书城小说霍桑经典短篇小说(英文原版)
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第133章 A Select Party(1)

A man of fancy made an entertainment at one of ofhis castles in the air, and invited a select number ofdistinguished personages to favor him with their presence.

The mansion, though less splendid than many that havebeen situated in the same region, was, nevertheless, ofa magnificence such as is seldom witnessed by thoseacquainted only with terrestrial architecture. Its strongfoundations and massive walls were quarried out of a ledgeof heavy and sombre clouds, which had hung broodingover the earth, apparently as dense and ponderous as itsown granite, throughout a whole autumnal day. Perceivingthat the general effect was gloomy—so that the airy castlelooked like a feudal fortress, or a monastery of the middleages, or a state-prison of our own times, rather than thehome of pleasure and repose which he intended it tobe—the owner, regardless of expense, resolved to gild theexterior from top to bottom. Fortunately, there was justthen a flood of evening sunshine in the air. This beinggathered up and poured abundantly upon the roof andwalls, imbued them with a kind of solemn cheerfulness;while the cupolas and pinnacles were made to glitter withthe purest gold, and all the hundred windows gleamedwith a glad light, as if the edifice itself were rejoicingin its heart. And now, if the people of the lower worldchanced to be looking upward, out of the turmoil of theirpetty perplexities, they probably mistook the castle inthe air for a heap of sunset clouds, to which the magic oflight and shade had imparted the aspect of a fantasticallyconstructed mansion. To such beholders it was unreal,because they lacked the imaginative faith. Had theybeen worthy to pass within its portal, they would haverecognized the truth, that the dominions which the spiritconquers for itself among unrealities, become a thousandtimes more real than the earth whereon they stamp theirfeet, saying, “This is solid and substantial! —this may becalled a fact!”

At the appointed hour, the host stood in his great saloonto receive the company. It was a vast and noble room, thevaulted ceiling of which was supported by double rows ofgigantic pillars, that had been hewn entire out of massesof variegated clouds. So brilliantly were they polished,and so exquisitely wrought by the sculptor’s skill, as toresemble the finest specimens of emerald, porphyry, opal,and chrysolite, thus producing a delicate richness of effect,which their immense size rendered not incompatible withgrandeur. To each of these pillars a meteor was suspended.

Thousands of these ethereal lustres are continuallywandering about the firmament, burning out to waste,yet capable of imparting a useful radiance to any personwho has the art of converting them to domestic purposes.

As managed in the saloon, they are far more economicalthan ordinary lamplight. Such, however, was the intensityof their blaze, that it had been found expedient tocover each meteor with a globe of evening mist, therebymuffling the too potent glow, and soothing it into a mildand comfortable splendor. It was like the brilliancy ofa powerful, yet chastened, imagination; a light whichseemed to hide whatever was unworthy to be noticed,and give effect to every beautiful and noble attribute. Theguests, therefore, as they advanced up the centre of thesaloon, appeared to better advantage than ever before intheir lives.

The first that entered, with old-fashioned punctuality,was a venerable figure in the costume of by-gone days,with his white hair flowing down over his shoulders, anda reverend beard upon his breast. He leaned upon a staff,the tremulous stroke of which, as he set it carefully uponthe floor, reechoed through the saloon at every footstep.

Recognizing at once this celebrated personage, whom it hadcost him a vast deal of trouble and research to discover, thehost advanced nearly three-fourths of the distance, downbetween the pillars, to meet and welcome him.

“Venerable sir,” said the Man of Fancy, bending to thefloor, “the honor of this visit would never be forgotten,were my term of existence to be as happily prolonged asyour own.”

The old gentleman received the compliment withgracious condescension; he then thrust up his spectaclesover his forehead, and appeared to take a critical survey ofthe saloon.

“Never, within my recollection,” observed he, “have Ientered a more spacious and noble hall. But are you surethat it is built of solid materials, and that the structurewill be permanent?”

“Oh, never fear, my venerable friend,” replied the host.

“In reference to a lifetime like your own, it is true, mycastle may well be called a temporary edifice. But it willendure long enough to answer all the purposes for which itwas erected.”

But we forget that the reader has not yet been madeacquainted with the guest. It was no other than thatuniversally accredited character, so constantly referred toin all seasons of intense cold or heat—he that remembersthe hot Sunday and the cold Friday—the witness of apast age, whose negative reminiscences find their wayinto every newspaper, yet whose antiquated and duskyabode is so overshadowed by accumulated years, andcrowded back by modern edifices, that none but the Manof Fancy could have discovered it—it was, in short, thattwin-brother of Time, and great-grandsire of mankind,and hand-and-glove associate of all forgotten men andthings, the Oldest Inhabitant! The host would willinglyhave drawn him into conversation, but succeeded only ineliciting a few remarks as to the oppressive atmosphere ofthis present summer evening, compared with one whichthe guest had experienced, about four-score years ago.

The old gentleman, in fact, was a good deal overcome byhis journey among the clouds, which, to a frame so earthincrustedby long continuance in a lower region, was unavoidably more fatiguing than to younger spirits. Hewas therefore conducted to an easy-chair, well cushioned,and stuffed with vaporous softness, and left to take a littlerepose.