the new machiavelli-第46节

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Altiora's　highest　praise　was　〃thoroughly　efficient。〃　　We　were　to　be　

a　〃thoroughly　efficient〃　political　couple　of　the　〃new　type。〃　　She　

explained　us　to　herself　and　Oscar；　she　explained　us　to　ourselves；　

she　explained　us　to　the　people　who　came　to　her　dinners　and　

afternoons　until　the　world　was　highly　charged　with　explanation　and　

expectation；　and　the　proposal　that　I　should　be　the　Liberal　candidate　

for　the　Kinghamstead　Division　seemed　the　most　natural　development　in　

the　world。



I　was　full　of　the　ideal　of　hard　restrained　living　and　relentless　

activity；　and　throughout　a　beautiful　November　at　Venice；　where　

chiefly　we　spent　our　honeymoon；　we　turned　over　and　over　again　and　

discussed　in　every　aspect　our　conception　of　a　life　tremendously　

focussed　upon　the　ideal　of　social　service。



Most　clearly　there　stands　out　a　picture　of　ourselves　talking　in　a　

gondola　on　our　way　to　Torcella。　　Far　away　behind　us　the　smoke　of　

Murano　forms　a　black　stain　upon　an　immense　shining　prospect　of　

smooth　water；　water　as　unruffled　and　luminous　as　the　sky　above；　a　

mirror　on　which　rows　of　posts　and　distant　black　high…stemmed；　swan…

necked　boats　with　their　minutely　clear　swinging　gondoliers；　float　

aerially。　　Remote　and　low　before　us　rises　the　little　tower　of　our　

destination。　　Our　men　swing　together　and　their　oars　swirl　leisurely　

through　the　water；　hump　back　in　the　rowlocks；　splash　sharply　and　go　

swishing　back　again。　　Margaret　lies　back　on　cushions；　with　her　face　

shaded　by　a　holland　parasol；　and　I　sit　up　beside　her。



〃You　see；〃　I　say；　and　in　spite　of　Margaret's　note　of　perfect　

acquiescence　I　feel　myself　reasoning　against　an　indefinable　

antagonism；　〃it　is　so　easy　to　fall　into　a　slack　way　with　life。　　

There　may　seem　to　be　something　priggish　in　a　meticulous　discipline；　

but　otherwise　it　is　so　easy　to　slip　into　indolent　habitsand　to　be　

distracted　from　one's　purpose。　　The　country；　the　world；　wants　men　to　

serve　its　constructive　needs；　to　work　out　and　carry　out　plans。　　For　

a　man　who　has　to　make　a　living　the　enemy　is　immediate　necessity；　for　

people　like　ourselves　it'sit's　the　constant　small　opportunity　of　

agreeable　things。〃



〃Frittering　away；〃　she　says；　〃time　and　strength。〃



〃That　is　what　I　feel。　　It's　so　pleasant　to　pretend　one　is　simply　

modest；　it　looks　so　foolish　at　times　to　take　one's　self　too　

seriously。　　We've　GOT　to　take　ourselves　seriously。〃



She　endorses　my　words　with　her　eyes。



〃I　feel　I　can　do　great　things　with　life。〃



〃I　KNOW　you　can。〃



〃But　that's　only　to　be　done　by　concentrating　one's　life　upon　one　

main　end。　　We　have　to　plan　our　days；　to　make　everything　subserve　our　

scheme。〃



〃I　feel；〃　she　answers　softly；　〃we　ought　to　giveevery　hour。〃



Her　face　becomes　dreamy。　　〃I　WANT　to　give　every　hour；〃　she　adds。







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That　holiday　in　Venice　is　set　in　my　memory　like　a　little　artificial　

lake　in　uneven　confused　country；　as　something　very　bright　and　

skylike；　and　discontinuous　with　all　about　it。　　The　faded　quality　of　

the　very　sunshine　of　that　season；　the　mellow　discoloured　palaces　and　

places；　the　huge；　time…ripened　paintings　of　departed　splendours；　the　

whispering；　nearly　noiseless　passage　of　hearse…black　gondolas；　for　

the　horrible　steam　launch　had　not　yet　ruined　Venice；　the　stilled　

magnificences　of　the　depopulated　lagoons；　the　universal　autumn；　made　

me　feel　altogether　in　recess　from　the　teeming　uproars　of　reality。　　

There　was　not　a　dozen　people　all　told；　no　Americans　and　scarcely　any　

English；　to　dine　in　the　big　cavern　of　a　dining…room；　with　its　vistas　

of　separate　tables；　its　distempered　walls　and　its　swathed　

chandeliers。　　We　went　about　seeing　beautiful　things；　accepting　

beauty　on　every　hand；　and　taking　it　for　granted　that　all　was　well　

with　ourselves　and　the　world。　　It　was　ten　days　or　a　fortnight　before　

I　became　fretful　and　anxious　for　action；　a　long　tranquillity　for　

such　a　temperament　as　mine。



Our　pleasures　were　curiously　impersonal；　a　succession　of　shared　

aesthetic　appreciation　threads　all　that　time。　　Our　honeymoon　was　no　

exultant　coming　together；　no　mutual　shout　of　〃YOU！〃　　We　were　almost　

shy　with　one　another；　and　felt　the　relief　of　even　a　picture　to　help　

us　out。　　It　was　entirely　in　my　conception　of　things　that　I　should　be　

very　watchful　not　to　shock　or　distress　Margaret　or　press　the　

sensuous　note。　　Our　love…making　had　much　of　the　tepid　smoothness　of　

the　lagoons。　　We　talked　in　delicate　innuendo　of　what　should　be　

glorious　freedoms。　　Margaret　had　missed　Verona　and　Venice　in　her　

previous　Italian　journeyfear　of　the　mosquito　had　driven　her　mother　

across　Italy　to　the　westward　routeand　now　she　could　fill　up　her　

gaps　and　see　the　Titians　and　Paul　Veroneses　she　already　knew　in　

colourless　photographs；　the　Carpaccios；　（the　St。　George　series　

delighted　her　beyond　measure；）　the　Basaitis　and　that　great　statue　of　

Bartolomeo　Colleoni　that　Ruskin　praised。



But　since　I　am　not　a　man　to　look　at　pictures　and　architectural　

effects　day　after　day；　I　did　watch　Margaret　very　closely　and　store　a　

thousand　memories　of　her。　　I　can　see　her　now；　her　long　body　drooping　

a　little　forward；　her　sweet　face　upraised　to　some　discovered　

familiar　masterpiece　and　shining　with　a　delicate　enthusiasm。　　I　can　

hear　again　the　soft　cadences　of　her　voice　murmuring　commonplace　

comments；　for　she　had　no　gift　of　expressing　the　shapeless　

satisfaction　these　things　gave　her。



Margaret；　I　perceived；　was　a　cultivated　person；　the　first　cultivated　

person　with　whom　I　had　ever　come　into　close　contact。　　She　was　

cultivated　and　moral；　and　I；　I　now　realise；　was　never　either　of　

these　things。　　She　was　passive；　and　I　am　active。　　She　did　not　simply　

and　naturally　look　for　beauty　but　she　had　been　incited　to　look　for　

it　at　school；　and　took　perhaps　a　keener　interest　in　books　and　

lectures　and　all　the　organisation　of　beautiful　things　than　she　did　

in　beauty　itself；　she　found　much　of　her　delight　in　being　guided　to　

it。　　Now　a　thing　ceases　to　be　beautiful　to　me　when　some　finger　points　

me　out　its　merits。　　Beauty　is　the　salt　of　life；　but　I　take　my　beauty　

as　a　wild　beast　gets　its　salt；　as　a　constituent　of　the　meal。　。　。　。



And　besides；　there　was　that　between　us　that　should　have　seemed　more　

beautiful　than　any　picture。　。　。　。



So　we　went　about　Venice　tracking　down　pictures　and　spiral　staircases　

and　such…like　things；　and　my　brains　were　busy　all　the　time　with　such　

things　as　a　comparison　of　Venice　and　its　nearest　modern　equivalent；　

New　York；　with　the　elaboration　of　schemes　of　action　when　we　returned　

to　London；　with　the　development　of　a　theory　of　Margaret。



Our　marriage　had　done　this　much　at　least；　that　it　had　fused　and　

destroyed　those　two　independent　ways　of　thinking　about　her　that　had　

gone　on　in　my　mind　hitherto。　　Suddenly　she　had　become　very　near　to　

me；　and　a　very　big　thing；　a　sort　of　comprehensive　generalisation　

behind　a　thousand　questions；　like　the　sky　or　England。　　The　judgments　

and　understandings　that　had　worked　when　she　was；　so　to　speak；　miles　

away　from　my　life；　had　now　to　be　altogether　revised。　　Trifling　

things　began　to　matter　enormously；　that　she　had　a　weak　and　easily　

fatigued　back；　for　example；　or　that　when　she　knitted　her　brows　and　

stammered　a　little　in　talking；　it　didn't　really　mean　that　an　

exquisite　significance　struggled　for　utterance。



We　visited　pictures　in　the　mornings　chiefly。　　In　the　afternoon；　

unless　we　were　making　a　day…long　excursion　in　a　gondola；　Margaret　

would　rest　for　an　hour　while　I　prowled　about　in　search　of　English　

newspapers；　and　then　we　would　go　to　tea　in　the　Piazza　San　Marco　and　

watch　the　drift　of　people　feeding　the　pigeons　and　going　into　the　

little　doors　beneath　the　sunlit　arches　and　domes　of　Saint　Mark's。　　

Then　perhaps　we　would　stroll　on　the　Piazzetta；　or　go　out　into　the　

sunset　in　a　gondola。　　Margaret　became　very　interested　in　the　shops　

that　abound　under　the　colonnades　and　decided　at　last　to　make　an　

extensive　purchase　of　table　glass。　　〃These　things；〃　she　said；　are　

quite　beautiful；　and　far　cheaper　than　anything　but　the　most　ordinary　

looking　English　ware。〃　　I　was　interested　in　her　idea；　and　a　good　

deal　charmed　by　the　delightful　qualities　of　tinted　shape；　slender　

handle　and　twisted　stem。　　I　suggested　we　should　get　not　simply　

tumblers　and　wineglasses　but　bedroom　waterbottles；　fruit…　and　sweet…

dishes；　water…jugs；　and　in　the　end　we　made　quite　a　business…like　

afternoon　of　it。



I　was　beginning　now　to　long　quite　definitely　for　events。　　Energy　was　

accumulating　in　me；　and　worrying　me　for　an　outlet。　　I　found　the　

TIMES　and　the　DAILY　TELEGRAPH　and　the　other　papers　I　managed　to　get　

hold　of；　more　and　more　stimulating。　　I　nearly　wrote　to　the　former　

paper　one　day　in　answer　to　a　letter　by　Lord　GrimthorpeI　forget　now　

upon　what　point。　　I　chafed　secretly　against　this　life　of　tranquil　

appreciations　more　and　more。　　I　found　my　attitudes　of　restrained　and　

delicate　affection　for　Marga