奥兰多orlando (英文版)作者:弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙-第9章

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Methinks　it　should　be　now　a　huge　eclipse
Of　sun　and　moon；　and　that　the　affrighted　globe
Should　yawn—

Even　as　he　said　this　a　star　of　some　pallor　rose　in　his　memory。　The　night　was　dark；　it　was　pitch　dark；　but　it　was　such　a　night　as　this　that　they　had　waited　for；　it　was　on　such　a　night　as　this　that　they　had　planned　to　fly。　He　remembered　everything。　The　time　had　e。　With　a　burst　of　passion　he　snatched　Sasha　to　him；　and　hissed　in　her　ear　‘Jour　de　ma　vie！’　It　was　their　signal。　At　midnight　they　would　meet　at　an　inn　near　Blackfriars。　Horses　waited　there。　Everything　was　in　readiness　for　their　flight。　So　they　parted；　she　to　her　tent；　he　to　his。　It　still　wanted　an　hour　of　the　time。

Long　before　midnight　Orlando　was　in　waiting。　The　night　was　of　so　inky　a　blackness　that　a　man　was　on　you　before　he　could　be　seen；　which　was　all　to　the　good；　but　it　was　also　of　the　most　solemn　stillness　so　that　a　horse’s　hoof；　or　a　child’s　cry；　could　be　heard　at　a　distance　of　half　a　mile。　Many　a　time　did　Orlando；　pacing　the　little　courtyard；　hold　his　heart　at　the　sound　of　some　nag’s　steady　footfall　on　the　cobbles；　or　at　the　rustle　of　a　woman’s　dress。　But　the　traveller　was　only　some　merchant；　making　home　belated；　or　some　woman　of　the　quarter　whose　errand　was　nothing　so　innocent。　They　passed；　and　the　street　was　quieter　than　before。　Then　those　lights　which　burnt　downstairs　in　the　small；　huddled　quarters　where　the　poor　of　the　city　lived　moved　up　to　the　sleeping–rooms；　and　then；　one　by　one；　were　extinguished。　The　street　lanterns　in　these　purlieus　were　few　at　most；　and　the　negligence　of　the　night　watchman　often　suffered　them　to　expire　long　before　dawn。　The　darkness　then　became　even　deeper　than　before。　Orlando　looked　to　the　wicks　of　his　lantern；　saw　to　the　saddle　girths；　primed　his　pistols；　examined　his　holsters；　and　did　all　these　things　a　dozen　times　at　least　till　he　could　find　nothing　more　needing　his　attention。　Though　it　still　lacked　some　twenty　minutes　to　midnight；　he　could　not　bring　himself　to　go　indoors　to　the　inn　parlour；　where　the　hostess　was　still　serving　sack　and　the　cheaper　sort　of　canary　wine　to　a　few　seafaring　men；　who　would　sit　there　trolling　their　ditties；　and　telling　their　stories　of　Drake；　Hawkins；　and　Grenville；　till　they　toppled　off　the　benches　and　rolled　asleep　on　the　sanded　floor。　The　darkness　was　more　passionate　to　his　swollen　and　violent　heart。　He　listened　to　every　footfall；　speculated　on　every　sound。　Each　drunken　shout　and　each　wail　from　some　poor　wretch　laid　in　the　straw　or　in　other　distress　cut　his　heart　to　the　quick；　as　if　it　boded　ill　omen　to　his　venture。　Yet；　he　had　no　fear　for　Sasha。　Her　courage　made　nothing　of　the　adventure。　She　would　e　alone；　in　her　cloak　and　trousers；　booted　like　a　man。　Light　as　her　footfall　was；　it　would　hardly　be　heard；　even　in　this　silence。

So　he　waited　in　the　darkness。　Suddenly　he　was　struck　in　the　face　by　a　blow；　soft；　yet　heavy；　on　the　side　of　his　cheek。　So　strung　with　expectation　was　he；　that　he　started　and　put　his　hand　to　his　sword。　The　blow　was　repeated　a　dozen　times　on　forehead　and　cheek。　The　dry　frost　had　lasted　so　long　that　it　took　him　a　minute　to　realize　that　these　were　raindrops　falling；　the　blows　were　the　blows　of　the　rain。　At　first；　they　fell　slowly；　deliberately；　one　by　one。　But　soon　the　six　drops　became　sixty；　then　six　hundred；　then　ran　themselves　together　in　a　steady　spout　of　water。　It　was　as　if　the　hard　and　consolidated　sky　poured　itself　forth　in　one　profuse　fountain。　In　the　space　of　five　minutes　Orlando　was　soaked　to　the　skin。

Hastily　putting　the　horses　under　cover；　he　sought　shelter　beneath　the　lintel　of　the　door　whence　he　could　still　observe　the　courtyard。　The　air　was　thicker　now　than　ever；　and　such　a　steaming　and　droning　rose　from　the　downpour　that　no　footfall　of　man　or　beast　could　be　heard　above　it。　The　roads；　pitted　as　they　were　with　great　holes；　would　be　under　water　and　perhaps　impassable。　But　of　what　effect　this　would　have　upon　their　flight　he　scarcely　thought。　All　his　senses　were　bent　upon　gazing　along　the　cobbled　pathway—gleaming　in　the　light　of　the　lantern—for　Sasha’s　ing。　Sometimes；　in　the　darkness；　he　seemed　to　see　her　wrapped　about　with　rain　strokes。　But　the　phantom　vanished。　Suddenly；　with　an　awful　and　ominous　voice；　a　voice　full　of　horror　and　alarm　which　raised　every　hair　of　anguish　in　Orlando’s　soul；　St　Paul’s　struck　the　first　stroke　of　midnight。　Four　times　more　it　struck　remorselessly。　With　the　superstition　of　a　lover；　Orlando　had　made　out　that　it　was　on　the　sixth　stroke　that　she　would　e。　But　the　sixth　stroke　echoed　away；　and　the　seventh　came　and　the　eighth；　and　to　his　apprehensive　mind　they　seemed　notes　first　heralding　and　then　proclaiming　death　and　disaster。　When　the　twelfth　struck　he　knew　that　his　doom　was　sealed。　It　was　useless　for　the　rational　part　of　him　to　reason；　she　might　be　late；　she　might　be　prevented；　she　might　have　missed　her　way。　The　passionate　and　feeling　heart　of　Orlando　knew　the　truth。　Other　clocks　struck；　jangling　one　after　another。　The　whole　world　seemed　to　ring　with　the　news　of　her　deceit　and　his　derision。　The　old　suspicions　subterraneously　at　work　in　him　rushed　forth　from　concealment　openly。　He　was　bitten　by　a　swarm　of　snakes；　each　more　poisonous　than　the　last。　He　stood　in　the　doorway　in　the　tremendous　rain　without　moving。　As　the　minutes　passed；　he　sagged　a　little　at　the　knees。　The　downpour　rushed　on。　In　the　thick　of　it；　great　guns　seemed　to　boom。　Huge　noises　as　of　the　tearing　and　rending　of　oak　trees　could　be　heard。　There　were　also　wild　cries　and　terrible　inhuman　groanings。　But　Orlando　stood　there　immovable　till　Paul’s　clock　struck　two；　and　then；　crying　aloud　with　an　awful　irony；　and　all　his　teeth　showing；　‘Jour　de　ma　vie！’　he　dashed　the　lantern　to　the　ground；　mounted　his　horse　and　galloped　he　knew　not　where。

Some　blind　instinct；　for　he　was　past　reasoning；　must　have　driven　him　to　take　the　river　bank　in　the　direction　of　the　sea。　For　when　the　dawn　broke；　which　it　did　with　unusual　suddenness；　the　sky　turning　a　pale　yellow　and　the　rain　almost　ceasing；　he　found　himself　on　the　banks　of　the　Thames　off　Wapping。　Now　a　sight　of　the　most　extraordinary　nature　met　his　eyes。　Where；　for　three　months　and　more；　there　had　been　solid　ice　of　such　thickness　that　it　seemed　permanent　as　stone；　and　a　whole　gay　city　had　been　stood　on　its　pavement；　was　now　a　race　of　turbulent　yellow　waters。　The　river　had　gained　its　freedom　in　the　night。　It　was　as　if　a　sulphur　spring　（to　which　view　many　philosophers　inclined）　had　risen　from　the　volcanic　regions　beneath　and　burst　the　ice　asunder　with　such　vehemence　that　it　swept　the　huge　and　massy　fragments　furiously　apart。　The　mere　look　of　the　water　was　enough　to　turn　one　giddy。　All　was　riot　and　confusion。　The　river　was　strewn　with　icebergs。　Some　of　these　were　as　broad　as　a　bowling　green　and　as　high　as　a　house；　others　no　bigger　than　a　man’s　hat；　but　most　fantastically　twisted。　Now　would　e　down　a　whole　convoy　of　ice　blocks　sinking　everything　that　stood　in　their　way。　Now；　eddying　and　swirling　like　a　tortured　serpent；　the　river　would　seem　to　be　hurtling　itself　between　the　fragments　and　tossing　them　from　bank　to　bank；　so　that　they　could　be　heard　smashing　against　the　piers　and　pillars。　But　what　was　the　most　awful　and　inspiring　of　terror　was　the　sight　of　the　human　creatures　who　had　been　trapped　in　the　night　and　now　paced　their　twisting　and　precarious　islands　in　the　utmost　agony　of　spirit。　Whether　they　jumped　into　the　flood　or　stayed　on　the　ice　their　doom　was　certain。　Sometimes　quite　a　cluster　of　these　poor　creatures　would　e　down　together；　some　on　their　knees；　others　suckling　their　babies。　One　old　man　seemed　to　be　reading　aloud　from　a　holy　book。　At　other　times；　and　his　fate　perhaps　was　the　most　dreadful；　a　solitary　wretch　would　stride　his　narrow　tenement　alone。　As　they　swept　out　to　sea；　some　could　be　heard　crying　vainly　for　help；　making　wild　promises　to　amend　their　ways；　confessing　their　sins　and　vowing　altars　and　wealth　if　God　would　hear　their　prayers。　Others　were　so　dazed　with　terror　that　they　sat　immovable　and　silent　looking　steadfastly　before　them。　One　crew　of　young　watermen　or　post–boys；　to　judge　by　their　liveries；　roared　and　shouted　the　lewdest　tavern　songs；　as　if　in　bravado；　and　were　dashed　against　a　tree　and　sunk　with　blasphe