sartor resartus-第28章
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!
ful rose up; in wavy curvature; the slope of thy guardian Hills; of the greenest was their sward; embossed with its dark…brown frets of crag; or spotted by some spreading solitary Tree and its shadow。 To the unconscious Wayfarer thou wert also as an Ammon's Temple; in the Libyan Waste; where; for joy and woe; the tablet of his Destiny lay written。 Well might he pause and gaze; in that glance of his were prophecy and nameless forebodings。〃
But now let us conjecture that the so presentient Auscultator has handed in his _Relatio ex Actis_; been invited to a glass of Rhine…wine; and so; instead of returning dispirited and athirst to his dusty Town…home; is ushered into the Garden…house; where sit the choicest party of dames and cavaliers: if not engaged in AEsthetic Tea; yet in trustful evening conversation; and perhaps Musical Coffee; for we hear of 〃harps and pure voices making the stillness live。〃 Scarcely; it would seem; is the Garden…house inferior in respectability to the noble Mansion itself。 〃Embowered amid rich foliage; rose…clusters; and the hues and odors of thousand flowers; here sat that brave company; in front; from the wide…opened doors; fair outlook over blossom and bush; over grove and velvet green; stretching; undulating onwards to the remote Mountain peaks: so bright; so mild; and everywhere the melody of birds and happy creatures: it was all as if man had stolen a shelter from the SUIT in the bosom…vesture of Summer herself。 How came it that the Wanderer advanced thither with such forecasting heart (_ahndungsvoll_); by the side of his gay host? Did he feel that to these soft influences his hard bosom ought to be shut; that here; once more; Fate had it in view to try him; to mock him; and see whether there were Humor in him?
〃Next moment he finds himself presented to the party; and especially by name toBlumine! Peculiar among all dames and damosels glanced Blumine; there in her modesty; like a star among earthly lights。 Noblest maiden! whom he bent to; in body and in soul; yet scarcely dared look at; for the presence filled him with painful yet sweetest embarrassment。
〃Blumine's was a name well known to him; far and wide was the fair one heard of; for her gifts; her graces; her caprices: from all which vague colorings of Rumor; from the censures no less than from the praises; had our friend painted for himself a certain imperious Queen of Hearts; and blooming warm Earth…angel; much more enchanting than your mere white Heaven…angels of women; in whose placid veins circulates too little naphtha…fire。 Herself also he had seen in public places; that light yet so stately form; those dark tresses; shading a face where smiles and sunlight played over earnest deeps: but all this he had seen only as a magic vision; for him inaccessible; almost without reality。 Her sphere was too far from his; how should she ever think of him; O Heaven! how should they so much as once meet together? And now that Rose…goddess sits in the same circle with him; the light of _her_ eyes has smiled on him; if he speak; she will hear it! Nay; who knows; since the heavenly Sun looks into lowest valleys; but Blumine herself might have aforetime noted the so unnotable; perhaps; from his very gainsayers; as he had from hers; gathered wonder; gathered favor for him? Was the attraction; the agitation mutual; then; pole and pole trembling towards contact; when once brought into neighborhood? Say rather; heart swelling in presence of the Queen of Hearts; like the Sea swelling when once near its Moon! With the Wanderer it was even so: as in heavenward gravitation; suddenly as at the touch of a Seraph's wand; his whole soul is roused from its deepest recesses; and all that was painful and that was blissful there; dim images; vague feelings of a whole Past and a whole Future; are heaving in unquiet eddies within him。
〃Often; in far less agitating scenes; had our still Friend shrunk forcibly together; and shrouded up his tremors and flutterings; of what sort soever; in a safe cover of Silence; and perhaps of seeming Stolidity。 How was it; then; that here; when trembling to the core of his heart; he did not sink into swoons; but rose into strength; into fearlessness and clearness? It was his guiding Genius (_Damon_) that inspired him; he must go forth and meet his Destiny。 Show thyself now; whispered it; or be forever hid。 Thus sometimes it is even when your anxiety becomes transcendental; that the soul first feels herself able to transcend it; that she rises above it; in fiery victory; and borne on new…found wings of victory; moves so calmly; even because so rapidly; so irresistibly。 Always must the Wanderer remember; with a certain satisfaction and surprise; how in this case he sat not silent but struck adroitly into the stream of conversation; which thenceforth; to speak with an apparent not a real vanity; he may say that he continued to lead。 Surely; in those hours; a certain inspiration was imparted him; such inspiration as is still possible in our late era。 The self…secluded unfolds himself in noble thoughts; in free; glowing words; his soul is as one sea of light; the peculiar home of Truth and Intellect; wherein also Fantasy bodies forth form after form; radiant with all prismatic hues。〃
It appears; in this otherwise so happy meeting; there talked one 〃Philisitine;〃 who even now; to the general weariness; was dominantly pouring forth Philistinism (_Philistriositaten_。); little witting what hero was here entering to demolish him! We omit the series of Socratic; or rather Diogenic utterances; not unhappy in their way; whereby the monster; 〃persuaded into silence;〃 seems soon after to have withdrawn for the night。 〃Of which dialectic marauder;〃 writes our hero; 〃the discomfiture was visibly felt as a benefit by most: but what were all applauses to the glad smile; threatening every moment to become a laugh; wherewith Blumine herself repaid the victor? He ventured to address her she answered with attention: nay what if there were a slight tremor in that silver voice; what if the red glow of evening were hiding a transient blush!
〃The conversation took a higher tone; one fine thought called forth another: it was one of those rare seasons; when the soul expands with full freedom; and man feels himself brought near to man。 Gayly in light; graceful abandonment; the friendly talk played round that circle; for the burden was rolled from every heart; the barriers of Ceremony; which are indeed the laws of polite living; had melted as into vapor; and the poor claims of _Me_ and _Thee_; no longer parted by rigid fences; now flowed softly into one another; and Life lay all harmonious; many…tinted; like some fair royal champaign; the sovereign and owner of which were Love only。 Such music springs from kind hearts; in a kind environment of place and time。 And yet as the light grew more aerial on the mountaintops; and the shadows fell longer over the valley; some faint tone of sadness may have breathed through the heart; and; in whispers more or less audible; reminded every one that as this bright day was drawing towards its close; so likewise must the Day of Man's Existence decline into dust and darkness; and with all its sick toilings; and joyful and mournful noises; sink in the still Eternity。
〃To our Friend the hours seemed moments; holy was he and happy: the words from those sweetest lips came over him like dew on thirsty grass; all better feelings in his soul seemed to whisper; It is good for us to be here。 At parting; the Blumine's hand was in his: in the balmy twilight; with the kind stars above them; he spoke something of meeting again; which was not contradicted; he pressed gently those small soft fingers; and it seemed as if they were not hastily; not angrily withdrawn。〃
Poor Teufelsdrockh! it is clear to demonstration thou art smit: the Queen of Hearts would see a 〃man of genius〃 also sigh for her; and there; by art…magic; in that preternatural hour; has she bound and spell…bound thee。 〃Love is not altogether a Delirium;〃 says he elsewhere; 〃yet has it many points in common therewith。 I call it rather a discerning of the Infinite in the Finite; of the Idea made Real; which discerning again may be either t