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Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë CHAPTER I 1801— I have just returned from a visit to my landlord—the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society. A perfect misanthropist’s Heaven—and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name. “Mr. Heathcliff?” I said. A nod was the answer. “Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, sir. I do myself the honour of calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express the hope that I have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in soliciting the occupation of Thrushcross Grange: I heard yesterday you had had some thoughts—” “Thrushcross Grange is my own, sir,” he interrupted, wincing. “I should not allow any one to inconvenience me, if I could hinder it—walk in!” The “walk in” was uttered with closed teeth, and expressed the sentiment, “Go to the Deuce!” even the gate over which he leant manifested no sympathising movement to the words; and I think that circumstance determined me to accept the invitation: I felt interested in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved than myself. When he saw my horse’s breast fairly pushing the barrier, he did put out his hand to unchain it, and then sullenly preceded me up the causeway, calling, as we entered the court,—“Joseph, take Mr. Lockwood’s horse; and bring up some wine.” “Here we have the whole establishment of domestics, I suppose,” was the reflection suggested by this compound order. “No wonder the grass grows up between the flags, and cattle are the only hedge-cutters.” Joseph was an elderly, nay, an old man, very old, perhaps, though hale and sinewy. “The Lord help us!” he soliloquised in an undertone of peevish displeasure, while relieving me of my horse: looking, meantime, in my face so sourly that I charitably conjectured he must have need of divine aid to digest his dinner, and his pious ejaculation had no reference to my unexpected advent. Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliff’s dwelling. “Wuthering” being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather. Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed: one may guess the power of the north wind, blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun. Happily, the architect had foresight to build it strong: the narrow windows are deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended with large jutting stones. |
呼啸山庄 作者：艾米莉•勃朗特 第1章 故事发生在公元一八○一年。 那天我刚刚看望完我的房东回来——他是一位性情孤僻之人，就住在这附近，接下来我少不了要给他添麻烦。这里的乡间风景还算得上漂亮！在整个英格兰境内，真不敢相信我竟能在这么个地方落脚。此地远离尘嚣，完全与世隔绝，真是个厌世者的完美天堂。黑思克里夫正好和我组成一对意气相投的搭档，共同分担这里的寂寥凄凉。他可真是一表人才！我骑着马来到他跟前，看到他两颗黑眼珠深陷在眉宇之下，眼神里流露着猜忌之色。我自报家门时，他的双手手指往背心口袋里插了又插，一脸将信将疑的决绝表情。他肯定想不到，第一眼见到他时，我的心头着实一热。 “是黑思克里夫先生吗？”我问道。 他没有回答我，只是点了点头。 “先生，我叫劳克伍德，是您的新房客。我一到这儿就立刻赶过来拜访您，希望不要因为我执意要租画眉田庄，而给您造成什么不便。昨天我听说您另有想法——”。 “画眉田庄由我说了算，先生。”他身体躲闪着，还没等我说完就打断我的话说道：“只要我能制止，就绝不会让任何人给我带来不便——进来！” “进来”这两个字是咬着牙从牙缝里挤出来的，代表着这样一种情绪，“见你的鬼去吧！”甚至连他靠着的那扇篱笆门都没有对这句话表现出任何怜悯之情，杵在那里纹丝不动；我想既然如此，我也就决定接受这样的邀请——这个看上去比我自己更加内向的人，已经引起了我的兴致。 他眼看着我的马就要把前胸贴到栅栏上了，于是伸手打开门上的链条，然后拉着个脸，领我上了石板路。一进院子，我就听见他嚷道：“周思福，把劳克伍德先生的马牵走，顺便给我拿些葡萄酒来。” “我想整个房子里应该就住着一个人吧，”听到刚才那句让一个人同时干两件事的双重号令，我心里这么想着。“难怪地面石板缝都长满了草，这里恐怕只能靠牛来修剪树木花草了吧。” 周思福看上去有一把年纪，不，他应该有大把年纪——虽然身体看起来还很结实硬朗，可是实际岁数可能比他本人看上去还要大。“愿上帝保佑我们！”他一脸的不高兴，从我手里接过马缰绳，压低声音，嘴里不知道在自言自语、嘟嘟囔囔些什么，同时他不怀好意地盯着我的脸看。我猜想他肯定更需要上帝的帮助，否则他今天的午餐可能消化不了，我心里这样想还算是比较厚道。他那句虔诚的大声祈祷与我这个不速之客的到来简直就是风马牛不相及。 呼啸山庄是黑思克里夫先生住所的名字。“呼啸”是本地区一个举足轻重的词，用来形容这地方的天空在暴风雨雪天气中所遭受的翻云覆雾。没错，这里空气纯净，气流通畅，随时都会令人精神为之一振，房子尽头几棵矮小的冷杉过度歪斜，还有一排瘦骨嶙峋的荆棘丛，枝条都朝着同一个方向延伸，好像在等待着阳光的德泽，这样就不难想象北风呼啸着吹过庄园边际的威力了。幸亏建造山庄的设计师远见卓识，把房子盖得相当结实，窗户很窄小，深嵌在墙体中，各个墙角都用突出的巨大石块予以加固。 |
