bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第52节
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stay too long； by such a place as this！ Come； straggling lights into
the windows of the ugly houses； and you who do iniquity therein；
do it at least with this dread scene shut out！ Come； flame of gas；
burning so sullenly above the iron gate； on which the poisoned air
deposits its witch…ointment slimy to the touch！ It is well that you
should call to every passer…by； “Look here！”
With the night； comes a slouching figure through the tunnel…
court； to the outside of the iron gate。 It holds the gate with its
hands； and looks in between the bars； stands looking in； for a little
while。
It then； with an old broom it carries； softly sweeps the step； and
makes the archway clean。 It does so； very busily and trimly； looks
in again； a little while； and so departs。
Jo； is it thou？ Well； well！ Though a rejected witness； who “can’t
exactly say” what will be done to him in greater hands than men’s；
thou art not quite in outer darkness。 There is something like a
distant ray of light in thy muttered reason for this：—
“He wos wery good to me； he wos！”
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Chapter 12
On The Watch
t has left off raining down in Lincolnshire； at last； and
IChesney Wold has taken heart。 Mrs Rouncewell is full of
hospitable cares； for Sir Leicester and my Lady are coming
home from Paris。 The fashionable intelligence has found it out；
and communicates the glad tidings to benighted England。 It has
also found out； that they will entertain a brilliant and
distinguished circle of the élite of the beau monde （the fashionable
intelligence is weak in English； but a giant…refreshed in French）； at
the ancient and hospitable family seat in Lincolnshire。
For the greater honour of the brilliant and distinguished circle；
and of Chesney Wold into the bargain； the broken arch of the
bridge in the park is mended； and the water； now retired within its
proper limits and again spanned gracefully； makes a figure in the
prospect from the house。 The clear cold sunshine glances into the
brittle woods； and approvingly beholds the sharp wind scattering
the leaves and drying the moss。 It glides over the park after the
moving shadows of the clouds； and chases them； and never
catches them； all day。 It looks in at the windows； and touches the
ancestral portraits with bars and patches of brightness； never
contemplated by the painters。 Athwart the picture of my Lady；
over the great chimney…piece； it throws a broad bend…sinister of
light that strikes down crookedly into the hearth； and seems to
rend it。
Through the same cold sunshine； and the same sharp wind； my
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Lady and Sir Leicester； in their travelling chariot； （my Lady’s
woman； and Sir Leicester’s man affectionate in the rumble；） start
for home。 With a considerable amount of jingling and whip…
cracking； and many plunging demonstrations on the part of two
bare…backed horses； and two Centaurs with glazed hats； jackboots；
and flowing manes and tales； they rattle out of the yard of the
Hotel Bristol in the Place Vendome； and canter between the sun…
and…shadow…chequered colonnade of the Rue de Rivoli and the
garden of the ill…fated palace of a headless king and queen； off by
the Place of Concord； and the Elysian Fields； and the Gate of the
Star； out of Paris。
Sooth to say； they cannot go away too fast； for even here； my
Lady Dedlock has been bored to death。 Concert； assembly； opera；
theatre； drive； nothing is new to my Lady； under the worn…out
heavens。 Only last Sunday； when poor wretches were gay within
the walls； playing with children among the clipped trees and the
statues in the Palace Garden； walking； a score abreast； in the
Elysian Fields； made more Elysian by performing dogs and
wooden horses； between whiles filtering （a few） through the
gloomy Cathedral of our Lady； to say a word or two at the base of a
pillar； within flare of a rusty little gridiron…full of gusty little
tapers—without the walls； encompassing Paris with dancing；
lovemaking； wine…drinking； tobacco…smoking； tomb…visiting；
billiard； card； and domino playing； quack…doctoring； and much
murderous refuse； animate and inanimate—only last Sunday； my
Lady； in the desolation of Boredom and the Clutch of Giant
Despair； almost hated her own maid for being in spirits。
She cannot； therefore； go too fast from Paris。 Weariness of soul
lies before her； as it lies behind—her Ariel has put a girdle of it
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round the whole earth； and it cannot be unclasped—but the
imperfect remedy is always to fly； from the last place where it has
been experienced。 Fling Paris back into the distance； then；
exchanging it for endless avenues and cross…avenues of wintry
trees！ And； when next beheld； let it be some leagues away； with
the Gate of the Star a white speck glittering in the sun； and the
city a mere mound in a plain： two dark square towers rising out of
it； and light and shadow descending on it aslant； like the angels in
Jacob’s dream！
Sir Leicester is generally in a complacent state； and rarely
bored。 When he has nothing else to do； he can always contemplate
his own greatness。 It is a considerable advantage to a man； to have
so inexhaustible a subject。 After reading his letters； he leans back
in his corner of the carriage； and generally reviews his importance
to society。
“You have an unusual amount of correspondence this
morning？” says my Lady； after a long time。 She is fatigued with
reading。 Has almost read a page in twenty miles。
“Nothing in it； though。 Nothing whatever。”
“I saw one of Mr Tulkinghorn’s long effusions I think？”
“You see everything；” says Sir Leicester； with admiration。
“Ha！” sighs my Lady。 “He is the most tiresome of men。”
“He sends—I really beg your pardon—he sends；” says Sir
Leicester； selecting the letter； and unfolding it； “a message to you。
Our stopping to change horses； as I came to his postscript； drove it
out of my memory； I beg you’ll excuse me。 He says—” Sir
Leicester is so long in taking out his eyeglass and adjusting it； that
my Lady looks a little irritated。 “He says ‘In the matter of the right
of way—’ I beg your pardon； that’s not the place。 He says—yes！
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Here I have it！ He says； ‘I beg my respectful compliments to my
Lady； who； I hope； has benefited by the change。 Will you do me the
favour to mention （as it may interest her）； that I have something to
tell her on her return； in reference to the person who copied the
affidavit in the Chancery suit； which so powerfully stimulated her
curiosity。 I have seen him。’” My Lady； leaning forward； looks out
of her window。
“That’s the message；” observed Sir Leicester。
“I should like to walk a little；” says my Lady； still looking out of
her window。
“Walk？” repeats Sir Leicester； in a tone of surprise。
“I should like to walk a little；” says my Lady； with
unmistakeable distinctness。 “Please to stop the carriage。”
