雙語·面紗 第六十六章

They sauntered along the causeway till they came to the top of the hill on which stood that archway, the memorial to a virtuous widow, which had occupied so large a part of Kitty's impression of the place. It was a symbol, but of what she scarcely knew; she could not tell why it bore a note of so sardonic irony.

“Shall we sit down a little? We haven't sat here for ages.” The plain was spread before her widely; it was tranquil and serene in the morning light. “It's only a few weeks that I've been here and it seems a lifetime.”

He did not answer and for a while she allowed her thoughts to wander. She gave a sigh.

“Do you think that the soul is immortal?” she asked.

He did not seem surprised at the question.

“How should I know?”

“Just now, when they'd washed Walter, before they put him into the coffin, I looked at him. He looked very young. Too young to die. Do you remember that beggar that we saw the first time you took me for a walk? I was frightened not because he was dead, but because he looked as though he'd never been a human being. He was just a dead animal. And now again, with Walter, it looked so like a machine that has run down. That's what is so frightening. And if it is only a machine how futile is all this suffering and the heart pains and the misery.”

He did not answer, but his eyes travelled over the landscape at their feet. The wide expanse on that gay and sunny morning filled the heart with exultation. The trim little rice-fields stretched as far as the eye could see and in many of them the blue-clad peasants with their buffaloes were working industriously. It was a peaceful and a happy scene. Kitty broke the silence.

“I can't tell you how deeply moved I've been by all I've seen at the convent. They're wonderful, those nuns, they make me feel utterly worthless. They give up everything, their home, their country, love, children, freedom; and all the little things which I sometimes think must be harder still to give up, flowers and green fields, going for a walk on an autumn day, books and music, comfort, everything they give up, everything. And they do it so that they may devote themselves to a life of sacrifice and poverty, obedience, killing work and prayer. To all of them this world is really and truly a place of exile. Life is a cross which they willingly bear, but in their hearts all the time is the desire--oh, it's so much stronger than desire, it's a longing, an eager, passionate longing for the death which shall lead them to life everlasting.”

Kitty clasped her hands and looked at him with anguish.

“Well?”

“Supposing there is no life everlasting? Think what it means if death is really the end of all things. They've given up all for nothing. They've been cheated. They're dupes.”

Waddington reflected for a little while.

“I wonder. I wonder if it matters that what they have aimed at is illusion. Their lives are in themselves beautiful. I have an idea that the only thing which makes it possible to regard this world we live in without disgust is the beauty which now and then men create out of the chaos. The pictures they paint, the music they compose, the books they write, and the lives they lead. Of all these the richest in beauty is the beautiful life. That is the perfect work of art.”

Kitty sighed. What he said seemed hard. She wanted more.

“Have you ever been to a symphony concert?” he continued.

“Yes,” she smiled. “I know nothing of music, but I'm rather fond of it.”

“Each member of the orchestra plays his own little instrument, and what do you think he knows of the complicated harmonies which unroll themselves on the indifferent air? He is concerned only with his own small share. But he knows that the symphony is lovely, and though there's none to hear it, it is lovely still, and he is content to play his part.”

“You spoke of Tao the other day,” said Kitty, after a pause. “Tell me what it is.”

Waddington gave her a little look, hesitated an instant, and then with a faint smile on his comic face answered:

“It is the Way and the Waygoer. It is the eternal road along which walk all beings, but no being made it, for itself is being. It is everything and nothing. From it all things spring, all things conform to it, and to it at last all things return. It is a square without angles, a sound which ears cannot hear, and an image without form. It is a vast net and though its meshes are as wide as the sea it lets nothing through. It is the sanctuary where all things find refuge. It is nowhere, but without looking out of the window you may see it. Desire not to desire, it teaches, and leave all things to take their course. He that humbles himself shall be preserved entire. He that bends shall be made straight. Failure is the foundation of success and success is the lurking-place of failure; but who can tell when the turning point will come? He who strives after tenderness can become even as a little child. Gentleness brings victory to him who attacks and safety to him who defends. Mighty is he who conquers himself.”

“Does it mean anything?”

“Sometimes, when I've had half a dozen whiskies and look at the stars, I think perhaps it does.”

Silence fell upon them and when it was broken it was again by Kitty.

“Tell me, is the dog it was that died, a quotation?”

Waddington's lips outlined a smile and he was ready with his answer. But perhaps at that moment his sensibilities were abnormally acute. Kitty was not looking at him, but there was something about her expression which made him change his mind.

“If it is I don't know it,” he answered warily. “Why?”

“Nothing. It crossed my mind. It had a familiar ring.”

There was another silence.

“When you were alone with your husband,” said Waddington presently, “I had a talk with the regimental surgeon. I thought we ought to have some details.”

“Well?”

“He was in a very hysterical state. I couldn't really quite understand what he meant. So far as I can make out your husband got infected during the course of experiments he was making.”

“He was always experimenting. He wasn't really a doctor, he was a bacteriologist; that is why he was so anxious to come here.”

“But I can't quite make out from the surgeon's statements whether he was infected accidentally or whether he was actually experimenting on himself.”

Kitty grew very pale. The suggestion made her shudder. Waddington took her hand.

“Forgive me for talking about this again,” he said gently, “but I thought it might comfort you--I know how frightfully difficult it is on these occasions to say anything that is of the least use--I thought it might mean something to you that Walter died a martyr to science and to his duty.”

Kitty shrugged her shoulders with a suspicion of impatience.

“Walter died of a broken heart,” she said.

Waddington did not answer. She turned and looked at him slowly. Her face was white and set.

“What did he mean by saying: the dog it was that died? What is it?”

“It's the last line of Goldsmith's Elegy”.

他們沿著山間小路慢慢走著，一直走到山頂，來到牌坊矗立的地方。這個致敬忠貞寡婦的紀(jì)念碑占據(jù)了凱蒂對此地的大部分印象，它是一個象征，但象征什么她又不知道，也說不出為什么她感覺它有種諷刺挖苦的意味。

“我們能在這兒坐一會兒嗎？我們有好長時間沒來這兒了?！鄙较碌钠降卦谒矍把泳d開闊，在上午的陽光下顯得恬靜和安詳，“距離上次來這兒也就有幾周的時間，可好像過了一輩子那樣長?！?/p>

他沒有回答，過了一會兒她繼續(xù)讓她的思緒漫游，然后嘆了口氣。

“你是不是認為靈魂是不朽的？”她問道。

對這個問題，他似乎毫不奇怪。

“我怎么知道？”

“就在剛才，當(dāng)他們給沃爾特擦洗身子，在他們把他放入棺材之前，我看著他。他看上去非常年輕，可惜這么早就死了。你還記得你第一次帶我散步時，我們見到的那個死去的乞丐嗎？我很害怕倒不是因為他已經(jīng)死去，而是因為他看上去都沒有人形了，像是一個死去的動物?，F(xiàn)在，我再一次見證死亡落到了沃爾特身上，他就像個機器突然停擺了，這才是嚇人的地方。但如果是機器倒好了，所有的痛苦、酸楚、悲傷都不算什么了?！?/p>

他沒有回答，但他的眼睛四下瀏覽眺望著腳下的風(fēng)景，景色在歡快、陽光燦爛的上午綿延著，讓人心花怒放。整齊劃一的小塊稻田伸展到目光所能到達的遠方，在田里，穿著藍色布衣的農(nóng)民趕著水牛在勤勞地耕作。這是一片和平、幸福的景象。凱蒂打破了沉默。

“我無法告訴你我在修道院里看到的一切是多么讓我感動。她們真是太棒了，那些修女，她們讓我覺得自己是多么的渺小。她們放棄了一切，家庭、國家、愛人、孩子、自由，還有所有其他的小東西，我有時想想，這些小東西可能更難放棄，花朵、綠色的田野、秋日里的漫步、書籍和音樂、舒服的生活，她們放棄了一切，所有的東西。而她們?yōu)橹度氲挠质鞘裁茨兀繝奚?、貧窮、聽從吩咐、繁重的工作、祈禱。對于她們所有人來說，這個世界確確實實是個流放之地，生活是她們愿意忍受的十字架，但是在她們的心中，一直都有一個愿望——哦，比愿望要更為強烈，那是一種向往，一種渴望的、充滿激情的向往，向往著死亡會引導(dǎo)她們走向永恒的生活?！?/p>

凱蒂握緊雙手，痛苦地望著他。

“怎么啦？”

“假如沒有永恒的生活呢？試想如果死亡真的是萬事的終結(jié)，那還有什么意義。她們放棄了一切去追求虛無，她們被騙了，她們都上當(dāng)了?！?/p>

威廷頓思索了一會兒。

“我想搞明白，我懷疑她們所追求的東西是否都是鏡花水月。她們的生活本身是美麗的。我有一種想法，能夠使我們生活的這個世界有可能看上去美麗，而沒有任何厭惡的東西，唯一能做的事情就是人們時不時地要在混亂中創(chuàng)造出美的事物，他們畫的畫，創(chuàng)作的音樂，寫的書，以及過的生活。其中最為豐富的美就是美麗的生活，那是完美的藝術(shù)作品?！?/p>

凱蒂嘆了一口氣，他的話似乎很晦澀，但她還想聽下去。

“你聽過交響樂的音樂會嗎？”他繼續(xù)說道。

“是的?！彼χf，“我對音樂一竅不通，但我還是很喜歡的?！?/p>

“樂隊的每位成員都在演奏自己的樂器，你認為他們知道在互不關(guān)心的氣氛中音樂逐漸展開時各部分復(fù)雜的和諧嗎？他們其實只關(guān)心自己那部分，但是他們知道整首交響樂是動聽的，即便沒人注意聽，但它依然是動聽的，所以他們只需心滿意足地演奏自己的部分就行了?！?/p>

“你在有一天曾經(jīng)談到了‘道’?！蓖ｎD了一會兒，凱蒂說道，“告訴我什么是‘道’?！?/p>

威廷頓看了她一眼，猶豫了片刻，隨后在他充滿喜劇色彩的臉上露出淡淡的微笑，他回答道：

“道就是路和行路人。它是永恒的道路，萬物都在沿著它運行，但是，道不是被創(chuàng)造出來的，因為它本身就存在于萬物之中。道是一切，又是虛無。從道中萬物萌生，萬物又順從道的規(guī)律，而且萬物最終歸于道。它是方形但沒有棱角，它是一種聲音但耳朵又聽不見，它是一種形象但沒有形式。道是一張巨大的網(wǎng)，雖然它的網(wǎng)孔像大海一樣寬闊，但它不會讓任何東西通過它。道是圣殿，在這里萬物都可以得到庇護。道是烏有鄉(xiāng)，但不用向窗外看，你就能看見它。不管是否愿意，道在教人，讓萬物按照既定的軌道行進。道把自己變得謙卑，但能夠容納全部。道先彎曲，然后才能變直。失敗是成功的基礎(chǔ)，成功是失敗的蟄伏之地。但誰能說得清不定什么時候轉(zhuǎn)折點就會到來呢？力求溫和的人可能會平和如孩童。不卑不亢能夠使進攻的人獲勝，使防守的人安全。能夠征服自己的人才是最強有力的人?！?/p>

“道意味著一切嗎？”

“有時候是，當(dāng)我有半打威士忌，邊喝邊仰望星空時，我認為它或許就意味著一切?！?/p>

他們倆又沉默了，還是凱蒂再次打破了沉默。

“告訴我，‘死的是那條狗’，這句話有出處嗎？”

威廷頓的嘴角上揚，他已經(jīng)準(zhǔn)備好了答案。但是也許就在那一刻，他有點兒神經(jīng)過敏，凱蒂沒有看他，但她表情中的某些東西使得他改變了主意。

“如果有出處我也不知道。”他小心謹慎地答道，“你為什么這么問？”

“沒什么，它突然掠過我的腦海，聽起來有點兒耳熟?！?/p>

接下來又是一陣沉默。

“當(dāng)你單獨和你丈夫一起的時候?！蓖㈩D很快說道，“我和軍醫(yī)聊了一會兒，我想我們應(yīng)該知道更多的細節(jié)?！?/p>

“什么細節(jié)？”

“那名軍醫(yī)處于歇斯底里的狀態(tài)，我不太明白他的意思，但我能了解到的是，你丈夫是在做實驗時被感染的。”

“他總是在做實驗。他不是正宗的醫(yī)生，他是個細菌學(xué)家。這也是他急于來這兒的原因。”

“從軍醫(yī)的話中我沒有搞清楚的是，他到底是意外被傳染上的，還是故意拿自己做實驗?！?/p>

凱蒂的臉變得刷白，這種說法讓她渾身顫抖。威廷頓握住了她的手。

“原諒我再次談到這個?！彼麥厝岬卣f道，“但是我以為這會使你得到安慰——我知道在這種場合下，說任何事都是于事無補的——我想這可能對你來說有些意義，沃爾特是為科學(xué)犧牲的，是一個以身殉職的烈士。”

凱蒂似乎有些不耐煩地聳了聳肩。

“沃爾特是心碎而死的?！彼f道。

威廷頓沒有回答，她慢慢地轉(zhuǎn)過身，看著他。她的臉煞白，表情十分堅定。

“他這么說是什么意思，‘死的是條狗’？到底是什么呢？”

“這是戈德史密斯的《挽歌》中的最后一句?！?/p>