第1章

类别:其他 作者:Anonymous字数:6092更新时间:18/12/22 09:18:57
byNathanielHawthorne ONAPLEASANTAFTERNOONofJune,itwasmygoodfortunetobethe companionoftwoyoungladiesinawalk。Thedirectionofourcourse beinglefttome,IledthemneithertoLegge’sHill,nortothe ColdSpring,nortotherudeshoresandoldbatteriesoftheNeck,nor yettoParadise;thoughifthelatterplacewererightlynamed,my fairfriendswouldhavebeenathomethere。Wereachedtheoutskirts ofthetown,andturningasidefromastreetoftannersand curriers,begantoascendahill,whichatadistance,byitsdark slopeandtheevenlineofitssummit,resembledagreenrampartalong theroad。Itwaslesssteepthanitsaspectthreatened。Theeminence formedpartofanextensivetractofpastureland,andwastraversed bycowpathsinvariousdirections;but,strangetotell,thoughthe wholeslopeandsummitwereofapeculiarlydeepgreen,scarceablade ofgrasswasvisiblefromthebaseupward。Thisdeceitfulverdure wasoccasionedbyaplentifulcropof“woodwax。”whichwearsthe samedarkandglossygreenthroughoutthesummer,exceptatone shortperiod,whenitputsforthaprofusionofyellowblossoms。At thatseason,toadistantspectator,thehillappearsabsolutely overlaidwithgold,orcoveredwithagloryofsunshine,even beneathacloudedsky。Butthecuriouswandereronthehillwill perceivethatallthegrass,andeverythingthatshouldnourishmanor beast,hasbeendestroyedbythisvileandineradicableweed:its tuftedrootsmakethesoiltheirown,andpermitnothingelseto vegetateamongthem;sothataphysicalcursemaybesaidtohave blastedthespot,whereguiltandfrenzyconsummatedthemost execrablescenethatourhistoryblushestorecord。Forthiswasthe fieldwheresuperstitionwonherdarkesttriumph;thehighplacewhere ourfatherssetuptheirshame,tothemournfulgazeofgenerations farremote。Thedustofmartyrswasbeneathourfeet。Westoodon GallowsHill。 Formyownpart,Ihaveoftencourtedthehistoricinfluenceofthe spot。Butitissingularhowfewcomeonpilgrimagetothisfamous hill;howmanyspendtheirlivesalmostatitsbase,andneveronce obeythesummonsoftheshadowypast,asitbeckonsthemtothe summit。Tillayearortwosince,thisportionofourhistoryhadbeen veryimperfectlywritten,and,aswearenotapeopleoflegendor tradition,itwasnoteverycitizenofourancienttownthatcould tell,withinhalfacentury,somuchasthedateofthewitchcraft delusion。Recently,indeed,anhistorianhastreatedthesubjectin amannerthatwillkeephisnamealive,intheonlydesirable connectionwiththeerrorsofourancestry,byconvertingthehill oftheirdisgraceintoanhonorablemonumentofhisownantiquarian lore,andofthatbetterwisdom,whichdrawsthemoralwhileit tellsthetale。Butweareapeopleofthepresent,andhaveno heartfeltinterestintheoldentime。EveryfifthofNovember,in commemorationoftheyknownotwhat,orratherwithoutanidea beyondthemomentaryblaze,theyoungmenscarethetownwithbonfires onthishauntedheight,butneverdreamofpayingfuneralhonorsto thosewhodiedsowrongfully,and,withoutacoffinoraprayer, wereburiedhere。 Thoughwithfemininesusceptibility,mycompanionscaughtallthe melancholyassociationsofthescene,yetthesecouldbut imperfectlyovercomethegayetyofgirlishspirits。Theiremotions cameandwentwithquickvicissitude,andsometimescombinedtoforma peculiaranddeliciousexcitement,themirthbrighteningthegloom intoasunnyshoweroffeeling,andarainbowinthemind。Myownmore sombremoodwastingedbytheirs。Withnowamerrywordandnextasad one,wetrodamongthetangledweeds,andalmosthopedthatourfeet wouldsinkintothehollowofawitch’sgrave。Suchvestigeswereto befoundwithinthememoryofman,buthavevanishednow,andwith them,Ibelieve,alltracesoftheprecisespotoftheexecutions。 Onthelongandbroadridgeoftheeminence,thereisnovery decidedelevationofanyonepoint,norotherprominentmarks, exceptthedecayedstumpsoftwotrees,standingneareachother, andhereandtheretherockysubstanceofthehill,peepingjustabove thewoodwax。 Therearefewsuchprospectsoftownandvillage,woodlandand cultivatedfield,steeplesandcountryseats,aswebeheldfromthis unhappyspot。NoblighthadfallenonoldEssex;allwasprosperity andriches,healthfullydistributed。Beforeuslayournativetown, extendingfromthefootofthehilltotheharbor,levelasachess boardembracedbytwoarmsofthesea,andfillingthewholepeninsula withacloseassemblageofwoodenroofs,overtoppedbymanyaspire, andintermixedwithfrequentheapsofverdure,wheretreesthrewup theirshadefromunseentrunks。Beyondwasthebayanditsislands, almosttheonlyobjects,inacountryunmarkedbystrongnatural features,onwhichtimeandhumantoilhadproducednochange。 Retainingtheseportionsofthescene,andalsothepeacefulgloryand tendergloomofthedecliningsun,wethrew,inimagination,aveilof deepforestovertheland,andpicturedafewscatteredvillages, andthisoldtownitselfavillage,aswhentheprinceofhellbore swaythere。Theideathusgainedofitsformeraspect,itsquaint edificesstandingfarapart,withpeakedroofsandprojectingstories, anditssinglemeeting-housepointingupatallspireinthemidst; thevision,inshort,ofthetownin1692,servedtointroducea wondroustaleofthoseoldtimes。 Ihadbroughtthemanuscriptinmypocket。Itwasoneofaseries writtenyearsago,whenmypen,nowsluggishandperhapsfeeble, becauseIhavenotmuchtohopeorfear,wasdrivenbystronger externalmotives,andamorepassionateimpulsewithin,thanIam fatedtofeelagain。Threeorfourofthesetaleshadappearedin the“Token。”afteralongtimeandvariousadventures,buthad encumberedmewithnotroublesomenotoriety,eveninmybirthplace。 Onegreatheaphadmetabrighterdestiny:theyhadfedtheflames; thoughtsmeanttodelighttheworldandendureforageshadperished inamoment,andstirrednotasingleheartbutmine。Thestorynowto beintroduced,andanother,chancedtobeinkindercustodyatthe time,andthus,bynoconspicuousmeritsoftheirown,escaped destruction。 Theladies,inconsiderationthatIhadneverbeforeintrudedmy performancesonthem,byanybutthelegitimatemedium,throughthe press,consentedtohearmeread。Imadethemsitdownonamoss-grown rock,closebythespotwherewechosetobelievethatthedeath treehadstood。Afteralittlehesitationonmypart,causedbya dreadofrenewingmyacquaintancewithfantasiesthathadlosttheir charmintheceaselessfluxofmind,Ibeganthetale,whichopened darklywiththediscoveryofamurder。 Ahundredyears,andnearlyhalfthattime,haveelapsedsince thebodyofamurderedmanwasfound,ataboutthedistanceofthree miles,ontheoldroadtoBoston。Helayinasolitaryspot,onthe bankofasmalllake,whichtheseverefrostofDecemberhadcovered withasheetofice。Beneaththis,itseemedtohavebeenthe intentionofthemurderertoconcealhisvictiminachilland waterygrave,theicebeingdeeplyhacked,perhapswiththeweapon thathadslainhim,thoughitssoliditywastoostubbornforthe patienceofamanwithblooduponhishand。Thecorpsetherefore reclinedontheearth,butwasseparatedfromtheroadbyathick growthofdwarfpines。Therehadbeenaslightfallofsnowduringthe night,andasifnaturewereshockedatthedeed,andstrovetohide itwithherfrozentears,alittledriftedheaphadpartlyburied thebody,andlaydeepestoverthepaledeadface。Anearlytraveller, whosedoghadledhimtothespot,venturedtouncoverthefeatures, butwasaffrightedbytheirexpression。Alookofevilandscornful triumphhadhardenedonthem,andmadedeathsolife-likeandso terrible,thatthebeholderatoncetookflight,asswiftlyasif thestiffenedcorpsewouldriseupandfollow。 Ireadon,andidentifiedthebodyasthatofayoungman,a strangerinthecountry,butresidentduringseveralpreceding monthsinthetownwhichlayatourfeet。Thestorydescribed,atsome length,theexcitementcausedbythemurder,theunavailingquest aftertheperpetrator,thefuneralceremonies,andothercommonplace matters,inthecourseofwhich,Ibroughtforwardthepersonages whoweretomoveamongthesucceedingevents。Theywerebutthree。A youngmanandhissister;theformercharacterizedbyadiseased imaginationandmorbidfeelings;thelatter,beautifulandvirtuous, andinstillingsomethingofherownexcellenceintothewildheart ofherbrother,butnotenoughtocurethedeeptaintofhisnature。 Thethirdpersonwasawizard;asmall,gray,witheredman,with fiendishingenuityindevisingevil,andsuperhumanpowertoexecute it,butsenselessasanidiotandfeeblerthanachildtoallbetter purposes。Thecentralsceneofthestorywasaninterviewbetweenthis wretchandLeonardDoane,inthewizard’shut,situatedbeneatha rangeofrocksatsomedistancefromthetown。Theysatbesidea smoulderingfire,whileatempestofwintryrainwasbeatingonthe roof。Theyoungmanspokeoftheclosenessofthetiewhichunitedhim andAlice,theconsecratedfervoroftheiraffectionfromchildhood upwards,theirsenseoflonelysufficiencytoeachother,becausethey onlyoftheirracehadescapeddeath,inanightattackbythe Indians。Herelatedhisdiscoveryorsuspicionofasecretsympathy betweenhissisterandWalterBrome,andtoldhowadistempered jealousyhadmaddenedhim。Inthefollowingpassage,Ithrewa glimmeringlightonthemysteryofthetale。 “Searching。”continuedLeonard,“intothebreastofWalterBrome,I atlengthfoundacausewhyAlicemustinevitablylovehim。Forhewas myverycounterpart!Icomparedhismindbyeachindividualportion, andasawhole,withmine。TherewasaresemblancefromwhichIshrunk withsickness,andloathing,andhorror,asifmyownfeatureshad comeandstareduponmeinasolitaryplace,orhadmetmein strugglingthroughacrowd。Nay!theverysamethoughtswouldoften expressthemselvesinthesamewordsfromourlips,provinga hatefulsympathyinoursecretsouls。Hiseducation,indeed,inthe citiesoftheoldworld,andmineinthisrudewilderness,hadwrought asuperficialdifference。Theevilofhischaracter,also,hadbeen strengthenedandrenderedprominentbyarecklessandungovernedlife, whileminehadbeensoftenedandpurifiedbythegentleandholy natureofAlice。Butmysoulhadbeenconsciousofthegermofallthe fierceanddeeppassions,andofallthemanyvarietiesofwickedness, whichaccidenthadbroughttotheirfullmaturityinhim。NorwillI denythat,intheaccursedone,Icouldseethewitheredblossomof everyvirtue,which,byahappierculture,hadbeenmadetobring forthfruitinme。Now,herewasamanwhomAlicemightlovewith allthestrengthofsisterlyaffection,addedtothatimpurepassion whichaloneengrossesalltheheart。Thestrangerwouldhavemorethan thelovewhichhadbeengatheredtomefromthemanygravesofour household-andIbedesolate!” LeonardDoanewentontodescribetheinsanehatredthathad kindledhisheartintoavolumeofhellishflame。Itappeared,indeed, thathisjealousyhadgrounds,sofarasthatWalterBromehad actuallysoughttheloveofAlice,whoalsohadbetrayedan undefinable,butpowerfulinterestintheunknownyouth。Thelatter, inspiteofhispassionforAlice,seemedtoreturntheloathful antipathyofherbrother;thesimilarityoftheirdispositionsmade themlikejointpossessorsofanindividualnature,whichcouldnot becomewhollythepropertyofone,unlessbytheextinctionofthe other。Atlast,withthesamedevilineachbosom,theychancedto meet,theytwoonalonelyroad。WhileLeonardspoke,thewizardhad satlisteningtowhathealreadyknew,yetwithtokensof pleasurableinterest,manifestedbyflashesofexpressionacrosshis vacantfeatures,bygrislysmilesandbyawordhereandthere, mysteriouslyfillingupsomevoidinthenarrative。Butwhentheyoung mantoldhowWalterBromehadtauntedhimwithindubitableproofsof theshameofAlice,and,beforethetriumphantsneercouldvanishfrom hisface,haddiedbyherbrother’shand,thewizardlaughedaloud。 Leonardstarted,butjustthenagustofwindcamedownthechimney, formingitselfintoacloseresemblanceoftheslow,unvaried laughter,bywhichhehadbeeninterrupted。“Iwasdeceived。” thoughthe;andthuspursuedhisfearfulstory。 “Itrodouthisaccursedsoul,andknewthathewasdead;formy spiritboundedasifachainhadfallenfromitandleftmefree。 Buttheburstofexultingcertaintysoonfled,andwassucceededby atorporovermybrainandadimnessbeforemyeyes,withthe sensationofonewhostrugglesthroughadream。SoIbentdownover thebodyofWalterBrome,gazingintohisface,andstrivingtomake mysoulgladwiththethought,thathe,inverytruth,laydeadbefore me。IknownotwhatspaceoftimeIhadthusstood,norhowthevision came。Butitseemedtomethattheirrevocableyearssincechildhood hadrolledback,andascene,thathadlongbeenconfusedandbroken inmymemory,arrayeditselfwithallitsfirstdistinctness。 MethoughtIstoodaweepinginfantbymyfather’shearth;bythe coldandblood-stainedhearthwherehelaydead。Iheardthe childishwailofAlice,andmyowncryarosewithhers,aswebeheld thefeaturesofourparent,fiercewiththestrifeanddistorted withthepain,inwhichhisspirithadpassedaway。AsIgazed,acold windwhistledby,andwavedmyfather’shair。ImmediatelyIstood againinthelonesome91road,nomoreasinlesschild,butamanof blood,whosetearswerefallingfastoverthefaceofhisdead enemy。Butthedelusionwasnotwhollygone;thatfacestillworea likenessofmyfather;andbecausemysoulshrankfromthefixedglare oftheeyes,Iborethebodytothelake,andwouldhaveburiedit there。Butbeforehisicysepulchrewashewn,Iheardthevoiceoftwo travellersandfled。”