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Source global Wall Street Journal     time 2022-12-17 15:00:47
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For it was this mixture in her of man and woman, one being uppermost and then the other, that often gave her conduct an unexpected turn. The curious of her own sex would argue, for example, if Orlando was a woman, how did she never take more than ten minutes to dress? And were not her clothes chosen rather at random, and sometimes worn rather shabby? And then they would say, still, she has none of the formality of a man, or a man’s love of power. She is excessively tender-hearted. She could not endure to see a donkey beaten or a kitten drowned. Yet again, they noted, she detested household matters, was up at dawn and out among the fields in summer before the sun had risen. No farmer knew more about the crops than she did. She could drink with the best and liked games of hazard. She rode well and drove six horses at a gallop over London Bridge. Yet again, though bold and active as a man, it was remarked that the sight of another in danger brought on the most womanly palpitations. She would burst into tears on slight provocation. She was unversed in geography, found mathematics intolerable, and held some caprices which are more common among women than men, as for instance that to travel south is to travel downhill. Whether, then, Orlando was most man or woman, it is difficult to say and cannot now be decided. For her coach was now rattling on the cobbles. She had reached her home in the city. The steps were being let down; the iron gates were being opened. She was entering her father’s house at Blackfriars, which though fashion was fast deserting that end of the town, was still a pleasant, roomy mansion, with gardens running down to the river, and a pleasant grove of nut trees to walk in.

From the foregoing passage, however, it must not be supposed that genius (but the disease is now stamped out in the British Isles, the late Lord Tennyson, it is said, being the last person to suffer from it) is constantly alight, for then we should see everything plain and perhaps should be scorched to death in the process. Rather it resembles the lighthouse in its working, which sends one ray and then no more for a time; save that genius is much more capricious in its manifestations and may flash six or seven beams in quick succession (as Mr Pope did that night) and then lapse into darkness for a year or for ever. To steer by its beams is therefore impossible, and when the dark spell is on them men of genius are, it is said, much like other people.

So long had he been secluded, writing and reading, that he had half forgotten the amenities of nature, which in June can be great. When he reached that high mound whence on fine days half of England with a slice of Wales and Scotland thrown in can be seen, he flung himself under his favourite oak tree and felt that if he need never speak to another man or woman so long as he lived; if his dogs did not develop the faculty of speech; if he never met a poet or a Princess again, he might make out what years remained to him in tolerable content.

她还来不及解开这个结,晚餐已摆到面前,随后是船长本人——尼古拉斯•本笃•巴托罗斯船长,一位仪表堂堂的海船船长——为她搛了一片咸牛肉,同时解开了这个结。

They rode for several days and nights and met with a variety of adventures, some at the hands of men, some at the hands of nature, in all of which Orlando acquitted herself with courage. Within a week they reached the high ground outside Broussa, which was then the chief camping ground of the gipsy tribe to which Orlando had allied herself. Often she had looked at those mountains from her balcony at the Embassy; often had longed to be there; and to find oneself where one has longed to be always, to a reflective mind, gives food for thought. For some time, however, she was too well pleased with the change to spoil it by thinking. The pleasure of having no documents to seal or sign, no flourishes to make, no calls to pay, was enough. The gipsies followed the grass; when it was grazed down, on they moved again. She washed in streams if she washed at all; no boxes, red, blue, or green, were presented to her; there was not a key, let alone a golden key, in the whole camp; as for ‘visiting’, the word was unknown. She milked the goats; she collected brushwood; she stole a hen’s egg now and then, but always put a coin or a pearl in place of it; she herded cattle; she stripped vines; she trod the grape; she filled the goat-skin and drank from it; and when she remembered how, at about this time of day, she should have been making the motions of drinking and smoking over an empty coffee-cup and a pipe which lacked tobacco, she laughed aloud, cut herself another hunch of bread, and begged for a puff from old Rustum’s pipe, filled though it was with cow dung.

他抄近道穿过一长溜儿房间和楼梯,向宴会厅跑去。这宅子方圆五英亩,宴会厅在宅子的另一端。跑到一半,在穿过仆人住的下处时,他停住了脚步。斯图克雷太太的起居室门开着,毫无疑问,她人不在屋里,肯定是拿了钥匙伺候女主人去了。但是在她的饭桌旁,坐了一个体态臃肿的男子,身边放一只大啤酒杯,面前摆了一张纸。他衣衫不整,棕色粗呢外套,轮形皱领有点儿脏。此人手拿一支笔,却并没有写什么,似乎正在脑子里翻来覆去地掂量某个想法,直到积聚起令他满意的形态和力量。他的眼珠圆圆的,迷迷蒙蒙,如纹理奇异的软玉,一动不动地盯住一个地方。他并没看见奥兰多。尽管步履匆匆,奥兰多还是蓦地站住了。难道这是个诗人? 他是不是正在作诗?告诉我,”他想说,这世上的一切,”因为他对诗人和诗,抱有极其疯狂、荒唐的过分想法。但一个人对你视而不见,只看到食人妖魔、森林之神,或许还有海底深处,你又能对他说什么呢?奥兰多呆呆地站在那里,看那人把笔夹在手指间转来转去,凝视,思考,然后急急写了几行字。那人抬起头来,奥兰多突然觉得很不好意思,赶忙拔腿就跑。他赶到宴会厅,刚好来得及惶恐地垂下头,屈膝向高贵的女王陛下呈上一只盛满玫瑰水的钵。

第二天早上,两人坐在一起吃早饭,他告诉她,他名叫马默杜克•邦斯洛普•谢尔默丁,是一位士绅。


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