Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- List of Illustrations
- Acknowledgements
- List of Abbreviations
- General Editors’ Preface
- General Chronology of James’s Life and Writings
- Introduction
- Textual Introduction
- Chronology of Composition and Production
- Bibliography
- The Princess Casamassima
- Glossary of Foreign Words and Phrases
- Notes
- Textual Variants I: Substantive Variants up to Copy Text
- Textual Variants II: Substantive Variants after Copy Text
- Emendations
- Appendix: Preface to New York Edition
XXII
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 11 April 2021
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- List of Illustrations
- Acknowledgements
- List of Abbreviations
- General Editors’ Preface
- General Chronology of James’s Life and Writings
- Introduction
- Textual Introduction
- Chronology of Composition and Production
- Bibliography
- The Princess Casamassima
- Glossary of Foreign Words and Phrases
- Notes
- Textual Variants I: Substantive Variants up to Copy Text
- Textual Variants II: Substantive Variants after Copy Text
- Emendations
- Appendix: Preface to New York Edition
Summary
Hyacinth got up early — an operation attended with very little effort, as he had scarcely closed his eyes all night. What he saw from his window made him dress as rapidly as a young man could do who desired more than ever that his appearance should not give strange ideas about him: an old garden, with parterres in curious figures, and little intervals of lawn which appeared to our hero's cockney vision fantastically green. At one end of the garden was a parapet of mossy brick, which looked down on the other side into a canal, or moat, or quaint old pond; and from the same standpoint there was also a view of a considerable part of the main body of the house (Hyacinth's room appeared to be in a wing commanding the extensive, irregular back), which was richly gray wherever it was not green with ivy and other dense creepers, and everywhere infinitely like a picture, with a high-piled, ancient, russet roof, broken by huge chimneys and queer peep-holes and all manner of odd gables and windows on different lines and antique patches and protrusions, and a particularly fascinating architectural excrescence in which a wonderful clockface was lodged — a clock-face covered with gilding and blazonry but showing many traces of the years and the weather. Hyacinth had never in his life been in the country — the real country, as he called it, the country which was not the mere raveled fringe of London — and there entered through his open casement the breath of a world enchantingly new and, after his recent feverish hours, inexpressibly refreshing to him; a sense of sweet, sunny air and mingled odours, all strangely pure and agreeable, and a kind of musical silence, the greater part of which seemed to consist of the voices of birds. There were tall, quiet trees near by, and afar off, and everywhere; and the group of objects which greeted Hyacinth's eyes evidently formed only a corner of larger spaces and a more complicated scene. There was a world to be revealed to him: it lay waiting, with the dew upon it, under his windows, and he must go down and take his first steps in it.
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- The Princess Casamassima , pp. 221 - 235Publisher: Cambridge University PressPrint publication year: 2020