***** These are the moments which possess the writer, not the lover, and which live on perpetually. One can return to them time and time again in memory, or use them as a fund upon which to build the part of one’s life which is writing. One can debauch17 them with words, but one cannot spoil them. In this context too, I recover another such moment, lying beside a sleeping woman in a cheap room near the mosque18. In that early spring dawn, with its dense19 dew, sketched20 upon the silence which engulfs21 a whole city before the birds awaken22 it, I caught the sweet voice of the blind muezzin from the mosque reciting the Ebed — a voice hanging like a hair in the palm-cooled upper airs of Alexandria. ‘I praise the perfection of God, the Forever existing’ (this repeated thrice, ever more slowly, in a high sweet register). ‘The perfection of God, the Desired, the Existing, the Single, the Supreme23: the perfection of God, the One, the Sole: the perfection of Him who taketh unto himself no male or female partner, nor any like Him, nor any that is disobedient, nor any deputy, equal or offspring. His perfection be extolled24.’ The great prayer wound its way into my sleepy consciousness like a serpent, coil after shining coil of words — the voice of the muezzin sinking from register to register of gravity — until the whole morning seemed dense with its marvellous healing powers, the intimations of a grace undeserved and unexpected, impregnating that shabby room where Melissa lay, breathing as lightly as a gull25, rocked upon the oceanic splendours of a language she would never know.
***** Of Justine who can pretend that she did not have her stupid side? The cult26 of pleasure, small vanities, concern for the good opinion of her inferiors, arrogance27. She could be tiresomely28 exigent when she chose. Yes. Yes. But all these weeds are watered by money. I will say only that in many things she thought as a man, while in her actions she enjoyed some of the free vertical29 independence of the masculine outlook. Our intimacy30 was of a strange mental order. Quite early on I discovered that she could mind-read in an unerring fashion. Ideas came to us simultaneously31. I remember once being made aware that she was sharing in her mind a thought which had just presented itself to mine, namely: ‘This intimacy should go no further, for we have already exhausted32 all its possibilities in our respective imaginations: and what we shall end by discovering, behind the darkly woven colours of sensuality, will be a friendship so profound that we shall become bondsmen forever.’ It was, if you like, the flirtation33 of minds prematurely34 exhausted by experience which seemed so much more dangerous than a love founded in sexual attraction. Knowing how much she loved Nessim and loving him so much myself, I could not contemplate35 this thought without terror. She lay beside me, breathing lightly, and staring at the cherub-haunted ceiling with her great eyes. I said: ‘It can come to nothing, this love-affair between a poor schoolteacher and an Alexandrian society woman. How bitter it would be to have it all end in a conventional scandal which would leave us alone together and give you the task of deciding how to dispose of me.’ Justine hated to hear the truth spoken. She turned upon one elbow and lowering those magnificent troubled eyes to mine she stared at me for a long moment. ‘There is no choice in this matter’ she said in that hoarse36 voice I had come to love so much. ‘You talk as if there was a choice. We are not strong or evil enough to exercise choice. All this is part of an experiment arranged by something else, the city perhaps, or another part of ourselves. How do I know?’ I remember her sitting before the multiple mirrors at the dressmaker’s, being fitted for a shark-skin costume, and saying: ‘Look! five different pictures of the same subject. Now if I wrote I would try for a multi-dimensional effect in character, a sort of prism-sightedness. Why should not people show more than one profile at a time?’ Now she yawned and lit a cigarette; and sitting up in bed clasped her slim ankles with her hands; reciting slowly, wryly37, those marvellous lines of the old Greek poet about a love-affair long since past — they are lost in English. And hearing her speak his lines, touching38 every syllable39 of the thoughtful ironic40 Greek with tenderness, I felt once more the strange equivocal power of the city — its flat alluvial41 landscape and exhausted airs — and knew her for a true child of Alexandria; which is neither Greek, Syrian nor Egyptian, but a hybrid42: a joint43. And with what feeling she reached the passage where the old man throws aside the ancient love-letter which had so moved him and exclaims: ‘I go sadly out on to the balcony; anything to change this train of thought, even if only to see some little movement in the city I love, in its streets and shops!’ Herself pushing open the shutters44 to stand on the dark balcony above a city of coloured lights: feeling the evening wind stir from the confines of Asia: her body for an instant forgotten.
***** ‘Prince’ Nessim is of course a joke; at any rate to the shopkeepers and black-coated commer.ants who saw him drawn45 soundlessly down the Canopic way in the great silver Rolls with the daffodil hub-caps. To begin with he was a Copt, not a Moslem46. Yet somehow the nickname was truly chosen for Nessim was princely in his detachment from the common greed in which the decent instincts of the Alexandrians — even the very rich ones — foundered47. Yet the factors which gave him a reputation for eccentricity48 were neither of them remarkable49 to those who had lived outside the Levant. He did not care for money, except to spend it — that was the first: the second was that he did not own a gar.onnière, and appeared to be quite faithful to Justine — an unheard of state of affairs. As for money, being so inordinately50 rich he was possessed by a positive distaste for it, and would never carry it on his person. He spent in Arabian fashion and gave notes of hand to shopkeepers; night-clubs and restaurants accepted his signed cheques. Nevertheless his debts were punctually honoured, and every morning Selim his secretary was sent out with the car to trace the route of the previous day and to pay any debts accumulated in the course of it. This attitude was considered eccentric and high-handed in the extreme by the inhabitants of the city whose coarse and derived51 distinctions, menial preoccupations and faulty education gave them no clue to what style in the European sense was. But Nessim was born to this manner, not merely educated to it; in this little world of studied carnal moneymaking he could find no true province of operation for a spirit essentially52 gentle and contemplative. The least assertive53 of men, he caused comment by acts which bore the true stamp of his own personality. People were inclined to attribute his manners to a foreign education, but in fact Germany and England had done little but confuse him and unfit him for the life of the city. The one had implanted a taste for metaphysical speculation54 in what was a natural Mediterranean55 mind, while Oxford56 had tried to make him donnish and had only succeeded in developing his philosophic57 bent58 to the point where he was incapable59 of practising the art he most loved, painting. He thought and suffered a good deal but he lacked the resolution to dare — the first requisite60 of a practitioner61. Nessim was at odds62 with the city, but since his enormous fortune brought him daily into touch with the business men of the place they eased their constraint63 by treating him with a humorous indulgence, a condescension64 such as one would bestow65 upon someone who was a little soft in the head. It was perhaps not surprising if you should walk in upon him at the office — that sarcophagus of tubular steel and lighted glass — and find him seated like an orphan66 at the great desk (covered in bells and pulleys and patent lights) — eating brown bread and butter and reading Vasari as he absently signed letters or vouchers67. He looked up at you with that pale almond face, the expression shuttered, withdrawn68, almost pleading. And yet somewhere through all this gentleness ran a steel cord, for his staff was perpetually surprised to find out that, inattentive as he appeared to be, there was no detail of the business which he did not know; while hardly a transaction he made did not turn out to be based on a stroke of judgement. He was something of an oracle69 to his own employees — and yet (they sighed and shrugged70 their shoulders) he seemed not to care! Not to care about gain, that is what Alexandria recognizes as madness. I knew them by sight for many months before we actually met — as I knew everyone in the city. By sight and no less by repute: for their emphatic71, authoritative72 and quite conventionless way of living had given them a certain notoriety among our provincial73 city-dwellers. She was reputed to have had many lovers, and Nessim was regarded as a mari complaisant74. I had watched them dancing together several times, he slender and with a deep waist like a woman, and long arched beautiful hands; Justine’s lovely head — the deep bevel of that Arabian nose and those translucent75 eyes, enlarged by belladonna. She gazed about her like a half-trained panther. Then: once I had been persuaded to lecture upon the native poet of the city at the Atelier des Beaux Arts — a sort of club where gifted amateurs of the arts could meet, rent studios and so on. I had accepted because it meant a little money for Melissa’s new coat, and autumn was on the way. But it was painful to me, feeling the old man all round me, so to speak, impregnating the gloomy streets around the lecture-room with the odour of those verses distilled76 from the shabby but rewarding loves he had experienced — loves perhaps bought with money, and lasting77 a few moments, yet living on now in his verse — so deliberately78 and tenderly had he captured the adventive minute and made all its colours fast. What an impertinence to lecture upon an ironist who so naturally, and with such fineness of instinct took his subject-matter from the streets and brothels of Alexandria! And to be talking, moreover, not to an audience of haberdashers’ assistants and small clerks — his immortals79 — but to a dignified80 semi-circle of society ladies for whom the culture he represented was a sort of blood-bank: they had come along for a transfusion81. Many had actually foregone a bridge-party to do so, though they knew that instead of being uplifted they would be stupefied. I remember saying only that I was haunted by his face — the horrifyingly82 sad gentle face of the last photograph; and when the solid burghers’ wives had dribbled83 down the stone staircase into the wet streets where their lighted cars awaited them, leaving the gaunt room echoing with their perfumes, I noticed that they had left behind them one solitary84 student of the passions and the arts. She sat in a thoughtful way at the back of the hall, her legs crossed in a mannish attitude, puffing85 a cigarette. She did not look at me but crudely at the ground under her feet. I was flattered to think that perhaps one person had appreciated my difficulties. I gathered up my damp brief case and ancient mackintosh and made my way down to where a thin penetrating86 drizzle87 swept the streets from the direction of the sea. I made for my lodgings88 where by now Melissa would be awake, and would have set out our evening meal on the newspaper-covered table, having first sent Hamid out to the baker’s to fetch the roast — we had no oven of our own. It was cold in the street and I crossed to the lighted blaze of shops in Rue3 Fuad. In a grocer’s window I saw a small tin of olives with the name Orvieto on it, and overcome by a sudden longing89 to be on the right side of the Mediterranean, entered the shop: bought it: had it opened there and then: and sitting down at a marble table in that gruesome light I began to eat Italy, its dark scorched90 flesh, hand-modelled spring soil, dedicated91 vines. I felt that Melissa would never understand this. I should have to pretend I had lost the money. I did not see at first the great car which she had abandoned in the street with its engine running. She came into the shop with swift and resolute92 suddenness and said, with the air of authority that Lesbians, or women with money, assume with the obviously indigent93: ‘What did you mean by your remark about the antinomian nature of irony94?’ — or some such sally which I have forgotten. Unable to disentangle myself from Italy I looked up boorishly95 and saw her leaning down at me from the mirrors on three sides of the room, her dark thrilling face full of a troubled, arrogant96 reserve. I had of course forgotten what I had said about irony or anything else for that matter, and I told her so with an indifference97 that was not assumed. She heaved a short sigh, as if of natural relief, and sitting down opposite me lit a French caporal and with short decisive inspirations blew thin streamers of blue smoke up into the harsh light. She looked to me a trifle unbalanced, as she watched me with a candour I found embarrassing — it was as if she were trying to decide to what use I could be put. ‘I liked’ she said ‘the way you quoted his lines about the city. Your Greek is good. Doubtless you are a writer.’ I said: ‘Doubtless.’ Not to be known always wounds. There seemed no point in pursuing all this. I have always hated literary conversation. I offered her an olive which she ate swiftly, spitting the pit into her gloved hand like a cat where she held it absently, saying: ‘I want to take you to Nessim, my husband. Will you come?’ A policeman had appeared in the doorway, obviously troubled about the abandoned car. That was the first time I saw the great house of Nessim with its statues and palm loggias, its Courbets and Bonnards — and so on. It was both beautiful and horrible. Justine hurried up the great staircase, pausing only to transfer her olive-pit from the pocket of her coat to a Chinese vase, calling all the time to Nessim. We went from room to room, fracturing the silences. He answered at last from the great studio on the roof and racing98 to him like a gun-dog she metaphorically99 dropped me at his feet and stood back, wagging her tail. She had achieved me. Nessim was sitting on the top of a ladder reading, and he came slowly down to us, looking first at one and then at the other. His shyness could not get any purchase of my shabbiness, damp hair, tin of olives, and for my part I could offer no explanation of my presence, since I did not know for what purpose I had been brought here. I took pity on him and offered him an olive; and sitting down together we finished the tin, while Justine foraged100 for drinks, talking, if I remember, of Orvieto where neither of us had been. It is such a solace101 to think back to that first meeting. Never have I been closer to them both — closer, I mean, to their marriage; they seemed to me then to be the magnificent two-headed animal a marriage could be. Watching the benign102 warmth of the light in his eye I realized, as I recalled all the scandalous rumours103 about Justine, that whatever she had done had been done in a sense for him — even what was evil or harmful in the eyes of the world. Her love was like a skin in which he lay sewn like the infant Heracles; and her efforts to achieve herself had led her always towards, and not away from him. The world has no use for this sort of paradox104 I know; but it seemed to me then that Nessim knew and accepted her in a way impossible to explain to someone for whom love is still entangled105 with the qualities of possessiveness. Once, much later, he told me: ‘What was I to do? Justine was too strong for me in too many ways. I could only out-love her — that was my long suit. I went ahead of her — I anticipated every lapse106; she found me already there, at every point where she fell down, ready to help her to her feet and show that it did not matter. After all she compromised the least part of me — my reputation.’ This was much later: before the unlucky complex of misfortunes had engulfed107 us we did not know each other well enough to talk as freely as this. I also remember him saying, once — this was at the summer villa108 near Bourg El Arab: ‘It will puzzle you when I tell you that I thought Justine great, in a sort of way. There are forms of greatness, you know, which when not applied109 in art or religion make havoc110 of ordinary life. Her gift was misapplied in being directed towards love. Certainly she was bad in many ways, but they were all small ways. Nor can I say that she harmed nobody. But those she harmed most she made fruitful. She expelled people from their old selves. It was bound to hurt, and many mistook the nature of the pain she inflicted111. Not I.’ And smiling his well-known smile, in which sweetness was mixed with an inexpressible bitterness, he repeated softly under his breath the words: ‘Not I.’
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1
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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decomposing
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| 腐烂( decompose的现在分词 )； （使）分解； 分解（某物质、光线等） | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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overflow
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| v.(使)外溢，(使)溢出；溢出，流出，漫出 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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omens
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| n.前兆，预兆( omen的名词复数 ) | |
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cylinder
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| n.圆筒，柱(面)，汽缸 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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inhaled
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| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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debauch
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| v.使堕落，放纵 | |
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mosque
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| n.清真寺 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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sketched
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| v.草拟（sketch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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engulfs
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| v.吞没，包住( engulf的第三人称单数 ) | |
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awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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extolled
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| v.赞颂，赞扬，赞美( extol的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gull
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| n.鸥；受骗的人；v.欺诈 | |
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cult
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| n.异教，邪教；时尚，狂热的崇拜 | |
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arrogance
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| n.傲慢，自大 | |
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tiresomely
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| adj. 令人厌倦的，讨厌的 | |
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vertical
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| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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flirtation
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| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
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prematurely
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| adv.过早地，贸然地 | |
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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wryly
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| adv. 挖苦地，嘲弄地 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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ironic
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| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
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alluvial
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| adj.冲积的；淤积的 | |
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hybrid
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| n.(动，植）杂种，混合物 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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45
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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46
Moslem
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| n.回教徒，穆罕默德信徒；adj.回教徒的，回教的 | |
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47
foundered
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| v.创始人( founder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
eccentricity
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| n.古怪，反常，怪癖 | |
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49
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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50
inordinately
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| adv.无度地，非常地 | |
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51
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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52
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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53
assertive
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| adj.果断的，自信的，有冲劲的 | |
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54
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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55
Mediterranean
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| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
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56
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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57
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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58
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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59
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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60
requisite
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| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
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61
practitioner
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| n.实践者，从事者；(医生或律师等)开业者 | |
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62
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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63
constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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64
condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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65
bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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66
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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67
vouchers
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| n.凭证( voucher的名词复数 )；证人；证件；收据 | |
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68
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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69
oracle
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| n.神谕，神谕处，预言 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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authoritative
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| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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complaisant
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| adj.顺从的，讨好的 | |
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translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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distilled
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| adj.由蒸馏得来的v.蒸馏( distil的过去式和过去分词 )；从…提取精华 | |
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lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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immortals
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| 不朽的人物( immortal的名词复数 )； 永生不朽者 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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81
transfusion
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| n.输血，输液 | |
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horrifyingly
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dribbled
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| v.流口水( dribble的过去式和过去分词 )；（使液体）滴下或作细流；运球，带球 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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indigent
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| adj.贫穷的，贫困的 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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boorishly
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arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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metaphorically
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| adv. 用比喻地 | |
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foraged
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| v.搜寻（食物），尤指动物觅（食）( forage的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指用手）搜寻（东西） | |
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solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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paradox
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| n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法；自相矛盾的人(物) | |
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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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107
engulfed
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| v.吞没，包住( engulf的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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