brideshead+revisited-第64章
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in the dark church where only the old char…woman raises the dust and one candle burns； hanging at noon high among the crowds and the soldiers； no fort except a sponge of vinegar and the kind words of a thief； hanging for ever； never the cool sepulchre and the grave clothes spread on the stone slab； never the oil and spices in the dark cave； always the midday sun and the dice clicking for the seamless coat。
'No way back； the gates barred； all the saints and angels posted along the walls。 Thrown away； scrapped； rotting down； the old man with lupus and the forked stick who limps out at nightfall to turn the rubbish； hoping for something to put in his sack； something marketable； turns away with disgust。
'Nameless and dead； like the baby they wrapped up and took away before I had seen her。'
Between her tears she talked herself into silence。 I could do nothing； I was adrift in a strange sea； my hands on the metal…spun threads of her tunic were cold and stiff； my eyes dry； I was as far from her in spirit； as she clung to me in the darkness； as when years ago I had lit her cigarette on the way from the station； as far as when she was out of mind； in the dry； empty years at the Old Rectory； and in the jungle。
Tears spring from speech； presently in her silence her weeping stopped。 She sat up； away from me； took my handkerchief； shivered； rose to her feet。
'Well；' she said； in a voice much like normal。 'Bridey is one for bombshells； isn't he？'
I followed her into the house and to her room； she sat at her looking…glass。 'Considering that I've just recovered from a fit of hysteria；' she said； 'I don't call that at all bad。' Her eyes seemed unnaturally large and bright； her cheeks pale with two spots of high colour； where； as a girl； she used to put a dab of rouge。 'Most hysterical women look as if they had a bad cold。 You'd better change your shirt before going down； it's all tears and lipstick。'
'Are we going down？'
'Of course； we mustn't leave poor Bridey on his engagement night。'
When I went back to her she said： 'I'm sorry for that appalling scene； Charles。 I can't explain。'
Brideshead was in the library； smoking his pipe； placidly reading a detective story。
'Was it nice out？ If I'd known you were going I'd have e； too。'
'Rather cold。'
'I hope it's not going to be inconvenient for Rex moving out of here。 You see； Barton Street is much too small for us and the three children。 Besides； Beryl likes the country。 In his letter papa proposed making over the whole estate right away。'
I remembered how Rex had greeted me on my first arrival at Brideshead as Julia's guest。 'A very happy arrangement；' he had said。 'Suits me down to the ground。 The old boy keeps the place up； Bridey does all the feudal stuff with the tenants； I have the run of the house rent free。 All it costs me is the food and the wages of the indoor servants。 Couldn't ask fairer than that； could you？'
'I should think he'll be sorry to go；' I said。
'Oh； he'll find another bargain somewhere； ' said Julia； 'trust him。'
'Beryl's got some furniture of her own she's very attached to。 I don't know if it would go very well here。 You know； oak dressers and coffin stools and things。 I thought she could put it in mummy's old room。
'Yes； that would be the place。'
So brother and sister sat and talked about the arrangement of the house until bed…time。 'An hour ago；' I thought； 'in the black refuge in the box hedge； she wept her heart out for the death of her God； now she is discussing whether Beryl's children shall take the old smoking…room or the school…room for their own。' I was all at sea。
'Julia；' I said later； when Brideshead had gone upstairs； 'have you ever seen a picture of Holman Hunt's called 〃The Awakened Conscience〃 '
'No。'
I had seen a copy of Pre…Raphaelitism in the library some days before； I found it again and read her Ruskin's description。 She laughed quite happily。
'You're perfectly right。 That's exactly what I did feel。'
'But； darling； I won't believe that great spout of tears came just from a few words。of Bridey's。 You must have been thinking about it before。'
'Hardly at all； now and then； more； lately； with the Last Trump so near。'
'Of course it's a thing psychologists could explain； a preconditioning from childhood； feelings of guilt from the nonsense you were taught in the nursery。 You do know at heart that it's all bosh； don't you？'
'How I wish it was！'
'Sebastian once said almost the same thing to me。'
'He's gone back to the Church； you know。 Of course； he never left it as definitely as I did。 I've gone too far； there's no turning back now； I know that； if that's what you mean by thinking it all bosh。 All I can hope to do is to put my life in some sort of order in a human way； before all human order es to an end。 That's why I want to marry you。 I should like to have a child。 That's one thing I can do。。。Let's go out again。 The moon should be up by now。'
The moon was full and high。 We walked round the house； under the limes Julia paused and idly snapped off one of the long shoots； last year's growth； that fringed their boles； and stripped it as she walked； making a switch； as children do； but with petulant movements that were not a child's； snatching nervously at the leaves and crumbling them between her fingers； she began peeling the bark； scratching it with her nails。
Once more we stood by the fountain。
'It's like the setting of a edy；' I said。 'Scene： a Baroque fountain in a nobleman's grounds。 Act one； sunset； act two； dusk； act three； moonlight。 The characters keep assembling at the fountain for no very clear reason。'
'edy？'
'Drama。 Tragedy。 Farce。 What you will。 This is the reconciliation scene。'
'Was there a quarrel？'
'Estrangement and misunderstanding in act two。'
'Oh； don't talk in that damned bounderish way。 Why must you see everything second…hand？ Why must this be a play？ Why must my conscience be a Pre…Raphaelite picture？'
'It's a way I have。'
'I hate it。'
Her anger was as unexpected as every change on this evening of swift veering moods。 Suddenly she cut me across the face with her switch； a vicious； stinging little blow as hard as she could strike。
'Now do you see how I hate it？'
She hit me again。
'All right；' I said 'go on。'
Then； though her hand was raised； she stopped and threw the half…peeled wand into the water； where it floated white and black in the moonlight。
'Did that hurt？'
'Yes。'
'Did it？。。。Did I？'
In the instant her rage was gone； her tears； newly flowing； were on my cheek。 I held her at arm's length and she put down her head； stroking my hand on her shoulder with her face； catlike； but； unlike a cat； leaving a tear there。
'Cat on the roof…top；' I said。
'Beast！'
She bit at my hand； but when I did not move it and her teeth touched me； she changed the bite to a kiss； the kiss to a lick of her tongue。
'Cat in the moonlight。'
This was the mood I knew。 We turned towards the house。 When we came to the lighted hall she said： 'Your poor face；' touching the weals with her fingers。 'Will there be a mark tomorrow？'
'I expect so。'
'Charles； am I going crazy？ What's happened tonight？ I'm so tired。'
She yawned； a fit of yawning took her。 She sat at her dressing table； head bowed； hair over her face； yawning helplessly； when she looked up I saw over her shoulder in the glass a face that was dazed with weariness like a retreating soldier's； and beside it my own； streaked with two crimson lines。
'So tired；' she repeated；； taking off her gold tunic and letting it fall to the floor； 'tired and crazy and good for nothing。'
I saw her to bed； the blue lids fell over her eyes； her pale lips moved on the pillow but whether to wish me good night or to murmur a prayer … a jingle of the nursery that came to her now in the twilight world between sorrow and sleep： some ancient pious rhyme that had e down to Nanny Hawkins from centuries of bedtime whispering； through all the changes of language； from the days of pack…horses on the Pilgrim's Way … I did not know。
Next night Rex and his poli
