Chapter23
AsplendidMidsummershoneoverEngland:skiessopure，sunssoradiantaswerethenseeninlongsuccession，seldomfavourevensingly，ourwave—girtland。ItwasasifabandofItaliandayshadcomefromtheSouth，likeaflockofgloriouspassengerbirds，andlightedtorestthemonthecliffsofAlbion。Thehaywasallgotin;thefieldsroundThornfieldweregreenandshorn;theroadswhiteandbaked;thetreeswereintheirdarkprime;hedgeandwood，full—leavedanddeeplytinted，contrastedwellwiththesunnyhueoftheclearedmeadowsbetween。
OnMidsummer—eve，Adèle，wearywithgatheringwildstrawberriesinHayLanehalftheday，hadgonetobedwiththesun。Iwatchedherdropasleep，andwhenIlefther，Isoughtthegarden。
Itwasnowthesweetesthourofthetwenty—four:—“Dayitsfervidfireshadwasted，”anddewfellcoolonpantingplainandscorchedsummit。Wherethesunhadgonedowninsimplestate—pureofthepompofclouds—spreadasolemnpurple，burningwiththelightofredjewelandfurnaceflameatonepoint，ononehill—peak，andextendinghighandwide，softandstillsofter，overhalfheaven。Theeasthaditsowncharmorfinedeepblue，anditsownmodestgem，acasinoandsolitarystar:soonitwouldboastthemoon;butshewasyetbeneaththehorizon。
Iwalkedawhileonthepavement;butasubtle，well—knownscent—thatofacigar—stolefromsomewindow;Isawthelibrarycasementopenahandbreadth;IknewImightbewatchedthence;soIwentapartintotheorchard。NonookinthegroundsmoreshelteredandmoreEden—like;itwasfulloftrees，itbloomedwithflowers:averyhighwallshutitoutfromthecourt，ononeside;ontheother，abeechavenuescreeneditfromthelawn。Atthebottomwasasunkfence;itssoleseparationfromlonelyfields:awindingwalk，borderedwithlaurelsandterminatinginagianthorse—chestnut，circledatthebasebyaseat，leddowntothefence。Hereonecouldwanderunseen。Whilesuchhoney—dewfell，suchsilencereigned，suchgloaminggathered，IfeltasifIcouldhauntsuchshadeforever;butinthreadingtheflowerandfruitparterresattheupperpartoftheenclosure，enticedtherebythelightthenowrisingmooncastonthismoreopenquarter，mystepisstayed—notbysound，notbysight，butoncemorebyawarningfragrance。