Donde leemos una deliciosa descripción de lady y
lord Dedlock. En vocabulario: gout, y en sinónimos: howbeit? Del clásico de
Charles Dickens, Bleak House.
My Lady Dedlock
has returned to her house in town for a few days previous to her departure for
Paris, where her ladyship intends to stay some weeks, after which her movements
are uncertain. The fashionable intelligence says so for the comfort of the Parisians,
and it knows all fashionable things. To know things otherwise were to be
unfashionable. My Lady Dedlock has been down at what she calls, in familiar
conversation, her "place" in Lincolnshire…
Sir Leicester
Dedlock is only a baronet, but there is no mightier baronet than he. His family
is as old as the hills, and infinitely more respectable. He has a general
opinion that the world might get on without hills but would be done up without
Dedlocks. He would on the whole admit nature to be a good idea (a little low,
perhaps, when not enclosed with a park-fence), but an idea dependent for its
execution on your great county families. He is a gentleman of strict
conscience, disdainful of all littleness and meanness and ready on the shortest
notice to die any death you may please to mention rather than give occasion for
the least impeachment of his integrity. He
is an honourable, obstinate, truthful, high-spirited, intensely prejudiced,
perfectly unreasonable man.
Sir Leicester is
twenty years, full measure, older than my Lady. He will never see sixty-five
again, nor perhaps sixty-six, nor yet sixty-seven. He has a twist of the gout now and then and walks a little
stiffly. He is of a worthy presence, with his light-grey hair and whiskers, his
fine shirt-frill, his pure-white waistcoat, and his blue coat with bright
buttons always buttoned. He is ceremonious, stately, most polite on every
occasion to my Lady, and holds her personal attractions in the highest estimation.
His gallantry to my Lady, which has never changed since he courted her, is the
one little touch of romantic fancy in him.
Indeed, he
married her for love. A whisper still goes about that she had not even family; nevertheless, Sir
Leicester had so much family that perhaps he had enough and could dispense with
any more. But she had beauty, pride, ambition, insolent resolve, and sense
enough to portion out a legion of fine ladies. Wealth and station, added to
these, soon floated her upward, and for years now my Lady Dedlock has been at
the centre of the fashionable intelligence and at the top of the fashionable
tree.
My Lady Dedlock,
having conquered HER world, fell not into the melting, but rather into the
freezing, mood. An exhausted composure, a worn-out placidity, an equanimity of
fatigue not to be ruffled by interest or satisfaction, are the trophies of her
victory. She is perfectly well-bred. If she could be translated to heaven
to-morrow, she might be expected to ascend without any rapture.
She has beauty
still, and if it be not in its heyday, it is not yet in its autumn. She has a
fine face—originally of a character that would be rather called very pretty
than handsome, but improved into classicality by the acquired expression of her
fashionable state. Her figure is elegant and has the effect of being tall. Not
that she is so, but that "the most is made," as the Honourable Bob
Stables has frequently asserted upon oath, "of all her points." The
same authority observes that she is perfectly got up and remarks in commendation
of her hair especially that she is the best-groomed woman in the whole stud…
And at her house
in town, upon this muddy, murky afternoon, presents himself an old-fashioned
old gentleman, attorney-at-law and also solicitor of the High Court of Chancery, who has the honour
of acting as legal adviser of the Dedlocks…
The old
gentleman is unaccustomed to look at, but is reputed to have made good money out of aristocratic
marriage settlements and aristocratic wills, and to be very rich. He is
surrounded by a mysterious halo of family confidences, of which he is known to
be the silent depository. There are noble mausoleums rooted for centuries in
retired glades of parks among the growing timber and the fern, which perhaps
hold fewer noble secrets than walk abroad among men, shut up in the breast of
Mr. Tulkinghorn. He is of what is called the old school… Mute, close,
irresponsive to any glancing light, his dress is like himself. He never
converses when not professionally consulted…
"My Lady's
cause has been again before the Chancellor, has it, Mr. Tulkinghorn?" says
Sir Leicester, giving him his hand.
"Yes. It
has been on again to-day," Mr. Tulkinghorn replies, making one of his
quiet bows to my Lady, who is on a sofa near the fire, shading her face with a
hand-screen.
"It would
be useless to ask," says my Lady with the dreariness of the place in
Lincolnshire still upon her, "whether anything has been done."
"Nothing
that YOU would call anything has been done to-day," replies Mr.
Tulkinghorn.
"Nor ever
will be," says my Lady… (Paragraphs from Bleak
House, chapter 2, by Charles Dickens)
Vocabulario
Bleak: gloomy
and somber. For example:
Life there has
always been bleak and difficult. (inhóspita,
sombría, nada prometedora)
Gout: A
hereditary disorder caused by painful deposits of crystals in the joints,
especially of the big toe, knee, or elbow. It is caused by abnormally high
levels of uric acid in the blood. (gota)
Reemplazadas
Howbeit Eke Rusty Thrift
Artículo relacionado
Recursos
Bleak House, to
listen from Librivox.
