第8章 SCENE II.--A Garden with two Arbours(1)
- The Hunchback
- Victor Hugo
- 761字
- 2016-03-02 16:36:13
[Enter MASTER HEARTWELL and MASTER WALTER meeting.]
Heart. Good Master Walter, welcome back again!
Wal. I'm glad to see you, Master Heartwell!
Heart. How, I pray you, sped the mighty business which So sudden called you hence?
Wal. Weighty, indeed!
What thou wouldst ne'er expect--wilt scarce believe!
Long-hidden wrong, wondrously come to light, And great right done! But more of this anon.
Now of my ward discourse! Likes she the town?
How does she? Is she well? Canst match me her Among your city maids?
Heart. Nor court ones neither!
She far outstrips them all!
Wal. I knew she would.
What else could follow in a maid so bred?
A pure mind, Master Heartwell!--not a taint From intercourse with the distempered town;With which all contact was walled out, until, Matured in soundness, I could trust her to it, And sleep amidst infection!
Heart. Master Walter!
Wal. Well?
Heart. Tell me, prithee, which is likelier To plough a sea in safety?--he that's wont To sail in it,--or he that by the chart Is master of its soundings, bearings,--knows Is headlands, havens, currents--where 'tis bold, And where behoves to keep a good look-out.
The one will swim, where sinks the other one?
Wal. The drift of this?
Heart. Do you not guess it?
Wal. Humph!
Heart. If you would train a maid to live in town, Breed her not in the country!
Wal. Say you so?
And stands she not the test?
Heart. As snow stands fire!
Your country maid has melted all away, And plays the city lady to the height;Her mornings gives to mercers, milliners, Shoemakers, jewellers, and haberdashers;Her noons, to calls; her afternoons, to dressing;Evenings, to plays and drums; and nights, to routs, Balls, masquerades! Sleep only ends the riot, Which waking still begins!
Wal. I'm all amaze!
How bears Sir Thomas this?
Heart. Why, patiently;
Though one can see with pain.
Wal. She loves him? Ha!
That shrug is doubt! She'd ne'er consent to wed him Unless she loved him!--never! Her young fancy The pleasures of the town--new things--have caught, Anon their hold will slacken; she'll become Her former self again; to its old train Of sober feelings will her heart return;And then she'll give it wholly to the man Her virgin wishes chose!
Heart. Here comes Sir Thomas;
And with him Master Modus.
Wal. Let them pass:
I would not see him till I speak with her.
[They retire into one of the Arbours.]
[Enter CLIFFORD and MODUS.]
Clif. A dreadful question is it, when we love, To ask if love's returned! I did believe Fair Julia's heart was mine--I doubt it now!
But once last night she danced with me, her hand, To this gallant and that engaged, as soon As asked for? Maid that loved would scarce do this?
Nor visit we together as we used, When first she came to town. She loves me less Than once she did--or loves me not at all.
Mod. I'm little skilled, Sir Thomas, in the world:
What mean you now to do?
Clif. Remonstrate with her;
Come to an understanding, and, at once, If she repents her promise to be mine, Absolve her from it--and say farewell to her.
Mod. Lo, then, your opportunity--she comes -My cousin also: --her will I engage, Whilst you converse together.
Clif. Nay, not yet!
My heart turns coward at the sight of her.
Stay till it finds new courage! Let them pass.
[CLIFFORD and MODUS retire into the other Arbour.]
[Enter JULIA and HELEN.]
Helen. So, Monday week will say good morn to thee A maid, and bid good night a sober wife!
Julia. That Monday week, I trust, will never come, That brags to make a sober wife of me!
Helen. How changed you are, my Julia!
Julia. Change makes change.
Helen. Why wedd'st thou, then?
Julia. Because I promised him!
Helen. Thou lovest him?
Julia. Do I?
Helen. He's a man to love!
A right well-favoured man!
Julia. Your point's well favoured.
Where did you purchase it? In Gracechurch Street?
Helen. Pshaw! never mind my point, but talk of him.
Julia. I'd rather talk with thee about the lace.
Where bought you it? In Gracechurch Street, Cheapside, Whitechapel, Little Britain? Can't you say Where 'twas you bought the lace?
Helen. In Cheapside, then.
And now, then, to Sir Thomas! He is just The height I like a man.
Julia. Thy feather's just The height I like a feather! Mine's too short!
What shall I give thee in exchange for it?