×

Utilizziamo i cookies per contribuire a migliorare LingQ. Visitando il sito, acconsenti alla nostra politica dei cookie.


image

The Figure in the Carpet by Henry James, CHAPTER I

CHAPTER I

I had done a few things and earned a few pence - I had perhaps even had time to begin to think I was finer than was perceived by the patronising; but when I take the little measure of my course (a fidgety habit, for it's none of the longest yet) I count my real start from the evening George Corvick, breathless and worried, came in to ask me a service. He had done more things than I, and earned more pence, though there were chances for cleverness I thought he sometimes missed. I could only however that evening declare to him that he never missed one for kindness. There was almost rapture in hearing it proposed to me to prepare for The Middle , the organ of our lucubrations, so called from the position in the week of its day of appearance, an article for which he had made himself responsible and of which, tied up with a stout string, he laid on my table the subject. I pounced upon my opportunity - that is on the first volume of it - and paid scant attention to my friend's explanation of his appeal. What explanation could be more to the point than my obvious fitness for the task? I had written on Hugh Vereker, but never a word in The Middle , where my dealings were mainly with the ladies and the minor poets. This was his new novel, an advance copy, and whatever much or little it should do for his reputation I was clear on the spot as to what it should do for mine. Moreover if I always read him as soon as I could get hold of him I had a particular reason for wishing to read him now: I had accepted an invitation to Bridges for the following Sunday, and it had been mentioned in Lady Jane's note that Mr. Vereker was to be there. I was young enough for a flutter at meeting a man of his renown, and innocent enough to believe the occasion would demand the display of an acquaintance with his “last.”

Corvick, who had promised a review of it, had not even had time to read it; he had gone to pieces in consequence of news requiring - as on precipitate reflexion he judged - that he should catch the night-mail to Paris. He had had a telegram from Gwendolen Erme in answer to his letter offering to fly to her aid. I knew already about Gwendolen Erme; I had never seen her, but I had my ideas, which were mainly to the effect that Corvick would marry her if her mother would only die. That lady seemed now in a fair way to oblige him; after some dreadful mistake about a climate or a “cure” she had suddenly collapsed on the return from abroad. Her daughter, unsupported and alarmed, desiring to make a rush for home but hesitating at the risk, had accepted our friend's assistance, and it was my secret belief that at sight of him Mrs. Erme would pull round. His own belief was scarcely to be called secret; it discernibly at any rate differed from mine. He had showed me Gwendolen's photograph with the remark that she wasn't pretty but was awfully interesting; she had published at the age of nineteen a novel in three volumes, “Deep Down,” about which, in The Middle , he had been really splendid. He appreciated my present eagerness and undertook that the periodical in question should do no less; then at the last, with his hand on the door, he said to me: “Of course you'll be all right, you know.” Seeing I was a trifle vague he added: “I mean you won't be silly.” “Silly - about Vereker! Why what do I ever find him but awfully clever?”

“Well, what's that but silly? What on earth does ‘awfully clever' mean? For God's sake try to get at him. Don't let him suffer by our arrangement. Speak of him, you know, if you can, as I should have spoken of him.”

I wondered an instant. “You mean as far and away the biggest of the lot - that sort of thing?”

Corvick almost groaned. “Oh you know, I don't put them back to back that way; it's the infancy of art! But he gives me a pleasure so rare; the sense of” - he mused a little - “something or other.”

I wondered again. “The sense, pray, of want?”

“My dear man, that's just what I want you to say!” Even before he had banged the door I had begun, book in hand, to prepare myself to say it. I sat up with Vereker half the night; Corvick couldn't have done more than that. He was awfully clever - I stuck to that, but he wasn't a bit the biggest of the lot. I didn't allude to the lot, however; I flattered myself that I emerged on this occasion from the infancy of art. “It's all right,” they declared vividly at the office; and when the number appeared I felt there was a basis on which I could meet the great man. It gave me confidence for a day or two - then that confidence dropped. I had fancied him reading it with relish, but if Corvick wasn't satisfied how could Vereker himself be? I reflected indeed that the heat of the admirer was sometimes grosser even than the appetite of the scribe. Corvick at all events wrote me from Paris a little ill-humouredly. Mrs. Erme was pulling round, and I hadn't at all said what Vereker gave him the sense of.

CHAPTER I الفصل الأول CAPITOLO I

I had done a few things and earned a few pence - I had perhaps even had time to begin to think I was finer than was perceived by the patronising; but when I take the little measure of my course (a fidgety habit, for it's none of the longest yet) I count my real start from the evening George Corvick, breathless and worried, came in to ask me a service. لقد قمت ببعض الأشياء وحصلت على القليل من بنسات - ربما كان لدي وقت حتى أبدأ في التفكير في أنني أفضل مما كان يتصور من قبل المستفيد ؛ لكن عندما أقوم بالقياس الصغير لمسارتي (وهي عادة متملقة ، فهي ليست من الأطول حتى الآن) أحسب بداياتي الحقيقية من المساء ، جاء جورج كورفيك ، لاهثًا وقلقًا ، ليطلب مني خدمة. 私はいくつかのことをして、いくつかのペンスを稼いでいました-おそらく、私が愛顧によって認められたよりも優れていたと思うようになる時間さえあったかもしれません。しかし、コースを少し測るとき(それはまだ長いものではないので、落ち着きのない習慣です)、夕方からの本当のスタートを数えます。 Я зробив кілька речей і заробив кілька пенсів — я, можливо, навіть встиг подумати, що я кращий, ніж це вважало покровительство; але коли я зважаю на свій курс (нервна звичка, бо він ще не найдовший), я вважаю свій справжній початок з того вечора, коли Джордж Корвік, задиханий і стурбований, прийшов попросити мене про послугу. He had done more things than I, and earned more pence, though there were chances for cleverness I thought he sometimes missed. لقد فعل أشياء أكثر مني ، وكسب المزيد من البنسات ، على الرغم من وجود فرص للذكاء اعتقدت أنه يفوتها في بعض الأحيان. Він зробив більше, ніж я, і заробив більше пенсів, хоча були шанси на кмітливість, я думав, він іноді пропускав. I could only however that evening declare to him that he never missed one for kindness. لكنني لم أستطع إلا في ذلك المساء أن أصرح له أنه لم يفوت أحدًا أبدًا من أجل اللطف. Але я міг лише того вечора заявити йому, що він ніколи не пропускав жодного через доброту. There was almost rapture in hearing it proposed to me to prepare for The Middle , the organ of our lucubrations, so called from the position in the week of its day of appearance, an article for which he had made himself responsible and of which, tied up with a stout string, he laid on my table the subject. كان هناك نشوة تقريبًا في سماعها واقترحت عليّ التحضير لـ The Middle ، وهو عضو من أعضاء lucubrations لدينا ، سمي على هذا النحو من الموقف في أسبوع يوم ظهوره ، وهو مقال جعل نفسه مسؤولاً عنه والذي تم تقييده مع خيط قوي ، وضع الموضوع على طاولتي. Було майже захоплено почути, як він пропонував мені підготуватися до The Middle, органу наших лукубрацій, який так називали з позиції на тижні його дня появи, статті, за яку він поклав себе відповідальним і до якої пов’язаний піднявшись міцною струною, він поклав на мій стіл предмет. I pounced upon my opportunity - that is on the first volume of it - and paid scant attention to my friend's explanation of his appeal. انتهزت فرصتي - تلك في المجلد الأول منها - ولم أعير سوى القليل من الاهتمام لتفسير صديقي لجاذبيته. What explanation could be more to the point than my obvious fitness for the task? ما هو التفسير الذي يمكن أن يكون أكثر دقة من ملاءمتي الواضحة للمهمة؟ I had written on Hugh Vereker, but never a word in  The Middle , where my dealings were mainly with the ladies and the minor poets. كنت قد كتبت عن هيو فيريكير ، لكنني لم أكتب أي كلمة في The Middle ، حيث كانت تعاملي بشكل أساسي مع السيدات والشعراء الصغار. This was his new novel, an advance copy, and whatever much or little it should do for his reputation I was clear on the spot as to what it should do for mine. كانت هذه روايته الجديدة ، نسخة مسبقة ، وأيًا كان الكثير أو القليل الذي يجب أن تفعله لسمعته ، كنت واضحًا على الفور فيما يجب أن تفعله لي. Moreover if I always read him as soon as I could get hold of him I had a particular reason for wishing to read him now: I had accepted an invitation to Bridges for the following Sunday, and it had been mentioned in Lady Jane's note that Mr. Vereker was to be there. علاوة على ذلك ، إذا كنت أقرأه دائمًا بمجرد التمسك به ، فلدي سبب معين لأرغب في قراءته الآن: لقد قبلت دعوة إلى Bridges ليوم الأحد التالي ، وقد ورد ذكره في مذكرة السيدة جين أن السيد. كان فيريكر أن يكون هناك. I was young enough for a flutter at meeting a man of his renown, and innocent enough to believe the occasion would demand the display of an acquaintance with his “last.”

Corvick, who had promised a review of it, had not even had time to read it; he had gone to pieces in consequence of news requiring - as on precipitate reflexion he judged - that he should catch the night-mail to Paris. He had had a telegram from Gwendolen Erme in answer to his letter offering to fly to her aid. I knew already about Gwendolen Erme; I had never seen her, but I had my ideas, which were mainly to the effect that Corvick would marry her if her mother would only die. That lady seemed now in a fair way to oblige him; after some dreadful mistake about a climate or a “cure” she had suddenly collapsed on the return from abroad. Her daughter, unsupported and alarmed, desiring to make a rush for home but hesitating at the risk, had accepted our friend's assistance, and it was my secret belief that at sight of him Mrs. Erme would pull round. His own belief was scarcely to be called secret; it discernibly at any rate differed from mine. He had showed me Gwendolen's photograph with the remark that she wasn't pretty but was awfully interesting; she had published at the age of nineteen a novel in three volumes, “Deep Down,” about which, in  The Middle , he had been really splendid. He appreciated my present eagerness and undertook that the periodical in question should do no less; then at the last, with his hand on the door, he said to me: “Of course you'll be all right, you know.”  Seeing I was a trifle vague he added: “I mean you won't be silly.” “Silly - about Vereker! Why what do I ever find him but awfully clever?”

“Well, what's that but silly? What on earth does ‘awfully clever' mean? For God's sake try to get  at him. Don't let him suffer by our arrangement. Speak of him, you know, if you can, as  I should have spoken of him.”

I wondered an instant. “You mean as far and away the biggest of the lot - that sort of thing?”

Corvick almost groaned. “Oh you know, I don't put them back to back that way; it's the infancy of art! But he gives me a pleasure so rare; the sense of” - he mused a little - “something or other.”

I wondered again. “The sense, pray, of want?”

“My dear man, that's just what I want  you to say!” Even before he had banged the door I had begun, book in hand, to prepare myself to say it. I sat up with Vereker half the night; Corvick couldn't have done more than that. He was awfully clever - I stuck to that, but he wasn't a bit the biggest of the lot. I didn't allude to the lot, however; I flattered myself that I emerged on this occasion from the infancy of art. ومع ذلك ، لم ألمح إلى الكثير ؛ لقد شعرت بالإطراء لأنني خرجت في هذه المناسبة من طفولة الفن. “It's all right,” they declared vividly at the office; and when the number appeared I felt there was a basis on which I could meet the great man. It gave me confidence for a day or two - then that confidence dropped. I had fancied him reading it with relish, but if Corvick wasn't satisfied how could Vereker himself be? I reflected indeed that the heat of the admirer was sometimes grosser even than the appetite of the scribe. Corvick at all events wrote me from Paris a little ill-humouredly. Mrs. Erme was pulling round, and I hadn't at all said what Vereker gave him the sense of.