章节正文
than that? Promise me, Elsie, that you will
not say a single word; it would be a cruel thing,
Elsie, to mention anything to her. She is not
like other girls, you know."
"Very well, Lage, I shall not say a single
word. Alas, you are right, she is not like other
girls." And Elsie again sighed at her husband's
sad ignorance of a woman's nature, and at the
still sadder fact of her daughter's inferiority to
the accepted standard of womanhood.
IV.
Trond Vigfusson must have made a rich
harvest of legends at Kvaerk, at least judging by
the time he stayed there; for days and weeks
passed, and he had yet said nothing of going.
Not that anybody wished him to go; no, on the
contrary, the longer he stayed the more
indispensable he seemed to all; and Lage Ulfson
could hardly think without a shudder of the
possibility of his ever having to leave them.
For Aasa, his only child, was like another being
in the presence of this stranger; all that weird,
forest-like intensity, that wild, half supernatural
tinge in her character which in a measure
excluded her from the blissful feeling of fellowship
with other men, and made her the strange,
lonely creature she was,--all this seemed to vanish
as dew in the morning sun when Vigfusson's
eyes rested upon her; and with every day that
passed, her human and womanly nature gained
a stronger hold upon her. She followed him
like his shadow on all his wanderings, and when
they sat down together by the wayside, she
would sing, in a clear, soft voice, an ancient lay
or ballad, and he would catch her words on his
paper, and smile at the happy prospect of
perpetuating what otherwise would have been lost.
Aasa's love, whether conscious or not, was to
him an everlasting source of strength, was a
revelation of himself to himself, and a clearing
and widening power which brought ever more
and more of the universe within the scope of
his vision. So they lived on from day to day
and from week to week, and, as old Lage
remarked, never had Kvaerk been the scene of so
much happiness. Not a single time during
Vigfusson's stay had Aasa fled to the forest, not a
meal had she missed, and at the hours for
family devotion she had taken her seat at the
big table with the rest and apparently listened
with as much attention and interest. Indeed,
all this time Aasa seemed purposely to avoid the
dark haunts of the woods, and, whenever she
could, chose the open highway; not even
Vigfusson's entreaties could induce her to tread the
tempting paths that led into the forest's gloom.
"And why not, Aasa?" he would say; "summer
is ten times summer there when the drowsy
noonday spreads its trembling maze of shadows
between those huge, venerable trunks. You can
feel the summer creeping into your very heart
and soul, there!"
"Oh, Vigfusson," she would answer, shaking
her head mournfully, "for a hundred paths that
lead in, there is only one that leads out again,
and sometimes even that one is nowhere to be found."
He understood her not, but fearing to ask, he
remained silent.
His words and his eyes always drew her nearer
and nearer to him; and the forest and its
strange voices seemed a dark, opposing influence,
which strove to take possession of her
heart and to wrest her away from him forever;
she helplessly clung to him; every thought and
emotion of her soul clustered about him, and every
hope of life and happiness was staked on him.
One evening Vigfusson and old Lage Ulfson
had been walking about the fields to look at the
crop, both smoking their evening pipes. But
as they came down toward the brink whence
the path leads between the two adjoining rye-
fields, they heard a sweet, sad voice crooning
some old ditty down between the birch-trees at
the precipice; they stopped to listen, and soon
recognized Aasa's yellow hair over the tops
the rye; the shadow as of a painful emotion
flitted over the father's countenance, and he
turned his back on his guest and started to go;
then again paused, and said, imploringly, "Try
to get her home if you can, friend Vigfusson.'
Vigfusson nodded, and Lage went; the song
had ceased for a moment, now it began again:
"Ye twittering birdlings, in forest and glen
I have heard you so gladly before;
But a bold knight hath come to woo me,
I dare listen to you no more.
For it is so dark, so dark in the forest.
"And the knight who hath come a-wooing to me,
He calls me his love and his own;
Why then should I stray through the darksome woods,
Or dream in the glades alone?
For it is so dark, so dark in the forest."
Her voice fell to a low unintelligible murmur;
then it rose, and the last verses came, clear, soft,
and low, drifting on the evening breeze:
"Yon beckoning world, that shimmering lay
O'er the woods where the old pines grow,
That gleamed through the moods of the summer day
When the breezes were murmuring low
(And it is so dark, so dark in the forest);
"Oh let me no more in the sunshine hear
Its quivering noonday call;
The bold knight's love is the sun of my heart--
Is my life, and my all in all.
But it is so dark, so dark in the forest."
The young man felt the blood rushing to his
face--his heart beat violently. There was a
keen sense of guilt in the blush on his cheek, a
loud accusation in the throbbing pulse and the
swelling heart-beat. Had he not stood there behind
the maiden's back and cunningly peered
into her soul's holy of holies? True, he loved
Aasa; at least he thought he did, and the
conviction was growing stronger with every day
that passed. And now he had no doubt that he
had gained her heart. It was not so much the
words of the ballad which had betrayed the
secret; he hardly knew what it was, but somehow
the truth had flashed upon him, and he could
no longer doubt.
Vigfusson sat down on the moss-grown rock
and pondered. How long he sat there he did
not know, but when he rose and looked around,
Aasa was gone. Then remembering her father's
request to bring her home, he hastened up the
hill-side toward the mansion, and searched for
her in all directions. It was near midnight
when he returned to Kvaerk, where Aasa sat in
her high gable window, still humming the weird
melody of the old ballad.
By what reasoning Vigfusson arrived at his
final conclusion is difficult to tell. If he had
acted according to his first and perhaps most
generous impulse, the matter would soon have
been decided; but he was all the time possessed
of a vague fear of acting dishonorably, and it
was probably this very fear which made him do
what, to the minds of those whose friendship
and hospitality he had accepted, had something
of the appearance he wished so carefully to
avoid. Aasa was rich; he had nothing; it was
a reason for delay, but hardly a conclusive one.
They did not know him; he must go out in the
world and prove himself worthy of her. He
would come back when he should have compelled
the world to respect him; for as yet he had done
nothing. In fact, his arguments were good and
honorable enough, and there would have been
no fault to find with him, had the object of his
love been as capable of reasoning as he was
himself. But Aasa, poor thing, could do nothing
by halves; a nature like hers brooks no delay;
to her love was life or it was death.
The next morning he appeared at breakfast
with his knapsack on his back, and otherwise
equipped for his journey. It was of no use that
Elsie cried and begged him to stay, that Lage
joined his prayers to hers, and that Aasa stood
staring at him with a bewildered gaze. Vigfusson
shook hands with them all, thanked them for their
kindness to him, and promised to return;
he held Aasa's hand long in his, but when
he released it, it dropped helplessly at her side.
V.
Far up in the glen, about a mile from Kvaerk,
ran a little brook; that is, it was little in summer
and winter, but in the spring, while the snow
was melting up in the mountains, it overflowed
the nearest land and turned the whole glen into
a broad and shallow river. It was easy to cross,
however; a light foot might jump from stone to
stone, and be over in a minute. Not the hind
herself could be lighter on her foot than Aasa
was; and even in the spring-flood it was her
wont to cross and recross the brook, and to sit
dreaming on a large stone against which the
water broke incessantly, rushing in white
torrents over its edges.
Here she sat one fair summer day--the day
after Vigfusson's departure. It was noon, and
the sun stood high over the forest. The water
murmured and murmured, babbled and whispered,
until at length there came a sudden unceasing
tone into its murmur, then another, and
it sounded like a faint whispering song of small
airy beings. And as she tried to listen, to fix
the air in her mind, it all ceased again, and she
heard but the monotonous murmuring of the
brook. Everything seemed so empty and
worthless, as if that faint melody had been the
world of the moment. But there it was again;
not say a single word; it would be a cruel thing,
Elsie, to mention anything to her. She is not
like other girls, you know."
"Very well, Lage, I shall not say a single
word. Alas, you are right, she is not like other
girls." And Elsie again sighed at her husband's
sad ignorance of a woman's nature, and at the
still sadder fact of her daughter's inferiority to
the accepted standard of womanhood.
IV.
Trond Vigfusson must have made a rich
harvest of legends at Kvaerk, at least judging by
the time he stayed there; for days and weeks
passed, and he had yet said nothing of going.
Not that anybody wished him to go; no, on the
contrary, the longer he stayed the more
indispensable he seemed to all; and Lage Ulfson
could hardly think without a shudder of the
possibility of his ever having to leave them.
For Aasa, his only child, was like another being
in the presence of this stranger; all that weird,
forest-like intensity, that wild, half supernatural
tinge in her character which in a measure
excluded her from the blissful feeling of fellowship
with other men, and made her the strange,
lonely creature she was,--all this seemed to vanish
as dew in the morning sun when Vigfusson's
eyes rested upon her; and with every day that
passed, her human and womanly nature gained
a stronger hold upon her. She followed him
like his shadow on all his wanderings, and when
they sat down together by the wayside, she
would sing, in a clear, soft voice, an ancient lay
or ballad, and he would catch her words on his
paper, and smile at the happy prospect of
perpetuating what otherwise would have been lost.
Aasa's love, whether conscious or not, was to
him an everlasting source of strength, was a
revelation of himself to himself, and a clearing
and widening power which brought ever more
and more of the universe within the scope of
his vision. So they lived on from day to day
and from week to week, and, as old Lage
remarked, never had Kvaerk been the scene of so
much happiness. Not a single time during
Vigfusson's stay had Aasa fled to the forest, not a
meal had she missed, and at the hours for
family devotion she had taken her seat at the
big table with the rest and apparently listened
with as much attention and interest. Indeed,
all this time Aasa seemed purposely to avoid the
dark haunts of the woods, and, whenever she
could, chose the open highway; not even
Vigfusson's entreaties could induce her to tread the
tempting paths that led into the forest's gloom.
"And why not, Aasa?" he would say; "summer
is ten times summer there when the drowsy
noonday spreads its trembling maze of shadows
between those huge, venerable trunks. You can
feel the summer creeping into your very heart
and soul, there!"
"Oh, Vigfusson," she would answer, shaking
her head mournfully, "for a hundred paths that
lead in, there is only one that leads out again,
and sometimes even that one is nowhere to be found."
He understood her not, but fearing to ask, he
remained silent.
His words and his eyes always drew her nearer
and nearer to him; and the forest and its
strange voices seemed a dark, opposing influence,
which strove to take possession of her
heart and to wrest her away from him forever;
she helplessly clung to him; every thought and
emotion of her soul clustered about him, and every
hope of life and happiness was staked on him.
One evening Vigfusson and old Lage Ulfson
had been walking about the fields to look at the
crop, both smoking their evening pipes. But
as they came down toward the brink whence
the path leads between the two adjoining rye-
fields, they heard a sweet, sad voice crooning
some old ditty down between the birch-trees at
the precipice; they stopped to listen, and soon
recognized Aasa's yellow hair over the tops
the rye; the shadow as of a painful emotion
flitted over the father's countenance, and he
turned his back on his guest and started to go;
then again paused, and said, imploringly, "Try
to get her home if you can, friend Vigfusson.'
Vigfusson nodded, and Lage went; the song
had ceased for a moment, now it began again:
"Ye twittering birdlings, in forest and glen
I have heard you so gladly before;
But a bold knight hath come to woo me,
I dare listen to you no more.
For it is so dark, so dark in the forest.
"And the knight who hath come a-wooing to me,
He calls me his love and his own;
Why then should I stray through the darksome woods,
Or dream in the glades alone?
For it is so dark, so dark in the forest."
Her voice fell to a low unintelligible murmur;
then it rose, and the last verses came, clear, soft,
and low, drifting on the evening breeze:
"Yon beckoning world, that shimmering lay
O'er the woods where the old pines grow,
That gleamed through the moods of the summer day
When the breezes were murmuring low
(And it is so dark, so dark in the forest);
"Oh let me no more in the sunshine hear
Its quivering noonday call;
The bold knight's love is the sun of my heart--
Is my life, and my all in all.
But it is so dark, so dark in the forest."
The young man felt the blood rushing to his
face--his heart beat violently. There was a
keen sense of guilt in the blush on his cheek, a
loud accusation in the throbbing pulse and the
swelling heart-beat. Had he not stood there behind
the maiden's back and cunningly peered
into her soul's holy of holies? True, he loved
Aasa; at least he thought he did, and the
conviction was growing stronger with every day
that passed. And now he had no doubt that he
had gained her heart. It was not so much the
words of the ballad which had betrayed the
secret; he hardly knew what it was, but somehow
the truth had flashed upon him, and he could
no longer doubt.
Vigfusson sat down on the moss-grown rock
and pondered. How long he sat there he did
not know, but when he rose and looked around,
Aasa was gone. Then remembering her father's
request to bring her home, he hastened up the
hill-side toward the mansion, and searched for
her in all directions. It was near midnight
when he returned to Kvaerk, where Aasa sat in
her high gable window, still humming the weird
melody of the old ballad.
By what reasoning Vigfusson arrived at his
final conclusion is difficult to tell. If he had
acted according to his first and perhaps most
generous impulse, the matter would soon have
been decided; but he was all the time possessed
of a vague fear of acting dishonorably, and it
was probably this very fear which made him do
what, to the minds of those whose friendship
and hospitality he had accepted, had something
of the appearance he wished so carefully to
avoid. Aasa was rich; he had nothing; it was
a reason for delay, but hardly a conclusive one.
They did not know him; he must go out in the
world and prove himself worthy of her. He
would come back when he should have compelled
the world to respect him; for as yet he had done
nothing. In fact, his arguments were good and
honorable enough, and there would have been
no fault to find with him, had the object of his
love been as capable of reasoning as he was
himself. But Aasa, poor thing, could do nothing
by halves; a nature like hers brooks no delay;
to her love was life or it was death.
The next morning he appeared at breakfast
with his knapsack on his back, and otherwise
equipped for his journey. It was of no use that
Elsie cried and begged him to stay, that Lage
joined his prayers to hers, and that Aasa stood
staring at him with a bewildered gaze. Vigfusson
shook hands with them all, thanked them for their
kindness to him, and promised to return;
he held Aasa's hand long in his, but when
he released it, it dropped helplessly at her side.
V.
Far up in the glen, about a mile from Kvaerk,
ran a little brook; that is, it was little in summer
and winter, but in the spring, while the snow
was melting up in the mountains, it overflowed
the nearest land and turned the whole glen into
a broad and shallow river. It was easy to cross,
however; a light foot might jump from stone to
stone, and be over in a minute. Not the hind
herself could be lighter on her foot than Aasa
was; and even in the spring-flood it was her
wont to cross and recross the brook, and to sit
dreaming on a large stone against which the
water broke incessantly, rushing in white
torrents over its edges.
Here she sat one fair summer day--the day
after Vigfusson's departure. It was noon, and
the sun stood high over the forest. The water
murmured and murmured, babbled and whispered,
until at length there came a sudden unceasing
tone into its murmur, then another, and
it sounded like a faint whispering song of small
airy beings. And as she tried to listen, to fix
the air in her mind, it all ceased again, and she
heard but the monotonous murmuring of the
brook. Everything seemed so empty and
worthless, as if that faint melody had been the
world of the moment. But there it was again;
- ignorance [´ignərəns]
n.无知，愚昧 (初中英语单词) - character [´kæriktə] n.特性；性质；人物；字 (初中英语单词)
- prospect [´prɔspekt, prəs´pekt] n.景色；境界 v.勘察 (初中英语单词)
- otherwise [´ʌðəwaiz] ad.另外 conj.否则 (初中英语单词)
- conscious [´kɔnʃəs] a.意识的；自觉的 (初中英语单词)
- vision [´viʒən] n.视觉；想象力；幻影 (初中英语单词)
- devotion [di´vəuʃən] n.献身；忠诚；热爱 (初中英语单词)
- whenever [wen´evə] conj.&ad.无论何时 (初中英语单词)
- highway [´haiwei] n.公路，大道 (初中英语单词)
- countenance [´kauntinəns] n.面部表情；脸色；面容 (初中英语单词)
- sunshine [´sʌnʃain] n.日光，阳光 (初中英语单词)
- conclusion [kən´klu:ʒən] n.结束；结论；推论 (初中英语单词)
- impulse [´impʌls] n.推动(力)；冲动；刺激 (初中英语单词)
- acting [´æktiŋ] a.代理的 n.演戏 (初中英语单词)
- worthy [´wə:ði] a.有价值的；值得的 (初中英语单词)
- capable [´keipəbəl] a.有能力；能干的 (初中英语单词)
- shallow [´ʃæləu] a.肤浅的；表面的 (初中英语单词)
- departure [di´pɑ:tʃə] n.离开，出发 (初中英语单词)
- shudder [´ʃʌdə] n.&vi.震颤；发抖 (高中英语单词)
- intensity [in´tensiti] a.激烈；强度；深度 (高中英语单词)
- ballad [´bæləd] n.民歌，民谣 (高中英语单词)
- everlasting [,evə´lɑ:stiŋ] a.永久的，无尽的 (高中英语单词)
- universe [´ju:nivə:s] n.天地；全人类；银河系 (高中英语单词)
- apparently [ə´pærəntli] ad.显然，表面上地 (高中英语单词)
- nowhere [´nəuweə] n.无处；不知道 (高中英语单词)
- strove [strəuv] strive的过去式 (高中英语单词)
- painful [´peinfəl] a.痛(苦)的；费力的 (高中英语单词)
- gladly [´glædli] ad.愉快地，高兴地 (高中英语单词)
- knight [nait] n.骑士；爵士 (高中英语单词)
- violently [´vaiələntli] ad.强暴地；猛烈地 (高中英语单词)
- cunningly [´kʌniŋli] ad.狡猾地；精巧地 (高中英语单词)
- mansion [´mænʃən] n.大厦；宅第；官邸 (高中英语单词)
- reasoning [´ri:zəniŋ] n.推理，评理 a.推理的 (高中英语单词)
- decided [di´saidid] a.明显的；决定的 (高中英语单词)
- hospitality [,hɔspi´tæliti] n.好客，殷勤 (高中英语单词)
- melody [´melədi] n.悦耳的音调；乐曲 (高中英语单词)
- venerable [´venərəbəl] a.可尊敬的；森严的 (英语四级单词)
- precipice [´presipis] n.悬崖；危急的处境 (英语四级单词)
- noonday [´nu:ndei] n.正午 (英语四级单词)
- accusation [ækju:´zeiʃən] n.谴责；告发 (英语四级单词)
- monotonous [mə´nɔtənəs] a.单(音)调的 (英语四级单词)
- wayside [´weisaid] n.&a.路边(的) (英语六级单词)
- helplessly [´helplisli] ad.无能为力地 (英语六级单词)
- incessantly [in´sesntli] ad.不断地，不停地 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
京公网安备 11011202003401号
