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波波小说>红字中英对照 > 第23部分(第1页)

第23部分(第1页)

ed the threshold。  〃A rare case!〃 he muttered。 〃I must needs look deeper into it。 Astrange sympathy betwixt soul and body! Were it only for the artssake; I must search this matter to the bottom!〃  It came to pass; not long after the scene above recorded; that theReverend Mr。 Dimmesdale; at noon…day; and entirely unawares; fell intoa deep; deep slumber; sitting in his chair; with a largeblack…letter volume open before him on the table。 It must have beena work of vast ability in the somniferous school of literature。 Theprofound depth of the ministers repose was the more remarkable;inasmuch as he was one of those persons whose sleep; ordinarily; is aslight; as fitful; and as easily scared away; as a small bird hoppingon a twig。 To such an unwonted remoteness; however; had his spirit nowwithdrawn into itself; that he stirred not in his chair; when oldRoger Chillingworth; without any extraordinary precaution; came intothe room。 The physician advanced directly in front of his patient;laid his hand upon his bosom; and thrust aside the vestment; that;hitherto; had always covered it even from the professional eye。  Then; indeed; Mr。 Dimmesdale shuddered; and slightly stirred。  After a brief pause; the physician turned away。  But; with what a wild look of wonder; joy; and horror! With what aghastly rapture; as it were; too mighty to be expressed only by theeye and features; and therefore bursting forth through the wholeugliness of his figure; and making itself even riotously manifest bythe extravagant gestures with which he threw up his arms towards theceiling; and stamped his foot upon the floor! Had a man seen old RogerChillingworth; at that moment of his ecstasy; he would have had noneed to ask how Satan ports himself; when a precious human soulis lost to heaven; and won into his kingdom。  But what distinguished the physicians ecstasy from Satans wasthe trait of wonder in it!                             XI。                   THE INTERIOR OF A HEART。  AFTER the incident last described; the intercourse between theclergyman and the physician; though externally the same; was really ofanother character than it had previously been。 The intellect ofRoger Chillingworth had now a sufficiently plain path before it。 Itwas not; indeed; precisely that which he had laid out for himself toread。 Calm; gentle; passionless; as he appeared; there alice; hitherto latent; but active now; inthis unfortunate old man; which led him to imagine a more intimaterevenge than any mortal had ever wreaked upon an enemy。 To makehimself the one trusted friend; to whom should be confided all thefear; the remorse; the agony; the ineffectual repentance; the backwardrush of sinful thoughts; expelled in vain! All that guilty sorrow;hidden from the world; whose great heart would have pitied andforgiven; to be revealed to him; the Pitiless; to him; theUnforgiving! All that dark treasure to be lavished on the very man; towhom nothing else could so adequately pay the debt of vengeance。  The clergymans shy and sensitive reserve had balked this scheme。Roger Chillingworth; however; was inclined to be hardly; if at all;less satisfied with the aspect of affairs; which Providence… using theavenger and his victim for its own purposes; and; perchance;pardoning; where it seemed most to punish… had substituted for hisblack devices。 A revelation; he could almost say; had been grantedto him。 It mattered little; for his object; whether celestial; or fromwhat other region。 By its aid; in all the subsequent relations betwixthim and Mr。 Dimmesdale; not merely the external presence; but the veryinmost soul; of the latter seemed to be brought out before his eyes;so that he could see and prehend its every movement。 He became;thenceforth; not a spectator only; but a chief actor; in the poorministers interior world。 He could play upon him as he chose。 Wouldhe arouse him with a throb of agony? The victim was for ever on therack; it needed only to know the spring that controlled the engine…and the physician knew it well! Would be startle him with sudden fear?As at the waving of a magicians wand; uprose a grisly phantom… uprosea thousand phantoms… in many shapes; of death; or more awful shame;all flocking round about tie clergyman; and pointing with theirfingers at his breast!  All this was acplished with a subtlety so perfect; that theminister; though he had constantly a dim perception of some evilinfluence watching over him; could never gain a knowledge of itsactual nature。 True; he looked doubtfully; fearfully… even; attimes; with horror and the bitterness of hatred… at the deformedfigure of the old physician。 His gestures; his gait; his grizzledbeard; his slightest and most indifferent acts; the very fashion ofhis garments; were odious in the clergymans sight; a token implicitlyto be relied on; of a deeper antipathy in the breast of the latterthan he was willing to acknowledge to himself。 For; as it wasimpossible to assign a reason for such distrust and abhorrence; so Mr。Dimmesdale; conscious that the poison of one morbid spot was infectinghis hearts entire substance; attributed all his presentiments to noother cause。 He took himself to task for his bad sympathies inreference to Roger Chillingworth; disregarded the lesson that heshould have drawn from them; and did his best to root them out。 Unableto acplish this; he nevertheless; as a matter of principle;continued his habits of social familiarity with the old man; andthus gave him constant opportunities for perfecting the purpose towhich… poor; forlorn creature that he was; and more wretched thanhis victim… the avenger had devoted himself。  While thus suffering under bodily disease; and gnawed and torturedby some black trouble of the soul; and given over to themachinations of his deadliest enemy; the Reverend Mr。 Dimmesdale hadachieved a brilliant popularity in his sacred office。 He won it;indeed; in great part; by his sorrows。 His intellectual gifts; hismoral perceptions; his power of experiencing and municatingemotion; were kept in a state of preternatural activity by the prickand anguish of his daily life。 His fame; though still on its upwardslope; already overshadowed the soberer reputations of hisfellow…clergymen; eminent as several of them were。 There were scholarsamong them; who had spent more years in acquiring abstruse lore;connected with the divine profession; than Mr。 Dimmesdale had lived;and who might well; therefore; be more profoundly versed in such solidand valuable attainments than their youthful brother。 There weremen; too; of a sturdier texture of mind than his; and endowed with afar greater share of shrewd; hard; iron; or granite understanding;which; duly mingled with a fair proportion of doctrinal ingredient;constitutes a highly respectable; efficacious; and unamiable varietyof the clerical species。 There were others; again; true saintlyfathers; whose faculties had been elaborated by weary toil among theirbooks; and by patient thought; and etherealised; moreover; byspiritual munications with the better world; into which theirpurity of life had almost introduced these holy personages; with theirgarments of mortality still clinging to them。 All that they lacked wasthe gift that descended upon the chosen disciples at Pentecost; intongues of flame; symbolising; it would seem; not the power ofspeech in foreign and unknown languages; but that of addressing thewhole human brotherhood in the hearts native language。 These fathers;otherwise so apostolic; lacked Heavens last and rarest attestation oftheir office; the Tongue of Flame。 They would have vainly sought…had they ever dreamed of seeking… to express the highest truthsthrough the humblest medium of familiar words and images。 Their voicescame down; afar and indistinctly; from the upper heights where theyhabitually dwelt。  Not improbably; it was to this latter class of men that Mr。Dimmesdale; by many of his traits of character; naturally belonged。 Tothe high mountain…peaks of faith and sanctity he would have climbed;had not the tendency been thwarted by the burden; whatever it mightbe; of crime or anguish; beneath which it was his doom to totter。 Itkept him down; on a level with the lowest; him; the man of etherealattributes; whose voice the angels might else have listened to andanswered! But this very burden it was; that gave him sympathies sointimate with the sinful brotherhood of mankind; so that his heartvibrated in unison with theirs; and received their pain into itself;and sent its own throb of pain through a thousand other hearts; ingushes of sad; persuasive eloquence。 Oftenest persuasive; butsometimes terrible! The people knew not the power that moved themthus。 They deemed the young clergyman a miracle of holiness。 Theyfancied him the mouthpiece of Heavens messages of wisdom; and rebuke;and love。 In their eyes; the very ground on which he trod wassanctified。 The virgins of his church grew pale around him; victims ofa passion so imbued with religious sentiment that they imagined itto be all religion; and brought it openly; in their white bosoms; astheir most acceptable sacrifice before the altar。 The aged membersof his flock; beholding Mr。 Dimmesdales frame so feeble; while theywere themselves so rugged in their infirmity; believed that he wouldgo heavenward before them; and enjoined it upon their children; thattheir old bones should be buried close to their young pastors holygrave。 And; all this time; perchance; when poor Mr。 Dimmesdale wasthinking of his grave; he questioned with himself whether the grasswould ever grow on it; because an accursed thing must there be buried!  It is inconceivable; the agony with which this public venerationtortured him! It was his genuine impulse to adore the truth; and toreckon all things shadow…like; and utterly devoid of weight orvalue; that had not its divine essence as the life within theirlife。 Then; what was he?… a substance?… or the dimmest of all shadows?He longed to speak out; from his own pulpit; at the full height of hisvoice; and tell the people what he was。 〃I; whom you behold in theseblack garments of the priesthood… I; who ascend the sacred desk; andturn my pale face heavenward; taking upon myself to hold munion; inyour behalf; with the Most High Omniscience… I; in whose daily lifeyou discern the sanctity of Enoch… I; whose footsteps; as you suppose;leave a gleam along my earthly track; whereby the pilgrims thatshall e after me may be guided to the regions of the blest… I;who have laid the hand of baptism upon your children… I; who havebreathed the parting prayer over your dying friends; to whom theAmen sounded faintly from a world which they had quitted… I; yourpastor; whom you so reverence and trust; am utterly a pollution anda lie!〃  More than once; Mr。 Dimmesdale had gone into the pulpit; with apurpose never to e down its steps; until he should have spokenwords like the above。 More than once; he had cleared his throat; anddrawn in the long; deep; and tremulous breath; which; when sentforth again; would e burdened with the black secret of his soul。More than once… nay; more than a hundred times… he had actuallyspoken! Spoken! But how? He had told his hearers that he wasaltogether vile; a viler panion of the vilest; the worst ofsinners; an abomination; a thing of unimaginable iniquity; and thatthe only wonder was; that they did n

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