the egoist-第47部分

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within　view　of　the　wasted　penitent　whom　we　have　struck　a　trifle
too　hard。　Seeing　her　penitent；　he　certainly　would　be　willing　to
surround　her　with　little　offices　of　compromising　kindness。　It
would　depend　on　her　age。　Supposing　her　still　youngish；　there　might
be　captivating　passages　between　them；　as　thus；　in　a　style　not
unfamiliar：

〃And　was　it　my　fault；　my　poor　girl？　Am　I　to　blame；　that　you　have
passed　a　lonely；　unloved　youth？〃

〃No；　Willoughby！　The　irreparable　error　was　mine；　the　blame　is
mine；　mine　only。　I　live　to　repent　it。　I　do　not　seek；　for　I　have
not　deserved；　your　pardon。　Had　I　it；　I　should　need　my　own
self…esteem　to　presume　to　clasp　it　to　a　bosom　ever　unworthy　of
you。〃

〃I　may　have　been　impatient；　Clara：　we　are　human！〃

〃Never　be　it　mine　to　accuse　one　on　whom　I　laid　so　heavy　a　weight
of　forbearance！〃

〃Still；　my　old　love！for　I　am　merely　quoting　history　in　naming
you　soI　cannot　have　been　perfectly　blameless。〃

〃To　me　you　were；　and　are。〃

〃Clara！〃

〃Willoughby！〃

〃Must　I　recognize　the　bitter　truth　that　we　two；　once　nearly　one！
so　nearly　one！　are　eternally　separated？〃

〃I　have　envisaged　it。　My　friendI　may　call　you　friend；　you　have
ever　been　my　friend；　my　best　friend！　oh；　that　eyes　had　been　mine
to　know　the　friend　I　had！Willoughby；　in　the　darkness　of　night；
and　during　days　that　were　as　night　to　my　soul；　I　have　seen　the
inexorable　finger　pointing　my　solitary　way　through　the　wilderness
from　a　Paradise　forfeited　by　my　most　wilful；　my　wanton；　sin。　We
have　met。　It　is　more　than　I　have　merited。　We　part。　In　mercy　let　it
be　for　ever。　Oh；　terrible　word！　Coined　by　the　passions　of　our
youth；　it　comes　to　us　for　our　sole　riches　when　we　are　bankrupt　of
earthly　treasures；　and　is　the　passport　given　by　Abnegation　unto
Woe　that　prays　to　quit　this　probationary　sphere。　Willoughby；　we
part。　It　is　better　so。〃

〃Clara！　oneone　onlyone　lastone　holy　kiss！〃

〃If　these　poor　lips；　that　once　were　sweet　to　you　。。。

The　kiss；　to　continue　the　language　of　the　imaginative　composition
of　his　time；　favourite　readings　in　which　had　inspired　Sir
Willoughby　with　a　colloquy　so　pathetic；　was　imprinted。

Ay；　she　had　the　kiss；　and　no　mean　one。　It　was　intended　to　swallow
every　vestige　of　dwindling　attractiveness　out　of　her；　and　there
was　a　bit　of　scandal　springing　of　it　in　the　background　that
satisfactorily　settled　her　business；　and　left　her　'enshrined　in
memory；　a　divine　recollection　to　him；'　as　his　popular　romances
would　say；　and　have　said　for　years。

Unhappily；　the　fancied　salute　of　her　lips　encircled　him　with　the
breathing　Clara。　She　rushed　up　from　vacancy　like　a　wind　summoned
to　wreck　a　stately　vessel。

His　reverie　had　thrown　him　into　severe　commotion。　The　slave　of　a
passion　thinks　in　a　ring；　as　hares　run：　he　will　cease　where　he
began。　Her　sweetness　had　set　him　off；　and　he　whirled　back　to　her
sweetness：　and　that　being　incalculable　and　he　insatiable；　you　have
the　picture　of　his　torments　when　you　consider　that　her　behaviour
made　her　as　a　cloud　to　him

Riding　slack；　horse　and　man；　in　the　likeness　of　those　two　ajog
homeward　from　the　miry　hunt；　the　horse　pricked　his　cars；　and
Willoughby　looked　down　from　his　road　along　the　bills　on　the　race
headed　by　young　Crossjay　with　a　short　start　over　Aspenwell　Common
to　the　ford。　There　was　no　mistaking　who　they　were；　though　they
were　well…nigh　a　mile　distant　below。　He　noticed　that　they　did　not
overtake　the　boy。　They　drew　rein　at　the　ford；　talking　not　simply
face　to　face；　but　face　in　face。　Willoughby's　novel　feeling　of　he
knew　not　what　drew　them　up　to　him；　enabling　him　to　fancy　them
bathing　in　one　another's　eyes。　Then　she　sprang　through　the　ford；
De　Craye　following；　but　not　close　afterand　why　not　close？　She
had　flicked　him　with　one　of　her　peremptorily　saucy　speeches　when
she　was　bold　with　the　gallop。　They　were　not　unknown　to　Willoughby。
They　signified　intimacy。

Last　night　he　had　proposed　to　De　Craye　to　take　Miss　Middleton　for
a　ride　the　next　afternoon。　It　never　came　to　his　mind　then　that　he
and　his　friend　had　formerly　been　rivals。　He　wished　Clara　to　be
amused。　Policy　dictated　that　every　thread　should　be　used　to　attach
her　to　her　residence　at　the　Hall　until　he　could　command　his　temper
to　talk　to　her　calmly　and　overwhelm　her；　as　any　man　in　earnest；
with　command　of　temper　and　a　point　of　vantage；　may　be　sure　to
whelm　a　young　woman。　Policy；　adulterated　by　temper；　yet　policy　it
was　that　had　sent　him　on　his　errand　in　the　early　morning　to　beat
about　for　a　house　and　garden　suitable　to　Dr。　Middleton　within　a
circuit　of　five；　six；　or　seven　miles　of　Patterne　Hall。　If　the　Rev。
Doctor　liked　the　house　and　took　it　（and　Willoughby　had　seen　the
place　to　suit　him）；　the　neighbourhood　would　be　a　chain　upon　Clara：
and　if　the　house　did　not　please　a　gentleman　rather　hard　to　please
（except　in　a　venerable　wine）；　an　excuse　would　have　been　started
for　his　visiting　other　houses；　and　he　had　that　response　to　his
importunate　daughter；　that　he　believed　an　excellent　house　was　on
view。　Dr。　Middleton　had　been　prepared　by　numerous　hints　to　meet
Clara's　black　misreading　of　a　lovers〃　quarrel；　so　that　everything
looked　full　of　promise　as　far　as　Willoughby's　exercise　of　policy
went。

But　the　strange　pang　traversing　him　now　convicted　him　of　a　large
adulteration　of　profitless　temper　with　it。　The　loyalty　of　De　Craye
to　a　friend；　where　a　woman　walked　in　the　drama；　was　notorious。　It
was　there；　and　a　most　flexible　thing　it　was：　and　it　soon
resembled　reason　manipulated　by　the　sophists。　Not　to　have
reckoned　on　his　peculiar　loyalty　was　proof　of　the　blindness　cast
on　us　by　temper。

And　De　Craye　had　an　Irish　tongue；　and　he　had　it　under　control；　so
that　he　could　talk　good　sense　and　airy　nonsense　at　discretion。　The
strongest　overboiling　of　English　Puritan　contempt　of　a　gabbler；
would　not　stop　women　from　liking　it。　Evidently　Clara　did　like　it；
and　Willoughby　thundered　on　her　sex。　Unto　such　brainless　things　as
these　do　we；　under　the　irony　of　circumstances；　confide　our　honour！

For　he　was　no　gabbler。　He　remembered　having　rattled　in　earlier
days；　he　had　rattled　with　an　object　to　gain；　desiring　to　be　taken
for　an　easy；　careless；　vivacious；　charming　fellow；　as　any　young
gentleman　may　be　who　gaily　wears　the　golden　dish　of　Fifty　thousand
pounds　per　annum；　nailed　to　the　back　of　his　very　saintly　young
pate。　The　growth　of　the　critical　spirit　in　him；　however；　had
informed　him　that　slang　had　been　a　principal　component　of　his
rattling；　and　as　he　justly　supposed　it　a　betraying　art　for　his
race　and　for　him；　he　passed　through　the　prim　and　the　yawning
phases　of　affected　indifference；　to　the　pine　Puritanism　of　a
leaden　contempt　of　gabblers。

They　snare　women；　you　seegirls！　How　despicable　the　host　of
girls！at　least；　that　girl　below　there！

Married　women　understood　him：　widows　did。　He　placed　an　exceedingly
handsome　and　flattering　young　widow　of　his　acquaintance；　Lady　Mary
Lewison；　beside　Clara　for　a　comparison；　involuntarily；　and　at
once；　in　a　flash；　in　despite　of　him　（he　would　rather　it　had　been
otherwise）；　and　in　despite　of　Lady　Mary's　high　birth　and
connections　as　well；　the　silver　lustre　of　the　maid　sicklied　the
poor　widow。

The　effect　of　the　luckless　comparison　was　to　produce　an　image　of
surpassingness　in　the　features　of　Clara　that　gave　him　the　final；
or　mace…blow。　Jealousy　invaded　him。

He　had　hitherto　been　free　of　it；　regarding　jealousy　as　a　foreign
devil；　the　accursed　familiar　of　the　vulgar。　Luckless　fellows　might
be　victims　of　the　disease；　he　was　not；　and　neither　Captain　Oxford；
nor　Vernon；　nor　De　Craye；　nor　any　of　his　compeers；　had　given　him
one　shrewd　pinch：　the　woman　had；　not　the　man；　and　she　in　quite　a
different　fashion　from　his　present　wallowing　anguish：　she　had
never　pulled　him　to　earth's　level；　where　jealousy　gnaws　the
grasses。　He　had　boasted　himself　above　the　humiliating　visitation。

If　that　had　been　the　case；　we　should　not　have　needed　to　trouble
ourselves　much　about　him。　A　run　or　two　with　the　pack　of　imps　would
have　satisfied　us。　But　he　desired　Clara　Middleton　manfully　enough
at　an　intimation　of　rivalry　to　be　jealous；　in　a　minute　the　foreign
devil　had　him；　he　was　flame：　flaming　verdigris；　one　might　almost
dare　to　say；　for　an　exact　illustration；　such　was　actually　the
colour；　but　accept　it　as　unsaid。

Remember　the　poets　upon　jealousy。　It　is　to　be　haunted　in　the　heaven
of　two　by　a　Third；　preceded　or　succeeded；　therefore　surrounded；
embraced；　bugged　by　this　infernal　Third：　it　is　Love's　bed　of
burning　marl；　to　see　and　taste　the　withering　Third　in　the　bosom　of
sweetness；　to　be　dragged　through　the　past　and　find　the　fair　Eden
of　it　sulphurous；　to　be　dragged　to　the　gates　of　the　future　and
glory　to　behold　them　blood：　to　adore　the　bitter　creature　trebly
and　with　treble　power　to　clutch　her　by　the　windpipe：　it　is　to　be
cheated；　derided；　shamed；　and　abject　and　supplicating；　and
consciously　demoniacal　in　treacherousness；　and　victoriously
self…justified　in　revenge。

And　still　there　is　no　change　in　what　men　feel；　though　in　what　they
do　the　modern　may　be　judicious。

You　know　the　many　paintings　of　man　transformed　to　rageing　beast　by
the　curse：　and　this；　the　fieriest　trial　of　our　egoism；　worked　in
the　Egoist　to　produce　division　of　himself　from　himself；　a
concentration　of　his　thoughts　upon　another　object；　still　himself；
but　in　another　breast；　which　had　to　be　looked　at　and　into　for　the
discovery　of　him。　By　the　gaping　jaw…chasm　of　his　greed　we　may
gather　comprehension　of　his　insatiate　force　of　jealousy。　Let　her
go？　Not　though　he　were　to　become　a　mark　of　public　scorn　in
strangling　her　with　the　yoke！　His　concentration　was　marvellous。
Unused　to　the　exercise　of　imaginative　powers；　he　nevertheless
conjured　her　before　him　visually　till　his　eyeballs　ached。　He　saw
none　but　Clara；　hated　none；　loved　none；　save　the　intolerable
woman。　What　logic　was　in　him　deduced　her　to　be　individual　and　most
distinctive　from　the　circumstance　that　only　she　had　ever　wrought
these　pangs。　She　had　made　him　ready　for　them；　as　we　know。　An　idea
of　De　Craye　being　no　stranger　to　her　when　he　arrived　at　the　Hall；
dashed　him　at　De　Craye　for　a　second：　it　might　be　or　might　not　be
that　they　had　a　secret；Clara　was　the　spell。　So　prodigiously　did
he　love　and　hate；　that　he　had