It was a mighty1 grand affair, this ball of the Royal Irish Artillery2. General Chattesworth had arrived that morning, just in time to preside over the hospitalities — he could not contribute much to the dancing — and his advent3, still a little lame4, but looking, as his friends told him, ten years younger for his snug5 little fit of the gout at Buxton, reinstated Aunt Becky in her place of power, to the secret disappointment of Madame Strafford, who had set her heart on doing the honours, and rehearsed for weeks, over her toilet, and even in bed, her little speeches, airs, and graces.
Lord Castlemallard was there, of course — and the gay and splendid Lady Moira — whom I mention because General Chattesworth opened the ball in a minuet with her ladyship — hobbling with wonderful grace, and beaming with great ceremonious smiles through his honourable6 martyrdom. But there were more than a score of peers there beside, with their peeresses in tall feathers, diamonds, and monstrous7 hoops8. And the lord lieutenant9 was very near coming — and a lord lieutenant in those days, with a parliament to open, and all the regalia of his office about him, was a far greater personage than, in our democratic age, the sovereign in person.
Captain Cluffe had gone down in a chair to Puddock’s lodgings10, to borrow a pair of magnificent knee-buckles11. Puddock had a second pair, and Cluffe’s own had not, he thought, quite recovered their good looks since that confounded ducking on the night of the serenade. The gallant12 captain, learning that Puddock and Devereux intended walking — it was only a step across to the barrack-yard — and finding that Puddock could not at the moment lay his hand upon the buckles, and not wishing to keep the chair longer — for he knew delay would inflame13 the fare, and did not like dispensing14 his shillings —
‘Hey! walk? I like the fancy,’ cried the gay captain, sending half-a-crown down stairs to his ‘two-legged ponies,’ as people pleasantly called them. ‘I’d rather walk with you than jog along in a chair by myself, my gay fellows, any day.’
Most young fellows of spirit, at the eve of a ball, have their heads pretty full. There is always some one bright particular star to whom, even as they look on their own handsome features in the mirror, their adoration15 is paid.
Puddock’s shoe-buckles flashed for Gertrude Chattesworth, as he turned out his toes. For her his cravat16 received its last careless touch — his ruffles17 shook themselves, and fell in rich elegance18 about his plump little hands. For her his diamond ring gleamed like a burning star from his white little finger; and for her the last fragrance19 was thrown over his pocket-handkerchief, and the last ogle20 thrown upon his looking-glass. All the interest of his elaborate toilet — the whole solemn process and detail — was but a worship of his divinity, at which he officiated. Much in the same way was Cluffe affected21 over his bedizenment in relation to his own lady-love; but in a calmer and more long-headed fashion. Devereux’s toilet most of the young fellows held to be perfection; yet it seemed to trouble him less than all the rest. I believe it was the elegant and slender shape that would have set off anything, and that gave to his handsome costume and ‘properties’ an undefinable grace not their own. Indeed, as he leaned his elbow upon the window sash, looking carelessly across the river, he did not seem much to care what became of the labours of his toilet.
‘I have not seen her since I came; and now I’m going to this stupid ball on the chance of meeting her there. And she’ll not come — she avoids me — the chance of meeting her — and she’ll not come. Well! if she be not kind to me, what care I for whom she be? And what great matter, after all, if she were there. She’d be, I suppose, on her high horse — and — and ’tis not a feather to me. Let her take her own way. What care I? If she’s happy, why shouldn’t I— why shouldn’t I?’
Five minutes after:—
‘Who the plague are these fellows in the Phoenix22? How the brutes23 howl over their liquor!’ said Devereux, as he and Puddock, at the door-steps, awaited Cluffe, who was fixing his buckles in the drawing-room.
‘The Corporation of Tailors,’ answered Puddock, a little loftily, for he was not inwardly pleased that the precincts of the ‘Phoenix’ should be profaned24 by their mechanical orgies.
Through the open bow window of the great oak parlour of the inn was heard the mighty voice of the president, who was now in the thick of his political toasts.
‘Odds bud!’ lisped little Puddock, ‘what a stentorian25 voice!’
‘Considering it issues from a tailor!’ acquiesced26 Devereux, who thought he recognised the accents, and hated tailors, who plagued him with long bills and dangerous menaces.
‘May the friends of the Marquis of Kildare be ever blessed with the tailor’s thimble,’ declaimed the portentous27 toast master. ‘May the needle of distress28 be ever pointed29 at all mock patriots30; and a hot needle and a burning thread to all sewers31 of sedition32!’ and then came an applauding roar.
‘And may you ride into town on your own goose, with a hot needle behind you, you roaring pigmy!’ added Devereux.
‘The Irish cooks that can’t relish33 French sauce!’ enunciated34 the same grand voice, that floated, mellowed35, over the field.
‘Sauce, indeed!’ said Puddock, with an indignant lisp, as Cluffe, having joined them, they set forward together; ‘I saw some of them going in, Sir, and to look at their vulgar, unthinking countenances37, you’d say they had not capacity to distinguish between the taste of a quail38 and a goose; but, by Jove! Sir, they have a dinner. You’re a politician, Cluffe, and read the papers. You remember the bill of fare — don’t you?— at the Lord Mayor’s entertainment in London.’
Cluffe, whose mind was full of other matters, nodded his head with a grunt39.
‘Well, I’ll take my oath,’ pursued Puddock, ‘you couldn’t have made a better dinner at the Prince of Travendahl’s table. Spanish olea, if you please — ragou royal, cardoons, tendrons, shellfish in marinade, ruffs and rees, wheat-ears, green morels, fat livers, combs and notts. ’Tis rather odd, Sir, to us who employ them, to learn that our tailors, while we’re eating the dinners we do — our tailors, Sir, are absolutely gorging40 themselves with such things — with our money, by Jove!’
‘Yours, Puddock, not mine,’ said Devereux. ‘I haven’t paid a tailor these six years. But, hang it, let’s get on.’
So, in they walked by the barrack-yard, lighted up now with a splendid red blaze of torches, and with different emotions, entered the already crowded ball-room.
Devereux looked round the room, among nodding plumes41 and flashing brilliants, and smirking42 old bucks43, and simpering young ones, amidst the buzz of two or three hundred voices, and the thunder and braying44 of the band. There were scores of pretty faces there — blondes and brunettes — blue eyes and brown — and more spirit and animation45, and, I think, more grace too, in dance and talk, than the phlegmatic46 affectation of modern days allows; and there were some bright eyes that, not seeming to look, yet recognised, with a little thrill at the heart, and a brighter flush, the brilliant, proud Devereux — so handsome, so impulsive47, so unfathomable — with his gipsy tint48, and great enthusiastic eyes, and strange melancholy49, sub-acid smile. But to him the room was lifeless, and the hour was dull, and the music but a noise and a jingle50.
‘I knew quite well she wasn’t here, and she never cared for me, and I— why should I trouble my head about her? She makes her cold an excuse. Well, maybe yet she’ll wish to see Dick Devereux, and I far away. No matter. They’ve heard slanders52 of me, and believe them. Amen, say I. If they’re so light of faith, and false in friendship to cast me off for a foul53 word or an idle story — curse it — I’m well rid of that false and foolish friendship, and can repay their coldness and aversion with a light heart, a bow, and a smile. One slander51 I’ll refute — yes — and that done, I’ll close this idle episode in my cursed epic54, and never, never think of her again.’
But fancy will not be controlled by resolutions, though ne’er so wise and strong, and precisely55 as the captain vowed56 ‘never’— away glided57 that wild, sad sprite across the moonlit river, and among the old black elms, and stood unbidden beside Lilias. Little Lily, as they used to call her five years ago; and Devereux, who seemed to look so intently and so strangely on the flash and whirl of the dancers, saw but an old fashioned drawing-room, with roses clustering by the windows, and heard the sweet rich voice, to him the music of Ariel, like a far-off dirge58 — a farewell — sometimes a forgiveness — and sometimes the old pleasant talk and merry little laugh, all old remembrances or vain dreams now.
But Devereux had business on his hands that night, and about eleven o’clock he had disappeared. ’Twas easy to go and come in such a crowd, and no one perceive it.
But Puddock was very happy and excited. Mervyn, whom he had once feared, was there, a mere59 spectator, however, to witness that night’s signal triumph. He had never danced so much with Miss Gertrude before, that is to say, at a great ball like this at which there was a plenty of bucks with good blood and lots of money; and indeed, it seemed to favour the idea of his success that Aunt Rebecca acknowledged him only with a silent and by no means gracious courtesy.
She was talking to Toole about Lilias, and saying how much better she had looked that evening.
‘She’s not better, Ma’am; I’d rather she hadn’t the bright flush you speak of, there’s something, you see, not quite right in that left lung, and that bright tint, Madam, is hectic60 — she’s not better, Madam, not that we don’t hope to see her so — Heaven forbid — but ’tis an anxious case;’ and Toole shook his head gravely.
When Aunt Becky was getting on her hood61 and mantle62, she invariably fell into talk with some crony who had a story to tell, or a point to discuss. So as she stood listening to old Colonel Bligh’s hard, reedy gabble, and popping in her decisive word now and then, Gertrude, equipped for the night air, and with little Puddock for her escort, glided out and took her place in the great state coach of the Chattesworths, and the door being shut, she made a little nod and a faint smile to her true knight63, and said with the slightest possible shrug64 —
‘How cold it is to-night; my aunt, I think, will be obliged for your assistance, Lieutenant Puddock; as for me, I must shut up my window and wish you good-night.’
And with another smile she accordingly shut up the window, and when his best bow was accomplished65, she leaned back with a pale and stricken countenance36, and a great sigh — such a one as caused Lady Macbeth’s physician, long ago, to whisper, ‘What a sigh is there! the heart is sorely charged.’ The footmen were standing66 by the open door, through which Aunt Becky was to come, and there were half a dozen carriages crowded side by side, the lackeys67 being congregated68, with links lighted, about the same place of exit; and things being so, there came a small sharp tapping at the far window of the carriage, and with a start Gertrude saw the identical mantle, and the three-cocked-hat with the peculiar69 corners, which had caused certain observers so much speculation70 on another night, and drawing close to the window, whereat this apparition71 presented itself, she let it down.
‘I know, beloved Gertrude, what you would say,’ he softly said; ‘but be it frenzy72 or no, I cannot forbear; I am unalterable — be you the same.’
A white, slender hand glided in and seized hers, not resisting.
‘Yes, Mordaunt, the same; but, oh! how miserable73!’ said Gertrude, and with just the slightest movement in the fingers of her small hand, hardly perceptible, and yet how fond a caress74!
‘I’m like a man who has lost his way among the catacombs — among the dead,’ whispered this muffled75 figure, close to the window, still fervently76 holding her hand, ‘and sees at last the distant gleam that shows him that his wanderings are to end. Yes, Gertrude, my beloved — yes, Gertrude, idol77 of my solitary78 love — the mystery is about to end — I’ll end it. Be I what I may you know the worst, and have given me your love and troth — you are my affianced bride; rather than lose you, I would die; and I think, or I am walking in a dream, I’ve but to point my finger against two men, and all will be peace and light — light and peace — to me long strangers!’
At this moment Aunt Becky’s voice was heard at the door, and the flash of the flambeaux glared on the window. He kissed the hand of the pale girl hurriedly, and the French cocked-hat and mantle vanished.
In came Aunt Rebecca in a fuss, and it must be said in no very gracious mood, and rather taciturn and sarcastic79; and so away they rumbled80 over the old bridge towards Belmont.
收听单词发音 |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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snug
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| 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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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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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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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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buckles
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| 搭扣，扣环( buckle的名词复数 ) | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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inflame
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| v.使燃烧；使极度激动；使发炎 | |
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dispensing
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| v.分配( dispense的现在分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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ruffles
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| 褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
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elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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ogle
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| v.看；送秋波；n.秋波，媚眼 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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phoenix
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| n.凤凰，长生(不死)鸟；引申为重生 | |
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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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profaned
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| v.不敬( profane的过去式和过去分词 )；亵渎，玷污 | |
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stentorian
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| adj.大声的，响亮的 | |
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acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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patriots
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| 爱国者，爱国主义者( patriot的名词复数 ) | |
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sewers
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| n.阴沟，污水管，下水道( sewer的名词复数 ) | |
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sedition
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| n.煽动叛乱 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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enunciated
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| v.（清晰地）发音( enunciate的过去式和过去分词 )；确切地说明 | |
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mellowed
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| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
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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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countenances
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| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
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quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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gorging
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| v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的现在分词 )；作呕 | |
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plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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smirking
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| v.傻笑( smirk的现在分词 ) | |
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bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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44
braying
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| v.发出驴叫似的声音( bray的现在分词 )；发嘟嘟声；粗声粗气地讲话（或大笑）；猛击 | |
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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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phlegmatic
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| adj.冷静的，冷淡的，冷漠的，无活力的 | |
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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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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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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jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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slander
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| n./v.诽谤，污蔑 | |
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slanders
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| 诽谤，诋毁( slander的名词复数 ) | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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epic
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| n.史诗，叙事诗；adj.史诗般的，壮丽的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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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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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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dirge
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| n.哀乐，挽歌，庄重悲哀的乐曲 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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hectic
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| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
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61
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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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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lackeys
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| n.听差( lackey的名词复数 )；男仆（通常穿制服）；卑躬屈膝的人；被待为奴仆的人 | |
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congregated
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| （使）集合，聚集( congregate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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72
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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73
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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74
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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75
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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76
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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77
idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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78
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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79
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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80
rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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