章节正文
It was pitiful to see Cornelius, dumb with grief, and pale
from utter prostration, stretch out his head through the
iron bars of his window, at the risk of not being able to
draw it back again, to try and get a glimpse of the garden
on the left spoken of by Rosa, who had told him that its
parapet overlooked the river. He hoped that perhaps he might
see, in the light of the April sun, Rosa or the tulip, the
two lost objects of his love.
In the evening, Gryphus took away the breakfast and dinner
of Cornelius, who had scarcely touched them.
On the following day he did not touch them at all, and
Gryphus carried the dishes away just as he had brought them.
Cornelius had remained in bed the whole day.
"Well," said Gryphus, coming down from the last visit, "I
think we shall soon get rid of our scholar."
Rosa was startled.
"Nonsense!" said Jacob. "What do you mean?"
"He doesn't drink, he doesn't eat, he doesn't leave his bed.
He will get out of it, like Mynheer Grotius, in a chest,
only the chest will be a coffin."
Rosa grew pale as death.
"Ah!" she said to herself, "he is uneasy about his tulip."
And, rising with a heavy heart, she returned to her chamber,
where she took a pen and paper, and during the whole of that
night busied herself with tracing letters.
On the following morning, when Cornelius got up to drag
himself to the window, he perceived a paper which had been
slipped under the door.
He pounced upon it, opened it, and read the following words,
in a handwriting which he could scarcely have recognized as
that of Rosa, so much had she improved during her short
absence of seven days, --
"Be easy; your tulip is going on well."
Although these few words of Rosa's somewhat soothed the
grief of Cornelius, yet he felt not the less the irony which
was at the bottom of them. Rosa, then, was not ill, she was
offended; she had not been forcibly prevented from coming,
but had voluntarily stayed away. Thus Rosa, being at
liberty, found in her own will the force not to come and see
him, who was dying with grief at not having seen her.
Cornelius had paper and a pencil which Rosa had brought to
him. He guessed that she expected an answer, but that she
would not come before the evening to fetch it. He therefore
wrote on a piece of paper, similar to that which he had
received, --
"It was not my anxiety about the tulip that has made me ill,
but the grief at not seeing you."
After Gryphus had made his last visit of the day, and
darkness had set in, he slipped the paper under the door,
and listened with the most intense attention, but he neither
heard Rosa's footsteps nor the rustling of her gown.
He only heard a voice as feeble as a breath, and gentle like
a caress, which whispered through the grated little window
in the door the word, --
"To-morrow!"
Now to-morrow was the eighth day. For eight days Cornelius
and Rosa had not seen each other.
Chapter 20
The Events which took place during those Eight Days
On the following evening, at the usual hour, Van Baerle
heard some one scratch at the grated little window, just as
Rosa had been in the habit of doing in the heyday of their
friendship.
Cornelius being, as may easily be imagined, not far off from
the door, perceived Rosa, who at last was waiting again for
him with her lamp in her hand.
Seeing him so sad and pale, she was startled, and said, --
"You are ill, Mynheer Cornelius?"
"Yes, I am," he answered, as indeed he was suffering in mind
and in body.
"I saw that you did not eat," said Rosa; "my father told me
that you remained in bed all day. I then wrote to calm your
uneasiness concerning the fate of the most precious object
of your anxiety."
"And I," said Cornelius, "I have answered. Seeing your
return, my dear Rosa, I thought you had received my letter."
"It is true; I have received it."
"You cannot this time excuse yourself with not being able to
read. Not only do you read very fluently, but also you have
made marvellous progress in writing."
"Indeed, I have not only received, but also read your note.
Accordingly I am come to see whether there might not be some
remedy to restore you to health."
"Restore me to health?" cried Cornelius; "but have you any
good news to communicate to me?"
Saying this, the poor prisoner looked at Rosa, his eyes
sparkling with hope.
Whether she did not, or would not, understand this look,
Rosa answered gravely, --
"I have only to speak to you about your tulip, which, as I
well know, is the object uppermost in your mind."
Rosa pronounced those few words in a freezing tone, which
cut deeply into the heart of Cornelius. He did not suspect
what lay hidden under this appearance of indifference with
which the poor girl affected to speak of her rival, the
black tulip.
"Oh!" muttered Cornelius, "again! again! Have I not told
you, Rosa, that I thought but of you? that it was you alone
whom I regretted, you whom I missed, you whose absence I
felt more than the loss of liberty and of life itself?"
Rosa smiled with a melancholy air.
"Ah!" she said, "your tulip has been in such danger."
Cornelius trembled involuntarily, and showed himself clearly
to be caught in the trap, if ever the remark was meant as
such.
"Danger!" he cried, quite alarmed; "what danger?"
Rosa looked at him with gentle compassion; she felt that
what she wished was beyond the power of this man, and that
he must be taken as he was, with his little foible.
"Yes," she said, "you have guessed the truth; that suitor
and amorous swain, Jacob, did not come on my account."
"And what did he come for?" Cornelius anxiously asked.
"He came for the sake of the tulip."
"Alas!" said Cornelius, growing even paler at this piece of
information than he had been when Rosa, a fortnight before,
had told him that Jacob was coming for her sake.
Rosa saw this alarm, and Cornelius guessed, from the
expression of her face, in what direction her thoughts were
running.
"Oh, pardon me, Rosa!" he said, "I know you, and I am well
aware of the kindness and sincerity of your heart. To you
God has given the thought and strength for defending
yourself; but to my poor tulip, when it is in danger, God
has given nothing of the sort."
Rosa, without replying to this excuse of the prisoner,
continued, --
"From the moment when I first knew that you were uneasy on
account of the man who followed me, and in whom I had
recognized Jacob, I was even more uneasy myself. On the day,
therefore, after that on which I saw you last, and on which
you said -- "
Cornelius interrupted her.
"Once more, pardon me, Rosa!" he cried. "I was wrong in
saying to you what I said. I have asked your pardon for that
unfortunate speech before. I ask it again: shall I always
ask it in vain?"
"On the following day," Rosa continued, "remembering what
you had told me about the stratagem which I was to employ to
ascertain whether that odious man was after the tulip, or
after me ---- "
"Yes, yes, odious. Tell me," he said, "do you hate that
man?"
"I do hate him," said Rosa, "as he is the cause of all the
unhappiness I have suffered these eight days."
"You, too, have been unhappy, Rosa? I thank you a thousand
times for this kind confession."
"Well, on the day after that unfortunate one, I went down
into the garden and proceeded towards the border where I was
to plant your tulip, looking round all the while to see
whether I was again followed as I was last time."
"And then?" Cornelius asked.
"And then the same shadow glided between the gate and the
wall, and once more disappeared behind the elder-trees."
"You feigned not to see him, didn't you?" Cornelius asked,
remembering all the details of the advice which he had given
to Rosa.
"Yes, and I stooped over the border, in which I dug with a
spade, as if I was going to put the bulb in."
"And he, -- what did he do during all this time?"
"I saw his eyes glisten through the branches of the tree
like those of a tiger."
"There you see, there you see!" cried Cornelius.
"Then, after having finished my make-believe work, I
retired."
"But only behind the garden door, I dare say, so that you
might see through the keyhole what he was going to do when
you had left?"
"He waited for a moment, very likely to make sure of my not
coming back, after which he sneaked forth from his
hiding-place, and approached the border by a long
round-about; at last, having reached his goal, that is to
say, the spot where the ground was newly turned, he stopped
with a careless air, looking about in all directions, and
scanning every corner of the garden, every window of the
neighbouring houses, and even the sky; after which, thinking
himself quite alone, quite isolated, and out of everybody's
sight, he pounced upon the border, plunged both his hands
into the soft soil, took a handful of the mould, which he
gently frittered between his fingers to see whether the bulb
was in it, and repeated the same thing twice or three times,
until at last he perceived that he was outwitted. Then,
keeping down the agitation which was raging in his breast,
he took up the rake, smoothed the ground, so as to leave it
on his retiring in the same state as he had found it, and,
quite abashed and rueful, walked back to the door, affecting
the unconcerned air of an ordinary visitor of the garden."
"Oh, the wretch!" muttered Cornelius, wiping the cold sweat
from his brow. "Oh, the wretch! I guessed his intentions.
But the bulb, Rosa; what have you done with it? It is
already rather late to plant it."
"The bulb? It has been in the ground for these six days."
"Where? and how?" cried Cornelius. "Good Heaven, what
imprudence! What is it? In what sort of soil is it? It what
aspect? Good or bad? Is there no risk of having it filched
by that detestable Jacob?"
"There is no danger of its being stolen," said Rosa, "unless
Jacob will force the door of my chamber."
"Oh! then it is with you in your bedroom?" said Cornelius,
somewhat relieved. "But in what soil? in what vessel? You
don't let it grow, I hope, in water like those good ladies
of Haarlem and Dort, who imagine that water could replace
from utter prostration, stretch out his head through the
iron bars of his window, at the risk of not being able to
draw it back again, to try and get a glimpse of the garden
on the left spoken of by Rosa, who had told him that its
parapet overlooked the river. He hoped that perhaps he might
see, in the light of the April sun, Rosa or the tulip, the
two lost objects of his love.
In the evening, Gryphus took away the breakfast and dinner
of Cornelius, who had scarcely touched them.
On the following day he did not touch them at all, and
Gryphus carried the dishes away just as he had brought them.
Cornelius had remained in bed the whole day.
"Well," said Gryphus, coming down from the last visit, "I
think we shall soon get rid of our scholar."
Rosa was startled.
"Nonsense!" said Jacob. "What do you mean?"
"He doesn't drink, he doesn't eat, he doesn't leave his bed.
He will get out of it, like Mynheer Grotius, in a chest,
only the chest will be a coffin."
Rosa grew pale as death.
"Ah!" she said to herself, "he is uneasy about his tulip."
And, rising with a heavy heart, she returned to her chamber,
where she took a pen and paper, and during the whole of that
night busied herself with tracing letters.
On the following morning, when Cornelius got up to drag
himself to the window, he perceived a paper which had been
slipped under the door.
He pounced upon it, opened it, and read the following words,
in a handwriting which he could scarcely have recognized as
that of Rosa, so much had she improved during her short
absence of seven days, --
"Be easy; your tulip is going on well."
Although these few words of Rosa's somewhat soothed the
grief of Cornelius, yet he felt not the less the irony which
was at the bottom of them. Rosa, then, was not ill, she was
offended; she had not been forcibly prevented from coming,
but had voluntarily stayed away. Thus Rosa, being at
liberty, found in her own will the force not to come and see
him, who was dying with grief at not having seen her.
Cornelius had paper and a pencil which Rosa had brought to
him. He guessed that she expected an answer, but that she
would not come before the evening to fetch it. He therefore
wrote on a piece of paper, similar to that which he had
received, --
"It was not my anxiety about the tulip that has made me ill,
but the grief at not seeing you."
After Gryphus had made his last visit of the day, and
darkness had set in, he slipped the paper under the door,
and listened with the most intense attention, but he neither
heard Rosa's footsteps nor the rustling of her gown.
He only heard a voice as feeble as a breath, and gentle like
a caress, which whispered through the grated little window
in the door the word, --
"To-morrow!"
Now to-morrow was the eighth day. For eight days Cornelius
and Rosa had not seen each other.
Chapter 20
The Events which took place during those Eight Days
On the following evening, at the usual hour, Van Baerle
heard some one scratch at the grated little window, just as
Rosa had been in the habit of doing in the heyday of their
friendship.
Cornelius being, as may easily be imagined, not far off from
the door, perceived Rosa, who at last was waiting again for
him with her lamp in her hand.
Seeing him so sad and pale, she was startled, and said, --
"You are ill, Mynheer Cornelius?"
"Yes, I am," he answered, as indeed he was suffering in mind
and in body.
"I saw that you did not eat," said Rosa; "my father told me
that you remained in bed all day. I then wrote to calm your
uneasiness concerning the fate of the most precious object
of your anxiety."
"And I," said Cornelius, "I have answered. Seeing your
return, my dear Rosa, I thought you had received my letter."
"It is true; I have received it."
"You cannot this time excuse yourself with not being able to
read. Not only do you read very fluently, but also you have
made marvellous progress in writing."
"Indeed, I have not only received, but also read your note.
Accordingly I am come to see whether there might not be some
remedy to restore you to health."
"Restore me to health?" cried Cornelius; "but have you any
good news to communicate to me?"
Saying this, the poor prisoner looked at Rosa, his eyes
sparkling with hope.
Whether she did not, or would not, understand this look,
Rosa answered gravely, --
"I have only to speak to you about your tulip, which, as I
well know, is the object uppermost in your mind."
Rosa pronounced those few words in a freezing tone, which
cut deeply into the heart of Cornelius. He did not suspect
what lay hidden under this appearance of indifference with
which the poor girl affected to speak of her rival, the
black tulip.
"Oh!" muttered Cornelius, "again! again! Have I not told
you, Rosa, that I thought but of you? that it was you alone
whom I regretted, you whom I missed, you whose absence I
felt more than the loss of liberty and of life itself?"
Rosa smiled with a melancholy air.
"Ah!" she said, "your tulip has been in such danger."
Cornelius trembled involuntarily, and showed himself clearly
to be caught in the trap, if ever the remark was meant as
such.
"Danger!" he cried, quite alarmed; "what danger?"
Rosa looked at him with gentle compassion; she felt that
what she wished was beyond the power of this man, and that
he must be taken as he was, with his little foible.
"Yes," she said, "you have guessed the truth; that suitor
and amorous swain, Jacob, did not come on my account."
"And what did he come for?" Cornelius anxiously asked.
"He came for the sake of the tulip."
"Alas!" said Cornelius, growing even paler at this piece of
information than he had been when Rosa, a fortnight before,
had told him that Jacob was coming for her sake.
Rosa saw this alarm, and Cornelius guessed, from the
expression of her face, in what direction her thoughts were
running.
"Oh, pardon me, Rosa!" he said, "I know you, and I am well
aware of the kindness and sincerity of your heart. To you
God has given the thought and strength for defending
yourself; but to my poor tulip, when it is in danger, God
has given nothing of the sort."
Rosa, without replying to this excuse of the prisoner,
continued, --
"From the moment when I first knew that you were uneasy on
account of the man who followed me, and in whom I had
recognized Jacob, I was even more uneasy myself. On the day,
therefore, after that on which I saw you last, and on which
you said -- "
Cornelius interrupted her.
"Once more, pardon me, Rosa!" he cried. "I was wrong in
saying to you what I said. I have asked your pardon for that
unfortunate speech before. I ask it again: shall I always
ask it in vain?"
"On the following day," Rosa continued, "remembering what
you had told me about the stratagem which I was to employ to
ascertain whether that odious man was after the tulip, or
after me ---- "
"Yes, yes, odious. Tell me," he said, "do you hate that
man?"
"I do hate him," said Rosa, "as he is the cause of all the
unhappiness I have suffered these eight days."
"You, too, have been unhappy, Rosa? I thank you a thousand
times for this kind confession."
"Well, on the day after that unfortunate one, I went down
into the garden and proceeded towards the border where I was
to plant your tulip, looking round all the while to see
whether I was again followed as I was last time."
"And then?" Cornelius asked.
"And then the same shadow glided between the gate and the
wall, and once more disappeared behind the elder-trees."
"You feigned not to see him, didn't you?" Cornelius asked,
remembering all the details of the advice which he had given
to Rosa.
"Yes, and I stooped over the border, in which I dug with a
spade, as if I was going to put the bulb in."
"And he, -- what did he do during all this time?"
"I saw his eyes glisten through the branches of the tree
like those of a tiger."
"There you see, there you see!" cried Cornelius.
"Then, after having finished my make-believe work, I
retired."
"But only behind the garden door, I dare say, so that you
might see through the keyhole what he was going to do when
you had left?"
"He waited for a moment, very likely to make sure of my not
coming back, after which he sneaked forth from his
hiding-place, and approached the border by a long
round-about; at last, having reached his goal, that is to
say, the spot where the ground was newly turned, he stopped
with a careless air, looking about in all directions, and
scanning every corner of the garden, every window of the
neighbouring houses, and even the sky; after which, thinking
himself quite alone, quite isolated, and out of everybody's
sight, he pounced upon the border, plunged both his hands
into the soft soil, took a handful of the mould, which he
gently frittered between his fingers to see whether the bulb
was in it, and repeated the same thing twice or three times,
until at last he perceived that he was outwitted. Then,
keeping down the agitation which was raging in his breast,
he took up the rake, smoothed the ground, so as to leave it
on his retiring in the same state as he had found it, and,
quite abashed and rueful, walked back to the door, affecting
the unconcerned air of an ordinary visitor of the garden."
"Oh, the wretch!" muttered Cornelius, wiping the cold sweat
from his brow. "Oh, the wretch! I guessed his intentions.
But the bulb, Rosa; what have you done with it? It is
already rather late to plant it."
"The bulb? It has been in the ground for these six days."
"Where? and how?" cried Cornelius. "Good Heaven, what
imprudence! What is it? In what sort of soil is it? It what
aspect? Good or bad? Is there no risk of having it filched
by that detestable Jacob?"
"There is no danger of its being stolen," said Rosa, "unless
Jacob will force the door of my chamber."
"Oh! then it is with you in your bedroom?" said Cornelius,
somewhat relieved. "But in what soil? in what vessel? You
don't let it grow, I hope, in water like those good ladies
of Haarlem and Dort, who imagine that water could replace
- glimpse [glimps]
n.&v.瞥见 (初中英语单词) - spoken [´spəukən] speak的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- handwriting [´hænd,raitiŋ] n.笔迹；书法 (初中英语单词)
- anxiety [æŋ´zaiəti] n.挂念；渴望；焦虑的事 (初中英语单词)
- feeble [´fi:bəl] a.虚弱的，无力的 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- scratch [skrætʃ] v.&n.抓，搔；抓伤 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- suffering [´sʌfəriŋ] n.痛苦；灾害 (初中英语单词)
- restore [ri´stɔ:] vt.(使)恢复；修复 (初中英语单词)
- gravely [´greivli] ad.庄重地，严肃地 (初中英语单词)
- hidden [´hid(ə)n] hide 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- absence [´æbsəns] n.不在，缺席；缺乏 (初中英语单词)
- pardon [´pɑ:dən] n.&vt.原谅；饶恕；赦免 (初中英语单词)
- unhappy [ʌn´hæpi] a.不幸的；不快乐的 (初中英语单词)
- unfortunate [ʌn´fɔ:tʃunit] a.不幸的，运气差的 (初中英语单词)
- careless [´keəlis] a.粗心的；草率的 (初中英语单词)
- visitor [´vizitə] n.访问者；来宾；参观者 (初中英语单词)
- vessel [´vesəl] n.容器；船；脉管 (初中英语单词)
- replace [ri´pleis] vt.放回；复置；取代 (初中英语单词)
- pitiful [´pitifəl] a.可怜的；慈悲的 (高中英语单词)
- uneasy [ʌn´i:zi] a.不安的；不自在的 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- intense [in´tens] a.强烈的；紧张的 (高中英语单词)
- caress [kə´res] n.&vt.爱抚；接吻 (高中英语单词)
- concerning [kən´sə:niŋ] prep.关于 (高中英语单词)
- communicate [kə´mju:nikeit] vi.通讯；传达；传播 (高中英语单词)
- pronounced [prə´naunst] a.发出音的；显著的 (高中英语单词)
- indifference [in´difrəns] n.冷淡；无足轻重 (高中英语单词)
- melancholy [´melənkəli] n.忧郁 a.忧郁的 (高中英语单词)
- anxiously [´æŋkʃəsli] ad.挂念地；渴望地 (高中英语单词)
- fortnight [´fɔ:tnait] n.两星期 (高中英语单词)
- glisten [´glisən] vi.&n.闪烁，闪闪发光 (高中英语单词)
- handful [hændful] n.一把，少数，一小撮 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- agitation [,ædʒi´teiʃən] n.鼓动；摇动；焦虑 (高中英语单词)
- compassion [kəm´pæʃən] n.同情；怜悯 (英语四级单词)
- sincerity [sin´seriti] n.真诚；诚意 (英语四级单词)
- odious [´əudiəs] a.可憎的；丑恶的 (英语四级单词)
- forcibly [´fɔ:səbli] ad.强行地，强烈地 (英语六级单词)
- affected [ə´fektid] a.做作的；假装的 (英语六级单词)
- involuntarily [in´vɔləntərili] ad.不 自觉地 (英语六级单词)
- stratagem [´strætədʒəm] n.战略，策略，谋略 (英语六级单词)
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