第 46 节
作者:想聊      更新:2021-02-19 00:37      字数:9322
  paralysis is crippling his hinder parts。〃
  Sir Walter patted the head of his ancient favorite。
  〃He dies on Friday;〃 he said。        〃The vet; will come then。        I assure you
  the thought gives me very genuine pain。〃
  〃He has earned euthanasia; surely。           What is that fine tree with great
  white   flowers?     I   have   seen   the   like   before;   but   am   sadly   ignorant   of
  horticulture。〃
  〃A    tulip…tree;〃   said   Mary。     〃It's   supposed      to  be   the   finest   in
  Devonshire。
  〃A beautiful object。      But all is beautiful here。      An English spring can
  be divine。     I shall ask you to drive me to primroses presently。 Those are
  azaleas … that bank of living fire … superb!〃
  He praised the scene; and spoke about the formal gardens of Italy。
  Then;   when   luncheon   was   finished   and   he   had   smoked   a   couple   of
  cigarettes; Signor Mannetti rose; bowed to Sir Walter; and said:
  〃Now; if you please。〃
  They accompanied and watched him silently; while his eyes wandered
  round the Grey Room。
  The place was unchanged; and the dancing cherubs on the great chairs
  seemed to welcome daylight after their long darkness。
  The visitor wandered slowly from end to end of the chamber; nodded
  to   himself;    and   became     animated。      Then     he  checked     his   gathering
  excitement; and presently spoke。
  〃I think I am going to help you; Sir Walter;〃 he said。
  〃That is great and good news; signor。〃
  Then the old man became inconsequent; and turned from the room to
  the contents。     If; indeed; he had found a clue; he appeared in no haste to
  pursue it。    He entered now upon a disquisition concerning the furniture;
  and    they   listened   patiently;   for  he   had   showed    that   any   interruption
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  troubled him。       But it seemed that he enjoyed putting a strain upon their
  impatience。
  〃Beautiful pieces;〃 he said; 〃but not Spanish; as you led me to suppose。
  Spanish chestnut wood; but nothing else Spanish about them。                       They are
  of the Italian Renaissance; and it is most seemly that Italian craftsmanship
  of such high order should repose here; under an Italian ceiling。                   Strange
  to   say;   my   sleeping   apartment   at   Rome   closely   resembles   this   room。      I
  live   in   a   villa   that   dates   from   the   fifteenth   century;   and   belonged   to   the
  Colonna。      My chests are more superb than these; but your suite … the bed
  and chairs … I confess are better than mine。              There is; however; a reason
  for that。 Let us examine them for the sake of Mrs。 May。                 Are these carved
  chairs;  with   their   reliefs   of   dancing   putti;   familiar   to   her   …   the   figures;   I
  mean?〃
  Mary shook her head。
  〃Then   it   is   certain   that  in   your   Italian   wanderings   you   did not   go   to
  Prato。     These   groups   of   children   dancing   and   blowing   horns   are   very
  cleverly copied from Donatello's famous pulpit in the duomo。 The design
  is carried on from the chairs to the footboard of the bed; but in their midst
  upon the footboard is let in this oval; easel…picture; painted on wood。                    It
  is faded; and the garlands have withered in so many hundred years; as well
  they might; but I can feel the dead color quite well; and I also know who
  painted it。〃
  〃Is it possible; signor … this faint ghost of a picture?〃
  〃There exists no doubt at all。          You see a little Pinturicchio。 Note the
  gay bands of variegated patterns; the arabesques and fruits。                   Their hues
  have vanished; but their forms and certain mannerisms of the master are
  unmistakable。        These   dainty   decorations   were   the   sign   manual   of   such
  quattrocento painters as Gozzoli and Pinturicchio; and to these men he; for
  whom       these   works     of  art   were    created;    assigned    the   painting    and
  adornment   of   the   Vatican。      We   will   come   to   him   directly。    It   was   for
  Michelangelo to make the creations of these artists mere colored bubbles
  and   froth;   when   seen   against   the   immensity  and   intellectual   grandeur   of
  his future masterpieces in the Sistine。           But that was afterwards。          We are
  concerned with the Pope for whom these chairs and this bed were made。
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  Yes; a Pope; my friends … no less a personage than Alexander VI。!〃
  He    waited;    like  a   skilled   actor;  for   the  tremendous       sensation    he
  expected      and   deserved。     But    it  did  not  come。     Unhappily   for      Signor
  Mannetti's great moment; his words conveyed no particular impression to
  anybody。
  Sir Walter asked politely:
  〃And was he a good; or a bad Pope?               I fear many of those gentlemen
  had little to their credit。〃
  But the signor felt the failure of his great climax。           At first he regretted
  it;  and   a   wave   of   annoyance;  even   contempt;   passed   unseen   through   his
  mind; then he was glad that the secret should be hidden for another four…
  and…twenty       hours;   to  gain   immensely      in  dramatic     sensation    by   delay。
  Already he was planning the future; and designing wonderful histrionics。
  He could not be positive that he was right; though now the old man felt
  very little doubt。
  He did not answer Sir Walter's question; but asked one himself。
  〃The   detectives   examined   this   apartment   with   meticulous   care;   you
  say?〃
  〃They did indeed。〃
  〃And yet what can care and zeal do; what can the most conscientious
  student     achieve    if  his  activities   are   confounded      by   ignorance?      The
  amazing      thing   to   me   is  that  nobody     should    have    had   the   necessary
  information to lead them at least in the right direction。               And yet I run on
  too   fast。   After   all;   who   shall   be   blamed;   for   it   is;   of   course;   the   Grey
  Room   and   nothing   but   the   Grey   Room   we   are   concerned   with。         Am   I
  right?    The Grey Room has the evil fame?〃
  〃Certainly it has。〃
  〃And yet a little knowledge of a few peculiar facts … a pinch of history
  …   yet;   once   again;   who   shall   be   blamed?    Who   can   be   fairly   asked   to
  possess that pinch of history which means so much in this room?〃
  〃How could history have helped us; signor?〃 asked Henry Lennox。
  〃I   shall   tell   you。 But   history   is   always   helpful。    There   is   history
  everywhere   around   us   …   not   only  here;   but   in   every  other   department   of
  this noble house。        Take these chairs。       By the accident of training; I read
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  in them a whole chapter of the beginnings of the Renaissance; to you they
  are   only   old   furniture。   You   thought   them   Spanish   because   they   were
  bought in Spain … at Valencia; as a matter of fact。            You did not know that;
  Sir Walter; but your grandfather purchased them there … to the despair and
  envy of another collector。         Yes; these chairs have speaking faces to me;
  just as the ceiling over them has a speaking face also。               It; too; is copied。
  History; in fact; breathes its very essence in this home。               If I knew more
  history than I do; then other beautiful things would talk to me as freely as
  these chairs … and as freely as the trophies of the chase and the tiger skins
  below no   doubt talk   to  Sir Walter。       But   are we  not   all historical   …  men;
  women; even children?           To exist is to take your place in history; though;
  as in my case; the fact will not be recorded save in the 'Chronicles' of the
  everlasting。     Yes; I am ancient history now; and go far back; before Italy
  was   a   united   kingdom。     Much   entertainng   information   will   be   lost   for
  ever when I die。       Believe me; while the new generation is crying forth the
  new knowledge and glorying in its genius; we of the old guard are sinking
  into   our   graves   and   taking   the   old   knowledge   with   us。   Yet   they   only
  rediscover for themselves what we know。                Human life is the snake with
  its tail in its mouth … Nietzsche's eternal recurrenceand the commonplaces
  of    our   forefathers    are  echoed     on  the   lips  of   our   children   as   great
  disco