【有声英语文学名著】爱玛 Part 3(13)
时间:2019-01-18 作者:英语课 分类:有声英语文学名著
英语课
EMMA — Volume Three
by Jane Austen
CHAPTER XIII
The weather continued much the same all the following morning; and the same loneliness, and the same melancholy 1, seemed to reign 2 at Hartfield—but in the afternoon it cleared; the wind changed into a softer quarter; the clouds were carried off; the sun appeared; it was summer again. With all the eagerness which such a transition gives, Emma resolved to be out of doors as soon as possible. Never had the exquisite 3 sight, smell, sensation of nature, tranquil 4, warm, and brilliant after a storm, been more attractive to her. She longed for the serenity 5 they might gradually introduce; and on Mr. Perry's coming in soon after dinner, with a disengaged hour to give her father, she lost no time ill hurrying into the shrubbery.—There, with spirits freshened, and thoughts a little relieved, she had taken a few turns, when she saw Mr. Knightley passing through the garden door, and coming towards her.—It was the first intimation of his being returned from London. She had been thinking of him the moment before, as unquestionably sixteen miles distant.—There was time only for the quickest arrangement of mind. She must be collected and calm. In half a minute they were together. The "How d'ye do's" were quiet and constrained 6 on each side. She asked after their mutual 7 friends; they were all well.—When had he left them?—Only that morning. He must have had a wet ride.—Yes.—He meant to walk with her, she found. "He had just looked into the dining–room, and as he was not wanted there, preferred being out of doors."—She thought he neither looked nor spoke 8 cheerfully; and the first possible cause for it, suggested by her fears, was, that he had perhaps been communicating his plans to his brother, and was pained by the manner in which they had been received.
They walked together. He was silent. She thought he was often looking at her, and trying for a fuller view of her face than it suited her to give. And this belief produced another dread 9. Perhaps he wanted to speak to her, of his attachment 10 to Harriet; he might be watching for encouragement to begin.—She did not, could not, feel equal to lead the way to any such subject. He must do it all himself. Yet she could not bear this silence. With him it was most unnatural 11. She considered—resolved—and, trying to smile, began—
"You have some news to hear, now you are come back, that will rather surprize you."
"Have I?" said he quietly, and looking at her; "of what nature?"
"Oh! the best nature in the world—a wedding."
After waiting a moment, as if to be sure she intended to say no more, he replied,
"If you mean Miss Fairfax and Frank Churchill, I have heard that already."
"How is it possible?" cried Emma, turning her glowing cheeks towards him; for, while she spoke, it occurred to her that he might have called at Mrs. Goddard's in his way.
"I had a few lines on parish business from Mr. Weston this morning, and at the end of them he gave me a brief account of what had happened."
Emma was quite relieved, and could presently say, with a little more composure,
"You probably have been less surprized than any of us, for you have had your suspicions.—I have not forgotten that you once tried to give me a caution.—I wish I had attended to it—but—(with a sinking voice and a heavy sigh) I seem to have been doomed 12 to blindness."
For a moment or two nothing was said, and she was unsuspicious of having excited any particular interest, till she found her arm drawn 13 within his, and pressed against his heart, and heard him thus saying, in a tone of great sensibility, speaking low,
"Time, my dearest Emma, time will heal the wound.—Your own excellent sense—your exertions 14 for your father's sake—I know you will not allow yourself—." Her arm was pressed again, as he added, in a more broken and subdued 15 accent, "The feelings of the warmest friendship—Indignation—Abominable scoundrel!"— And in a louder, steadier tone, he concluded with, "He will soon be gone. They will soon be in Yorkshire. I am sorry for her. She deserves a better fate."
Emma understood him; and as soon as she could recover from the flutter of pleasure, excited by such tender consideration, replied,
"You are very kind—but you are mistaken—and I must set you right.— I am not in want of that sort of compassion 16. My blindness to what was going on, led me to act by them in a way that I must always be ashamed of, and I was very foolishly tempted 17 to say and do many things which may well lay me open to unpleasant conjectures 18, but I have no other reason to regret that I was not in the secret earlier."
"Emma!" cried he, looking eagerly at her, "are you, indeed?"—but checking himself—"No, no, I understand you—forgive me—I am pleased that you can say even so much.—He is no object of regret, indeed! and it will not be very long, I hope, before that becomes the acknowledgment of more than your reason.—Fortunate that your affections were not farther entangled 19!—I could never, I confess, from your manners, assure myself as to the degree of what you felt— I could only be certain that there was a preference—and a preference which I never believed him to deserve.—He is a disgrace to the name of man.—And is he to be rewarded with that sweet young woman?— Jane, Jane, you will be a miserable 20 creature."
"Mr. Knightley," said Emma, trying to be lively, but really confused— "I am in a very extraordinary situation. I cannot let you continue in your error; and yet, perhaps, since my manners gave such an impression, I have as much reason to be ashamed of confessing that I never have been at all attached to the person we are speaking of, as it might be natural for a woman to feel in confessing exactly the reverse.— But I never have."
He listened in perfect silence. She wished him to speak, but he would not. She supposed she must say more before she were entitled to his clemency 21; but it was a hard case to be obliged still to lower herself in his opinion. She went on, however.
"I have very little to say for my own conduct.—I was tempted by his attentions, and allowed myself to appear pleased.— An old story, probably—a common case—and no more than has happened to hundreds of my sex before; and yet it may not be the more excusable in one who sets up as I do for Understanding. Many circumstances assisted the temptation. He was the son of Mr. Weston—he was continually here—I always found him very pleasant—and, in short, for (with a sigh) let me swell 22 out the causes ever so ingeniously, they all centre in this at last—my vanity was flattered, and I allowed his attentions. Latterly, however—for some time, indeed—I have had no idea of their meaning any thing.—I thought them a habit, a trick, nothing that called for seriousness on my side. He has imposed on me, but he has not injured me. I have never been attached to him. And now I can tolerably comprehend his behaviour. He never wished to attach me. It was merely a blind to conceal 23 his real situation with another.—It was his object to blind all about him; and no one, I am sure, could be more effectually blinded than myself—except that I was not blinded—that it was my good fortune—that, in short, I was somehow or other safe from him."
She had hoped for an answer here—for a few words to say that her conduct was at least intelligible 24; but he was silent; and, as far as she could judge, deep in thought. At last, and tolerably in his usual tone, he said,
"I have never had a high opinion of Frank Churchill.—I can suppose, however, that I may have underrated him. My acquaintance with him has been but trifling 25.—And even if I have not underrated him hitherto, he may yet turn out well.—With such a woman he has a chance.—I have no motive 26 for wishing him ill—and for her sake, whose happiness will be involved in his good character and conduct, I shall certainly wish him well."
"I have no doubt of their being happy together," said Emma; "I believe them to be very mutually and very sincerely attached."
"He is a most fortunate man!" returned Mr. Knightley, with energy. "So early in life—at three–and–twenty—a period when, if a man chuses a wife, he generally chuses ill. At three–and–twenty to have drawn such a prize! What years of felicity that man, in all human calculation, has before him!—Assured of the love of such a woman—the disinterested 27 love, for Jane Fairfax's character vouches 28 for her disinterestedness 29; every thing in his favour,—equality of situation—I mean, as far as regards society, and all the habits and manners that are important; equality in every point but one—and that one, since the purity of her heart is not to be doubted, such as must increase his felicity, for it will be his to bestow 30 the only advantages she wants.—A man would always wish to give a woman a better home than the one he takes her from; and he who can do it, where there is no doubt of her regard, must, I think, be the happiest of mortals.—Frank Churchill is, indeed, the favourite of fortune. Every thing turns out for his good.—He meets with a young woman at a watering–place, gains her affection, cannot even weary her by negligent 31 treatment—and had he and all his family sought round the world for a perfect wife for him, they could not have found her superior.—His aunt is in the way.—His aunt dies.—He has only to speak.—His friends are eager to promote his happiness.— He had used every body ill—and they are all delighted to forgive him.— He is a fortunate man indeed!"
"You speak as if you envied him."
"And I do envy him, Emma. In one respect he is the object of my envy."
Emma could say no more. They seemed to be within half a sentence of Harriet, and her immediate 32 feeling was to avert 33 the subject, if possible. She made her plan; she would speak of something totally different—the children in Brunswick Square; and she only waited for breath to begin, when Mr. Knightley startled her, by saying,
"You will not ask me what is the point of envy.—You are determined 34, I see, to have no curiosity.—You are wise—but I cannot be wise. Emma, I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment."
"Oh! then, don't speak it, don't speak it," she eagerly cried. "Take a little time, consider, do not commit yourself."
"Thank you," said he, in an accent of deep mortification 35, and not another syllable 36 followed.
Emma could not bear to give him pain. He was wishing to confide 37 in her—perhaps to consult her;—cost her what it would, she would listen. She might assist his resolution, or reconcile him to it; she might give just praise to Harriet, or, by representing to him his own independence, relieve him from that state of indecision, which must be more intolerable than any alternative to such a mind as his.—They had reached the house.
"You are going in, I suppose?" said he.
"No,"—replied Emma—quite confirmed by the depressed 38 manner in which he still spoke—"I should like to take another turn. Mr. Perry is not gone." And, after proceeding 39 a few steps, she added— "I stopped you ungraciously, just now, Mr. Knightley, and, I am afraid, gave you pain.—But if you have any wish to speak openly to me as a friend, or to ask my opinion of any thing that you may have in contemplation—as a friend, indeed, you may command me.—I will hear whatever you like. I will tell you exactly what I think."
"As a friend!"—repeated Mr. Knightley.—"Emma, that I fear is a word—No, I have no wish—Stay, yes, why should I hesitate?— I have gone too far already for concealment 40.—Emma, I accept your offer— Extraordinary as it may seem, I accept it, and refer myself to you as a friend.—Tell me, then, have I no chance of ever succeeding?"
He stopped in his earnestness to look the question, and the expression of his eyes overpowered her.
"My dearest Emma," said he, "for dearest you will always be, whatever the event of this hour's conversation, my dearest, most beloved Emma—tell me at once. Say "No," if it is to be said."— She could really say nothing.—"You are silent," he cried, with great animation 41; "absolutely silent! at present I ask no more."
Emma was almost ready to sink under the agitation 42 of this moment. The dread of being awakened 43 from the happiest dream, was perhaps the most prominent feeling.
"I cannot make speeches, Emma:" he soon resumed; and in a tone of such sincere, decided 44, intelligible tenderness as was tolerably convincing.—"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am.—You hear nothing but truth from me.—I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.— Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma, as well as you have borne with them. The manner, perhaps, may have as little to recommend them. God knows, I have been a very indifferent lover.— But you understand me.—Yes, you see, you understand my feelings—and will return them if you can. At present, I ask only to hear, once to hear your voice."
While he spoke, Emma's mind was most busy, and, with all the wonderful velocity 45 of thought, had been able—and yet without losing a word—to catch and comprehend the exact truth of the whole; to see that Harriet's hopes had been entirely 46 groundless, a mistake, a delusion 47, as complete a delusion as any of her own—that Harriet was nothing; that she was every thing herself; that what she had been saying relative to Harriet had been all taken as the language of her own feelings; and that her agitation, her doubts, her reluctance 48, her discouragement, had been all received as discouragement from herself.—And not only was there time for these convictions, with all their glow of attendant happiness; there was time also to rejoice that Harriet's secret had not escaped her, and to resolve that it need not, and should not.—It was all the service she could now render her poor friend; for as to any of that heroism 49 of sentiment which might have prompted her to entreat 50 him to transfer his affection from herself to Harriet, as infinitely 51 the most worthy 52 of the two—or even the more simple sublimity 53 of resolving to refuse him at once and for ever, without vouchsafing 54 any motive, because he could not marry them both, Emma had it not. She felt for Harriet, with pain and with contrition 55; but no flight of generosity 56 run mad, opposing all that could be probable or reasonable, entered her brain. She had led her friend astray, and it would be a reproach to her for ever; but her judgment 57 was as strong as her feelings, and as strong as it had ever been before, in reprobating any such alliance for him, as most unequal and degrading. Her way was clear, though not quite smooth.—She spoke then, on being so entreated 58.— What did she say?—Just what she ought, of course. A lady always does.— She said enough to shew there need not be despair—and to invite him to say more himself. He had despaired at one period; he had received such an injunction to caution and silence, as for the time crushed every hope;—she had begun by refusing to hear him.—The change had perhaps been somewhat sudden;—her proposal of taking another turn, her renewing the conversation which she had just put an end to, might be a little extraordinary!—She felt its inconsistency; but Mr. Knightley was so obliging as to put up with it, and seek no farther explanation.
Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken; but where, as in this case, though the conduct is mistaken, the feelings are not, it may not be very material.— Mr. Knightley could not impute 59 to Emma a more relenting heart than she possessed 60, or a heart more disposed to accept of his.
He had, in fact, been wholly unsuspicious of his own influence. He had followed her into the shrubbery with no idea of trying it. He had come, in his anxiety to see how she bore Frank Churchill's engagement, with no selfish view, no view at all, but of endeavouring, if she allowed him an opening, to soothe 61 or to counsel her.—The rest had been the work of the moment, the immediate effect of what he heard, on his feelings. The delightful 62 assurance of her total indifference 63 towards Frank Churchill, of her having a heart completely disengaged from him, had given birth to the hope, that, in time, he might gain her affection himself;—but it had been no present hope—he had only, in the momentary 64 conquest of eagerness over judgment, aspired 65 to be told that she did not forbid his attempt to attach her.—The superior hopes which gradually opened were so much the more enchanting 66.— The affection, which he had been asking to be allowed to create, if he could, was already his!—Within half an hour, he had passed from a thoroughly 67 distressed 68 state of mind, to something so like perfect happiness, that it could bear no other name.
Her change was equal.—This one half–hour had given to each the same precious certainty of being beloved, had cleared from each the same degree of ignorance, jealousy 69, or distrust.—On his side, there had been a long–standing jealousy, old as the arrival, or even the expectation, of Frank Churchill.—He had been in love with Emma, and jealous of Frank Churchill, from about the same period, one sentiment having probably enlightened him as to the other. It was his jealousy of Frank Churchill that had taken him from the country.—The Box Hill party had decided him on going away. He would save himself from witnessing again such permitted, encouraged attentions.—He had gone to learn to be indifferent.— But he had gone to a wrong place. There was too much domestic happiness in his brother's house; woman wore too amiable 70 a form in it; Isabella was too much like Emma—differing only in those striking inferiorities, which always brought the other in brilliancy before him, for much to have been done, even had his time been longer.—He had stayed on, however, vigorously, day after day—till this very morning's post had conveyed the history of Jane Fairfax.—Then, with the gladness which must be felt, nay 71, which he did not scruple 72 to feel, having never believed Frank Churchill to be at all deserving Emma, was there so much fond solicitude 73, so much keen anxiety for her, that he could stay no longer. He had ridden home through the rain; and had walked up directly after dinner, to see how this sweetest and best of all creatures, faultless in spite of all her faults, bore the discovery.
He had found her agitated 74 and low.—Frank Churchill was a villain 75.— He heard her declare that she had never loved him. Frank Churchill's character was not desperate.—She was his own Emma, by hand and word, when they returned into the house; and if he could have thought of Frank Churchill then, he might have deemed him a very good sort of fellow.
by Jane Austen
CHAPTER XIII
The weather continued much the same all the following morning; and the same loneliness, and the same melancholy 1, seemed to reign 2 at Hartfield—but in the afternoon it cleared; the wind changed into a softer quarter; the clouds were carried off; the sun appeared; it was summer again. With all the eagerness which such a transition gives, Emma resolved to be out of doors as soon as possible. Never had the exquisite 3 sight, smell, sensation of nature, tranquil 4, warm, and brilliant after a storm, been more attractive to her. She longed for the serenity 5 they might gradually introduce; and on Mr. Perry's coming in soon after dinner, with a disengaged hour to give her father, she lost no time ill hurrying into the shrubbery.—There, with spirits freshened, and thoughts a little relieved, she had taken a few turns, when she saw Mr. Knightley passing through the garden door, and coming towards her.—It was the first intimation of his being returned from London. She had been thinking of him the moment before, as unquestionably sixteen miles distant.—There was time only for the quickest arrangement of mind. She must be collected and calm. In half a minute they were together. The "How d'ye do's" were quiet and constrained 6 on each side. She asked after their mutual 7 friends; they were all well.—When had he left them?—Only that morning. He must have had a wet ride.—Yes.—He meant to walk with her, she found. "He had just looked into the dining–room, and as he was not wanted there, preferred being out of doors."—She thought he neither looked nor spoke 8 cheerfully; and the first possible cause for it, suggested by her fears, was, that he had perhaps been communicating his plans to his brother, and was pained by the manner in which they had been received.
They walked together. He was silent. She thought he was often looking at her, and trying for a fuller view of her face than it suited her to give. And this belief produced another dread 9. Perhaps he wanted to speak to her, of his attachment 10 to Harriet; he might be watching for encouragement to begin.—She did not, could not, feel equal to lead the way to any such subject. He must do it all himself. Yet she could not bear this silence. With him it was most unnatural 11. She considered—resolved—and, trying to smile, began—
"You have some news to hear, now you are come back, that will rather surprize you."
"Have I?" said he quietly, and looking at her; "of what nature?"
"Oh! the best nature in the world—a wedding."
After waiting a moment, as if to be sure she intended to say no more, he replied,
"If you mean Miss Fairfax and Frank Churchill, I have heard that already."
"How is it possible?" cried Emma, turning her glowing cheeks towards him; for, while she spoke, it occurred to her that he might have called at Mrs. Goddard's in his way.
"I had a few lines on parish business from Mr. Weston this morning, and at the end of them he gave me a brief account of what had happened."
Emma was quite relieved, and could presently say, with a little more composure,
"You probably have been less surprized than any of us, for you have had your suspicions.—I have not forgotten that you once tried to give me a caution.—I wish I had attended to it—but—(with a sinking voice and a heavy sigh) I seem to have been doomed 12 to blindness."
For a moment or two nothing was said, and she was unsuspicious of having excited any particular interest, till she found her arm drawn 13 within his, and pressed against his heart, and heard him thus saying, in a tone of great sensibility, speaking low,
"Time, my dearest Emma, time will heal the wound.—Your own excellent sense—your exertions 14 for your father's sake—I know you will not allow yourself—." Her arm was pressed again, as he added, in a more broken and subdued 15 accent, "The feelings of the warmest friendship—Indignation—Abominable scoundrel!"— And in a louder, steadier tone, he concluded with, "He will soon be gone. They will soon be in Yorkshire. I am sorry for her. She deserves a better fate."
Emma understood him; and as soon as she could recover from the flutter of pleasure, excited by such tender consideration, replied,
"You are very kind—but you are mistaken—and I must set you right.— I am not in want of that sort of compassion 16. My blindness to what was going on, led me to act by them in a way that I must always be ashamed of, and I was very foolishly tempted 17 to say and do many things which may well lay me open to unpleasant conjectures 18, but I have no other reason to regret that I was not in the secret earlier."
"Emma!" cried he, looking eagerly at her, "are you, indeed?"—but checking himself—"No, no, I understand you—forgive me—I am pleased that you can say even so much.—He is no object of regret, indeed! and it will not be very long, I hope, before that becomes the acknowledgment of more than your reason.—Fortunate that your affections were not farther entangled 19!—I could never, I confess, from your manners, assure myself as to the degree of what you felt— I could only be certain that there was a preference—and a preference which I never believed him to deserve.—He is a disgrace to the name of man.—And is he to be rewarded with that sweet young woman?— Jane, Jane, you will be a miserable 20 creature."
"Mr. Knightley," said Emma, trying to be lively, but really confused— "I am in a very extraordinary situation. I cannot let you continue in your error; and yet, perhaps, since my manners gave such an impression, I have as much reason to be ashamed of confessing that I never have been at all attached to the person we are speaking of, as it might be natural for a woman to feel in confessing exactly the reverse.— But I never have."
He listened in perfect silence. She wished him to speak, but he would not. She supposed she must say more before she were entitled to his clemency 21; but it was a hard case to be obliged still to lower herself in his opinion. She went on, however.
"I have very little to say for my own conduct.—I was tempted by his attentions, and allowed myself to appear pleased.— An old story, probably—a common case—and no more than has happened to hundreds of my sex before; and yet it may not be the more excusable in one who sets up as I do for Understanding. Many circumstances assisted the temptation. He was the son of Mr. Weston—he was continually here—I always found him very pleasant—and, in short, for (with a sigh) let me swell 22 out the causes ever so ingeniously, they all centre in this at last—my vanity was flattered, and I allowed his attentions. Latterly, however—for some time, indeed—I have had no idea of their meaning any thing.—I thought them a habit, a trick, nothing that called for seriousness on my side. He has imposed on me, but he has not injured me. I have never been attached to him. And now I can tolerably comprehend his behaviour. He never wished to attach me. It was merely a blind to conceal 23 his real situation with another.—It was his object to blind all about him; and no one, I am sure, could be more effectually blinded than myself—except that I was not blinded—that it was my good fortune—that, in short, I was somehow or other safe from him."
She had hoped for an answer here—for a few words to say that her conduct was at least intelligible 24; but he was silent; and, as far as she could judge, deep in thought. At last, and tolerably in his usual tone, he said,
"I have never had a high opinion of Frank Churchill.—I can suppose, however, that I may have underrated him. My acquaintance with him has been but trifling 25.—And even if I have not underrated him hitherto, he may yet turn out well.—With such a woman he has a chance.—I have no motive 26 for wishing him ill—and for her sake, whose happiness will be involved in his good character and conduct, I shall certainly wish him well."
"I have no doubt of their being happy together," said Emma; "I believe them to be very mutually and very sincerely attached."
"He is a most fortunate man!" returned Mr. Knightley, with energy. "So early in life—at three–and–twenty—a period when, if a man chuses a wife, he generally chuses ill. At three–and–twenty to have drawn such a prize! What years of felicity that man, in all human calculation, has before him!—Assured of the love of such a woman—the disinterested 27 love, for Jane Fairfax's character vouches 28 for her disinterestedness 29; every thing in his favour,—equality of situation—I mean, as far as regards society, and all the habits and manners that are important; equality in every point but one—and that one, since the purity of her heart is not to be doubted, such as must increase his felicity, for it will be his to bestow 30 the only advantages she wants.—A man would always wish to give a woman a better home than the one he takes her from; and he who can do it, where there is no doubt of her regard, must, I think, be the happiest of mortals.—Frank Churchill is, indeed, the favourite of fortune. Every thing turns out for his good.—He meets with a young woman at a watering–place, gains her affection, cannot even weary her by negligent 31 treatment—and had he and all his family sought round the world for a perfect wife for him, they could not have found her superior.—His aunt is in the way.—His aunt dies.—He has only to speak.—His friends are eager to promote his happiness.— He had used every body ill—and they are all delighted to forgive him.— He is a fortunate man indeed!"
"You speak as if you envied him."
"And I do envy him, Emma. In one respect he is the object of my envy."
Emma could say no more. They seemed to be within half a sentence of Harriet, and her immediate 32 feeling was to avert 33 the subject, if possible. She made her plan; she would speak of something totally different—the children in Brunswick Square; and she only waited for breath to begin, when Mr. Knightley startled her, by saying,
"You will not ask me what is the point of envy.—You are determined 34, I see, to have no curiosity.—You are wise—but I cannot be wise. Emma, I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment."
"Oh! then, don't speak it, don't speak it," she eagerly cried. "Take a little time, consider, do not commit yourself."
"Thank you," said he, in an accent of deep mortification 35, and not another syllable 36 followed.
Emma could not bear to give him pain. He was wishing to confide 37 in her—perhaps to consult her;—cost her what it would, she would listen. She might assist his resolution, or reconcile him to it; she might give just praise to Harriet, or, by representing to him his own independence, relieve him from that state of indecision, which must be more intolerable than any alternative to such a mind as his.—They had reached the house.
"You are going in, I suppose?" said he.
"No,"—replied Emma—quite confirmed by the depressed 38 manner in which he still spoke—"I should like to take another turn. Mr. Perry is not gone." And, after proceeding 39 a few steps, she added— "I stopped you ungraciously, just now, Mr. Knightley, and, I am afraid, gave you pain.—But if you have any wish to speak openly to me as a friend, or to ask my opinion of any thing that you may have in contemplation—as a friend, indeed, you may command me.—I will hear whatever you like. I will tell you exactly what I think."
"As a friend!"—repeated Mr. Knightley.—"Emma, that I fear is a word—No, I have no wish—Stay, yes, why should I hesitate?— I have gone too far already for concealment 40.—Emma, I accept your offer— Extraordinary as it may seem, I accept it, and refer myself to you as a friend.—Tell me, then, have I no chance of ever succeeding?"
He stopped in his earnestness to look the question, and the expression of his eyes overpowered her.
"My dearest Emma," said he, "for dearest you will always be, whatever the event of this hour's conversation, my dearest, most beloved Emma—tell me at once. Say "No," if it is to be said."— She could really say nothing.—"You are silent," he cried, with great animation 41; "absolutely silent! at present I ask no more."
Emma was almost ready to sink under the agitation 42 of this moment. The dread of being awakened 43 from the happiest dream, was perhaps the most prominent feeling.
"I cannot make speeches, Emma:" he soon resumed; and in a tone of such sincere, decided 44, intelligible tenderness as was tolerably convincing.—"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am.—You hear nothing but truth from me.—I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.— Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma, as well as you have borne with them. The manner, perhaps, may have as little to recommend them. God knows, I have been a very indifferent lover.— But you understand me.—Yes, you see, you understand my feelings—and will return them if you can. At present, I ask only to hear, once to hear your voice."
While he spoke, Emma's mind was most busy, and, with all the wonderful velocity 45 of thought, had been able—and yet without losing a word—to catch and comprehend the exact truth of the whole; to see that Harriet's hopes had been entirely 46 groundless, a mistake, a delusion 47, as complete a delusion as any of her own—that Harriet was nothing; that she was every thing herself; that what she had been saying relative to Harriet had been all taken as the language of her own feelings; and that her agitation, her doubts, her reluctance 48, her discouragement, had been all received as discouragement from herself.—And not only was there time for these convictions, with all their glow of attendant happiness; there was time also to rejoice that Harriet's secret had not escaped her, and to resolve that it need not, and should not.—It was all the service she could now render her poor friend; for as to any of that heroism 49 of sentiment which might have prompted her to entreat 50 him to transfer his affection from herself to Harriet, as infinitely 51 the most worthy 52 of the two—or even the more simple sublimity 53 of resolving to refuse him at once and for ever, without vouchsafing 54 any motive, because he could not marry them both, Emma had it not. She felt for Harriet, with pain and with contrition 55; but no flight of generosity 56 run mad, opposing all that could be probable or reasonable, entered her brain. She had led her friend astray, and it would be a reproach to her for ever; but her judgment 57 was as strong as her feelings, and as strong as it had ever been before, in reprobating any such alliance for him, as most unequal and degrading. Her way was clear, though not quite smooth.—She spoke then, on being so entreated 58.— What did she say?—Just what she ought, of course. A lady always does.— She said enough to shew there need not be despair—and to invite him to say more himself. He had despaired at one period; he had received such an injunction to caution and silence, as for the time crushed every hope;—she had begun by refusing to hear him.—The change had perhaps been somewhat sudden;—her proposal of taking another turn, her renewing the conversation which she had just put an end to, might be a little extraordinary!—She felt its inconsistency; but Mr. Knightley was so obliging as to put up with it, and seek no farther explanation.
Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken; but where, as in this case, though the conduct is mistaken, the feelings are not, it may not be very material.— Mr. Knightley could not impute 59 to Emma a more relenting heart than she possessed 60, or a heart more disposed to accept of his.
He had, in fact, been wholly unsuspicious of his own influence. He had followed her into the shrubbery with no idea of trying it. He had come, in his anxiety to see how she bore Frank Churchill's engagement, with no selfish view, no view at all, but of endeavouring, if she allowed him an opening, to soothe 61 or to counsel her.—The rest had been the work of the moment, the immediate effect of what he heard, on his feelings. The delightful 62 assurance of her total indifference 63 towards Frank Churchill, of her having a heart completely disengaged from him, had given birth to the hope, that, in time, he might gain her affection himself;—but it had been no present hope—he had only, in the momentary 64 conquest of eagerness over judgment, aspired 65 to be told that she did not forbid his attempt to attach her.—The superior hopes which gradually opened were so much the more enchanting 66.— The affection, which he had been asking to be allowed to create, if he could, was already his!—Within half an hour, he had passed from a thoroughly 67 distressed 68 state of mind, to something so like perfect happiness, that it could bear no other name.
Her change was equal.—This one half–hour had given to each the same precious certainty of being beloved, had cleared from each the same degree of ignorance, jealousy 69, or distrust.—On his side, there had been a long–standing jealousy, old as the arrival, or even the expectation, of Frank Churchill.—He had been in love with Emma, and jealous of Frank Churchill, from about the same period, one sentiment having probably enlightened him as to the other. It was his jealousy of Frank Churchill that had taken him from the country.—The Box Hill party had decided him on going away. He would save himself from witnessing again such permitted, encouraged attentions.—He had gone to learn to be indifferent.— But he had gone to a wrong place. There was too much domestic happiness in his brother's house; woman wore too amiable 70 a form in it; Isabella was too much like Emma—differing only in those striking inferiorities, which always brought the other in brilliancy before him, for much to have been done, even had his time been longer.—He had stayed on, however, vigorously, day after day—till this very morning's post had conveyed the history of Jane Fairfax.—Then, with the gladness which must be felt, nay 71, which he did not scruple 72 to feel, having never believed Frank Churchill to be at all deserving Emma, was there so much fond solicitude 73, so much keen anxiety for her, that he could stay no longer. He had ridden home through the rain; and had walked up directly after dinner, to see how this sweetest and best of all creatures, faultless in spite of all her faults, bore the discovery.
He had found her agitated 74 and low.—Frank Churchill was a villain 75.— He heard her declare that she had never loved him. Frank Churchill's character was not desperate.—She was his own Emma, by hand and word, when they returned into the house; and if he could have thought of Frank Churchill then, he might have deemed him a very good sort of fellow.
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的
- All at once he fell into a state of profound melancholy.他立即陷入无尽的忧思之中。
- He felt melancholy after he failed the exam.这次考试没通过,他感到很郁闷。
n.统治时期,统治,支配,盛行;v.占优势
- The reign of Queen Elizabeth lapped over into the seventeenth century.伊丽莎白王朝延至17世纪。
- The reign of Zhu Yuanzhang lasted about 31 years.朱元璋统治了大约三十一年。
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的
- I was admiring the exquisite workmanship in the mosaic.我当时正在欣赏镶嵌画的精致做工。
- I still remember the exquisite pleasure I experienced in Bali.我依然记得在巴厘岛所经历的那种剧烈的快感。
adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的
- The boy disturbed the tranquil surface of the pond with a stick. 那男孩用棍子打破了平静的池面。
- The tranquil beauty of the village scenery is unique. 这乡村景色的宁静是绝无仅有的。
n.宁静,沉着,晴朗
- Her face,though sad,still evoked a feeling of serenity.她的脸色虽然悲伤,但仍使人感觉安详。
- She escaped to the comparative serenity of the kitchen.她逃到相对安静的厨房里。
adj.束缚的,节制的
- The evidence was so compelling that he felt constrained to accept it. 证据是那样的令人折服,他觉得不得不接受。
- I feel constrained to write and ask for your forgiveness. 我不得不写信请你原谅。
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的
- We must pull together for mutual interest.我们必须为相互的利益而通力合作。
- Mutual interests tied us together.相互的利害关系把我们联系在一起。
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说
- They sourced the spoke nuts from our company.他们的轮辐螺帽是从我们公司获得的。
- The spokes of a wheel are the bars that connect the outer ring to the centre.辐条是轮子上连接外圈与中心的条棒。
vt.担忧,忧虑;惧怕,不敢;n.担忧,畏惧
- We all dread to think what will happen if the company closes.我们都不敢去想一旦公司关门我们该怎么办。
- Her heart was relieved of its blankest dread.她极度恐惧的心理消除了。
n.附属物,附件;依恋;依附
- She has a great attachment to her sister.她十分依恋她的姐姐。
- She's on attachment to the Ministry of Defense.她现在隶属于国防部。
adj.不自然的;反常的
- Did her behaviour seem unnatural in any way?她有任何反常表现吗?
- She has an unnatural smile on her face.她脸上挂着做作的微笑。
命定的
- The court doomed the accused to a long term of imprisonment. 法庭判处被告长期监禁。
- A country ruled by an iron hand is doomed to suffer. 被铁腕人物统治的国家定会遭受不幸的。
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的
- All the characters in the story are drawn from life.故事中的所有人物都取材于生活。
- Her gaze was drawn irresistibly to the scene outside.她的目光禁不住被外面的风景所吸引。
n.努力( exertion的名词复数 );费力;(能力、权力等的)运用;行使
- As long as they lived, exertions would not be necessary to her. 只要他们活着,是不需要她吃苦的。 来自辞典例句
- She failed to unlock the safe in spite of all her exertions. 她虽然费尽力气,仍未能将那保险箱的锁打开。 来自辞典例句
n.同情,怜悯
- He could not help having compassion for the poor creature.他情不自禁地怜悯起那个可怜的人来。
- Her heart was filled with compassion for the motherless children.她对于没有母亲的孩子们充满了怜悯心。
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词)
- I was sorely tempted to complain, but I didn't. 我极想发牢骚,但还是没开口。
- I was tempted by the dessert menu. 甜食菜单馋得我垂涎欲滴。
推测,猜想( conjecture的名词复数 )
- That's weighing remote military conjectures against the certain deaths of innocent people. 那不过是牵强附会的军事假设,而现在的事实却是无辜者正在惨遭杀害,这怎能同日而语!
- I was right in my conjectures. 我所猜测的都应验了。
adj.卷入的;陷入的;被缠住的;缠在一起的v.使某人(某物/自己)缠绕,纠缠于(某物中),使某人(自己)陷入(困难或复杂的环境中)( entangle的过去式和过去分词 )
- The bird had become entangled in the wire netting. 那只小鸟被铁丝网缠住了。
- Some military observers fear the US could get entangled in another war. 一些军事观察家担心美国会卷入另一场战争。 来自《简明英汉词典》
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的
- It was miserable of you to make fun of him.你取笑他,这是可耻的。
- Her past life was miserable.她过去的生活很苦。
n.温和,仁慈,宽厚
- The question of clemency would rest with the King.宽大处理问题,将由国王决定。
- They addressed to the governor a plea for clemency.他们向州长提交了宽刑的申辨书。
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强
- The waves had taken on a deep swell.海浪汹涌。
- His injured wrist began to swell.他那受伤的手腕开始肿了。
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽
- He had to conceal his identity to escape the police.为了躲避警方,他只好隐瞒身份。
- He could hardly conceal his joy at his departure.他几乎掩饰不住临行时的喜悦。
adj.可理解的,明白易懂的,清楚的
- This report would be intelligible only to an expert in computing.只有计算机运算专家才能看懂这份报告。
- His argument was barely intelligible.他的论点不易理解。
adj.微不足道的;没什么价值的
- They quarreled over a trifling matter.他们为这种微不足道的事情争吵。
- So far Europe has no doubt, gained a real conveniency,though surely a very trifling one.直到现在为止,欧洲无疑地已经获得了实在的便利,不过那确是一种微不足道的便利。
n.动机,目的;adv.发动的,运动的
- The police could not find a motive for the murder.警察不能找到谋杀的动机。
- He had some motive in telling this fable.他讲这寓言故事是有用意的。
adj.不关心的,不感兴趣的
- He is impartial and disinterested.他公正无私。
- He's always on the make,I have never known him do a disinterested action.他这个人一贯都是唯利是图,我从来不知道他有什么无私的行动。
v.保证( vouch的第三人称单数 );担保;确定;确定地说
- Who vouches for your good conduct?" 谁是你的保人?” 来自子夜部分
- This paper vouches for the authenticity of the painting. 这份文件担保这幅画的可信赖姓。 来自互联网
- Because it requires detachment, disinterestedness, it is the finest flower and test of a liberal civilization. 科学方法要求人们超然独立、公正无私,因而它是自由文明的最美之花和最佳试金石。 来自哲学部分
- His chief equipment seems to be disinterestedness. He moves in a void, without audience. 他主要的本事似乎是超然不群;生活在虚无缥缈中,没有听众。 来自辞典例句
v.把…赠与,把…授予;花费
- He wished to bestow great honors upon the hero.他希望将那些伟大的荣誉授予这位英雄。
- What great inspiration wiII you bestow on me?你有什么伟大的灵感能馈赠给我?
adj.疏忽的;玩忽的;粗心大意的
- The committee heard that he had been negligent in his duty.委员会听说他玩忽职守。
- If the government is proved negligent,compensation will be payable.如果证明是政府的疏忽,就应支付赔偿。
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的
- His immediate neighbours felt it their duty to call.他的近邻认为他们有责任去拜访。
- We declared ourselves for the immediate convocation of the meeting.我们主张立即召开这个会议。
v.防止,避免;转移(目光、注意力等)
- He managed to avert suspicion.他设法避嫌。
- I would do what I could to avert it.我会尽力去避免发生这种情况。
adj.坚定的;有决心的
- I have determined on going to Tibet after graduation.我已决定毕业后去西藏。
- He determined to view the rooms behind the office.他决定查看一下办公室后面的房间。
n.耻辱,屈辱
- To my mortification, my manuscript was rejected. 使我感到失面子的是:我的稿件被退了回来。
- The chairman tried to disguise his mortification. 主席试图掩饰自己的窘迫。
n.音节;vt.分音节
- You put too much emphasis on the last syllable.你把最后一个音节读得太重。
- The stress on the last syllable is light.最后一个音节是轻音节。
v.向某人吐露秘密
- I would never readily confide in anybody.我从不轻易向人吐露秘密。
- He is going to confide the secrets of his heart to us.他将向我们吐露他心里的秘密。
adj.沮丧的,抑郁的,不景气的,萧条的
- When he was depressed,he felt utterly divorced from reality.他心情沮丧时就感到完全脱离了现实。
- His mother was depressed by the sad news.这个坏消息使他的母亲意志消沉。
n.行动,进行,(pl.)会议录,学报
- This train is now proceeding from Paris to London.这次列车从巴黎开往伦敦。
- The work is proceeding briskly.工作很有生气地进展着。
n.隐藏, 掩盖,隐瞒
- the concealment of crime 对罪行的隐瞒
- Stay in concealment until the danger has passed. 把自己藏起来,待危险过去后再出来。
n.活泼,兴奋,卡通片/动画片的制作
- They are full of animation as they talked about their childhood.当他们谈及童年的往事时都非常兴奋。
- The animation of China made a great progress.中国的卡通片制作取得很大发展。
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动
- Small shopkeepers carried on a long agitation against the big department stores.小店主们长期以来一直在煽动人们反对大型百货商店。
- These materials require constant agitation to keep them in suspension.这些药剂要经常搅动以保持悬浮状态。
v.(使)醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到
- She awakened to the sound of birds singing. 她醒来听到鸟的叫声。
- The public has been awakened to the full horror of the situation. 公众完全意识到了这一状况的可怕程度。 来自《简明英汉词典》
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的
- This gave them a decided advantage over their opponents.这使他们比对手具有明显的优势。
- There is a decided difference between British and Chinese way of greeting.英国人和中国人打招呼的方式有很明显的区别。
n.速度,速率
- Einstein's theory links energy with mass and velocity of light.爱因斯坦的理论把能量同质量和光速联系起来。
- The velocity of light is about 300000 kilometres per second.光速约为每秒300000公里。
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地
- The fire was entirely caused by their neglect of duty. 那场火灾完全是由于他们失职而引起的。
- His life was entirely given up to the educational work. 他的一生统统献给了教育工作。
n.谬见,欺骗,幻觉,迷惑
- He is under the delusion that he is Napoleon.他患了妄想症,认为自己是拿破仑。
- I was under the delusion that he intended to marry me.我误认为他要娶我。
n.厌恶,讨厌,勉强,不情愿
- The police released Andrew with reluctance.警方勉强把安德鲁放走了。
- He showed the greatest reluctance to make a reply.他表示很不愿意答复。
n.大无畏精神,英勇
- He received a medal for his heroism.他由于英勇而获得一枚奖章。
- Stories of his heroism resounded through the country.他的英雄故事传遍全国。
v.恳求,恳请
- Charles Darnay felt it hopeless entreat him further,and his pride was touched besides.查尔斯-达尔内感到再恳求他已是枉然,自尊心也受到了伤害。
- I entreat you to contribute generously to the building fund.我恳求您慷慨捐助建设基金。
adv.无限地,无穷地
- There is an infinitely bright future ahead of us.我们有无限光明的前途。
- The universe is infinitely large.宇宙是无限大的。
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的
- I did not esteem him to be worthy of trust.我认为他不值得信赖。
- There occurred nothing that was worthy to be mentioned.没有值得一提的事发生。
崇高,庄严,气质高尚
- It'suggests no crystal waters, no picturesque shores, no sublimity. 这决不会叫人联想到晶莹的清水,如画的两岸,雄壮的气势。
- Huckleberry was filled with admiration of Tom's facility in writing, and the sublimity of his language. 对汤姆流利的书写、响亮的内容,哈克贝利心悦诚服。
v.给予,赐予( vouchsafe的现在分词 );允诺
- When Cowperwood returned she snarled at him without vouchsafing an explanation. 等柯柏乌回来的时候,她不由分说地就向他痛骂起来。 来自辞典例句
n.悔罪,痛悔
- The next day he'd be full of contrition,weeping and begging forgiveness.第二天,他就会懊悔不已,哭着乞求原谅。
- She forgave him because his contrition was real.她原谅了他是由于他的懊悔是真心的。
n.大度,慷慨,慷慨的行为
- We should match their generosity with our own.我们应该像他们一样慷慨大方。
- We adore them for their generosity.我们钦佩他们的慷慨。
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见
- The chairman flatters himself on his judgment of people.主席自认为他审视人比别人高明。
- He's a man of excellent judgment.他眼力过人。
恳求,乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 )
- They entreated and threatened, but all this seemed of no avail. 他们时而恳求,时而威胁,但这一切看来都没有用。
- 'One word,' the Doctor entreated. 'Will you tell me who denounced him?' “还有一个问题,”医生请求道,“你可否告诉我是谁告发他的?” 来自英汉文学 - 双城记
v.归咎于
- I impute his failure to laziness.我把他的失败归咎于他的懒惰。
- It is grossly unfair to impute blame to the United Nations.把责任归咎于联合国极其不公。
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的
- He flew out of the room like a man possessed.他像着了魔似地猛然冲出房门。
- He behaved like someone possessed.他行为举止像是魔怔了。
v.安慰;使平静;使减轻;缓和;奉承
- I've managed to soothe him down a bit.我想方设法使他平静了一点。
- This medicine should soothe your sore throat.这种药会减轻你的喉痛。
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的
- We had a delightful time by the seashore last Sunday.上星期天我们在海滨玩得真痛快。
- Peter played a delightful melody on his flute.彼得用笛子吹奏了一支欢快的曲子。
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎
- I was disappointed by his indifference more than somewhat.他的漠不关心使我很失望。
- He feigned indifference to criticism of his work.他假装毫不在意别人批评他的作品。
adj.片刻的,瞬息的;短暂的
- We are in momentary expectation of the arrival of you.我们无时无刻不在盼望你的到来。
- I caught a momentary glimpse of them.我瞥了他们一眼。
v.渴望,追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 )
- She aspired to a scientific career. 她有志于科学事业。
- Britain,France,the United States and Japan all aspired to hegemony after the end of World War I. 第一次世界大战后,英、法、美、日都想争夺霸权。 来自《简明英汉词典》
a.讨人喜欢的
- His smile, at once enchanting and melancholy, is just his father's. 他那种既迷人又有些忧郁的微笑,活脱儿象他父亲。
- Its interior was an enchanting place that both lured and frightened me. 它的里头是个吸引人的地方,我又向往又害怕。
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地
- The soil must be thoroughly turned over before planting.一定要先把土地深翻一遍再下种。
- The soldiers have been thoroughly instructed in the care of their weapons.士兵们都系统地接受过保护武器的训练。
痛苦的
- He was too distressed and confused to answer their questions. 他非常苦恼而困惑,无法回答他们的问题。
- The news of his death distressed us greatly. 他逝世的消息使我们极为悲痛。
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌
- Some women have a disposition to jealousy.有些女人生性爱妒忌。
- I can't support your jealousy any longer.我再也无法忍受你的嫉妒了。
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的
- She was a very kind and amiable old woman.她是个善良和气的老太太。
- We have a very amiable companionship.我们之间存在一种友好的关系。
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者
- He was grateful for and proud of his son's remarkable,nay,unique performance.他为儿子出色的,不,应该是独一无二的表演心怀感激和骄傲。
- Long essays,nay,whole books have been written on this.许多长篇大论的文章,不,应该说是整部整部的书都是关于这件事的。
n./v.顾忌,迟疑
- It'seemed to her now that she could marry him without the remnant of a scruple.她觉得现在她可以跟他成婚而不需要有任何顾忌。
- He makes no scruple to tell a lie.他说起谎来无所顾忌。
n.焦虑
- Your solicitude was a great consolation to me.你对我的关怀给了我莫大的安慰。
- He is full of tender solicitude towards my sister.他对我妹妹满心牵挂。
adj.被鼓动的,不安的
- His answers were all mixed up,so agitated was he.他是那样心神不定,回答全乱了。
- She was agitated because her train was an hour late.她乘坐的火车晚点一个小时,她十分焦虑。