波波小说

第21章 araby（第1页）

amesJoyce

NorthRichmondStreet，beingblind，wasaquietstreetexcetatthehourwhentheChristianBrothers&aos;Schoolsettheboysfree。Anuninhabitedhouseoftwostoreysstoodattheblindend，detachedfromitsneighboursinasquareground。Theotherhousesofthestreet，consciousofdecentliveswithinthem，gazedatoneanotherwithbrownimerturbablefaces。

Theformertenantofourhouse，ariest，haddiedinthebackdrawing-room。Air，mustyfromhavingbeenlongenclosed，hunginalltherooms，andthewasteroombehindthekitchenwaslitteredwitholduselessaers。AmongtheseIfoundafewaer-coveredbooks，theagesofwhichwerecurledanddam:TheAbbot，byWalterScott，TheDevoutCommunicant，andTheMemoirsofVidocq。Ilikedthelastbestbecauseitsleaveswereyellow。Thewildgardenbehindthehousecontainedacentralale-treeandafewstragglingbushes，underoneofwhichIfoundthelatetenant&aos;srustybicycle-um。Hehadbeenaverycharitableriest;inhiswillhehadleftallhismoneytoinstitutionsandthefurnitureofhishousetohissister。

Whentheshortdaysofwintercameduskfellbeforewehadwelleatenourdinners。Whenwemetinthestreetthehouseshadgrownsombre。Thesaceofskyaboveuswasthecolourofever-changingvioletandtowardsitthelamsofthestreetliftedtheirfeeblelanterns。Thecoldairstungusandwelayedtillourbodiesglowed。Ourshoutsechoedinthesilentstreet。Thecareerofourlaybroughtusthroughthedarkmuddylanesbehindthehouseswhereweranthegauntletoftheroughtribesfromthecottages，tothebackdoorsofthedarkdriinggardenswhereodoursarosefromtheashits，tothedarkodorousstableswhereacoachmansmoothedandcombedthehorseorshookmusicfromthebuckledharness。Whenwereturnedtothestreet，lightfromthekitchenwindowshadfilledtheareas。Ifmyunclewasseenturningthecorner，wehidintheshadowuntilwehadseenhimsafelyhoused。OrifMangan&aos;ssistercameoutonthedoorstetocallherbrotherintohistea，wewatchedherfromourshadoweeruanddownthestreet。Wewaitedtoseewhethershewouldremainorgoinand，ifsheremained，weleftourshadowandwalkedutoMangan&aos;sstesresignedly。Shewaswaitingforus，herfiguredefinedbythelightfromthehalf-oeneddoor。Herbrotheralwaysteasedherbeforeheobeyed，andIstoodbytherailingslookingather。Herdressswungasshemovedherbody，andthesoftroeofherhairtossedfromsidetoside。

EverymorningIlayonthefloorinthefrontarlourwatchingherdoor。TheblindwasulleddowntowithinaninchofthesashsothatIcouldnotbeseen。Whenshecameoutonthedoorstemyheartleaed。Irantothehall，seizedmybooksandfollowedher。Iketherbrownfigurealwaysinmyeyeand，whenwecameneartheointatwhichourwaysdiverged，Iquickenedmyaceandassedher。Thishaenedmorningaftermorning。Ihadneversokentoher，excetforafewcasualwords，andyethernamewaslikeasummonstoallmyfoolishblood。

Herimageaccomaniedmeeveninlacesthemosthostiletoromance。OnSaturdayeveningswhenmyauntwentmarketingIhadtogotocarrysomeofthearcels。Wewalkedthroughtheflaringstreets，jostledbydrunkenmenandbargainingwomen，amidthecursesoflabourers，theshrilllitaniesofsho-boyswhostoodonguardbythebarrelsofigs&aos;cheeks，thenasalchantingofstreet-singers，whosangacome-all-youaboutO&aos;DonovanRossa，oraballadaboutthetroublesinournativeland。Thesenoisesconvergedinasinglesensationoflifeforme:IimaginedthatIboremychalicesafelythroughathrongoffoes。HernamesrangtomylisatmomentsinstrangerayersandraiseswhichImyselfdidnotunderstand。Myeyeswereoftenfulloftears（Icouldnottellwhy）andattimesafloodfrommyheartseemedtoouritselfoutintomybosom。Ithoughtlittleofthefuture。IdidnotknowwhetherIwouldeverseaktoherornotor，ifIsoketoher，howIcouldtellherofmyconfusedadoration。Butmybodywaslikeaharandherwordsandgestureswerelikefingersrunninguonthewires。

OneeveningIwentintothebackdrawing-roominwhichtheriesthaddied。Itwasadarkrainyeveningandtherewasnosoundinthehouse。ThroughoneofthebrokenanesIheardtherainimingeuontheearth，thefineincessantneedlesofwaterlayinginthesoddenbeds。Somedistantlamorlightedwindowgleamedbelowme。IwasthankfulthatIcouldseesolittle。Allmysensesseemedtodesiretoveilthemselvesand，feelingthatIwasabouttoslifromthem，Iressedthealmsofmyhandstogetheruntiltheytrembled，murmuring:&aos;Olove!Olove!&aos;manytimes。

Atlastshesoketome。WhensheaddressedthefirstwordstomeIwassoconfusedthatIdidnotknowwhattoanswer。SheaskedmewasIgoingtoAraby。IforgotwhetherIansweredyesorno。Itwouldbeaslendidbazaar;shesaidshewouldlovetogo。

"Andwhycan&aos;tyou?

"Iasked。

Whileshesokesheturnedasilverbraceletroundandroundherwrist。Shecouldnotgo，shesaid，becausetherewouldbearetreatthatweekinherconvent。Herbrotherandtwootherboyswerefightingfortheircas，andIwasaloneattherailings。Sheheldoneofthesikes，bowingherheadtowardsme。Thelightfromthelamoositeourdoorcaughtthewhitecurveofherneck，lituherhairthatrestedthereand，falling，lituthehanduontherailing。Itfelloveronesideofherdressandcaughtthewhiteborderofaetticoat，justvisibleasshestoodatease。

"It&aos;swellforyou，

"shesaid。

"IfIgo，

"Isaid，

"Iwillbringyousomething。

"

Whatinnumerablefollieslaidwastemywakingandsleeingthoughtsafterthatevening!Iwishedtoannihilatethetediousinterveningdays。Ichafedagainsttheworkofschool。AtnightinmybedroomandbydayintheclassroomherimagecamebetweenmeandtheageIstrovetoread。ThesyllablesofthewordArabywerecalledtomethroughthesilenceinwhichmysoulluxuriatedandcastanEasternenchantmentoverme。IaskedforleavetogotothebazaaronSaturdaynight。Myauntwassurrised，andhoeditwasnotsomeFreemasonaffair。Iansweredfewquestionsinclass。Iwatchedmymaster&aos;sfaceassfromamiabilitytosternness;hehoedIwasnotbeginningtoidle。Icouldnotcallmywanderingthoughtstogether。Ihadhardlyanyatiencewiththeseriousworkoflifewhich，nowthatitstoodbetweenmeandmydesire，seemedtomechild&aos;slay，uglymonotonouschild&aos;slay。

OnSaturdaymorningIremindedmyunclethatIwishedtogotothebazaarintheevening。Hewasfussingatthehallstand，lookingforthehat-brush，andansweredmecurtly:

"Yes，boy，Iknow。

"

AshewasinthehallIcouldnotgointothefrontarlourandlieatthewindow。Ifeltthehouseinbadhumourandwalkedslowlytowardstheschool。Theairwasitilesslyrawandalreadymyheartmisgaveme。

WhenIcamehometodinnermyunclehadnotyetbeenhome。Stillitwasearly。Isatstaringattheclockforsometimeand，whenitstickingbegantoirritateme，Ilefttheroom。Imountedthestaircaseandgainedtheuerartofthehouse。Thehigh，cold，emty，gloomyroomsliberatedmeandIwentfromroomtoroomsinging。FromthefrontwindowIsawmycomanionslayingbelowinthestreet。Theircriesreachedmeweakenedandindistinctand，leaningmyforeheadagainstthecoolglass，Ilookedoveratthedarkhousewhereshelived。Imayhavestoodthereforanhour，seeingnothingbutthebrown-cladfigurecastbymyimagination，toucheddiscreetlybythelamlightatthecurvedneck，atthehanduontherailingsandattheborderbelowthedress。

WhenIcamedownstairsagainIfoundMrsMercersittingatthefire。Shewasanold，garrulouswoman，aawnbroker&aos;swidow，whocollectedusedstamsforsomeiousurose。Ihadtoendurethegossiofthetea-table。Themealwasrolongedbeyondanhourandstillmyuncledidnotcome。MrsMercerstoodutogo:shewassorryshecouldn&aos;twaitanylonger，butitwasaftereighto&aos;clockandsedidnotliketobeoutlate，asthenightairwasbadforher。WhenshehadgoneIbegantowalkuanddowntheroom，clenchingmyfists。Myauntsaid:

"I&aos;mafraidyoumayutoffyourbazaarforthisnightofOurLord。

"

Atnineo&aos;clockIheardmyuncle&aos;slatchkeyinthehalldoor。Iheardhimtalkingtohimselfandheardthehallstandrockingwhenithadreceivedtheweightofhisovercoat。Icouldinterretthesesigns。WhenhewasmidwaythroughhisdinnerIaskedhimtogivemethemoneytogotothebazaar。Hehadforgotten。

"Theeoleareinbedandaftertheirfirstsleenow，

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