第15章

Inowturnedtomyfriendthesextontomakesomefurtherinquiries， butIfoundhimsunkinpensivemeditation。Hisheadhaddeclineda littleononeside；adeepsighheavedfromtheverybottomofhis stomach；and，thoughIcouldnotseeateartremblinginhiseye， yetamoisturewasevidentlystealingfromacornerofhismouth。I followedthedirectionofhiseyethroughthedoorwhichstoodopen， andfounditfixedwistfullyonthesavorybreastoflamb，roastingin drippingrichnessbeforethefire。 Inowcalledtomindthat，intheeagernessofmyrecondite investigation，Iwaskeepingthepoormanfromhisdinner。Mybowels yearnedwithsympathy，and，puttinginhishandasmalltokenofmy gratitudeandgoodness，Ideparted，withaheartybenedictionon him，DameHoneyball，andtheParishClubofCrookedLane；—not forgettingmyshabby，butsententiousfriend，intheoil—clothhatand coppernose。 ThushaveIgivena\"tediousbrief\"accountofthisinteresting research，forwhich，ifitprovetooshortandunsatisfactory，Ican onlypleadmyinexperienceinthisbranchofliterature，sodeservedly popularatthepresentday。Iamawarethatamoreskilfulillustrator oftheimmortalbardwouldhaveswelledthematerialsIhavetouched upon，toagoodmerchantablebulk；comprisingthebiographiesof WilliamWalworth，JackStraw，andRobertPreston；somenoticeofthe eminentfishmongersofSt。Michael’s；thehistoryofEastcheap， greatandlittle；privateanecdotesofDameHoneyball，andher prettydaughter，whomIhavenotevenmentioned；tosaynothingofa damseltendingthebreastoflamb，（andwhom，bytheway，Iremarked tobeacomelylass，withaneatfootandankle；）—thewholeenlivened bytheriotsofWatTyler，andilluminatedbythegreatfireof London。 AllthisIleave，asarichmine，tobeworkedbyfuture commentators；nordoIdespairofseeingthetobacco—box，andthe \"parcel—giltgoblet，\"whichIhavethusbroughttolight，thesubjects offutureengravings，andalmostasfruitfulofvoluminous dissertationsanddisputesastheshieldofAchilles，orthefar—famed Portlandvase。 THEEND。 1819—20 THESKETCHBOOK THEBROKENHEART byWashingtonIrving Ineverheard Ofanytrueaffection，but’twasnipt Withcare，that，likethecaterpillar，eats Theleavesofthespring’ssweetestbook，therose。 MIDDLETON。 ITISacommonpracticewiththosewhohaveoutlivedthe susceptibilityofearlyfeeling，orhavebeenbroughtupinthegay heartlessnessofdissipatedlife，tolaughatalllovestories，andto treatthetalesofromanticpassionasmerefictionsofnovelists andpoets。Myobservationsonhumannaturehaveinducedmetothink otherwise。Theyhaveconvincedme，thathoweverthesurfaceofthe charactermaybechilledandfrozenbythecaresoftheworld，or cultivatedintomeresmilesbytheartsofsociety，stillthereare dormantfireslurkinginthedepthsofthecoldestbosom，which， whenonceenkindled，becomeimpetuous，andaresometimesdesolatingin theireffects。Indeed，Iamatruebelieverintheblinddeity，andgo tothefullextentofhisdoctrines。ShallIconfessit？—Ibelievein brokenhearts，andthepossibilityofdyingofdisappointedlove。Ido not，however，consideritamaladyoftenfataltomyownsex；butI firmlybelievethatitwithersdownmanyalovelywomanintoan earlygrave。 Manisthecreatureofinterestandambition。Hisnatureleadshim forthintothestruggleandbustleoftheworld。Loveisbutthe embellishmentofhisearlylife，orasongpipedintheintervalsof theacts。Heseeksforfame，forfortune，forspaceintheworld’s thought，anddominionoverhisfellow—men。Butawoman’swholelifeis ahistoryoftheaffections。Theheartisherworld：itisthereher ambitionstrivesforempire；itisthereheravariceseeksfor hiddentreasures。Shesendsforthhersympathiesonadventure；she embarksherwholesoulinthetrafficofaffection；andif shipwrecked，hercaseishopeless—foritisabankruptcyofthe heart。 Toamanthedisappointmentoflovemayoccasionsomebitter pangs：itwoundssomefeelingsoftenderness—itblastssomeprospects offelicity；butheisanactivebeing—hemaydissipatehis thoughtsinthewhirlofvariedoccupation，ormayplungeintothe tideofpleasure；or，ifthesceneofdisappointmentbetoofullof painfulassociations，hecanshifthisabodeatwill，andtakingasit werethewingsofthemorning，can\"flytotheuttermostpartsof theearth，andbeatrest。\" Butwoman’siscomparativelyafixed，asecluded，andmeditative life。Sheismorethecompanionofherownthoughtsandfeelings； andiftheyareturnedtoministersofsorrow，whereshallshelook forconsolation？Herlotistobewooedandwon；andifunhappyinher love，herheartislikesomefortressthathasbeencaptured，and sacked，andabandoned，andleftdesolate。 Howmanybrighteyesgrowdim—howmanysoftcheeksgrowpale—how manylovelyformsfadeawayintothetomb，andnonecantellthecause thatblightedtheirloveliness！Asthedovewillclaspitswingsto itsside，andcoverandconcealthearrowthatispreyingonits vitals，soisitthenatureofwomantohidefromtheworldthe pangsofwoundedaffection。Theloveofadelicatefemaleisalways shyandsilent。Evenwhenfortunate，shescarcelybreathesitto herself；butwhenotherwise，sheburiesitintherecessesofher bosom，andthereletsitcowerandbroodamongtheruinsofherpeace。 Withherthedesireofthehearthasfailed。Thegreatcharmof existenceisatanend。Sheneglectsallthecheerfulexercises whichgladdenthespirits，quickenthepulses，andsendthetideof lifeinhealthfulcurrentsthroughtheveins。Herrestisbroken— thesweetrefreshmentofsleepispoisonedbymelancholydreams— \"drysorrowdrinksherblood，\"untilherenfeebledframesinksunder theslightestexternalinjury。Lookforher，afteralittlewhile，and youfindfriendshipweepingoverheruntimelygrave，andwondering thatone，whobutlatelyglowedwithalltheradianceofhealthand beauty，shouldsospeedilybebroughtdownto\"darknessandtheworm。\" Youwillbetoldofsomewintrychill，somecasualindisposition，that laidherlow；—butnooneknowsofthementalmaladywhich previouslysappedherstrength，andmadehersoeasyapreytothe spoiler。 Sheislikesometendertree，theprideandbeautyofthegrove； gracefulinitsform，brightinitsfoliage，butwiththewormpreying atitsheart。Wefinditsuddenlywithering，whenitshouldbemost freshandluxuriant。Weseeitdroopingitsbranchestotheearth，and sheddingleafbyleaf，until，wastedandperishedaway，itfalls eveninthestillnessoftheforest；andaswemuseoverthebeautiful ruin，westriveinvaintorecollecttheblastorthunderboltthat couldhavesmittenitwithdecay。 Ihaveseenmanyinstancesofwomenrunningtowasteandself— neglect，anddisappearinggraduallyfromtheearth，almostasif theyhadbeenexhaledtoheaven；andhaverepeatedlyfanciedthatI couldtracetheirdeaththroughthevariousdeclensionsof consumption，cold，debility，languor，melancholy，untilIreached thefirstsymptomofdisappointedlove。Butaninstanceofthekind waslatelytoldtome；thecircumstancesarewellknowninthecountry wheretheyhappened，andIshallbutgivetheminthemannerin whichtheywererelated。 patriot；itwastootouchingtobesoonforgotten。Duringthetroubles inIreland，hewastried，condemned，andexecuted，onachargeof treason。Hisfatemadeadeepimpressiononpublicsympathy。Hewasso young—sointelligent—sogenerous—sobrave—soeverythingthatwe areapttolikeinayoungman。Hisconductundertrial，too，wasso loftyandintrepid。Thenobleindignationwithwhichherepelledthe chargeoftreasonagainsthiscountry—theeloquentvindicationofhis name—andhispatheticappealtoposterity，inthehopelesshourof condemnation—alltheseentereddeeplyintoeverygenerousbosom，and evenhisenemieslamentedthesternpolicythatdictatedhis execution。 Buttherewasoneheart，whoseanguishitwouldbeimpossibleto describe。Inhappierdaysandfairerfortunes，hehadwonthe affectionsofabeautifulandinterestinggirl，thedaughterofalate celebratedIrishbarrister。Shelovedhimwiththedisinterested fervorofawoman’sfirstandearlylove。Wheneveryworldlymaxim arrayeditselfagainsthim；whenblastedinfortune，anddisgrace anddangerdarkenedaroundhisname，shelovedhimthemoreardently forhisverysufferings。If，then，hisfatecouldawakenthe sympathyevenofhisfoes，whatmusthavebeentheagonyofher，whose wholesoulwasoccupiedbyhisimage！Letthosetellwhohavehad theportalsofthetombsuddenlyclosedbetweenthemandthebeing theymostlovedonearth—whohavesatatitsthreshold，asoneshut outinacoldandlonelyworld，whenceallthatwasmostlovelyand lovinghaddeparted。 Butthenthehorrorsofsuchagrave！sofrightful，sodishonored！ therewasnothingformemorytodwellonthatcouldsoothethepangof separation—noneofthosetenderthoughmelancholycircumstances， whichendearthepartingscene—nothingtomeltsorrowintothose blessedtears，sentlikethedewsofheaven，torevivetheheartin thepartinghourofanguish。 Torenderherwidowedsituationmoredesolate，shehadincurred herfather’sdispleasurebyherunfortunateattachment，andwasan exilefromthepaternalroof。Butcouldthesympathyandkind officesoffriendshavereachedaspiritsoshockedanddriveninby horror，shewouldhaveexperiencednowantofconsolation，forthe Irishareapeopleofquickandgeneroussensibilities。Themost delicateandcherishingattentionswerepaidherbyfamiliesofwealth anddistinction。Shewasledintosociety，andtheytriedbyallkinds ofoccupationandamusementtodissipatehergrief，andweanher fromthetragicalstoryofherloves。Butitwasallinvain。There aresomestrokesofcalamitywhichscatheandscorchthesoul—which penetratetothevitalseatofhappiness—andblastit，neveragainto putforthbudorblossom。Sheneverobjectedtofrequentthehauntsof pleasure，butwasasmuchalonethereasinthedepthsofsolitude； walkingaboutinasadreverie，apparentlyunconsciousoftheworld aroundher。Shecarriedwithheraninwardwoethatmockedatall theblandishmentsoffriendship，and\"heedednotthesongofthe charmer，charmheneversowisely。\" Thepersonwhotoldmeherstoryhadseenheratamasquerade。There canbenoexhibitionoffar—gonewretchednessmorestrikingand painfulthantomeetitinsuchascene。Tofinditwanderinglikea spectre，lonelyandjoyless，whereallaroundisgay—toseeit dressedoutinthetrappingsofmirth，andlookingsowanand wobegone，asifithadtriedinvaintocheatthepoorheartintoa momentaryforgetfulnessofsorrow。Afterstrollingthroughthe splendidroomsandgiddycrowdwithanairofutterabstraction，she satherselfdownonthestepsofanorchestra，and，lookingabout forsometimewithavacantair，thatshowedherinsensibilityto thegarishscene，shebegan，withthecapriciousnessofasickly heart，towarblealittleplaintiveair。Shehadanexquisitevoice； butonthisoccasionitwassosimple，sotouching，itbreathed forthsuchasoulofwretchedness，thatshedrewacrowdmuteand silentaroundher，andmeltedeveryoneintotears。 Thestoryofonesotrueandtendercouldnotbutexcitegreat interestinacountryremarkableforenthusiasm。Itcompletelywonthe heartofabraveofficer，whopaidhisaddressestoher，andthought thatonesotruetothedeadcouldnotbutproveaffectionatetothe living。Shedeclinedhisattentions，forherthoughtswereirrevocably engrossedbythememoryofherformerlover。He，however，persistedin hissuit。Hesolicitednothertenderness，butheresteem。Hewas assistedbyherconvictionofhisworth，andhersenseofherown destituteanddependentsituation，forshewasexistingonthe kindnessoffriends。Inaword，heatlengthsucceededingaining herhand，thoughwiththesolemnassurance，thatherheartwas unalterablyanother’s。 HetookherwithhimtoSicily，hopingthatachangeofscene mightwearouttheremembranceofearlywoes。Shewasanamiableand exemplarywife，andmadeanefforttobeahappyone；butnothing couldcurethesilentanddevouringmelancholythathadenteredinto herverysoul。Shewastedawayinaslow，buthopelessdecline，andat lengthsunkintothegrave，thevictimofabrokenheart。 ItwasonherthatMoore，thedistinguishedIrishpoet，composedthe followinglines： Sheisfarfromthelandwhereheryoungherosleeps， Andloversaroundheraresighing： Butcoldlysheturnsfromtheirgaze，andweeps， Forherheartinhisgraveislying。 Shesingsthewildsongsofherdearnativeplains， Everynotewhichhelovedawaking— Ah！littletheythink，whodelightinherstrains， Howtheheartoftheminstrelisbreaking！ Hehadlivedforhislove—forhiscountryhedied， Theywereallthattolifehadentwinedhim— Norsoonshallthetearsofhiscountrybedried， Norlongwillhislovestaybehindhim！ Oh！makeheragravewherethesunbeamsrest， Wheretheypromiseagloriousmorrow； They’llshineo’erhersleep，likeasmilefromthewest， Fromherownlovedislandofsorrow！ THEEND。 1819—20 THESKETCHBOOK THECHRISTMASDINNER byWashingtonIrving Lo，nowiscomeourjoyful’stfeast！ Leteverymanbejolly， Eacheroomewithyvieleavesisdrest， Andeverypostwithholly。 Nowallourneighbours’chimneyssmoke， AndChristmasblocksareburning； Theirovenstheywithbak’tmeatschoke Andalltheirspitsareturning。 Withoutthedoorletsorrowlie， Andif，forcold，ithaptodie， Wee’lebury’tinaChristmaspye， Andevermorebemerry。 WITHERS’JUVENILIA。 IHADfinishedmytoilet，andwasloiteringwithFrankBracebridge inthelibrary，whenweheardadistantthwackingsound，whichhe informedmewasasignalfortheservingupofthedinner。The squirekeptupoldcustomsinkitchenaswellashall；andthe rolling—pin，struckuponthedresserbythecook，summonedthe servantstocarryinthemeats。 Justinthisnickthecookknock’dthrice， Andallthewaitersinatrice Hissummonsdidobey； Eachservingman，withdishinhand， March’dboldlyup，likeourtrainband， Presented，andaway。**SirJohnSuckling。 Thedinnerwasservedupinthegreathall，wherethesquire alwaysheldhisChristmasbanquet。Ablazingcracklingfireoflogs hadbeenheapedontowarmthespaciousapartment，andtheflame wentsparklingandwreathingupthewide—mouthedchimney。Thegreat pictureofthecrusaderandhiswhitehorsehadbeenprofusely decoratedwithgreensfortheoccasion；andhollyandivyhadlikewise beenwreathedroundthehelmetandweaponsontheoppositewall，which Iunderstoodwerethearmsofthesamewarrior。Imustown，bytheby， Ihadstrongdoubtsabouttheauthenticityofthepaintingandarmor ashavingbelongedtothecrusader，theycertainlyhavingthestamp ofmorerecentdays；butIwastoldthatthepaintinghadbeenso consideredtimeoutofmind；andthat，astothearmor，ithadbeen foundinalumber—room，andelevatedtoitspresentsituationbythe squire，whoatoncedeterminedittobethearmorofthefamily hero；andashewasabsoluteauthorityonallsuchsubjectsinhisown household，thematterhadpassedintocurrentacceptation。Asideboard wassetoutjustunderthischivalrictrophy，onwhichwasadisplay ofplatethatmighthavevied（atleastinvariety）with Belshazzar’sparadeofthevesselsofthetemple：\"flagons，cans， cups，beakers，goblets，basins，andewers；\"thegorgeousutensilsof goodcompanionshipthathadgraduallyaccumulatedthroughmany generationsofjovialhousekeepers。BeforethesestoodthetwoYule candles，beamingliketwostarsofthefirstmagnitude；otherlights weredistributedinbranches，andthewholearrayglitteredlikea firmamentofsilver。 Wewereusheredintothisbanquetingscenewiththesoundof minstrelsy，theoldharperbeingseatedonastoolbesidethe fireplace，andtwanginghisinstrumentwithavastdealmorepower thanmelody。NeverdidChristmasboarddisplayamoregoodlyand graciousassemblageofcountenances；thosewhowerenothandsomewere， atleast，happy；andhappinessisarareimproverofyourhard—favored visage。IalwaysconsideranoldEnglishfamilyaswellworthstudying asacollectionofHolbein’sportraitsorAlbertDurer’sprints。There ismuchantiquarianloretobeacquired；muchknowledgeofthe physiognomiesofformertimes。Perhapsitmaybefromhaving continuallybeforetheireyesthoserowsofoldfamilyportraits，with whichthemansionsofthiscountryarestocked；certainitis，that thequaintfeaturesofantiquityareoftenmostfaithfullyperpetuated intheseancientlines；andIhavetracedanoldfamilynosethrougha wholepicturegallery，legitimatelyhandeddownfromgenerationto generation，almostfromthetimeoftheConquest。Somethingofthe kindwastobeobservedintheworthycompanyaroundme。Manyoftheir faceshadevidentlyoriginatedinaGothicage，andbeenmerelycopied bysucceedinggenerations；andtherewasonelittlegirlin particular，ofstaiddemeanor，withahighRomannose，andan antiquevinegaraspect，whowasagreatfavoriteofthesquire’s， being，ashesaid，aBracebridgeallover，andtheverycounterpartof oneofhisancestorswhofiguredinthecourtofHenryVIII。 Theparsonsaidgrace，whichwasnotashortfamiliarone，suchas iscommonlyaddressedtotheDeityintheseunceremoniousdays；but along，courtly，well—wordedoneoftheancientschool。Therewas nowapause，asifsomethingwasexpected；whensuddenlythebutler enteredthehallwithsomedegreeofbustle：hewasattendedbya servantoneachsidewithalargewax—light，andboreasilverdish， onwhichwasanenormouspig’shead，decoratedwithrosemary，witha lemoninitsmouth，whichwasplacedwithgreatformalityatthe headofthetable。Themomentthispageantmadeitsappearance，the harperstruckupaflourish；attheconclusionofwhichtheyoung Oxonian，onreceivingahintfromthesquire，gave，withanairofthe mostcomicgravity，anoldcarol，thefirstverseofwhichwasas follows： Caputapridefero ReddenslaudesDomino。 Theboar’sheadinhandbringI， Withgarlandsgayandrosemary。 Iprayyouallsyngemerrily Quiestisinconvivio。 Thoughpreparedtowitnessmanyoftheselittleeccentricities，from beingapprisedofthepeculiarhobbyofminehost；yet，Iconfess，the paradewithwhichsooddadishwasintroducedsomewhatperplexed me，untilIgatheredfromtheconversationofthesquireandthe parson，thatitwasmeanttorepresentthebringinginoftheboar’s head；adishformerlyservedupwithmuchceremonyandthesoundof minstrelsyandsong，atgreattables，onChristmasday。\"Ilikethe oldcustom，\"saidthesquire，\"notmerelybecauseitisstatelyand pleasinginitself，butbecauseitwasobservedatthecollegeat OxfordatwhichIwaseducated。WhenIheartheoldsongchanted，it bringstomindthetimewhenIwasyoungandgamesome—andthenoble oldcollegehall—andmyfellow—studentsloiteringaboutintheir blackgowns；manyofwhom，poorlads，arenowintheirgraves！\" Theparson，however，whosemindwasnothauntedbysuch associations，andwhowasalwaysmoretakenupwiththetextthan thesentiment，objectedtotheOxonian’sversionofthecarol；which heaffirmedwasdifferentfromthatsungatcollege。Hewenton， withthedryperseveranceofacommentator，togivethecollege reading，accompaniedbysundryannotations；addressinghimselfat firsttothecompanyatlarge；butfindingtheirattentiongradually divertedtoothertalkandotherobjects，heloweredhistoneashis numberofauditorsdiminished，untilheconcludedhisremarksinan undervoice，toafat—headedoldgentlemannexthim，whowas silentlyengagedinthediscussionofahugeplatefulofturkey。* *Theoldceremonyofservinguptheboar’sheadonChristmasdayis stillobservedinthehallofQueen’sCollege，Oxford。Iwasfavored bytheparsonwithacopyofthecarolasnowsung，andasitmaybe acceptabletosuchofmyreadersasarecuriousinthesegraveand learnedmatters，Igiveitentire。 Theboar’sheadinhandbearI， Bedeck’dwithbaysandrosemary； AndIprayyou，mymasters，bemerry Quotestisinconvivio。 Caputapridefero， Reddenslaudesdomino。 Theboar’shead，asIunderstand， Istherarestdishinallthisland， Whichthusbedeck’dwithagaygarland Letusservirecantico。 Caputapridefero，etc。 Ourstewardhathprovidedthis InhonoroftheKingofBliss， Whichonthisdaytobeservedis InReginensiAtrio。 Caputapridefero， etc。，etc。，etc。