the new machiavelli-第32章

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distant　railway　to　Luino；　the　busy　boats　and　steamers　trailing　

triangular　wakes　of　foam；　the　long　vista　eastward　towards　

battlemented　Bellinzona；　the　vast　mountain　distances；　now　tinged　

with　sunset　light；　behind　this　nearer　landscape；　and　the　southward　

waters　with　remote　coast　towns　shining　dimly；　waters　that　merged　at　

last　in　a　luminous　golden　haze；　made　a　broad　panoramic　spectacle。　　

It　was　as　if　one　surveyed　the　world；and　it　was　like　the　games　I　

used　to　set　out　upon　my　nursery　floor。　　I　was　exalted　by　it；　I　felt　

larger　than　men。　　So　kings　should　feel。



That　sense　of　largness　came　to　me　then；　and　it　has　come　to　me　since；　

again　and　again；　a　splendid　intimation　or　a　splendid　vanity。　　Once；　

I　remember；　when　I　looked　at　Genoa　from　the　mountain　crest　behind　

the　town　and　saw　that　multitudinous　place　in　all　its　beauty　of　width　

and　abundance　and　clustering　human　effort；　and　once　as　I　was　

steaming　past　the　brown　low　hills　of　Staten　Island　towards　the　

towering　vigour　and　clamorous　vitality　of　New　York　City；　that　mood　

rose　to　its　quintessence。　　And　once　it　came　to　me；　as　I　shall　tell；　

on　Dover　cliffs。　　And　a　hundred　times　when　I　have　thought　of　England　

as　our　country　might　be；　with　no　wretched　poor；　no　wretched　rich；　a　

nation　armed　and　ordered；　trained　and　purposeful　amidst　its　vales　

and　rivers；　that　emotion　of　collective　ends　and　collective　purposes　

has　returned　to　me。　　I　felt　as　great　as　humanity。　　For　a　brief　

moment　I　was　humanity；　looking　at　the　world　I　had　made　and　had　still　

to　make。　。　。　。







12





And　mingled　with　these　dreams　of　power　and　patriotic　service　there　

was　another　series　of　a　different　quality　and　a　different　colour；　

like　the　antagonistic　colour　of　a　shot　silk。　　The　white　life　and　the　

red　life；　contrasted　and　interchanged；　passing　swiftly　at　a　turn　

from　one　to　another；　and　refusing　ever　to　mingle　peacefully　one　with　

the　other。　　I　was　asking　myself　openly　and　distinctly：　what　are　you　

going　to　do　for　the　world？　　What　are　you　going　to　do　with　yourself？　

and　with　an　increasing　strength　and　persistence　Nature　in　spite　of　

my　averted　attention　was　asking　me　in　penetrating　undertones：　what　

are　you　going　to　do　about　this　other　fundamental　matter；　the　beauty　

of　girls　and　women　and　your　desire　for　them？



I　have　told　of　my　sisterless　youth　and　the　narrow　circumstances　of　

my　upbringing。　　It　made　all　women…kind　mysterious　to　me。　　If　it　had　

not　been　for　my　Staffordshire　cousins　I　do　not　think　I　should　have　

known　any　girls　at　all　until　I　was　twenty。　　Of　Staffordshire　I　will　

tell　a　little　later。　　But　I　can　remember　still　how　through　all　those　

ripening　years；　the　thought　of　women's　beauty；　their　magic　presence　

in　the　world　beside　me　and　the　unknown；　untried　reactions　of　their　

intercourse；　grew　upon　me　and　grew；　as　a　strange　presence　grows　in　a　

room　when　one　is　occupied　by　other　things。　　I　busied　myself　and　

pretended　to　be　wholly　occupied；　and　there　the　woman　stood；　full　

half　of　life　neglected；　and　it　seemed　to　my　averted　mind　sometimes　

that　she　was　there　clad　and　dignified　and　divine；　and　sometimes　

Aphrodite　shining　and　commanding；　and　sometimes　that　Venus　who　

stoops　and　allures。



This　travel　abroad　seemed　to　have　released　a　multitude　of　things　in　

my　mind；　the　clear　air；　the　beauty　of　the　sunshine；　the　very　blue　of　

the　glaciers　made　me　feel　my　body　and　quickened　all　those　

disregarded　dreams。　　I　saw　the　sheathed　beauty　of　women's　forms　all　

about　me；　in　the　cheerful　waitresses　at　the　inns；　in　the　pedestrians　

one　encountered　in　the　tracks；　in　the　chance　fellow　travellers　at　

the　hotel　tables。　　〃Confound　it！〃　said　I；　and　talked　all　the　more　

zealously　of　that　greater　England　that　was　calling　us。



I　remember　that　we　passed　two　Germans；　an　old　man　and　a　tall　fair　

girl；　father　and　daughter；　who　were　walking　down　from　Saas。　　　She　

came　swinging　and　shining　towards　us；　easy　and　strong。　　I　worshipped　

her　as　she　approached。



〃Gut　Tag！〃　said　Willersley；　removing　his　hat。



〃Morgen！〃　said　the　old　man；　saluting。



I　stared　stockishly　at　the　girl；　who　passed　with　an　indifferent　

face。



That　sticks　in　my　mind　as　a　picture　remains　in　a　room；　it　has　kept　

there　bright　and　fresh　as　a　thing　seen　yesterday；　for　twenty　

years。　。　。　。



I　flirted　hesitatingly　once　or　twice　with　comely　serving　girls；　and　

was　a　little　ashamed　lest　Willersley　should　detect　the　keen　interest　

I　took　in　them；　and　then　as　we　came　over　the　pass　from　Santa　Maria　

Maggiore　to　Cannobio；　my　secret　preoccupation　took　me　by　surprise　

and　flooded　me　and　broke　down　my　pretences。



The　women　in　that　valley　are　very　beautifulwomen　vary　from　valley　

to　valley　in　the　Alps　and　are　plain　and　squat　here　and　divinities　

five　miles　awayand　as　we　came　down　we　passed　a　group　of　five　or　

six　of　them　resting　by　the　wayside。　　Their　burthens　were　beside　

them；　and　one　like　Ceres　held　a　reaping　hook　in　her　brown　hand。　　She　

watched　us　approaching　and　smiled　faintly；　her　eyes　at　mine。



There　was　some　greeting；　and　two　of　them　laughed　together。



We　passed。



〃Glorious　girls　they　were；〃　said　Willersley；　and　suddenly　an　immense　

sense　of　boredom　enveloped　me。　　I　saw　myself　striding　on　down　that　

winding　road；　talking　of　politics　and　parties　and　bills　of　

parliament　and　all　sorts　of　dessicated　things。　　That　road　seemed　to　

me　to　wind　on　for　ever　down　to　dust　and　infinite　dreariness。　　I　knew　

it　for　a　way　of　death。　　Reality　was　behind　us。



Willersley　set　himself　to　draw　a　sociological　moral。　　〃I'm　not　so　

sure；〃　he　said　in　a　voice　of　intense　discriminations；　〃after　all；　

that　agricultural　work　isn't　good　for　women。〃



〃Damn　agricultural　work！〃　I　said；　and　broke　out　into　a　vigorous　

cursing　of　all　I　held　dear。　　〃Fettered　things　we　are！〃　I　cried。　　〃I　

wonder　why　I　stand　it！〃



〃Stand　what？〃



〃Why　don't　I　go　back　and　make　love　to　those　girls　and　let　the　world　

and　you　and　everything　go　hang？　　Deep　breasts　and　rounded　limbsand　

we　poor　emasculated　devils　go　tramping　by　with　the　blood　of　youth　in　

us！　。　。　。〃



〃I'm　not　quite　sure；　Remington；〃　said　Willersley；　looking　at　me　with　

a　deliberately　quaint　expression　over　his　glasses；　〃that　picturesque　

scenery　is　altogether　good　for　your　morals。〃



That　fever　was　still　in　my　blood　when　we　came　to　Locarno。







13





Along　the　hot　and　dusty　lower　road　between　the　Orrido　of　Traffiume　

and　Cannobio　Willersley　had　developed　his　first　blister。　　And　partly　

because　of　that　and　partly　because　there　was　a　bag　at　the　station　

that　gave　us　the　refreshment　of　clean　linen　and　partly　because　of　

the　lazy　lower　air　into　which　we　had　come；　we　decided　upon　three　or　

four　days'　sojourn　in　the　Empress　Hotel。



We　dined　that　night　at　a　table…d'hote；　and　I　found　myself　next　to　an　

Englishwoman　who　began　a　conversation　that　was　resumed　presently　in　

the　hotel　lounge。　　She　was　a　woman　of　perhaps　thirty…three　or　

thirty…four；　slenderly　built；　with　a　warm　reddish　skin　and　very　

abundant　fair　golden　hair；　the　wife　of　a　petulant…looking　heavy…

faced　man　of　perhaps　fifty…three；　who　smoked　a　cigar　and　dozed　over　

his　coffee　and　presently　went　to　bed。　　〃He　always　goes　to　bed　like　

that；〃　she　confided　startlingly。　　〃He　sleeps　after　all　his　meals。　　I　

never　knew　such　a　man　to　sleep。〃



Then　she　returned　to　our　talk；　whatever　it　was。



We　had　begun　at　the　dinner　table　with　itineraries　and　the　usual　

topographical　talk；　and　she　had　envied　our　pedestrian　travel。　　〃My　

husband　doesn't　walk；〃　she　said。　　〃His　heart　is　weak　and　he　cannot　

manage　the　hills。〃



There　was　something　friendly　and　adventurous　in　her　manner；　she　

conveyed　she　liked　me；　and　when　presently　Willersley　drifted　off　to　

write　letters　our　talk　sank　at　once　to　easy　confidential　undertones。　　

I　felt　enterprising；　and　indeed　it　is　easy　to　be　daring　with　people　

one　has　never　seen　before　and　may　never　see　again。　　I　said　I　loved　

beautiful　s