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雙語《霍桑短篇小說集》 胎記

所屬教程:譯林版·牧師的黑面紗:霍桑短篇小說集

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2022年06月17日

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THE BIRTHMARK

In the latter part of the last century there lived a man of science, an eminent proficient in every branch of natural philosophy, who not long before our story opens had made experience of a spiritual affinity more attractive than any chemical one. He had left his laboratory to the care of an assistant, cleared his fine countenance from the furnace smoke, washed the stain of acids from his fingers, and persuaded a beautiful woman to become his wife. In those days when the comparatively recent discovery of electricity and other kindred mysteries of Nature seemed to open paths into the region of miracle, it was not unusual for the love of science to rival the love of woman in its depth and absorbing energy. The higher intellect, the imagination, the spirit, and even the heart might all find their congenial aliment in pursuits which, as some of their ardent votaries believed, would ascend from one step of powerful intelligence to another, until the philosopher should lay his hand on the secret of creative force and perhaps make new worlds for himself. We know not whether Aylmer possessed this degree of faith in man's ultimate control over Nature. He had devoted himself, however, too unreservedly to scientific studies ever to be weaned from them by any second passion. His love for his young wife might prove the stronger of the two; but it could only be by intertwining itself with his love of science, and uniting the strength of the latter to his own.

Such a union accordingly took place, and was attended with truly remarkable consequences and a deeply impressive moral. One day, very soon after their marriage, Aylmer sat gazing at his wife with a trouble in his countenance that grew stronger until he spoke.

“Georgiana,”said he,“has it never occurred to you that the mark upon your cheek might be removed?”

“No, indeed,”said she, smiling; but perceiving the seriousness of his manner, she blushed deeply.“To tell you the truth it has been so often called a charm that I was simple enough to imagine it might be so.”

“Ah, upon another face perhaps it might,”replied her husband;“but never on yours. No, dearest Georgiana, you came so nearly perfect from the hand of Nature that this slightest possible defect, which we hesitate whether to term a defect or a beauty, shocks me, as being the visible mark of earthly imperfection.”

“Shocks you, my husband!”cried Georgiana, deeply hurt; at first reddening with momentary anger, but then bursting into tears.“Then why did you take me from my mother's side? You cannot love what shocks you!”

To explain this conversation it must be mentioned that in the centre of Georgiana's left cheek there was a singular mark, deeply interwoven, as it were, with the texture and substance of her face. In the usual state of her complexion—a healthy though delicate bloom—the mark wore a tint of deeper crimson, which imperfectly defined its shape amid the surrounding rosiness. When she blushed it gradually became more indistinct, and finally vanished amid the triumphant rush of blood that bathed the whole cheek with its brilliant glow. But if any shifting motion caused her to turn pale there was the mark again, a crimson stain upon the snow, in what Aylmer sometimes deemed an almost fearful distinctness. Its shape bore not a little similarity to the human hand, though of the smallest pygmy size. Georgiana's lovers were wont to say that some fairy at her birth hour had laid her tiny hand upon the infant's cheek, and left this impress there in token of the magic endowments that were to give her such sway over all hearts. Many a desperate swain would have risked life for the privilege of pressing his lips to the mysterious hand. It must not be concealed, however, that the impression wrought by this fairy sign manual varied exceedingly, according to the difference of temperament in the beholders. Some fastidious persons—but they were exclusively of her own sex—affirmed that the bloody hand, as they chose to call it, quite destroyed the effect of Georgiana's beauty, and rendered her countenance even hideous. But it would be as reasonable to say that one of those small blue stains which sometimes occur in the purest statuary marble would convert the Eve of Powers to a monster. Masculine observers, if the birthmark did not heighten their admiration, contented themselves with wishing it away, that the world might possess one living specimen of ideal loveliness without the semblance of a flaw. After his marriage,—for he thought little or nothing of the matter before,—Aylmer discovered that this was the case with himself.

Had she been less beautiful,—if Envy's self could have found aught else to sneer at,—he might have felt his affection heightened by the prettiness of this mimic hand, now vaguely portrayed, now lost, now stealing forth again and glimmering to and fro with every pulse of emotion that throbbed within her heart; but seeing her otherwise so perfect, he found this one defect grow more and more intolerable with every moment of their united lives. It was the fatal flaw of humanity which Nature, in one shape or another, stamps ineffaceably on all her productions, either to imply that they are temporary and finite, or that their perfection must be wrought by toil and pain. The crimson hand expressed the ineludible gripe in which mortality clutches the highest and purest of earthly mould, degrading them into kindred with the lowest, and even with the very brutes, like whom their visible frames return to dust. In this manner, selecting it as the symbol of his wife's liability to sin, sorrow, decay, and death, Aylmer's sombre imagination was not long in rendering the birthmark a frightful object, causing him more trouble and horror than ever Georgiana's beauty, whether of soul or sense, had given him delight.

At all the seasons which should have been their happiest, he invariably and without intending it, nay, in spite of a purpose to the contrary, reverted to this one disastrous topic. Trifling as it at first appeared, it so connected itself with innumerable trains of thought and modes of feeling that it became the central point of all. With the morning twilight Aylmer opened his eyes upon his wife's face and recognized the symbol of imperfection; and when they sat together at the evening hearth his eyes wandered stealthily to her cheek, and beheld, flickering with the blaze of the wood fire, the spectral hand that wrote mortality where he would fain have worshipped. Georgiana soon learned to shudder at his gaze. It needed but a glance with the peculiar expression that his face often wore to change the roses of her cheek into a deathlike paleness, amid which the crimson hand was brought strongly out, like a bass-relief of ruby on the whitest marble.

Late one night when the lights were growing dim, so as hardly to betray the stain on the poor wife's cheek, she herself, for the first time, voluntarily took up the subject.

“Do you remember, my dear Aylmer,”said she, with a feeble attempt at a smile,“have you any recollection of a dream last night about this odious hand?”

“None! none whatever!”replied Aylmer, starting; but then he added, in a dry, cold tone, affected for the sake of concealing the real depth of his emotion,“I might well dream of it; for before I fell asleep it had taken a pretty firm hold of my fancy.”

“And you did dream of it?”continued Georgiana, hastily; for she dreaded lest a gush of tears should interrupt what she had to say.“A terrible dream! I wonder that you can forget it. Is it possible to forget this one expression?—'It is in her heart now; we must have it out!' Reflect, my husband; for by all means I would have you recall that dream.”

The mind is in a sad state when Sleep, the all-involving, cannot confine her spectres within the dim region of her sway, but suffers them to break forth, affrighting this actual life with secrets that perchance belong to a deeper one. Aylmer now remembered his dream. He had fancied himself with his servant Aminadab, attempting an operation for the removal of the birthmark; but the deeper went the knife, the deeper sank the hand, until at length its tiny grasp appeared to have caught hold of Georgiana's heart; whence, however, her husband was inexorably resolved to cut or wrench it away.

When the dream had shaped itself perfectly in his memory, Aylmer sat in his wife's presence with a guilty feeling. Truth often finds its way to the mind close muffled in robes of sleep, and then speaks with uncompromising directness of matters in regard to which we practise an unconscious self-deception during our waking moments. Until now he had not been aware of the tyrannizing influence acquired by one idea over his mind, and of the lengths which he might find in his heart to go for the sake of giving himself peace.

“Aylmer,”resumed Georgiana, solemnly,“I know not what may be the cost to both of us to rid me of this fatal birthmark. Perhaps its removal may cause cureless deformity; or it may be the stain goes as deep as life itself. Again: do we know that there is a possibility, on any terms, of unclasping the firm gripe of this little hand which was laid upon me before I came into the world?”

“Dearest Georgiana, I have spent much thought upon the subject,”hastily interrupted Aylmer.“I am convinced of the perfect practicability of its removal.”

“If there be the remotest possibility of it,”continued Georgiana,“l(fā)et the attempt be made at whatever risk. Danger is nothing to me; for life, while this hateful mark makes me the object of your horror and disgust,—life is a burden which I would fling down with joy. Either remove this dreadful hand, or take my wretched life! You have deep science. All the world bears witness of it. You have achieved great wonders. Cannot you remove this little, little mark, which I cover with the tips of two small fingers? Is this beyond your power, for the sake of your own peace, and to save your poor wife from madness?”

“Noblest, dearest, tenderest wife,”cried Aylmer, rapturously,“doubt not my power. I have already given this matter the deepest thought—thought which might almost have enlightened me to create a being less perfect than yourself. Georgiana, you have led me deeper than ever into the heart of science. I feel myself fully competent to render this dear cheek as faultless as its fellow; and then, most beloved, what will be my triumph when I shall have corrected what Nature left imperfect in her fairest work! Even Pygmalion, when his sculptured woman assumed life, felt not greater ecstasy than mine will be.”

“It is resolved, then,”said Georgiana, faintly smiling.“And, Aylmer, spare me not, though you should find the birthmark take refuge in my heart at last.”

Her husband tenderly kissed her cheek—her right cheek—not that which bore the impress of the crimson hand.

The next day Aylmer apprised his wife of a plan that he had formed whereby he might have opportunity for the intense thought and constant watchfulness which the proposed operation would require; while Georgiana, likewise, would enjoy the perfect repose essential to its success. They were to seclude themselves in the extensive apartments occupied by Aylmer as a laboratory, and where, during his toilsome youth, he had made discoveries in the elemental powers of Nature that had roused the admiration of all the learned societies in Europe. Seated calmly in this laboratory, the pale philosopher had investigated the secrets of the highest cloud region and of the profoundest mines; he had satisfied himself of the causes that kindled and kept alive the fires of the volcano; and had explained the mystery of fountains, and how it is that they gush forth, some so bright and pure, and others with such rich medicinal virtues, from the dark bosom of the earth. Here, too, at an earlier period, he had studied the wonders of the human frame, and attempted to fathom the very process by which Nature assimilates all her precious influences from earth and air, and from the spiritual world, to create and foster man, her masterpiece. The latter pursuit, however, Aylmer had long laid aside in unwilling recognition of the truth—against which all seekers sooner or later stumble—that our great creative Mother, while she amuses us with apparently working in the broadest sunshine, is yet severely careful to keep her own secrets, and, in spite of her pretended openness, shows us nothing but results. She permits us, indeed, to mar, but seldom to mend, and, like a jealous patentee, on no account to make. Now, however, Aylmer resumed these half-forgotten investigations; not, of course, with such hopes or wishes as first suggested them; but because they involved much physiological truth and lay in the path of his proposed scheme for the treatment of Georgiana.

As he led her over the threshold of the laboratory, Georgiana was cold and tremulous. Aylmer looked cheerfully into her face, with intent to reassure her, but was so startled with the intense glow of the birthmark upon the whiteness of her cheek that he could not restrain a strong convulsive shudder. His wife fainted.

“Aminadab! Aminadab!”shouted Aylmer, stamping violently on the floor.

Forthwith there issued from an inner apartment a man of low stature, but bulky frame, with shaggy hair hanging about his visage, which was grimed with the vapors of the furnace. This personage had been Aylmer's underworker during his whole scientific career, and was admirably fitted for that office by his great mechanical readiness, and the skill with which, while incapable of comprehending a single principle, he executed all the details of his master's experiments. With his vast strength, his shaggy hair, his smoky aspect, and the indescribable earthiness that incrusted him, he seemed to represent man's physical nature; while Aylmer's slender figure, and pale, intellectual face, were no less apt a type of the spiritual element.

“Throw open the door of the boudoir, Aminadab,”said Aylmer,“and burn a pastil.”

“Yes, master,”answered Aminadab, looking intently at the lifeless form of Georgiana; and then he muttered to himself,“If she were my wife, I'd never part with that birthmark.”

When Georgiana recovered consciousness she found herself breathing an atmosphere of penetrating fragrance, the gentle potency of which had recalled her from her deathlike faintness. The scene around her looked like enchantment. Aylmer had converted those smoky, dingy, sombre rooms, where he had spent his brightest years in recondite pursuits, into a series of beautiful apartments not unfit to be the secluded abode of a lovely woman. The walls were hung with gorgeous curtains, which imparted the combination of grandeur and grace that no other species of adornment can achieve; and as they fell from the ceiling to the floor, their rich and ponderous folds, concealing all angles and straight lines, appeared to shut in the scene from infinite space. For aught Georgiana knew, it might be a pavilion among the clouds. And Aylmer, excluding the sunshine, which would have interfered with his chemical processes, had supplied its place with perfumed lamps, emitting flames of various hue, but all uniting in a soft, impurpled radiance. He now knelt by his wife's side, watching her earnestly, but without alarm; for he was confident in his science, and felt that he could draw a magic circle round her within which no evil might intrude.

“Where am I? Ah, I remember,”said Georgiana, faintly; and she placed her hand over her cheek to hide the terrible mark from her husband's eyes.

“Fear not, dearest!”exclaimed he.“Do not shrink from me! Believe me, Georgiana, I even rejoice in this single imperfection, since it will be such a rapture to remove it.”

“Oh, spare me!”sadly replied his wife.“Pray do not look at it again. I never can forget that convulsive shudder.”

In order to soothe Georgiana, and, as it were, to release her mind from the burden of actual things, Aylmer now put in practice some of the light and playful secrets which science had taught him among its profounder lore. Airy figures, absolutely bodiless ideas, and forms of unsubstantial beauty came and danced before her, imprinting their momentary footsteps on beams of light. Though she had some indistinct idea of the method of these optical phenomena, still the illusion was almost perfect enough to warrant the belief that her husband possessed sway over the spiritual world. Then again, when she felt a wish to look forth from her seclusion, immediately, as if her thoughts were answered, the procession of external existence flitted across a screen. The scenery and the figures of actual life were perfectly represented, but with that bewitching, yet indescribable difference which always makes a picture, an image, or a shadow so much more attractive than the original. When wearied of this, Aylmer bade her cast her eyes upon a vessel containing a quantity of earth. She did so, with little interest at first; but was soon startled to perceive the germ of a plant shooting upward from the soil. Then came the slender stalk; the leaves gradually unfolded themselves; and amid them was a perfect and lovely flower.

“It is magical!”cried Georgiana.“I dare not touch it.”

“Nay, pluck it,”answered Aylmer,—“pluck it, and inhale its brief perfume while you may. The flower will wither in a few moments and leave nothing save its brown seed vessels; but thence may be perpetuated a race as ephemeral as itself.”

But Georgiana had no sooner touched the flower than the whole plant suffered a blight, its leaves turning coal-black as if by the agency of fire.

“There was too powerful a stimulus,”said Aylmer, thoughtfully.

To make up for this abortive experiment, he proposed to take her portrait by a scientific process of his own invention. It was to be effected by rays of light striking upon a polished plate of metal. Georgiana assented; but, on looking at the result, was affrighted to find the features of the portrait blurred and indefinable; while the minute figure of a hand appeared where the cheek should have been. Aylmer snatched the metallic plate and threw it into a jar of corrosive acid.

Soon, however, he forgot these mortifying failures. In the intervals of study and chemical experiment he came to her flushed and exhausted, but seemed invigorated by her presence, and spoke in glowing language of the resources of his art. He gave a history of the long dynasty of the alchemists, who spent so many ages in quest of the universal solvent by which the golden principle might be elicited from all things vile and base. Aylmer appeared to believe that, by the plainest scientific logic, it was altogether within the limits of possibility to discover this long-sought medium;“but,”he added,“a philosopher who should go deep enough to acquire the power would attain too lofty a wisdom to stoop to the exercise of it.”Not less singular were his opinions in regard to the elixir vitae. He more than intimated that it was at his option to concoct a liquid that should prolong life for years, perhaps interminably; but that it would produce a discord in Nature which all the world, and chiefly the quaffer of the immortal nostrum, would find cause to curse.

“Aylmer, are you in earnest?”asked Georgiana, looking at him with amazement and fear.“It is terrible to possess such power, or even to dream of possessing it.”

“Oh, do not tremble, my love,”said her husband.“I would not wrong either you or myself by working such inharmonious effects upon our lives; but I would have you consider how trifling, in comparison, is the skill requisite to remove this little hand.”

At the mention of the birthmark, Georgiana, as usual, shrank as if a redhot iron had touched her cheek.

Again Aylmer applied himself to his labors. She could hear his voice in the distant furnace room giving directions to Aminadab, whose harsh, uncouth, misshapen tones were audible in response, more like the grunt or growl of a brute than human speech. After hours of absence, Aylmer reappeared and proposed that she should now examine his cabinet of chemical products and natural treasures of the earth. Among the former he showed her a small vial, in which, he remarked, was contained a gentle yet most powerful fragrance, capable of impregnating all the breezes that blow across a kingdom. They were of inestimable value, the contents of that little vial; and, as he said so, he threw some of the perfume into the air and filled the room with piercing and invigorating delight.

“And what is this?”asked Georgiana, pointing to a small crystal globe containing a gold-colored liquid.“It is so beautiful to the eye that I could imagine it the elixir of life.”

“In one sense it is,”replied Aylmer;“or, rather, the elixir of immortality. It is the most precious poison that ever was concocted in this world. By its aid I could apportion the lifetime of any mortal at whom you might point your finger. The strength of the dose would determine whether he were to linger out years, or drop dead in the midst of a breath. No king on his guarded throne could keep his life if I, in my private station, should deem that the welfare of millions justified me in depriving him of it.”

“Why do you keep such a terrific drug?”inquired Georgiana in horror.

“Do not mistrust me, dearest,”said her husband, smiling;“its virtuous potency is yet greater than its harmful one. But see! here is a powerful cosmetic. With a few drops of this in a vase of water, freckles may be washed away as easily as the hands are cleansed. A stronger infusion would take the blood out of the cheek, and leave the rosiest beauty a pale ghost.”

“Is it with this lotion that you intend to bathe my cheek?”asked Georgiana, anxiously.

“Oh, no,”hastily replied her husband;“this is merely superficial. Your case demands a remedy that shall go deeper.”

In his interviews with Georgiana, Aylmer generally made minute inquiries as to her sensations and whether the confinement of the rooms and the temperature of the atmosphere agreed with her. These questions had such a particular drift that Georgiana began to conjecture that she was already subjected to certain physical influences, either breathed in with the fragrant air or taken with her food. She fancied likewise, but it might be altogether fancy, that there was a stirring up of her system—a strange, indefinite sensation creeping through her veins, and tingling, half painfully, half pleasurably, at her heart. Still, whenever she dared to look into the mirror, there she beheld herself pale as a white rose and with the crimson birthmark stamped upon her cheek. Not even Aylmer now hated it so much as she.

To dispel the tedium of the hours which her husband found it necessary to devote to the processes of combination and analysis, Georgiana turned over the volumes of his scientific library. In many dark old tomes she met with chapters full of romance and poetry. They were the works of the philosophers of the middle ages, such as Albertus Magnus, Cornelius Agrippa, Paracelsus, and the famous friar who created the prophetic Brazen Head. All these antique naturalists stood in advance of their centuries, yet were imbued with some of their credulity, and therefore were believed, and perhaps imagined themselves to have acquired from the investigation of Nature a power above Nature, and from physics a sway over the spiritual world. Hardly less curious and imaginative were the early volumes of the Transactions of the Royal Society, in which the members, knowing little of the limits of natural possibility, were continually recording wonders or proposing methods whereby wonders might be wrought.

But to Georgiana the most engrossing volume was a large folio from her husband's own hand, in which he had recorded every experiment of his scientific career, its original aim, the methods adopted for its development, and its final success or failure, with the circumstances to which either event was attributable. The book, in truth, was both the history and emblem of his ardent, ambitious, imaginative, yet practical and laborious life. He handled physical details as if there were nothing beyond them; yet spiritualized them all, and redeemed himself from materialism by his strong and eager aspiration towards the infinite. In his grasp the veriest clod of earth assumed a soul. Georgiana, as she read, reverenced Aylmer and loved him more profoundly than ever, but with a less entire dependence on his judgment than heretofore. Much as he had accomplished, she could not but observe that his most splendid successes were almost invariably failures, if compared with the ideal at which he aimed. His brightest diamonds were the merest pebbles, and felt to be so by himself, in comparison with the inestimable gems which lay hidden beyond his reach. The volume, rich with achievements that had won renown for its author, was yet as melancholy a record as ever mortal hand had penned. It was the sad confession and continual exemplification of the shortcomings of the composite man, the spirit burdened with clay and working in matter, and of the despair that assails the higher nature at finding itself so miserably thwarted by the earthly part. Perhaps every man of genius in whatever sphere might recognize the image of his own experience in Aylmer's journal.

So deeply did these reflections affect Georgiana that she laid her face upon the open volume and burst into tears. In this situation she was found by her husband.

“It is dangerous to read in a sorcerer's books,”said he, with a smile, though his countenance was uneasy and displeased.“Georgiana, there are pages in that volume which I can scarcely glance over and keep my senses. Take heed lest it prove as detrimental to you.”

“It has made me worship you more than ever,”said she.

“Ah, wait for this one success,”rejoined he,“then worship me if you will. I shall deem myself hardly unworthy of it. But come, I have sought you for the luxury of your voice. Sing to me, dearest.”

So she poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench the thirst of his spirit. He then took his leave with a boyish exuberance of gayety, assuring her that her seclusion would endure but a little longer, and that the result was already certain. Scarcely had he departed when Georgiana felt irresistibly impelled to follow him. She had forgotten to inform Aylmer of a symptom which for two or three hours past had begun to excite her attention. It was a sensation in the fatal birthmark, not painful, but which induced a restlessness throughout her system. Hastening after her husband, she intruded for the first time into the laboratory. The first thing that struck her eye was the furnace, that hot and feverish worker, with the intense glow of its fire, which by the quantities of soot clustered above it seemed to have been burning for ages. There was a distilling apparatus in full operation. Around the room were retorts, tubes, cylinders, crucibles, and other apparatus of chemical research. An electrical machine stood ready for immediate use. The atmosphere felt oppressively close, and was tainted with gaseous odors which had been tormented forth by the processes of science. The severe and homely simplicity of the apartment, with its naked walls and brick pavement, looked strange, accustomed as Georgiana had become to the fantastic elegance of her boudoir. But what chiefly, indeed almost solely, drew her attention, was the aspect of Aylmer himself.

He was pale as death, anxious and absorbed, and hung over the furnace as if it depended upon his utmost watchfulness whether the liquid which it was distilling should be the draught of immortal happiness or misery. How different from the sanguine and joyous mien that he had assumed for Georgiana's encouragement!

“Carefully now, Aminadab; carefully, thou human machine; carefully, thou man of clay!”muttered Aylmer, more to himself than his assistant.“Now, if there be a thought too much or too little, it is all over.”

“Ho! ho!”mumbled Aminadab.“Look, master! look!”

Aylmer raised his eyes hastily, and at first reddened, then grew paler than ever, on beholding Georgiana. He rushed towards her and seized her arm with a gripe that left the print of his fingers upon it.

“Why do you come hither? Have you no trust in your husband?”cried he, impetuously.“Would you throw the blight of that fatal birthmark over my labors? It is not well done. Go, prying woman, go!”

“Nay, Aylmer,”said Georgiana with the firmness of which she possessed no stinted endowment,“it is not you that have a right to complain. You mistrust your wife; you have concealed the anxiety with which you watch the development of this experiment. Think not so unworthily of me, my husband. Tell me all the risk we run, and fear not that I shall shrink; for my share in it is far less than your own.”

“No, no, Georgiana!”said Aylmer, impatiently;“it must not be.”

“I submit,”replied she calmly.“And, Aylmer, I shall quaff whatever draught you bring me; but it will be on the same principle that would induce me to take a dose of poison if offered by your hand.”

“My noble wife,”said Aylmer, deeply moved,“I knew not the height and depth of your nature until now. Nothing shall be concealed. Know, then, that this crimson hand, superficial as it seems, has clutched its grasp into your being with a strength of which I had no previous conception. I have already administered agents powerful enough to do aught except to change your entire physical system. Only one thing remains to be tried. If that fail us we are ruined.”

“Why did you hesitate to tell me this?”asked she.

“Because, Georgiana,”said Aylmer, in a low voice,“there is danger.”

“Danger? There is but one danger—that this horrible stigma shall be left upon my cheek!”cried Georgiana.“Remove it, remove it, whatever be the cost, or we shall both go mad!”

“Heaven knows your words are too true,”said Aylmer, sadly.“And now, dearest, return to your boudoir. In a little while all will be tested.”

He conducted her back and took leave of her with a solemn tenderness which spoke far more than his words how much was now at stake. After his departure Georgiana became rapt in musings. She considered the character of Aylmer, and did it completer justice than at any previous moment. Her heart exulted, while it trembled, at his honorable love—so pure and lofty that it would accept nothing less than perfection nor miserably make itself contented with an earthlier nature than he had dreamed of. She felt how much more precious was such a sentiment than that meaner kind which would have borne with the imperfection for her sake, and have been guilty of treason to holy love by degrading its perfect idea to the level of the actual; and with her whole spirit she prayed that, for a single moment, she might satisfy his highest and deepest conception. Longer than one moment she well knew it could not be; for his spirit was ever on the march, ever ascending, and each instant required something that was beyond the scope of the instant before.

The sound of her husband's footsteps aroused her. He bore a crystal goblet containing a liquor colorless as water, but bright enough to be the draught of immortality. Aylmer was pale; but it seemed rather the consequence of a highly-wrought state of mind and tension of spirit than of fear or doubt.

“The concoction of the draught has been perfect,”said he, in answer to Georgiana's look.“Unless all my science have deceived me, it cannot fail.”

“Save on your account, my dearest Aylmer,”observed his wife,“I might wish to put off this birthmark of mortality by relinquishing mortality itself in preference to any other mode. Life is but a sad possession to those who have attained precisely the degree of moral advancement at which I stand. Were I weaker and blinder it might be happiness. Were I stronger, it might be endured hopefully. But, being what I find myself, methinks I am of all mortals the most fit to die.”

“You are fit for heaven without tasting death!”replied her husband.“But why do we speak of dying? The draught cannot fail. Behold its effect upon this plant.”

On the window seat there stood a geranium diseased with yellow blotches, which had overspread all its leaves. Aylmer poured a small quantity of the liquid upon the soil in which it grew. In a little time, when the roots of the plant had taken up the moisture, the unsightly blotches began to be extinguished in a living verdure.

“There needed no proof,”said Georgiana, quietly.“Give me the goblet. I joyfully stake all upon your word.”

“Drink, then, thou lofty creature!”exclaimed Aylmer, with fervid admiration.“There is no taint of imperfection on thy spirit. Thy sensible frame, too, shall soon be all perfect.”

She quaffed the liquid and returned the goblet to his hand.“It is grateful,”said she with a placid smile.“Methinks it is like water from a heavenly fountain; for it contains I know not what of unobtrusive fragrance and deliciousness. It allays a feverish thirst that had parched me for many days. Now, dearest, let me sleep. My earthly senses are closing over my spirit like the leaves around the heart of a rose at sunset.”

She spoke the last words with a gentle reluctance, as if it required almost more energy than she could command to pronounce the faint and lingering syllables. Scarcely had they loitered through her lips ere she was lost in slumber. Aylmer sat by her side, watching her aspect with the emotions proper to a man the whole value of whose existence was involved in the process now to be tested. Mingled with this mood, however, was the philosophic investigation characteristic of the man of science. Not the minutest symptom escaped him. A heightened flush of the cheek, a slight irregularity of breath, a quiver of the eyelid, a hardly perceptible tremor through the frame,—such were the details which, as the moments passed, he wrote down in his folio volume. Intense thought had set its stamp upon every previous page of that volume, but the thoughts of years were all concentrated upon the last.

While thus employed, he failed not to gaze often at the fatal hand, and not without a shudder. Yet once, by a strange and unaccountable impulse he pressed it with his lips. His spirit recoiled, however, in the very act; and Georgiana, out of the midst of her deep sleep, moved uneasily and murmured as if in remonstrance. Again Aylmer resumed his watch. Nor was it without avail. The crimson hand, which at first had been strongly visible upon the marble paleness of Georgiana's cheek, now grew more faintly outlined. She remained not less pale than ever; but the birthmark, with every breath that came and went, lost somewhat of its former distinctness. Its presence had been awful; its departure was more awful still. Watch the stain of the rainbow fading out of the sky, and you will know how that mysterious symbol passed away.

“By Heaven! it is well-nigh gone!”said Aylmer to himself, in almost irrepressible ecstasy.“I can scarcely trace it now. Success! success! And now it is like the faintest rose color. The lightest flush of blood across her cheek would overcome it. But she is so pale!”

He drew aside the window curtain and suffered the light of natural day to fall into the room and rest upon her cheek. At the same time he heard a gross, hoarse chuckle, which he had long known as his servant Aminadab's expression of delight.

“Ah, clod! ah, earthly mass!”cried Aylmer, laughing in a sort of frenzy,“you have served me well! Matter and spirit—earth and heaven—have both done their part in this! Laugh, thing of the senses! You have earned the right to laugh.”

These exclamations broke Georgiana's sleep. She slowly unclosed her eyes and gazed into the mirror which her husband had arranged for that purpose. A faint smile flitted over her lips when she recognized how barely perceptible was now that crimson hand which had once blazed forth with such disastrous brilliancy as to scare away all their happiness. But then her eyes sought Aylmer's face with a trouble and anxiety that he could by no means account for.

“My poor Aylmer!”murmured she.

“Poor? Nay, richest, happiest, most favored!”exclaimed he.“My peerless bride, it is successful! You are perfect!”

“My poor Aylmer,”she repeated, with a more than human tenderness,“you have aimed loftily; you have done nobly. Do not repent that with so high and pure a feeling, you have rejected the best the earth could offer. Aylmer, dearest Aylmer, I am dying!”

Alas! it was too true! The fatal hand had grappled with the mystery of life, and was the bond by which an angelic spirit kept itself in union with a mortal frame. As the last crimson tint of the birthmark—that sole token of human imperfection—faded from her cheek, the parting breath of the now perfect woman passed into the atmosphere, and her soul, lingering a moment near her husband, took its heavenward flight. Then a hoarse, chuckling laugh was heard again! Thus ever does the gross fatality of earth exult in its invariable triumph over the immortal essence which, in this dim sphere of half development, demands the completeness of a higher state. Yet, had Aylmer reached a profounder wisdom, he need not thus have flung away the happiness which would have woven his mortal life of the selfsame texture with the celestial. The momentary circumstance was too strong for him; he failed to look beyond the shadowy scope of time, and, living once for all in eternity, to find the perfect future in the present.

胎記

上一世紀(jì)后期,有一位科學(xué)家,一位精通自然哲學(xué)各門學(xué)問的著名人士。在我們的故事開始之前不久,他體驗到一種比任何化學(xué)親和力更有吸引力的精神親和力,便把自己的實驗室交給一個助手去照料,將他英俊面龐上的爐灰煙塵徹底清除,將手指上的酸液污斑刷洗干凈,然后打動了一個美麗女郎的芳心,使她成了自己的妻子。在那個時代,對電和大自然其他類似奧秘的新近發(fā)現(xiàn),似乎開辟了進(jìn)入奇跡境界的眾多途徑,因此對于科學(xué)的熱愛竟然能與對女性的熱戀在深度和精力專注程度上一競高低,也就算不得什么特別的事情了。高超的智力、想象力、精神,甚至心靈,都能在各種科學(xué)追求中尋找到與之相宜的養(yǎng)料;正如當(dāng)時一些科學(xué)的熱忱倡導(dǎo)者所深信的,這些追求會在強(qiáng)大的智慧階梯上步步攀登,直到自然哲學(xué)家最后把握到宇宙創(chuàng)造力的秘密,或許還能進(jìn)而為自己開創(chuàng)一片嶄新的天地呢。我們不知道這位艾爾默是否對人類最終控制大自然抱有這種高度的信心。不過,他的確毫無保留地獻(xiàn)身于科學(xué)研究,任何別的激情與之相比都有所遜色,絕不能使他放棄對科學(xué)的追求。他對年輕嬌妻的愛也許可以說是強(qiáng)于他對科學(xué)的愛;但是這種愛也只有與他對科學(xué)的愛互相交織,并讓科學(xué)的力量與他自己的力量相結(jié)合,才會如此強(qiáng)烈。

兩者的這種結(jié)合自然就發(fā)生了,并且導(dǎo)致了真正驚人的后果和深刻感人的教訓(xùn)。有一天,就在他們婚后不久,艾爾默坐在那兒凝視著妻子,表情中顯示出越來越強(qiáng)烈的煩惱,最后終于說話了。

“喬治亞娜,”他說,“你從來沒想過臉上的那塊胎記也許可以弄掉嗎?”

“不,真的沒想過?!彼f,微微一笑;可是她察覺到丈夫態(tài)度的嚴(yán)肅,霎時臉色通紅。“說實話,別人常常說它嫵媚動人,我也就當(dāng)真以為是這樣了?!?/p>

“啊,要是長在另一個人臉上也許是的,”丈夫答道,“但長在你的臉上絕非如此。不,最親愛的喬治亞娜,大自然之手把你造得幾乎十全十美,所以這一點微乎其微的瑕疵——我也拿不準(zhǔn)該叫它瑕疵還是美麗——卻令我震驚,因為它是人世缺憾的明顯標(biāo)記?!?/p>

“令你震驚,我的丈夫!”喬治亞娜叫道,她受到了很深的傷害,一時氣憤得滿面通紅,接著眼淚便奪眶而出?!澳悄銥槭裁磸奈夷赣H身邊把我娶來?你當(dāng)然不能愛一個令你震驚的人!”

要解釋這場談話,必須提到喬治亞娜左邊臉頰中央有一個特殊的印記,仿佛與她面部的肌膚組織深深地滲合在一起。當(dāng)她的膚色處于平常狀態(tài)時——一種雖然嬌嫩但很健康的膚色——這個印記便帶著較深的紅暈,在周圍的玫瑰紅中顯露出不規(guī)則的形狀。當(dāng)她臉紅的時候,這個印記便會漸漸變得更加模糊,最后消失在滿面煥發(fā)光彩的一片紅潮之中??墒?,只要她情緒發(fā)生變化而臉色轉(zhuǎn)為蒼白,那個印記又會再次顯現(xiàn),猶如白雪之中呈現(xiàn)出一點深紅,有時候真讓艾爾默覺得它清晰得近乎可怕。它的形狀很像人的一只手,雖說只有最矮小的侏儒的手那樣大。喬治亞娜的傾慕者常常說,在她出生時一定有位仙女把纖手按在了這個嬰兒的臉上,留下這個印記來顯示她具有神奇的稟賦,足以讓所有男子一見傾心。許多渴慕若狂的年輕人甚至愿意拿生命來冒險,只要能得到親吻這神秘手印的特權(quán)。不過無須諱言的是,人們因為氣質(zhì)各不相同,對仙女留下的這個手印也會有不同的印象。某些吹毛求疵的人——只不過無一例外都與她同一性別——寧愿稱這個印記為血手,硬說它大大毀損了喬治亞娜美貌的魅力,使她的面目丑得可怕。當(dāng)然,最純凈的大理石有時也會含有細(xì)小的藍(lán)色瑕疵,只需一小點就足以將出自鮑爾斯之手的夏娃雕像變成怪物,這樣說也有道理。至于男性觀察者們,如果說這個胎記沒有增強(qiáng)他們的戀慕,卻也寧愿它消失才覺得滿意,以便讓世界擁有一個毫無瑕疵的合乎理想美的活標(biāo)本。艾爾默在婚前很少或者說根本沒有想過這件事,婚后才發(fā)現(xiàn)自己的心愿正是如此。

倘若她沒有這么美麗——倘若妒忌之神能找到任何其他嘲弄目標(biāo)——他也許會因這個手印似的美妙胎記而愛意倍增;它時而朦朧顯現(xiàn),時而消失無影,時而又悄然復(fù)歸,總伴隨著內(nèi)心深處的情感波動而忽明忽暗、若隱若現(xiàn)??墒羌热凰酥馓幪幎寄敲赐昝罒o缺,隨著他們共同生活的時日增進(jìn),艾爾默便越來越覺得這個缺點難以容忍。這是人類的一種致命缺陷,大自然總是要以這種或那種方式給它的創(chuàng)造物留下不可磨滅的印記,或者暗示一切事物無不短暫而有限,或者意味著它們的完美還必須經(jīng)過千辛萬苦才能達(dá)成。這個深紅的手形胎記代表著一只無可逃脫的命運(yùn)之手,死亡用這只手緊緊抓住最崇高最純潔的塵世造物,將他們貶到最卑賤的甚至是畜生的地位,讓人類有形的軀體也像畜生一樣歸于塵土。正是按照這種思考方式,艾爾默認(rèn)定這個胎記乃是妻子無法逃避罪孽、痛苦、腐朽和死亡的象征,他那陰暗的想象力不久就把這個胎記視為不祥之物,這給他帶來了越來越多的煩惱和恐懼,壓倒了喬治亞娜心靈與容貌的美給他帶來的歡樂。

在一切他們應(yīng)該感到最愉快的時刻,他總會一成不變地回到這個災(zāi)難般的話題上來;他并非故意如此,不,他本意想要回避但又身不由己。這件事初看起來微不足道,但它總是同無數(shù)聯(lián)想和各種感覺聯(lián)系起來,結(jié)果變成了一切問題的中心。在曙光朦朧中,艾爾默睜開眼就看見妻子的臉,立即就辨認(rèn)出那個不完美的標(biāo)記;在黃昏的爐火旁,當(dāng)他們并坐在一起時,他的目光會偷偷溜到她的臉頰上,借助柴火搖曳的光線看到那只鬼魅之手忽隱忽現(xiàn),在他樂于贊賞的地方寫下死亡的命數(shù)。喬治亞娜不久就形成了一種反應(yīng),每逢他凝視自己就不免渾身戰(zhàn)栗。只要他在臉上掛著那種慣常的怪異表情對她瞟上一眼,她那玫瑰般紅潤的臉頰就會變得像死一樣蒼白。這時那只深紅色的手印就會強(qiáng)烈地顯現(xiàn)出來,猶如在雪白的大理石上刻出的一塊紅寶石浮雕。

一個深夜,當(dāng)光線逐漸暗淡,幾乎照不清這位可憐的妻子臉頰上的斑記時,她本人第一次主動提起了這個話題。

“你還記得嗎,親愛的艾爾默?”她說道,勉強(qiáng)露出一絲微笑,“你還記得昨天晚上你夢見了這只可憎的手嗎?”

“不!什么也記不得了!”艾爾默答道,他大吃一驚,不過接著就用干澀而冷靜的口氣補(bǔ)上一句,以便掩飾自己內(nèi)心深處的真實感情,“也許夢見了吧,因為我在入睡之前心里一直想著它?!?/p>

“那你真的夢見它啦?”喬治亞娜匆匆地問,因為她害怕奪眶而出的眼淚會打斷她想說的話,“一個可怕的夢!我不相信你會忘記。你難道會忘記這句話嗎?——‘它現(xiàn)在在她心里,我們必須把它弄出來!’想一想,我的丈夫,無論如何我都要請你把那個夢回憶出來?!?/p>

當(dāng)包容一切的睡神不能將麾下的幽靈禁錮在她混沌的權(quán)力領(lǐng)域內(nèi),而聽其擺脫羈絆沖脫出來,使實際生活受到那些應(yīng)當(dāng)屬于意識深處的秘密的恐嚇時,心靈便處于一種悲慘的境地。艾爾默現(xiàn)在想起了自己的夢。他夢見自己同仆人阿米那達(dá)勃一道,試圖用手術(shù)除掉那個胎記;可是手術(shù)刀切得越深,那個手印也就陷得越深,到后來那只小手竟緊緊抓住了喬治亞娜的心臟。然而她丈夫卻執(zhí)意非把它切下來或者擰下來不可。

當(dāng)整個夢境完全在記憶中浮現(xiàn)之后,艾爾默懷著愧疚的心情坐在妻子面前。事實真相常常偷偷地潛入被睡眠包裹著的心靈,然后對我們清醒時無意識中自我欺騙的種種行為作無情的揭露。直到現(xiàn)在他才意識到,有一個念頭在暴戾地主宰著自己的心靈,而為了求得安寧,他內(nèi)心的欲望又會發(fā)展到怎樣的程度。

“艾爾默,”喬治亞娜嚴(yán)肅地接著說下去,“我不知道為了除掉這個不祥的胎記,我們兩人可能付出多大代價。說不定去掉它會留下無可救治的殘疾,或許這個印記就像生命本身一樣的深哩。再說——我們是否知道即使不惜任何代價,到底有沒有可能解開這只在我出生之前就已緊緊抓住了我的小手呢?”

“最親愛的喬治亞娜,對這個問題我已經(jīng)考慮很久了,”艾爾默急匆匆地打斷她的話,“我深信去掉它是完全可行的。”

“就算是只有絲毫的可能性,”喬治亞娜接著說,“也讓我們試一試,不管冒多大的風(fēng)險。我對危險毫不在乎;至于說到生命,既然這個可恨的印記使我成了你恐懼和厭惡的對象——這生命也就成了我樂于扔掉的沉重負(fù)擔(dān)。要么去掉這只可怕的手,要么就奪去我這悲慘的生命!你精通深奧的科學(xué),世人有目共睹。你創(chuàng)造過許多偉大的奇跡。難道你連這么一個小而又小的、我用兩個小手指尖都能蓋住的斑點都除不掉嗎?為了你自己的安寧,也為了拯救你可憐的妻子不至于發(fā)瘋,這難道是你辦不到的嗎?”

“最高貴、最親愛、最溫柔的妻子,”艾爾默欣喜若狂,“不要懷疑我的能力。我對這件事已經(jīng)作過深入的思考——這種思考給我?guī)淼膯l(fā)幾乎能使我造出一個沒有你那么完美的人來了。喬治亞娜,你使我比過去更深入地潛入了科學(xué)的核心。我覺得自己完全能夠把這一側(cè)可愛的臉頰變得與另一側(cè)同樣的完美無缺。那時候,最親愛的,當(dāng)我糾正了大自然在它最美麗的創(chuàng)造物上留下的瑕疵,我將怎樣因成功而欣喜若狂!就連皮格馬利翁的少女雕像獲得生命的時候,他心中的狂喜也不能和我相比。”

“那就這樣決定了,”喬治亞娜露出了一絲微笑,“艾爾默,不要憐惜我,即使你最后發(fā)現(xiàn)這個胎記藏進(jìn)了我的心里?!?/p>

她丈夫溫柔地吻了吻她的臉頰——她的右臉頰——而不是長著緋紅手印的那一邊。

第二天,艾爾默向妻子說明自己已經(jīng)有了一個計劃,打算借此機(jī)會進(jìn)行專注思考和持續(xù)觀察,而這些都是擬議中的手術(shù)所必需的;同時喬治亞娜也可以得到徹底休息,這對于手術(shù)的成功至為關(guān)鍵。他們要遠(yuǎn)離塵囂,退隱到艾爾默做實驗室的那個寬闊的房間里去。在這里,他曾度過艱苦勞作的青年時代,在大自然的基本力量方面獲得了若干重要發(fā)現(xiàn),贏得了整個歐洲學(xué)術(shù)界的欽佩。這位臉色蒼白的自然哲學(xué)家曾靜坐在這個實驗室里,探索過最高的云區(qū)和最深的礦層的秘密;他曾就火山爆發(fā)和不斷冒火的原因?qū)ふ业阶约簼M意的答案;他曾解釋噴泉之謎,說明為什么它們從黑暗的地心噴涌而出時有的明澈純凈,有的富于醫(yī)療的功效;也是在這里,他曾在早期研究過人類身體的奧妙,試圖探測自然之母如何吸取大地與天空以及精神世界的所有精華,創(chuàng)造和養(yǎng)育她的杰作——人類。不過,后面這種研究艾爾默早就棄置一旁了,他雖不情愿卻不得不承認(rèn)一條真理——所有探索者遲早都會在這兒碰釘子——那就是我們偉大的創(chuàng)造之母雖然為讓我們快樂,在光天化日之下明明白白地工作著,可是她卻小心地嚴(yán)守著自己的秘密,盡管裝得公開坦白,卻讓我們除看到成果之外一無所知。確實,她允許我們損壞,卻很少允許我們修補(bǔ),就像一位心懷戒備的專利占有者,絕不允許我們?nèi)ミM(jìn)行創(chuàng)造。然而,現(xiàn)在艾爾默又重新進(jìn)行這些幾乎已被遺忘了的研究;當(dāng)然,他并未執(zhí)著于當(dāng)初所抱的希望或者愿望,只是因為這些研究涉及許多生理學(xué)方面的真理,而且是治療喬治亞娜預(yù)定方案上必須解決的難題。

當(dāng)他帶著妻子跨過實驗室的門檻時,喬治亞娜渾身發(fā)冷并且戰(zhàn)抖起來。艾爾默興致很高地望著她,想要讓她放心,卻吃驚地發(fā)現(xiàn)她雪白的臉頰上那個胎記發(fā)出灼熱的紅光,禁不住痙攣似的一陣戰(zhàn)栗。他妻子竟然昏了過去。

“阿米那達(dá)勃!阿米那達(dá)勃!”艾爾默高聲大叫,一面用力跺著腳。

從屋子里間立刻跑出一個人來,他個子矮小但身軀龐大,亂蓬蓬的頭發(fā)吊在臉上,而那張臉則被爐煙熏得猙獰可怖。這個人在艾爾默的全部科學(xué)研究生涯中一直充當(dāng)他的助手,而且對于這項工作十分稱職,因為他具有機(jī)械式的迅速反應(yīng)與動作,也具有處理主人實驗中一切具體細(xì)節(jié)的技能,雖然他對于任何一項原理一竅不通。他那強(qiáng)大的力量,蓬亂的頭發(fā),滿面的煙塵,以及籠罩全身的難以形容的純樸粗陋,仿佛代表了人類肉體的本性;而艾爾默的頎長身材、蒼白而帶智慧色彩的面容,則恰好象征著人類的精神素質(zhì)。

“快打開閨房的門,阿米那達(dá)勃,”艾爾默說,“再點燃一支香錠?!?/p>

“是的,主人?!卑⒚啄沁_(dá)勃答道,并關(guān)注地看了看毫無生氣的喬治亞娜;接著他又喃喃自語地說,“假如她是我妻子,我可絕不愿去掉那個胎記。”

當(dāng)喬治亞娜醒過來的時候,她覺得自己正嗅著一種滲透心脾的芬芳,那香氣溫和的功效把她從死一般的昏暈中喚醒過來。周圍的一切似乎都被施予了魔法。艾爾默已經(jīng)把這些煙熏火燎、骯臟不堪、昏暗陰郁的房間——他在青春盛年曾在這里進(jìn)行過艱深研究——改變成一間精美的套房,給一位可愛的女人做幽深的閨房倒頗為合適。墻上懸掛著的華麗帷幔使人既感豪華又覺高雅,其他任何裝飾都不可能達(dá)到這種效果;那些帷幔從天花板直垂到地板上,層層富麗而厚重的褶皺將所有的尖角與直線都隱藏起來,仿佛要把這個小天地與無限的空間隔離開來。在喬治亞娜看來,這也許是一座仙境樓閣呢。艾爾默把陽光遮擋在外面,害怕它會影響自己的化學(xué)實驗,卻用能夠散發(fā)香氣的燈來取代,它們所燃燒起的五彩的光焰,全都融進(jìn)一片柔和的紫色光輝中。艾爾默這時跪在妻子身旁,關(guān)切地注視著她,但并不驚慌;因為他對自己的科學(xué)十分自信,覺得他能在她周圍劃上一道魔圈,使任何妖孽都難以侵入。

“我在什么地方???哦,我想起來了?!眴讨蝸喣忍撊醯卣f,同時把手放在那塊可怕的胎記上,不讓丈夫看見。

“別害怕,親愛的!”他高聲說,“別躲避我!相信我,喬治亞娜,我甚至為這個唯一的缺憾感到高興,因為把它去掉將會帶給我巨大的快樂。”

“啊,饒了我吧!”他的妻子哀傷地回答,“請別再去看它了。我永遠(yuǎn)也忘不了你那痙攣似的戰(zhàn)栗。”

為了安撫喬治亞娜,似乎也可以說是為了讓她卸掉現(xiàn)實的重負(fù),艾爾默現(xiàn)在開始施行一些從科學(xué)的深奧學(xué)問中學(xué)來的輕松有趣的秘密。許多飄忽的形體、無形的意念和虛幻的美景翩然而至,在她面前舞蹈,把它們轉(zhuǎn)瞬即逝的舞步映照在一道道光柱之上。盡管她對產(chǎn)生這些光學(xué)現(xiàn)象的方法也有某些模糊的認(rèn)識,但這種幻覺卻如此近乎完美,足以使她相信自己的丈夫真的擁有控制精神世界的力量。接著,當(dāng)她覺得自己希望從這幽居獨處的地方看看外界的景象時,她這個念頭仿佛立即就獲得了應(yīng)答,外界事物隨即依次在一塊屏幕上飛掠而過。實際生活中的種種景象和人物都栩栩如生地呈現(xiàn)在眼前,但又具有那種令人心醉神迷卻又難以形容的差異,正是這種差異使得一幅畫、一個形象或者一片陰影比原物更能吸引人。當(dāng)她厭膩了這種景象之后,艾爾默又要她看一看一只盛著泥土的桶。她照著做了,起初并無興趣,可是很快就吃驚地發(fā)現(xiàn)有一棵植物的幼芽破土而出,接著就長出了纖細(xì)的莖干;葉片漸漸地舒展開來;在葉叢中竟然有一朵嬌美可愛的花。

“它是一朵魔花!”喬治亞娜叫道,“我可不敢碰它?!?/p>

“別怕,把它摘下來吧,”艾爾默回答——“摘下來,抓緊時間嗅它那短暫的香氣。這朵花轉(zhuǎn)瞬間就會枯萎,除了褐色的種子莢殼之外什么也不會留下;不過從這粒種子里將會繁殖出一種與它同樣短命的花卉?!?/p>

可是,喬治亞娜剛一觸摸到那朵花,整株植物頓時枯萎,葉子變得焦黑,就像被火烤過似的。

“里面含的刺激劑太強(qiáng)了。”艾爾默若有所思地說。

為了補(bǔ)償這次失敗的實驗,他又建議用自己發(fā)明的一種科學(xué)方法來給她描繪一幅肖像。那是通過光線照射在一塊光滑的金屬片上來產(chǎn)生的。喬治亞娜同意了,可是她一旦看到結(jié)果就驚嚇不已:肖像上面容模糊一團(tuán),簡直看不清是什么,而本該是臉頰的地方卻顯現(xiàn)出一只小手的形狀。艾爾默一把搶過金屬片,把它扔進(jìn)了一個裝著腐蝕性酸液的罐子里。

不過他很快就忘記了這些使他丟臉的失敗。他有時中斷他的研究與化學(xué)實驗,滿面通紅、精疲力竭地回到她身邊來,但似乎一回到她跟前就立即精神振奮起來,熱情洋溢地談?wù)撝约杭妓嚨姆N種淵源。他談起煉金術(shù)士王朝的漫長歷史,他們耗費(fèi)了許多世代的光陰,為的是要尋找到一種萬能溶劑,它可以從一切低劣微賤的東西中提取出黃金??磥戆瑺柲钚挪灰?,根據(jù)顯而易見的科學(xué)邏輯,要發(fā)現(xiàn)這種長期尋找的媒質(zhì)是完全可能的?!安贿^,”他又補(bǔ)充道,“一個研究如此精深而獲得這種能力的科學(xué)家,他也會達(dá)到極高的智慧,不屑于降格來做這種事了?!彼麑﹂L生不老藥的見解也同樣很獨特。他明白表示自己完全可以隨意調(diào)配出一種藥劑,能將人的壽命延長許多年,或許能夠無限延長。只不過這會造成自然界的不調(diào)和,從而招致世人,主要是那些服用長壽藥劑的人們的詛咒。

“艾爾默,你說這些是當(dāng)真的嗎?”喬治亞娜又驚又怕地看著丈夫,“有這種本領(lǐng)真是太可怕了,就是夢到自己有這種本領(lǐng)都會害怕的?!?/p>

“哦,別怕,親愛的,”她丈夫說,“我不會對我們自己的生命施行這些亂七八糟的花樣來害你或者害自己的。我只不過是要你想一想,去除這只小手印的技藝與此相比是多么微不足道?!?/p>

一提到胎記,喬治亞娜頓時就和平時一樣畏縮起來,就像有一塊燒紅的烙鐵觸到了她的臉頰上。

艾爾默又回頭去專心致力于他的工作。她能聽見他從遠(yuǎn)處燒著爐子的房間里傳來的說話聲,他對阿米那達(dá)勃發(fā)指示,阿米那達(dá)勃用他那粗澀刺耳而又古怪的聲音在回答,聽起來不像人在說話,倒像一只野獸在哼叫或咆哮。艾爾默離開幾個小時之后又回來了,提議說她應(yīng)當(dāng)去看看他那個裝著化學(xué)制品和世間自然珍寶的櫥柜。在那些化學(xué)制品中,他拿出了一個小藥瓶給她看,他說瓶中裝著一種柔和而極有威力的香精,能夠讓整個國度中吹拂的微風(fēng)都蘊(yùn)含香味。這個小瓶子里裝的東西真具有不可估量的價值;他一邊這樣說一邊朝空中灑出了幾滴香精,房間里即刻就充滿了強(qiáng)烈而令人振奮的愉悅香味。

“這又是什么呢?”喬治亞娜指著一個盛著金色液體的小水晶球說,“它看上去是那么美,我能夠猜想到里面裝的是長生不老藥?!?/p>

“從某種意義上說是這樣,”艾爾默回答道,“或者不如說它是一種不朽靈藥。它是這個世界上所能配制出來的最寶貴的毒藥。我可以用它任意限定你所指定的任何人的壽命。它的劑量可以決定那個人是將生命綿延許多年,還是在瞬息之間就丟命。坐在警衛(wèi)森嚴(yán)的王座上的國王們沒有一個能保住自己的性命,只要我在自己的私室里認(rèn)定為了千萬人的幸福有理由剝奪他的生命?!?/p>

“你為什么要保存著這么可怕的藥劑呢?”喬治亞娜驚恐地問道。

“別懷疑我,親愛的,”她的丈夫笑著說,“它的益處比壞處可大得多??粗?!這里還有一種強(qiáng)效化妝劑。在一瓶水里滴上幾滴,就能把雀斑像洗手一樣洗得干干凈凈。如果加強(qiáng)劑量就會把臉上的血色洗掉,讓臉色像玫瑰般紅潤的美女變成蒼白的幽靈?!?/p>

“你就是想用這種藥劑來洗我的臉吧?”喬治亞娜焦急地問。

“哦,不,”丈夫急忙回答,“這只能作用于表面。你需要的是一種效力更加深入的藥?!?/p>

艾爾默在同喬治亞娜談話的時候,總是要仔細(xì)詢問她的感覺,了解她被幽閉在這些房間里是否樂意,室內(nèi)的氣溫是否適宜。這些問題顯示出一種特殊的意味,以致喬治亞娜開始猜想自己業(yè)已受到了某種自然物質(zhì)的影響,要不是把它同芬芳的香氣一道吸了進(jìn)去,就是把它同食物一道吃了下去。她還想象——不過也許只是幻想——自己體內(nèi)有什么在躁動,有一種奇怪的、不可名狀的感覺正偷偷傳遍全身經(jīng)脈,然后半帶痛楚半帶愉悅地在心窩戰(zhàn)栗。任何時候只要她鼓起勇氣照照鏡子,就會看見自己的臉色像白玫瑰般蒼白,那緋紅的胎記仍然赫然印在臉頰上?,F(xiàn)在即使是艾爾默也趕不上她自己對這個胎記的憎惡了。

在丈夫必須致力于化合與分析實驗的時候,喬治亞娜為了消磨掉乏味的時光,便翻閱起他那間科學(xué)圖書室里的書籍來。從許多幽昧難解的古書中,她讀到一些充滿傳奇故事和詩歌的篇章。它們是中世紀(jì)自然哲學(xué)家的著作,這些人當(dāng)中有艾伯塔斯·馬格努斯、科尼利烏斯·阿格里帕、帕拉塞爾蘇斯,以及那位創(chuàng)造出會預(yù)言的青銅頭像的著名修道士。所有這些古代的自然科學(xué)家都站在自己時代的前列,卻又充滿了那些時代的某些輕信,所以人們相信——或者他們自己也認(rèn)為——他們從對大自然的探索中獲得了超越自然的力量,并從物理學(xué)中取得了對精神世界的支配權(quán)。王家學(xué)會的那些早期學(xué)報也同樣離奇古怪、異想天開。學(xué)會會員們幾乎絲毫不了解自然可能性的極限,只是不停地記錄著種種奇跡,或者提出制造奇跡的方法。

對于喬治亞娜來說,最引發(fā)興趣的是她丈夫親筆寫成的一卷對開本的大書,里面記載著他在科學(xué)研究生涯中的每一項實驗,包括其原定目標(biāo)、進(jìn)展過程中所采用的種種方法、最終的成功或失敗,以及導(dǎo)致成功或失敗的詳情細(xì)節(jié)。事實上,對于他那滿懷熱忱、雄心勃勃和富于幻想而又勇于實踐、勤奮鉆研的一生,這本書既是歷史記錄,也是一種象征。他處理起物質(zhì)細(xì)節(jié)來如此專注,猶如除此之外別的什么都不存在,但他又將物質(zhì)全部予以精神化,并憑借自己對無限的熱切追求而避免陷入純粹的物質(zhì)主義。在他手中,實實在在的一塊泥土也具備了某種靈魂。喬治亞娜一邊讀著,一邊對艾爾默油然而生敬意,對他也比過去愛得更深,但對他的判斷力卻不再像以前那樣絕對信賴了。盡管他取得了那么多成就,她卻不能不看到他最輝煌的成就與他的理想目標(biāo)相比幾乎只能算作失敗。如果與他不可企及的那些無價珍寶相比,他現(xiàn)在握在手中的最燦爛的鉆石只能算是些最普通的卵石,而且他自己也是這樣認(rèn)為的。這部書里寫滿了為作者本人贏得盛譽(yù)的許多成就,然而又是一卷出自凡夫俗子之手的陰郁的記錄。它記錄下了人的悲哀自白和無窮盡的例證,證明人這種混合物其精神總是為肉體所拖累,并只能借助物質(zhì)來發(fā)揮機(jī)能,也說明崇高的天性發(fā)現(xiàn)自身悲慘地受制于肉體時如何遭受絕望的襲擊。也許任何領(lǐng)域中的每一個天才,都能從艾爾默的日記中看出自身經(jīng)歷的生動體現(xiàn)。

這些思緒深深地感動了喬治亞娜,她把臉伏在翻開的書頁上,禁不住淚水涌流。就在這時候她被丈夫撞見了。

“讀巫士的書是很危險的啊?!彼χf,盡管表情有些不安和生氣,“喬治亞娜,這本書里有些地方連我自己看上一眼都很難保持理智。小心別讓它讓你受害?!?/p>

“它使我比過去更加崇拜你了?!彼f。

“啊,等到這次成功后再說吧,”他回答道,“到那時如果你樂意再來崇拜我吧。我也不會認(rèn)為自己受之有愧了。好啦,我找你為的是要享受一下你的歌聲。親愛的,給我唱支歌吧?!?/p>

于是她便以自己行云流水般的歌聲慰解了他精神上的饑渴。然后他便帶著孩子般的無限歡悅離開了,他還向她保證說幽居生活很快就會結(jié)束,成功是有絕對把握的。他剛剛離開,喬治亞娜便感到有種無法抗拒的力量驅(qū)使自己跟著他。她忘了告訴艾爾默,過去兩三個鐘頭里她身上出現(xiàn)了一種令她擔(dān)憂的癥狀。它就是產(chǎn)生在那塊致命胎記里的某種感覺,不是疼痛,而是引起了整個身體的焦躁不安。她急匆匆地跟在丈夫后面,第一次闖進(jìn)了那間實驗室。進(jìn)入她眼簾的第一件東西就是那個熔爐,通紅火熱,光焰熊熊,從爐頂堆積的大量煙塵看來它已經(jīng)不停地燃燒了許多年頭。一套蒸餾器械正在全速運(yùn)轉(zhuǎn)。房間里到處是蒸餾器、試管、量筒、坩堝和其他種種用于化學(xué)研究的器具。一臺電動機(jī)械已經(jīng)準(zhǔn)備停當(dāng)正馬上要投入使用。整個氣氛顯得極其壓抑,空中彌漫著由實驗產(chǎn)生的各種刺鼻的氣味。整個房間十分簡陋樸素,墻壁光禿禿的,地下鋪著磚塊,在習(xí)慣于自己閨房的華麗雅致的喬治亞娜看來,一切都顯得異常陌生。但吸引了她的主要注意力,簡直是全部注意力的,卻是艾爾默的模樣。

他臉色像死人似的蒼白,神情急切而專注,全身緊俯在熔爐上方,仿佛熔爐里蒸餾出來的液體到底是永恒幸福之藥還是永恒苦難之藥,就全依賴于他的全神貫注。這與他為了鼓勵喬治亞娜而表現(xiàn)出的那種樂觀自信的神態(tài)是多么的不同??!

“現(xiàn)在要當(dāng)心,阿米那達(dá)勃;當(dāng)心點,你這人形的機(jī)械!當(dāng)心點,你這凡俗之徒!”艾爾默這樣咕咕噥噥著,與其說是在訓(xùn)誡助手,倒不如說是在自言自語?!艾F(xiàn)在,只要有一念之差,就全都完了?!?/p>

“嗬!嗬!”阿米那達(dá)勃含糊地咕嚕著,“瞧,主人!瞧!”

艾爾默急忙抬起頭來,看到了喬治亞娜,他臉色先是變紅,接著又變得比原來更加蒼白。他沖到喬治亞娜身邊,那樣緊地一把抓住她的胳膊,甚至在她的胳膊上留下了自己的指印。

“你為什么到這里來?難道你不相信你的丈夫嗎?”他情緒暴躁地叫道,“你想讓那塊該死的胎記毀滅我苦心經(jīng)營的事情嗎?藥劑還沒制成哩。走吧,好奇的女人!走!”

“不,艾爾默,”喬治亞娜的語氣中顯示出她所固有的堅定性格,“你并沒有權(quán)力來抱怨我。你不相信自己的妻子,你一直掩藏著自己在這場實驗中的焦慮心情。你不要認(rèn)為我那么不中用,我的丈夫。把我們所冒的風(fēng)險告訴我吧,不要擔(dān)心我會畏縮;因為我在這件事里所擔(dān)的風(fēng)險要比你輕多了?!?/p>

“不,不,喬治亞娜!”艾爾默不耐煩地說,“不能這樣。”

“我會順從的,”她平靜地回答道,“而且,艾爾默,無論你給我的是什么藥劑,我都會一口吞下;根據(jù)同樣的道理,就算是你親手遞給我一杯毒藥我也會服下去的?!?/p>

“我心地高尚的妻子,”艾爾默被深深感動了,“直到現(xiàn)在我才知道你的天性是多么高貴和深沉。我再不會有任何事情瞞著你了。你要知道,這只緋紅的手印盡管顯得很表淺,實際上卻以一種我從來未能想象到的力量牢牢楔入了你的機(jī)體中。我已經(jīng)試用過種種無所不能的強(qiáng)效藥劑,就只差改變你的生理組織了?,F(xiàn)在只有一種辦法還沒有嘗試過。要是這也不行,我們就全完了?!?/p>

“你為什么一直猶豫著不把這事告訴我?”她問道。

“因為,喬治亞娜,”艾爾默用低沉的聲音說,“這樣做有危險。”

“危險?危險只有一個——那就是讓這個可怕的印記繼續(xù)留在我的臉頰上!”喬治亞娜高聲叫道,“去掉它,去掉它,不管要多大的代價,要不然我們都會被弄瘋的!”

“上天知道,你說得真是太對了,”艾爾默哀傷地說,“現(xiàn)在,最親愛的,回你的閨房去吧。再過片刻時間,一切都將接受檢驗了?!?/p>

他陪她回到房里,然后帶著莊嚴(yán)而溫柔的神情離開了她,這種神情遠(yuǎn)比他的言辭更能表明現(xiàn)在他們所面臨的風(fēng)險有多大。在他走后,喬治亞娜陷入了凝神沉思之中。她仔細(xì)思量著艾爾默的性格,做出了比以往任何時候都更全面公正的判斷。她想到他那高貴的愛情,心里不禁無比歡悅卻又陣陣戰(zhàn)栗——他的愛是那么純潔和崇高,絕不能接受哪怕半點的不完美,也不愿可憐地滿足于任何不符合理想境界的凡俗平庸。她覺得這種感情遠(yuǎn)比那種低劣的愛情更加珍貴,遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)勝過因為愛她的緣故而不得不忍受她的缺憾,遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)勝過因為將完美理想降低到現(xiàn)實水準(zhǔn)從而終生懷著背棄神圣愛情的負(fù)罪感。于是她以整個心靈虔誠祈禱,但愿自己能滿足他那最崇高最深沉的觀念,哪怕只有短短一瞬也好。她也十分清楚,不可能比短短一瞬更加長久,因為他的精神永遠(yuǎn)在奮進(jìn),永遠(yuǎn)在攀登,每一瞬都在要求著某種超越前一瞬的東西。

丈夫的腳步聲把她驚醒了。他端著一只水晶高腳杯,里面盛的液體像水一樣透明無色,但那瑩瑩光輝足以證明它真是一種長生之藥。艾爾默臉色蒼白;不過那似乎是心智高度亢奮和精神緊張的結(jié)果,而并非是害怕或懷疑的征象。

“這種藥劑調(diào)制得可謂盡善盡美。”他說,以此來回答喬治亞娜詢問的眼神,“它萬無一失,除非我所有的科學(xué)知識都欺騙了我。”

“要不是為了你,親愛的艾爾默,”他妻子說,“我寧愿以拋棄生命本身的方式來除掉這塊凡人的胎記,而不愿用任何別的方式。對于達(dá)到像我現(xiàn)在這種精神境界的人來說,生命不過是一筆可悲的財富罷了。假如我更軟弱一些和盲目一些,生活也許會是快樂的。假如我更堅強(qiáng)一些,生活也許還能懷抱著希望去加以忍受。可是,既然我發(fā)現(xiàn)自己是這樣的人,我想我就是一切人當(dāng)中最適合去死的人!”

“你最適合生活在天堂里而無須品嘗死亡的滋味!”她丈夫回答道,“不過我們?yōu)槭裁匆劦剿滥??這服藥劑不可能失敗??纯此鼘@株植物的作用吧?!?/p>

窗臺上放著一盆患黃斑病的天竺葵,所有的葉片上都布滿了黃色的斑點。艾爾默朝天竺葵下面的泥土里倒了很少一點藥水。不一會兒,天竺葵的根部獲得了藥水的滋潤,難看的黃斑漸漸消融進(jìn)一片生機(jī)勃勃的翠綠之中。

“完全用不著什么來證明,”喬治亞娜平靜地說,“把杯子給我吧,我很高興把一切都交付于你的一句話?!?/p>

“那么,喝吧,崇高的女人!”艾爾默滿懷熾熱的贊賞高聲說,“你的心靈純潔無瑕,你敏感的肉體很快也將變得完美無缺了?!?/p>

她大口地喝下藥水,然后把杯子交還到他手里?!罢媸娣彼届o地笑了笑,“我覺得它好像是來自天堂的甘泉水,因為它里面蘊(yùn)含著我所不了解的溫和的芳香和甘美的滋味。它平息了許多日子以來一直煎熬著我的狂熱的焦渴?,F(xiàn)在,最親愛的,讓我睡去吧。我的肉體感覺正在把我的靈魂包裹起來,就像日落時分玫瑰花心周圍的葉片一樣?!?/p>

她說到最后幾個字的時候已顯示出些微的勉強(qiáng),仿佛要發(fā)出那含糊拖沓的幾個音節(jié)已經(jīng)超出了她的控制力。話剛從唇間吐出,她便沉沉睡去了。艾爾默坐在她旁邊,以那樣急切的感情注視著她的面容,就好像他整個生命的價值都維系在即將顯示的實驗結(jié)果之上。然而與這種情緒交織在一起的,還有一位科學(xué)家富于哲理性的探究態(tài)度。哪怕是最細(xì)微的癥狀也逃不過他的目光。她臉頰上泛起的紅潮,呼吸中的一次輕微失調(diào),眼瞼的一次微小顫動,幾乎難以覺察的一陣全身戰(zhàn)栗——隨著時間一刻刻推移而出現(xiàn)的所有這些細(xì)節(jié),他都記錄在那冊對開本的大書里。這本書前面的每一頁中都留下了他緊張思考的印記,但漫長歲月中的所有思索都凝聚在這最后一頁之中。

他一邊忙著記錄,同時也沒有忘記隨時觀察那個不幸的手形胎記,每次都禁不住要打個寒戰(zhàn)。然而有一次,由于某種奇怪的莫名沖動,他用嘴唇去吻它;而在吻它的時候,他的精神又感覺到畏縮。喬治亞娜在沉睡中不安地動了動,同時咕噥了一聲,仿佛在表示抗議。艾爾默接著繼續(xù)進(jìn)行觀察。他看出了效果。那只緋紅的手印原來在喬治亞娜大理石般蒼白的臉上是極其顯著的,現(xiàn)在卻變得輪廓模糊起來。她的臉色仍然和原來一樣的蒼白,可是那個胎記卻隨著她的每一次呼吸而變得不像原來那樣清晰了。胎記的存在曾令人畏懼,而它的消失則更是令人恐懼。看一看虹霓的色彩是怎樣在天空中消失的,你就會明白那個神秘的表記是怎樣消退的了。

“天哪!它差不多消失了!”艾爾默自言自語道,狂喜之情難以自抑,“現(xiàn)在我?guī)缀蹩床灰娝?。成功了!成功了!現(xiàn)在它只像最淡的玫瑰紅。她的臉頰只要微微泛紅就能掩蓋住它。可是她卻這么蒼白!”

他拉開窗簾,讓白日的自然光照進(jìn)房間里,照在她的臉頰上。就在這時候,他聽見了一陣粗野的、嘶啞的嬉笑聲,他早已熟知那是他的仆人阿米那達(dá)勃表示歡樂的方式。

“啊,你這泥土胚子!啊,你這肉體凡胎!”艾爾默高喊道,瘋狂似的大笑起來,“你給我干得挺好!物質(zhì)與精神——塵世與天堂——這一次兩方面都算盡職盡責(zé)!笑吧!你這感官動物!你贏得了笑的權(quán)利!”

這一陣大喊大叫驚醒了沉睡中的喬治亞娜。她慢慢睜開雙眼,凝視著丈夫特地為此而準(zhǔn)備的鏡子。她發(fā)現(xiàn)那只曾經(jīng)以災(zāi)難般的艷紅燦然閃耀、幾乎駭跑了他們?nèi)啃腋5木p紅手印如今幾乎無法察覺了,這時嘴角掠過了一絲淡淡的微笑。可是接著她又用蘊(yùn)含憂愁和焦急的目光尋找著艾爾默的面孔,而艾爾默完全不能理解她何以會顯示出這種神情。

“我可憐的艾爾默!”她喃喃地說。

“可憐?不,我是最富有、最快樂、最有福的!”他高喊道,“我舉世無雙的新娘啊,成功啦!你是完美無缺的!”

“我可憐的艾爾默,”她帶著無比的柔情又重復(fù)了一遍,“你的志向遠(yuǎn)大,你的行為崇高。你因為懷有如此高尚純潔的感情而棄絕了塵世所能給予你的最好的東西,請你別為此而懊悔。艾爾默,最親愛的艾爾默,我快死了!”

唉!情況的確是這樣!那只致命的手印緊握住生命的秘密,它乃是將天使般的精神與凡人的軀體融合為一體的紐帶。隨著那塊胎記的最后一絲緋紅色彩——那是人類缺陷的唯一標(biāo)志——從她臉上漸漸消失,這位如今完美無瑕的女性便向空中呼出了最后一絲氣息,而她的靈魂在丈夫身旁流連片刻之后,也就冉冉飛向了天國。接著,又聽見了那陣嘶啞的嬉笑聲!塵世凡俗的死亡命數(shù),總是這樣揚(yáng)揚(yáng)得意地戰(zhàn)勝永恒不朽的精神,而精神則在這片半開發(fā)狀態(tài)的朦朧領(lǐng)域中渴求著更高的完美。不過,假如艾爾默達(dá)到了更深刻的智慧境界,他倒也不必這樣拋擲掉自己的幸福,因為人生幸福本可以將他那同屬凡人機(jī)體的塵世生命與神圣超凡的素質(zhì)相融合。他無法承受人世短暫的事物;他未能將目光投向時間陰影的范圍之外,而且因為總是活在永恒之中,他也未能在當(dāng)前生活中找到完美的未來。

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