第3章

类别:其他 作者:William Dean Howells字数:4823更新时间:18/12/27 08:43:26
BydaylightBasilandIsabelfoundthemselvesatoppositeendsofthecar,strugglingseverallywiththeproblemofthemorning’stoilet。Whenthecombatwasended,theyweresurprisedatthedecencyoftheirappearance,andIsabelsaid,“IthinkI’mpresentabletoanearlyBroadwaypublic,andI’veafancyfornotgoingtoahotel。Lucywillbeexpectingusouttherebeforenoon;andwecanpassthetimepleasantlyenoughforafewhoursjustwanderingabout。“ Shewasawomanwholovedanycheapdefianceofcustom,andshehadanagreeablesenseofadventureinwhatsheproposed。Besides,shefeltthatnothingcouldbemoreintheunconventionalspiritinwhichtheymeanttomaketheirwholejourneythanastrollaboutNewYorkathalf- pastsixinthemorning。 “Delightful!“answeredBasil,whowasalwayscharmedwiththesesmalloriginalities。“Youlookwellenoughforaneveningparty;andbesides,youwon’tmeetoneofyourowncriticalclassonBroadwayatthishour。 Wewillbreakfastatoneofthosegildedmetropolitanrestaurants,andthengoroundtoLeonard’s,whowillbeabletogiveusjustthreeunhurriedseconds。Afterthatwe’llpushonouttohisplace。“ Atthatearlyhourtherewerenotmanypeopleastironthewideavenuedownwhichourfriendsstrolledwhentheyleftthestation;butintheaspectofthosetheysawtherewassomethingthattoldofagreaterheatthantheyhadyetknowninBoston,andtheyweresensibleofhavingreachedamoresouthernlatitude。Theair,thoughfreshenedbytheover- night’sstorm,stillwantedthebrisknessandsparkleandpungencyoftheBostonair,whichisasdeliciousinsummerasitisterribleinwinter; andthefacesthatshowedthemselvesweresoddenfromtheyesterday’sheatandperspiration。Acorner-grocer,seatedinasortoffiercedespondencyuponakegnearhisshopdoor,hadlightlyequippedhimselfforthestruggleofthedayinthebatteredarmorofthedaybefore,andinapairofroomypantaloons,andabaggyshirtofneutraltint——perhapshehadmadeavownottochangeitwhilstthesiegeofthehotweatherlasted,——nowconfrontedtheadvancingsunlight,beforewhichthelongshadowsofthebuildingswereslowlyretiring。Amarketingmotherofafamilypausedataprovision-store,andlookingweaklyinatthewhite- apronedbutcheramonghismeatsandflies,passeswithoutanefforttopurchase。Hurriedandweariedshop-girlstrippedbyinthedraperiesthatbetrayedtheirsadnecessitytobebothfineandshabby;fromaboarding-housedoorissuedbrisklyoneofthosecoolyoungNewYorkerswhomnocircumstancescanoppress:breezy-coated,white-livened,clean,withagoodcigarinthemouth,alightcanecaughtupontheelbowofoneofthearmsholdingupthepaperfromwhichthemorning’snewsissnatched,whilstthepersonswayslightlywiththewalk;inthestreet- carsthatslowlytinkledupanddownwererowsofpeoplewithbasketsbetweentheirlegsandpapersbeforetheirfaces;andallshowedbysomepeculiarityofairordresstheexcessofheatwhichtheyhadalreadyborne,andtowhichtheyseemedtolookforward,andgavebythescantinessoftheirnumberavividimpressionoftheuncountedthousandswithindoorsprolonging,beforetheday’sterrorbegan,theoblivionofsleep。 AstheyturnedintooneofthenumericalstreetstocrosstoBroadway,andfoundthemselvesinayetdeeperseclusion,Basil-begantoutterinamusingtone: “Acityagainsttheworld’sgrayPrime,Lostinsomedesert,farfromTime,WherenoiselessAgesglidingthrough,Haveonlysiftedsandsanddew,YetstillamarbleheadofmanLyingonallthehauntedplan; ThepassionsofthehumanheartBeatingthemarblebreastofArt,WerenotmorelonetoonewhofirstUponitsgiantsilenceburst,Thanthisstrangequiet,wherethetideOflife,upheavedoneitheraide,Hangstrembling,readysoontobeatWithhumanwavestheMorningStreet。“ “Howlovely!“saidIsabel,swiftlycatchingatherskirt,anddeftlyescapingcontactwithoneofalongrowofash-barrelspostedsentinel- likeontheedgeofthepavement。“Whoseisit,Basil?“ “Ah!apoet’s,“answeredherhusband,“amanofwhomweshallonedayanyofusbegladtosaythatwelikedhimbeforehewasfamous。Whatanebuloussweetnessthefirstlineshave,andwhataclear,coollightofday-breakinthelast!“ “Youcouldhavebeenasgoodapoetasthat,Basil,“saidtheever- personalandconcretely-speakingIsabel,whocouldnotlookatamountainwithoutthinkingwhatBasilmighthavedoneinthatway,ifhehadtried。 “Ono,Icouldn’t,dear。It’sverydifficultbeinganypoetatall,thoughit’seasytobelikeone。ButI’vedonewithit;IbrokewiththeMusethedayyouacceptedme。Shecameintomyoffice,lookingsoshabby,——notunlikeoneofthosepoorshop-girls;andasIwasverywelldressedfromhavingjustbeentoseeyou,why,youknow,Ifeltthedifference。’Well,mydear?’saidI,notquitelikingthelookofreproachshewasgivingme。’Youaregroinstoleaveme,’sheansweredsadly。’Well,yes;IsupposeImust。Youseetheinsurancebusinessisveryabsorbing;andbesides,ithasabadappearance,yourcomingaboutsoinofficehours,andinthoseclothes。’’O,’shemoanedout,’youusedtowelcomemeatalltimes,outinthecountry,andthoughtmeprettilydressed。’’Yes,yes;butthisisBoston;andBostonmakesagreatdifferenceinone’sideas;andI’mgoingtobemarried,too。Come,I don’twanttoseemungrateful;wehavehadmanypleasanttimestogether,Iownit;andI’venoobjectionstoyourbeingpresentatChristmasandThanksgivingandbirthdays,butreallyImustdrawthelinethere。’Shegavemealookthatmademyheartache,andwentstraighttomydeskandtookoutofapigeonholealotofpapers,——odesuponyourcruelty,Isabel;songstoyou;sonnets,——thesonnet,amightypoorone,I’dmadethedaybefore,——andthrewthemallintothegrate。Thensheturnedtomeagain,signedadieuwithmutelips,andpassedout。Icouldhearthebottomwireofthepoorthing’shoop-skirtclickingagainsteachstepofthestairway,asshewentslowlyandheavilydowntothestreet。“ “Odon’t——don’t,Basil,“saidhiswife,“itseemslikesomethingwrong。 Ithinkyououghttohavebeenashamed。“ “Ashamed!Iwasheartbroken。Butithadtocometothat。AsIgothopefulaboutyou,theMusebecameasadbore;andmorethanonceIfoundmyselfsmilingatherwhenherbackwasturned。TheMusedoesn’tlikebeinglaughedatanymorethananotherwomanwould,andshewouldhaveleftmeshortly。No,Icouldn’tbeapoetlikeourMorning-Streetfriend。Butsee!thehumanwaveisbeginningtosprinklethepavementwithcooksandsecond-girls。“ Theywerefrowzyserving-maidsandsilent;eachsweptdownherowndoorstepsandthepavementinfrontofherownhouse,andthenknockedherbroomonthecurbstoneandvanishedintothehouse,onwhichthehandofchangehadalreadyfallen。Itwasnolongerastreetsolelydevotedtothedomesticgods,buthadbeeninvadedatmorethanonepointbythebustlingdeitiesofbusinessinsuchstreetstheirregular,inspireddoctorsanddoctressescomefirstwithinordinatedoor-plates,thenamillinerfillingtheparlorwindowwithnewbonnets;hereevenapublisherhadhunghissignbesideadoor,throughwhichthefeetofyoungladiesusedtotrip,andthefeetoflittlechildrentopatter。 Hereandtherestoodgroupsofdwellingsunmolestedasyetoutwardly; buteventhesehadacertaincarewornandguiltyair,asiftheyknewthemselvestobecheapishboarding-housesorfurnishedlodgingsforgentlemen,andweretryingtohideit。Tothesebelongedthefrowzyserving-women;tothesetherowsofash-barrels,inwhichthedecrepitchildrenandmothersofthestreetswereclawingforbitsofcoal。 BythetimeBasilandIsabelreachedBroadwaytherewerealreadysomeomnibusesbeginningtheirlongday’stravelupanddownthehandsome,tiresomelengthofthatavenue;butforthemostpartitwasempty。 Therewas,ofcourse,ahurryoffoot-passengersuponthesidewalks,buttheseweresparseanduncharacteristic,forNewYorkproperwasstillfastasleep。Thewaiterattherestaurantintowhichourfriendssteppedwassowellawareofthis,andsoperfectlyassuredtheywerenotofthecity,thathecouldnotforbearalittlepatronageofthem,whichtheydidnotresent。HebroughtBasilwhathehadorderedinbarbaricabundance,andchargedforitwithbarbaricsplendor。Itisallbutimpossiblenottowishtostandwellwithyourwaiter:Ihavemyselfbeenoftentreatedwithconspicuousrudenessbythetribe,yetIhaveneverbeenabletowithholdthe’douceur’thatmarkedmeforagentlemanintheireyes,andentitledmetotheirdishonorableesteem。Basilwasnotsuperiortothisfolly,andleftthewasterwiththeconvictionthat,ifhewasnotaNewYorker,hewasahigh-bredmanoftheworldatanyrate。 Vexedbyasenseofhisownpitifulness,thismanoftheworldcontinuedhispilgrimagedownBroadway,whicheveninthatdesertstatewasfullofacertaininterest。Troopsoflaborersstraggledalongthepavements,eachwithhisdinner-pailinhand;andinmanyplacestheeternalbuildingupandpullingdownwasalreadygoingon;cartswerestrugglinguptheslopesofvastcellars,withloadsofdistractingrubbish;herestoodthehalf-demolishedwallsofahouse,withasadvarietyofwall- papershowinginthedifferentrooms;thereclinkedthetroweluponthebrick,yonderthehammeronthestone;overheadswungandthreatenedthemarbleblockthatthederrickwasliftingtoitsplace。Asyettheseforcesofdemolitionandconstructionhadthebusinessofthestreetalmosttothemselves。 “Why,howshabbythestreetis!“saidIsabel,atlast。WhenIlanded,afterbeingabroad,IrememberthatBroadwayimpressedmewithitssplendor。“ “AhIbutyouweremerelycomingfromEuropethen;andnowyouarrivefromBurton,andarecontrastingthispoorBroadwaywithWashingtonStreet。Don’tbeharduponit,Isabel;everystreetcan’tbeaBostonstreet,youknow,“saidBasil。Isabel,herselfaBostonianofgreatintensitybothbybirthandconviction,believedherhusbandtheonlymanabletohavethoroughlybaffledthemalignityofthestarsincausinghimtobebornoutofBoston;yethesometimestrifledwithhishardlyachievedtriumph,andevenshowedanindifferencetoit,withaninsincerityofwhichtherecanbenodoubtwhatever。 “Ostuff!“sheretorted,“asifIhadanyofthatsillylocalpride! ThoughyouknowwellenoughthatBostonisthebestplaceintheworld。 ButBasil!IsupposeBroadwaystrikesusassofine,oncomingashorefromEurope,becausewehardlyexpectanythingofAmericathen。“ “Well,Idon’tknow。Perhapsthestreethassomepositivegrandeurofitsown,thoughitneedsamultitudeofpeopleinittobringoutitsbesteffects。I’llallowitsdishearteningshabbinessandmeannessinmanyways;buttostandinfrontofGraceChurch,onaclearday,——adayoflateSeptember,say,——andlookdowntheswarminglengthofBroadway,onthemovementandthenumbers,whiletheNiagararoarswelledandswelledfromthosehumanrapids,wasalwayslikestrongnewwinetome。