Well, gentlemen, my grandfather was on his way to England, for which he intended to embark7 at Ostend;—bad luck to the place for one where I was kept by storms and head winds for three long days, and the divil of a jolly companion or pretty face to comfort me. Well, as I was saying, my grandfather was on his way to England, or rather to Ostend—no matter which, it’s all the same. So one evening, towards nightfall, he rode jollily into Bruges. Very like you all know Bruges, gentlemen, a queer, old-fashioned Flemish town, once they say a great place for trade and money-making, in old times, when the Mynheers were in their glory; but almost as large and as empty as an Irishman’s pocket at the present day.
Well, gentlemen, it was the time of the annual fair. All Bruges was crowded; and the canals swarmed8 with Dutch boats, and the streets swarmed with Dutch merchants; and there was hardly any getting along for goods, wares9, and merchandises, and peasants in big breeches, and women in half a score of petticoats.
My grandfather rode jollily along in his easy, slashing10 way, for he was a saucy11, sunshiny fellow—staring about him at the motley crowd, and the old houses with gable ends to the street and storks’ nests on the chimneys; winking12 at the ya vrouws who showed their faces at the windows, and joking the women right and left in the street; all of whom laughed and took it in amazing good part; for though he did not know a word of their language, yet he always had a knack13 of making himself understood among the women.
Well, gentlemen, it being the time of the annual fair, all the town was crowded; every inn and tavern14 full, and my grandfather applied15 in vain from one to the other for admittance. At length he rode up to an old rackety inn that looked ready to fall to pieces, and which all the rats would have run away from, if they could have found room in any other house to put their heads. It was just such a queer building as you see in Dutch pictures, with a tall roof that reached up into the clouds; and as many garrets, one over the other, as the seven heavens of Mahomet. Nothing had saved it from tumbling down but a stork’s nest on the chimney, which always brings good luck to a house in the Low Countries; and at the very time of my grandfather’s arrival, there were two of these long-legged birds of grace, standing16 like ghosts on the chimney top. Faith, but they’ve kept the house on its legs to this very day; for you may see it any time you pass through Bruges, as it stands there yet; only it is turned into a brewery17—a brewery of strong Flemish beer; at least it was so when I came that way after the battle of Waterloo.
My grandfather eyed the house curiously18 as he approached. It might Not altogether have struck his fancy, had he not seen in large letters over the door,
HEER VERKOOPT MAN GOEDEN DRANK.
My grandfather had learnt enough of the language to know that the sign promised good liquor. “This is the house for me,” said he, stopping short before the door.
The sudden appearance of a dashing dragoon was an event in an old inn, frequented only by the peaceful sons of traffic. A rich burgher of Antwerp, a stately ample man, in a broad Flemish hat, and who was the great man and great patron of the establishment, sat smoking a clean long pipe on one side of the door; a fat little distiller of Geneva from Schiedam, sat smoking on the other, and the bottle-nosed host stood in the door, and the comely19 hostess, in crimped cap, beside him; and the hostess’ daughter, a plump Flanders lass, with long gold pendants in her ears, was at a side window.
“Humph!” said the rich burgher of Antwerp, with a sulky glance at the stranger.
“Der duyvel!” said the fat little distiller of Schiedam.
The landlord saw with the quick glance of a publican that the new guest was not at all, at all, to the taste of the old ones; and to tell the truth, he did not himself like my grandfather’s saucy eye.
He shook his head—“Not a garret in the house but was full.”
“Not a garret!” echoed the daughter.
The burgher of Antwerp and the little distiller of Schiedam continued to smoke their pipes sullenly21, eyed the enemy askance from under their broad hats, but said nothing.
My grandfather was not a man to be browbeaten22. He threw the reins23 on his horse’s neck, cocked his hat on one side, stuck one arm akimbo, slapped his broad thigh24 with the other hand—
“Faith and troth!” said he, “but I’ll sleep in this house this very night!”
My grandfather had on a tight pair of buckskins—the slap went to the landlady’s heart.
He followed up the vow25 by jumping off his horse, and making his way past the staring Mynheers into the public room. May be you’ve been in the barroom of an old Flemish inn—faith, but a handsome chamber26 it was as you’d wish to see; with a brick floor, a great fire-place, with the whole Bible history in glazed27 tiles; and then the mantel-piece, pitching itself head foremost out of the wall, with a whole regiment28 of cracked tea-pots and earthen jugs29 paraded on it; not to mention half a dozen great Delft platters hung about the room by way of pictures; and the little bar in one corner, and the bouncing bar-maid inside of it with a red calico cap and yellow ear-drops.
My grandfather snapped his fingers over his head, as he cast an eye round the room: “Faith, this is the very house I’ve been looking after,” said he.
There was some farther show of resistance on the part of the garrison30, but my grandfather was an old soldier, and an Irishman to boot, and not easily repulsed31, especially after he had got into the fortress32. So he blarney’d the landlord, kissed the landlord’s wife, tickled33 the landlord’s daughter, chucked the bar-maid under the chin; and it was agreed on all hands that it would be a thousand pities, and a burning shame into the bargain, to turn such a bold dragoon into the streets. So they laid their heads together, that is to say, my grandfather and the landlady, and it was at length agreed to accommodate him with an old chamber that had for some time been shut up.
“Some say it’s haunted!” whispered the landlord’s daughter, “but you’re a bold dragoon, and I dare say you don’t fear ghosts.”
“The divil a bit!” said my grandfather, pinching her plump cheek; “but if I should be troubled by ghosts, I’ve been to the Red Sea in my time, and have a pleasant way of laying them, my darling!”
And then he whispered something to the girl which made her laugh, and give him a good-humored box on the ear. In short, there was nobody knew better how to make his way among the petticoats than my grandfather.
In a little while, as was his usual way, he took complete possession of the house: swaggering all over it;—into the stable to look after his horse; into the kitchen to look after his supper. He had something to say or do with every one; smoked with the Dutchmen; drank with the Germans; slapped the men on the shoulders, tickled the women under the ribs:-never since the days of Ally Croaker had such a rattling34 blade been seen. The landlord stared at him with astonishment35; the landlord’s daughter hung her head and giggled36 whenever he came near; and as he turned his back and swaggered along, his tight jacket setting off his broad shoulders and plump buckskins, and his long sword trailing by his side, the maids whispered to one another—“What a proper man!”
At supper my grandfather took command of the table d’hôte as though he had been at home; helped everybody, not forgetting himself; talked with every one, whether he understood their language or not; and made his way into the intimacy37 of the rich burgher of Antwerp, who had never been known to be sociable38 with any one during his life. In fact, he revolutionized the whole establishment, and gave it such a rouse, that the very house reeled with it. He outsat every one at table excepting the little fat distiller of Schiedam, who had sat soaking for a long time before he broke forth39; but when he did, he was a very devil incarnate40. He took a violent affection for my grandfather; so they sat drinking, and smoking, and telling stories, and singing Dutch and Irish songs, without understanding a word each other said, until the little Hollander was fairly swampt with his own gin and water, and carried off to bed, whooping41 and hiccuping42, and trolling the burthen of a Low Dutch love song.
Well, gentlemen, my grandfather was shown to his quarters, up a huge Staircase composed of loads of hewn timber; and through long rigmarole passages, hung with blackened paintings of fruit, and fish, and game, and country frollics, and huge kitchens, and portly burgomasters, such as you see about old-fashioned Flemish inns, till at length he arrived at his room.
An old-times chamber it was, sure enough, and crowded with all kinds of trumpery43. It looked like an infirmary for decayed and superannuated44 furniture; where everything diseased and disabled was sent to nurse, or to be forgotten. Or rather, it might have been taken for a general congress of old legitimate45 moveables, where every kind and country had a representative. No two chairs were alike: such high backs and low backs, and leather bottoms and worsted bottoms, and straw bottoms, and no bottoms; and cracked marble tables with curiously carved legs, holding balls in their claws, as though they were going to play at ninepins.
My grandfather made a bow to the motley assemblage as he entered, and having undressed himself, placed his light in the fire-place, asking pardon of the tongs46, which seemed to be making love to the shovel47 in the chimney corner, and whispering soft nonsense in its ear.
The rest of the guests were by this time sound asleep; for your Mynheers are huge sleepers48. The house maids, one by one, crept up yawning to their attics49, and not a female head in the inn was laid on a pillow that night without dreaming of the Bold Dragoon.
My grandfather, for his part, got into bed, and drew over him one of those great bags of down, under which they smother50 a man in the Low Countries; and there he lay, melting between, two feather beds, like an anchovy51 sandwich between two slices of toast and butter. He was a warm-complexioned man, and this smothering53 played the very deuce with him. So, sure enough, in a little while it seemed as if a legion of imps54 were twitching55 at him and all the blood in his veins56 was in fever heat.
He lay still, however, until all the house was quiet, excepting the snoring of the Mynheers from the different chambers57; who answered one another in all kinds of tones and cadences58, like so many bull-frogs in a swamp. The quieter the house became, the more unquiet became my grandfather. He waxed warmer and warmer, until at length the bed became too hot to hold him.
“May be the maid had warmed it too much?” said the curious gentleman, inquiringly.
“I rather think the contrary,” replied the Irishman. “But be that as it may, it grew too hot for my grandfather.”
“Faith there’s no standing this any longer,” says he; so he jumped out of bed and went strolling about the house.
“What for?” said the inquisitive59 gentleman.
“Why, to cool himself to be sure,” replied the other, “or perhaps to find a more comfortable bed—or perhaps—but no matter what he went for—he never mentioned; and there’s no use in taking up our time in conjecturing60.”
Well, my grandfather had been for some time absent from his room, and was returning, perfectly61 cool, when just as he reached the door he heard a strange noise within. He paused and listened. It seemed as if some one was trying to hum a tune62 in defiance63 of the asthma64. He recollected65 the report of the room’s being haunted; but he was no believer in ghosts. So he pushed the door gently ajar, and peeped in.
By the light of the fire he saw a pale weazen-faced fellow in a long Flannel67 gown and a tall white night-cap with a tassel68 to it, who sat by the fire, with a bellows69 under his arm by way of bagpipe70, from which he forced the asthmatical music that had bothered my grandfather. As he played, too, he kept twitching about with a thousand queer contortions71; nodding his head and bobbing about his tasselled night-cap.
My grandfather thought this very odd, and mighty72 presumptuous73, and was about to demand what business he had to play his wind instruments in another gentleman’s quarters, when a new cause of astonishment met his eye. From the opposite side of the room a long-backed, bandy-legged chair, covered with leather, and studded all over in a coxcomical fashion with little brass74 nails, got suddenly into motion; thrust out first a claw foot, then a crooked75 arm, and at length, making a leg, slided gracefully76 up to an easy chair, of tarnished77 brocade, with a hole in its bottom, and led it gallantly78 out in a ghostly minuet about the floor.
The musician now played fiercer and fiercer, and bobbed his head and His nightcap about like mad. By degrees the dancing mania79 seemed to seize upon all the other pieces of furniture. The antique, long-bodied chairs paired off in couples and led down a country dance; a three-legged stool danced a hornpipe, though horribly puzzled by its supernumerary leg; while the amorous80 tongs seized the shovel round the waist, and whirled it about the room in a German waltz. In short, all the moveables got in motion, capering81 about; pirouetting, hands across, right and left, like so many devils, all except a great clothes-press, which kept curtseying and curtseying, like a dowager, in one corner, in exquisite82 time to the music;—being either too corpulent to dance, or perhaps at a loss for a partner.
My grandfather concluded the latter to be the reason; so, being, like a true Irishman, devoted83 to the sex, and at all times ready for a frolic, he bounced into the room, calling to the musician to strike up “Paddy O’Rafferty,” capered84 up to the clothes-press and seized upon two handles to lead her out:—When, whizz!—the whole revel85 was at an end. The chairs, tables, tongs, and shovel slunk in an instant as quietly into their places as if nothing had happened; and the musician vanished up the chimney, leaving the bellows behind him in his hurry. My grandfather found himself seated in the middle of the floor, with the clothes-press sprawling86 before him, and the two handles jerked off and in his hands.
“The divil a bit of a dream!” replied the Irishman: “there never was a truer fact in this world. Faith, I should have liked to see any man tell my grandfather it was a dream.”
Well, gentlemen, as the clothes-press was a mighty heavy body, and my grandfather likewise, particularly in rear, you may easily suppose two such heavy bodies coming to the ground would make a bit of a noise. Faith, the old mansion88 shook as though it had mistaken it for an earthquake. The whole garrison was alarmed. The landlord, who slept just below, hurried up with a candle to inquire the cause, but with all his haste his daughter had hurried to the scene of uproar89 before him. The landlord was followed by the landlady, who was followed by the bouncing bar-maid, who was followed by the simpering chambermaids all holding together, as well as they could, such garments as they had first lain hands on; but all in a terrible hurry to see what the devil was to pay in the chamber of the bold dragoon.
My grandfather related the marvellous scene he had witnessed, and the prostrate90 clothes-press, and the broken handles, bore testimony91 to the fact. There was no contesting such evidence; particularly with a lad of my grandfather’s complexion52, who seemed able to make good every word either with sword or shillelah. So the landlord scratched his head and looked silly, as he was apt to do when puzzled. The landlady scratched—no, she did not scratch her head,—but she knit her brow, and did not seem half pleased with the explanation. But the landlady’s daughter corroborated92 it by recollecting93 that the last person who had dwelt in that chamber was a famous juggler94 who had died of St. Vitus’s dance, and no doubt had infected all the furniture.
This set all things to rights, particularly when the chambermaids declared that they had all witnessed strange carryings on in that room;—and as they declared this “upon their honors,” there could not remain a doubt upon the subject.
“And did your grandfather go to bed again in that room?” said the inquisitive gentleman.
“That’s more than I can tell. Where he passed the rest of the night was a secret he never disclosed. In fact, though he had seen much service, he was but indifferently acquainted with geography, and apt to make blunders in his travels about inns at night, that it would have puzzled him sadly to account for in the morning.”
“Was he ever apt to walk in his sleep?” said the knowing old gentleman.
“Never that I heard of.”
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1
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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posterity
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| n.后裔，子孙，后代 | |
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vainglorious
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| adj.自负的；夸大的 | |
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doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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purport
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| n.意义，要旨，大要；v.意味著，做为...要旨，要领是... | |
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7
embark
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| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
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8
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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wares
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| n. 货物, 商品 | |
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10
slashing
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| adj.尖锐的；苛刻的；鲜明的；乱砍的v.挥砍( slash的现在分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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13
knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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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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brewery
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| n.啤酒厂 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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browbeaten
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| v.（以言辞或表情）威逼，恫吓( browbeat的过去分词 ) | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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jugs
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| （有柄及小口的）水壶( jug的名词复数 ) | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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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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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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incarnate
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| adj.化身的，人体化的，肉色的 | |
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41
whooping
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| 发嗬嗬声的，发咳声的 | |
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42
hiccuping
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| v.嗝( hiccup的现在分词 )；连续地打嗝；暂时性的小问题；短暂的停顿 | |
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43
trumpery
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| n.无价值的杂物；adj.（物品）中看不中用的 | |
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superannuated
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| adj.老朽的，退休的；v.因落后于时代而废除，勒令退学 | |
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45
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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46
tongs
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| n.钳；夹子 | |
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shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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48
sleepers
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| n.卧铺（通常以复数形式出现）；卧车( sleeper的名词复数 )；轨枕；睡觉（呈某种状态）的人；小耳环 | |
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49
attics
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| n. 阁楼 | |
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50
smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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51
anchovy
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| n.凤尾鱼 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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53
smothering
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的现在分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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54
imps
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| n.（故事中的）小恶魔( imp的名词复数 )；小魔鬼；小淘气；顽童 | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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56
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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cadences
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| n.（声音的）抑扬顿挫( cadence的名词复数 )；节奏；韵律；调子 | |
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59
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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conjecturing
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| v. & n. 推测，臆测 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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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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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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asthma
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| n.气喘病，哮喘病 | |
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recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gambol
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| v.欢呼，雀跃 | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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tassel
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| n.流苏，穗；v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须 | |
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bellows
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| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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bagpipe
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| n.风笛 | |
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contortions
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| n.扭歪，弯曲；扭曲，弄歪，歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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presumptuous
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| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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mania
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| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
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amorous
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| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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capering
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| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的现在分词 )；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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capered
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| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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corroborated
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| v.证实，支持（某种说法、信仰、理论等）( corroborate的过去式 ) | |
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recollecting
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| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
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juggler
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| n. 变戏法者, 行骗者 | |
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