During the progress to the city Theodora never spoke5, but she seemed stunned6 rather than suffering; and once, when Lothair, who was walking by her side, caught her glance with his sorrowful and anxious face, she put forth7 her head, and pressed his.
The ascent to the convent was easy, and the advantages of air and comparative tranquillity8 which the place offered counterbalanced the risk of postponing9, for a very brief space, the examination of the wound.
They laid her on their arrival on a large bed, without poles or canopy10, in a lofty whitewashed11 room of considerable dimensions, clean and airy, with high, open windows. There was no furniture in the room except a chair, a table, and a crucifix. Lothair took her in his arms and laid her on the bed; and the common soldier who had hitherto assisted him, a giant in stature12, with a beard a foot long, stood by the bedside crying like a child. The chief surgeon almost at the same moment arrived with an aide-decamp of the general, and her faithful female attendant, and in a few minutes her husband, himself wounded and covered with dust.
The surgeon at once requested that all should withdraw except her devoted13 maid, and they waited his report without, in that deep sad silence which will not despair, and yet dares not hope.
When the wound had been examined and probed and dressed, Theodora in a faint voice said, “Is it desperate?”
“Not desperate,” said the surgeon, “but serious. All depends upon your perfect tranquility—of mind as well as body.”
“Well I am here and cannot move; and as for my mind, I am not only serene14, but happy.”
“Then we shall get through this,” said the surgeon, encouragingly.
“I do not like you to stay with me,” said Theodora. “There are other sufferers besides myself.”
“My orders are not to quit you,” said the surgeon, “but I can be of great use within these walls. I shall return when the restorative has had its effect. But remember, if I be wanted, I am always here.”
Soon after this Theodora fell into a gentle slumber15, and after two hours woke refreshed. The countenance16 of the surgeon when he again visited her was less troubled; it was hopeful.
The day was now beginning to decline; notwithstanding the scenes of tumult17 and violence near at hand, all was here silent; and the breeze, which had been strong during the whole day, but which blew from the sea, and was very soft, played gratefully upon the pale countenance of the sufferer. Suddenly she said, “What is that?”
And they answered and said, “We heard nothing.”
“I hear the sound of great guns,” said Theodora.
And they listened, and in a moment both the surgeon and the maid heard the sound of distant ordnance18.
“The liberator19 is at hand,” said the maid.
“I dare say,” said the surgeon.
“No,” said Theodora, looking distressed20. “The sounds do not come from his direction. Go and see, Dolores; ask, and tell me what are these sounds.”
The surgeon was sitting by her side, and occasionally touching21 her pulse, or wiping the slight foam22 from her brow, when Dolores returned and said, “Lady, the sounds are the great guns of Civita Vecchia.”
A deadly change come over the countenance of Theodora, and the surgeon looked alarmed. He would have given her some restorative, but she refused it. “No, kind friend,” she said; “it is finished. I have just received a wound more fatal than the shot in the field this morning. The French are at Rome. Tell me, kind friend, how long do you think I may live?”
The surgeon felt her pulse; his look was gloomy. “In such a case as yours,” he said, “the patient is the best judge.”
“I understand,” she said. “Send, then, at once for my husband.”
He was at hand, for his wound had been dressed in the convent, and he came to Theodora with his arm in a sling23, but with the attempt of a cheerful visage.
In the mean time, Lothair, after having heard the first, and by no means hopeless, bulletin of the surgeon, had been obliged to leave the convent to look after his men, and having seen theme in quarters and made his report to the general, he obtained permission to return to the convent and ascertain24 the condition of Theodora. Arrived there, he heard that she had had refreshing25 slumber, and that her husband was now with her, and a ray of hope lighted up the darkness of his soul. He was walking up and down the refectory of the convent with that sickening restlessness which attends impending26 and yet uncertain sorrow, when Colonel Campian entered the apartment and beckoned27 to him.
There was an expression in his face which appalled28 Lothair, and he was about to inquire after Theodora, when his tongue cleaved29 to the roof of his mouth, and he could not speak. The Colonel shook his head, and said in a low, hollow voice, “She wishes to see you, and alone. Come.”
Theodora was sitting in the bed, propped30 up by cushions, when Lothair entered, and, as her wound was internal, there was no evidence of her sufferings. The distressful31 expression of her face, when she heard the great guns of Civita Vecchia, had passed away. It was serious, but it was serene. She bade her maid leave the chamber32, and then she said to Lothair, “It is the last time I shall speak to you, and I wish that we should be alone. There is something much on my mind at this moment, and you can relieve it.”
“Adored being,” murmured Lothair with streaming eyes, “there is no wish of yours that I will not fulfil.”
“I know your life, for you have told it me, and you are true. I know your nature; it is gentle and brave, but perhaps too susceptible33. I wished it to be susceptible only of the great and good. Mark me—I have a vague but strong conviction that there will be another and a more powerful attempt to gain you to the Church of Rome. If I have ever been to you, as you have sometimes said, an object of kind thoughts—if not a fortunate, at least a faithful friend—promise me now, at this hour of trial, with all the solemnity that becomes the moment, that you will never enter that communion.”
Lothair would have spoken, but his voice was choked, and he could only press her hand and bow his head.
“But promise me,” said Theodora.
“I promise,” said Lothair.
“And now,” she said, “embrace me, for I wish that your spirit should be upon me as mine departs.”
点击收听单词发音
1 stifling | |
a.令人窒息的 | |
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2 shrieks | |
n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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3 ascent | |
n.(声望或地位)提高;上升,升高;登高 | |
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4 monastery | |
n.修道院,僧院,寺院 | |
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5 spoke | |
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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6 stunned | |
adj. 震惊的,惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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7 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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8 tranquillity | |
n. 平静, 安静 | |
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9 postponing | |
v.延期,推迟( postpone的现在分词 ) | |
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10 canopy | |
n.天篷,遮篷 | |
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11 whitewashed | |
粉饰,美化,掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12 stature | |
n.(高度)水平,(高度)境界,身高,身材 | |
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13 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
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14 serene | |
adj. 安详的,宁静的,平静的 | |
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15 slumber | |
n.睡眠,沉睡状态 | |
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16 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
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17 tumult | |
n.喧哗;激动,混乱;吵闹 | |
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18 ordnance | |
n.大炮,军械 | |
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19 liberator | |
解放者 | |
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20 distressed | |
痛苦的 | |
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21 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
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22 foam | |
v./n.泡沫,起泡沫 | |
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23 sling | |
vt.扔;悬挂;n.挂带;吊索,吊兜;弹弓 | |
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24 ascertain | |
vt.发现,确定,查明,弄清 | |
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25 refreshing | |
adj.使精神振作的,使人清爽的,使人喜欢的 | |
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26 impending | |
a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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27 beckoned | |
v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28 appalled | |
v.使惊骇,使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的;丧胆的 | |
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29 cleaved | |
v.劈开,剁开,割开( cleave的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30 propped | |
支撑,支持,维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31 distressful | |
adj.苦难重重的,不幸的,使苦恼的 | |
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32 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
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33 susceptible | |
adj.过敏的,敏感的;易动感情的,易受感动的 | |
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