brideshead+revisited-第18部分

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　　　　'We　came　on　it。'
　　　　'You　can't　have。　There　was　only　a　slow　train　from　Milan　at　that　time。　I　was　at　the　Lido。　I　have　taken　to　playing　tennis　there　with　the　professional　in　the　early　evening。　It　is　the　only　time　of　day　when　it　is　not　too　hot。　I　hope　you　boys　will　be　fairly　fortable　upstairs。　This　house　seems　to　have　been　designed　for　the　fort　of　only　one　person；　and　I　am　that　one。　I　have　a　room　the　size　of　this　and　a　very　decent　dressing…room。　Cara　has　taken　possession　of　the　other　sizeable　room。'
　　　　I　was　fascinated　to　hear　him　speak　of　his　mistress　so　simply　and　casually；　later　I　suspected　that　it　was　done　for　effect；　for　me。
　　　　'How　is　she？'
　　　　'Cara？　Well；　I　hope。　She　will　be　back　with　us　tomorrow。　She　is　visiting　some　American　friends　at　a　villa　on　the　Brenta　canal。　Where　shall　we　dine？　We　might　go　to　the　Luna；　but　it　is　filling　up　with　English　now。　Would　you　be　too　dull　at　home？　Cara　is　sure　to　want　to　go　out　tomorrow；　and　the　cook　here　is　really　quite　excellent。'
　　　　He　had　moved　away　from　the　window　and　now　stood　in　the　full　evening　sunlight；　with　the　red　damask　of　the　walls　behind　him。　It　was　a　noble　face；　a　controlled　one；　just；　it　seemed；　as　he　planned　it　to　be；　slightly　weary；　slightly　sardonic；　slightly　voluptuous。　He　seemed　in　the　prime　of　life…　it　was　odd　to　think　that　he　was　only　a　few　years　younger　than　my　father。
　　　　We　dined　at　a　marble　table　in　the　windows；　everything　was　either　of　marble；　or　velvet；　or　dull；　gilt　gesso；　in　this　house。　Lord　Marchmain　said；　'And　how　do　you　plan　your　time　here？　Bathing　or　sight…seeing？'
　　　　'Some　sight…seeing；　anyway；'　I　said。
　　　　'Cara　will　like　that　…　she；　as　Sebastian　will　have　told　you；　is　your　hostess　here。　You　can't　do　both；　you　know。　Once　you　go　to　the　Lido　there　is　no　escaping　…　you　play　backgammon；　you　get　caught　at　the　bar；　you　get　stupefied　by　the　sun。　Stick　to　the　churches。'
　　　　'Charles　is　very　keen　on　painting；。'　said　Sebastian。
　　　　'Yes？'　I　noticed　the　hint　of　deep　boredom　which　I　knew　so　well　in　my　own　father。　'Yes？　Any　particular　Venetian　painter？'
　　　　'Bellini；'　I　answered　rather　wildly。
　　　　'Yes？　Which？'
　　　　'I'm　afraid　that　I　didn't　know　there　were　two　of　them。'
　　　　'Three　to　be　precise。　You　will　find　that　in　the　great　ages　painting　was　very　much　a　family　business。　How　did　you　leave　England？'
　　　　'It　has　been　lovely；'　said　Sebastian。
　　　　'Was　it？　Was　it？　It　has　been　my　tragedy　that　I　abominate　the　English　countryside。　I　suppose　it　is　a　disgraceful　thing　to　inherit　great　responsibilities　and　to　be　entirely　indifferent　to　them。　I　am　all　the　Socialists　would　have　me　be；　and　a　great　stumbling…block　to　my　own　party。　Well；　my　elder　son　will　change　all　that；　I've　no　doubt；　if　they　leave　him　anything　to　inherit。。。Why；　I　wonder；　are　Italian　sweets　always　thought　to　be　so　good？　There　was　always　an　Italian　pastry…cook　at　Brideshead　until　my　father's　day。　He　had　an　Austrian；　so　much　better。　And　now　I　suppose　there　is　some　British　matron　with　beefy　forearms。'
　　　　After　dinner　we　left　the　palace　by　the　street　door　and　walked　through　a　maze　of。bridges　and　squares　and　alleys；　to　Florian's　for　coffee；　and　watched　the　grave　crowds　crossing　and　recrossing　under　the　campanile。　'There　is　nothing　quite　like　a　Venetian　crowd；'　said　Lord　Marchmain。　'The　city　is　crawling　with　Anarchists；　…　but　an　American　woman　tried　to　sit　here　the　other　night　with　bare　shoulders　and　they　drove　her　away　by　ing　to　stare　at　her；　quite　silently；　they　were　like　circling　gulls　ing　back　and　back　to　her；　until　she　left。　Our　countrymen　are　much　less　dignified　when　they　attempt　to　express　moral　disapproval。'
　　　　An　English　party　had　just　then　e　from　the　waterfront；　made　for　a　table　near　us；　and　then　suddenly　moved　to　the　other　side；　where　they　looked　askance　at　us　and　talked　with　their　heads　close　together。　'That　is　a　man　and　his　wife　I　used　to　know　when　I　was　in　politics。　A　prominent　member　of　your　church；　Sebastian。'
　　　　As　we　went　up　to　bed　that　night　Sebastian　said：　'He's　rather　a　poppet；　isn't　he？'

　　　　Lord　Marchmain's　mistress　arrived　next　day。　I　was　nineteen　years　old　and　pletely　ignorant　of　women。　I　could　not　with　any　certainty　recognize　a　prostitute　in　the　streets。　I　was　therefore　not　indifferent　to　the　fact　of　living　under　the　roof　of　an　adulterous　couple；　but　I　was　old　enough　to　hide　my　interest。　Lord　Marchmain's　mistress；　therefore；　found　me　with　a　multitude　of　conflicting　expectations　about　her　all　of　which　were；　for　the　moment；　disappointed　by　her　appearance。　She　was　not　a　voluptuous；　Toulouse…Lautrec　odalisque；　she　was　not　a　'little　bit　of　fluff'；　she　was　a　middle…aged；　well…preserved；　well…dressed；　well…mannered　woman　such　as　I　had　seen　in　countless　public　places　and　occasionally　met。　Nor　did　she　seem　marked　by　any　social　stigma。　On　the　day　of　her　arrival　we　lunched　at　the　Lido；　where　she　was　greeted　at　almost　every　table。
　　　　'Vittoria　Corombona　has　asked　us　all　to　her　ball　on　Saturday。'
　　　　'It　is　very　kind　of　her。　You　know　I　do　not　dance；'　said　Lord　Marchmain。
　　　　'But　for　the　boys？　It　is　a　thing　to　be　seen　…　the　Corombona　palace　lit　up　for　the　ball。　One　does　not　know　how　many　such　balls　there　will　be　in　the　future。'
　　　　'The　boys　can　do　as　they　like。　We　must　refuse。'
　　　　'And　I　have　asked　Mrs　Hacking　Brunner　to　luncheon。　She　has　a　charming　daughter。　Sebastian　and　his　friend　will　like　her。'
　　　　'Sebastian　and　his　friend　are　more　interested　in　Bellini　than　heiresses。'
　　　　'But　that　is　what　I　have　always　wished；'　said　Cara；　changing　her　point　of　attack　adroitly。　'I　have　been　here　more　times　than　I　can　count　and　Alex　has　not　once　let　me　inside　San　Marco；　even。　We　will　bee　tourists；　yes？'
　　　　We　became　tourists；　Cara　enlisted　as　guide　a　midget　Venetian　nobleman　to　whom　all　doors　were　open　and　with　him　at　her　side　and　a　guide　book　in　her　hand；　she　came　with　us；　flagging　sometimes　but　never　giving　up；　a　neat；　prosaic　figure　amid　the　immense　splendours　of　the　place。
　　　　The　fortnight　at　Venice　passed　quickly　and　sweetly　…　perhaps　too　sweetly；　I　was　drowning　in　honey；　stingless。　On　some　days　life　kept　pace　with　the　gondola；　as　we　nosed　through　the　sidecanals　and　the　boatman　uttered　his　plaintive　musical　bird…cry　of　warning；　on　other　days　with　the　speed…boat　bouncing　over　the　lagoon　in　a　stream　of　sun…lit　foam；　it　left　a　confused　memory　of　fierce　sunlight　on　the　sands　and　cool；　marble　interiors；　of　water　everywhere；　lapping　on　smooth　stone；　reflected　in　a　dapple　of　light　on　painted　ceilings；　of　a　night　at　the　Corombona　palace　such　as　Byron　might　have　known；　and　another　Byronic　night　fishing　for　scampi　in　the　shallows　of　Chioggia；　the　phosphorescent　wake　of　the　little　ship；　the　lantern　swinging　in　the　prow；　and　the　net　ing　up　full　of　weed　and　sand　and　floundering　fishes；　of　melon　and　prosciutto　on　the　balcony　in　the　cool　of　the　morning；　of　hot　cheese　sandwiches　and　champagne　cocktails　at　Harry's　bar。
　　　　I　remember　Sebastian　looking　up　at　the　Colleoni　statue　and　saying；　'It's　rather　sad　to　think　that　whatever　happens　you　and　I　can　never　possibly　get　involved　in　a　war。'
　　　　I　remember　most　particularly　one　conversation　towards　the　end　of　my　visit。
　　　　Sebastian　had　gone　to　play　tennis　with　his　father　and　Cara　at　last　admitted　to　fatigue。　We　sat　in　the　late　afternoon　at　the　windows　overlooking　the　Grand　Canal；　she　on　the　sofa　with　a　piece　of　needlework；　I　in　an　armchair；　idle。　It　was　the　first　time　we　had　been　alone　together。
　　　　'I　think　you　are　very　…fond　of　Sebastian；'　she　said。
　　　　'Why；　certainly。'
　　　　'I　know　of　these　romantic　friendships　of　the　English　and　the　Germans。　They　are　not　Latin。　I　think　they　are　very　good　if　they　do　not　go　on　too　long。'
　　　　She　was　so　posed　and　matter…of…fact　that　I　could　not　take　her　amiss；　but　I　failed　to　find　an　answer。　She　seemed　not　to　expect　one　but　continued　stitching；　pausing　sometimes　to　match　the　silk　from　a　work…bag　at　her　side。
　　　　'It　is　a　kind　of　love　that　es　to　children　before　they　know　its　meaning。　In　England　it　es　when　you　are　almost　men；　I　think　I　like　that。　It　is　better　to　have　that　kind　of　love　for　another　boy　than　for　a　girl。　Alex　you　see　had　it　for　a　girl；　for　his　wife。　Do　you　think　he　loves　me？'
　　　　'Really；　Cara；　you　ask　the　most　embarrassing　questions。　How　should　I　know？　I　assume。。。'
　　　　'He　does　not。　But　not　the　littlest　piece。　Then　why　does　he　stay　with　me？　I　will　tell　you；　because　I　protect　him　from　Lady　Marchmain。　He　hates　her；　but　you　can　have　no　conception　how　he　hates　her。　You　would　think　him　so　calm　and　English　…　the　milord；　rather　blas？　all　passion　dead；　wishing　to　be　fortable　and　not　to　be　worried；　following　the　sun；　with　me　to　look　after　that　one　thing　that　no　man　can　do　for　himself。　My　friend；　he　is　a　volcano　of　hate。　He　cannot　breathe　the　same　air　as　she。　He　will　not　set　foot　in　England　because　it　is　her　home；　he　can　scarcely　be　happy　with　Sebastian　because　he　is　her　son。　But　Sebastian　hates　her　too。'
　　　　'I'm　sure　you're　wrong　there。'
　　　　'He　may　not　admit　it　to　you。　He　may　not　admit　it　to　himself；　they　are　full　of　hate　…　hate　of　themselves。　Alex　and　his　family。。。Why　do　you　think　he　will　never　go　into　Society？'
　　　　'I　always　thought　people　had　turned　against　him。'
　　　　'My　dear　boy；　you　are　very　young。　People　turn　against　a　handsome；　clever；　wealthy　man　like　Alex？　Never　in　your　life。　It　is　he　who　has　driven　them　away。　Even　now　they　e　back　again　and　again　to　be　snubbed　and　laughed　at。　And　all　for　Lady　Marchmain。　He　will　not　touch　a　hand　which　may　have　touched　hers。　When　we　have　guests　I　see　him　thinking；　〃Have　they　perhaps　just　e　from　Brideshead？　Are　they　on　their　way　to　Marchmain　House？　Will　they　speak　of　me　to　my　wife？　Are　they　a　link　between　me　and　her　whom　I　hate？〃　But；　seriously；　with　my　heart；　that　is　how　he　thinks。　He　is　mad。　And　how　has　she　deserved　all　this　hate？　She　has　done　nothing　except　to　be　loved　by　someone　who　was　not　grown　up。　I　have　never　met　Lady　Marchmain；　I　have　seen　her　once　only；　but　if　you　live　with　a　man　you　e　to　know　the　other　woman　he　has　loved。　I　know　Lady　Marchmain　very　well。　She　is　a　good　and　simple　woman　who　has　been　loved　in　the　wrong　way。
　　　　'When　people　hate　with　all　that　energy；　it　is　something　in　themselves　they　are　hating。　Alex　is　hating　all　the　illusions　of　boyhood　…　innocence；　God；　hope。　Poor　Lady　Marchmain　has　to　bear　all　that。　A　woman　has　not　all　these