言情一品书

手机浏览器扫描二维码访问

第23部分(第1页)

he 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 mon 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。

Here she took up her lodging and began instantly to look about her for what she had e in search of—that is to say; life and a lover。 About the first there might be some doubt; the second she found without the least difficulty two days after her arrival。 It was a Tuesday that she came to town。 On Thursday she went for a walk in the Mall; as was then the habit of persons of quality。 She had not made more than a turn or two of the avenue before she was observed by a little knot of vulgar people who go there to spy upon their betters。 As she came past them; a mon woman carrying a child at her breast stepped forward; peered familiarly into Orlando’s face; and cried out; ‘Lawk upon us; if it ain’t the Lady Orlando!’ Her panions came crowding round; and Orlando found herself in a moment the centre of a mob of staring citizens and tradesmen’s wives; all eager to gaze upon the heroine of the celebrated lawsuit。 Such was the interest that the case excited in the minds of the mon people。 She might; indeed; have found herself gravely dismoded by the pressure of the crowd—she had forgotten that ladies are not supposed to walk in public places alone—had not a tall gentleman at once stepped forward and offered her the protection of his arm。 It was the Archduke。 She was overe with distress and yet with some amusement at the sight。 Not only had this magnanimous nobleman forgiven her; but in order to show that he took her levity with the toad in good part; he had procured a jewel made in the shape of that reptile which he pressed upon her with a repetition of his suit as he handed her to her coach。

What with the crowd; what with the Duke; what with the jewel; she drove home in the vilest temper imaginable。 Was it impossible then to go for a walk without being half–suffocated; presented with a toad set in emeralds; and asked in marriage by an Archduke? She took a kinder view of the case next day when she found on her breakfast table half a dozen billets from some of the greatest ladies in the land—Lady Suffolk; Lady Salisbury; Lady Chesterfield; Lady Tavistock; and others who reminded her in the politest manner of old alliances between their families and her own; and desired the honour of her acquaintance。 Next day; which was a Saturday; many of these great ladies waited on her in person。 On Tuesday; about noon; their footmen brought cards of invitation to various routs; dinners; and assemblies in the near future; so that Orlando was launched without delay; and with some splash and foam at that; upon the waters of London society。

To give a truthful account of London society at that or indeed at any other time; is beyond the powers of the biographer or the historian。 Only those who have little need of the truth; and no respect for it—the poets and the novelists—can be trusted to do it; for this is one of the cases where the truth does not exist。 Nothing exists。 The whole thing is a miasma—a mirage。 To make our meaning plain—Orlando could e home from one of these routs at three or four in the morning with cheeks like a Christmas tree and eyes like stars。 She would untie a lace; pace the room a score of times; untie another lace; stop; and pace the room again。 Often the sun would be blazing over Southwark chimneys before she could persuade herself to get into bed; and there she would lie; pitching and tossing; laughing and sighing for an hour or longer before she slept at last。 And what was all this stir about? Society。 And what had society said or done to throw a reasonable lady into such an excitement? In plain language; nothing。 Rack her memory as she would; next day Orlando could never remember a single word to magnify into the name something。 Lord O。 had been gallant。 Lord A。 polite。 The Marquis of C。 charming。 Mr M。 amusing。 But when she tried to recollect in what their gallantry; politeness; charm; or wit had consisted; she was bound to suppose her memory at fault; for she could not name a thing。 It was the same always。 Nothing remained over the next day; yet the excitement of the moment was intense。 Thus we are forced to conclude that society is one of those brews such as skilled housekeepers serve hot about Christmas time; whose flavour depends upon the proper mixing and stirring of a dozen different ingredients。 Take one out; and it is in itself insipid。 Take away Lord O。; Lord A。; Lord C。; or Mr M。 and separately each is nothing。 Stir them all together and they bine to give off the most intoxicating of flavours; the most seductive of scents。 Yet this intoxication; this seductiveness; entirely evade our analysis。 At one and the same time; therefore; society is everything and society is nothing。 Society is the most powerful concoction in the world and society has no existence whatsoever。 Such monsters the poets and the novelists alone can deal with; with such something–nothings their works are stuffed out to prodigious size; and to them with the best will in the world we are content to leave it。

Following the example of our predecessors; therefore; we will only say that society in the reign of Queen Anne was of unparalleled brilliance。 To have the entry there was the aim of every well–bred person。 The graces were supreme。 Fathers instructed their sons; mothers their daughters。 No education was plete for either sex which did not include the science of deportment; the art of bowing and curtseying; the management of the sword and the fan; the care of the teeth; the conduct of the leg; the flexibility of the knee; the proper methods of entering and leaving the room; with a thousand etceteras; such as will immediately suggest themselves to anybody who has himself been in society。 Since Orlando had won the praise of Queen Elizabeth for the way she handed a bowl of rose water as a boy; it must be supposed that she was sufficiently expert to pass muster。 Yet it is true that there was an absentmindedness about her which sometimes made her clumsy; she was apt to think of poetry when she should have been thinking of taffeta; her walk was a little too much of a stride for a woman; perhaps; and her gestures; being abrupt; might endanger a cup of tea on occasion。

Whether this slight disability was enough to counterbalance the splendour of her bearing; or whether she inherited a drop too much of that black humour which ran in the veins of all her race; certain it is that she had not been in the world more than a score of times before she might have been heard to ask herself; had there been anybody but her spaniel Pippin to hear her; ‘What the devil is the matter with me?’ The occasion was Tuesday; the 16th of June 1712; she had just returned from a great ball at Arlington House; the dawn was in the sky; and she was pulling off her stockings。 ‘I don’t care if I never meet another soul as long as I live;’ cried Orlando; bursting into tears。 Lovers she had in plenty; but life; which is; after all; of some importance in its way; escaped her。 ‘Is this’; she asked—but there was none to answer; ‘is this’; she finished her sentence all the same; ‘what people call life?’ The spaniel raised her forepaw in token of sympathy。 The spaniel licked Orlando with her tongue。 Orlando stroked the spaniel with her hand。 Orlando kissed the spaniel with her lips。 In short; there was the truest sympathy between them that can be between a dog and its mistress; and yet it cannot be denied that the dumbness of animals is a great impediment to the refinements of intercourse。 They wag their tails; they bow the front part of the body and elevate the hind; they roll; they jump; they paw; they whine; they bark; they slobber; they have all sorts of ceremonies and artifices of their own; but the whole thing is of no avail; since speak they cannot。 Such was her quarrel; she thought; setting the dog gently on to the floor; with the great people at Arlington House。 They; too; wag their tails; bow; roll; jump; paw; and slobber; but talk they cannot。 ‘All these months that I’ve been out in the world’; said Orlando; pitching one stocking across the room; ‘I’ve heard nothing but what Pippin might have said。 I’m cold。 I’m happy。 I’m hungry。 I’ve caught a mouse。 I’ve buried a bone。 Please kiss my nose。’ And it was not enough。

How; in so short a time; she had passed from intoxication to disgust we will only seek to explain by supposing that this mysterious position which we call society; is nothing absolutely good or bad in itself; but has a spirit in it; volatile but potent; which either makes you drunk when you think it; as Orlando thought it; delightful; or gives you a headache when you think it; as Orlando thought it; repulsive。 That the faculty of speech has much to do with it either way; we take leave to doubt。 Often a dumb hour is the most ravishing of all; brilliant wit can be tedious beyond description。 But to the poets we leave it; and so on with our story。

Orlando threw the second stocking after the first and went to bed dismally enough; determined that she would forswear society for ever。 But again as it turned out; she was too hasty in ing to her conclusions。 For the very next morning she woke to find; among the usual cards of invitation upon her table; one from a certain great Lady; the Countess of R。 Having determined overnight that she would never go into society again; we can only explain Orlando’s behaviour—she sent a messenger hot–foot to R— House to say that she would attend her Ladyship with all the pleasure in the world—by the fact that she was still suffering from the effect of three honeyed words dropped into her ear on the deck of the “Enamoured Lady” by Captain Nicholas Benedict Bartolus as they sailed down the Thames。 Addison; Dryden; Pope; he had said; pointing to the Cocoa Tree; and Addison; Dryden; Pope had chimed in her head like an incantation ever since。

丛林战争  冷血悍将  民国演义  红色之翼  演讲论辩技巧  双子变变变  亮剑精神  草包英雄  生活要懂点博弈学 作 者: 王宇  江泽民  在中国做事(全文阅读) - 黄夏君  血色使命  销售人员职业教程  要塞-中世纪领主  梨园往事  我的苦难我的大学  女性经理人打造术:跟王熙凤学管理  东北黑旋风  现在,发现你的优势  五胡烽火录  

热门小说推荐
重生八零之极品军妻

重生八零之极品军妻

吃货林思念重生到了八零年,面对这桩谋算来的婚姻,男人的冷漠,她却像打了鸡血似的,誓要把男主拿下。男人的冷漠与误会让她终于有了离开的想法,可军婚不好离,她不信邪的为离婚奋斗着。可这冷漠的男人从什么时候起,紧紧的追着她的脚步,还恬不知耻的要和她生儿子。呸,谁要和你生儿子?你有儿子了好不好,要生也是生一个像她一样漂亮可爱...

华娱特效大亨

华娱特效大亨

新书我的特效时代上传,求收藏,求推荐!落魄功夫小生陆麟,拥有一台能做出炫酷特效的超级电脑。从此华语影片不在是低成本小制作的代名词。奇幻瑰丽的仙侠世界登上银幕,沉迷华夏网文的外国小哥,不再期待漫威!书友群481993635...

上门狂婿

上门狂婿

被丈母娘为难,被女神老婆嫌弃!都说我是一无是处的上门女婿!突然,家族电话通知我继承亿万家财,其实我是一个级富二代...

奶爸至尊

奶爸至尊

肉身不破,灵魂不灭,为了回到穿越前,为了再见到他可爱的女儿,不断引起星域乱战,一个不死强者,重启纪元,回归平凡,从此一个无敌奶爸诞生了。续集,正在新书连载着...

通天武尊

通天武尊

他是绝世炼丹天才,因生来不能修炼武道,遭到自己最亲近的女人背叛杀害,转世重生于一个被人欺凌的废材少年身上。废材?天才?笑话,这万界内没人比他杨辰更了解培养天才!武道?丹道?双修又有何难!成就妖孽之道一路逆袭!极我逸才铸神体,荡尽不平!以我璀华炼仙丹,万界颤抖!...

都市最强狂兵

都市最强狂兵

龙血部队兵王狂龙因违反规定,被迫回到中海。本想低调做人,却偶遇美女总裁让自己睡了她,哪知道被卷入一场莫名的争斗,成为了她的贴身保镖。叶轻狂从此龙入花海,身边美女如云,但也麻烦不断读者群527212401...

每日热搜小说推荐