I lay often that summer on a slope of sand and coarse grass, close to the Cornish sea, trying to catch thoughts; and I was trying very hard when I saw them coming hand in hand.
She was dressed in blue linen2, and a little cloud of honey-coloured hair; her small face had serious eyes the colour of the chicory flowers she was holding up to sniff3 at — a clean sober little maid, with a very touching4 upward look of trust. Her companion was a strong, active boy of perhaps fourteen, and he, too, was serious — his deep-set, blacklashed eyes looked down at her with a queer protective wonder; the while he explained in a soft voice broken up between two ages, that exact process which bees adopt to draw honey out of flowers. Once or twice this hoarse5 but charming voice became quite fervent6, when she had evidently failed to follow; it was as if he would have been impatient, only he knew he must not, because she was a lady and younger than himself, and he loved her.
They sat down just below my nook, and began to count the petals7 of a chicory flower, and slowly she nestled in to him, and he put his arm round her. Never did I see such sedate8, sweet lovering, so trusting on her part, so guardianlike on his. They were like, in miniature —-though more dewy,— those sober couples who have long lived together, yet whom one still catches looking at each other with confidential9 tenderness, and in whom, one feels, passion is atrophied10 from never having been in use.
Long I sat watching them in their cool communion, half-embraced, talking a little, smiling a little, never once kissing. They did not seem shy of that; it was rather as if they were too much each other’s to think of such a thing. And then her head slid lower and lower down his shoulder, and sleep buttoned the lids over those chicory-blue eyes. How careful he was, then, not to wake her, though I could see his arm was getting stiff! He still sat, good as gold, holding her, till it began quite to hurt me to see his shoulder thus in chancery. But presently I saw him draw his arm away ever so carefully, lay her head down on the grass, and lean forward to stare at something. Straight in front of them was a magpie, balancing itself on a stripped twig11 of thorn-tree. The agitating12 bird, painted of night and day, was making a queer noise and flirting13 one wing, as if trying to attract attention. Rising from the twig, it circled, vivid and stealthy, twice round the tree, and flew to another a dozen paces off. The boy rose; he looked at his little mate, looked at the bird, and began quietly to move toward it; but uttering again its queer call, the bird glided14 on to a third thorn-tree. The boy hesitated then — but once more the bird flew on, and suddenly dipped over the hill. I saw the boy break into a run; and getting up quickly, I ran too.
When I reached the crest15 there was the black and white bird flying low into a dell, and there the boy, with hair streaming back, was rushing helter-skelter down the hill. He reached the bottom and vanished into the dell. I, too, ran down the hill. For all that I was prying16 and must not be seen by bird or boy, I crept warily17 in among the trees to the edge of a pool that could know but little sunlight, so thickly arched was it by willows18, birch-trees, and wild hazel. There, in a swing of boughs19 above the water, was perched no pied bird, but a young, dark-haired girl with, dangling20, bare, brown legs. And on the brink21 of the black water goldened, with fallen leaves, the boy was crouching22, gazing up at her with all his soul. She swung just out of reach and looked down at him across the pool. How old was she, with her brown limbs, and her gleaming, slanting23 eyes? Or was she only the spirit of the dell, this elf-thing swinging there, entwined with boughs and the dark water, and covered with a shift of wet birch leaves. So strange a face she had, wild, almost wicked, yet so tender; a face that I could not take my eyes from. Her bare toes just touched the pool, and flicked24 up drops of water that fell on the boy’s face.
From him all the sober steadfastness25 was gone; already he looked as wild as she, and his arms were stretched out trying to reach her feet. I wanted to cry to him: “Go back, boy, go back!” but could not; her elf eyes held me dumb-they looked so lost in their tender wildness.
And then my heart stood still, for he had slipped and was struggling in deep water beneath her feet. What a gaze was that he was turning up to her — not frightened, but so longing26, so desperate; and hers how triumphant27, and how happy!
And then he clutched her foot, and clung, and climbed; and bending down, she drew him up to her, all wet, and clasped him in the swing of boughs.
I took a long breath then. An orange gleam of sunlight had flamed in among the shadows and fell round those two where they swung over the dark water, with lips close together and spirits lost in one another’s, and in their eyes such drowning ecstasy28! And then they kissed! All round me pool, and leaves, and air seemed suddenly to swirl29 and melt — I could see nothing plain! . . . What time passed — I do not know — before their faces slowly again became visible! His face the sober boy’s — was turned away from her, and he was listening; for above the whispering of leaves a sound of weeping came from over the hill. It was to that he listened.
And even as I looked he slid down from out of her arms; back into the pool, and began struggling to gain the edge. What grief and longing in her wild face then! But she did not wail30. She did not try to pull him back; that elfish heart of dignity could reach out to what was coming, it could not drag at what was gone. Unmoving as the boughs and water, she watched him abandon her.
Slowly the struggling boy gained land, and lay there, breathless. And still that sound of lonely weeping came from over the hill.
Listening, but looking at those wild, mourning eyes that never moved from him, he lay. Once he turned back toward the water, but fire had died within him; his hands dropped, nerveless — his young face was all bewilderment.
And the quiet darkness of the pool waited, and the trees, and those lost eyes of hers, and my heart. And ever from over the hill came the little fair maiden31’s lonely weeping.
Then, slowly dragging his feet, stumbling, half-blinded, turning and turning to look back, the boy groped his way out through the trees toward that sound; and, as he went, that dark spirit-elf, abandoned, clasping her own lithe32 body with her arms, never moved her gaze from him.
I, too, crept away, and when I was safe outside in the pale evening sunlight, peered back into the dell. There under the dark trees she was no longer, but round and round that cage of passion, fluttering and wailing33 through the leaves, over the black water, was the magpie, flighting on its twilight34 wings.
I turned and ran and ran till I came over the hill and saw the boy and the little fair, sober maiden sitting together once more on the open slope, under the high blue heaven. She was nestling her tear-stained face against his shoulder and speaking already of indifferent things. And he — he was holding her with his arm and watching over her with eyes that seemed to see something else.
And so I lay, hearing their sober talk and gazing at their sober little figures, till I awoke and knew I had dreamed all that little allegory of sacred and profane35 love, and from it had returned to reason, knowing no more than ever which was which.
1912.
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1
magpie
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| n.喜欢收藏物品的人，喜鹊，饶舌者 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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4
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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8
sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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9
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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atrophied
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| adj.萎缩的，衰退的v.（使）萎缩，（使）虚脱，（使）衰退( atrophy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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11
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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12
agitating
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| 搅动( agitate的现在分词 )； 激怒； 使焦虑不安； （尤指为法律、社会状况的改变而）激烈争论 | |
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flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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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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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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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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warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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24
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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steadfastness
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| n.坚定，稳当 | |
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26
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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29
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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30
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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31
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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32
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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33
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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34
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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