第 1 节
作者:交通工具类:沧海一叶舟      更新:2021-03-08 19:36      字数:9322
  Padre Ignacio
  Or The Song of Temptation
  by Owen Wister
  I
  At Santa Ysabel del Mar the season was at one of those moments when the
  air rests quiet over land and sea。 The old breezes were gone; the new
  ones were not yet risen。 The flowers in the mission garden opened wide;
  no wind came by day or night to shake the loose petals from their stems。
  Along the basking; silent; many…colored shore gathered and lingered the
  crisp odors of the mountains。 The dust hung golden and motionless long
  after the rider was behind the hill; and the Pacific lay like a floor of
  sapphire; whereon to walk beyond the setting sun into the East。 One white
  sail shone there。 Instead of an hour; it had been from dawn till
  afternoon in sight between the short headlands; and the Padre had hoped
  that it might be the ship his homesick heart awaited。 But it had slowly
  passed。 From an arch in his garden cloisters he was now watching the last
  of it。 Presently it was gone; and the great ocean lay empty。 The Padre
  put his glasses in his lap。 For a short while he read in his breviary;
  but soon forgot it again。 He looked at the flowers and sunny ridges; then
  at the huge blue triangle of sea which the opening of the hills let into
  sight。 〃Paradise;〃 he murmured; 〃need not hold more beauty and peace。 But
  I think I would exchange all my remaining years of this for one sight
  again of Paris or Seville。 May God forgive me such a thought!〃
  Across the unstirred fragrance of oleanders the bell for vespers began to
  ring。 Its tones passed over the Padre as he watched the sea in his
  garden。 They reached his parishioners in their adobe dwellings near by。
  The gentle circles of sound floated outward upon the smooth; immense
  silenceover the vines and pear…trees; down the avenues of the olives;
  into the planted fields; whence women and children began to return; then
  out of the lap of the valley along the yellow uplands; where the men that
  rode among the cattle paused; looking down like birds at the map of their
  home。 Then the sound widened; faint; unbroken; until it met Temptation in
  the guise of a youth; riding toward the Padre from the South; and cheered
  the steps of Temptation's jaded horse。
  〃For a day; one single day of Paris!〃 repeated the Padre; gazing through
  his cloisters at the empty sea。
  Once in the year the mother…world remembered him。 Once in the year; from
  Spain; tokens and home…tidings came to him; sent by certain beloved
  friends of his youth。 A barkentine brought him these messages。 Whenever
  thus the mother…world remembered him; it was like the touch of a warm
  hand; a dear and tender caress; a distant life; by him long left behind;
  seemed to be drawing the exile homeward from these alien shores。 As the
  time for his letters and packets drew near; the eyes of Padre Ignacio
  would be often fixed wistfully upon the harbor; watching for the
  barkentine。 Sometimes; as to…day; he mistook other sails for hers; but
  hers he mistook never。 That Pacific Ocean; which; for all its hues and
  jeweled mists; he could not learn to love; had; since long before his
  day; been furrowed by the keels of Spain。 Traders; and adventurers; and
  men of God had passed along this coast; planting their colonies and
  cloisters; but it was not his ocean。 In the year that we; a thin strip of
  patriots away over on the Atlantic edge of the continent; declared
  ourselves an independent nation; a Spanish ship; in the name of Saint
  Francis; was unloading the centuries of her own civilization at the
  Golden Gate。 San Diego had come earlier。 Then; slowly; as mission after
  mission was built along the soft coast wilderness; new ports were
  establishedat Santa Barbara; and by Point San Luis for San Luis Obispo;
  which lay inland a little way up the gorge where it opened among the
  hills。 Thus the world reached these missions by water; while on land;
  through the mountains; a road led to them; and also to many more that
  were too distant behind the hills for ships to servea rough road; long
  and lonely; punctuated with church towers and gardens。 For the Fathers
  gradually so stationed their settlements that the traveler might each
  morning ride out from one mission and by evening of a day's fair journey
  ride into the next。 A lonely; rough; dangerous road; but lovely; too;
  with a name like musicEl Camino Real。 Like music also were the names of
  the missionsSan Juan Capistrano; San Luis Rey de Francia; San Miguel;
  Santa Ynestheir very list is a song。
  So there; by…and…by; was our continent; with the locomotive whistling
  from Savannah to Boston along its eastern edge; and on the western the
  scattered chimes of Spain ringing among the unpeopIed mountains。 Thus
  grew the two sorts of civilizationnot equally。 We know what has
  happened since。 To…day the locomotive is whistling also from The Golden
  Gate to San Diego; but still the old mission…road goes through the
  mountains; and along it the footsteps of vanished Spain are marked with
  roses; and broken cloisters; and the crucifix。
  But this was 1855。 Only the barkentine brought to Padre Ignacio the signs
  from the world that he once had known and loved so dearly。 As for the new
  world making a rude noise to the northward; he trusted that it might keep
  away from Santa Ysabel; and he waited for the vessel that was overdue
  with its package containing his single worldly luxury。
  As the little; ancient bronze bell continued swinging in the tower; its
  plaintive call reached something in the Padre's memory。 Softly; absently;
  he began to sing。 He took up the slow strain not quite correctly; and
  dropped it; and took  it up again; always in cadence with the bell。
  'musical score appears here'
  At length he heard himself; and; glancing at the belfry; smiled a little。
  〃It is a pretty tune;〃 he said; 〃and it always made me sorry for poor Fra
  Diavolo。 Auber himself confessed to me that he had made it sad and put
  the hermitage bell to go with it; because he too was grieved at having to
  kill his villain; and wanted him; if possible; to die in a religious
  frame of mind。 And Auber touched glasses with me and saidhow well I
  remember it!'Is it the good Lord; or is it merely the devil; that makes
  me always have a weakness for rascals?' I told him it was the devil。 I
  was not a priest then。 I could not be so sure with my answer now。〃 And
  then Padre Ignacio repeated Auber's remark in French: 〃'Est…ce le bon
  Dieu; oui est…ce bien le diable; qui veut tonjours que j'aime les
  coquins?〃 I don't know! I don't know! I wonder if Auber has composed
  anything lately? I wonder who is singing 'Zerlina' now?〃
  He cast a farewell look at the ocean; and took his steps between the
  monastic herbs; the jasmines and the oleanders to the sacristy。 〃At
  least;〃 he said; 〃if we cannot carry with us into exile the friends and
  the places we have loved; music will go whither we go; even to an end of
  the world such as this。Felipe!〃 he called to his organist。 〃Can they
  sing the music I taught them for the Dixit Dominus to…night?〃
  〃Yes; father; surely。〃
  〃Then we will have that。 And; Felipe〃 The Padre crossed the chancel to
  the small; shabby organ。 〃Rise; my child; and listen。 Here is something
  you can learn。 Why; see now if you cannot learn it from a single
  hearing。〃
  The swarthy boy of sixteen stood watching his master's fingers; delicate
  and white; as they played。 Thus; of his own accord; he had begun to watch
  them when a child of six; and the Padre had taken the wild; half…scared;
  spellbound creature and made a musician of him。
  〃There; Felipe!〃 he said now。 〃Can you do it? Slower; and more softly;
  muchacho mio。 It is about the death of a man; and it should go with our
  bell。〃
  The boy listened。 〃Then the father has played it a tone too low;〃 said
  he; 〃for our bell rings the note of sol; or something very near it; as
  the father must surely know。〃 He placed the melody in the right keyan
  easy thing for him; and the Padre was delighted。
  〃Ah; my Felipe;〃 he exclaimed; 〃what could you and I not do if we had a
  better organ! Only a little better! See! above this row of keys would be
  a second row; and many more stops。 Then we would make such music as has
  never yet been heard in California。 But my people are so poor and so few!
  And some day I shall have passed from them; and it will be too late。〃
  〃Perhaps;〃 ventured Felipe; 〃the Americanos〃
  〃They care nothing for us; Felipe。 They are not of our religionor of
  any religion; from what I can hear。 Don't forget my Dixit Dominus。〃
  The Padre retired once more to the sacristy; while the horse that brought
  Temptation came over the hill。
  The hour of service drew near; and as the Padre waited he once again
  stepped out for a look at the ocean; but the blue triangle of water lay
  like a picture in its frame of land; bare as the sky。 〃I think; from the
  color; though;〃 said he; 〃that a little more wind must have begun out
  there。〃
  The bell