Early next morning Lord Castlemallard, Dangerfield, and Nutter1, rode into Chapelizod, plaguy dusty, having already made the circuit of that portion of his property which lay west of the town. They had poked2 into the new mills and the old mills, and contemplated3 the quarries4, and lime-kilns, and talked with Doyle about his holding, and walked over the two vacant farms, and I know not all besides. And away trotted5 his lordship to his breakfast in town. And Dangerfield seeing the church door open, dismounted and walked in, and Nutter did likewise.
Bob Martin was up in the gallery, I suppose, doing some good, and making a considerable knocking here and there in the pews, and walking slowly with creaking shoes. Zekiel Irons, the clerk, was down below about his business, at the communion table at the far end, lean, blue-chinned, thin-lipped, stooping over his quarto prayer books, and gliding6 about without noise, reverent8 and sinister9. When they came in, Nutter led the way to Lord Castlemallard’s pew, which brought them up pretty near to the spot where grave Mr. Irons was prowling serenely10. The pew would soon want new flooring, Mr. Dangerfield thought, and the Castlemallard arms and supporters, a rather dingy11 piece of vainglory, overhanging the main seat on the wall, would be nothing the worse of a little fresh gilding12 and paint.
‘There was a claim — eh — to one foot nine inches off the eastern end of the pew, on the part of — of the family — at Inchicore, I think they call it,’ said Dangerfield, laying his riding-whip like a rule along the top to help his imagination —‘Hey — that would spoil the pew.’
‘The claim’s settled, and Mr. Langley goes to the other side of the aisle13,’ said Nutter, nodding to Irons, who came up, and laid his long clay-coloured fingers on the top of the pew door, and one long, thin foot on the first step, and with half-closed eyes, and a half bow, he awaited their pleasure.
‘The Langley family had this pew,’ said Dangerfield, with a side nod to that next his lordship’s.
‘Yes, Sir,’ said Irons, with the same immutable14 semblance15 of a smile, and raising neither his head nor his eyes.
‘And who’s got it now?’
‘His reverence16, Dr. Walsingham.’
And so it came out, that having purchased Salmonfalls, the rector had compromised the territorial18 war that was on the point of breaking out among his parishioners, by exchanging with that old coxcomb19 Langley, the great square pew over the way, that belonged to that house, for the queer little crib in which the tenant20 of Inchicore had hitherto sat in state; and so there was peace, if not good will, in the church.
‘Hey — let’s see it,’ said Dangerfield, crossing the aisle, with Irons at his heels, for he was a man that saw everything for himself, that ever so remotely concerned him or his business.
‘We buried Lord ——’ (and the title he spoke21 very low) ‘in the vault22 here, just under where you stand, on Monday last, by night,’ said Irons, very gently and grimly, as he stood behind Dangerfield.
A faint galvanic thrill shot up through the flagging and his firmly planted foot to his brain, as though something said, ‘Ay, here I am!’
‘Oh! indeed?’ said Dangerfield, dryly, making a little nod, and raising his eyebrows23, and just moving a little a one side —’’Twas a nasty affair.’
He looked up, with his hands in his breeches’ pockets, and read a mural tablet, whistling scarce audibly the while. It was not reverent, but he was a gentleman; and the clerk standing24 behind him, retained his quiet posture25, and that smile, that yet was not a smile, but a sort of reflected light — was it patience, or was it secret ridicule26?— you could not tell: and it never changed, and somehow it was provoking.
‘And some persons, I believe, had an unpleasant duty to do there,’ said Dangerfield, abruptly27, in the middle of his tune28, and turning his spectacles fully29 and sternly on Mr. Irons.
The clerk’s head bent30 lower, and he shook it; and his eyes, but for a little glitter through the eyelashes, seemed to close.
‘’Tis a pretty church, this — a pretty town, and some good families in the neighbourhood,’ said Dangerfield, briskly; ‘and I dare say some trout31 in the river — hey?— the stream looks lively.’
‘Middling, only — poor gray troutlings, Sir — not a soul cares to fish it but myself,’ he answered.
‘You’re the clerk — eh?’
‘At your service, Sir.’
‘Dublin man?— or —’
‘Born and bred in Dublin, your honour.’
‘Ay — well! Irons — you’ve heard of Mr. Dangerfield — Lord Castlemallard’s agent — I am he. Good-morning, Irons;’ and he gave him half-a-crown, and he took another look round; and then he and Nutter went out of the church, and took a hasty leave of one another, and away went Nutter on his nag32, to the mills. And Dangerfield, just before mounting, popped into Cleary’s shop, and in his grim, laconic33 way, asked the proprietor34, among his meal-bags and bacon, about fifty questions in less than five minutes. ‘That was one of Lord Castlemallard’s houses — eh — with the bad roof, and manure-heap round the corner?’— and, ‘Where’s the pot-house they call the Salmon17 House?— doing a good business — eh?’ and at last —‘I’m told there’s some trout in the stream. Is there anyone in the town who knows the river, and could show me the fishing?— Oh, the clerk! and what sort of fish is he — hey?— Oh! an honest, worthy35 man, is he? Very good, Sir. Then, perhaps, Mr. a — perhaps, Sir, you’ll do me the favour to let one of your people run down to his house, and say Mr. Dangerfield, Lord Castlemallard’s agent, who is staying, you know, at the Brass36 Castle, would be much obliged if he would bring his rod and tackle, and take a walk with him up the river, for a little angling, at ten o’clock!’
Jolly Phil Cleary was deferential37, and almost nervous in his presence. The silver-haired, grim man, with his mysterious reputation for money, and that short decisive way of his, and sudden cynical38 chuckle39, inspired a sort of awe40, which made his wishes, where expressed with that intent, very generally obeyed; and, sure enough, Irons appeared, with his rod, at the appointed hour, and the interesting anglers — Piscator and his ‘honest scholar,’ as Isaac Walton hath it — set out side by side on their ramble42, in the true fraternity of the gentle craft.
The clerk had, I’m afraid, a shrew of a wife — shrill43, vehement44, and fluent. ‘Rogue,’ ‘old miser,’ ‘old sneak45,’ and a great many worse names, she called him. Good Mrs. Irons was old, fat, and ugly, and she knew it; and that knowledge made her natural jealousy46 the fiercer. He had learned, by long experience, the best tactique under fire: he became actually taciturn; or, if he spoke, his speech was laconic and enigmatical; sometimes throwing out a proverb, and sometimes a text; and sometimes when provoked past endurance, spouting47 mildly a little bit of meek48 and venomous irony49.
He loved his trout-rod and the devious50 banks of the Liffey, where, saturnine51 and alone, he filled his basket. It was his helpmate’s rule, whenever she did not know to a certainty precisely52 what Irons was doing, to take it for granted that he was about some mischief54. Her lodger55, Captain Devereux, was her great resource on these occasions, and few things pleased him better than a stormy visit from his hostess in this temper. The young scapegrace would close his novel, and set down his glass of sherry and water (it sometimes smelt56 very like brandy, I’m afraid). To hear her rant53, one would have supposed, who had not seen him, that her lank57-haired, grimly partner, was the prettiest youth in the county of Dublin, and that all the comely58 lasses in Chapelizod and the country round were sighing and setting caps at him; and Devereux, who had a vein59 of satire60, and loved even farce61, enjoyed the heroics of the fat old slut.
‘Oh! what am I to do, captain, jewel?’ she bounced into the room, with flaming face and eyes swelled62, and the end of her apron63, with which she had been swobbing them, in her hand, while she gesticulated, with her right; ‘there, he’s off again to Island Bridge,— the owdacious sneak! It’s all that dirty hussy’s doing. I’m not such a fool, but I know how to put this and that together, though he thinks I don’t know of his doings; but I’ll be even with you, Meg Partlet, yet — you trollop;’ and all this was delivered in renewed floods of tears, and stentorian64 hysterics, while she shook her fat red fist in the air, at the presumed level of Meg’s beautiful features.
‘Nay, Madam,’ said the gay captain; ‘I prithee, weep not; the like discoveries, as you have read, have been made in Rome, Salamanca, Ballyporeen, Babylon, Venice, and fifty other famous cities.’ He always felt in these interviews, as if she and he were extemporising a burlesque65 — she the Queen of Crim Tartary, and he an Archbishop in her court — and would have spoken blank verse, only he feared she might perceive it, and break up the conference.
‘And what’s that to the purpose?— don’t I know they’re the same all over the world — nothing but brutes66 and barbarians67.’
‘But suppose, Madam, he has only gone up the river, and just taken his rod ——’
‘Oh! rod, indeed. I know where he wants a rod, the rascal68!’
‘I tell you, Madam,’ urged the chaplain, ‘you’re quite in the wrong. You’ve discovered after twenty years’ wedlock69 that your husband’s — a man! and you’re vexed70: would you have him anything else?’
‘You’re all in a story,’ she blubbered maniacally71; ‘there’s no justice, nor feeling, nor succour for a poor abused woman; but I’ll do it — I will. I’ll go to his reverence — don’t try to persuade me — the Rev7. Hugh Walsingham, Doctor of Divinity, and Rector of Chapelizod (she used to give him at full length whenever she threatened Zekiel with a visitation from that quarter, by way of adding ponderosity72 to the menace)— I’ll go to him straight — don’t think to stop me — and we’ll see what he’ll say;’ and so she addressed herself to go.
‘And when you see him, Madam, ask the learned doctor — don’t ask me — believe the rector of the parish — he’ll tell you, that it hath prevailed from the period at which Madam Sarah quarrelled with saucy73 Miss Hagar; that it hath prevailed among all the principal nations of antiquity74, according to Pliny, Strabo, and the chief writers of antiquity; that Juno, Dido, Eleanor Queen of England, and Mrs. Partridge, whom I read of here (and he pointed41 to the open volume of Tom Jones), each made, or thought she made, a like discovery.’ And the captain delivered this slowly, with knitted brow and thoughtful face, after the manner of the erudite and simple doctor.
‘Pretty Partridges, indeed! and nice game for a parish clerk!’ cried the lady, returning. ‘I wonder, so I do, when I look at him, and think of his goings on, how he can have the assurance to sit under the minister, and look the congregation in the face, and tune his throat, and sing the blessed psalms75.’
‘You are not to wonder, Madam; believe the sage76, who says, omnibus hoc vitium est cantoribus.’
Devereux knew of old that the effect of Latin on Mrs. Irons was to heighten the inflammation, and so the matron burst into whole chapters of crimination, enlivened with a sprinkling of strong words, as the sages77 of the law love to pepper their indictments78 and informations with hot adverbs and well-spiced parentheses79, ‘falsely,’ ‘scandalously,’ ‘maliciously,’ and suadente diabolo, to make them sit warm on the stomachs of a loyal judge and jury, and digest easily.
The neighbours were so accustomed to Mrs. Irons’ griefs, that when her voice was audible, as upon such occasions it was, upon the high road and in the back gardens, it produced next to no sensation; everybody had heard from that loud oracle80 every sort of story touching81 Irons which could well be imagined, and it was all so thoroughly82 published by the good lady, that curiosity on the subject was pretty well dead and gone, and her distant declamation83 rattled84 over their heads and boomed in their ears, like the distant guns and trumpets85 on a review day, signifying nothing.
And all this only shows what every man who has ruralised a little in his lifetime knows, more than in theory, that the golden age lingers in no corner of the earth, but is really quite gone and over everywhere, and that peace and prisca fides have not fled to the nooks and shadows of deep valleys and bowery brooks86, but flown once, and away to heaven again, and left the round world to its general curse. So it is even in pretty old villages, embowered in orchards87, with hollyhocks and jessamine in front of the houses, and primeval cocks and hens pecking and scraping in the street, and the modest river dimpling and simpering among osiers and apple trees, and old ivied walls close by — you sometimes hear other things than lowing herds88, and small birds singing, and purling streams; and shrill accents and voluble rhetoric89 will now and then trouble the fragrant90 air, and wake up the dim old river-god from his nap.
As to Irons, if he was all that his wife gave out, he must have been a mighty91 sly dog indeed; for on the whole, he presented a tolerably decent exterior92 to society. It is said, indeed, that he liked a grave tumbler of punch, and was sardonic93 and silent in his liquor; that his gait was occasionally a little queer and uncertain, as his lank figure glided94 home by moonlight, from the ‘Salmon House;’ and that his fingers fumbled95 longer than need be with the latch96, and his tongue, though it tried but a short and grim ‘bar’th door, Marjry,’ or ‘gi’ me can’le, wench,’ sometimes lacked its cunning, and slipped and kept not time. There were, too, other scandals, such as the prying97 and profane98 love to shoot privily99 at church celebrities100. Perhaps it was his reserve and sanctity that provoked them. Perhaps he was, in truth, though cautious, sometimes indiscreet. Perhaps it was fanciful Mrs. Irons’ jealous hullabaloos and hysterics that did it — I don’t know — but people have been observed, apropos101 of him, to wink102 at one another, and grin, and shake their heads, and say: ‘the nearer the church, you know’— and ‘he so ancient, too! but ’tis an old rat that won’t eat cheese,’ and so forth103.
Just as Mrs. Irons whisked round for the seventh time to start upon her long threatened march to Dr. Walsingham’s study to lay her pitiful case before him, Captain Devereux, who was looking toward the ‘Phoenix,’ saw the truant104 clerk and Mr. Dangerfield turn the corner together on their return.
‘Stay, Madam, here comes the traitor,’ said he; ‘and, on my honour, ’tis worse than we thought; for he has led my Lord Castlemallard’s old agent into mischief too — and Meg Partlet has had two swains at her feet this morning; and, see, the hypocrites have got some trout in their basket, and their rods on their shoulders — and look, for all the world, as if they had only been fishing — sly rogues105!’
‘Well, it’s all one,’ said Mrs. Irons, gaping106 from the other window, and sobering rapidly; ‘if ‘tisn’t today, ’twill be tomorrow, I suppose; and at any rate ’tis a sin and shame to leave any poor crature in this miserable107 taking, not knowing but he might be drownded — or worse — dear knows it would not be much trouble to tell his wife when the gentleman wanted him — and sure for any honest matter I’d never say against it.’
Her thoughts were running upon Dangerfield, and what ‘compliment’ he had probably made her husband at parting; and a minute or two after this, Devereux saw her, with her riding-hood on, trudging108 up to the “Salmon House” to make inquisition after the same.
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nutter
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| n.疯子 | |
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poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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quarries
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| n.（采）石场( quarry的名词复数 )；猎物（指鸟，兽等）；方形石；（格窗等的）方形玻璃v.从采石场采得( quarry的第三人称单数 )；从（书本等中）努力发掘（资料等）；在采石场采石 | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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reverent
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| adj.恭敬的，虔诚的 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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gilding
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| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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immutable
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| adj.不可改变的，永恒的 | |
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semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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reverence
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| 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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salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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territorial
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| adj.领土的，领地的 | |
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coxcomb
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| n.花花公子 | |
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tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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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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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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abruptly
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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laconic
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| adj.简洁的；精练的 | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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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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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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deferential
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| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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ramble
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| v.漫步，漫谈，漫游；n.漫步，闲谈，蔓延 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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45
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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spouting
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| 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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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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saturnine
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| adj.忧郁的，沉默寡言的，阴沉的，感染铅毒的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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rant
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| v.咆哮；怒吼；n.大话；粗野的话 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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lodger
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| n.寄宿人，房客 | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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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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satire
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| n.讽刺，讽刺文学，讽刺作品 | |
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farce
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| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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63
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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64
stentorian
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| adj.大声的，响亮的 | |
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65
burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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66
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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67
barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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68
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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69
wedlock
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| n.婚姻，已婚状态 | |
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70
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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71
maniacally
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72
ponderosity
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| n.沉重，笨重；有质性；可称性 | |
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73
saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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75
psalms
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| n.赞美诗( psalm的名词复数 )；圣诗；圣歌；(中的) | |
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76
sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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77
sages
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| n.圣人( sage的名词复数 )；智者；哲人；鼠尾草（可用作调料） | |
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78
indictments
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| n.（制度、社会等的）衰败迹象( indictment的名词复数 )；刑事起诉书；公诉书；控告 | |
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79
parentheses
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| n.圆括号，插入语，插曲（ parenthesis的名词复数 ） | |
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80
oracle
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| n.神谕，神谕处，预言 | |
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81
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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82
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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declamation
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| n. 雄辩，高调 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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85
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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86
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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87
orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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88
herds
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| 兽群( herd的名词复数 )； 牧群； 人群； 群众 | |
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rhetoric
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| n.修辞学，浮夸之言语 | |
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90
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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glided
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| 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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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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98
profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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privily
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| adv.暗中，秘密地 | |
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100
celebrities
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| n.（尤指娱乐界的）名人( celebrity的名词复数 )；名流；名声；名誉 | |
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101
apropos
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| adv.恰好地；adj.恰当的；关于 | |
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102
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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103
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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104
truant
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| n.懒惰鬼，旷课者；adj.偷懒的，旷课的，游荡的；v.偷懒，旷课 | |
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105
rogues
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| n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 )；无赖；调皮捣蛋的人；离群的野兽 | |
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106
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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107
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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108
trudging
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的现在分词形式） | |
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