with rain, muddy, and sullen5, reeled its way towards the sea, rolling up to the heavens an aspect black as their own.
As they passed by the Phoenix (a little rivulet42, by-the-bye, was spouting43 down from the corner of the sign; and indeed the night was such as might well have caused that suicidal fowl44 to abandon all thoughts of self-incremation, and submit to an unprecedented45 death by drowning), there was no idle officer, or lounging waiter upon the threshold. Military and civilians46 were all snug47 in their quarters that night; and the inn, except for the ‘Aldermen’ in the back parlour, was doing no business. The door was nearly closed, and only let out a tall, narrow slice of candle-light upon the lake of mud, over every inch of which the rain was drumming.
The doctor’s lantern glided48 by — and then across the street — and so leisurely49 along the foot-way, by the range of lightless hall doors towards the Salmon50 House, also dark; and so, sharp round the corner, and up to the church-yard gate, which stood a little open, as also the church door beyond, as was evidenced by the feeble glow of a lantern from within.
I dare say old Bob Martin, the sexton, and grave Mr. Irons, the clerk, were reassured51 when they heard the cheery voice of the rector hailing them by name. There were now three candles in church; but the edifice52 looked unpleasantly dim, and went off at the far end into total darkness. Zekiel Irons was a lean, reserved fellow, with a black wig and blue chin, and something shy and sinister53 in his phiz. I don’t think he had entertained honest Bob with much conversation from those thin lips of his during their grizzly54 tête-à-tête among the black windows and the mural tablets that overhung the aisle55.
But the rector had lots to say — though deliberately56 and gravely, still the voice was genial29 and inspiring — and exorcised the shadows that had been gathering57 stealthily around the lesser58 Church functionaries59. Mrs. Irons’s tooth, he learned, was still bad; but she was no longer troubled with ‘that sour humour in her stomach.’ There were sour humours, alas60! still remaining — enough, and to spare, as the clerk knew to his cost. Bob Martin thanked his reverence61; the cold rheumatism62 in his hip63 was better.’ Irons, the clerk, replied, ‘he had brought two prayer-books.’ Bob averred64 ‘he could not be mistaken; the old lady was buried in the near-vault65; though it was forty years before, he remembered it like last night. They changed her into her lead coffin66 in the vault — he and the undertaker together — her own servants would not put a hand to her. She was buried in white satin, and with her rings on her fingers. It was her fancy, and so ordered in her will. They said she was mad. He’d know her face again if he saw her. She had a long hooked nose; and her eyes were open. For, as he was told, she died in her sleep, and was quite cold and stiff when they found her in the morning. He went down and saw the coffin today, half an hour after meeting his reverence.’
The rector consulted his great warming-pan of a watch. It was drawing near eleven. He fell into a reverie, and rambled67 slowly up and down the aisle, with his hands behind his back, and his dripping hat in them, swinging nearly to the flags,— now lost in the darkness — now emerging again, dim, nebulous, in the foggy light of the lanterns. When this clerical portrait came near, he was looking down, with gathered brows, upon the flags, moving his lips and nodding, as if counting them, as was his way. The doctor was thinking all the time upon the one text:— Why should this livid memorial of two great crimes be now disturbed, after an obscurity of twenty-one years, as if to jog the memory of scandal, and set the great throat of the monster baying once more at the old midnight horror?
And as for that old house at Ballyfermot, why any one could have looked after it as well as he. ‘Still he must live somewhere, and certainly this little town is quieter than the city, and the people, on the whole, very kindly68, and by no means curious.’ This latter was a mistake of the doctor’s, who, like other simple persons, was fond of regarding others as harmless repetitions of himself. ‘And his sojourn69 will be,’ he says, ‘but a matter of weeks; and the doctors mind wandered back again to the dead, and forward to the remoter consequences of his guilt70, so he heaved a heavy, honest sigh, and lifted up his head and slackened his pace for a little prayer, and with that there came the rumble71 of wheels to the church door.
1 memoranda | |
n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
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2 awfully | |
adv.可怕地,非常地,极端地 | |
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3 funereal | |
adj.悲哀的;送葬的 | |
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4 betokens | |
v.预示,表示( betoken的第三人称单数 ) | |
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5 sullen | |
adj.愠怒的,闷闷不乐的,(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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6 sullenly | |
不高兴地,绷着脸,忧郁地 | |
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7 dome | |
n.圆屋顶,拱顶 | |
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8 iniquity | |
n.邪恶;不公正 | |
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9 disapproving | |
adj.不满的,反对的v.不赞成( disapprove的现在分词 ) | |
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10 scowled | |
怒视,生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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11 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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12 housekeeper | |
n.管理家务的主妇,女管家 | |
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13 disquieted | |
v.使不安,使忧虑,使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14 betokened | |
v.预示,表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15 omen | |
n.征兆,预兆;vt.预示 | |
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16 rev | |
v.发动机旋转,加快速度 | |
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17 remarkably | |
ad.不同寻常地,相当地 | |
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19 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
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20 cape | |
n.海角,岬;披肩,短披风 | |
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21 strapped | |
adj.用皮带捆住的,用皮带装饰的;身无分文的;缺钱;手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词);用皮带抽打;包扎;给…打绷带 | |
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22 wig | |
n.假发 | |
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23 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
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24 exterior | |
adj.外部的,外在的;表面的 | |
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25 phoenix | |
n.凤凰,长生(不死)鸟;引申为重生 | |
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26 pealed | |
v.(使)(钟等)鸣响,(雷等)发出隆隆声( peal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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27 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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28 alley | |
n.小巷,胡同;小径,小路 | |
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29 genial | |
adj.亲切的,和蔼的,愉快的,脾气好的 | |
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30 secrecy | |
n.秘密,保密,隐蔽 | |
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31 sable | |
n.黑貂;adj.黑色的 | |
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32 torrent | |
n.激流,洪流;爆发,(话语等的)连发 | |
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33 perpendicularity | |
n.垂直,直立;垂直度 | |
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34 resound | |
v.回响 | |
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35 hush | |
int.嘘,别出声;n.沉默,静寂;v.使安静 | |
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36 deluging | |
v.使淹没( deluge的现在分词 );淹没;被洪水般涌来的事物所淹没;穷于应付 | |
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37 gutters | |
(路边)排水沟( gutter的名词复数 ); 阴沟; (屋顶的)天沟; 贫贱的境地 | |
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38 mimic | |
v.模仿,戏弄;n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
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39 uneven | |
adj.不平坦的,不规则的,不均匀的 | |
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40 turbid | |
adj.混浊的,泥水的,浓的 | |
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41 battered | |
adj.磨损的;v.连续猛击;磨损 | |
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42 rivulet | |
n.小溪,小河 | |
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43 spouting | |
n.水落管系统v.(指液体)喷出( spout的现在分词 );滔滔不绝地讲;喋喋不休地说;喷水 | |
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44 fowl | |
n.家禽,鸡,禽肉 | |
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45 unprecedented | |
adj.无前例的,新奇的 | |
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46 civilians | |
平民,百姓( civilian的名词复数 ); 老百姓 | |
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47 snug | |
adj.温暖舒适的,合身的,安全的;v.使整洁干净,舒适地依靠,紧贴;n.(英)酒吧里的私房 | |
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48 glided | |
v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
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49 leisurely | |
adj.悠闲的;从容的,慢慢的 | |
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50 salmon | |
n.鲑,大马哈鱼,橙红色的 | |
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51 reassured | |
adj.使消除疑虑的;使放心的v.再保证,恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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52 edifice | |
n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿,教室) | |
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53 sinister | |
adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
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54 grizzly | |
adj.略为灰色的,呈灰色的;n.灰色大熊 | |
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55 aisle | |
n.(教堂、教室、戏院等里的)过道,通道 | |
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56 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
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57 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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58 lesser | |
adj.次要的,较小的;adv.较小地,较少地 | |
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59 functionaries | |
n.公职人员,官员( functionary的名词复数 ) | |
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60 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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61 reverence | |
n.敬畏,尊敬,尊严;Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称;v.尊敬,敬畏,崇敬 | |
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62 rheumatism | |
n.风湿病 | |
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63 hip | |
n.臀部,髋;屋脊 | |
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64 averred | |
v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 );证实;证明…属实;作为事实提出 | |
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65 vault | |
n.拱形圆顶,地窖,地下室 | |
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66 coffin | |
n.棺材,灵柩 | |
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67 rambled | |
(无目的地)漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 ); (喻)漫谈; 扯淡; 长篇大论 | |
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68 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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69 sojourn | |
v./n.旅居,寄居;逗留 | |
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70 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
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71 rumble | |
n.隆隆声;吵嚷;v.隆隆响;低沉地说 | |
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