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the canterbury pilgrims-第1部分

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THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS



The summer moon; which shines in so many a tale; was beaming over

a broad extent of uneven country。 Some of its brightest rays were

flung into a spring of water; where no traveller; toiling; as the

writer has; up the hilly road beside which it gushes; ever failed

to quench his thirst。 The work of neat hands and considerate art

was visible about this blessed fountain。 An open cistern; hewn

and hollowed out of solid stone; was placed above the waters;

which filled it to the brim; but by some invisible outlet were

conveyed away without dripping down its sides。 Though the basin

had not room for another drop; and the continual gush of water

made a tremor on the surface; there was a secret charm that

forbade it to overflow。 I remember; that when I had slaked my

summer thirst; and sat panting by the cistern; it was my fanciful

theory that Nature could not afford to lavish so pure a liquid;

as she does the waters of all meaner fountains。



While the moon was hanging almost perpendicularly over this spot;

two figures appeared on the summit of the hill; and came with

noiseless footsteps down towards the spring。 They were then in

the first freshness of youth; nor is there a wrinkle now on

either of their brows; and yet they wore a strange; old…fashioned

garb。 One; a young man with ruddy cheeks; walked beneath the

canopy of a broad…brimmed gray hat; he seemed to have inherited

his great…grandsire's square…skirted coat; and a waistcoat that

extended its immense flaps to his knees; his brown locks; also;

hung down behind; in a mode unknown to our times。 By his side was

a sweet young damsel; her fair features sheltered by a prim

little bonnet; within which appeared the vestal muslin of a cap;

her close; long…waisted gown; and indeed her whole attire; might

have been worn by some rustic beauty who had faded half a century

before。 But that there was something too warm and life…like in

them; I would here have compared this couple to the ghosts of two

young lovers who had died long since in the glow of passion; and

now were straying out of their graves; to renew the old vows; and

shadow forth the unforgotten kiss of their earthly lips; beside

the moonlit spring。



〃Thee and I will rest here a moment; Miriam;〃 said the young man;

as they drew near the stone cistern; 〃for there is no fear that

the elders know what we have done; and this may be the last time

we shall ever taste this water。〃



Thus speaking; with a little sadness in his face; which was also

visible in that of his companion; he made her sit down on a

stone; and was about to place himself very close to her side;

she; however; repelled him; though not unkindly。



〃Nay; Josiah;〃 said she; giving him a timid push with her maiden

hand; 〃thee must sit farther off; on that other stone; with the

spring between us。 What would the sisters say; if thee were to

sit so close to me?〃



〃But we are of the world's people now; Miriam;〃 answered Josiah。



The girl persisted in her prudery; nor did the youth; in fact;

seem altogether free from a similar sort of shyness; so they sat

apart from each other; gazing up the hill; where the moonlight

discovered the tops of a group of buildings。 While their

attention was thus occupied; a party of travellers; who had come

wearily up the long ascent; made a halt to refresh themselves at

the spring。 There were three men; a woman; and a little girl and

boy。 Their attire was mean; covered with the dust of the summer's

day; and damp with the night…dew; they all looked woebegone; as

if the cares and sorrows of the world had made their steps

heavier as they climbed the hill; even the two little children

appeared older in evil days than the young man and maiden who had

first approached the spring。



〃Good evening to you; young folks;〃 was the salutation of the

travellers; and 〃Good evening; friends;〃 replied the youth and

damsel。



〃Is that white building the Shaker meeting…house?〃 asked one of

the strangers。 〃And are those the red roofs of the Shaker

village?〃



〃Friend; it is the Shaker village;〃 answered Josiah; after some

hesitation。



The travellers; who; from the first; had looked suspiciously at

the garb of these young people; now taxed them with an intention

which all the circumstances; indeed; rendered too obvious to be

mistaken。



〃It is true; friends;〃 replied the young man; summoning up his

courage。 〃Miriam and I have a gift to love each other; and we are

going among the world's people; to live after their fashion。 And

ye know that we do not transgress the law of the land; and

neither ye; nor the elders themselves; have a right to hinder

us。〃



〃Yet you think it expedient to depart without leave…taking;〃

remarked one of the travellers。



〃Yea; ye…a;〃 said Josiah; reluctantly; 〃because father Job is a

very awful man to speak with; and being aged himself; he has but

little charity for what he calls the iniquities of the flesh。〃



〃Well;〃 said the stranger; 〃we will neither use force to bring

you back to the village; nor will we betray you to the elders。

But sit you here awhile; and when you have heard what we shall

tell you of the world which we have left; and into which you are

going; perhaps you will turn back with us of your own accord。

What say you?〃 added he; turning to his companions。 〃We have

travelled thus far without becoming known to each other。 Shall we

tell our stories; here by this pleasant spring; for our own

pastime; and the benefit of these misguided young lovers?〃



In accordance with this proposal; the whole party stationed

themselves round the stone cistern; the two children; being very

weary; fell asleep upon the damp earth; and the pretty Shaker

girl; whose feelings were those of a nun or a Turkish lady; crept

as close as possible to the female traveller; and as far as she

well could from the unknown men。 The same person who had hitherto

been the chief spokesman now stood up; waving his hat in his

hand; and suffered the moonlight to fall full upon his front。



〃In me;〃 said he; with a certain majesty of utterance;〃in me;

you behold a poet。〃



Though a lithographic print of this gentleman is extant; it may

be well to notice that he was now nearly forty; a thin and

stooping figure; in a black coat; out at elbows; notwithstanding

the ill condition of his attire; there were about him several

tokens of a peculiar sort of foppery; unworthy of a mature man;

particularly in the arrangement of his hair which was so disposed

as to give all possible loftiness and breadth to his forehead。

However; he had an intelligent eye; and; on the whole; a marked

countenance。



〃A poet!〃 repeated the young Shaker; a little puzzled how to

understand such a designation; seldom heard in the utilitarian

community where he had spent his life。 〃Oh; ay; Miriam; he means

a varse…maker; thee must know。〃



This remark jarred upon the susceptible nerves of the poet; nor

could he help wondering what strange fatality had put into this

young man's mouth an epithet; which ill…natured people had

affirmed to be more proper to his merit than the one assumed by

himself。



〃True; I am a verse…maker;〃 he resumed; 〃but my verse is no more

than the material body into which I breathe the celestial soul of

thought。 Alas! how many a pang has it cost me; this same

insensibility to the ethereal essence of poetry; with which you

have here tortured me again; at the moment when I am to

relinquish my profession forever! O Fate! why hast thou warred

with Nature; turning all her higher and more perfect gifts to the

ruin of me; their possessor? What is the voice of song; when the

world lacks the ear of taste? How can I rejoice in my strength

and delicacy of feeling; when they have but made great sorrows

out of little ones? Have I dreaded scorn like death; and yearned

for fame as others pant for vital air; only to find myself in a

middle state between obscurity and infamy? But I have my revenge!

I could have given existence to a thousand bright creations。 I

crush them into my heart; and there let them putrefy! I shake off

the dust of my feet against my countrymen! But posterity; tracing

my footsteps up this weary hill; will cry shame upon the unworthy

age that drove one of the fathers of American song to end his

days in a Shaker village! 〃



During this harangue; the speaker gesticulated with great energy;

and; as poetry is the natural language of passion; there appeared

reason to apprehend his final explosion into an ode extempore。

The reader must understand that; for all these bitter words; he

was a kind; gentle; harmless; poor fellow enough; whom Nature;

tossing her ingredients together without looking at her recipe;

had sent into the world with too much of one sort of brain; and

hardly any of another。



〃Friend;〃 said the young Shaker; in some perplexity; 〃thee

seemest to have met with
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