a room with a view-第4节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



she　was　going　to　spend　a　long　morning　in　Santa　Croce；　and　if　Lucy

would　come　too；　she　would　be　delighted。



〃I　will　take　you　by　a　dear　dirty　back　way；　Miss　Honeychurch；　and

if　you　bring　me　luck；　we　shall　have　an　adventure。〃



Lucy　said　that　this　was　most　kind；　and　at　once　opened　the

Baedeker；　to　see　where　Santa　Croce　was。



〃Tut；　tut！　Miss　Lucy！　I　hope　we　shall　soon　emancipate　you　from

Baedeker。　He　does　but　touch　the　surface　of　things。　As　to　the　true

Italyhe　does　not　even　dream　of　it。　The　true　Italy　is　only　to　be

found　by　patient　observation。〃



This　sounded　very　interesting；　and　Lucy　hurried　over　her

breakfast；　and　started　with　her　new　friend　in　high　spirits。　Italy

was　coming　at　last。　The　Cockney　Signora　and　her　works　had

vanished　like　a　bad　dream。



Miss　Lavishfor　that　was　the　clever　lady's　nameturned　to　the

right　along　the　sunny　Lung'　Arno。　How　delightfully　warm！　But　a

wind　down　the　side　streets　cut　like　a　knife；　didn't　it？　Ponte

alle　Grazieparticularly　interesting；　mentioned　by　Dante。　San

Miniatobeautiful　as　well　as　interesting；　the　crucifix　that

kissed　a　murdererMiss　Honeychurch　would　remember　the　story。　The

men　on　the　river　were　fishing。　（Untrue；　but　then；　so　is　most

information。）　Then　Miss　Lavish　darted　under　the　archway　of　the

white　bullocks；　and　she　stopped；　and　she　cried：



〃A　smell！　a　true　Florentine　smell！　Every　city；　let　me　teach　you；

has　its　own　smell。〃



〃Is　it　a　very　nice　smell？〃　said　Lucy；　who　had　inherited　from　her

mother　a　distaste　to　dirt。



〃One　doesn't　come　to　Italy　for　niceness；〃　was　the　retort；　〃one

comes　for　life。　Buon　giorno！　Buon　giorno！〃　bowing　right　and

left。　〃Look　at　that　adorable　wine…cart！　How　the　driver　stares　at

us；　dear；　simple　soul！〃



So　Miss　Lavish　proceeded　through　the　streets　of　the　city　of

Florence；　short；　fidgety；　and　playful　as　a　kitten；　though　without

a　kitten's　grace。　It　was　a　treat　for　the　girl　to　be　with　any　one

so　clever　and　so　cheerful；　and　a　blue　military　cloak；　such　as　an

Italian　officer　wears；　only　increased　the　sense　of　festivity。



〃Buon　giorno！　Take　the　word　of　an　old　woman；　Miss　Lucy：　you　will

never　repent　of　a　little　civility　to　your　inferiors。　That　is　the

true　democracy。　Though　I　am　a　real　Radical　as　well。　There；　now

you're　shocked。〃



〃Indeed；　I'm　not！〃　exclaimed　Lucy。　〃We　are　Radicals；　too；　out　and

out。　My　father　always　voted　for　Mr。　Gladstone；　until　he　was　so

dreadful　about　Ireland。〃



〃I　see；　I　see。　And　now　you　have　gone　over　to　the　enemy。〃



〃Oh；　please！　If　my　father　was　alive；　I　am　sure　he　would　vote

Radical　again　now　that　Ireland　is　all　right。　And　as　it　is；　the

glass　over　our　front　door　was　broken　last　election；　and　Freddy　is

sure　it　was　the　Tories；　but　mother　says　nonsense；　a　tramp。〃



〃Shameful！　A　manufacturing　district；　I　suppose？〃



〃Noin　the　Surrey　hills。　About　five　miles　from　Dorking；　looking

over　the　Weald。〃



Miss　Lavish　seemed　interested；　and　slackened　her　trot。



〃What　a　delightful　part；　I　know　it　so　well。　It　is　full　of　the

very　nicest　people。　Do　you　know　Sir　Harry　Otwaya　Radical　if

ever　there　was？〃



〃Very　well　indeed。〃



〃And　old　Mrs。　Butterworth　the　philanthropist？〃　〃Why；　she　rents　a

field　of　us！　How　funny！〃



Miss　Lavish　looked　at　the　narrow　ribbon　of　sky；　and　murmured：

〃Oh；　you　have　property　in　Surrey？〃



〃Hardly　any；〃　said　Lucy；　fearful　of　being　thought　a　snob。　〃Only

thirty　acresjust　the　garden；　all　downhill；　and　some　fields。〃



Miss　Lavish　was　not　disgusted；　and　said　it　was　just　the　size　of

her　aunt's　Suffolk　estate。　Italy　receded。　They　tried　to　remember

the　last　name　of　Lady　Louisa　some　one；　who　had　taken　a　house　near

Summer　Street　the　other　year；　but　she　had　not　liked　it；　which　was

odd　of　her。　And　just　as　Miss　Lavish　had　got　the　name；　she　broke

off　and　exclaimed：



〃Bless　us！　Bless　us　and　save　us！　We've　lost　the　way。〃



Certainly　they　had　seemed　a　long　time　in　reaching　Santa　Croce；

the　tower　of　which　had　been　plainly　visible　from　the　landing

window。　But　Miss　Lavish　had　said　so　much　about　knowing　her

Florence　by　heart；　that　Lucy　had　followed　her　with　no　misgivings。



〃Lost！　lost！　My　dear　Miss　Lucy；　during　our　political　diatribes　we

have　taken　a　wrong　turning。　How　those　horrid　Conservatives　would

jeer　at　us！　What　are　we　to　do？　Two　lone　females　in　an　unknown

town。　Now；　this　is　what　I　call　an　adventure。〃



Lucy；　who　wanted　to　see　Santa　Croce；　suggested；　as　a　possible

solution；　that　they　should　ask　the　way　there。



〃Oh；　but　that　is　the　word　of　a　craven！　And　no；　you　are　not；　not；

NOT　to　look　at　your　Baedeker。　Give　it　to　me；　I　shan't　let　you

carry　it。　We　will　simply　drift。〃



Accordingly　they　drifted　through　a　series　of　those　grey…brown

streets；　neither　commodious　nor　picturesque；　in　which　the　eastern

quarter　of　the　city　abounds。　Lucy　soon　lost　interest　in　the

discontent　of　Lady　Louisa；　and　became　discontented　herself。　For

one　ravishing　moment　Italy　appeared。　She　stood　in　the　Square　of

the　Annunziata　and　saw　in　the　living　terra…cotta　those　divine

babies　whom　no　cheap　reproduction　can　ever　stale。　There　they

stood；　with　their　shining　limbs　bursting　from　the　garments　of

charity；　and　their　strong　white　arms　extended　against　circlets　of

heaven。　Lucy　thought　she　had　never　seen　anything　more　beautiful；

but　Miss　Lavish；　with　a　shriek　of　dismay；　dragged　her　forward；

declaring　that　they　were　out　of　their　path　now　by　at　least　a

mile。



The　hour　was　approaching　at　which　the　continental　breakfast

begins；　or　rather　ceases；　to　tell；　and　the　ladies　bought　some　hot

chestnut　paste　out　of　a　little　shop；　because　it　looked　so

typical。　It　tasted　partly　of　the　paper　in　which　it　was　wrapped；

partly　of　hair　oil；　partly　of　the　great　unknown。　But　it　gave　them

strength　to　drift　into　another　Piazza；　large　and　dusty；　on　the

farther　side　of　which　rose　a　black…and…white　facade　of　surpassing

ugliness。　Miss　Lavish　spoke　to　it　dramatically。　It　was　Santa

Croce。　The　adventure　was　over。



〃Stop　a　minute；　let　those　two　people　go　on；　or　I　shall　have　to

speak　to　them。　I　do　detest　conventional　intercourse。　Nasty！　they

are　going　into　the　church；　too。　Oh；　the　Britisher　abroad！〃



〃We　sat　opposite　them　at　dinner　last　night。　They　have　given　us

their　rooms。　They　were　so　very　kind。〃



〃Look　at　their　figures！〃　laughed　Miss　Lavish。　〃They　walk　through

my　Italy　like　a　pair　of　cows。　It's　very　naughty　of　me；　but　I

would　like　to　set　an　examination　paper　at　Dover；　and　turn　back

every　tourist　who　couldn't　pass　it。〃



〃What　would　you　ask　us？〃



Miss　Lavish　laid　her　hand　pleasantly　on　Lucy's　arm；　as　if　to

suggest　that　she；　at　all　events；　would　get　full　marks。　In　this

exalted　mood　they　reached　the　steps　of　the　great　church；　and　were

about　to　enter　it　when　Miss　Lavish　stopped；　squeaked；　flung　up

her　arms；　and　cried：



〃There　goes　my　local…colour　box！　I　must　have　a　word　with　him！〃



And　in　a　moment　she　was　away　over　the　Piazza；　her　military　cloak

flapping　in　the　wind；　nor　did　she　slacken　speed　till　she　caught

up　an　old　man　with　white　whiskers；　and　nipped　him　playfully　upon

the　arm。



Lucy　waited　for　nearly　ten　minutes。　Then　she　began　to　get　tired。

The　beggars　worried　her；　the　dust　blew　in　her　eyes；　and　she

remembered　that　a　young　girl　ought　not　to　loiter　in　public

places。　She　descended　slowly　into　the　Piazza　with　the　intention

of　rejoining　Miss　Lavish；　who　was　really　almost　too　original。　But

at　that　moment　Miss　Lavish　and　her　local…colour　box　moved　also；

and　disappeared　down　a　side　street；　both　gesticulating　largely。

Tears　of　indignation　came　to　Lucy's　eyes　partly　because　Miss

Lavish　had　jilted　her；　partly　because　she　had　taken　her　Baedeker。

How　could　she　find　her　way　home？　How　could　she　find　her　way　about

in　Santa　Croce？　Her　first　morning　was　ruined；　and　she　might　never

be　in　Florence　again。　A　few　minutes　ago　she　had　been　all　high

spirits；　talking　as　a　woman　of　culture；　and　half　persuading

herself　that　she　was　full　of　originality。　Now　she　entered　the

church　depressed　and　humiliated；　not　even　able　to　remember

whether　it　was　built　by　the　Franciscans　or　the　Dominicans。

Of　course；　it　must　be　a　wonderful　building。　But　how　like　a　barn！

And　how　very　cold！　Of　course；　it　contained　frescoes　by　Giotto；　in

the　presence　of　whose　tactile　values　she　was　capable　of　feeling

what　was　proper。　But　who　was　to　tell　her　which　they　were？　She

walked　about　disdainfully；　unwilling　to　be　enthusiastic　over

monuments　of　uncertain　authorship　or　date。　There　was　no　one　even

to　tell　her　which；　of　all　the　sepulchral　slabs　that　paved　the

nave　and　transepts；　was　the　one　that　was　really　beautiful；　the

one　that　had　been　most　praised　by　Mr。　Ruskin。



Then　the　pernicious　charm　of　Italy　worked　on　her；　and；　instead　of

acquiring　information；　she　began　to　be　happy。　She　puzzled　out　the

Italian　noticesthe　notices　that　forbade　people　to　introduce

dogs　into　the　churchthe　notice　that　prayed　people；　in　the

interest　of　health　and　out　of　respect　to