原文：

Arthur sat in the library of the theological seminary at Pisa, looking through a pile of manuscript sermons. It was a hot evening in June, and the windows stood wide open, with the shutters half closed for coolness. The Father Director, Canon Montanelli, paused a moment in his writing to glance lovingly at the black head bent over the papers.

Montanelli's voice was rather low, but full and resonant, with a silvery purity of tone that gave to his speech a peculiar charm. It was the voice of a born orator, rich in possible modulations. When he spoke to Arthur its note was always that of a caress.

"No, Padre, I must find it; I'm sure you put it here. You will never make it the same by rewriting."

Montanelli went on with his work. A sleepy cockchafer hummed drowsily outside the window, and the long, melancholy call of a fruitseller echoed down the street: "Fragola! fragola!"

"'On the Healing of the Leper'; here it is." Arthur came across the room with the velvet10 tread that always exasperated11 the good folk at home. He was a slender little creature, more like an Italian in a sixteenth-century portrait than a middle-class English lad of the thirties. From the long eyebrows12 and sensitive mouth to the small hands and feet, everything about him was too much chiseled13, overdelicate. Sitting still, he might have been taken for a very pretty girl masquerading in male attire14; but when he moved, his lithe15 agility……

In one corner stood a huge summer-flowering magnolia, a tower of dark foliage25, splashed here and there with milk-white blossoms. A rough wooden bench had been placed against the trunk; and on this Montanelli sat down. Arthur was studying philosophy at the university; and, coming to a difficulty with a book, had applied26 to "the Padre" for an explanation of the point. Montanelli was a universal encyclopaedia27 to him, though he had never been a pupil of the seminary.

"I had better go now," he said when the passage had been cleared up; "unless you want me for anything."

"I don't want to work any more, but I should like you to stay a bit if you have time."

"Oh, yes!" He leaned back against the tree-trunk and looked up through the dusky branches at the first faint stars glimmering28 in a quiet sky. The dreamy, mystical eyes, deep blue under black lashes29, were an inheritance from his Cornish mother, and Montanelli turned his head away, that he might not see them.

"You are looking tired, carino," he said.

"I can't help it." There was a weary sound in Arthur's voice, and the Padre noticed it at once.

"You should not have gone up to college so soon; you were tired out with sick-nursing and being up at night. I ought to have insisted on your taking a thorough rest before you left Leghorn."

……

翻译：

亚瑟坐在比萨神学院的图书馆里，正翻阅着一堆布道手稿。那是六月里一个炎热的夜晚，窗户大开着，百叶窗半关着，以供乘凉。院长父亲卡农·蒙泰内利 (Canon Montanelli) 在写作中，停了一会儿，慈爱地瞥了一眼弯下腰看稿件的黑脑袋。

“你找不到吗，亚亚，没关系的；我必须重写这段话。可能它被撕毁了，我白白留了你这么久。”

泰尼里的声音相当低沉，但浑厚而洪亮。银白色的音调，使他的说话具有一种奇特的魅力。这是天生演说家的声音，具有丰富的回转腔调。当他对亚亚说话时，音调总是爱抚而温柔。

“不，神父，我必须找到它；我确定你把它放在这里了。你永远无法通过重写来让它保持原样。”

蒙泰尼继续他的工作。一只昏昏欲睡的金龟子，在窗外昏昏欲睡地哼着歌  ，街上回荡着卖水果的悠长忧郁的叫声：“卖草莓啦！甜甜的草莓啦！”