Chapter 10 chapter Ten

The Kents honeymooned in a fisherman's hut in Cabins Waters, a place whose romantic and musical name fascinated Basil; Leaning lazily on the colorful seashore.The old man who rented their house was kind and simple, and Basil was particularly fond of hearing his stories of catching sardines, of the storm that sent countless wrecks flying by the sea, and of the conflict between fishermen from St. Ives and provincials from Lowestoft. Fierce battle.He also told of the revival of activities in the country, of calling sinners to confession, and of his own salvation in an unforgettable situation.Now, he confessed to his newfound faith in wild enthusiasm, but remained as devoted as ever to the strangers who came to his house.The old fisherman was tall and haggard, his face was covered with wrinkles, and his eyes were burned by the sea light. He looked like the most authentic expression of the countryside—the madness of the abandoned mine, but also gentle; Barren and dull.To Basil, tired of last month's emotional strife, the rare grandeur of the southern lands had an incomparably quiet charm.

One afternoon, they walked up a hillside, wanting to see some novelties in the area, and there was a tombstone on the top of the hill.Jenny was not interested in any of this, she just felt so tired that she sat down to rest while Basil went on wandering.He walked among the gorse-flowers, crimson and emerald green; and the soft and delicate amethyst-like heather: some children plucked them and threw them aside, so they withered in the grass, purple faded, It is like a symbol of the decline of imperial power.Basil suddenly remembered those most poetic poets, those extremely terse words, those phrases from the sad and passionate "Holy Death" that Jeremy Taylor kept reciting to himself: " Break the sickbed, drink the wine dry, wear the crown of roses, soil the locks of dry pine; for God bids you remember death."

Standing at the foot of the hill, he overlooked the rolling valley--it looked spectacular from a distance, with calm streams, like an old Italian town full of bright colors and full of laughter and laughter in a dim paradise.The sky was gray and gloomy, and the clouds pregnant with rain covered the mountaintops like a thin veil of dying pagan souls wandering alone in this grotesque Christian legend.There was a row of dry trees on the top of the hill, and Basil, who had traveled through the region earlier in the year, found them out of step with the summer, an eerie darkness over the colors of a Cornish June.Now, however, all natural scenes merged into a harmony, and the gnarled trunks of the leafless trees were silent and peaceful, as if they had discovered something extraordinary in the eternal level of things.Green leaves and flowers seem worthless, as fleeting and yet constant as butterflies and April breezes.Here and there were dead ferns, as brown as the earth beneath them, the first summer plants to wither, chilled to death by the mild September winds.There was silence all around, and Basil seemed to hear the sound of rooks flapping their wings. They were flying over the fields, but at this moment Basil heard the call of London strangely in his mind.Basil especially enjoyed this solitude, for he was used to being alone early on, and the company of people after marriage bored him from time to time.He began to plan for his future.There is no reason for Jenny not to yearn for a world wider than her original world; she is by no means a fool, as long as Basil has enough patience, slowly, she may also become interested in the things he is interested in: It is a wonderful thing to show a soul its beauty.But his enthusiasm was short-lived, for after descending he found Jenny asleep, her head thrown back, her hat covering one eye, her mouth open.Seeing this, his heart sank, because he saw another side of Jenny that he had never seen before: in this soft and elegant beauty, her clothes looked so vulgar and rough, and he Suddenly those piercing eyes saw that behind Jenny's beauty lay a side of her brother that he hated.

Fearing rain, Basil woke her up and suggested that they should go home.Jenny looked at him affectionately and smiled. "Did you see how I fell asleep just now? Did I open my mouth when I fell asleep?" "yes." "I must look really bad." "Where did you get your hat?" he asked. "I made it myself. Do you like it?" "I think the colors are too bright." "It suits me," she replied, "these colors always go well with me." There was a drizzle in Cornwall, seeping into the ground like a human misfortune, and finally, towards the end of the day, the rain picked up.In the mist the country was plunged into darkness that night.However, at this moment, Basil's heart was darker than this scene. It was only a short week, and he began to feel afraid, fearing that the task he had taken on with confidence was completely beyond his ability. scope.

On his return to London, Basil moved his furniture into the cottage he had bought in Barnes.He liked the old style of the high street because it preserved a certain rustic simplicity, while his cottage was in a long row of dreary identical suburban dwellings: The author arranged fifty small houses on either side, making them identifiable only by numbers or pompous names on fan-shaped transom windows.The couple spent two or three weeks tidying up their home, and then Basil returned to the monotony he enjoyed, devoting most of his time to work.He would go to the office very early each day, where he was aide to the "Queen's Counsel," waiting for the briefing that never came, and then take the train back to Barnes at five o'clock.Then it was a walk with Jenny, after dinner he would write all the time, and then he would go to bed.Now, in a way, Basil is content with his quiet married life; his problems are solved and he can concentrate on his writing.There was evidently some magic in marriage, for Basil gradually developed a more serious and deeper love for Jenny.He was delighted by her admiration for him, and moved by her humility and obedience.He was looking forward to the birth of their child with all his heart.They were all convinced it must be a boy, and they went on and on about "him," and never tired of discussing everything about "him": what hairstyle "he" should have, where he should go to school.As Basil imagined this beautiful woman nursing his child, she was more beautiful than ever, and he was filled with gratitude and pride; During the honeymoon, he regretted his recklessness for a while.

Jenny felt extremely happy.She was a bit lazy by nature, so she was very happy to get rid of her job in the Golden Crown Bar, and she didn't have to do anything anymore.As soon as she beckoned, someone would come to serve her. She regarded it as a great enjoyment to sit lazily and watch the servant work.She was also proud of her little home and its furniture, and she was content to polish the pictures at home because she thought they were terrible; Basil said they were beautiful, and what she knew was that they could be worth a lot money.Likewise, Jenny adores her husband more and more because she neither understands his thoughts nor empathizes with his ambitions.She just adored him blindly.It was torture to her when he went into town, and she would always see him to the gate and bid him farewell there.When he was expected to come home, she always pricked up her ears for the possible sound of footsteps, and sometimes, she couldn't wait to go out to meet him.

Basil did not have much talent in dealing with people, he never demanded too much from others; however, he wanted to shape the people he came in contact with according to his own ideas.Jenny had terrible taste, and her ignorance, so unsuitable for his wife, was at times frustrating.In order to educate her unconsciously, like eating powder spread on jam, so that Jenny would acquire relevant knowledge unconsciously, Basil gave her many books and asked her to read.But although she accepted them resignedly, it did not mean that Basil's choice was perfect, for after less than a quarter of an hour of diligence, Jenny threw down the books, and spent the rest of the morning with her family. maid chatting intimately.However, if at any time she craved literary food, she would buy a short story from the station newsstand and stash it away when Basil came home.Once, Basil accidentally found a novel entitled "Rosamund's Revenge" at home, for which Jenny explained that the book belonged to a maid.For a penny, Mrs. Kent could read a long, macabre romance, in which the handsome, noble hero closely resembled Basil, and the most daring character seemed to resemble herself; Under the mattress of her bed, she hides her favorite novel. In this novel, a noble maid sacrifices herself. Jenny's heart is full of emotion for this story, just because she thinks that if she puts herself in a similar environment , she was also very willing to risk her life for Basil.And Basil, who knew nothing about all this, always discussed with her the books he gave her, but he didn't realize how shallow her knowledge was.

"Basil, I wish you would read your book to me," Jenny said one evening. "You never told me about your writing." "My dear, that will only bore you." "You don't think I'm smart enough to understand it, do you?" "Of course not! Of course I'd be more than happy to read you some if you wish me to." "I'm really glad you're a novelist. It's a very unusual thing, isn't it? I'll be very proud when I see your name on the page. Now, read a little Will you listen to me?" No matter how crazy a writer's naysayers may be, they usually do not resent the request to read their unpublished work; There will be a slight discount.Basil especially needs approval at this time, because he is full of doubts about himself, and if someone can appreciate his work at this moment, then he will do better.He is very eager for Jenny to be interested in his writing. He has not mentioned a word to her so far, just because of his shyness.

The setting of his novel is Italy in the early sixteenth century.One day after he returned from South Africa, in the National Art Museum, this scene suddenly came into his mind. After appreciating those beautiful works of art, people will be particularly sensitive to the perception of beauty.He walked up and down among the paintings in the gallery, admiring some of the old ones he liked, and this serious, quiet place gave him more pleasure than love or wine; Happy, lofty and calm, and rewarding.Finally, he came to a portrait of an Italian nobleman painted by Moretto, which, to an imaginative mind, expressed all the spirit of the post-Renaissance era.Incredibly, the painting was especially to his taste.He felt that drawing beautiful patterns was the ultimate goal of a painter, and with appreciation, he noticed the effect of dark colors on the tall and thin man. On the marble sloping wall, he He looked so sad and listless.People do not know the name of the person in this painting, and his standing posture looks tired and artificial; the tawny background reflects his restrained despair, as empty as a desert place in spiritual life; The sky was cold and sad.The date is given on the drawing, 1526, and the cuffs of his garment are torn and have small holes characteristic of that period (the early enthusiasm of the revival has dissipated; for Michelangelo is dead, and Caesar Borgia fell in distant Navarre); variegated skirts, predominantly a deep cherry, no less than black for the lamentation of color, and delicate muslin shirts with ruffles .One of his ungloved hands rested lazily on the tip of his long sword. His slender and delicate hand was white and soft, like a gentleman and a student.On his head was a strange hat, partly dull yellow, partly bright red, with St. George and a dragon painted on it, and a commemorative ornament on the front.

The face, paler against the black beard, struck Basil deeply; Basil looked at it with longing, a blank look in his eyes, as if the world had no value but disillusionment .Now, looking at the figures in the painting, Basil began to meditate, conceived a story, and spent several months writing it down. time at the British Museum.Finally, he finally started to write.He wanted to describe Italian society at that time: after the fall of Constantinople, Italy ushered in a new era of human intelligence, a period in which free thought was popular, and the whole society experienced a profound awakening.It made men at the time seem to be joining a battle, with a burning desire to enjoy every moment, only to find it was pointless and back away in despair because the world had nothing more to offer.Accustomed to the flattery of princes and the curtains of Condogtieri's mercenaries, the hero of the novel experiences emotions, brutal combat, love and intrigue, writes poems and talks about Plato's philosophy.Writing was an attractive profession, but Basil saw it only as a way of expressing his state of mind, for he wanted to show his disdain for common themes by avoiding sensational descriptions, and he wished only to engage in some spiritual analyze.

Such themes gave room to the refined style Basil favored, and he began to read, emphasizing the rhythm of the sentences and the joy of the music.His Elizabethan vocabulary was gorgeous and moving, and the beauty of some words even intoxicated him.But eventually, he stopped abruptly. "Jenny?" he asked. No one answered, so he discovered that she had fallen asleep.In order not to wake her up, he closed the book and carefully got up from the chair.There would be no need to read to her if she couldn't even stay awake, and he came to his table with some confusion.Soon, however, his sense of humor saves him from worry. "How silly of me!" he cried, laughing. "Why do you think she's interested in these things?" And Mrs. Murray had listened to the same passage with great interest, and thought highly of it.Basil remembered that Molière had read some comedies to his cook, and if she found them boring, he would rewrite them.Had it been a test like this, Basil could have ruined his novel; but he soon told himself hastily that he was writing for a few, not for the general public. Feeling that he was not with her, Jenny woke up quickly. "My God! I wasn't asleep just now, was I?" "You're still snoring." "I'm so sorry. Did I disturb you?" "No." "I can't help it. I feel sleepy when you're reading it. But Basil, I really like it." "It's not easy to write a book with a hypnotic effect." He replied with a cold smile. "Read me a little more. I'm so sober now, and you write beautifully." "If you don't mind, I'd like to work a little longer." A few days later, Jenny's mother, who had never seen Basil and never came to see them, arrived at the door.She was a fat, determined woman, and she wore a black satin dress that might be hard to believe was her best Sunday attire; and she had a strange feeling that the day had fallen into chaos , and there is a Sabbath in the middle of the week.Unlike Basil, Jenny always insisted on saving their best things for special occasions, so they usually made tea out of earthenware. "Mum, you don't mind if I don't bring out the silver teapot?" she asked when they sat down. "We don't use silver teapots every day." "Honey, I don't come to see you every day." Mrs. Bush replied, stroking her black satin dress, "but I think I am nothing to you now because you are married No. Won't you sit down and drink your tea?" "Basil likes tea in the drawing room," replied Jenny, filling each teacup with milk. "Oh, I feel bad. Tea is my favorite, Jenny, and you know that." "Yes, Mom." "I've been telling you that if there are only a few slices of buttered bread on a plate, and the amount of butter spread on it is so small that it's almost invisible, it gives the impression that the owner is being very mean." "Basil likes that." "In my house, I have my own rules. Don't give in to your husband at home, dear, or he will think everything is as it should be." At this moment Basil came in, and Jenny introduced him to her mother, and looked at her nervously, hoping that she would behave properly.Mrs. Bush, in awe of Basil's formal manners, was careful to appear utterly ladylike, picking up her teacup with the most graceful gestures.After making some polite comments, Basil fell silent, and for the next five minutes the two women had a difficult conversation about trivial matters.At this time, a carriage stopped at their door, and the servant immediately announced that Mrs. Murray had come. "I think you'll allow me to call on you," she said, extending her hand to Jenny. "I'm an old friend of your husband's." Jenny blushed and recoiled, but Basil appeared to be very pleased, and shook Mrs. Murray's hand warmly. "It's very kind of you to come. Just in time for tea." "I'd love to have some tea." She sat down, looking gracious and composed, while Mrs Bush pored profusely at her gown.But Jenny was now beginning to realize that they had set out only ordinary tea things. "I'll get some tea again," she said. "Fanny can do it, Jenny." "No, I'll do it myself, I locked up the tea. I must do it myself." Turning to Mrs. Murray, she added, "Those girls are dishonest." She hurried away, after which Basil began to ask eagerly how Mrs. Murray had found them. "I find it dreadful that you didn't write to tell me where you lived. Miss Ley gave me your address." "This place is interesting, don't you think? You need to cross the high street to get here. It's so strange and quaint." They chatted cheerfully, almost forgetting Mrs. Bush was watching them sullenly.And she often said that she was not a woman willing to be a victim. "It's a nice day today, isn't it?" she interrupted slightly aggressively. "It's very pretty!" replied Mrs. Murray cheerfully. Before Mrs. Bush could make a further response, Basil asked Mrs. Murray when she would go to Italy.Fortunately, Jenny came in just at that moment, and her mother saw that she brought out the silver teapot.She was annoyed by it, very unhappy, but just sat there without saying a word.She is a person who gets angry easily.She also noticed that Basil, who had been almost silent before Mrs. Murray's arrival, was now chattering.He described with humor the difficulties they encountered during the move, and though Mrs. Murray found it all amusing, Mrs. Bush found no joy in it. Finally, the visitor rose to leave. "I really must go. Good-bye, Mrs. Kent. You must come and see me with your husband." She left, and the silk cloth on her body also rustled.Basil accompanied her downstairs. "Mother, she came in a carriage," said Jenny, who was looking down from the window. "Honey, I can see that," Mrs. Bush replied. "Does Basil look aristocratic?" Jenny, who adored her husband deeply, asked her mother. "Aristocrats have aristocratic airs." Mother replied coldly. They saw Basil talking and laughing with Mrs. Murray at the door.Then Mrs. Murray gave the coachman a direction, and they walked slowly up the street, with the coachman following them. "Jenny!" Mrs. Bush exclaimed in surprise, panic and anger. "I was wondering where they would go." Jenny said, turning her face away. "Honey, listen to me, you have to watch out for your man. If I were you, I wouldn't trust him too much. You tell him that your mother, like everyone else, can see through brick walls... besides , did he mention this female friend of his to you?" "Yes, mother, he speaks of her often," replied Jenny with difficulty, for in fact, up to this day, she had never heard of Mrs. Murray's name at all. "Then you tell him that you don't want to hear anything more about her. You must be careful, my dear! When your father and I were first married, I went through a lot of difficulties. But I stood my ground. , let him understand that I am the one who will not compromise for his absurdity." "I wondered, why didn't Basil come back?" "And, if you'd like to listen, I can tell you that your father never introduced me to his girlfriends. I think maybe I'm not good enough." "Mother!" "Oh dear, don't talk to me. I think you've treated me so badly, both of you, and it's been like a year since I came here from the comfort of my home today." At this moment Basil returned, and he saw at once that Mrs. Bush was troubled. "Hehe, what's the matter?" He asked with a smile. "It's no laughing matter, Mr. Kent," replied the angry housewife with some dignity. "I tell you frankly, I don't deny it. I wish I could be treated like a lady, and I think Jenny used A six-and-a-halfpence teapot is quite inappropriate to make my tea--you can't deny, my dear, that they're worth that much, because what you know, I know too." "We'll take care of that next time," replied Basil kindly. "And after your female friend arrived, Jenny quickly took out the silver tea set. I don't think I'm worth your trouble." "I've always felt that tea made from pottery tea sets tastes better." Basil commented kindly. "Oh yes, I think so too!" replied Mrs. Bush sarcastically, "and to catch a sparrow you just put salt on its tail. Goodbye!" "Mom, are you leaving?" "I know I'm not popular, and I won't wait for you to drive me away, because I still know myself." And Basil was in high spirits at the moment, and this temper of Mrs. Bush amused him too. "Basil, where were you just now?" Jenny asked after her mother strutted out of the house defiantly. "I just sent Mrs. Murray off the block. I thought it would be polite." Jenny didn't answer again.Basil, having talked freely with his unexpected visitor about the progress of his writing, and still thinking of the amusing thing she had just told him, did not notice his wife's silence.She had said very little all that evening, and Basil's rare exaltation had struck her deeply.He joked all through dinner, unaware of his wife's lack of response.After that, he went straight back to the table to start his work.At this moment, inspiration came to him one after another, and he began to write vigorously.But Jenny, who was pretending to read, kept paying attention to him.