“Well, boys, I dare say you have often wondered what could have brought me here. Perhaps (which, come to think of it, is more likely) you haven’t troubled your heads about me at all, although even the meanest of us like to think that we fill some corner in our fellow’s mind. But if you have wondered, it could not be considered surprising. For I’m a landsman if ever there was one, a farmer, who, after even336 such a drilling as I’ve gone through this voyage, still feels, and doubtless looks, as awkward on board as any cow. My story is not a very long one, perhaps hardly worth the telling to anybody but myself, but it will be a change from whaling ‘shop’ anyhow, so here goes.
“My father owned a big farm in the old Green Mountain state, on which I grew up, an only son, but never unduly9 pampered10 or spoiled by the good old man. No; both he and mother, though fond of me as it was possible to be, strove to do me justice by training me up and not allowing me to sprout11 anyhow like a jimpson weed to do as I darn pleased with myself when and how I liked. They were careful to keep me out of temptation too, as far as they were able, which wasn’t so difficult, seeing our nearest neighbour was five miles away, and never a drop of liquor stronger than cider ever came within a day’s journey of home. So I suppose I passed as a pretty good boy; at least there were no complaints.
“One day, when I was about fifteen years old, father drove into the village some ten miles off on business, and when he came back he had a little golden-haired girl with him about twelve years old. A pale, old-fashioned little slip she was, as staid as a grandmother, and dressed in deep black. When I opened the gate for the waggon12, father said, ‘This is your cousin Cicely, Abner, she’s an orphan13, an’ I cal’late to raise her.’ That was all our introduction, and I, like the unlicked cub14 I must have been, only said, ‘that so, father,’ staring at the timid little creature337 so critically, that her pale face flushed rosy15 red under my raw gaze. I helped her out (light as a bird she was), and showed her into the house, where mother took her right to her heart on the spot. From that on she melted into the home life as if she had always been part of it, a quiet patient helper that made mother’s life a very easy one. God knows it had been hard enough. Many little attentions and comforts unknown before, grew to be a part of our daily routine, but if I noticed them at all (and I hardly think I did then), I took them as a matter of course, nor ever gave sign that I appreciated the thoughtful care that provided them. So the years slithered past uneventfully till I was twenty-one, when dad fell sick. Within a week he was dead. It was a terrible stroke to mother and Cicely, but neither of them were given to much show of feeling (I reckon there was scant16 encouragement), and things went on much as usual. I didn’t seem to feel it very much—didn’t seem to feel anything much in those days, except mad with my folks when everything wasn’t just as I wanted it. Dad’s affairs were all shipshape. He left mother fairly well off, and Cicely just enough to live on in case of necessity, while I came in for everything else, which meant an income of 1500 dollars a year if I chose to realize and not work any more. Being now, however, fairly wound up like any other machine, and warranted to go right on in the same jog, I had no thought of change. Don’t suppose I ever should have had; but—Excuse me, boys, I’m a bit husky, and there’s something in my eye. All right now.
“That summer we had boarders from Boston, well-to-do city folks pining for a change of air and scene, who offered a big price for such accommodation as we could give them for a couple of months.
“I drove down to the village to meet them with the best waggon, and found them waiting for me at Squire18 Pickering’s house—two elderly ladies and a young one. Boys, I can’t begin to describe that young lady to you; all I know is, that the first time our eyes met, I felt kinder as I guess Eve must have done when she eat the apple, only more so. All my old life that I had been well contented19 with came up before me and looked just unbearable20. I felt awkward, and rough, and ugly; my new store clothes felt as if they’d been hewn out of deals, my head burned like a furnace, and my hands and feet were numb21 cold. When, in answer to some trifling22 question put to me by one of the old ladies, I said a few words, they sounded ’way off down a long tunnel, and as if I had nothing to do with them. Worst of all, I couldn’t keep my foolish eyes off that young lady, do what I would. How I drove the waggon home I don’t know. I suppose the machine was geared up so well, it ran of its own accord—didn’t want any thinking done. For I was thinking of anything in the wide world but my duty. I was a soldier, a statesman, a millionaire by turns, but only that I might win for my own that wonderful creature that had come like an unpredicted comet into my quiet sky.
“Now, don’t you think I’m going to trouble you with my love-making. I’d had no experience, so I339 dare say it was pretty original, but the only thing I can remember about it is that I had neither eyes nor ears for anything or anybody else but Agatha Deerham (that was her name), and that I neglected everything for her. She took my worship as a matter of course, calmly, royally, unconsciously; but if she smiled on me, I was crazy with gladness.
“Meanwhile my behaviour put mother and Cicely about no end. But for their industry and forethought, things would have been in a pretty muddle23, for I was worse than useless to them; spent most of my time mooning about like the brainsick fool I was, building castles in Spain, or trying to invent something that would please the woman I worshipped. Oh, but I was blind; a poor blind fool. Looking back now, I know I must have been mad as well as blind. Agatha saw immediately upon coming into my home what I had never seen in all those long years—that Cicely—quiet, patient little Cicely—loved me with her whole heart, and would have died to serve me. So, with that refinement24 of cruelty that some women can show, she deliberately25 set herself, not to infatuate me more—that was impossible—but to show Cicely that she, the new-comer, while not valuing my love at a pin, could play with it, prove it, trifle with it as she listed.
“Sometimes her treatment nearly drove me frantic26 with rage, but a tender glance from her wonderful eyes brought me fawning27 to her feet again directly. Great heaven, how she made me suffer! I wonder I didn’t go really mad, I was in such a tumult28 of conflicting passions continually.
“The time drew near for them to return to their city home. Now, although Agatha had tacitly accepted all my attentions, nothing definite had yet passed between us, but the announcement of her imminent29 departure brought matters to a climax30. Seizing the first opportunity of being alone with her, I declared my passion in a frenzy31 of wild words, offered her my hand, and swore that if she refused me I would do—I hardly remember what; but, among other things, certainly kill her, and then myself. She smiled pityingly upon me, and quietly said, ‘What about Cicely?’ Bewildered at her question, so little had any thought of Cicely in connection with love entered my head, I stared for a few moments blankly at the beautiful and maliciously32 smiling face before me, muttering at last, ‘Whatever do you mean?’
“With a ringing laugh, she said, ‘Can it be possible that you are unaware33 how your cousin worships you?’ Black shame upon me, I was not content with scornfully repudiating34 the possibility of such a thing, but poured all the bitter contempt I could give utterance35 to upon the poor girl, whose only fault was love of me. While thus basely engaged, I saw Agatha change colour, and turning, found Cicely behind me, trembling and livid as one who had received a mortal wound. Shame, anger, and passion for Agatha kept me speechless as she recovered herself and silently glided36 away.
“But I must hurry up if I’m not going to be tedious. Encouraged by Agatha, I sold the farm, sending mother and Cicely adrift to live upon their341 little means, and, gathering37 all together, took my departure for Boston. Arrangements for our marriage were hurried on at my request, not so swiftly, however, but that news reached me on my wedding morning of mother’s death. For a moment I was staggered, even the peculiar38 thing which served me for a heart felt a pang39, but only in passing. What had become of Cicely I never troubled enough to think, much less to inquire.
“Some weeks of delirious40 gaiety followed, during which I drank to the full from the cup of my desires. Our lives were a whirl of what, for want of a better word, I suppose I must call enjoyment41; at any rate, we did and had whatever we had a mind to, nor ever stopped to think of the sequel. We had no home, never waited to provide one, but lived at a smart hotel at a rate that would have killed my father to think of.
“One night at the theatre I slipped on the marble staircase, fell to the bottom a tangle42 of limbs, and was taken up with a broken leg, right arm, and collar bone. At some one’s suggestion I was removed to hospital. There, but for the ministrations of the nurses and surgeons, I was left alone, not a single one of my acquaintances coming near me. But what worried me was my wife’s neglect. What could have become of her? Where was she? These ceaselessly repeated and unanswered questions, coupled with my utter helplessness, drove me into a brain fever, in which I lost touch with the world for six weeks.
“I awoke one morning, a wan17 shade of my old342 self, but able to think again (would to God I never had). I was informed that no one had been to inquire after me during my long delirium43, and this sombre fact stood up before me like a barrier never to be passed, reared between me and any hope in life. But, in spite of the drawbacks, I got better, got well, came out into the world again. I was homeless, friendless, penniless. The proprietor44 of the hotel where I had stayed with my wife informed me that she had left in company with a gentleman, with whom she seemed so intimate that he thought it must be some relative, but as he spoke45, I read the truth in his eyes. He took pity on my forlorn condition and gave me a little money, enough to keep me alive for a week or two, but strongly advised me to go back to my native village and stay there. I was too broken to resent the idea, but in my own mind there was a formless plan of operations insisting upon being carried out.
“Husbanding my little stock of money with the utmost care, and barely spending sufficient to support life, I began a search for my wife. Little by little I learnt the ghastly sordid46 truth. Virtue47, honour, or probity48, had never been known to her, and my accident only gave her an opportunity that she had been longing49 for. Why she had married me was a mystery. Perhaps she sought a new sensation, and didn’t find it.
“Well, I tracked her and her various companions, until after about three months I lost all traces in New York. Do what I would, no more news of her could be obtained. But I had grown very patient in my343 search, though hardly knowing why I sought. My purpose was as hazy50 as my plan had been. So, from day to day I plodded51 through such small jobs as I could find, never losing sight for an hour of my one object in life.
“I must have been in New York quite six months, when I was one day trudging52 along Bleecker Street on an errand for somebody, and there met me face to face my cousin Cicely. I did not know her, but she recognized me instantly, and I saw in her sweet face such a look of sympathy and loving compassion53 that, broken-hearted, I covered my face and cried like a child. ‘Hush,’ she said, ‘you will be molested,’ and, putting her arm through mine, she led me some distance to a dilapidated house, the door of which she opened with a key. Showing me into a tidy little room, she bade me sit down while she got me a cup of coffee, refusing to enter into conversation until I was a bit refreshed. Then, bit by bit, I learned that she had heard of my desertion by Agatha, and had formed a resolution to find her and bring her back to me if possible. She did find her, but was repulsed54 by her with a perfect fury of scorn, and told to go and find me and keep me, since such a worthless article as I was not likely to be useful to any other person on earth. Such a reception would have daunted55 most women; but I think Cicely was more than woman, or else how could she do as she did.
“Driven from my wife’s presence, she never lost sight of her, feeling sure that her opportunity would344 soon come. It came very suddenly. In the midst of her flaunting56, vicious round of gaiety small-pox seized her, and as she had left me, so she was left, but not even in an hospital. Cicely found her alone, raving57, tearing at her flesh in agony, with no one to help or pity. It was the opportunity she had sought, and hour by hour she wrestled58 with death and hell for that miserable59 woman. It was a long fight, but she was victorious60, and although a sorrowful gap was made in her small stock of money, she was grateful and content.
“Agatha was a wreck61. Utterly62 hideous63 to look upon, with memory like a tiger tearing at her heart, she yet had not the courage to die, or, doubtless, she would quickly have ended all her woes64. Quietly, unobtrusively, constantly, Cicely waited on her, worked for her, and at last had succeeded in bringing us together. The knowledge that she whom I had sought so long was in the same house took away my breath. As soon as I recovered myself a bit, Cicely went to prepare her for meeting me. Unknown to Cicely, I followed, and almost immediately after she entered the room where my wife lay, I presented myself at the door. Looking past the woman who had preserved her miserable life, she saw my face. Then, with a horrible cry, unlike anything human, she sprang at my poor cousin like a jaguar65, tearing, shrieking66. If I dwell any longer on that nightmare I shall go mad myself. I did what I could, and bear the marks of that encounter for life, but I could not save Cicely’s life.
“The room filled with people, and the maniac67 was secured. After I had given my evidence on the inquiry68, I slunk away, too mean to live, afraid to die. A recruiter secured me for this ship, and here I am, but I know that my useless life is nearly over. The world will be well rid of me.”
When he stopped talking, there was a dead silence for a few minutes. Such a yarn was unusual among whalemen, and they hardly knew how to take it. But the oldest veteran of the party dispelled69 the uneasy feeling by calling for a song, and volunteering one himself, just to keep things going. In the queerest nasal twang imaginable he thundered out some twenty verses of doggerel70 concerning the deeds of Admiral Semmes of the Alabama, with a different tune71 to each verse. It was uproariously received, but story-telling held the field, and another yarn was demanded.
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1
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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vociferously
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| adv.喊叫地，吵闹地 | |
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yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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adaptable
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| adj.能适应的，适应性强的，可改编的 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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shingle
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| n.木瓦板；小招牌(尤指医生或律师挂的营业招牌)；v.用木瓦板盖（屋顶）；把（女子头发）剪短 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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unduly
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| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
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pampered
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| adj.饮食过量的，饮食奢侈的v.纵容，宠，娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sprout
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| n.芽，萌芽；vt.使发芽，摘去芽；vi.长芽，抽条 | |
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waggon
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| n.运货马车，运货车；敞篷车箱 | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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cub
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| n.幼兽，年轻无经验的人 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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muddle
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| n.困惑，混浊状态；vt.使混乱，使糊涂，使惊呆；vi.胡乱应付，混乱 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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fawning
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| adj.乞怜的，奉承的v.（尤指狗等）跳过来往人身上蹭以示亲热( fawn的现在分词 )；巴结；讨好 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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maliciously
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| adv.有敌意地 | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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repudiating
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| v.（正式地）否认( repudiate的现在分词 )；拒绝接受；拒绝与…往来；拒不履行（法律义务） | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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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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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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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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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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45
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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46
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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probity
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| n.刚直；廉洁，正直 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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50
hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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51
plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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52
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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53
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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repulsed
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| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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daunted
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| 使（某人）气馁，威吓( daunt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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61
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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jaguar
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| n.美洲虎 | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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68
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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69
dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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70
doggerel
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| n.拙劣的诗，打油诗 | |
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71
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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