iancaldwell&dustinthomason.theruleoffour-第25部分
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Gil turns back toward the stage; not wanting to resurrect the topic。
〃Saint Peter;〃 Taft continues; 〃by Michelangelo; around 1550。 Peter was martyred under Nero; crucified upside…down at his own request。 He was too humble to be crucified the same way as Christ。〃
Onstage; Professor Henderson looks unfortable; picking nervously at a spot on her sleeve。 Without any thread of argument connecting one slide to the next; Taft's presentation is beginning to seem less like a lecture than like a sadist's peep show。 The usual rumble of conversation in the auditorium on Good Fridays has dissolved into titillated silence。
〃Hey;〃 Gil says; tapping Paul's sleeve; 〃does Taft always talk about this stuff?〃
Paul nods。
〃He's a little off; isn't he?〃 Charlie whispers。
The two of them; having stayed out of Paul's academic life for so long; are noticing this for the first time。
Paul nods; but says nothing。
〃We arrive; then;〃 Taft continues; 〃at the Renaissance。 The home of a man who embraced the language of violence I have been trying to convey。 What I wish to share with you tonight is not a story he created by dying; but something of the mysterious story he created while still alive。 The man was an aristocrat from Rome named Francesco Colonna。 He wrote one of the rarest books ever printed: the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili。〃
Paul's eyes are fixed on Taft; pupils wide in the dark。
〃From Rome?〃 I whisper。
Paul looks at me; incredulous。 Before he can answer; though; there is an outburst at the entrance behind us。 A sharp; violent exchange has erupted between the girl at the door and a large man; as yet obscured。 Their voices are spilling through the lecture hall。
To my surprise; when the man emerges into the light; I recognize him at once。
Chapter 10
Against the loud protests of the blonde at the door; Richard Curry enters the auditorium。 Dozens of heads in the back of the room turn。 Curry scans the audience; then turns toward the stage。
This book; Taft continues in the background; oblivious to the motion; is perhaps the greatest remaining mystery of Western printing。
From all sides; awkward glances size up the intruder。 Curry looks disheveled: tie loose; jacket in hand; a dislocated look in his eyes。 Paul begins pushing his way through a small crowd of students。
It was published by the most famous press in all of Renaissance Italy; but even the identity of its author remains heavily debated。
〃What's that guy doing?〃 Charlie whispers。
Gil shakes his head。 〃Isn't that Richard Curry?〃
Now Paul is in the back row; trying to get Curry's attention。
It is considered by many to be not only the world's most misunderstood book; but also…perhaps only after the Gutenberg Bible…the world's most valuable。
Paul stands beside the man now。 He places a hand on Curry's back; almost cautiously; and whispers something; but the old man shakes his head。
〃I am here;〃 Curry says; loudly enough that people in the front row turn to get a glimpse; 〃to say something of my own。〃
By now Taft has stopped talking。 Every face in the hall is fixed on the stranger。 He reaches up and runs his hand over his head。 Glaring at Taft; he speaks again。
〃The language of violence?〃 he says; in a shrill; unfamiliar voice。 〃I heard this lecture thirty years ago; Vincent; when you thought I was your audience。〃 He turns to the crowd and spreads his arms; addressing them all。 〃Did he tell you about Saint Lawrence? Saint Quentin? Saint Elmo and the windlass? Hasn't anything changed; Vincent?〃
There are murmurs through the audience as people register Curry's scorn。 From one corner there is laughter。
〃This; my friends;〃 Curry continues; pointing at the stage; 〃is a hack。 A fool and a crook。〃 He turns to focus on Taft。 〃Even a charlatan can fool the same man twice; Vincent。 But you? You prey on the innocent。〃 He places his fingers to his lips and forms a kiss。 〃Bravissimo; il Fraudolento!〃 Lifting his arms; he encourages the audience to stand。 〃An ovation; my friends。 Three cheers for Saint Vincent; patron saint of thieves。〃
Taft meets the intrusion grimly。 〃Why have you e here; Richard?〃
〃They know each other?〃 Charlie whispers。
Paul is trying to distract Curry; telling him to stop; but Curry continues。
〃Why have you e here; old friend? Is this theater or scholarship? What will you steal this time; now that the portmaster's book is out of your hands?〃
At this; Taft lurches forward and booms; 〃Stop this。 What are you doing?〃
But Curry's voice escapes like a conjured spirit。 〃Where have you put the piece of leather from the diary; Vincent? Tell me and I'll leave。 You can carry on with this farce of yours。〃
The shadows of the lecture hall creep unpleasantly across Curry's face。 Professor Henderson finally shoots to her feet and barks; 〃Someone get security!〃
A proctor is already within arm's reach of Curry when Taft waves him off。 His self…possession has returned。
〃No;〃 the ogre growls。 〃Let him go。 He will leave of his own accord。 Won't you; Richard? Before they have to arrest you?〃
Curry is unmoved。 〃Look at us; Vincent。 Twenty…five years; and still waging the same war。 Tell me where the blueprint is and you won't see me again。 That's the only business we have anymore。 The rest of this〃…Curry sweeps his arms across the lecture hall; enpassing everything…〃is worthless。〃
〃Get out; Richard;〃 Taft says。
〃You and I tried and failed;〃 Curry continues。 〃What do the Italians say? There's no worse thief than a bad book。 Let's be men about it and step aside。 Where's the blueprint?〃
There are whispers all around。 The proctor edges between Curry and Paul…but to my surprise; Curry suddenly lowers his head and begins to move toward the far aisle。 The animation in his face disappears。
〃You old fool;〃 he says; addressing Taft even with his back toward the stage。 〃Act on。〃
Students against the wall push toward the front of the auditorium; keeping their distance。 Paul stands rooted to the spot; watching his friend depart。
〃Leave; Richard;〃 Taft instructs from the podium。 〃Don't return。〃
We all follow Curry's slow progress toward the exit。 The sophomore at the door watches with wide; fearful eyes。 In a moment he passes across the threshold; into the anteroom; and is gone from sight。
Intense murmuring seizes the lecture hall as soon as he has vanished。
〃What the hell was that?〃 I ask; looking back at the exit。
In our corner; Gil steps over toward Paul。
〃Are you okay?〃
Paul is fumbling。 〃I don't understand 。 。 。〃
Gil places an arm over his shoulder。 〃What did you say to him?〃
〃Nothing;〃 Paul says。 〃I have to go after him。〃 His hands are shaking; the diary still tucked between them。 〃I need to talk to him。〃
Charlie begins to protest; but Paul is too upset to argue。 Before any of us can insist otherwise; he turns and heads for the door。
〃I'll go with him;〃 I say to Charlie。
He nods。 Taft's voice has begun to roll again in the background; and when I look up at the stage on the way out; the giant seems to be staring directly at me。 From her seat; Katie catches my attention。 She mouths a question about Paul; but I can't understand what she's saying。 Zipping my coat; I head out of the auditorium。
In the courtyard; canopies lurch like skeletons in the dark; dancing on their peg legs。 The wind has softened; but the snow continues; thicker than before。 Around the corner I hear Paul's voice。
〃Are you okay?〃
I turn the corner。 Not ten feet away is Richard Curry; jacket fluttering in the wind。
〃What's wrong?〃 Paul asks。
〃Get back inside;〃 Curry says。
I step forward to hear more; but snow crunches beneath my feet。 Curry looks over; and their conversation halts。 I expect some spark of recognition in his eyes; but find none。 After putting his hand on Paul's shoulder; Curry slowly backs away。
〃Richard! Can't we talk somewhere?〃 Paul calls out。
But the old man distances himself quickly; slipping his arms into his suit jacket。 He doesn't answer。
It takes me a second to regain my wits and go to Paul's side。 Together we watch Curry disappear into the shadow of the chapel。
〃I need to find out where Bill got the diary;〃 he says。
〃Right now?〃
Paul n