silas marner(织工马南)-第2节
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loom； and； opening the door； would fix on them a gaze that was
always enough to make them take to their legs in terror。 For how
was it possible to believe that those large brown protuberant eyes
in Silas Marner’s pale face really saw nothing very distinctly that
was not close to them； and not rather that their dreadful stare
could dart cramp； or rickets； or a wry mouth at any boy who
happened to be in the rear？ They had； perhaps； heard their
fathers and mothers hint that Silas Marner could cure folk’s
rheumatism if he had a mind； and add； still more darkly； that if
you could only speak the devil fair enough； he might save you the
cost of the doctor。 Such strange； lingering echoes of the old
demon…worship might perhaps even now be caught by the diligent
listener among the gray…haired peasantry； for the rude mind with
difficulty associates the ideas of power and benignity。 A shadowy
conception of power that by much persuasion can be induced to
refrain from inflicting harm； is the shape most easily taken by the
sense of the Invisible in the minds of men who have always been
pressed close by primitive wants； and to whom a life of hard toil
has never been illuminated by any enthusiastic religious faith。 To
them pain and mishap present a far wider range of possibilities
than gladness and enjoyment： their imagination is almost barren
of the images that feed desire and hope； but is all overgrown by
recollections that are a perpetual pasture to fear。 “Is there
anything you can fancy that you would like to eat？” I once said to
an old labouring…man； who was in his last illness； and who had
refused all the food his wife had offered him。 “No；” he answered；
“I’ve never been used to nothing but common victual； and I can’t
eat that。” Experience had bred no fancies in him that could raise
the phantasm of appetite。
George Eliot ElecBook Classics
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Silas Marner 10
And Raveloe was a village where many of the old echoes
lingered； undrowned by new voices。 Not that it was one of those
barren parishes lying on the outskirts of civilization—inhabited by
meagre sheep and thinly scattered shepherds： on the contrary； it
lay in the rich； central plain of what we are pleased to call Merry
England； and held farms which； speaking from a spiritual point of
view； paid highly desirable tithes。 But it was nestled in a snug；
well…wooded hollow； quite an hour’s journey on horseback from
any turnpike； where it was never reached by the vibrations of the
coach…horn； or of public opinion。 It was an important…looking
village； with a fine old church； and large churchyard in the heart
of it； and two or three large brick…and…stone homesteads； with
well…walled orchards and ornamental weathercocks； standing
close upon the road； and lifting more imposing fronts than the
rectory； which peeped from among the trees on the other side of
the churchyard—a village which showed at once the summits of its
social life； and told the practised eye that there was no great park
and manor…house in the vicinity； but that there were several chiefs
in Raveloe who could farm badly quite at their ease； drawing
enough money from their bad farming； in those wartimes； to live
in a rollicking fashion； and keep a jolly Christmas； Whitsun； and
Eastertide。
It was fifteen years since Silas Marner had first come to
Raveloe： he was then simply a pallid young man； with prominent；
short…sighted brown eyes； whose appearance would have had
nothing strange for people of average culture and experience； but
for the villagers near whom he had come to settle it had
mysterious peculiarities which corresponded with the exceptional
nature of his occupation； and his advent from an unknown region
George Eliot ElecBook Classics
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Silas Marner 11
called “North’ard”。 So had his way of life： he invited no comer to
step across his door…sill； and he never strolled into the village to
drink a pint at the Rainbow； or to gossip at the wheelwright’s； he
sought no man or woman； save for the purposes of his calling； or in
order to supply himself with necessaries； and it was soon clear to
the Raveloe lasses that he would never urge one of them to accept
him against her will—quite as if he had heard them declare that
they would never marry a dead man come to life again。 This view
of Marner’s personality was not without another ground than his
pale face and unexampled eyes； for Jem Rodney； the molecatcher；
averred that one evening as he was returning homeward he saw
Silas Marner leaning against a stile with a heavy bag on his back；
instead of resting the bag on the stile as a man in his senses would
have done； and that； on coming up to him； he saw that Marner’s
eyes were set like a dead man’s； and he spoke to him； and shook
him； and his limbs were stiff； and his hands clutched the bag as if
they’d been made of iron； but just as he had made up his mind
that the weaver was dead； he came all right again； like； as you
might say； in the winking of an eye； and said “Good…night”； and
walked off。 All this Jem swore he had seen； more by token that it
was the very day he had been molecatching on Squire Cass’s land；
down by the old saw…pit。 Some said Marner must have been in a
“fit”—a word which seemed to explain things otherwise
incredible； but the argumentative Mr。 Macey； clerk of the parish；
shook his head； and asked if anybody was ever known to go off in a
fit and not fall down。 A fit was a stroke； wasn’t it？ and it was in the
nature of a stroke to partly take away the use of a man’s limbs and
throw him on the parish； if he’d got no children to look to。 No； no；
it was no stroke that would let a man stand on his legs； like a horse
George Eliot ElecBook Classics
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Silas Marner 12
between the shafts； and then walk off as soon as you can say
“Gee！” But there might be such a thing as a man’s soul being loose
from his body； and going out and in； like a bird out of its nest and
back； and that was how folks got overwise； for they went to school
in this shell…less state to those who could teach them more than
their neighbours could learn with their five senses and the parson。
And where did Master Marner get his knowledge of herbs from—
and charms too； if he liked to give them away？ Jem Rodney’s story
was no more than what might have been expected by anybody
who had seen how Marner had cured Sally Oates； and made her
sleep like a baby； when her heart had been beating enough to
burst her body； for two months and more； while she had been
under the doctor’s care。 He might cure more folks if he would； but
he was worth speaking fair； if it was only to keep him from doing
you a mischief。
It was partly to this vague fear that Marner was indebted for
protecting him from the persecution that his singularities might
have drawn upon him； but still more to the fact that； the old linen…
weaver in the neighbouring parish of Tarley being dead； his
handicraft made him a highly welcome settler to the richer
housewives of the district； and even to the more provident
cottagers； who had their little stock of yarn at the year’s end。 Their
sense of his usefulness would have counteracted any repugnance
or suspicion which was not confirmed by a deficiency in the
quality or the tale of the cloth he wove for them。 And the years had
rolled on without producing any change in the impressions of the
neighbours concerning Marner； except the change from novelty to
habit。 At
