twice-told tales- old esther dudley-第1部分

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　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　TWICE…TOLD　TALES

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　OLD　ESTHER　DUDLEY

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　by　Nathaniel　Hawthorne



　　　THE　HOUR　HAD　COME…　the　hour　of　defeat　and　humiliation…　when　Sir

William　Howe　was　to　pass　over　the　threshold　of　the　Province　House；　and

embark；　with　no　such　triumphal　ceremonies　as　he　once　promised　himself；

on　board　the　British　fleet。　He　bade　his　servants　and　military

attendants　go　before　him；　and　lingered　a　moment　in　the　loneliness　of

the　mansion；　to　quell　the　fierce　emotions　that　struggled　in　his

bosom　as　with　a　death　throb。　Preferable；　then；　would　he　have　deemed

his　fate；　had　a　warrior's　death　left　him　a　claim　to　the　narrow

territory　of　a　grave　within　the　soil　which　the　King　had　given　him　to

defend。　With　an　ominous　perception　that；　as　his　departing　footsteps

echoed　adown　the　staircase；　the　sway　of　Britain　was　passing　forever

from　New　England；　he　smote　his　clinched　hand　on　his　brow；　and　cursed

the　destiny　that　had　flung　the　shame　of　a　dismembered　empire　upon　him。

　　　〃Would　to　God；〃　cried　he；　hardly　repressing　his　tears　of　rage；

〃that　the　rebels　were　even　now　at　the　doorstep！　A　blood…stain　upon　the

floor　should　then　bear　testimony　that　the　last　British　ruler　was

faithful　to　his　trust。〃

　　　The　tremulous　voice　of　a　woman　replied　to　his　exclamation。

　　　〃Heaven's　cause　and　the　King's　are　one；〃　it　said。　〃Go　forth；　Sir

William　Howe；　and　trust　in　Heaven　to　bring　back　a　Royal　Governor　in

triumph。〃

　　　Subduing；　at　once；　the　passion　to　which　he　had　yielded　only　in

the　faith　that　it　was　unwitnessed；　Sir　William　Howe　became　conscious

that　an　aged　woman；　leaning　on　a　gold…headed　staff；　was　standing

betwixt　him　and　the　door。　It　was　old　Esther　Dudley；　who　had　dwelt

almost　immemorial　years　in　this　mansion；　until　her　presence　seemed

as　inseparable　from　it　as　the　recollections　of　its　history。　She　was

the　daughter　of　an　ancient　and　once　eminent　family；　which　had　fallen

into　poverty　and　decay；　and　left　its　last　descendant　no　resource

save　the　bounty　of　the　King；　nor　any　shelter　except　within　the　walls

of　the　Province　House。　An　office　in　the　household；　with　merely　nominal

duties；　had　been　assigned　to　her　as　a　pretext　for　the　payment　of　a

small　pension；　the　greater　part　of　which　she　expended　in　adorning

herself　with　an　antique　magnificence　of　attire。　The　claims　of　Esther

Dudley's　gentle　blood　were　acknowledged　by　all　the　successive

Governors；　and　they　treated　her　with　the　punctilious　courtesy　which　it

was　her　foible　to　demand；　not　always　with　success；　from　a　neglectful

world。　The　only　actual　share　which　she　assumed　in　the　business　of

the　mansion　was　to　glide　through　its　passages　and　public　chambers；

late　at　night；　to　see　that　the　servants　had　dropped　no　fire　from　their

flaring　torches；　nor　left　embers　crackling　and　blazing　on　the　hearths。

Perhaps　it　was　this　invariable　custom　of　walking　her　rounds　in　the

hush　of　midnight　that　caused　the　superstition　of　the　times　to　invest

the　old　woman　with　attributes　of　awe　and　mystery；　fabling　that　she　had

entered　the　portal　of　the　Province　House；　none　knew　whence；　in　the

train　of　the　first　Royal　Governor；　and　that　it　was　her　fate　to　dwell

there　till　the　last　should　have　departed。　But　Sir　William　Howe；　if

he　ever　heard　this　legend；　had　forgotten　it。

　　　〃Mistress　Dudley；　why　are　you　loitering　here？〃　asked　he；　with

some　severity　of　tone。　〃It　is　my　pleasure　to　be　the　last　in　this

mansion　of　the　King。〃

　　　〃Not　so；　if　it　please　your　Excellency；〃　answered　the

time…stricken　woman。　〃This　roof　has　sheltered　me　long。　I　will　not　pass

from　it　until　they　bear　me　to　the　tomb　of　my　forefathers。　What　other

shelter　is　there　for　old　Esther　Dudley；　save　the　Province　House　or　the

grave？〃

　　　〃Now　Heaven　forgive　me！〃　said　Sir　William　Howe　to　himself。　〃I　was

about　to　leave　this　wretched　old　creature　to　starve　or　beg。　Take　this；

good　Mistress　Dudley；〃　he　added；　putting　a　purse　into　her　hands。　〃King

George's　head　on　these　golden　guineas　is　sterling　yet；　and　will

continue　so；　I　warrant　you；　even　should　the　rebels　crown　John

Hancock　their　king。　That　purse　will　buy　a　better　shelter　than　the

Province　House　can　now　afford。〃

　　　〃While　the　burden　of　life　remains　upon　me；　I　will　have　no　other

shelter　than　this　roof；〃　persisted　Esther　Dudley；　striking　her　staff

upon　the　floor　with　a　gesture　that　expressed　immovable　resolve。　〃And

when　your　Excellency　returns　in　triumph；　I　will　totter　into　the

porch　to　welcome　you。〃

　　　〃My　poor　old　friend！〃　answered　the　British　General…　and　all　his

manly　and　martial　pride　could　no　longer　restrain　a　gush　of　bitter

tears。　〃This　is　an　evil　hour　for　you　and　me。　The　Province　which　the

King　intrusted　to　my　charge　is　lost。　I　go　hence　in　misfortune…

perchance　in　disgrace…　to　return　no　more。　And　you；　whose　present　being

is　incorporated　with　the　past…　who　have　seen　Governor　after

Governor；　in　stately　pageantry；　ascend　these　steps…　whose　whole　life

has　been　an　observance　of　majestic　ceremonies；　and　a　worship　of　the

King…　how　will　you　endure　the　change？　Come　with　us！　Bid　farewell　to

a　land　that　has　shaken　off　its　allegiance；　and　live　still　under　a

royal　government；　at　Halifax。〃

　　　〃Never；　never！〃　said　the　pertinacious　old　dame。　〃Here　will　I　abide；

and　King　George　shall　still　have　one　true　subject　in　his　disloyal

Province。〃

　　　〃Beshrew　the　old　fool！〃　muttered　Sir　William　Howe；　growing

impatient　of　her　obstinacy；　and　ashamed　of　the　emotion　into　which　he

had　been　betrayed。　〃She　is　the　very　moral　of　old…fashioned

prejudice；　and　could　exist　nowhere　but　in　this　musty　edifice。　Well；

then；　Mistress　Dudley；　since　you　will　needs　tarry；　I　give　the　Province

House　in　charge　to　you。　Take　this　key；　and　keep　it　safe　until

myself；　or　some　other　Royal　Governor；　shall　demand　it　of　you。〃

　　　Smiling　bitterly　at　himself　and　her；　he　took　the　heavy　key　of　the

Province　House；　and　delivering　it　into　the　old　lady's　hands；　drew

his　cloak　around　him　for　departure。　As　the　General　glanced　back　at

Esther　Dudley's　antique　figure；　he　deemed　her　well　fitted　for　such　a

charge；　as　being　so　perfect　a　representative　of　the　decayed　past…　of

an　age　gone　by；　with　its　manners；　opinions；　faith　and　feelings；　all

fallen　into　oblivion　or　scorn…　of　what　had　once　been　a　reality；　but

was　now　merely　a　vision　of　faded　magnificence。　Then　Sir　William　Howe

strode　forth；　smiting　his　clinched　hands　together；　in　the　fierce

anguish　of　his　spirit；　and　old　Esther　Dudley　was　left　to　keep　watch　in

the　lonely　Province　House；　dwelling　there　with　memory；　and　if　Hope

ever　seemed　to　flit　around　her；　still　was　it　Memory　in　disguise。

　　　The　total　change　of　affairs　that　ensued　on　the　departure　of　the

British　troops　did　not　drive　the　venerable　lady　from　her　stronghold。

There　was　not；　for　many　years　afterwards；　a　Governor　of　Massachusetts；

and　the　magistrates；　who　had　charge　of　such　matters；　saw　no

objection　to　Esther　Dudley's　residence　in　the　Province　House；

especially　as　they　must　otherwise　have　paid　a　hireling　for　taking　care

of　the　premises；　which　with　her　was　a　labor　of　love。　And　so　they

left　her　the　undisturbed　mistress　of　the　old　historic　edifice。　Many

and　strange　were　the　fables　which　the　gossips　whispered　about　her；

in　all　the　chimney　corners　of　the　town。　Among　the　time…worn　articles

of　furniture　that　had　been　left　in　the　mansion　there　was　a　tall；

antique　mirror；　which　was　well　worthy　of　a　tale　by　itself；　and　perhaps

may　hereafter　be　the　theme　of　one。　The　gold　of　its　heavily…wrought

frame　was　tarnished；　and　its　surface　so　blurred；　that　the　old

woman's　figure；　whenever　she　paused　before　it；　looked　indistinct　and

ghostlike。　But　it　was　the　general　belief　that　Esther　could　cause　the

Governors　of　the　overthrown　dynasty；　with　the　beautiful　ladies　who　had

once　adorned　their　festivals；　the　Indian　chiefs　who　had　come　up　to　the

Province　House　to　hold　council　or　swear　allegiance；　the　grim

Provincial　warriors；　the　severe　clergymen…　in　short；　all　the　pageantry

of　gone　days…　all　the　figures　that　ever　swept　across　the　broad　plate

of　glass　in　former　times…　she　could　cause　the　whole　to　reappear；　and

people　the　inner　world　of　the　mirror　with　shadows　of　old　life。　Such

legends　as　these；　together　with　the　singularity　of　her　isolated

existence；　her　age；　and　the　infirmity　that　each　added　winter　flung

upon　her；　made　Mistress　Dudley　the　object　both　of　fear　and　pity；　and

it　was　partly　the　result　of　either　sentiment　that；　amid　all　the

angry　license　of　the　times；　neither　wrong　nor　insult　ever　fell　upon

her　unprotected　head。　Indeed；　there　was　so　much　haughtiness　in　her

demeanor　towards　intruders；　among　whom　she　reckoned　all　persons　acting

under　the　new　authorities；　that　it　was　really　an　affair　of　no　small

nerve　to　look　her　in　the　face。　And　to　do　the　people　justice；　stern

republicans　as　they　had　now　become；　they　were　well　content　that　the

old　gentlewoman；　in　her　hoop　petticoat　and　faded　embroidery；　should

still　haunt　the　palace　of　ruined　pride　and　overthrown　power；　the

symbol　of　a　departed　system；　embodying　a　history　in　her　person。　So

Esther　Dudley　dwelt　year　after　year　in　the　Province　House；　still

reverencing　all　that　others　had　flung　aside；　still　faithful　to　her

King；　who；　so　long　as　the　venerable　dame　yet　held　her　post；　might　be

said　to　retain　one　true　subject　in　New　England；　and　one　spot　of　the

empire　that　had　been　wrested　from　him。

　　　And　did　she　dwell　there　in　utter　loneliness？　Rumor　said；　not　so。

Whenever　her　chill　and　withered　heart　desired　warmth；　she　was　wont

to　summon　a　black　slave　of　Governor　Shirley's　from　the　blurred　mirror；

and　send　him　in　search　of　guests　who　had　long　ago　been　familiar　in

those　deserted　chambers。　Forth　went　the　sable　messenger；　with　the

starlight　or　the　moonshine　gleaming　through　him；　and　did　his　errand　in

the　burial　ground；　knocking　at　the　iron　doors　of　tombs；　or　upon　the

marble　slabs　that　covered　them；　and　whispering　to　those　within：　〃My

mistress；　old　Esther　Dudley；　bids　you　to　the　Province　House　at

midnight。〃　And　punctually　as　the　clock　of　the　Old　South　told　twelve

came　the　shadows　of　the　Olivers；　the　Hutchinsons；　the　Dudleys；　all　the

grand