第11章

类别:其他 作者:William Dean Howells字数:4777更新时间:18/12/27 08:43:26
TheyknewnoneofthehotelsinRochester,andtheyhadchosenacertainoneinrelianceupontheirhandbook。Whentheynamedit,theresteppedforthaporterofanincrediblycordialandpleasantcountenance,whotooktheirtravelling-bags,andledthemtotheomnibus。Astheywerehisonlypassengers,theportergotinsidewiththem,andseeingtheirinterestinthestreetsthroughwhichtheyrode,hedescantedinastrainofcheerfulprideuponthecity’sprosperityandcharacter,andgavethenamesofthepeoplewholivedinthefinerhouses,justasifithadbeenanOld-Worldtown,andhesomeeagerhistorianexpectingrewardforhiscommentuponit。HecastquiteaglamouroverRochester,sothatinpassingabodyofwater,borderedbyhouses,andoverlookedbyoddbalconiesandgalleries,andcrossedinthedistancebyabridgeuponwhichotherhouseswerebuilt,theyboldlydeclared,beingattheirwit’sendforacomparison,andtakenwiththeunhoped-forpicturesqueness,thatitputtheminmindofVerona。Thustheyreachedtheirhotelinalmostaspiritofforeigntravel,andverywillingtoverifythepleasantporter’sassurancethattheywouldlikeit,foreverybodylikedit;anditwaswithasuddensinkingoftheheartthatBasilbeheldpresidingovertheregistertheconventionalAmericanhotelclerk。Hewasyoung,hehadaneatmustacheandwell-brushedhair;jeweledstudssparkledinhisshirt-front,andringsonhiswhitehands;agentledisdainofthetravellingpublicbreathedfromhispersoninthemysticalodorsofIhlangihlang。Hedidnotlifthishaughtyheadtolookatthewayfarerwhomeeklywrotehisnameintheregister;bedidnotanswerhimwhenhebeggedforacoolroom;heturnedtotheboardonwhichthekeyshung,and,pluckingonefromit,slidittowardsBasilonthemarblecounter,touchedabellforacall-boy,whistledabarofOffenbach,andashewrotethenumberoftheroomagainstBasil’sname,saidtoafriendloungingnearhim,asifresumingaconversation,“Well,she’samightypootygul,anyway,Chawley!“ WhenIreflectthatthiswasatypeofthehotelclerkthroughouttheUnitedStates,thatbehindunnumberedregistersatthismomentheissnubbingtravellersintothedust,andthattheyaresufferingandperpetuatinghim,Iamlostinwonderatthenationalmeekness。NotthatIamonetorefusethehumblepiehisjeweledfingersofferme。AbjectlyItakemykey,andcreepoffupstairsafterthecall-boy,andtrytogivemyselfthegenteelairofonewhohasnotbeensteppedupon。ButI thinkhomicidalthingsallthesame,andIrejoicethatinthesafetyofprintIcancryoutagainstthedespot,whomIhavenotthepresencetodefy。“Youvulgarandcruellittlesoul,“Isay,andIimaginemyselfbreathingthewordstohisteeth,“whydoyoutreatawearystrangerwiththisignominy?IamtopaywellforwhatIget,andIshallnotcomplainofthat。Butlookatme,andownmyhumanity;confessbysomecivilaction,bysomedecentphrase,thatIhaverightsandthattheyshallberespected。Answermyproperquestions;respondtomyfairdemands。Donotslidemykeyatme;donotdenymethepoorpolitenessofanodasyougiveitinmyhand。Iamnotyourequal;fewmenare;butIshallnotpresumeuponyourclemency。Come,Ialsoamhuman!“ Basilfoundthat,forhissininaskingforacoolroom,theclerkhadgiventhemachamberintowhichthesunhadbeenshiningthewholeafternoon;butwhenhisluggagehadbeenputinitseemeduselesstoprotest,andlikeatrueAmerican,likeyou,likeme,heshrankfromassertinghimself。Whenthesunwentdownitwouldbecoolenough;andtheyturnedtheirthoughtstosupper,notventuringtohopethat,asitproved,thehandsomeclerkwasthesoleblemishofthehouse。 IsabelviewedwithinnocentsurprisetheevidencesofluxuryaffordedbyalltheappointmentsofahotelsofarwestofBoston,andtheybothbegantofeelthatnaturaleaseandsuperioritywhichaninnalwaysinspiresinitsguests,andwhichourgreathotels,farfromimpairing,enhanceinflatteringdegree;infact,theclerkonceforgotten,I protest,formyownpart,Iamnevermoreconsciousofmymeritsandrichesinanyotherplace。Onehastheretheromanceofbeingastrangerandamysterytoeveryoneelse,andlivesinthealluringpossibilityofnotbeingfoundoutamostordinaryperson。 Theyweresolateincomingtothesupper-room,thattheyfoundthemselvesaloneinit。Atthedoortheyhadabowfromthehead-waiter,whoranbeforethemanddrewoutchairsforthematatable,andsignaledwaiterstoservethem,firstlayingbeforethemwithagraciousflourishthebilloffare。 Aforceofservantsflockedaboutthem,asiftocontestthehonoroforderingtheirsupper;onesetuponthetableaheapingvaseofstrawberries,anotherflankeditwithflagonsofcream,athirdaccompanieditwithGatesofvariedflavoranddevice;afourthobsequiouslysmoothedthetable-cloth;afifth,theyoungestofthefive,withfoldedarmsstoodbyandadmiredthesatisfactiontherestweregiving。Whenthesehadbeendispatchedforsteak,forbroiledwhite-fishofthelakes,——noblestanddelicatestofthefishthatswim,——forbroiledchicken,forfriedpotatoes,formums,forwhateverthelawlessfancy,andraveningappetitesofthewayfarerscouldsuggest,thisfifthwaiterremainedtotemptthemtofurtherexcess,andvainlyproposedsomekindofeggs,——friedeggs,poachedeggs,scrambledeggs,boiledeggs,oromelette。 “O,you’resure,dearest,thatthisisn’tavisionoffairy-land,whichwillvanishpresently,andleaveusemptyandforlorn?“plaintivelymurmuredIsabel,asthemenialtrainreappeared,bearingthesuppertheyhadorderedandsetitsmokingdown。 Suddenlyalookofapprehensiondawneduponherface,andsheletfallherknifeandfork。“Youdon’tthink,Basil,“shefaltered,“thattheycouldhavefoundoutwe’reabridalparty,andthatthey’reservingussomagnificentlybecause——because——O,Ishallbemiserableeverymomentwe’rehere!“sheconcludeddesperately。 Shelooked,indeed,extremelywretchedforawomanwithsomuchbroiledwhite-fishonherplate,andsuchabanquetarrayabouther;andherhusbandmadehastetoreassureher。“You’restilldemoralized,Isabel,byoursufferingsattheAlbanydepot,andyouexaggeratetheblessingsweenjoy,thoughIshouldbesorrytoundervaluethem。Isuspectit’sthecustomtousepeoplewellatthishotel;orifwearesingledoutforuncommonfavor,Ithink:Icanexplainthecause。IthasbeendiscoveredbytheregisterthatwearefromBoston,andwearemerelymeetingthereverence,affection,andhomagewhichthenameeverywherecommands! “It’sourfortunetorepresentforthetimebeingtheintellectualandmoralvirtueofBoston。Thissupperisnotatributetoyouasabride,butasaBostonian。“ Itwasacheapkindofraillery,tobesure,butitserved。ItkindledthelocalprideofIsabeltoself-defense,andinthedistractionoftheeffortsheforgotherfears;shereturnedwithrenewedappetitetothesupper,andinitsexcellencetheybothletfalltheirdispute,——whichended,ofcourse,inBasil’sabjectconfessionthatBostonwasthebestplaceintheworld,andnothingbutbanishmentcouldmakehimliveelsewhere,——andgavethemselvesup,asusual,tothedelightofbeingjustwhatandwheretheywere。Atlast,thenaturalcoursebroughtthemtothestrawberries,andwhenthefifthwaiterapproachedfromthecornerofthetableatwhichhestood,toplacethevasenearthem,hedidnotretireatonce,butpresentlyaskediftheywerefromtheWest。 Isabelsmiled,andBasilansweredthattheywerefromtheEast。 Hefalteredatthis,asifdoubtfuloftheresultifhewentfurther,buttookheart,then,andasked,“Don’tyouthinkthisisaprettynicehotel“——hastilyaddingasaconcessionoftheprobableexistenceofmuchfinerthingsattheEast——“forasmallhotel?“ Theyimaginedthiswaiterasnewtohisstationinlife,asperhapsjustrisentoitfromsomecountrytavern,andunabletorepresshisexultationinwhatseemedtheirsympatheticpresence。Theywerecharmedtohaveinvitedhisguilelessconfidence,tohaveevokedpossiblyallthesimplepoetryofhissoul;itwaswhatmighthavehappenedinItaly,onlytheresomuchnaivetewouldhavemeantmoney;theylookedateachotherwithrapture。andBasilansweredwarmlywhilethewaiterflushedasatapersonalcompliment:“Yes,it’sanicehotel;oneofthebestIeversaw,EastorWest,inEuropeorAmerica。“ Theyroseandlefttheroom,andwerebowedoutbythehead-waiter。 “Howperfectlyidyllic!“criedIsabel。“IsthisRochester,NewYork,orisitsomevaleofArcady?Let’sgooutandsee。“ Theywalkedoutintothemoonlitcity,upanddownstreetsthatseemedverystatelyandfine,amidstaglitterofshop-windowlights;andthen,Lessoftheirownmotionthanofmereerror,theyquittedthebusinessquarter,andfoundthemselvesinaquietavenueofhandsomeresidences,—— theBeaconStreetofRochester,whateveritwascalled。Theysaiditwasanightandaplaceforlovers,fornonebutlovers,forloversnewlyplighted,andtheymadebelievetobemoanthemselvesthat,holdeachotherdearastheywould,theexaltation,thethrill,thegloryoftheiryoungerlovewasgone。Someofthehouseshadgardenedspacesaboutthem,fromwhichstole,likebreathsofsweetestandsaddestregret,theperfumeofmidsummerflowers,——thedespairoftheroseforthebud。Astheypassedacertainhouse,asongflutteredoutoftheopenwindowandceased,thepianowarbledatthefinalrushoffingersoveritschords,andtheysawherwithherfingersrestinglightlyonthekeys,andhergracefulheadliftedtolookintohis;theysawhimwithhisarmyetstretchedacrosstotheleavesofmusichehadbeenturning,andhisfaceloweredtomeethergaze。 “Ah,Basil,Iwishitwaswe,there!“ Andiftheyknewthatwe,onourweddingjourney,stoodoutside,wouldnottheywishitwasthey,here?“ “Isupposeso,dearest,andyet,once-upon-a-timewassweet。Passon; andletusseewhatcharmweshallfindnextinthisenchantedcity。“ “Yes,itisanenchantedcitytous,“musedBasil,aloud,astheywanderedon,“andallstrangecitiesareenchanted。WhatisRochestertotheRochesterese?Aplaceofahundredthousandpeople,aswereadinourguide,animmenseflourinterest,agreatrailroadentrepot,anunrivalednurserytrade,auniversity,twocommercialcolleges,threecollegiateinstitutes,eightortennewspapers,andafreelibrary。I daresayanyrespectableresidentwouldlaughatussentimentalizingoverhiscity。ButRochesterisforus,whodon’tknowitatall,acityofanytimeorcountry,moonlit,filledwithlovershoveringoverpiano- fortes,ofapalatialhotelwithpastoralwaitersandporter,——acityofhandsomestreetswraptinbeautifulquietanddreamingofthegoldenage。 TheonlydefiniteassociationwithitinourmindsisthetragicallyromanticthoughtthathereSamPatchmethisfate。“ “AndwhointheworldwasSamPatch?