Возвращение на родину

I. A Face on Which Time Makes but Little Impression

           Intensitywasmoreusuallyreachedbywayofthesolemnthanbywayofthebrilliant,andsuchasortofintensitywasoftenarrivedatduringwinterdarkness,tempests,andmists.ThenEgdonwasarousedtoreciprocity;forthestormwasitslover,andthewinditsfriend.Thenitbecamethehomeofstrangephantoms;anditwasfoundtobethehithertounrecognizedoriginalofthosewildregionsofobscuritywhicharevaguelyfelttobecompassingusaboutinmidnightdreamsofflightanddisaster,andareneverthoughtofafterthedreamtillrevivedbysceneslikethis.

           Itwasatpresentaplaceperfectlyaccordantwithman’snature—neitherghastly,hateful,norugly;neithercommonplace,unmeaning,nortame;but,likeman,slightedandenduring;andwithalsingularlycolossalandmysteriousinitsswarthymonotony.Aswithsomepersonswhohavelonglivedapart,solitudeseemedtolookoutofitscountenance.Ithadalonelyface,suggestingtragicalpossibilities.

           Thisobscure,obsolete,supersededcountryfiguresinDomesday.Itsconditionisrecordedthereinasthatofheathy,furzy,briarywilderness—“Bruaria.”Thenfollowsthelengthandbreadthinleagues;and,thoughsomeuncertaintyexistsastotheexactextentofthisancientlinealmeasure,itappearsfromthefiguresthattheareaofEgdondowntothepresentdayhasbutlittlediminished.“TurbariaBruaria”—therightofcuttingheath-turf—occursinchartersrelatingtothedistrict.“Overgrownwithhethandmosse,”saysLelandofthesamedarksweepofcountry.

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