a far country-第86节
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Nancy magically restored to girlhood;anew Nancy; betraying only traces
of the old; a new Nancy in a new Eden。 We had all the setting; all the
illusion of that perfect ideal of domesticity; love in a cottage。 Nancy
and I; who all our lives had spurned simplicity; laughed over the joy we
found in it: she made a high art of it; of course; we had our simple
dinners; which Mrs。 Olsen cooked and served in the open air; sometimes on
the porch; sometimes under the great butternut tree spreading its shade
over what in a more elaborate country…place;
would have been called a lawn;an uneven plot of grass of ridges and
hollows that ran down to the orchard。 Nancy's eyes would meet mine
across the little table; and often our gaze would wander over the
pastures below; lucent green in the level evening light; to the darkening
woods beyond; gilt…tipped in the setting sun。 There were fields of
ripening yellow grain; of lusty young corn that grew almost as we watched
it: the warm winds of evening were heavy with the acrid odours of
fecundity。 Fecundity! In that lay the elusive yet insistent charm of
that country; and Nancy's; of course; was the transforming touch that
made it paradise。 It was thus; in the country; I suggested that we
should spend the rest of our existence。 What was the use of amassing
money; when happiness was to be had so simply?
〃How long do you think you could stand it?〃 she asked; as she handed me a
plate of blackberries。
〃Forever; with the right woman;〃 I announced。
〃How long could the woman stand it?〃。。。。 She humoured; smilingly; my
crystal…gazing into our future; as though she had not the heart to
deprive me of the pleasure。
〃I simply can't believe in it; Hugh;〃 she said when I pressed her for an
answer。
〃Why not?〃
〃I suppose it's because I believe in continuity; I haven't the romantic
temperament;I always see the angel with the flaming sword。 It isn't
that I want to see him。〃
〃But we shall redeem ourselves;〃 I said。 〃It won't be curiosity and
idleness。 We are not just taking this thing; and expecting to give
nothing for it in return。〃
〃What can we give that is worth it?〃 she exclaimed; with one of her
revealing flashes。
〃We won't take it lightly; but seriously;〃 I told her。 〃We shall find
something to give; and that something will spring naturally out of our
love。 We'll read together; and think and plan together。〃
〃Oh; Hugh; you are incorrigible;〃 was all she said。
The male tendency in me was forever strained to solve her; to deduce from
her conversation and conduct a body of consistent law。 The effort was
useless。 Here was a realm; that of Nancy's soul; in which there was
apparently no such thing as relevancy。 In the twilight; after dinner; we
often walked through the orchard to a grassy bank beside the little
stream; where we would sit and watch the dying glow in the sky。 After a
rain its swollen waters were turbid; opaque yellow…red with the clay of
the hills; at other times it ran smoothly; temperately; almost clear
between the pasture grasses and wild flowers。 Nancy declared that it
reminded her of me。 We sat there; into the lush; warm nights; and the
moon shone down on us; or again through long silences we searched the
bewildering; starry chart of the heavens; with the undertones of the
night…chorus of the fields in our ears。 Sometimes she let my head rest
upon her knee; but when; throbbing at her touch; with the life…force
pulsing around us; I tried to take her in my arms; to bring her lips to
mine; she resisted me with an energy of will and body that I could not
overcome; I dared not overcome。 She acknowledged her love for me; she
permitted me to come to her; she had the air of yielding but never
yielded。 Why; then; did
she allow the words of love to pass? and how draw the line between
caresses? I was maddened and disheartened by that elusive resistance in
herapparently so frail a thing!that neither argument nor importunity
could break down。 Was there something lacking in me? or was it that I
feared to mar or destroy the love she had。 This; surely; had not been
the fashion of other loves; called unlawful; the classic instances
celebrated by the poets of all ages rose to mock me。
〃Incurably romantic;〃 she had called me; in calmer moments; when I was
able to discuss our affair objectively。 And once she declared that I had
no sense of tragedy。 We read 〃Macbeth〃 together; I remember; one rainy
Sunday。 The modern world; which was our generation; would seem to be cut
off from all that preceded it as with a descending knife。 It was
precisely from 〃the sense of tragedy〃 that we had been emancipated: from
the 〃agonized conscience;〃 I should undoubtedly have said; had I been
acquainted then with Mr。 Santayana's later phrase。 Conscience; the old
kind of conscience;and nothing inherent in the deeds themselves; made
the tragedy; conscience was superstition; the fear of the wrath of the
gods: conscience was the wrath of the gods。 Eliminate it; and behold!
there were no consequences。 The gods themselves; that kind of gods;
became as extinct as the deities of the Druids; the Greek fates; the
terrible figures of German mythology。 Yes; and as the God of Christian
orthodoxy。
Had any dire calamities overtaken the modern Macbeths; of whose personal
lives we happened to know something? Had not these great ones broken
with impunity all the laws of traditional morality? They ground the
faces of the poor; played golf and went to church with serene minds;
untroubled by criticism; they appropriated; quite freely; other men's
money; and some of them other men's wives; and yet they were not haggard
with remorse。 The gods remained silent。 Christian ministers regarded
these modern transgressors of ancient laws benignly and accepted their
contributions。 Here; indeed; were the supermen of the mad German prophet
and philosopher come to life; refuting all classic tragedy。 It is true
that some of these supermen were occasionally swept away by disease;
which in ancient days would have been regarded as a retributive scourge;
but was in fact nothing but the logical working of the laws of hygiene;
the result of overwork。 Such; though stated more crudely; were my
contentions when desire did not cloud my brain and make me incoherent。
And I did not fail to remind Nancy; constantly; that this was the path on
which her feet had been set; that to waver now was to perish。 She
smiled; yet she showed concern。
〃But suppose you don't get what you want?〃 she objected。 〃What then?
Suppose one doesn't become a superman? or a superwoman? What's to happen
to one? Is there no god but the superman's god; which is himself? Are
there no gods for those who can't be supermen? or for those who may
refuse to be supermen?〃
To refuse; I maintained; were a weakness of the will。
〃But there are other wills;〃 she persisted; 〃wills over which the
superman may conceivably have no control。 Suppose; for example; that you
don't get me; that my will intervenes; granting it to be conceivable that
your future happiness and welfare; as you insist; depend upon your
getting mewhich I doubt。〃
〃You've no reason to doubt it。〃
〃Well; granting it; then。 Suppose the orthodoxies and superstitions
succeed in inhibiting me。 I may not be a superwoman; but my will; or my
conscience; if you choose; may be stronger than yours。 If you don't get
what you want; you aren't happy。 In other words; you fail。 Where are
your gods then? The trouble with you; my dear Hugh; is that you have
never failed;〃 she went on; 〃you've never had a good; hard fall; you've
always been on the winning side; and you've never had the world against
you。 No wonder you don't understand the meaning and value of tragedy。〃
〃And you?〃 I asked。
〃No;〃 she agreed; 〃nor I。 Yet I have come to feel; instinctively; that
somehow concealed in tragedy is the central fact of life; the true
reality; that nothing is to be got by dodging it; as we have dodged it。
Your superman; at least the kind of superman you portray; is petrified。
Something vital in him; that should be plastic and sensitive; has turned
to stone。〃
〃Since when did you begin to feel this?〃 I inquired uneasily。
〃Sincewell; since we have been together again; in the last month or
two。 Something seems to warn me that if we takewhat we want; we shan't
get it。 That's an Irish saying; I know; but it expresses my meaning。 I
may be little; I may be superstitious; unlike the great women of history
who have dared。 But it's more than mere playing safemy instinct; I
mean。 You see; you are involved。 I believe I shouldn't hesitate if only
myself were concerned; but you are the uncertain quantitymore uncertain
than you have any idea; you think you know yourself; you think you have
analyzed yourself; but the truth is; Hugh; you don't know the meaning of
struggle against real resistance。〃
I was about to protest。
〃I know that you have conquered in the world of men and affairs;〃 she
hurried on; 〃against resistance; but it isn't the kind of resistance I
mean。 It doesn't differ essentially from the struggle in the animal
kingdom。〃
I bowed。 〃Thank you;〃 I said。
She