酷兔英语
    当前位置:
  1. 首页
  2. 文章
  3. 娱乐英语
  4. 原版小说
  5. 正文

Tales of Unrest-Part1_JOSEPH CONRAD (1857-1924)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

0 收藏 0 分享 0 赞

章节正文
文章总共2页
and the glitter of the sea. A strange name wakes up memories; the

printed words scent the smoky atmosphere of to-day faintly, with the



subtle and penetrating perfume as of land breezes breathing through

the starlight of bygone nights; a signal fire gleams like a jewel on



the high brow of a sombre cliff; great trees, the advanced sentries of

immense forests, stand watchful and still over sleeping stretches of



open water; a line of white surf thunders on an empty beach, the

shallow water foams on the reefs; and green islets scattered through



the calm of noonday lie upon the level of a polished sea, like a

handful of emeralds on a buckler of steel.



There are faces too--faces dark, truculent, and smiling; the frank

audacious faces of men barefooted, well armed and noiseless. They



thronged the narrow length of our schooner's decks with their

ornamented and barbarous crowd, with the variegated colours of



checkered sarongs, red turbans, white jackets, embroideries; with the

gleam of scabbards, gold rings, charms, armlets, lance blades, and



jewelled handles of their weapons. They had an independent bearing,

resolute eyes, a restrained manner; and we seem yet to hear their



soft voices speaking of battles, travels, and escapes; boasting with

composure, joking quietly; sometimes in well-bred murmurs extolling



their own valour, our generosity; or celebrating with loyal

enthusiasm the virtues of their ruler. We remember the faces, the



eyes, the voices, we see again the gleam of silk and metal; the

murmuring stir of that crowd, brilliant, festive, and martial; and we



seem to feel the touch of friendly brown hands that, after one short

grasp, return to rest on a chased hilt. They were Karain's people--a



devoted following. Their movements hung on his lips; they read their

thoughts in his eyes; he murmured to them nonchalantly of life and



death, and they accepted his words humbly, like gifts of fate. They

were all free men, and when speaking to him said, "Your slave." On his



passage voices died out as though he had walked guarded by silence;

awed whispers followed him. They called him their war-chief. He was



the ruler of three villages on a narrow plain; the master of an

insignificant foothold on the earth--of a conquered foothold that,



shaped like a young moon, lay ignored between the hills and the sea.

From the deck of our schooner, anchored in the middle of the bay, he



indicated by a theatrical sweep of his arm along the jagged outline of

the hills the whole of his domain; and the ample movement seemed to



drive back its limits, augmenting it suddenly into something so

immense and vague that for a moment it appeared to be bounded only by



the sky. And really, looking at that place, landlocked from the sea

and shut off from the land by the precipitous slopes of mountains,



it was difficult to believe in the existence of any neighbourhood. It

was still, complete, unknown, and full of a life that went on



stealthily with a troubling effect of solitude; of a life that seemed

unaccountably empty of anything that would stir the thought, touch the



heart, give a hint of the ominoussequence of days. It appeared to us

a land without memories, regrets, and hopes; a land where nothing



could survive the coming of the night, and where each sunrise, like a

dazzling act of special creation, was disconnected from the eve and



the morrow.

Karain swept his hand over it. "All mine!" He struck the deck with his



long staff; the gold head flashed like a falling star; very close

behind him a silent old fellow in a richly embroidered black jacket



alone of all the Malays around did not follow the masterful gesture

with a look. He did not even lift his eyelids. He bowed his head



behind his master, and without stirring held hilt up over his right

shoulder a long blade in a silver scabbard. He was there on duty, but



without curiosity, and seemed weary, not with age, but with the

possession of a burdensome secret of existence. Karain, heavy and



proud, had a lofty pose and breathed calmly. It was our first visit,

and we looked about curiously.



The bay was like a bottomless pit of intense light. The circular sheet

of water reflected a luminous sky, and the shores enclosing it made an






文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文
Copyright © 2023 Qeto All rights reserved.
商务合作 | 联系我们 | 关于我们 | 版权声明 | 隐私条款 | 如果智培

京ICP备05059198号-1 京公网安备 11011202003401号