Roman fever

Roman Feverby Edith Wharton

(1862-1937)

"Roman Fever" is among Edith Wharton's last writings and caps off her noteworthy career. "Roman Fever" was first published in Liberty magazine in 1934, and it was included in Wharton's final collection of short stories, The World Over, in 1936. Several reviewers of this final collection from newspapers and magazines throughout the nation called special attention to "Roman Fever." Since then, however, the story has received little critical attention. The few critics who have written about the story describe it as artistic, complex, and reflective of

Wharton's moral landscape.

"Roman Fever," however, is frequently included in anthologies, both of Wharton's work and of American literature, and this may be a better indicator of its value as worthwhile literature than its critical history is. The story, at first, seems to be little more than a tale about the nostalgic remembrances of two middle-aged women revisiting Rome. Yet the tone of both the outer and inner dialogue shows a deep-felt animosity between the two women. The more outgoing Mrs. Slade is envious of Mrs. Ansley's vivacious daughter and jealous of her past love for Mrs. Slade's husband. The final sentence of the story reveals that Mrs. Slade has a valid reason for her feelings of competition with Mrs. Ansley though she only learns of it after years of ill-feeling. Some readers may find this final sentence to be a trick ending, on par with those of Saki or O. Henry. But a close reading of "Roman Fever" shows that Wharton carefully crafted her story to lead up to that exact moment of truth. Wharton's fine construction indeed makes "Roman Fever" one of her greater works of short fiction. 

 

Bản dịch chỉ mang tính chất tham khảo (Sưu tầm)

From the table at which they had been lunching two American ladies of ripe but well-cared-for middle age moved across the lofty terrace of the Roman restaurant and, leaning on its parapet, looked first at each other, and then down on the outspread glories of the Palatine and the Forum, with the same expression of vague but benevolent approval.

Từ cái bàn mà mà 2 quý bà ở độ tuổi cuối trung niên thuộc tầng lớp giàu có, họ di chuyển băng ngang qua cái sân thượng cao chót vót của nhà hàng Roman và tựa người vào cái lan can, họ nhìn nhau lần đầu và sau đó nhìn xuống toàn bộ những phế tích Palatine và Forum với cùng một ấn tượng mơ hồ nhưng cũng tán thưởng nhiều về nhau.

As they leaned there a girlish voice echoed up gaily from the stairs leading to the court below. "Well, come along, then," it cried, not to them but to an invisible companion, "and let's leave the young things to their knitting," and a voice as fresh laughed back: "Oh, look here, Babs, not actually knitting—" "Well, I mean figuratively," rejoined the first. "After all, we haven't left our poor parents much else to do.. . ." At that point the turn of the stairs engulfed the dialogue.

Khi họ đứng tựa người vào lan can thì có một giọng nói vui vẻ của một cô gái vọng từ những bậc thang bên dưới dẫn đến sân thượng. “ Nào, vậy thì đi thôi,” cô gái nói to, không phải là nói với họ mà nói với một người bạn đi cùng đang đứng khuất góc đâu đó, “ và để cho 2 quý cô trẻ trung của chúng ta ở lại mà đan lát,” và một giọng nói cũng trẻ trung không kém cười đáp lại: “ồ, nhìn đây Babs, thực sự không phải là đan đâu”. “à, ý tôi là nghĩa bóng kìa,” cô gái đầu tiên đáp lại. “ Dù sao đi nữa thì chúng ta đâu có để cho ba mẹ tội nghiệp của chúng ta nhiều việc gì khác để mà làm đâu…” Tới đây thì khúc quẹo của cầu thang đã nuốt mất mẩu đối thoại của 2 cô gái.

The two ladies looked at each other again, this time with a tinge of smiling embarrassment, and the smaller and paler one shook her head and colored slightly.Hai quý bà nhìn nhau một lần nữa, lần này thì nhìn nhau bằng những cái cười trừ và người có thân hình nhỏ nhắn và trắng trẻo hơn lắc đầu và hơi đỏ mặt.

"Barbara!" she murmured, sending an unheard rebuke after the mocking voice in the stairway.

“Barbara!” bà ta thì thào, như một lời quở trách, mắng với câu nói chế giễu ở cầu thang.

The other lady, who was fuller, and higher in color, with a small determined nose supported by vigorous black eyebrows, gave a good-humored laugh. "That's what our daughters think of us."

Quý bà còn lại, người có thân hình đẫy đà và da sậm hơn, với cái mũi nhỏ của loại người quyết đoán và với đôi lông mày đen rộng càng làm tăng thêm tính quyết đoán, bật cười vui vẻ. “Đó là những gì mà mấy đứa con gái của chúng ta nghĩ về tụi mình đó.”

Her companion replied by a deprecating gesture. "Not of us individually. We must remember that. It's just the collective modern idea of Mothers. And you see—" Half guiltily she drew from her handsomely mounted black handbag a twist of crimson silk run through by two fine knitting needles. "One never knows," she murmured. "The new system has certainly given us a good deal of time to kill; and sometimes I get tired just looking—even at this." Her gesture was now addressed to the stupendous scene at their feet.

Người bạn đồng hành đáp trả lại bằng một thái độ chán nản. “ Không phải chỉ riêng chúng ta đâu. Chúng ta phải nhớ rằng đó là ý kiến chung thời nay của tụi trẻ về những người mẹ. Và chị thấy đó – “ Có phần mặc cảm bà ta lôi từ cái ví xách màu đen được trang trí trông rất bắt mắt một cuộn tơ màu đỏ thẫm được đâm xuyên qua bằng 2 cây que đan xịn. “ Người ta chẳng bao giờ biết được,” bà ta thì thào. “ Cái tổ chức xã hội mới hiển nhiên là đã cho chúng ta quá nhiều thời gian nhàn rỗi; và thỉnh thoảng tôi phát mệt thậm chí là ngắm cảnh đẹp như thế này.” Cử chỉ của bà ta giờ đây hướng tới cảnh đẹp bao la hùng vĩ dưới chân họ.

The dark lady laughed again, and they both relapsed upon the view, contemplating it in silence, with a sort of diffused serenity which might have been borrowed from the spring effulgence of the Roman skies. The luncheon hour was long past, and the two had their end of the vast terrace to themselves. At its opposite extremity a few groups, detained by a lingering look at the outspread city, were gathering up guidebooks and fumbling for tips. The last of them scattered, and the two ladies were alone on the air-washed height.

Quý bà có làn da sẫm bật cười một lần nữa, và cả 2 quay trở lại tiếp tục ngắm cảnh, và suy tư về nó trong im lặng, một sự tĩnh mịnh lan toả ra mà có lẽ là đã được vay mượn từ sự rạng rỡ mùa xuân của bầu trời La Mã. Giờ ăn trưa đã qua lâu rồi, và tại một đầu của nhà hàng chỉ còn lại có mình 2 quý bà. Tại đầu bên kia có một vài nhóm, nấn ná ở lại xem cảnh thành phố trải dài dưới chân họ, cũng đang thu dọn những cuốn sách hướng dẫn và lục lọi tiền thưởng cho người phục vụ. Nhóm cuối cùng cũng tản đi, và chỉ còn lại 2 quý bà trên cái sân thượng cao lộng gió.

"Well, I don't see why we shouldn't just stay here," said Mrs. Slade, the lady of the high color and energetic brows. Two derelict basket chairs stood near, and she pushed them into the angle of the parapet, and settled herself in one, her gaze upon the Palatine. "After all, it's still the most beautiful view in the world."

“À, tôi chẳng thấy lý do nào phải rời đây cả,” bà Slade nói, quý bà có làn da sậm và đôi lông mày rậm. Có 2 cái ghế đan mây bỏ trống nằm gần đó, và ba ta đẩy chúng vào góc của lan can, rồi thả người vào trong ghế, mắt bà ta nhìn đăm đăm vào phế tích Palatine . “ Dủ gì đi nữa thì đây vẫn là cảnh đẹp nhất trên thế giới.”

"It always will be, to me," assented her friend Mrs. Ansley, with so slight a stress on the "me" that Mrs. Slade, though she noticed it, wondered if it were not merely accidental, like the random underlinings of old-fashioned letter writers.

“Đối với tôi lúc nào nó chẳng đẹp như thế,” bạn của bà ta là bà Ansley đồng ý, với chữ “ tôi” nói rất nhỏ mà bà Slade mặc dù là chú ý đến điều đó nhưng cũng tự hỏi rằng liệu đó có phải là sự tình cờ hay không, cũng giống như là những sự gạch dưới ngẫu nhiên của những người viết thư thời xưa.

"Grace Ansley was always old-fashioned," she thought; and added aloud, with a retrospective smile: "It's a view we've both been familiar with for a good many years. When we first met here we were younger than our girls are now. You remember!"

“ Grace Ansley trước đây lúc nào cũng là người cổ hủ,” bà ta nghĩ thế; và nói lớn ra bằng một nụ cười mang tính hồi tưởng: “ Hai chúng ta đã ở vào một cái cảnh cũng tương tự như thế này cách đây nhiều năm rồi. Khi mà lần đầu tiên chúng ta gặp nhau tại đây, lúc đó chúng ta trẻ hơn mấy đứa con gái chúng ta bây giờ. Chị nhớ chứ!”

"Oh, yes, I remember," murmured Mrs. Ansley, with the same undefinable stress—"There's that head-waiter wondering," she interpolated. She was evidently far less sure than her companion of herself and of her rights in the world.

            “Ồ, có, tôi nhớ chứ,” bà Ansley thì thào, cũng nói chữ “ tôi” rất nhỏ như câu trước - “người trưởng phục vụ đang thắc mắc điều gì kìa,” bà ta nói chen vào. Rõ ràng là bà ta không có sự tự tin nhiều như là người bạn của mình về chính bản thân và mình có quyền gì trên thế giới.

"I'll cure him of wondering," said Mrs. Slade, stretching her hand toward a bag as discreetly opulent-looking as Mrs. Ansley's. Signing to the headwaiter, she explained that she and her friend were old lovers of Rome, and would like to spend the end of the afternoon looking down on the view—that is, if it did not disturb the service! The headwaiter, bowing over her gratuity, assured her that the ladies were most welcome, and would be still more so if they would condescend to remain for dinner. A full moon night, they would remember....

            “ Tôi sẽ chữa cho anh ta khỏi thắc mắc,” bà Slade nói, và với tay lấy cái ví xách hiển nhiên là cũng đẹp không kém cái của bà Ansley. Bà ta ra dấu cho người trưởng phục vụ và giải thích rằng bà ta và người bạn là những người yêu cữ của thành phố La Mã, và sẽ ở lại ngắm cảnh cho đến hết buổi chiều - liệu điều đó có làm phiền việc phục vụ hay không! Người trưởng phục vụ cúi người xuống lấy tiền thưởng và trấn an rằng 2 quý bà đây luôn được hoan nghênh, và sẽ còn được hoan nghênh hơn nữa nếu hạ cố lưu lại cho tới bữa tối. Một đêm trăng tròn, họ sẽ nhớ…

Mrs. Slade's black brows drew together, as though references to the moon were out of place and even unwelcome. But she smiled away her frown as the headwaiter retreated. "Well, why not! We might do worse. There's no knowing, I suppose, when the girls will be back. Do you even know back from where? I don't!"

Bà Slade nhíu đôi lông mày lại, như thề không muốn nói tới trăng và thâm chí là không chào mời nó. Nhưng bà ta cười để che mất sự nhíu mày đó khi người trưởng phục vụ đi. “Ừ tại sao không ở lại đây kia chứ! nhiều khi đi nơi khác còn tệ hơn ấy chứ. Tôi nghĩ là chẳng biết được khi nào mấy đứa con gái mới về. Thậm chí là chị có biết chúng nó đi đâu về không nào? Tôi chịu!”

Mrs. Ansley again colored slightly. "I think those young Italian aviators we met at the Embassy invited them to fly to Tarquinia for tea. I suppose they'll want to wait and fly back by moonlight."

Bà Ansley lại hơi đỏ mặt. “ tôi nghĩ là mấy gã phi công Ý trẻ trung mà chúng ta đã gặp tại toà đại sứ đã mời chúng nó bay tới Tarquinia để uống trà rồi. Tôi cho là chúng nó muốn đợi và bay về lúc trăng sáng.”

"Moonlight—moonlight! What a part it still plays. Do you suppose they're as sentimental as we were?"

            “Ánh trăng – ánh trăng ư! Nó vẫn là một phần lớn của sự lãng mạn đấy. Chị có nghĩ là chúng nó có uỷ mị như chúng ta hồi xưa không?

"I've come to the conclusion that I don't in the least know what they are," said Mrs. Ansley. "And perhaps we didn't know much more about each other."

            “ Tôi vừa đi đến một kết luận là tôi chẳng biết tý gì về chúng nó,” bà Ansley nói “ Và có lẽ chùng ta đã chẳng biết nhiều về nhau.”

"No, perhaps we didn't."

“Ừ, có lẽ thế.”

Her friend gave her a shy glance. "I never should have supposed you were sentimental, Alida."

            Bà Ansley lén liếc nhìn bạn mình.” Tôi chưa bao giờ cho rằng chị là người uỷ mị, chị Alida ạ.”

"Well, perhaps I wasn't." Mrs. Slade drew her lids together in retrospect; and for a few moments the two ladies, who had been intimate since childhood, reflected how little they knew each other. Each one, of course, had a label ready to attach to the other's name; Mrs. Delphin Slade, for instance, would have told herself, or anyone who asked her, that Mrs. Horace Ansley, twenty-five years ago, had been exquisitely lovely—no, you wouldn't believe it, would you! though, of course, still charming, distinguished.... Well, as a girl she had been exquisite; far more beautiful than her daughter, Barbara, though certainly Babs, according to the new standards at any rate, was more effective—had more edge, as they say. Funny where she got it, with those two nullities as parents. Yes; Horace Ansley was—well, just the duplicate of his wife. Museum specimens of old New York. Good-looking, irreproachable, exemplary. Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley had lived opposite each other—actually as well as figuratively—for years. When the drawing-room curtains in No. 20 East Seventy-third Street were renewed, No. 23, across the way, was always aware of it. And of all the movings, buyings, travels, anniversaries, illnesses—the tame chronicle of an estimable pair. Little of it escaped Mrs. Slade. But she had grown bored with it by the time her husband made his big coup in Wall Street, and when they bought in upper Park Avenue had already begun to think: "I'd rather live opposite a speakeasy for a change; at least one might see it raided." The idea of seeing Grace raided was so amusing that (before the move) she launched it at a woman's lunch. It made a hit, and went the rounds—she sometimes wondered if it had crossed the street, and reached Mrs. Ansley. She hoped not, but didn't much mind. Those were the days when respectability was at a discount, and it did the irreproachable no harm to laugh at them a little.

“Ừ, có lẽ tôi không phải loại người đó.” Bà Slade nheo mí mắt lại trong hồi tưởng; và trong giây phút hai quý bà là những người bạn thân từ thủa nhỏ suy nghĩ xem họ biết về nhau ít như thế nào. Rõ ràng là mỗi người đã có sẵn định kiến về nhau; ví dụ như bà Delphin Slade sẽ tự nói với chính mình hoặc với bất kỳ ai mà hỏi bà ta rằng bà Horace Ansley cách đây 25 năm thì cực kỳ xinh đẹp -  không, bạn sẽ không tin đâu, phải không nào! mặc dù rõ ràng bà ấy vẫn còn duyên dáng, có dàng vẻ… Thực vậy, khi còn là con gái bà ấy cực kỳ xinh đẹp; đẹp hơn nhiều so với con gái Barbara của bà ấy, mặc dù hiển nhiên con Babs, dẫu sao là mẫu người theo tiêu chuẩn mới, là người có năng lực để làm việc – có nhiều điểm thuận lợi, như người ta nói thế. Thật buồn cười là con đó nó lấy sự lanh lợi từ đâu ra với 2 con người tầm thường như cha mẹ của nó cơ chứ. Đúng thế; Horace Ansley - quả thực là một con người tầm thường, chỉ là bản sao của vợ hắn mà thôi. Những mẫu người New York lỗi thời ấy mà. Mẫu người ưa nhìn, mẫu mực không chê trách vào đâu được. Bà Slade và bà Ansley sống đối diện nhau - cả về nghĩa đen lẫn nghĩa bóng – trong nhiều năm. Khi mà những cái màn cửa ờ nhà số 20 đường số 73 bên đông thay mới, thì nhà số 23, bên kia đường , cũng biết được. Và tất cả mọi chuyển động, mua sắm, du lịch, lễ lạy, ốm đau – được tuân theo thứ tự thời gian đều đặn của cặp vợ chồng đáng kính đó. Hầu như chẳng có chuyện gì của nhà đấy mà qua mắt được bà Slade. Nhưng bà ta đã bắt đầu chán ngấy cái trình tự đều đặn đó cho tới chừng chồng bà ta trở nên giàu có ở phố Wall, và khi mà họ chuyển tới khu thượng lưu ở đại lộ Park ở trung tâm thành phố, ba ta đã bắt đầu nghĩ rằng : “ Tôi thà là sống đối diện với một quán bán rượu lậu để cho đỡ nhàm chán; ít nhất ra còn có thể xem được người ta bố ráp cái quán ấy.” Cái ý nghĩ thấy nhà con Grace bị bố ráp quá hào hứng đến nỗi ( trước khi chuyển đi ) bà ta bắt đầu nói điều đó tại một bữa ăn trưa của một người phụ nữ. Ý tưởng này giống như một giai điệu tự nhiên được nhiều người thích và lan đi khắp nơi - thỉnh thoảng bà ta nghĩ rằng liệu cái ý nghĩ đó nó có băng qua đường tới tai bà Ansley không nhỉ. Bà ta hy vọng là không, nhưng cũng chả mấy quan tâm. Thủa đó khi mà người đáng kính chẳng còn là bao, và cũng chẳng chê trách , chẳng hại tý nào khi cười nhạo họ một chút.

A few years later, and not many months apart, both ladies lost their husbands. There was an appropriate exchange of wreaths and condolences, and a brief renewal of intimacy in the half shadow of their mourning; and now, after another interval, they had run across each other in Rome, at the same hotel, each of them the modest appendage of a salient daughter. The similarity of their lot had again drawn them together, lending itself to mild jokes, and the mutual confession that, if in old days it must have been tiring to "keep up" with daughters, it was now, at times, a little dull not to.

Một vài năm sau, và cách nhau có vài tháng, chồng của 2 người đều qua đời. Đã có một sự qua lại tương xứng với những vòng hoa và lời chia buồn, và đã có một sự làm mới lại sự thân mật nhanh chóng trong lúc có phần u ám vì tang chế của họ; và giờ đây, sau một giai đoạn khác của mối quan hệ, họ đã tình cờ gặp nhau ở Rome, ở cùng một khách sạn, cả hai đã trở thành những vai phụ cho con gái mình. Sự giống nhau về số phận một lần nữa đã kéo họ lại với nhau, nó phù hợp với những câu nói đùa nhẹ nhàng và sự thú nhận với nhau rằng  ngày xưa việc canh giữ mấy đứa con gái chắc hẳn là làm phát mệt các bậc cha mẹ, hiện tại thì thỉnh thoảng có một chút buồn tẻ khi không được chăm lo cho chúng.

No doubt, Mrs. Slade reflected, she felt her unemployment more than poor Grace ever would. It was a big drop from being the wife of Delphin Slade to being his widow. She had always regarded herself (with a certain conjugal pride) as his equal in social gifts, as contributing her full share to the making of the exceptional couple they were: but the difference after his death was irremediable. As the wife of the famous corporation lawyer, always with an international case or two on hand, every day brought its exciting and unexpected obligation: the impromptu entertaining of eminent colleagues from abroad, the hurried dashes on legal business to London, Paris or Rome, where the entertaining was so handsomely reciprocated; the amusement of hearing in her wakes: "What, that handsome woman with the good clothes and the eyes is Mrs. Slade—the Slade's wife! Really! Generally the wives of celebrities are such frumps."

Hiển nhiên, bà Slade suy tư, bà ta cảm thấy mình còn ở không hơn con Grace tội nghiệp kia. Từ việc đang là vợ của Delphin Slade trở thành quá phụ của anh ta quả là một cú sốc lớn. Bà ta đã luôn tự coi mình cũng ngang bằng với chồng về tài năng xã hội, cũng như là sự đóng góp đầy đủ phần của mình để hai người họ trở thành một cặp vợ chồng nổi tiếng: nhưng sự khác biệt này mà từ sau cái chết của chồng bà ta là không thể sửa chữa được. Với tư cách là vợ của một luật sư trong một công ty nổi tiếng, lúc nào cũng có trong tay một hai trường hợp quốc tế, mỗi ngày công việc phải làm đem đến sự bất ngờ và hào hứng ví dụ như việc chiêu đãi không có chuẩn bị trước cho những đồng nghiệp danh tiếng từ nước ngoài đến, hay những chuyến đi vội vã về công việc kinh doanh có liên quan đến pháp lý tới London, Paris hay Rome, mà ở những nơi như thế thì họ cũng được chiêu đãi hậu hĩ; hay sự thích thú khi nghe những lời nói phía sau bà ta: “ Gì cơ, người phụ nữ to lớn trong bộ đồ xịn có đôi mắt đẹp kia là bà Slade đó ư - Vợ của ông Slade à! Thiệt vậy sao! Thường thì những bà vợ của mấy người nổi tiếng thì cù lần như thế đó.”

Yes; being the Slade's widow was a dullish business after that. In living up to such a husband all her faculties had been engaged; now she had only her daughter to live up to, for the son who seemed to have inherited his father's gifts had died suddenly in boyhood. She had fought through that agony because her husband was there, to be help ed and to help ; now, after the father's death, the thought of the boy had become unbearable. There was nothing left but to mother her daughter; and dear Jenny was such a perfect daughter that she needed no excessive mothering. "Now with Babs Ansley I don't know that I should be so quiet," Mrs. Slade sometimes half-enviously reflected; but Jenny, who was younger than her brilliant friend, was that rare accident, an extremely pretty girl who somehow made youth and prettiness seem as safe as their absence. It was all perplexing—and to Mrs. Slade a little boring. She wished that Jenny would fall in love—with the wrong man, even; that she might have to be watched, out-maneuvered, rescued. And instead, it was Jenny who watched her mother, kept her out of drafts, made sure that she had taken her tonic...

Đúng vậy, sau khi trở thành quá phụ của ông Slade là một chuyện khá buồn tẻ. Việc sống ngang tầm với một người chồng như thế đã làm cho tất cả các năng lực của bà ta được vận dụng; giờ thì chỉ còn có mỗi đứa con gái để mà sống ngang tầm với nó, vì thằng con trai đứa mà dường như đã thừa hưởng những tài năng của cha nó đã đột nhiên chết lúc còn nhỏ. Bà ta đã chiến đấu vượt qua được nỗi đau tột cùng đó bời vì chồng bà ta vẫn còn đó để được giúp đỡ và giúp lại bà ta; giờ đây sau cái chết của chồng, cái suy nghĩ về thằng bé đã trở nên không thể chịu đựng nổi. Chằng còn lại gì ngoại trừ việc làm mẹ một đứa con gái; và con Jenny yêu quý lại là một đứa con gái quá ngoan đến độ bà ta chẳng cần phái làm công việc làm mẹ là mấy. “ Giờ đây với con Babs Ansley tôi không biết là có nên quá yên lặng hay không nữa.” bà Slade thình thoảng suy nghĩ có phần ganh tỵ; nhưng con Jenny, đứa mà chẳng có thông minh bằng con bạn nó, thì hiếm mà gặp nguy hiểm gì, một đứa con gái cực kỳ xinh đẹp nhưng lại không biết làm sao mà nó lại làm cho sự trẻ trung và xinh đẹp đó trở nên an toàn như là những đứa con gái thiếu hai thứ đó. Điều đó thật mà khó hiểu – và đối với bà Slade thì có một chút chán nản. Bà ta ước rằng con Jenny yêu ai đó - thậm chí là yêu lầm người đi nữa; để bà ta có thể canh chừng nó, bộc lộ sự khôn ngoan của mình, để giải cứu nó. Và thay vào đó, chính con Jenny lại là người canh chừng mẹ nó, giữ cho bà ta khỏi gió lùa, chắc chắn rằng bà ta đã uống thuốc bổ…

Mrs. Ansley was much less articulate than her friend, and her mental portrait of Mrs. Slade was slighter, and drawn with fainter touches. "Alida Slade's awfully brilliant; but not as brilliant as she thinks," would have summed it up; though she would have added, for the enlightenment of strangers, that Mrs. Slade had been an extremely dashing girl; much more so than her daughrer, who was pretty, of course, and clever in a way, but had none of her mother's—well, "vividness," someone had once called it. Mrs. Ansley would take up current words like this, and cite them in quotation marks, as unheard-of audacities. No; Jenny was not like her mother. Sometimes Mrs. Ansley thought Alida Slade was disappointed; on the whole she had had a sad life. Full of failures and mistakes; Mrs. Ansley had always been rather sorry for her....

Bà Ansley là người không tỷ mỷ bằng bạn mình, và bức chân dung trong đầu của bà ta về bà Slade thì mong manh hơn, và được vẽ lên bằng những nét chấm phá nhợt nhạt hơn. “ Alida Slade là người hết sức thông minh; nhưng mà không thông minh như bà ta tưởng đâu.” Bà ta kết luận thế mặc dù là bà ta đã thêm vào, vì để cho những người lạ biết rõ, rằng bà Slade trước đây là một cô gái cực kỳ lanh lợi; hơn nhiều so với con gái bà ta, cái đứa mà xinh đẹp, và dĩ nhiên là cũng thông minh trong một cách nào đó, nhưng nó không có của mẹ nó “ sự sống động”, à có người trước đây đã gọi bà ta như thế. Bà Ansley lượm lặt những từ ngữ hiện như thế này, và trích dẫn chúng trong ngoặc kép, như là những người vô cùng táo gan. Không; con Jenny nó đâu có giống mẹ nó. Thỉnh thoảng bà Ansley nghĩ là Alida Slade thất vọng về nó; nhìn chung thì bà ta có một cuộc đời buồn chán. Đầy rẫy những thất bại và lỗi lầm; bà Ansley đã luôn thương hại cho bà ta…

So these two ladies visualized each other, each through the wrong end of her little telescope.

Vì thế hai quý bà hình dung về nhau, mỗi người nhìn người kia thông qua đầu ngược của kính viễn vọng.

II

For a long time they continued to sit side by side without speaking. It seemed as though, to both, there was a relief in laying down their somewhat futile activities in the presence of the vast Memento Mori which faced them. Mrs. Slade sat quite still, her eyes fixed on the golden slope of the Palace of the Caesars, and after a while Mrs. Ansley ceased to fidget with her bag, and she too sank into meditation. Like many intimate friends, the two ladies had never before had occasion to be silent together, and Mrs. Ansley was slightly embarrassed by what seemed, after so many years, a new stage in their intimacy, and one with which she did not yet know how to deal.

            Họ tiếp tục ngồi cạnh nhau mà chẳng nói tiếng nào trong một lúc lâu. Dường như đối với cả hai, có một sự nhẹ nhõm trong việc đặt xuống những hoạt động có phần vô ích của họ trong khi họ đối diện với những phế tich to lớn của thành phố La Mã. Bà Slade ngồi khá im lặng, đôi mắt nhìn đăm đăm về trườn dốc đầy nắng vàng của cung điện vua Caesars, và sau một lúc thì bà Ansley cũng thôi loay hoay với cái ví của mình, và chìm vào sự trầm tư. Giống như nhiều người bạn thân khác, hai quý bà đã chưa bao giờ có dịp ngồi yên lặng cùng nhau. Bà Ansley hơi bối rối bởi sau nhiều năm, đây dường như là một giai đoạn mới trong tình bạn thân của họ, và một giai đoạn mà bà ta chưa biết phải ứng phó với nó như thế nào.

Suddenly the air was full of that deep clangor of bells which periodically covers Rome with a roof of silver. Mrs. Slade glanced at her wristwatch. "Five o'clock already," she said, as though surprised.

Đột nhiên trong không trung đầy những tiếng chuông lanh lảng ngân vang theo định kỳ bao trùm lấy toàn bộ La Mã bằng một màu bạc. Bà Slade liếc nhìn đồ hồ đeo tay. “Đã năm giờ rồi kia à,” bà ta nói như thể là ngạc nhiên lắm.

Mrs. Ansley suggested interrogatively: "There's bridge at the Embassy at five." For a long time Mrs. Slade did not answer. She appeared to be lost in contemplation, and Mrs. Ansley thought the remark had escaped her. But after a while she said, as if speaking out of a dream: "Bridge, did you say! Not unless you want to.... But I don't think I will, you know."

Bà Ansley hỏi dò: “Có đánh bài tây ở toà đại sứ lúc năm giờ đó.” Một lúc lâu bà Slade vẫn không trả lời. Bà ta có vẻ như đang lạc vào sự suy tư, và bà Ansley nghĩ rằng bà ta không nghe thấy lời đề nghị của mình. Nhưng sau một lúc bà ta nói, như thề là nói mơ: “Bài tây ư, chị đã nói thế đúng không! Nếu chị muốn … Nhưng tôi không đi đâu, chị biết mà.”

"Oh, no," Mrs. Ansley hastened to assure her. "I don't care to at all. It's so lovely here; and so full of old memories, as you say." She settled herself in her chair, and almost furtively drew forth her knitting. Mrs. Slade took sideways note of this activity, but her own beautifully cared-for hands remained motionless on her knee.

“Ồ, không đâu,” bà Ansley vội vã chấn an bà ta. “ Tôi chẳng có quan tâm đến nó chút nào đâu. Ở đây đẹp quá; và đầy ắp những kỷ niệm xưa, như chị nói đó.” Bà ta ngồi vào trong ghế, và len lén lôi ra cái miếng đan. Bà Slade liếc nhìn qua khoé mắt cái hành động này, và thấy đôi bàn tay đẹp đẽ được chăm chút kỹ ấy vẫn còn để nguyên trên đầu gối của bà ta.

"I was just thinking," she said slowly, "what different things Rome stands for to each generation of travelers. To our grandmothers, Roman fever; to our mothers, sentimental dangers—how we used to be guarded!—to our daughters, no more dangers than the middle of Main Street. They don't know it—but how much they're missing!"

            “Tôi chỉ đang nghĩ,” bà ta chậm rãi nói, “Đối với mỗi thế hệ khách du lịch thì thành phố La Mã tượng trưng cho cái gì nhỉ. Đối với thế hệ bà của chúng ta, là bệnh sốt rét La Mã; tới thời mẹ của chúng ta, là những mối nguy hiểm do cảm xúc gây ra – chúng ta đã bị canh chừng quá trời luôn! - tới thế hệ con gái chúng ta, làm gì còn mối nguy hiểm nào nữa. Chúng nó đâu có biết điều đó – nhưng sao chúng nó đi lâu thế nhỉ!”

The long golden light was beginning to pale, and Mrs. Ansley lifted her knitting a little closer to her eyes. "Yes, how we were guarded"

Ánh nằng vàng trải dài bắt đầu nhạt dần, và bà Ansley nhấc cái miếng đan gẩn hơn về phía mắt mình. “Đúng vậy, chúng ta đã bị canh chừng quá trời luôn”

"I always used to think," Mrs. Slade continued, "that our mothers had a much more difficult job than our grandmothers. When Roman fever stalked the streets it must have been comparatively easy to gather in the girls at the danger hour; but when you and I were young, with such beauty calling us, and the spice of disobedience thrown in, and no worse risk than catching cold during the cool hour after sunset, the mothers used to be put to it to keep us in—didn't they!"

            “Tôi đã từng luôn nghĩ,” bà Sla de tiếp tục, “ rằng mẹ của chúng ta đã khó khăn để canh chừng chúng ta hơn là bà chúng ta canh chừng mẹ. Khi mà cơn sốt rét La Mã đi rảo khắp nẻo đường thì hẳn là phải tương đối dễ dàng để mà gom mấy đứa con gái lại vào giờ nguy hiểm; nhưng khi chị và tôi còn trẻ, với cái cảnh đẹp quyễn rũ như thế mời gọi, và công thêm cái hương vị của việc bất tuân, và cùng lắm là bị cảm lạnh trong những giờ trời trở lạnh sau khi mặt trời lặn mà thôi, mẹ của chúng ta đã từng cực kỳ vất vả để canh giữ chúng ta trong nhà - phải vậy không nào!”

She turned again toward Mrs. Ansley, but the latter had reached a delicate point in her knitting. "One, two, three—slip two; yes, they must have been," she assented, without looking up.

            Bà ta một lần nữa quay người vế phía bà Ansley, nhưng bà Ansley lúc này đã đan tới một chỗ phức tạp của miếng đan. “ Một, hai, ba - bỏ hai; đúng vậy, họ hẳn là đã cực kỳ vất vả,” bà ta nói trong khi đầu vẫn cúi xuống miếng đan.

Mrs. Slade's eyes rested on her with a deepened attention. "She can knit—in the face of this! How like her.... "

Đôi mắt của bà Sla de nhìn bà ta bằng với một sự chú ý ngạc nhiên.” Bà ta có thể đan ư – trong khi đối diện với cảnh đẹp như thế này sao! Bà ta là loại người gì vậy …”

Mrs. Slade leaned back, brooding, her eyes ranging from the ruins which faced her to the long green hollow of the Forum, the fading glow of the church fronts beyond it, and the outlying immensity of the Colosseum. Suddenly she thought: "It's all very well to say that our girls have done away with sentiment and moonlight. But if Babs Ansley isn't out to catch that young aviator—the one who's a Marchese—then I don't know anything. And Jenny has no chance beside her. I know that too. I wonder if that's why Grace Ansley likes the two girls to go everywhere together! My poor Jenny as a foil—!" Mrs. Slade gave a hardly audible laugh, and at the sound Mrs. Ansley dropped her knitting.

Bả Slade tựa người ra phía sau suy nghĩ, mắt bà ta quét tầm nhìn từ những phế tích trước mặt bà ta cho tới chỗ trũng màu xanh lục dài của phế tích Forum, rồi tới vầng sáng đang nhạt dần cùa phía trước ngôi nhà thờ nằm bên ngoải Forum, và ở ngoải cùng là đấu trường Col osseum rộng mênh mông. Đột nhiên bà ta nghĩ: “ Cũng vui là mấy đứa con gái chúng ta đã bỏ đi sự uỷ mị và lãng mạn. Nhưng tôi lấy làm lạ nếu con Babs nó ra ngoài mà không chụp được anh chàng phi công trẻ trung đó – cái người mà được gọi là hầu tước. Và con Jenny bên cạnh con đấy thì làm gì có cửa cơ chứ. Tôi cũng biết điều đó mà. Tôi thắc mắc là liệu đó có phải đó là lý do mà con mụ Grace Ansley này thích 2 đứa chúng nó lúc nào cũng đi chơi cùng với nhau! Con Jenny tội nghiệp của tôi chỉ y như là đứa làm nền cho bạn nó mà thôi - !” Bà Slade bật cười rục rịch, và tiếng cười đó làm bà Ansley ngưng đan.

"Yes—?"

“ Gì cơ chị-?”

"I—oh, nothing. I was only thinking how your Babs carries everything before her. That Campolieri boy is one of the best matches in Rome. Don't look so innocent, my dear—you know he is. And I was wondering, ever so respectfully, you understand... wondering how two such exemplary characters as you and Horace had managed to produce anything quite so dynamic." Mrs. Slade laughed again, with a touch of asperity.

“ Tôi - ồ, không có gì. Tôi chỉ đã nghĩ là làm sao mà con Babs nó có mọi thứ cơ chứ. Cái thằng Camplieri đó là một trong những đám mà người ta thèm muốn nhất ở Rome . Đừng làm bộ nữa, bạn yêu - chị biết hắn mà ai mà. Và tôi đã thắc mắc, thực sự là lúc nào cũng thắc mắc, chị biết đấy … thắc mắc rằng làm sao mà hai người mẫu mực như chị và anh Horace lại sinh ra một đứa lanh lợi như thế chứ.” Bà Slade cười một lần nữa với một chút bực tức.

Mrs. Ansley's hands lay inert across her needles. She looked straight out at the great accumulated wreckage of passion and splendor at her feet. But her small profile was almost expressionless. At length she said, "I think you overrate Babs, my dear."

Đôi tay của bà Ansley vẫn còn để nguyên vắt chéo qua mấy cây que đan. Bà ta nhìn thằng ra phía ngoài vào những phế tích của niềm đam mê và lộng lẫy to lớn được tích tụ lại dưới chân mình. Nhưng cái khuôn mặt nhìn ngang của bà ta hầu như vô cảm. Cuối cùng bà ta nói, “ Tôi nghĩ là chị đánh giá quá cao con Babs, chị ạ.”

Mrs. Slade's tone grew easier. "No; I don't. I appreciate her. And perhaps envy you. Oh, my girl's perfect; if I were a chronic invalid I'd—well, I think I'd rather be in Jenny's hands. There must be times... but there! I always wanted a brilliant daughter... and never quite understood why I got an angel instead."

Giọng bà Sla de trở nên nhẹ nhàng hơn.” Không. Tôi đánh giá cao nó mà. Và có phần ghen tỵ với chị. Ồ, con gái tôi thì ngoan quá; nếu tôi là người tàn tật, à thì có lẽ là tôi nghĩ rằng mình sẽ thích ở trong vòng tay của Jenny. Hẳn sẽ có lúc như vậy thôi… nhưng chị thấy đó! Tôi đã luôn muốn có một đứa con gái thông minh … và hầu như chẳng thể nào hiểu được là thay vào đó tôi lại có một thiên thần.

Mrs. Ansley echoed her laugh in a faint murmur. "Babs is an angel too."

Bà Ansley cười đáp lại trong một giọng thì thào nhỏ. “ Babs nó cũng là một thần mà.”

"Of course—of course! But she's got rainbow wings. Well, they're wandering by the sea with their young men; and here we sit... and it all brings back the past a little too acutely."

“ Dĩ nhiên – dĩ nhiên! Nhưng nó có tương lai rực rỡ. Ôi, chúng nó đang đi dạo trên biển với những chàng trai trẻ; và chúng ta thì ngồi đây… và tất cả cảnh tượng này chỉ gợi về quá khứ có phần sâu sắc.”

Mrs. Ansley had resumed her knitting. One might almost have imagined (if one had known her less well, Mrs. Slade reflected) that, for her also, too many memories rose from the lengthening shadows of those august ruins. But no; she was simply absorbed in her work. What was there for her to worry about! She knew that Babs would almost certainly come back engaged to the extremely eligible Campolieri. "And she'll sell the New York house, and settle down near them in Rome, and never be in their way... she's much too tactful. But she'll have an excellent cook, and just the right people in for bridge and cocktails... and a perfectly peacefuI old age among her grandchildren."

Bà Ansley đã quay trở lại đan. Người ta hầu như có thể hình dung ( nếu những người đó không biết nhiều đến bà ta, bà Sla de suy tư ) rằng , đối với bà ta cũng thế, quá nhiều những kỷ niệm hiện ra từ những cái bóng đang trải dài cùa những cái phế tích oai vệ kia. Nhưng không; bà ta hiển nhiên là đang đắm mình trong công việc của mình. Ờ đó có gì để bà ta lo lắng cơ chứ! Bà ta biết rằng con Babs hầu như chắc chắn quay trở về và đính hôn với thằng Cam polieri cực kỳ được mọi người thèm khát đó. “ Và bà ta sẽ bán ngôi nhà ở New York , và cư ngụ gần con cái của bà ta ở Rome , và bà ta sẽ có cuộc sống khác với mình … bà ta khôn khéo quá đi mất. Nhưng bà ta sẽ có một đầu bếp tuyệt vời, và có những người phù hợp để chơi bài tây và tiệc tùng… và có một cuộc sống tuổi già bình yên tuyệt vời giữa đàn cháu của mình.”

Mrs. Slade broke off this prophetic flight with a recoil of self-disgust. There was no one of whom she had less right to think unkindly than of Grace Ansley. Would she never cure herself of envying her! Perhaps she had begun too long ago.

Bà Slade tách ra khỏi sự suy đoán này bằng việc một cái giật bắn người về phía sau bởi sự kinh tởm chính bản thân mình. Chỉ có Grace Ansley là bà ta có quyền không nghĩ tốt mà thôi. Bà ta sẽ chẳng bao giờ chữa cho mình khỏi sự ganh tỵ với bạn mình! Có lẽ bả ta đã bắt đầu ganh tỵ từ rất lâu rồi.

She stood up and leaned against the parapet, filling her troubled eyes with the tranquilizing magic of the hour. But instead of tranquilizing her the sight seemed to increase her exasperation. Her gaze turned toward the Colosseum. Already its golden flank was drowned in purple shadow, and above it the sky curved crystal clear, without light or color. It was the moment when afternoon and evening hang balanced in midheaven.

Bà ta đứng dậy tựa người vào lan can, cố làm yên dịu trở lại đôi mắt ganh tỵ của mình bằng cảnh đẹp lúc đó. Nhưng thay vì làm yên dịu mình thì cái cảnh này dường như làm tăng thêm sự bực bội của bà ta. Cái nhìn đăm đăm của bà ta quay về phía đấu trường Col osseum. Cái sườn đầy nắng vàng của nó đã bị nhấn chìm trong cái bóng chìều tím, và bầu trời phía trên nó uốn cong trong vắt như pha lê, không có chút ánh sáng hay màu sắc gì cả. Đó chính là giây phút mà buổi chiều và buổi tối giao nhau trên bầu trời.

Mrs. Slade turned back and laid her hand on her friend's arm. The gesture was so abrupt that Mrs. Ansley looked up, startled.

Bà Slade quay ngược trở lại và đặt tay lên cánh tay của bạn mình. Cái động tác đó quá đột ngột đến nỗi bà Ansley giật nảy người ngước nhìn lên.

"The sun's set. You're not afraid, my dear?"

“Trời lặn rồi. Bộ chị không sợ sao, bạn yêu?”

"Afraid—?"

“ Sợ gì cơ - ?”

"Of Roman fever or pneumonia! I remember how ill you were that winter. As a girl you had a very delicate throat, hadn't you?"

“ Sợ bệnh sốt rét La Mã hay bệnh sưng phổi đây ! Tôi còn nhớ vào mùa đông đó chị bệnh quá chừng luôn. Khi còn là con gái thì cổ họng của chị yếu lắm, phải không nào?”

"Oh, we're all right up here. Down below, in the Forum, it does get deathly cold, all of a sudden... but not here."

“Ồ, hai chúng ta ở ngay tại đây. Xuống phía bên dưới, trong cái Forum, trời lạnh đến chết người, đột nhiên … nhưng không phải ở đây.”

"Ah, of course you know because you had to be so careful." Mrs. Slade turned back to the parapet. She thought: "I must make one more effort not to hate her." Aloud she said: "Whenever I look at the Forum from up here, I remember that story about a great-aunt of yours, wasn't she? A dreadfully wicked great-aunt?"

“À, dĩ nhiên là chị biết điều đó bời vì chị đã phải rất cẩn thận mà.” Bà Slade quay người trờ ra phía lan can. Bà ta nghĩ: “ Tôi phải làm một nỗ lực hơn nữa để không ghét bà ta.” Bà ta nói lớn lên: “ Mỗi khi tôi nhìn vào cái Forum từ trên cao như thế này, tôi nhớ đến câu chuyện về bà cố gì của chị, bà ấy phải không? một bà cố gì độc ác đến phát khiếp phải không?”

"Oh, yes; Great-aunt Harriet. The one who was supposed to have sent her young sister out to the Forum after sunset to gather a nightblooming flower for her album. All our great-aunts and grandmothers used to have albums of dried flowers."

“Ồ, đúng rồi, bà cố gì Harriet. Chính là người được cho đã sai cô em gái của minh đi ra tới Forum sau khi mặt trời lặn để thu nhặt một bông hoa nở về đêm cho bộ sưu tập của mình. Tất các bà cố gì và bà của chúng ta đã từng có những bộ sưu tập hoa khô mà.”

Mrs. Slade nodded. "But she really sent her because they were in love with the same man"

Bà Slade gật đầu. “ Nhưng bà ta sai cô em đi thực ra là bởi vì cả hai người đều yêu 1 người đàn ông – “

"Well, that was the family tradition. They said Aunt Harriet confessed it years afterward. At any rate, the poor little sister caught the fever and died. Mother used to frighten us with the story when we were children."

“Thực vậy, đó là truyền thống gia đình thôi. Người ta nói gì Harriet đã thú nhận điều đó sau nhiều năm. Dẫu sao thì cô em gái tội nghiệp của cố gì cũng bị sốt rét và chết. Mẹ tôi đã từng doạ chúng tôi bằng câu chuyện đó khi chúng tôi còn nhỏ.”

"And you frightened me with it, that winter when you and I were here as girls. The winter I was engaged to Delphin."

“ Và chị cũng đã hù doạ tôi bằng câu chuyện đó, mùa đông đó khi mà cả chị vả tôi đã ở đây khi còn là con gái. Cái mùa đông mà tôi đã đính hôn với Delphin đó.”

Mrs. Ansley gave a faint laugh. "Oh, did I! Really frightened you? I don't believe you're easily frightened."

Bà Ansley bật cười nho nhỏ. “Ồ, tôi đã doạ sao! Thực sự là đã doạ chị thiệt sao? Tôi không tin là chị dễ dàng bị hù doạ đâu.”

"Not often; but I was then. I was easily frightened because I was too happy. I wonder if you know what that means?"

“Không thường xuyên lắm; nhưng lúc đó tôi rất dễ bị doạ mà bởi vì khi đó tôi quá hạnh phúc. Tôi không biết là liệu chị có biết ý của tôi không?”

"I—yes... " Mrs. Ansley faltered.

“ Tôi – có chứ… “ bà Ansley nói ngắt quãng.

"Well, I suppose that was why the story of your wicked aunt made such an impression on me. And I thought: 'There's no more Roman fever, but the Forum is deathly cold after sunset—especially after a hot day. And the Colosseum's even colder and damper.'"

“ Thực ra, tôi cho rằng đó là lý do tại sao câu chuyện về người dì độc ác của chị đã gây một ảnh hưởng mạnh mẽ với tôi như thế. Và tôi nghĩ : ‘làm gì còn cơn sốt La Mã nữa, nhưng sau khi mặt trời lặn thì Forum là nơi lạnh đến chết người - đặc biệt là sau một ngày nắng nóng. Và Colosseum thậm chí còn lạnh và ẩm thấp hơn nữa.”

"The Colosseum—?"

“Đấu trường Col osseum ư - ?”

"Yes. It wasn't easy to get in, after the gates were locked for the night. Far from easy. Still, in those days it could be managed; it was managed, often. Lovers met there who couldn't meet elsewhere. You knew that?"

“Đúng vậy. Đâu có dễ vào trong đó sau khi các cánh cổng đã bị khoá lại vào buổi tối. Cực kỳ là khó. Tuy nhiên, lúc bấy giờ thì người ta vẫn có thể xoay xở vào được; thường là vẫn xoay xở được. Những người đang yêu mà không thể gặp nhau ở chỗ khác thì gặp nhau ở đó. Chị biết điều đó chứ?”

"I—I daresay. I don't remember."

“Tôi – tôi khẳng định. Tôi không nhớ nữa.”

"You don't remember? You don't remember going to visit some ruins or other one evening, just after dark, and catching a bad chill! You were supposed to have gone to see the moonrise. People always said that expedition was what caused your illness."

“ Chị không nhớ ư? Chị không nhớ là chị định đi xem một vài cái phế tích hay cái gì khác vào một buổi tối chỉ sau khi màn đêm xuống, và chị bị cảm rất nặng! Người ra nghĩ là chị đã đi ngắm trăng mọc. Người ta vẫn luôn nói rằng chính việc đi chơi đó làm chị bịnh quá chừng luôn.”

There was a moment's silence; then Mrs. Ansley rejoined: "Did they? It was all so long ago."

Yên lặng trong giây lát; sau đó bà Ansley trả lời: “ Vậy họ đã nói thế à? Chuyện đó lâu quá rồi còn gì.”

"Yes. And you got well again—so it didn't matter. But I suppose it struck your friends—the reason given for your illness. I mean—because everybody knew you were so prudent on account of your throat, and your mother took such care of you.... You had been out late sightseeing, hadn't you, that night"

“Đúng vậy. Và chị đã nhớ lại nhiều rồi đấy - Chuyện đó cũng đâu có gì nghiêm trọng. Nhưng tôi nghĩ là cái lý do mà chị đưa ra về việc chị bệnh làm cho những người bạn của chị chú ý. Ý tôi là bởi vì mọi người biết rằng chị là người rất cẩn thận về sức khỏe của cổ họng chị, và mẹ chị canh chừng chị kỹ thế kia cơ mà… Thế mà chị lại đi ra ngoài ngắm cảnh tới khuya vào đêm đó, có phải vậy không nào.”

"Perhaps I had. The most prudent girls aren't always prudent. What made you think of it now?"

“ Có lẽ là tôi đã ra ngoài khuya. Người con gái cẩn thận nhất cũng có lúc không cẩn thận mà. Giờ đây cái gì khiến chị nhớ đến chuyện đó vậy?”

Mrs. Slade seemed to have no answer ready. But after a moment she broke out: "Because I simply can't bear it any longer—"

Bà Slade dường như bị bất ngờ với câu hỏi. Nhưng sau một lúc bà ta nói to lên: “Bởi vì đơn giản là tôi không thể chịu đựng được điều đó thêm một tý nào nữa – “

Mrs. Ansley lifted her head quickly. Her eyes were wide and very pale. "Can't bear what?"

Bà Ansley nhanh chóng ngẩng đầu lên. Đôi mắt trợn tròn và trắng nhợt. “ Không thể chịu đựng được điều gì cơ chứ?”

"Why—your not knowing that I've always known why you went."

“Tại sao à - bộ chị không biết rằng tôi lúc nào cũng đã biết vì sao chị đã đi ra ngoài.”

"Why I went—?"

“ Tại sao tôi đi ra ngoài ư - ?”

"Yes. You think I'm bluffing, don't you? Well, you went to meet the man I was engaged to—and I can repeat every word of the letter that took you there."

“Đúng vậy, chị nghĩ là tôi đang hù chị phải không? Thực vậy, chị đã đi gặp vị hôn phu của tôi và tôi có thể lặp lại từ từng của lá thư mà đã dẫn chị đi tới đó.”

While Mrs. Slade spoke Mrs. Ansley had risen unsteadily to her feet. Her bag, her knitting and gloves, slid in a panic-stricken heap to the ground. She looked at Mrs. Slade as though she were looking at a ghost.

Bà Ansley run rẩy trong khi bà Slade nói. Túi xách, găng tay, đồ đan rơi tuột xuống đất trong khi bà đang hoang mang sợ hãi. Bà nhìn bà Slade như thể đang nhìn một bóng ma. 

"No, no—don't," she faltered out.

“ Không, không – không có.” Bà ta nói ngắt quãng.

"Why not? Listen, if you don't believe me. 'My one darling, things can't go on like this. I must see you alone. Come to the Colosseum immediately after dark tomorrow. There will be somebody to let you in. No one whom you need fear will suspect'—but perhaps you've forgotten what the letter said?"

“ Không có ư? Nếu chị không tin tôi thì nghe nè. ‘Em yêu dấu duy nhất của anh, mọi thứ không thể tiếp diễn như thế này được. Anh phải gặp riêng mình em. Hãy đến Col osseum ngay sau khi trời tối vào ngày mai. Sẽ có người đưa em vào trong. Em không cần phải sợ người khác nghi ngờ’ – nhưng có lẽ chị đã quên mất cái thư đó nói gì rồi?”

Mrs. Ansley met the challenge with an unexpected composure. Steadying herself against the chair she looked at her friend, and replied: "No; I know it by heart too."

Bà Ansley đối diện cái thử thách này bằng một sự trấn tĩnh đến bất ngờ. Trong khi dựa người vững chắc vào ghế, bà ta nhìn vào bà bạn của mình và trả lời: “Không; tôi cũng thuộc lòng lá thư đó mà.”

"And the signature? 'Only your D.S.' Was that it? I'm right, am I? That was the letter that took you out that evening after dark?"

“ Và chữ ký nữa chứ? ‘D.S chỉ là của em.’ Lá thư đó là thế phải không nào? Tôi nói đúng, đúng không? Đó chính là lá thư mà khiến chị đi ra ngoài vào tối hôm đó sau màn đêm đúng không?”

Mrs. Ansley was still looking at her. It seemed to Mrs. Slade that a slow struggle was going on behind the voluntarily controlled mask of her small quiet face. "I shouldn't have thought she had herself so well in hand," Mrs. Slade reflected, almost resentfully. But at this moment Mrs. Ansley spoke. "I don't know how you knew. I burned that letter at once."

Bà Ansley vẫn đang nhìn vào bà ta. Đối với bà Sla de dưởng như có một sự vẫy vùng từ từ đang diễn ra phía sau cái mặt nạ được điểu khiển bằng lý trí của cái khuôn mặt trầm tính nhỏ nhắn đó. “Đáng lý ra tôi không nên nghĩ là chị sẽ xử lý tốt chuyện đó,” bà Sla de suy tư, hầu như là bực bội. Nhưng lần này bà Ansley nói.” Tôi không biết làm sao mà chị lại biết được lá thư đó. Tôi đã đốt chúng ngay khi đọc xong rồi mà.”

"Yes; you would, naturally—you're so prudent!" The sneer was open now. "And if you burned the letter you're wondering how on earth I know what was in it. That's it, isn't it?"

“Đúng thế; chị đã đốt nó, hiển nhiên rồi - chị là người rất cẩn thận mà!” Giờ đây bà ta bắt đầu dè bỉu. “Và nếu chị đã đốt chúng vậy thì chị đang tự hỏi làm quái nào mà tôi lại biết trong đó viết những gì. Có đúng vậy không nào?”

Mrs. Slade waited, but Mrs. Ansley did not speak.

Bà Slade chờ đợi, nhưng bà Ansley chẳng nói lời nào.

"Well, my dear, I know what was in that letter because I wrote it!"

“Thực ra, chị à, tôi biết những gì viết trong thư là bởi vì chính tôi đã viết nó!”

"You wrote it?"

“Chị viết nó sao?”

"Yes."

“Đúng vậy.”

The two women stood for a minute staring at each other in the last golden light. Then Mrs. Ansley dropped back into her chair. "Oh," she murmured, and covered her face with her hands.

Hai người phụ nữ đứng dậy nhìn chằm chằm vào nhau trong giây phút trong ánh nắng vàng cuối cùng. Sau đó bà Ansley ngồi phệt xuống vào trong ghế. “Ôi,” bà ta thì thào, và đưa hai tay lên che lấy khuôn mặt.

Mrs. Slade waited nervously for another word or movement. None came, and at length she broke out: "I horrify you."

Bà Slade căng thẳng chờ đợi một lời lẽ hay một cử chỉ nào khác. Nhưng chẳng có gì cả, và cuối cùng bà ta nói lớn :”Tôi kinh sợ chị.”

Mrs. Ansley's hands dropped to her knees. The face they uncovered was streaked with tears. "I wasn't thinking of you. I was thinking—it was the only letter I ever had from him!"

Bà Ansley buông hai tay xuống đầu gầu gối. Khuôn mặt lúc này để lộ ra những vệt nước mắt. “ Tôi đã không nghĩ chị là bạn tôi. Tôi đã nghĩ rằng đó chính là lá thư mà tôi đã có từ anh ta!”

"And I wrote it. Yes; I wrote it! But I was the girl he was engaged to. Did you happen to remember that?"

“ Và tôi đã viết nó. Đúng vây: tôi đã viết nó đó! Nhưng tôi mới là người con gái mà anh ta đã đính hôn. Chị có ngẫu nhiên nghĩ tới điều đó không?”

Mrs. Ansley's head drooped again. "I'm not trying to excuse myself... I remembered... "

Bà Ansley cụp đầu xuống một lần nữa. “Tôi sẽ không cố bào chữa cho mình nữa… Tôi đã nhớ chứ…”

"And still you went?"

“Và chị vẫn đi ư?”

"Still I went."

“ Tôi vẫn đi.”

Mrs. Slade stood looking down on the small bowed figure at her side. The flame of her wrath had already sunk, and she wondered why she had ever thought there would be any satisfaction in inflicting so purposeless a wound on her friend. But she had to justify herself.

Bà slade đứng nhìn xuống cái thân hình nhỏ nhắn cong người lại bên cạnh mình. Ngọn lửa cuồng nộ của bà ta đã chìm xuống, và bà ta tự hỏi tại sao bà ta đã từng nghĩ rằng có bất kỳ sự thoả mãn nào trong việc vô tình gây ra vết thương cho bạn mình. Nhưng bà ta phải chứng minh là mình đúng.

"You do understand? I'd found out—and I hated you, hated you. I knew you were in love with Delphin—and I was afraid; afraid of you, of your quiet ways, your sweetness... your... well, I wanted you out of the way, that's all. Just for a few weeks; just till I was sure of him. So in a blind fury I wrote that letter... I don't know why I'm telling you now."

“Chị có hiểu không? Tôi đã phát hiện ra – và tôi đã ghét chị, ghét chị. Tôi đã biết chị yêu anh Delphin – và tôi đã sợ; sợ chị, sợ những cái cách điềm tĩnh của chị, sự ngọt ngào của chị … của chị … thực vậy, tôi muốn chị đừng cản đường tôi, thế thôi. Chỉ trong một vài tuần; chỉ khi tôi đã nắm chắc anh ấy. Vì thế trong một lúc cuồng nộ mù quáng tôi đã viết lá thư đó… Tôi không biết là tại sao giờ đây tôi lại đi nói với chị.”

"I suppose," said Mrs. Ansley slowly, "it's because you've always gone on hating me."

“Tôi cho là,” bà Ansley từ từ nói, “đó là bởi vì chị lúc nào chị cũng ghét tôi suốt.”

"Perhaps. Or because I wanted to get the whole thing off my mind." She paused. "I'm glad you destroyed the letter. Of course I never thought you'd die."

“Có lẽ thế. Hoặc là bởi vì tôi đã muốn nói hết mọi chuyện này trong đầu ra.” Bà ta ngưng lại. “Tôi mừng là chị đã đốt lá thư đó. Đương nhiên là tôi đã chưa bao giờ nghĩ là chị sẽ chết.”

Mrs. Ansley relapsed into silence, and Mrs. Slade, leaning above her, was conscious of a strange sense of isolation, of being cut off from the warm current of human communion. "You think me a monster!"

Bà Ansley yên lặng trở lại, và bà Slade, ngả người phía trên bà ta, nhận thức được một cảm giác lạ lùng của sự cô độc, của việc bị tách ra khỏi cái dòng chảy ấm áp của sự cảm thông con người. “ Chị nghĩ tôi là một con quỷ sao.!”

"I don't know... It was the only letter I had, and you say he didn't write it"

“ Tôi không biết nữa … Đó chính là lá thư duy nhất tôi đã có, và giờ chị lại nói rằng không phải chính anh ta đã viết nó.”

"Ah, how you care for him still!"

“À, chị vẫn còn lo lắng cho anh ta đến thế kia à!”

"I cared for that memory," said Mrs. Ansley.

“ Tôi quan tâm đến cái kỷ niệm đó,” bà Ansley nói.

Mrs. Slade continued to look down on her. She seemed physically reduced by the blow—as if, when she got up, the wind might scatter her like a puff of dust. Mrs. Slade's jealousy suddenly leaped up again at the sight. All these years the woman had been living on that letter. How she must have loved him, to treasure the mere memory of its ashes! The letter of the man her friend was engaged to. Wasn't it she who was the monster?

Bà Slade tiếp tục đứng nhìn xuống bạn mình. Bà ta dường như mềm nhũn người bởi đòn giáng đó – như thể là khi bà ta thức dậy, thì cơn gió đó có thể xé tan bà ta như một đám bụi. Sự ghen tức của bà Sla de đột nhiên nhảy dựng lên một lần nữa vào cái cảnh đẹp này. Người phụ nữ đó đã sống suốt bằng ấy năm chỉ vì cái lá thư ấy. Hẳn là bà ta yêu anh ấy biết chừng nào, để ấp ủ cái kỷ niệm chỉ là đống tro tàn! Cái lá thư của người đàn ông mà bạn mình đã đính hôn. Vây không phải chính bà ta mới là con qủy sao?

"You tried your best to get him away from me, didn't you? But you failed; and I kept him. That's all."

“Chị đã cố hết sức để lôi anh ta ra khỏi tôi, có phải vậy không nào? Nhưng chị đã thua; và tôi đã giữ được anh ấy. Chuyện là thế.”

"Yes. That's all."

“Đúng vậy, chuyện là thế.”

"I wish now I hadn't told you. I'd no idea you'd feel about it as you do; I thought you'd be amused. It all happened so long ago, as you say; and you must do me the justice to remember that I had no reason to think you'd ever taken it seriously. How could I, when you were married to Horace Ansley two months afterward? As soon as you could get out of bed your mother rushed you off to Florence and married you. People were rather surprised—they wondered at its being done so quickly; but I thought I knew. I had an idea you did it out of pique—to be able to say you'd got ahead of Delphin and me. Kids have such silly reasons for doing the most serious things. And your marrying so soon convinced me that you'd never really cared."

“Bây giờ tôi ước là tôi đã không nói cho chị biết. Tôi đã không biết rằng chị sẽ cảm nhận nó như thế; Tôi đã nghĩ là chị sẽ vui. Chu yện đó xảy ra cũng đã quá lâu rồi, như chị nói đó; và chị phải công tâm với tôi mà để nhớ rằng tôi chắng có lý do gì để nghĩ chị đã từng đón nhận lá thư đó một cách nghiêm túc. Tôi có thể nghĩ thế nào khi chị đã cưới Horace Ansley chỉ 2 tháng sau đó? Ngay khi chị có thể ra khỏi giường thì mẹ chị đã vội vã đưa chị rời khỏi Rome đi Florence và làm đám cưới cho chị. Mọi người đã rất ngạc nhiên - họ thắc mắc là lễ cưới được làm quá chóng vánh; nhưng tôi nghĩ là tôi biết. Tôi đã có một ý nghĩ là chị lảm đám cưới vì chị tức tôi – để có thể nói rằng chị đã làm đám cưới còn trước cả Del phi n và tôi. Mấy đứa trẻ có những lý do hết sức là ngớ ngẩn để làm những việc cực kỳ quan trọng. Và cái đám cưới chóng vánh của chị đã thuyết phục tôi rằng chị đã chẳng bao giờ quan tâm đến lá thư đó.”

"Yes. I suppose it would," Mrs. Ansley assented.

“Đúng thế. Tôi cho là thế,” Bà Ansley đồng ý.

The clear heaven overhead was emptied of all its gold. Dusk spread over it, abruptly darkening the Seven Hills. Here and there lights began to twinkle through the foliage at their feet. Steps were coming and going on the deserted terrace—waiters looking out of the doorway at the head of the stairs, then reappearing with trays and napkins and flasks of wine. Tables were moved, chairs straightened. A feeble string of electric lights flickered out. A stout lady in a dustcoat suddenly appeared, asking in broken Italian if anyone had seen the elastic band which held together her tattered Baedeker. She poked with her stick under the table at which she had lunched, the waiters assisting.

Bầu trời trong sáng trên đầu họ không còn nắng vàng. Hoàng hôn trải dài trên bầu trời, đột nhiên bóng tối bao trùm cả thành phố. Rải rác những ánh đèn bắt đầu lấp lánh xuyên qua những đám lá dưới chân họ. Những bước chân đến và đi trên cái sân thượng trống vắng – những người phục vụ đang nhìn ra bên ngoài cánh cửa ở đầu những bậc thang, sau đó lại xuất hiện cùng với những cái khay, những khăn ăn và những chai rượu dẹp. Họ dịch chuyển những cái bàn, những cái ghế cho ngay thẳng. Một chùm ánh điện yếu ớt chiếu ra lập loè. Một quý bà mập mạp trong cái áo che bụi đột nhiên xuất hiện, hỏi bằng tiếng Ý giọng nước ngoài rằng có ai thấy cái dây thung cột để giữ cái cuốn sách du lịch bị xé rách của bả ta hay không. Bà ta lấy gậy chọc chọc xuống dưới cái bàn mà bà ta đã ngồi ăn trưa, những người phục vụ cũng giúp bà ta tìm kiếm.

The corner where Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley sat was still shadowy and deserted. For a long time neither of them spoke. At length Mrs. Slade began again: "I suppose I did it as a sort of joke—"

Cái góc mà bà Sla de và bà Ansley ngồi vẫn còn tối và vắng người. Một lúc lâu mà cả hai chẳng nới với nhau câu nào. Cuối cùng bà Sla de bắt đầu nói: “ Tôi nghĩ là tôi viết lá thư đó như là một trò đùa thôi –“

"A joke?"

“ Một trò đùa ư?”

"Well, girls are ferocious sometimes, you know. Girls in love especially. And I remember laughing to myself all that evening at the idea that you were waiting around there in the dark, dodging out of sight, listening for every sound, trying to get in—of course I was upset when I heard you were so ill afterward."

“Đúng vậy, chị biết đấy thỉnh thoảng tụi con gái cũng dữ tợn lắm. Đặc biệt là mấy đứa con gái đang yêu. Và tôi nhớ là tôi đã tự cười suốt cả tối hôm đó khi nghĩ rằng chị đang đợi quanh quẩn đâu đó trong bóng tối, lẩn tránh để khỏi bị phát hiện, lắng nghe từng âm thanh, cố để vào trong – dĩ nhiên là tôi đã cảm thấy lo lắng khi tôi nghe tin chị ốm nặng sau đó.”

Mrs. Ansley had not moved for a long time. But now she turned slowly toward her companion. "But I didn't wait. He'd arranged everything. He was there. We were let in at once," she said.

Bà Ansley không động đậy trong một lúc lâu. Nhưng giờ đây bà ta từ từ quay lại phía bạn mình. “ Nhưng tôi không phải đợi. Anh ấy đã sắp xếp mọi thứ. Anh ấy đã ở đó. Lần đó chúng tôi đã vào trong.” Bà ta nói.

Mrs. Slade sprang up from her leaning position. "Delphin there! They let you in! Ah, now you're lying!" she burst out with violence.

Bà Slade giật bắn người lên từ chỗ mà bà ta đứng tựa người. “ Del phi n ở đó ư! Họ cho hai người vào ư! À, giờ chắc chị đang nói dối!” bà ta nói lớn lên với sự giận dữ.

Mrs. Ansley's voice grew clearer, and full of surprise. "But of course he was there. Naturally he came—"

Giọng của bà Ansley trở nên rõ ràng hơn, và đầy ắp sự ngạc nhiên.” Nhưng dĩ nhiên là anh ấy đã ở đó mà. Đương nhiên là anh ấy đã đến – “

"Came? How did he know he'd find you there? You must be raving!"

“Đã đến ư? Làm sao anh ấy biết là sẽ tìm thấy chị ở đó? hẳn là chị đang nói bốc nói phét!”

Mrs. Ansley hesitated, as though reflecting. "But I answered the letter. I told him I'd be there. So he came."

Bà Ansley lưỡng lự như thể đang suy tư. “ Nhưng tôi đã trả lời lá thư đó. Tôi nói với anh ấy rằng tôi sẽ ở đó. Vì thế mà anh ấy đã đến.”

Mrs. Slade flung her hands up to her face. "Oh, God—you answered! I never thought of your answering.... "

Bà Slade vung tay che mặt lại. “Ôi chúa ơi - chị đã trả lời thư! Tôi đã chưa bao giờ nghĩ tới việc chị sẽ trả lời thư …”

"It's odd you never thought of it, if you wrote the letter."

“Thật lạ là chị đã không bao giờ nghĩ tới điều đó nếu chị là người viết thư.”

"Yes. I was blind with rage."

“Vâng. Tôi đã bị cơn giận làm cho mù quáng.”

Mrs. Ansley rose, and drew her fur scarf about her. "It is cold here. We'd better go.... I'm sorry for you," she said, as she clasped the fur about her throat.

Bà Ansley đứng dậy và kéo cái khăng choàng bằng lông thú về phía mình. “Ở đây lạnh quá. Tốt hơn hết chúng ta nên đi … Tôi thương hại cho chị,” bà ta nói khi bà ta quấn quanh cái khăn vào cổ bà ta.

The unexpected words sent a pang through Mrs. Slade. "Yes; we'd better go." She gathered up her bag and cloak. "I don't know why you should be sorry for me," she muttered.

Những lời lẽ bất ngờ đó làm cho bà Sla de đau nhói. “Ừ, chúng ta nên đi.” Bà ta thu nhặt ví xách và áo khoác của mình. “ Tôi không biết là tại sao chị lại thương hại cho tôi,” bà ta nói khẽ.

Mrs. Ansley stood looking away from her toward the dusky mass of the Colosseum. "Well—because I didn't have to wait that night."

Bà Ansley đứng nhìn xa xăm hướng về phía đám bụi khổng lồ của đấu trường Colosseum. “À là bởi vì vào đêm hôm đó tôi đâu có phải đợi.”

Mrs. Slade gave an unquiet laugh. "Yes, I was beaten there. But I oughtn't to begrudge it to you, I suppose. At the end of all these years. After all, I had everything; I had him for twenty-five years. And you had nothing but that one letter that he didn't write."

Bà Slade bật cười lo lắng. “Ừ, tôi đã bị đánh bại lúc đó. Nhưng tôi cho rằng tôi chẳng nên ghen tức điều đó với chị. Cuối cùng sau bằng đó năm. Dẫu sao tôi cũng đã có mọi thứ; Tôi đã có anh ấy trong 25 năm. Còn chị chả có gì ngoại trừ một lá thư mà không phải do anh ấy viết.”

Mrs. Ansley was again silent. At length she took a step toward the door of the terrace, and turned back, facing her companion.

Bà Ansley yên lặng một lần nữa. Cuối cùng bà ta bước một bước về phía cánh cửa của sân thượng và quay ngược trở lại đối mặt với người bạn của mình.

"I had Barbara," she said, and began to move ahead of Mrs. Slade toward the stairway.

“Tôi có Barbara,” bà ta nói và bắt đầu di chuyển lên trước bà Slade hướng về phía cầu thang.

Topic: what are your impression of Alida and Grace? Who gets more of your sympathy? Find details to support your answer.

In the 20Th century American literature, Edith Wharton was an outstanding novelist who wrote many short stories, the best of which is '' Roman Fever'', the story about two middle-aged widows of the leisure class involved in a love triangle 25 years earlier; one is Alida Slade, and the other is Grace Ansley. The clear contrast of their characters gives me as a reader different impression, hence, different feelings.

In fact, the author's skillful description of Alida's psychology throughout the story gives the impression that she is obviously subject to the passion of love and other love-related passion – jealousy, envy, hate and fear – the sentimental dangers. When a girl, she loved Delphin so passionately that she became jealous of Grace, the more beautiful lady, who also loved her fiancé, Delphin. Her envy toward Grace filled her with hatred for her opponent because she feared to lose him; therefore, she found every means to get rid of that woman. That is the reason why she wrote to Grace, requesting a rendez-vous in the Coloseum in the name of Delphin, in the hope that Grace would wait for Delphin there in vain and catch a '' Roman fever'', a fatal disease, her malicious stratagem against Grace failed beyond her expectation. Even after they got married, she still covered her hate for Grace by saying that the latter's house was a ''speak-easy'' to see it raided by the police. This time , in Rome again, she wants to humiliate Grace by letting-out the trick she played on her twenty-five years ago without knowing that it will boomerang on herself.

In contract to Alida, Grace is free from all the sentimental danger committed by Alida though she was affected by the passion of love when she was a girl. She loved Delphin, Alida's fiance, and had a daughter with him after their love meeting in the Colosseum, but she has kept it a secret because she does not want to offend Alida. She only lets it out at the last minute when Alida wants to humiliate her. Her reaction is understandable because it is not revenge but self-defence. Her attitude toward her old friend throughout the story deserves our admiration.

In short, the more I read the story, the more I hate Alida and admire Grace's dignity. In other words, through this story, Edith Wharton proves herself as a writer of a sure sense of psychology and is worthy of being called one of the best short-story writes in the 20th century.

 

 

 

"Roman Fever" and "The Chrysanthemums"  - A Comparison

The two short stories have different characters, plot and setting and yet they have a common ground in which human beings are deeply involved.  In short, the setting of each work powerfully suggests a rather calm, dull and peaceful mood at a superficial level; however, the main characters are struggling from the uncontrollable passions and exploding desire at heart.  First of all, in "The Chrysanthemums" the Salinas Valley is depicted as somewhat dull, like "a closed pot."  In addition, its geographical setting represents an isolated atmosphere, and, furthermore, Elisa's actions of handling  chrysanthemums can be translated into a static, inactive one.  However, when it comes to her concealed passion, the whole picture in this piece can be interpreted in a different way.  In fact, Elisa is portrayed as "over-eager, over-powerful" in a sharp contrast to the unanimated space in which she lives.  On top of that, Elisa expresses her volition to explore uncharted worlds like the peddler who happens to visit her farm house. Also, it must be noted that, even though Elisa does not reveal her desire openly largely due to the authoritative patriarchal system,  Elisa's interior motive is directed toward the violent, bloody prizefights.  In other words, the imbalance between the relatively restricted setting and Elisa's vaulting desire to wander into the unknown territory is chiefly designed to strengthen the overall imagery of Elisa, whose drive to experience the violent outer world.  At the same time, it can be inferred that appearance (setting) and reality (Elisa's human nature) are hard to understand.  In this regard, "Roman Fever" provides an exquisitely similar portrait.  At first, there are various descriptions elevating a serene mood as follows: "diffused serenity", "the spring effulgence of the Roman skies", "the sky curved crystal clear" and  "The corner...still shadowy and deserted."  As shown above, readers are likely to be misled by a peaceful mood.

Essay on Roman Fever

The climax in " Roman Fever " by Edith Wharton appears at the very end of the story, however the author, she has prepaired subtly for this shocking ending by using a series of foreshadowdings and hints before reaching the climax.

At the first part of the story, the foreshadowings mostly concentrates on Mrs. Ansley. When Mrs. Slade praised the Palatine for its beauty Mrs. Ansley assented" with so slight a stress on the 'me' "and a small break in the middle of the sentence: "It always will be, to me". And then the next "undefinable stress" on "remember": "Oh, yes, I remember". It's rather easy to notice, the author has hinted the readers that Mrs. Ansley must have had an important and forgetable event in Rome. (p.430)

Then the author describes Mrs.Slade bag "as discreetly opulent looking as Mrs. Ansley's". We questioned that why Mrs.Ansley, a small, pale, easily-colored person can possess such opulent a bag which is as grand and impressive as Mrs.Slade who was depicted at the beginning of the story as a woman who is" fuller, higher in color, with a small determined nose supported by vigorous eyebrows". Whether Mrs. Ansley is a meek, gentle person? If we read carefully enough we would notice that in the opening of the story (p.429) Mrs. Ansley "drew from her handsomely mounted black handbag a twist of crimson silk ..." The crimson silk, its color, of course and obviously not suitable for a meek, womanly like her. That kind of color stands for victories and the yearn for victories. We can infer, though not much surely, that Mrs. Ansley is a kind of person who like to be the winner.

Come back to the word "discreetly", we might probably feel that these two women have tried to keep up with each others inwardly. The readers would expect to learn more about the race triggered by the jealousy between them.

The author foreshadows more clearly as the story goes along. The scene when Mrs.Slade's gaze "turned toward the Colosseum" (middle of p.434) is so meaningful. Already the sky has losed its "golden flank" and begins to turn into the "purple shadow", which foreshadows the something is coming to the end for it, an evil and immoral unidentified thing, would show its whole face in a "crystal clear" way. The picture of the conjunction between the afternoon and the evening: "It was the moment when afternoon and evening hang balanced in mid-heaven" also signals that there will be the conjunction or the exchange of secrets, revenges or something between Mrs. Ansley and Mrs.Slade.

When Mrs. Salde said: "I was easily frightened because I was to happy. I wonder if you know what that means" followed by Mrs.Ansley faltering and Mrs. Slade's not explaining why she easily frightened when being too happy but coming back to the Roman Fever, Colosseum ..., the readers would feel somehow Mrs. Slade had commited a crime, an immoral act before her marriage so that she feared to lose that happiness. With the tale of Aunt Harriet, we can guess that something rather like the tale would did occur again and involved these two genteel women, two" intimate friends "!

After Mrs. Slade revealed her secret which much shocked Mrs.Ansley, the author conducts the readers to an small interlude describing the sky "emptied of all its gold, dusk spread over it,abrutly darkening the Seven Hills ". Though the natural atmosphere was dull, the there was "steps were coming and going on the terrace", waiters who began their work, "rearrange" tables and chair, "a feeble string of the electric lights flickered out" in the restaurant. However," the the corner where Mrs.Slade and Mrs.Ansley sat was still shadowy and deserted". That corner didn't have any light, even a "feeble" light to brighten and ease the tense, sorrow of the situation. The author wants to clue us that their "friendship" could never be as it had been or its furture, its ending would be as dark and full of dusk as the sky at that time.

I think that this story is best exemplified for the subtle plotting style of Edith Wharton by using the foreshadowing. It makes the story seem to be rather tedious with one who reads carelessly and interesting with one who can find out the hint, the figurative meaning of each word, each line of the author. The foreshadowing, in my opinion is very suitable for writing about the aristocracy for it can describe deeply the mean battles under the stable, polite and genteel facade between the upper-class people
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ROMAN FEVER

Plot Summary

The story opens with two middle-aged American ladies enjoying the view of Rome from the terrace of a restaurant. Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley have been lifelong friends, thrown into intimacy by circumstance rather than by true liking for each other. They first met as young ladies vacationing in Rome with their families, and they have lived for most of their adult lives across the street from each other in New York. Now, in the 1920s, they find themselves again in each other’s company. Both are spending the spring in Rome, accompanied by their daughters, Jenny Slade and Barbara Ansley respectively, who are roughly the same age. Jenny is safe and staid, unlike her mother. Barbara is vivid and dramatic, apparently unlike either of her parents.

When Jenny and Barbara leave to spend the day with Italian aviators, Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley wile away the afternoon on the terrace overlooking the ruins of the Forum and the Colosseum, chatting and remembering old times.

Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley have in some ways led parallel lives. Besides living in the same New York neighborhood, they both became widows at approximately the same time. Mrs. Slade, the widow of a corporate lawyer, finds her new life dull, without the excitement of entertaining and going on business trips. She believes that Mrs. Ansley cannot find life as dull, because her life has never seemed interesting in the first palce. In Mrs. Slade’s eyes, Mrs. Ansley and her husband represented “museum specimens of old New York.” However, Mrs. Ansley believes that Mrs. Slade must be disappointed with her life.

Toward the end of the afternoon, Mrs. Slade remembers how Mrs. Ansley became sick during the winter that they spent in Rome when they were young. Although at that time of year people no longer caught malaria, or Roman fever, the dampness and cold night temperatures could still make people quite sick. Mrs. Slade recalls how Mrs. Ansley became seriously ill after going to the Colosseum after sunset one evening. Mrs. Ansley seems to have a hard time remembering this event, but Mrs. Slade reminds her of the details.

Suddenly, Mrs. Slade, wanting to hurt her friend, bursts out that she must tell Mrs. Ansley that she knows why Mrs. Ansley went to the Colosseum that night. Mrs. Slade then recites the contents of a letter asking Grace [Mrs. Ansley] to meet Delphin Slade (then the fiance of Alida [Mrs. Slade]) at the Colosseum. When Mrs. Ansley wonders how Mrs. Slade could know the contents of the letter, Mrs. Slade confesses that she had written it. She had been afraid that Grace [Mrs. Ansley], who was in love with her fiance, would win Delphin away from her. She hoped that Grace would catch cold, and so be unable to be involved with Delphin for a few weeks until she (Alida/Mrs. Slade) could be more sure of Delphin’s affections. But she never thought that Grace would get so sick.

Mrs. Ansley is upset by the revelation because it represents the loss of a cherished memory; as she says, “It was the only letter I had, and you say he didn’t write it?” Mrs. Slade realizes that Mrs. Ansley still cares for Delphin, although Mrs. Ansley claims to cherish only the memory. Mrs. Slade says that she wishes she hadn’t told her friend about the letter, but she defends her actions by saying that she didn’t believe Grace (Mrs. Ansley) had taken Delphin so seriously, since, after all, Grace had married Mr. Ansley just two months later, as soon as she left her sick bed.

After a pause, Mrs. Slade says that she sent the letter as a joke; she remembers how she spent the evening laughing at her friend, waiting in the dark by the Colosseum. Mrs. Ansley surprises her companion by saying that she didn’t wait, that Delphin had arranged everything and that they were let into the Colosseum immediately. Mrs. Slade accuses Mrs. Ansley of lying, wondering how Delphin would know that Mrs. Ansley was waiting for him. Mrs. Ansley says that she answered the letter, and that she is sorry for Mrs. Slade because Delphin came to her that night. Mrs. Slade responds by saying that she doesn’t begrudge Mrs. Ansley one night; after all, she had Delphin for 25 years and Mrs. Ansley had only a letter that Delphin didn’t write. Mrs. Ansley has the final word: “I had Barbara.”

 

Characters

Barbara Ansley

Barbara Ansley is the brilliant and vivacious daughter of Mrs. Ansley. Barbara and her mother are vacationing in Rome with their neighbors, Mrs. Slade and her daughter Jenny Slade. Barabara and Jenny are away spending time with some Italian aviators during the story’s conversation between Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley. Mrs. Slade envies Mrs. Ansley for her brilliant daughter. During the course of this conversation, Mrs. Ansley reveals to Mrs. Slade that Barbara is the daughter of Mrs. Slade’s late husband, Delphin.

Grace Ansley

Mrs. Grace Ansley, a middle-aged widow, is a wealthy New Yorker who is vacationing in Italy with her daughter Barbara, and her neighbor Mrs. Slade, and her daughter Jenny Slade. In Mrs. Slade’s opinion, Mrs. Ansley has led a staid, uneventful life. Although she presents the picture of the proper middle-aged widow, for instance, knitting and looking at the Roman view, her calm exterior hides a secret past.

As a young lady in Italy, Grace (Mrs. Ansley) fell in love with Alida’s (Mrs. Slade’s) fiance, Delphin. However, after meeting him one night at the ruins of the Colosseum, she had become quite ill. When she rose from her sickbed, she immediately married Mr. Ansley.

Despite her marriage to Mr. Ansley, she has always nursed the memory of her evening with Delphin, and the letter he had sent her. When Mrs. Slade reveals that she, in fact, sent the letter, not Delphin, Mrs. Ansley’s fantasy is destroyed. She, in turn, reveals to her friend an even more devastating secret: that her dynamic daughter, who Mrs. Ansley has long noted is so different from either of her parents, is in fact Delphin’s daughter.

Alida Slade

Mrs. Alida Slade, a middle-aged, wealthy, New York widow, is vacationing in Italy with her daughter Jenny, her neighbor Mrs. Ansley, and her daughter Barbara Ansley. The wife of a famous corporate lawyer, Mrs. Slade found her married days filled with excitement and adventure. She prided herself on being a charming entertainer, a good hostess, and a vibrant woman in her own right. After the death of her husband Delphin, Mrs. Slade finds life dull, with only her daughter to divert her; however, Jenny is quiet and self-sufficient.

Mrs. Slade feels both superior to and envious of her lifelong friend, Mrs. Ansley. She also has been nursing a decades-long resentment against Mrs. Ansley, for falling in love with Delphin when Mrs. Ansley and Mrs. Slade were both young ladies on vacation in Italy. Afraid that Grace (Mrs. Ansley) would steal away her fiance, Alida (Mrs. Slade) sent Grace a note, signing Delphin’s name. When Grace went to meet Delphin, she became quite ill.

During this trip to Italy, Mrs. Slade, wanting to hurt her friend even after all these years, confesses to Mrs. Ansley that she, not Delphin, sent the letter. Mrs. Slade immediately regrets her action, and she can’t help but feel sorry for her friend, after she sees how Mrs. Ansley has cherished the memory of that letter. When Mrs. Slade expresses this feeling, however, Mrs. Ansley shocks her with the revelation that Barbara (the daughter of Mrs. Ansley) is Delphin’s daughter.

Delphin Slade

Although Delphin Slade is dead at the time the story takes place, he remains a prominent figure in the minds of both his wife and his former lover, Grace (Mrs. Ansley). The story hinges on his past actions. As a young man, while engaged to Alida (Mrs. Slade), Delphin met Grace at the Colosseum one night and fathered Barbara. This secret has been concealed from his wife for the past 25 years.

Jenny Slade

Jenny Slade is the quiet, staid, self-sufficient daughter of Mrs. Slade. She is accompanying her mother to Rome along with Mrs. Ansley and her daughter Barbara Ansley. Jenny and Barbara are away spending time with some Italian aviators during the story’s conversation between Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley.

Themes

Friendship

Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley have been friends since they first met as young women in Rome, when

Alida (Mrs. Slade) was engaged to Delphin Slade. This friendship forms the enduring tie between Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley. However, their friendship is undercut by the deeper, hostile feelings they have for each other, feelings that they hardly dare to admit. Because each has something to hide about the early days of their friendship, they have not been honest with each other in their friendship.

In addition, their friendship has not been very intimate, despite their similar backgrounds and close proximity to each other on same street in New York. Mrs. Slade, in particular, strongly dislikes Mrs. Ansley, because of Mrs. Ansley’s love for Delphin. She has made fun of Mrs. Ansley to their mutual friends, and she believes that Mrs. Ansley has led a much duller life than she and Delphin. At the same time, however, she cannot shake her envy of Mrs. Ansley. Mrs. Ansley, on the other hand, believes that “Alida Slade’s awfully brilliant; but not as brilliant as she thinks.” She also believes that Mrs. Slade must be disappointed with her life, alluding to undisclosed failures and mistakes.

The competitive nature of their friendship reaches a climax one afternoon in Rome. As Mrs. Slade views the ruins of the Colosseum in Rome, she cannot help but remember the anger she felt at Grace’s (Mrs. Ansley’s) love at the time for her fiance. She confesses, after 25 years, that she had lured Grace to the Colosseum by forging a note from Delphin. Mrs. Ansley’s repsonse to this confession that Barbara is Delphin’s child completely alters the relationship between the women.

Rivalry

Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley have been rivals throughout their long friendship. Sometimes this rivalry is expressed subtly, as when Mrs. Ansley says that the view upon the Palatine ruins will always be the most beautiful view in the world “to me,” as if she alone is privy to the glories of Rome. Sometimes the rivalry is expressed directly through the women’s thoughts. For example, Mrs. Slade compares herself directly to Mrs. Ansley. She believes that her widowhood is more difficult than Mrs. Ansley’s widowhood, for she had led a full, active life as the wife of an international corporate lawyer, while Mrs. Ansley and her husband were more of “museum specimens of old New York,” or in even less kind terms, “nullities.” Mrs. Slade also admits to envying her friend, a habit that she developed long ago.

The cause of this barely acknowledged rivalry becomes clear as the story develops. Mrs. Slade has never gotten over the fact that Grace (Mrs. Ansley) had fallen in love with her fiance Delphin Slade, and had gone to the Colosseum to meet him.

The rivalry between these women runs very deep. At one point, Mrs. Slade implies a desire for her friend’s death. When she brings up their past adventures in Rome, she refers to Mrs. Ansley’s great aunt, a woman who sent her sister to the Forum because they were in love with the same man — the sister caught malaria that night and died.

Love and Passion

Mrs. Slade considers herself more dramatic and passionate than Mrs. Ansley. She believes that she had contributed as much as her husband to “the making of the exceptional couple they were.” She also values the quality of being dynamic, and admits that she has “always wanted a brilliant daughter.” However, neither Mrs. Slade’s words nor her actions seem to reveal great depths of love or passion she felt for her husband or her daughter. Her greatest passion seems to have been for her late son, whose death made her feel “agony.” But she blocks out this feeling, because the “thought of the boy had become unbearable.” Finally, the life that Mrs. Slade now leads seems to be one of order, even if she does not embrace such order.

Ironically, Mrs. Ansley emerges as the more passionate of the two women. Although she seems to be involved in more mundane activities, such as knitting and playing bridge, her revelation of the night that she spent with Delphin at the Colosseum demonstrates that she is capable of hidden depths of passion. Living across the street from Delphin for twenty-five years and raising his child suggest that she is capable of enduring love as well.

Style

Setting

“Roman Fever” is set in Rome, Italy, around the mid-1920s. On the one hand, the ruins of Rome become the focus of Wharton’s skill at descriptive writing. On the other hand, the ruins of Rome remind both women of an earlier time spent in Rome together when their friendship and rivalry both began. More generally Wharton shows the kind of life a woman of independent means could lead in Rome at that time.

The setting of Rome is contrasted with the home neighborhood of the two women on Manhattan’s East Side in New York. Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley have lived across the street from each other so close that each woman knows all the mundane details of the other’s everyday life. But this setting is too confining to allow them to communicate their true feelings. It is only in Rome that Mrs. Slade feels able to reveal the truth to Mrs. Ansley.

Point of View

The story is told from a third-person, omniscient point of view. This means that readers see and hear what the characters see and hear, and that readers are also privy to their thoughts. However, in this case, the interior life, motivations, and reactions of Mrs. Slade are revealed to a greater extent than those of Mrs. Ansley’s. For example, readers know that Mrs. Slade decides to tell the truth about the letter Delphin was supposed to have written 25 years ago because she is envious of her rival and dislikes her, though at the same time she believes she is a good person. Readers also know that she regrets her words after she has said them. On the other hand, not much is revealed about Mrs. Ansley’s motivation. Readers do not know, for instance, why Mrs. Ansley decides to reveal the truth about Barbara’s parentage.

Structure

Although the story is relatively brief, it is divided into two sections. The first section provides the background and history of Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley. The second section develops the theme of the rivalry between the two women, concluding with the truth about Barbara’s parentage. The two parts also represent the past and the present.

In the first part of the story, Mrs. Slade notes Mrs. Ansley’s odd emphasis on the personal pronoun me when she talks about the view of Rome from the terrace. She also notes Mrs. Ansley’s emphasis on the personal pronoun / when she says “I remember” in response to Mrs. Slade’s comment about the summer they spent in Rome as girls. Although Mrs. Slade attributes this emphasis to Mrs. Ansley’s being old-fashioned, the emphasis really alludes to Mrs. Ansley’s fond memories of the time she spent with Delphin.

In the second part of the story, Mrs. Slade’s musings show that she is gearing up toward something more significant than a simple conversation about malaria. At one point, she watches Mrs. Ansley knitting and thinks, “She can knit — in the face of this!” The reader wonders what thisrefers to, since up to this point the women are simply having a casual conversation about the past.

Symbolism and Imagery

Wharton makes use of a number of symbols and images to reinforce the emotions of the story. The ruins that the two women are gazing at of the Palatine, the Forum, and the Colosseum symbolize the ruins of these women’s perceptions of themselves and each other. Mrs. Ansley calmly knits, which would seem to be the staid activity of a middle-aged woman, but what she is knitting is described as “a twist of crimson silk.” Her knitting can be said to represent the passionate and more frivolous side of her nature. Also, the women’s actions can be viewed symbolically, to indicate their feelings toward the conversation and each other. As soon as Mrs. Slade starts to talk about their shared past, Mrs. Ansley lifts her knitting “a little closer to her eyes,” thus shielding herself and her reactions from Mrs. Slade. However, when Mrs. Slade learns that Mrs. Ansley did meet Delphin at the Colosseum, it is Mrs. Slade who must cover her face and hide her deepest emotions. In fact, by the end of the story, the power structure has changed, as shown by Mrs. Ansley’s actions. After revealing the truth about Barbara’s father, she “began to move ahead of Mrs. Slade toward the stairway.”

 

Plot Summary 
By Michael J. Cummings...© 2008

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.......From the terrace of a Roman restaurant, two middle-aged women gaze down on the splendor of Rome and its ancient ruins. The narrator describes one of the women as small and pale and the other “fuller” and “higher in color.” On the stairway leading to a courtyard below, two young girls hasten off to an adventure. The women overhear one of them saying, “Well, come along, then, and let’s leave the young things to their knitting.” 
.......The pale woman, Mrs. Horace (Grace) Ansley, recognizes the voice as that of her daughter, Barbara. The other woman, Mrs. Delphin (Alida) Slade, says, “That’s what our daughters think of us.” 
.......Mrs. Ansley says the girls were really speaking of mothers in general, but then she withdraws from a handbag some red silk pierced with two knitting needles, confessing that she sometimes tires of doing nothing but looking at the sights. Alida laughs.  
.......It is late afternoon, long past the lunch hour, and the last of the other diners have moved on. But Alida suggests that they remain on the terrace to enjoy the view. They met at the restaurant in their youth, when both were younger than their daughters are now. Mrs. Slade asks the head waiter to grant them permission to linger on the terrace, providing him a gratuity, and he says they may stay as long as they like–perhaps to eat dinner later on under the moonlight. 
.......“Well, why not!” Mrs. Slade says. We might do worse. There's no knowing, I suppose, when the girls will be back. Do you even know back from where? I don't!" 
.......Mrs. Ansley says she thinks they are with Italian aviators they met at the embassy. The young men invited the girls to fly with them to Tarquinia for tea. 
.......When Alida Slade asks her companion whether she thinks the girls are sentimental, Grace says she hasn’t the slightest idea “what they are,” adding that “perhaps we don’t know much more about each other.” They muse for a while on their limited knowledge of each other even though they have known each other for a long time.  
.......Alida Slade recalls how beautiful Grace was as a girl, more beautiful than her daughter, Barbara, is now. Barbara, however, has “more edge,” Alida thinks, wondering where she got it. After all, Barbara was the offspring of “nullities . . . museum specimens of old New York,” Alida observes to herself. For years, the Slades and the Ansleys were neighbors on East Seventy-Third Street in New York. Then came the year when Horace Ansley and Delphin Slade died only months apart. The two women commiserated with each other.  
.......“[A]nd now, after another interval," the narrator says, "they had run across each other in Rome, at the same hotel, each of them the modest appendage of a salient daughter." 
.......Mrs. Slade admits to herself that the loss of her husband was a social setback. As the wife of a corporation lawyer with international clients, she had entertained and traveled often, receiving compliments on her looks and her fashions. Now, she has only her daughter, Jenny. There was a son, full of promise, but he died very young.  
Alida wants to mother Jenny. But Jenny, a very pretty young lady, is so perfect in every way that she needs no mothering. It is Jenny who watches out for her mother.  
.......And what does Grace think of Alida? That she is “awfully brilliant, but not as brilliant as she thinks.” But she has a “vividness” lacking in Jenny. However, Grace feels sorry for Alida, for she has had a “sad life” with many “failures and mistakes.” 
.......Bells ring. It is five o’clock. Grace takes out her knitting as Alida observes that Rome means different things to different generations: 

To our grandmothers, Roman fever; to our mothers, sentimental dangers—how we used to be guarded!—to our daughters, no more dangers than the middle of Main Street. . . . [O]ur mothers had a much more difficult job than our grandmothers. When Roman fever stalked the streets it must have been comparatively easy to gather in the girls at the danger hour; but when you and I were young, with such beauty calling us, and the spice of disobedience thrown in, and no worse risk than catching cold during the cool hour after sunset, the mothers used to be put to it to keep us in—didn't they! 

.......Engrossed in her knitting, Grace answers yes perfunctorily between stitches, as if she is really not that interested in Alida's observation. Her attitude annoys Alida, who then shifts her thoughts to her companion’s daughter. Barbara is out to snare one of the fliers, a marchese, Alida thinks, and her poor Jenny cannot compete with her. Perhaps Jenny’s inability to compete is the reason that Grace Ansley wants Barbara to befriend Jenny—Barbara will always stand out in comparison. 
.......“That Campolieri boy is one of the best matches in Rome,” she tells Grace, then compliments Barbara as being “dynamic.” 
.......“I think you overrate Babs, my dear,” Grace says. 
.......Her companion then compliments Babs on her intelligence and notes that the thought of their daughters and the young men in a romantic setting by the sea evokes memories of the past “too acutely.” Alida imagines that Grace is thinking that Babs will return engaged to Campolieri. She also imagines that Grace will sell her New York home and move to Rome to be near her daughter. However, she then reproaches herself for such thoughts, thinking she has no right to think unkindly of Grace. 
.......As the sun sets, Alida reminds her friend of her delicate throat. The evening chill could cause her to come down with Roman fever or pneumonia. But Grace says, "Oh, we're all right up here. Down below, in the Forum, it does get deathly cold, all of a sudden... but not here." 
.......Alida says whenever she looks at the Forum, it reminds her of the story about her friend’s “dreadfully wicked great-aunt.” 
.......“Oh, yes; Great-aunt Harriet,” Grace recalls. 
.......It seems that Harriet supposedly sent her sister one evening to pick a certain flower in the forum so that Harriet could save it in her collection of dried flowers. But her real motive in sending her out was to expose her to Roman fever, for she and her sister were in love with the same man. The girl caught it and died. So says the story handed down. Alida says she became frightened when Grace told her the story “that winter when you and I were here as girls. The Winter I was engaged to Delphin.”  
.......Alida also reminds Grace about her own visit to some ruins one chilly evening. Afterward, she became ill for a while but thankfully she got well. When Grace asks why Alida brought up the story, Alida says she can no longer bear keeping to herself the fact that she always knew why her friend went out that night—to go to the Colosseum to meet Delphin, the man Alida was engaged to.  
......."And I can repeat every word of the letter that took you there." 
.......Shaken, Grace rises, letting her knitting and gloves fall from her lap. Alida then repeats words from the letter, which she had memorized. Grace, regaining her composure, says, “I know it by heart too.” However, she says she burned the letter immediately and wonders how Alida found out about it. 
......."Well, my dear, I know what was in that letter because I wrote it!" 
.......Grace sits back down. Tears streak her face as she says, “[I]t was the only letter I ever had from him!” 
.......Alida says she hated Grace because she knew she was in love with Delphin. Filled with envy, she wanted Grace out of the way. 
.......“Just for a few weeks; just till I was sure of him.”  
.......So she wrote the letter. Now, she says, she can’t explain why she’s telling Grace about this incident. The latter concludes, “[I]t's because you've always gone on hating me." Either that, says Alida, or “I wanted to get the whole thing off my mind . . . Of course, I never thought you’d die.” 
.......Alida feels a bit remorseful for a moment, but her animosity returns when she considers that Grace harbored secret love for her husband over the years and “had been living on that letter." 
......."You tried your best to get him away from me, didn't you? But you failed; and I kept him. That's all," Alida says. 
.......After recovering from her illness, Grace married Horace Ansley in Florence, leading Alida to believe at that time that she never really cared for Delphin. 
.......Alida then says she wrote the letter as a joke and took pleasure in picturing Grace waiting alone in the darkness for someone who would never come. 
.......“Of course I was upset when I heard you were so ill afterward,” Alida says. But Grace tells her she did not have to wait. Delphin was there. Alida does not believe her. But Grace say he was indeed there because she answered the letter. 
.......“Oh, God—you answered! I never thought of your answering...." 
.......It is now cold on the terrace. Grace gets up and wraps her fur scarf around her.  
.......“We'd better go.... I'm sorry for you,” she says. 
.......Getting up to leave, Alida acknowledges that Grace got the better of her that night long ago, but she adds that she herself came out better in the long run.  
.......“After all, I had everything; I had him [Delphin] for twenty-five years. And you had nothing but that one letter that he didn't write." 
.......Grace moved toward the terrace door, then turned around and said, “I had Barbara.”  

Settings

.......The action takes place in the afternoon and evening on the terrace of a Roman restaurant with a view of the Forum, the Colosseum, and other sights. Although no scenes take place elsewhere, the narration refers to activities in Tarquinia, a small town about fifty miles northwest of Rome, and to events that took place years before in New York City. 

Characters

Alida Slade: Middle-aged widow of Delphin Slade, a corporation lawyer. While she is dining in Rome with her old friend, Grace Ansley, the narrator reveals that she really despises Grace, who once was intimate with Delphin before he married Alida.  
Delphin Slade: Late husband of Alida. 
Grace Ansley: Middle-aged widow of well-to-do Horace Ansley. When Alida Slade reveals her long-simmering enmity for Grace, the latter counters with a shocking revelation.  
Horace Ansley: Late husband of Grace. 
Barbara Ansley: Vivacious daughter of Grace Ansley. Alida Slade resents her because of her obvious superiority to her own daughter. The last sentence in the story reveals that Barbara is really the daughter of Delphin. 
Jenny Slade: Daughter of Alida Slade. She is beautiful but lacks the charisma and charm of Barbara Ansley. 
Headwaiter: Supervising waiter at the terrace restaurant overlooking the Roman Forum, the Colosseum, and other ancient ruins. After receiving a gratuity from Alida Slade, he invites Alida and Grace to remain at the restaurant to enjoy the view. 
Son of Alida Slade: Child who "inherited his father's gifts," according to Alida, but died while still a boy.  
Harriet: Deceased great-aunt of Grace. According to a story handed down, Harriet and her sister loved the same man. To get rid of her sister, Harriet supposedly tricked her into exposing herself to Roman fever. She later died of the disease.

Type of Work and Year of Publication

“Roman Fever" is a short story centering on the relationship of two women. The story has a surprise ending. It first appeared in Libertymagazine in 1934. 

Narration

Wharton wrote the story in omniscient third-person point of view, enabling her to reveal the thoughts of the two main characters. 

Plotting

.......Wharton’s plot is like a house of cards. Every card supports the structure; remove one and the house collapses.  
.......The opening scene in which their daughters, Barbara and Jenny, run off to meet young men triggers Mrs. Slade’s memories of her and Mrs. Ansley’s romantic adventures in Rome twenty-five years before. Mrs. Slade recalls that Mrs. Ansley was more beautiful then than Barbara Ansley is now. However, she notes to herself that Barbara is more vivacious; she has “edge.” How could this be? After all, Mrs. Slade thinks, Barbara is the offspring of “nullities. . . museum specimens of old New York.” Her observation introduces the secret rancor she feels toward her companion and foreshadows ever so obliquely the ironic ending. Moreover, the reference to New York enables the author to shift the scene—in Mrs. Slade’s mind—to Manhattan, where they were neighbors in an upscale neighborhood. In turn, the thoughts of Manhattan call up memories of the women’s lives there and the deaths of their husbands, Delphin Slade and Horace Ansley. .......Mrs. Slade then recalls the effect of her husband’s death on her social life. And so the story goes, with one thought or one line of dialogue linking the plot to the next development—until Mrs. Slade reveals her knowledge of Mrs. Ansley’s nighttime visit to the Colosseum twenty-five years before to rendezvous with Mrs. Slade’s fiancé, a revelation that leads Mrs. Ansley to reveal her own secrets about that night.  
.......Perhaps the one flaw in the plot is the contrived chance meeting of Alida Slade and Grace Ansley at the same restaurant of the same hotel in Rome. 

Climax

.......The climax occurs when Mrs. Slade reveals what she knows about Mrs. Ansley’s late-night excursion to the Colosseum twenty-five years before to rendezvous with Mrs. Slade’s fiancé, Delphin. Some readers may regard the shocking denouement (conclusion) of the story—revealing that Mrs. Ansley’s daughter is the child of Mrs. Slade’s late husband—as the climax. 

Symbols

Roman Fever: Grace's desire for Delphin; the ill will that poisons Alida against Grace. (See also the entries under Roman Fever and Its Significance, below.)  
Grace's Knitting: The troubled, intertwining lives of Alida and Grace. Grace knits the pattern of their lives with crimson silk, symbolizing the passionate feelings of the two women. When Grace drops the knitting, the knitting symbolizes the wreckage of Grace and Alida's relationship. 
The Ancient Ruins: Perhaps the crumbling relationship between Alida and Grace. 
Afternoon Light: The last hours of cordiality that Alida and Grace show for each other on the terrace of the restaurant. 
Evening Darkness: The entry of Alida and Grace into each other's dark secrets.

Roman Fever and Its Significance 

Definition

.......The term Roman fever was coined to describe malaria, outbreaks of which occurred frequently in Rome over the centuries. The city was a hotbed of the disease because of the swampy areas in it that became breeding grounds for mosquitoes carrying disease-causing parasites. The term malaria itself derives from the Italian words mala aria, meaning bad air. Malaria is an infectious disease caused by a single-celled parasite that enters the bloodstream primarily via the bite of the female anopheles mosquito. The parasite invades the liver and divides. Then the new, smaller parasitic cells enter the body’s red blood cells and produce so many additional parasitic cells that the red blood cells rupture and discharge whole armies of parasites into the bloodstream. The body reacts with chills, high fever, shaking, and sweating. When the sweating lowers the body’s temperature, the symptoms subside. However, renewed attacks by the multiplying parasites cause a reoccurrence of the symptoms, and the cycle repeats itself again and again. Severe anemia (in which there is a significant reduction in the number of the body’s red blood cells) eventually develops, leading to serious complications that can kill the patient. Eventually, drugs were developed that halt the multiplication of the parasitic cells.

Symbolic Meaning

.......In Wharton's story, Roman fever symbolizes the passion that drives the plot. This passion manifests itself in the Colosseum tryst between Grace Ansley and Delphin Slade and in Alida Slade's long-suppressed enmity for Grace and jealousy of Grace's daughter. 

Grace and Alida as Victims of Roman Fever

.......Grace developed Roman fever figuratively when she burned with love for Alida's fiancé, Delphin. Alida developed the fever figuratively when Grace's love for Delphin fired her with enmity for Grace and a desire to get even by writing the letter. Alida later suffered from complications of the fever when she became intensely jealous of Grace's daughter. Roman fever simmers secretly within both women for the next twenty-five years.  

Themes 

Destructive Passion

.......Intense passion in the forms of love, fear, vengefulness, enmity, and jealousy poisons the relationship between Alida Slade and Grace Ansley. First, Grace falls in love with Alida’s fiancé, Delphin. Out of fear of losing Delphin and out of a desire for revenge, Alida executes a plot exposing Grace to an evening chill that sickens her and isolates her from Delphin. For the next twenty-five years, Alida seethes with enmity for Grace while pretending to be her friend. She also develops intense jealousy of Grace’s daughter, Barbara, because of her obvious superiority to her own daughter, Jenny. Meanwhile, Grace endures life with Horace while Delphin—who fathered her child—lives nearby as the husband of Alida. 

Social Status

.......It appears that Alida Slade's happiness when Delphin was alive centered primarily on the social advantages she derived from being his wife, not on love. The following passage reveals her attitude in this regard: 

It was a big drop from being the wife of Delphin Slade to being his widow. She had always regarded herself (with a certain conjugal pride) as his equal in social gifts, as contributing her full share to the making of the exceptional couple they were: but the difference after his death was irremediable. As the wife of the famous corporation lawyer, always with an international case or two on hand, every day brought its exciting and unexpected obligation: the impromptu entertaining of eminent colleagues from abroad, the hurried dashes on legal business to London, Paris or Rome, where the entertaining was so handsomely reciprocated; the amusement of hearing in her wakes: "What, that handsome woman with the good clothes and the eyes is Mrs. Slade—the Slade's wife! Really! Generally the wives of celebrities are such frumps."

Deceit

.......Alida Slade forges a letter to lure Grace Ansley to the Colosseum. Then, for the next twenty-five years, she pretends to be Grace's friend. Alida's behavior calls to mind Shakespeare's observation in The Merchant of Venice: "A goodly apple rotten at the heart: / O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!" (1. 3. 80-84). It also calls to mind words in his play Macbeth: "Away, and mock the time with fairest show: / False face must hide what the false heart doth know” (1. 7. 94-95)." The narrator does not disclose whether Grace had deceived Horace into believing that Barbara was his child, although Grace allows Alida to believe so until the latter provokes her. 

The Ever-Present Past

.......The past haunts Alida; it is always there to roil her emotions and embitter her against Grace. When Alida can no longer contain her corrosive memories of long ago, she reveals them to Grace—perhaps in an attempt to exorcise her demons and transfer them to Grace. But Grace counters with revelations of her own, one of which promises to make the painful past an unwelcome companion of Alida for the rest of her life. 

Irony

.......Irony is a powerful figure of speech in the story, especially its occurrence in the last sentence. Other examples of irony in the story build up to, and rely on, that sentence for effect. An example is this observation of Alida Slade regarding Barbara: "I was wondering, ever so respectfully, you understand... wondering how two such exemplary characters as you and Horace had managed to produce anything quite so dynamic [as Barbara]." 

Is the Mothers' Past the Children's Future?

.......Wharton hints at the possibility that Barbara Ansley and Jenny Slade will repeat the actions of their mothers. She does so by creating the following parallels between Grace's daughter and Alida and between Alida's daughter and Grace: 
1. Both girls are receiving the attentions of young men, as their mothers did twenty-five years before. 
2. One of the girls, Barbara, is vivacious and very smart, as Alida was. 
3. The other girl, Jenny, is very beautiful but otherwise ordinary, as Grace was. 
4. Barbara is likely to become the fiancée of a promising bachelor, according to Alida. She muses that "Babs would almost certainly come back engaged to the extremely eligible Campolieri." Twenty-five years before, Alida herself was engaged to a promising bachelor. 
.......Add to these parallels this circumstance: As daughters of Delphin Slade, Barbara and Jenny are half-sisters. This fact is significant in relation to the story about Grace's Great-Aunt Harriet. While competing for a man with her own sister, she deliberately tricked the girl into exposing herself to Roman fever.  
.......One may speculate that Wharton must have created all these similarities for a reason—namely, to suggest that circumstances are right for the past to repeat itself.  

Study Questions and Essay Topics

1. Why didn't Grace publicly acknowledge her love for Delphin and force him to choose between her and Alida? 
2. Do you believe Grace told Delphin about her pregnancy? 
3. Do you believe Grace told Horace that he was not Barbara's biological father? 
4. Do you believe Grace told Barbara that she was Jenny's biological half-sister?  
5. What is the meaning of the underlined words in the following paragraph from the story:

Yes; being the Slade's widow was a dullish business after that. In living up to such a husband all her [Alida's] faculties had been engaged; now she had only her daughter to live up to, for the son who seemed to have inherited his father's gifts had died suddenly in boyhood. She had fought through that agony because her husband was there, to be helped and to help; now, after the father's death, the thought of the boy had become unbearable. 

6. Write an essay that compares and contrasts the psyches of Alida Slade and Grace Ansley. 
7. Write an essay explaining the extent to which Edith Wharton drew upon her own experiences when she wrote "Roman Fever." 

"Roman Fever" is among Edith Wharton's last writings and caps off her noteworthy career. "Roman Fever" was first published in Libertymagazine in 1934, and it was included in Wharton's final collection of short stories, The World Over, in 1936. Several reviewers of this final collection from newspapers and magazines throughout the nation called special attention to "Roman Fever." Since then, however, the story has received little critical attention. The few critics who have written about the story describe it as artistic, complex, and reflective of Wharton's moral landscape.

"Roman Fever," however, is frequently included in anthologies, both of Wharton's work and of American literature, and this may be a better indicator of its value as worthwhile literature than its critical history is. The story, at first, seems to be little more than a tale about the nostalgic remembrances of two middle-aged women revisiting Rome. Yet the tone of both the outer and inner dialogue shows a deep-felt animosity between the two women. The more outgoing Mrs. Slade is envious of Mrs. Ansley's vivacious daughter and jealous of her past love for Mrs. Slade's husband. The final sentence of the story reveals that Mrs. Slade has a valid reason for her feelings of competition with Mrs. Ansley though she only learns of it after years of ill-feeling. Some readers may find this final sentence to be a trick ending, on par with those of Saki or O. Henry. But a close reading of "Roman Fever" shows that Wharton carefully crafted her story to lead up to that exact moment of truth. Wharton's fine construction indeed makes "Roman Fever" one of her greater works of short fiction.

Interpreting Edith Wharton's "Roman Fever" Definitive criteria for judging the success or failure of a work of fiction are not easily agreed upon; individuals almost necessarily introduce bias into any such attempt. Only those who affect an exorbitantly refined artistic taste, however, would deny the importance of poignancy in literary pieces. To be sure, writings of dubious and fleeting merit frequently enchant the public, but there is too the occasional author who garners widespread acclaim and whose works remain deeply affecting despite the passage of time. The continued eminence of the fiction of Edith Wharton attests to her placement into such a category of authors: it is a recognition of her propensity to create poignant and,

indeed, successful literature. The brevity of her "Roman Fever" allows for a brilliant display of this talent?in it we find many of her highly celebrated qualities in the space of just a few pages. "Roman Fever" is truly outstanding: a work that exposes the gender stereotypes of its day (1936) but that moves beyond documentary to reveal something of the perennial antagonisms of human nature. From the story's first sentence, upon the introduction of two women of "ripe but well-cared-for middle age," it becomes clear that stereotypes are at issue (Wharton 1116). This mild description evokes immediate images of demure and supportive wives, their husbands' wards. Neither woman is without her "handsomely mounted black handbag," and it is not until several paragraphs into the piece that Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley even acquire first names (1117). Thus, without even disclosing any of the ladies' thoughts to the reader, Wharton has already revealed a great deal of their personal worlds. They live in a society which expects women to act largely as background figures, thoroughly engaged with furthering their husbands' careers and the constant struggle to remain pretty. Indeed, little else is desired or even tolerated?and Grace Ansley and Alida Slade appear, at first glance, to conform to this image perfectly. As the workings of the characters' minds are revealed, the extent to which they have internalized these values becomes apparent. Each, in their brief description of the other, mentions that her acquaintance was quite beautiful in her youth. Alida recalls how much she enjoyed having been married to a famous lawyer; she misses being "the Slade's wife" (1119). Startlingly, now that their husbands are dead, we find that the women consider themselves to be in a state of "unemployment" (1118)! But just as it begins to seem as if these women have wholly adopted their societally prescribed personas, one begins to see deviations from the stereotype. "Alida Slade's awfully brilliant; but not as brilliant as she thinks," decides Mrs. Ansley (1119). One had begun to expect these "ripe but well-cared-for" women capable only of suitably "feminine" mediocrities, but this comment reveals an insightful intellect hidden beneath the personality's surface. Mrs. Slade, worrying that Mrs. Ansley's daughter "would almost certainly come back engaged to the extremely eligible Campolieri," and concerned that her own daughter may be serving "as a foil" for the young Ansley's beauty, reveals the grim seriousness with which a woman was forced to take marriage (1121, 1120). One begins to realize the lengths to which females put themselves in order to conform to a decidedly cartoonish gender role as Wharton begins to expose the shortcomings and paradoxes of this sexual stereotype. The story's climax?Mrs. Slade's confession of forgery and Mrs. Ansley's shocking announcement?delivers the coup de grace to society's outmoded impositions upon females. The myth of sedate and subservient women is exploded as one realizes them fully possessed of those traits previously held to be the exclusive property of men: cunning, ruthlessness, and deceit. Wharton's story is groundbreaking in its presentation of two female characters who are not defined, first and foremost, by their sex, but by their species. "Roman Fever" allows its women to be human, but, alas, all too human. Here, however, is the reason behind the piece's continued success. Not content with simply an expose of the tribulations of her times, the author has infused the story with an ageless significance. Grace and Alida, the two ladies who "had live opposite each other?actually as well as figuratively?for years," serve also as symbols of the ongoing conflict between those two fundamental divisions of the human psyche: introversion and extroversion (1118). Alida Slade, the "fuller and higher in color" of the two, is outgoing and excitement loving, a classic extrovert (1117). Few social nuances escape her notice, and she always looked forward, when married, to "the impromptu entertaining of eminent colleagues from abroad" (1119). She finds life as a widow so dull that she wishes her daughter would fall in love, "with the wrong man, even," simply so "that she might have to be watched, out-maneuvered, rescued" (1119). Grace Ansley, "the smaller and paler one," on the other hand, is a much more solitary, introverted figure (1117). She is "less articulate than her friend," and her lack of overconcern for others can be seen in her "mental portrait[s]," which are "slighter, and drawn with fainter touches" than Mrs. Slade's (1119). Indeed, she is sufficiently withdrawn into her thoughts that even as Mrs. Slade begins to steer the conversation to a discussion of that fateful night when Mrs. Ansley went to the Colloseum, we find that "the latter had reached a delicate point in her knitting." "One, two, three?slip two," is her only initial comment (1120). Wharton's treatment of this theme is fascinating and insightful. We find that Mrs. Slade, despite her dismissal of Mrs. Ansley as "tame and estimable," chides herself for the fact that she will "never cure herself of envying her" (1118, 1121). Mrs. Ansley, furthermore, regards Alida's life as "full of failures and mistakes" (1119). Mrs. Slade has imagined for years that her letter-forging scheme successfully removed Mrs. Ansley from competition for Delphin, but we find that, in reality, in backfired upon her in the worst of all possible ways. Ultimately it is Grace Ansley, the more reserved of the two, who has the last word and who suffers the smallest defeat. The author's interpretation of the conflict between outgoing and solitary personalities amounts to the defusing of another myth. Mrs. Slade, precisely because of her gregarious nature, is wholly dependent on society to find enjoyment in life. Alone and in her middle age, she is constantly observing others to glean their view of her. Despite her self-confident ways, she is trapped within the traditions of society and is thus the more conventional of the two. Mrs. Ansley is revealed as a character who has become self-dependent and able to overcome societal pressures. Grace, with her knitting needles and quiet demeanor, establishes the introvert as the more radical character. "Roman Fever," then, is a work deserving of its place among acclaimed literature. Its brevity, rather than stifling artistry, serves instead to showcase the skill of an adept author. It is a multifaceted story and will doubtless continue to be enjoyed by future generations. Works Cited Wharton, Edith. "Roman Fever." 1936. The Heath Anthology of American Literature. Ed. Paul Lauter, et al. 2nd ed. Vol. 1. Lexington: Heath, 1994. 1116-1125.

 

Analysis of Plot in Roman Fever

By Philip Devitt

      Edith Wharton’s Roman Fever develops plot in an interesting way. We see the present situation unfold through the internal dialogue of Alida Slade and Grace Ansley, and the tension that mounts between them. But Wharton also weaves in the past actions of the two friends, showing the years of insecurity, jealousy, and secrecy that lead to their revelations.
      Alida and Grace spend the entire story sitting on a restaurant terrace overlooking the hills of a Roman village. It has been years since they have seen each other, but there is a building tension between them, subtle at first. When they discuss their daughters’ lives and the romanticism of moonlight, they realize how little they know about each other. We soon see that this tension has always existed between the supposedly intimate friends, as they sit in silence, each reflecting on their view of the other.
      Alida has always been envious of Grace. They both come from the same social class and had successful husbands, but to Alida, Grace always had something she didn’t. She called Grace and Horace irreproachable and entertained herself with the thought of them being raided. Even in her youth, Alida was jealous of Grace. The letter she forged from Delphin urging Grace to meet him at the Coliseum was motivated solely by her insecurity about her relationship.  
      Long after being widowed, Alida finds herself envious of Grace for new, but similar reasons. She doesn’t like that Grace’s daughter Barbara is more assertive when it comes to men. She wishes that her daughter, Jenny, would fall in love and lead an exciting life, but she knows that Barbara will be the one who marries a wealthy man. Alida despises Grace's contentment with life as she quietly knits. Alida still clings to the prominence she had when her husband was alive, while Grace has learned to accept her new life.
      Grace’s reflection on Alida is much less detailed, but we see that she pities her and feels her life was "full of failures and mistakes." The first part of the story then concludes in a significant way, when we learn Grace has always felt sorry for Alida. At the time, we don’t know what exactly she is sorry for, but it foreshadows the twist in the plot to come.
      When the second part of the story begins, the present plot seems more defined now that we have been introduced to the past. The tension continues to build between Alida and Grace, and Alida becomes increasingly uncomfortable. It is obvious she still envies Grace, and she is in conflict with herself over whether she should tell her she wrote the letter. She says she "must make one more effort not to hate her." By revealing to her that Delphin never wrote the letter, and reminding her she could never have him, she could feel superior to her. For once, she could make Grace envy her.
     At this point in the plot, suspense is at its highest. We are left wondering for several minutes what "effort" Alida will make not to hate Grace, and as she reminds her of the story of her great-aunt, the tension between them reaches its breaking point. Alida says she can’t bear it any longer and confesses the truth to Grace. This moment builds in the present plot, but it is propelled by the events of the past.
      Alida makes her revelation thinking it will devastate Grace and shake her life to the core. To think for many years that the letter was from him, when in fact he never wrote it, was sure to take away from Grace’s happiness, Alida thought. But Grace’s revelation that Delphin responded delivers a blow to Alida instead.
      As Alida becomes dumbfounded by Grace’s response, Grace becomes the more dominant and assertive of the two. Eventually, she builds up the confidence to suggest Barbara resulted from her fling with Delphin.
      After many years apart, it seems a strange coincidence the two women would meet at the same place and time. But the improbability of this meeting does not hinder the plot. The setting is meaningful to them both-- a place filled with memories and simpler times, so it isn’t surprising they would meet there, of all places. If the setting had been somewhere such as a circus or the middle of the desert, their meeting would be a bit more random and hard to believe. But their history in Rome makes it conceivable. If anything, the setting propels the plot to pick up pace. The views of the Palatine and the Coliseums intensify Alida’s jealousy and rage, and the unbearable tension leads her to confess.
      Wharton’s inclusion of the past plot interspersed between the events of the present plot is an effective way to make the climax compelling. There isn’t one thing in the story that doesn’t have a purpose, as everything the ladies say to each other and feel about each other, tie in with the events of the past.
      But the surprise ending revealed by Grace in the last line leaves us with an indeterminate ending. Grace does not clearly state that Barbara is her daughter with Delphin, but it opens up the possibility. For many years, knowing Delphin was the one thing Grace could never have was what kept Alida from completely hating her. This irresolution leaves us wondering not only how far their relationship really went, but what effects it will have on Alida now that she knows the truth.