brideshead+revisited-第73部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　　　　'Poor　papa。'
　　　　'It's　great　sucks　to　Bridey。'
　　　　I　felt　triumphant。　I　had　been　right；　everyone　else　had　been　wrong；　truth　had　prevailed；　the　threat　that　I　had　felt　hanging　over　Julia　and　me　ever　since　that　evening　at　the　fountain；　had
been　averted；　perhaps　dispelled　for　ever；　and　there　was　also　…　I　can　now　confess　it　…　another　unexpressed；　inexpressible；　indecent　little　victory　that　I　was　furtively　celebrating。　I　guessed　that　that　morning's　business　had　put　Brideshead　some　considerable　way　further　from　his　rightful　inheritance。
　　　　In　that　I；　was　correct；　a　man　was　sent　for　from　the　solicitors　in　London；　in　a　day　or　two　he　came　and　it　was　known　throughout　the　house　that　Lord　Marchmain　had　made　a　new　will。　But　I　was　wrong　in　thinking　that　the　religious　controversy　was　quashed；　it　flamed　up　again　after　dinner　on　Brideshead's　last　evening。
　　　　'。。。What　papa　said　was；　〃I　am　not　in　extremis；　I　have　not　been　a　practising　member　of　the　Church　for　twenty…five　years。〃　'
　　　　'Not　〃the　Church〃；　〃your　Church〃。'
　　　　'I　don't　see　the　difference。'
　　　　'There's　every　difference。'
　　　　'Bridey；　it's　quite　plain　what　he　meant。'
　　　　'I　presume　he　meant　what　he　said。　He　meant　that　he　had　not　been　accustomed　regularly　to　receive　the　sacraments；　and　since　he　was　not　at　the　moment　dying；　he　did　not　mean　to　change　his　ways　…　yet。'
　　　　'That's　simply　a　quibble。'
　　　　'Why　do　people　always　think　that　one　is　quibbling　when　one　tries　to　be　precise？　His　plain　meaning　was　that　he　did　not　want　to　see　a　priest　that　day；　but　that　he　would　when　he　was　〃in　extremis〃。'
　　　　'I　wish　someone　would　explain　to　me；'　I　said；　'quite　what　the　significance　of　these　sacraments　is。　Do　you　mean　that　if　he　dies　alone　he　goes　to　hell；　and　that　if　a　priest　puts　oil　on　him　…　'
　　　　'Oh；　it's　not　the　oil；'　said　Cordelia；　'that's　to　heal　him。'
　　　　'Odder　still　…　well；　whatever　it　is　the　priest　does　…　that　he　then　goes　to　heaven。　Is　that　what　you　believe？'
　　　　Cara　then　interposed：　'I　think　my　nurse　told　me；　someone　did　anyway；　that　if　the　priest　got　there　before　the　body　was　cold　it　was　all　right。　That's　so；　isn't　it？'
　　　　The　others　turned　to　her。
　　　　'No；　Cara；　it's　not。'
　　　　'Of　course　not。'
　　　　'You've　got　it　all　wrong；　Cara。'
　　　　'Well；　I　remember　when　Alphonse　de　Grenet　died；　Madame　de　Grenet　had　a　priest　hidden　outside　the　door　…　he　couldn't　bear　the　sight　of　a　priest　…　and　brought　him　in　before　the　body　was　cold；　she　told　me　herself；　and　they　had　a　full　Requiem　for　him；　and　I　went　to　it。'
　　　　'Having　a　Requiem　doesn't　mean　you　go　to　heaven　necessarily。'
　　　　'Madame　de　Grenet　thought　it　did。'
　　　　'Well；　she　was　wrong。'
　　　　'Do　any　of　you　Catholics　know　what　good　you　think　this　priest　can　do？'　I　asked。　'Do　you　simply　want　to　arrange　it　so　that　your　father　can　have　Christian　burial？　Do　you　want　to　keep　him　out　of　hell？　I　only　want　to　be　told。'
　　　　Brideshead　told　me　at　some　length；　and　when　he　had　finished　Cara　slightly　marred　the　unity　of　the　Catholic　front　by　saying　in　simple　wonder；　'I　never　heard　that　before。'
　　　　'Let's　get　this　clear；'　I　said；　'he　has　to　make　an　act　of　will；　he　has　to　be　contrite　and　wish　to　be　reconciled；　is　that　right？　But　only　God　knows　whether　he　has　really　made　an　act　of　will；　the　priest　can't　tell；　and　if　there　isn't　a　priest　there；　and　he　makes　the　act　of　will　alone；　that's　as　good　as　if　there　were　a　priest。　And　it's　quite　possible　that　the　will　may　still　be　working　when　a　man　is　too　weak　to　make　any　outward　sign　of　it；　is　that　right？　He　may　be　lying；　as　though　for　dead；　and　willing　all　the　time；　and　being　reconciled；　and　God　understands　that；　is　that　right？'
　　　　'More　or　less；　'　said　Brideshead。
　　　　'Well；　for　heaven's　sake。'　I　said；　'what　is　the　priest　for？'　There　was　a　pause　in　which　Julia　sighed　and　Brideshead　drew　breath　as　though　to　start　further　subdividing　the　propositions。　In　the　silence　Cara　said；　'All　I　know　is　that　I　shall　take　very　good　care　to　have　a　priest。'
　　　　'Bless　you；'　said　Cordelia；　'I　believe　that's　the　best　answer。'
　　　　And　we　let　the　argument　drop；　each　for　different　reasons；　thinking　it　had　been　inconclusive。
　　　　Later　Julia　said：　'I　wish　you　wouldn't　start　these　religious　arguments。'
　　　　'I　didn't　start　it。'
　　　　'You　don't　convince　anyone　else　and　you　don't　really　convince　yourself。'
　　　　'I　only　want　to　know　what　these　people　believe。　They　say　it's　all　based　on　logic。'
　　　　'If　you'd　let　Bridey　finish；　he　would　have　made　it　all　quite　logical。'
　　　　'There　were　four　of　you；'　I　said。　'Cara　didn't　know　the　first　thing　it　was　about；　and　may　or　may　not　have　believed　it；　you　knew　a　bit　and　didn't　believe　a　word；　Cordelia　knew　about　as　much　and　believed　it　madly；　only　poor　Bridey　knew　and　believed；　and　I　thought　he　made　a　pretty　poor　show　when　it　came　to　explaining。　And　people　go　round　saying；　〃At　least　Catholics　know　what　they　believe。〃　We　had　a　fair　cross…section　tonight　…　'
　　　　'Oh；　Charles；　don't　rant。　I　shall　begin　to　think　you're　getting　doubts　yourself。'

　　　　The　weeks　passed　and　still　Lord　Marchmain　lived　on。　In　June　my　divorce　was　made　absolute　and　my　former　wife　married　for　the　second　time。　Julia　would　be　free　in　September。　The　nearer　our　marriage　got；　the　more　wistfully；　I　noticed；　Julia　spoke　of　it；　war　was　growing　nearer；　too　…　we　neither　of　us　doubted　that　…　but　Julia's　tender；　remote；　it　sometimes　seemed；　desperate　longing　did　not　e　from　any　uncertainty　outside　herself；　it　suddenly　darkened；　too；　into　brief　accesses　of　hate　when　she　seemed　to　throw　herself　against　the　restraints　of　her　love　for　me　like　a　caged　animal　against　the　bars。
　　　　I　was　summoned　to　the　War　Office；　interviewed；　and　put　on　a　list　in　case　of　emergency；　Cordelia　also；　on　another　list；　lists　were　being　part　of　our　lives　once　more；　as　they　had　been　at　school。　Everything　was　being　got　ready　for　the　ing　'Emergency'。　No　one　in　that　dark　office　spoke　the　word　'war'；　it　was　taboo；　we　should　be　called　for　if　there　was　'an　emergency'　…　not　in　case　of　strife；　an　act　of　human　will；　nothing　so　clear　and　simple　as　wrath　or　retribution；　an　emergency…　something　ing　out　of　the　waters；　a　monster　with　sightless　face　and　thrashing　tail　thrown　up　from　the　depths。
　　　　Lord　Marchmain　took　little　interest　in　events　outside　his　own　room；　we　took　him　the　papers　daily　and　made　the　attempt　to　read　to　him；　but　he　turned　his　head　on　the　pillows　and　with　his　eyes　followed　the　intricate　patterns　about　him。　'Shall　I　go　on？'　'Please　do　if　it's　not　boring　you。'　But　he　was　not　listening；　occasionally　at　a　familiar　name　he　would　whisper：　'Irwin。。。I　knew　him　…　a　mediocre　fellow'；　occasionally　some　remote　ment：　'Czechs　make　good　coachmen；　nothing　else'；　but　his　mind　was　far　from　world　affairs；　it　was　there；　on　the　spot；　turned　in　on　himself；　he　had　no　strength　for　any　other　war　than　his　own　solitary　struggle　to　keep　alive。
　　　　I　said　to　the　doctor；　who　was　with　us　daily。　'He's　got　a　wonderful　will　to　live；　hasn't　he？'
　　　　'Would　you　put　it　like　that？　I　should　say　a　great　fear　of　death。'
　　　　'Is　there　a　difference？'
　　　　'Oh　dear；　yes。　He　doesn't　derive　any　strength　from　his　fear；　you　know。　It's　wearing　him　out。'
　　　　Next　to　death；　perhaps　because　they　are　like　death；　he　feared　darkness　and　loneliness。　He　liked　to　have　us　in　his　room　and　the　lights　burnt　all　night　among　the　gilt　figures；　he　did　not　wish　us　to　speak　much；　but　he　talked　himself；　so　quietly　that　we　often　could　not　hear　him；　he　talked；　I　think；　because　his　was　the　only　voice　he　could　trust；　when　it　assured　him　that　he　was　still　alive；　what　he　said　was　not　for　us；　nor　for　any　ears　but　his　own。
　　　　'Better　today。　Better　today。　I　can　see　now；　in　the　er　of　the　fireplace；　where　the　mandarin　is　holding　his　gold　bell　and　the　crooked　tree　is　in　flower　below　his　feet；　where　yesterday　I　was　confused　and　took　the　little　tower　for　another　man。　Soon　I　shall　see　the　bridge　and　the　three　storks　and　know　where　the　path　leads　over　the　hill。
　　　　'Better　tomorrow。　We　live　long　in　our　family　and　marry　late。　Seventy…three　is　no　great　age。　Aunt　Julia；　my　father's　aunt；　lived　to　be　eighty…eight；　born　and　died　here；　never　married；　saw　the　fire　on　beacon　hill　for　the　battle　of　Trafalgar；　always　called　it　〃the　New　House〃；　that　was　the　name　they　had　for　it　in　the　nursery　and　in　the　fields　when　unlettere