the colour of life(生命之色)-第17章
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the most probable thing to be said of her eyes was that they were grey and
expressive。 Thus； after seeing them； does he describe them in one of his
letters。 Whereas Mrs Gaskell； who shows signs of attention； says that
Charlotte's eyes were a reddish hazel； made up of 〃a great variety of tints；〃
to be discovered by close looking。 Almost all eves that are not brown are；
in fact； of some such mixed colour； generally spotted in； and the effect is
vivacious。 All the more if the speckled iris has a dark ring to enclose it。
Nevertheless； the eye of mixed colour has always a definite character；
and the mingling that looks green is quite unlike the mingling that looks
grey； and among the greys there is endless difference。 Brown eyes alone
are apart； unlike all others； but having no variety except in the degrees of
their darkness。
The colour of eyes seems to be significant of temperament； but as
regards beauty there is little or nothing to choose among colours。 It is not
the eye； but the eyelid； that is important； beautiful； eloquent； full of secrets。
The eye has nothing but its colour； and all colours are fine within fine
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eyelids。 The eyelid has all the form； all the drawing； all the breadth and
length； the square of great eyes irregularly wide； the long corners of
narrow eyes； the pathetic outward droop； the delicate contrary suggestion
of an upward turn at the outer corner； which Sir Joshua loved。
It is the blood that is eloquent； and there is no sign of blood in the eye；
but in the eyelid the blood hides itself and shows its signs。 All along its
edges are the little muscles； living； that speak not only the obvious and
emphatic things； but what reluctances； what perceptions； what ambiguities；
what half… apprehensions； what doubts； what interceptions！ The eyelids
confess； and reject； and refuse to reject。 They have expressed all things
ever since man was man。
And they express so much by seeming to hide or to reveal that which
indeed expresses nothing。 For there is no message from the eye。 It has
direction； it moves； in the service of the sense of sight； it receives the
messages of the world。 But expression is outward； and the eye has it not。
There are no windows of the soul； there are only curtains； and these show
all things by seeming to hide a little more； a little less。 They hide nothing
but their own secrets。
But； some may say； the eyes have emotion inasmuch as they betray it
by the waxing and contracting of the pupils。 It is； however； the rarest
thing； this opening and narrowing under any influences except those of
darkness and light。 It does take place exceptionally； but I am doubtful
whether those who talk of it have ever really been attentive enough to
perceive it。 A nervous woman； brown…eyed and young； who stood to tell
the news of her own betrothal； and kept her manners exceedingly
composed as she spoke； had this waxing and closing of the pupils； it went
on all the time like a slow； slow pulse。 But such a thing is not to be seen
once a year。
Moreover； it is … though so significant … hardly to be called expression。
It is not articulate。 It implies emotion； but does not define； or describe； or
divide it。 It is touching； insomuch as we have knowledge of the
perturbed tide of the spirit that must cause it； but it is not otherwise
eloquent。 It does not tell us the quality of the thought； it does not inform
and surprise as with intricacies。 It speaks no more explicit or delicate
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things than does the pulse in its quickening。 It speaks with less division
of meanings than does the taking of the breath； which has impulses and
degrees。
No； the eyes do their work； but do it blankly； without communication。
Openings into the being they may be； but the closed cheek is more
communicative。 From them the blood of Perdita never did look out。 It
ebbed and flowed in her face； her dance； her talk。 It was hiding in her
paleness； and cloistered in her reserve； but visible in prison。 It leapt and
looked； at a word。 It was conscious in the fingers that reached out
flowers。 It ran with her。 It was silenced when she hushed her answers to
the king。 Everywhere it was close behind the doors … everywhere but in
her eyes。
How near at hand was it； then； in the living eyelids that expressed her
in their minute and instant and candid manner！ All her withdrawals；
every hesitation； fluttered there。 A flock of meanings and intelligences
alighted on those mobile edges。
Think； then； of all the famous eyes in the world； that said so much； and
said it in no other way but only by the little exquisite muscles of their lids。
How were these ever strong enough to bear the burden of those eyes of
Heathcliff's in 〃Wuthering Heights〃？ 〃The clouded windows of Hell
flashed a moment towards me； the fiend which usually looked out；
however； was so dimmed and drowned … 〃 That mourning fiend； who had
wept all night； had no expression； no proof or sign of himself； except in
the edges of the eyelids of the man。
And the eyes of Garrick？ Eyelids； again。 And the eyes of Charles
Dickens； that were said to contain the life of fifty men？ On the
mechanism of the eyelids hung that fifty…fold vitality。 〃Bacon had a
delicate； lively； hazel eye；〃 says Aubrey in his 〃Lives of Eminent Persons。〃
But nothing of this belongs to the eye except the colour。 Mere brightness
the eyeball has or has not； but so have many glass beads： the liveliness is
the eyelid's。 〃Dr Harvey told me it was like the eie of a viper。〃 So
intent and narrowed must have been the attitude of Bacon's eyelids。
〃I never saw such another eye in a human； head；〃 says Scott in
describing Burns； 〃though I have seen the most distinguished men in my
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time。 It was large； and of a dark cast； and glowed （I say literally glowed）
when he spoke with feeling or interest。 The eye alone； I think； indicated
the poetical character and temperament。〃 No eye literally glows； but some
eyes are polished a little more； and reflect。 And this is the utmost that
can possibly have been true as to the eyes of Burns。 But set within the
meanings of impetuous eyelids the lucidity of the dark eyes seemed
broken； moved； directed into fiery shafts。
See； too； the reproach of little； sharp； grey eyes addressed to Hazlitt。
There are neither large nor small eyes； say physiologists； or the difference
is so small as to be negligeable。 But in the eyelids the difference is great
between large and small； and also between the varieties of largeness。
Some have large ope
