第 3 节
作者:绝对零度      更新:2022-11-28 19:15      字数:9312
  artists。   But they had accomplished the impossible。             They had achieved
  deathless desire。
  〃And I?     I saw much of them and their everlasting miracle of Love。
  I puzzled and wondered; and then one day〃
  Carquinez broke off abruptly and asked; 〃Have you ever read; 'Love's
  Waiting Time'?〃
  I shook my head。
  〃Page wrote itCurtis Hidden Page; I think。           Well; it was that bit of
  verse that   gave   me the   clue。   One day; in   the   window…seat near   the big
  pianoyou remember how she could play?              She used to laugh; sometimes;
  and doubt whether it was for them I came; or for the music。                She called
  me    a  'music…sot'   once;   a  'sound…debauchee。'       What     a  voice   he  had!
  When   he   sang   I   believed   in   immortality;   my   regard   for   the   gods   grew
  almost patronizing and I devised ways and means whereby I surely could
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  WHEN GOD LAUGHS; AND OTHER STORIES
  outwit them and their tricks。
  〃It was a spectacle for God; that man and woman; years married; and
  singing   love…songs   with   a   freshness   virginal   as   new…born   Love   himself;
  with a ripeness   and wealth of ardour that   young lovers   can never   know。
  Young lovers   were pale   and anaemic   beside that   long…married pair。                  To
  see    them;   all  fire  and   flame    and   tenderness;     at  a  trembling     distance;
  lavishing     caresses    of  eye   and   voice    with   every   action;    through    every
  silencetheir love driving them toward each other; and they withholding
  like fluttering moths; each to the other a candle…flame; and revolving each
  about     the  other   in   the  mad    gyrations    of   an  amazing      orbit…flight!    It
  seemed;   in   obedience   to   some   great   law   of   physics;   more   potent   than
  gravitation and more subtle; that they must corporeally melt each into each
  there before my very eyes。 Small wonder they were called the wonderful
  lovers。
  〃I have wandered。         Now to the clue。         One day in the window…seat I
  found a book of verse。         It opened of itself; betraying long habit; to 'Love's
  Waiting Time。'        The page was thumbed and limp with overhandling; and
  there I read:
  〃'So sweet it is to stand but just apart;             To know each other better;
  and to keep        The soft; delicious sense of two that touch 。 。 。
  O love; not yet! 。 。 。      Sweet; let us keep our love           Wrapped round
  with   sacred   mystery   awhile;         Waiting   the   secret   of   the   coming   years;
  That come not yet; not yet 。 。 。 sometime 。 。 。 not yet 。 。 。
  Oh; yet a little while our love may grow!               When it has blossomed
  it will haply die。        Feed it with lipless kisses; let it sleep;             Bedded in
  dead denial yet some while 。 。 。           Oh; yet a little while; a little while。'
  〃I   folded   the   book   on   my   thumb   and   sat   there   silent   and   without
  moving   for   a   long   time。    I   was   stunned   by   the   clearness   of   vision   the
  verse   had   imparted   to   me。     It   was   illumination。     It   was   like   a   bolt   of
  God's lightning in the Pit。          They would keep Love; the fickle sprite; the
  forerunner of young lifeyoung life that is imperative to be born!
  〃I conned the lines over in my mind'Not yet; sometime''O Love; not
  yet''Feed it with lipless kisses; let it sleep。'        And I laughed aloud; ha; ha!
  I   saw   with    white   vision    their  blameless     souls。    They     were    children。
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  WHEN GOD LAUGHS; AND OTHER STORIES
  They   did   not   understand。       They   played   with   Nature's   fire   and   bedded
  with a naked   sword。         They laughed   at the gods。         They would stop   the
  cosmic sap。       They had invented a system; and brought it to the gaming…
  table of life; and expected to win out。            'Beware!' I cried。       'The gods are
  behind the table。       They make new rules for every system that is devised。
  You have no chance to win。'
  〃But I did not so cry to them。          I waited。     They would learn that their
  system  was   worthless   and   throw   it   away。       They   would   be   content   with
  whatever happiness the gods gave them and not strive to wrest more away。
  〃I watched。      I said nothing。       The months continued to come and go;
  and still the famine…edge of their love grew the sharper。                 Never did they
  dull it with a permitted love…clasp。           They ground and whetted it on self…
  denial;    and   sharper    and   sharper    it  grew。   This     went   on   until  even    I
  doubted。      Did   the   gods   sleep?     I   wondered。     Or   were   they   dead?      I
  laughed to myself。         The man and the woman had made a miracle。                   They
  had outwitted God。          They had shamed the flesh; and blackened the face
  of the good Earth Mother。            They had played with her fire and not been
  burned。      They     were   immune。       They     were   themselves      gods;   knowing
  good   from  evil   and   tasting   not。    'Was   this   the   way  gods   came   to   be?'   I
  asked   myself。      'I   am   a   frog;'   I   said。 'But   for   my   mud…   lidded   eyes   I
  should     have    been    blinded    by   the   brightness    of   this  wonder     I  have
  witnessed。       I   have    puffed    myself    up   with    my   wisdom      and    passed
  judgment upon gods。'
  〃Yet   even   in   this;   my   latest   wisdom;   I   was   wrong。  They   were   not
  gods。 They were man and womansoft clay that sighed and thrilled; shot
  through   with   desire;   thumbed   with   strange   weaknesses   which   the   gods
  have not。〃
  Carquinez   broke   from   his   narrative   to   roll   another   cigarette   and   to
  laugh   harshly。     It   was   not   a   pretty   laugh;   it   was   like   the   mockery   of   a
  devil; and it rose over and rode the roar of the storm that came muffled to
  our ears from the crashing outside world。
  〃I am a frog;〃 he said apologetically。           〃How were they to understand?
  They were artists; not biologists。           They knew the clay of the studio; but
  they   did   not   know   the   clay   of   which   they   themselves   were   made。    But
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  WHEN GOD LAUGHS; AND OTHER STORIES
  this I will saythey played high。           Never was there such a game before;
  and I doubt me if there will ever be such a game again。
  〃Never was lovers' ecstasy like theirs。           They had not killed Love with
  kisses。    They had quickened him with denial。              And by denial they drove
  him   on   till   he   was   all   aburst   with   desire。 And   the   flame…winged   lute…
  player fanned them with his warm wings till they were all but swooning。
  It   was   the   very   delirium   of   Love;   and   it   continued   undiminished   and
  increasing through the weeks and months。
  〃They longed and yearned; with all the fond pangs and sweet delicious
  agonies; with an intensity never felt by lovers before nor since。
  〃And then one day the drowsy gods ceased nodding。                     They aroused
  and looked at the man and woman who had made a mock of them。                           And
  the man and woman looked into each other's eyes one morning and knew
  that   something   was   gone。   It   was   the   flame…winged   one。       He   had   fled;
  silently; in the night; from their anchorites' board。
  〃They looked into each other's eyes and knew that they did not care。
  Desire was dead。        Do you understand?          Desire was dead。       And they had
  never kissed。      Not once had they kissed。          Love was gone。         They would
  never   yearn   and   burn   again。    For   them  there   was   nothing   leftno   more
  tremblings and flutterings and delicious anguishes; no more throbbing and
  pulsing;   and   sighing   and   song。     Desire   was   dead。     It   had   died   in   the
  night; on a couch cold and unattended; nor had they witnessed its passing。
  They learned it for the first time in each other's eyes。
  〃The gods   may  not be   kind; but they  are   often merciful。            They  had
  twirled the little ivory ball and swept the stakes from the table。                All that
  remained   was   the   man   and   woman   gazing   into   each   other's   cold   eyes。
  And then he died。         That was the mercy。         Within the week Marvin Fiske
  was dead you remember the accident。