Mino THE DAYS went by, and she received no sign. Was he going to ignore her, was he going to take no further notice of her secret? A dreary1 weight of anxiety and acrid2 bitterness settled on her. And yet Ursula knew she was only deceiving herself, and that he would proceed. She said no word to anybody.
Then, sure enough, there came a note from him, asking if she would come to tea with Gudrun, to his rooms in town.
`Why does he ask Gudrun as well?' she asked herself at once. `Does he want to protect himself, or does he think I would not go alone?' She was tormented3 by the thought that he wanted to protect himself. But at the end of all, she only said to herself:
`I don't want Gudrun to be there, because I want him to say something more to me. So I shan't tell Gudrun anything about it, and I shall go alone. Then I shall know.'
She found herself sitting on the tram-car, mounting up the hill going out of the town, to the place where he had his lodging4. She seemed to have passed into a kind of dream world, absolved5 from the conditions of actuality. She watched the sordid6 streets of the town go by beneath her, as if she were a spirit disconnected from the material universe. What had it all to do with her? She was palpitating and formless within the flux7 of the ghost life. She could not consider any more, what anybody would say of her or think about her. People had passed out of her range, she was absolved. She had fallen strange and dim, out of the sheath of the material life, as a berry falls from the only world it has ever known, down out of the sheath on to the real unknown.
Birkin was standing8 in the middle of the room, when she was shown in by the landlady9. He too was moved outside himself. She saw him agitated10 and shaken, a frail11, unsubstantial body silent like the node of some violent force, that came out from him and shook her almost into a swoon.
`You are alone?' he said.
`Yes - Gudrun could not come.'
He instantly guessed why.
And they were both seated in silence, in the terrible tension of the room. She was aware that it was a pleasant room, full of light and very restful in its form -- aware also of a fuchsia tree, with dangling12 scarlet13 and purple flowers.
`How nice the fuchsias are!' she said, to break the silence.
`Aren't they! Did you think I had forgotten what I said?'
A swoon went over Ursula's mind.
`I don't want you to remember it -- if you don't want to,' she struggled to say, through the dark mist that covered her.
There was silence for some moments.
`No,' he said. `It isn't that. Only -- if we are going to know each other, we must pledge ourselves for ever. If we are going to make a relationship, even of friendship, there must be something final and infallible about it.'
There was a clang of mistrust and almost anger in his voice. She did not answer. Her heart was too much contracted. She could not have spoken.
Seeing she was not going to reply, he continued, almost bitterly, giving himself away:
`I can't say it is love I have to offer -- and it isn't love I want. It is something much more impersonal14 and harder -- and rarer.'
There was a silence, out of which she said:
`You mean you don't love me?'
She suffered furiously, saying that.
`Yes, if you like to put it like that. Though perhaps that isn't true. I don't know. At any rate, I don't feel the emotion of love for you -- no, and I don't want to. Because it gives out in the last issues.'
`Love gives out in the last issues?' she asked, feeling numb15 to the lips.
`Yes, it does. At the very last, one is alone, beyond the influence of love. There is a real impersonal me, that is beyond love, beyond any emotional relationship. So it is with you. But we want to delude16 ourselves that love is the root. It isn't. It is only the branches. The root is beyond love, a naked kind of isolation17, an isolated18 me, that does not meet and mingle19, and never can.'
She watched him with wide, troubled eyes. His face was incandescent20 in its abstract earnestness.
`And you mean you can't love?' she asked, in trepidation21.
`Yes, if you like. I have loved. But there is a beyond, where there is not love.'
She could not submit to this. She felt it swooning over her. But she could not submit.
`But how do you know -- if you have never really loved?' she asked.
`It is true, what I say; there is a beyond, in you, in me, which is further than love, beyond the scope, as stars are beyond the scope of vision, some of them.'
`Then there is no love,' cried Ursula.
`Ultimately, no, there is something else. But, ultimately, there is no love.'
Ursula was given over to this statement for some moments. Then she half rose from her chair, saying, in a final, repellent voice:
`Then let me go home -- what am I doing here?'
`There is the door,' he said. `You are a free agent.'
He was suspended finely and perfectly22 in this extremity23. She hung motionless for some seconds, then she sat down again.
`If there is no love, what is there?' she cried, almost jeering24.
`Something,' he said, looking at her, battling with his soul, with all his might.
`What?'
He was silent for a long time, unable to be in communication with her while she was in this state of opposition25.
`There is,' he said, in a voice of pure abstraction; `a final me which is stark26 and impersonal and beyond responsibility. So there is a final you. And it is there I would want to meet you -- not in the emotional, loving plane -- but there beyond, where there is no speech and no terms of agreement. There we are two stark, unknown beings, two utterly27 strange creatures, I would want to approach you, and you me. And there could be no obligation, because there is no standard for action there, because no understanding has been reaped from that plane. It is quite inhuman28, -- so there can be no calling to book, in any form whatsoever29 -- because one is outside the pale of all that is accepted, and nothing known applies. One can only follow the impulse, taking that which lies in front, and responsible for nothing, asked for nothing, giving nothing, only each taking according to the primal30 desire.'
Ursula listened to this speech, her mind dumb and almost senseless, what he said was so unexpected and so untoward31.
`It is just purely32 selfish,' she said.
`If it is pure, yes. But it isn't selfish at all. Because I don't know what I want of you. I deliver myself over to the unknown, in coming to you, I am without reserves or defences, stripped entirely33, into the unknown. Only there needs the pledge between us, that we will both cast off everything, cast off ourselves even, and cease to be, so that that which is perfectly ourselves can take place in us.'
She pondered along her own line of thought.
`But it is because you love me, that you want me?' she persisted.
`No it isn't. It is because I believe in you -- if I do believe in you.'
`Aren't you sure?' she laughed, suddenly hurt.
He was looking at her steadfastly34, scarcely heeding36 what she said.
`Yes, I must believe in you, or else I shouldn't be here saying this,' he replied. `But that is all the proof I have. I don't feel any very strong belief at this particular moment.'
She disliked him for this sudden relapse into weariness and faithlessness.
`But don't you think me good-looking?' she persisted, in a mocking voice.
He looked at her, to see if he felt that she was good-looking.
`I don't feel that you're good-looking,' he said.
`Not even attractive?' she mocked, bitingly.
He knitted his brows in sudden exasperation37.
`Don't you see that it's not a question of visual appreciation38 in the least,' he cried. `I don't want to see you. I've seen plenty of women, I'm sick and weary of seeing them. I want a woman I don't see.'
`I'm sorry I can't oblige you by being invisible,' she laughed.
`Yes,' he said, `you are invisible to me, if you don't force me to be visually aware of you. But I don't want to see you or hear you.'
`What did you ask me to tea for, then?' she mocked.
But he would take no notice of her. He was talking to himself.
`I want to find you, where you don't know your own existence, the you that your common self denies utterly. But I don't want your good looks, and I don't want your womanly feelings, and I don't want your thoughts nor opinions nor your ideas -- they are all bagatelles to me.'
`You are very conceited40, Monsieur,' she mocked. `How do you know what my womanly feelings are, or my thoughts or my ideas? You don't even know what I think of you now.'
`Nor do I care in the slightest.'
`I think you are very silly. I think you want to tell me you love me, and you go all this way round to do it.'
`All right,' he said, looking up with sudden exasperation. `Now go away then, and leave me alone. I don't want any more of your meretricious41 persiflage43.'
`Is it really persiflage?' she mocked, her face really relaxing into laughter. She interpreted it, that he had made a deep confession44 of love to her. But he was so absurd in his words, also.
They were silent for many minutes, she was pleased and elated like a child. His concentration broke, he began to look at her simply and naturally.
`What I want is a strange conjunction with you --' he said quietly; `not meeting and mingling45 -- you are quite right -- but an equilibrium46, a pure balance of two single beings -- as the stars balance each other.'
She looked at him. He was very earnest, and earnestness was always rather ridiculous, commonplace, to her. It made her feel unfree and uncomfortable. Yet she liked him so much. But why drag in the stars.
`Isn't this rather sudden?' she mocked.
He began to laugh.
`Best to read the terms of the contract, before we sign,' he said.
A young grey cat that had been sleeping on the sofa jumped down and stretched, rising on its long legs, and arching its slim back. Then it sat considering for a moment, erect47 and kingly. And then, like a dart48, it had shot out of the room, through the open window-doors, and into the garden.
`What's he after?' said Birkin, rising.
The young cat trotted49 lordly down the path, waving his tail. He was an ordinary tabby with white paws, a slender young gentleman. A crouching50, fluffy51, brownish-grey cat was stealing up the side of the fence. The Mino walked statelily up to her, with manly39 nonchalance52. She crouched53 before him and pressed herself on the ground in humility54, a fluffy soft outcast, looking up at him with wild eyes that were green and lovely as great jewels. He looked casually55 down on her. So she crept a few inches further, proceeding56 on her way to the back door, crouching in a wonderful, soft, self-obliterating manner, and moving like a shadow.
He, going statelily on his slim legs, walked after her, then suddenly, for pure excess, he gave her a light cuff57 with his paw on the side of her face. She ran off a few steps, like a blown leaf along the ground, then crouched unobtrusively, in submissive, wild patience. The Mino pretended to take no notice of her. He blinked his eyes superbly at the landscape. In a minute she drew herself together and moved softly, a fleecy brown-grey shadow, a few paces forward. She began to quicken her pace, in a moment she would be gone like a dream, when the young grey lord sprang before her, and gave her a light handsome cuff. She subsided58 at once, submissively.
`She is a wild cat,' said Birkin. `She has come in from the woods.'
The eyes of the stray cat flared59 round for a moment, like great green fires staring at Birkin. Then she had rushed in a soft swift rush, half way down the garden. There she paused to look round. The Mino turned his face in pure superiority to his master, and slowly closed his eyes, standing in statuesque young perfection. The wild cat's round, green, wondering eyes were staring all the while like uncanny fires. Then again, like a shadow, she slid towards the kitchen.
In a lovely springing leap, like a wind, the Mino was upon her, and had boxed her twice, very definitely, with a white, delicate fist. She sank and slid back, unquestioning. He walked after her, and cuffed60 her once or twice, leisurely61, with sudden little blows of his magic white paws.
`Now why does he do that?' cried Ursula in indignation.
`They are on intimate terms,' said Birkin.
`And is that why he hits her?'
`Yes,' laughed Birkin, `I think he wants to make it quite obvious to her.'
`Isn't it horrid62 of him!' she cried; and going out into the garden she called to the Mino:
`Stop it, don't bully63. Stop hitting her.'
The stray cat vanished like a swift, invisible shadow. The Mino glanced at Ursula, then looked from her disdainfully to his master.
`Are you a bully, Mino?' Birkin asked.
The young slim cat looked at him, and slowly narrowed its eyes. Then it glanced away at the landscape, looking into the distance as if completely oblivious66 of the two human beings.
`Mino,' said Ursula, `I don't like you. You are a bully like all males.'
`No,' said Birkin, `he is justified67. He is not a bully. He is only insisting to the poor stray that she shall acknowledge him as a sort of fate, her own fate: because you can see she is fluffy and promiscuous68 as the wind. I am with him entirely. He wants superfine stability.'
`Yes, I know!' cried Ursula. `He wants his own way -- I know what your fine words work down to -- bossiness69, I call it, bossiness.'
The young cat again glanced at Birkin in disdain64 of the noisy woman.
`I quite agree with you, Miciotto,' said Birkin to the cat. `Keep your male dignity, and your higher understanding.'
Again the Mino narrowed his eyes as if he were looking at the sun. Then, suddenly affecting to have no connection at all with the two people, he went trotting70 off, with assumed spontaneity and gaiety, his tail erect, his white feet blithe71.
`Now he will find the belle72 sauvage once more, and entertain her with his superior wisdom,' laughed Birkin.
Ursula looked at the man who stood in the garden with his hair blowing and his eyes smiling ironically, and she cried:
`Oh it makes me so cross, this assumption of male superiority! And it is such a lie! One wouldn't mind if there were any justification73 for it.'
`The wild cat,' said Birkin, `doesn't mind. She perceives that it is justified.'
`Does she!' cried Ursula. `And tell it to the Horse Marines.'
`To them also.'
`It is just like Gerald Crich with his horse -- a lust74 for bullying75 -- a real Wille zur Macht -- so base, so petty.'
`I agree that the Wille zur Macht is a base and petty thing. But with the Mino, it is the desire to bring this female cat into a pure stable equilibrium, a transcendent and abiding76 rapport77 with the single male. Whereas without him, as you see, she is a mere42 stray, a fluffy sporadic78 bit of chaos79. It is a volonte de pouvoir, if you like, a will to ability, taking pouvoir as a verb.'
`Ah --! Sophistries80! It's the old Adam.'
`Oh yes. Adam kept Eve in the indestructible paradise, when he kept her single with himself, like a star in its orbit.'
`Yes -- yes --' cried Ursula, pointing her finger at him. `There you are -- a star in its orbit! A satellite -- a satellite of Mars -- that's what she is to be! There -- there -- you've given yourself away! You want a satellite, Mars and his satellite! You've said it -- you've said it -- you've dished yourself!'
He stood smiling in frustration81 and amusement and irritation82 and admiration83 and love. She was so quick, and so lambent, like discernible fire, and so vindictive84, and so rich in her dangerous flamy sensitiveness.
`I've not said it at all,' he replied, `if you will give me a chance to speak.'
`No, no!' she cried. `I won't let you speak. You've said it, a satellite, you're not going to wriggle85 out of it. You've said it.'
`You'll never believe now that I haven't said it,' he answered. `I neither implied nor indicated nor mentioned a satellite, nor intended a satellite, never.'
`You prevaricator86!' she cried, in real indignation.
`Tea is ready, sir,' said the landlady from the doorway87.
They both looked at her, very much as the cats had looked at them, a little while before.
`Thank you, Mrs Daykin.'
An interrupted silence fell over the two of them, a moment of breach88.
`Come and have tea,' he said.
`Yes, I should love it,' she replied, gathering89 herself together.
They sat facing each other across the tea table.
`I did not say, nor imply, a satellite. I meant two single equal stars balanced in conjunction --'
`You gave yourself away, you gave away your little game completely,' she cried, beginning at once to eat. He saw that she would take no further heed35 of his expostulation, so he began to pour the tea.
`What good things to eat!' she cried.
`Take your own sugar,' he said.
He handed her her cup. He had everything so nice, such pretty cups and plates, painted with mauve-lustre and green, also shapely bowls and glass plates, and old spoons, on a woven cloth of pale grey and black and purple. It was very rich and fine. But Ursula could see Hermione's influence.
`Your things are so lovely!' she said, almost angrily.
`I like them. It gives me real pleasure to use things that are attractive in themselves -- pleasant things. And Mrs Daykin is good. She thinks everything is wonderful, for my sake.'
`Really,' said Ursula, `landladies90 are better than wives, nowadays. They certainly care a great deal more. It is much more beautiful and complete here now, than if you were married.'
`But think of the emptiness within,' he laughed.
`No,' she said. `I am jealous that men have such perfect landladies and such beautiful lodgings91. There is nothing left them to desire.'
`In the house-keeping way, we'll hope not. It is disgusting, people marrying for a home.'
`Still,' said Ursula, `a man has very little need for a woman now, has he?'
`In outer things, maybe -- except to share his bed and bear his children. But essentially92, there is just the same need as there ever was. Only nobody takes the trouble to be essential.'
`How essential?' she said.
`I do think,' he said, `that the world is only held together by the mystic conjunction, the ultimate unison93 between people -- a bond. And the immediate94 bond is between man and woman.'
`But it's such old hat,' said Ursula. `Why should love be a bond? No, I'm not having any.'
`If you are walking westward,' he said, `you forfeit95 the northern and eastward96 and southern direction. If you admit a unison, you forfeit all the possibilities of chaos.'
`But love is freedom,' she declared.
`Don't cant97 to me,' he replied. `Love is a direction which excludes all other directions. It's a freedom together, if you like.'
`No,' she said, `love includes everything.'
`Sentimental cant,' he replied. `You want the state of chaos, that's all. It is ultimate nihilism, this freedom-in-love business, this freedom which is love and love which is freedom. As a matter of fact, if you enter into a pure unison, it is irrevocable, and it is never pure till it is irrevocable. And when it is irrevocable, it is one way, like the path of a star.'
`Ha!' she cried bitterly. `It is the old dead morality.'
`No,' he said, `it is the law of creation. One is committed. One must commit oneself to a conjunction with the other -- for ever. But it is not selfless -- it is a maintaining of the self in mystic balance and integrity -like a star balanced with another star.'
`I don't trust you when you drag in the stars,' she said. `If you were quite true, it wouldn't be necessary to be so far-fetched.'
`Don't trust me then,' he said, angry. `It is enough that I trust myself.'
`And that is where you make another mistake,' she replied. `You don't trust yourself. You don't fully65 believe yourself what you are saying. You don't really want this conjunction, otherwise you wouldn't talk so much about it, you'd get it.'
He was suspended for a moment, arrested.
`How?' he said.
`By just loving,' she retorted in defiance98.
He was still a moment, in anger. Then he said:
`I tell you, I don't believe in love like that. I tell you, you want love to administer to your egoism, to subserve you. Love is a process of subservience99 with you -- and with everybody. I hate it.'
`No,' she cried, pressing back her head like a cobra, her eyes flashing. `It is a process of pride -- I want to be proud --'
`Proud and subservient100, proud and subservient, I know you,' he retorted dryly. `Proud and subservient, then subservient to the proud -- I know you and your love. It is a tick-tack, tick-tack, a dance of opposites.'
`Are you sure?' she mocked wickedly, `what my love is?'
`Yes, I am,' he retorted.
`So cocksure!' she said. `How can anybody ever be right, who is so cocksure? It shows you are wrong.'
They had talked and struggled till they were both wearied out.
`Tell me about yourself and your people,' he said.
And she told him about the Brangwens, and about her mother, and about Skrebensky, her first love, and about her later experiences. He sat very still, watching her as she talked. And he seemed to listen with reverence102. Her face was beautiful and full of baffled light as she told him all the things that had hurt her or perplexed103 her so deeply. He seemed to warm and comfort his soul at the beautiful light of her nature.
`If she really could pledge herself,' he thought to himself, with passionate104 insistence105 but hardly any hope. Yet a curious little irresponsible laughter appeared in his heart.
`We have all suffered so much,' he mocked, ironically.
She looked up at him, and a flash of wild gaiety went over her face, a strange flash of yellow light coming from her eyes.
`Haven't we!' she cried, in a high, reckless cry. `It is almost absurd, isn't it?'
`Quite absurd,' he said. `Suffering bores me, any more.'
`So it does me.'
He was almost afraid of the mocking recklessness of her splendid face. Here was one who would go to the whole lengths of heaven or hell, whichever she had to go. And he mistrusted her, he was afraid of a woman capable of such abandon, such dangerous thoroughness of destructivity. Yet he chuckled106 within himself also.
She came over to him and put her hand on his shoulder, looking down at him with strange golden-lighted eyes, very tender, but with a curious devilish look lurking107 underneath108.
`Say you love me, say "my love" to me,' she pleaded
He looked back into her eyes, and saw. His face flickered109 with sardonic110 comprehension.
`I love you right enough,' he said, grimly. `But I want it to be something else.'
`But why? But why?' she insisted, bending her wonderful luminous111 face to him. `Why isn't it enough?'
`Because we can go one better,' he said, putting his arms round her.
`No, we can't,' she said, in a strong, voluptuous112 voice of yielding. `We can only love each other. Say "my love" to me, say it, say it.'
She put her arms round his neck. He enfolded her, and kissed her subtly, murmuring in a subtle voice of love, and irony113, and submission114:
`Yes, -- my love, yes, -- my love. Let love be enough then. I love you then -- I love you. I'm bored by the rest.'
`Yes,' she murmured, nestling very sweet and close to him.
光阴荏苒，可她没有发现什么迹象。他是否不理她了，是否对她的秘密不屑一顾？她感到焦虑、痛苦极了。可厄秀拉知道她这是自欺欺人，她明明知道他会来的。因此，她对别人没说起过一个字。
果然不出所料，他写信来了，问她是否愿意和戈珍一起到他在城里的住宅里去吃茶。
“他为什么要连戈珍一块儿请？”她立即提出这个问题。
“他是想保护自己还是认为我不能独自前去？”
一想到他要保护自己，她就感到难受。最终她自语道：
“不，我不想让戈珍也在场，因为我想让他对我多说点什么。我决不把这事儿告诉戈珍，我会独自去的，到那时我就明白是怎么回事了。”
她坐电上车出了城，到他山上住宅去。她觉得自己远离了现实，似乎进入了一个梦幻般的世界。她看着车下肮脏的街道，似乎觉得自己是一个与这个物质世界无关的人。这些跟她有什么关系呢？她感到自己在魔幻般生活的流动中喘息着，失去了自己的形状。她再也无法顾及别人如何议论她，如何看她了。别人对她来说是不存在的，她跟他们没关系。她脱离了物质生活的羁绊，就象一只浆果从它熟知的世界中落下来，落入未知世界中，变得陌生、阴郁。
当女房东把她引进屋时，伯金正站在屋中央。他走了出来。她看到他有些狂躁、震惊，似乎有一种巨大的力量默默地发自他柔弱的躯体，这力量震动了她，令她神魂颠倒。
“就你一个人？”他问。
“是的！戈珍不能来。”
他沉默了，要猜个究竟。
然后他们双双在沉寂的气氛中落了座，感到很紧张。她注意到这屋子很舒服，屋里采光充足环境很安宁。她还发现屋里有一盆倒挂金钟，有腥红和紫红色的花儿垂落下来。
“多么美的倒挂金钟啊！”她一句话打破了沉默。
“是吗？你是否以为我忘记了我说过的话？”
厄秀拉只感到一阵晕眩。
“如果你不想记住，我并不强求你记住，”厄秀拉昏昏沉沉地强打起精神说。
屋里一片寂静。
“不，”他说，“不是那个问题。只是，如果我们要相互了解，我们就得下定决心才行。如果我们要建立联系，甚至建立友谊，就必须有一种永恒，不可改变的东西作保证。”
他的语调中流露出一种对她的不信任，甚至气恼。她没有回答，她的心缩紧了，令她无法开口说话。
见她不回答，他仍旧刻薄地说他的话，完全忘却了自己。
“我无法说我要给予的是爱，我需要的也不是爱。我所说的是某种超人性的、更加艰难、更加罕见的东西。”
她沉默了一下说：
“你的意思是你不爱我？”
说完这句话她都快气疯了。
“是的，如果你这么说就是这么回事，尽管并不尽然。我不知道。不管怎样，我并没有爱你的感觉，我没有感受到这种情绪，没有，我并不需要这个。它最终会出现的。”
“你是说最终会有爱？”她问，感到嘴唇发木。
“是的，是这样的，当一个人最终只孤身一人，超越爱的影响时。到那时会有一个超越自我的我，它是超越爱、超越任何感情关系的。同你在一起也是如此。可是我们却自我欺骗，认为爱是根。其实不然。爱只是枝节。根是超越爱，纯粹孤独的我，它与什么也不相会、不相混，永远不会。”
她睁大一双忧虑的眼睛看着他，他的脸上带着很诚肯的表情，微微地闪光。
“你是说你无法爱，是吗？”她的声音颤抖了。
“也许就象你说的那样吧。我爱过。可是有那么一种超越爱的东西。”
她无法忍受。她感到晕眩。她就是无法忍受。
“可是，如果你从没爱过的话，你怎么知道这一点呢？”她问。
“我说的是实话。无论你还是我，心中都有一种超越爱，比爱更深远的东西，它超越了人们的视野，就象有些星星是超越人们视野的一样。”
“那就是说没有爱了。”厄秀拉叫道。
“归根结底，没有，但有什么别的东西。但归根结底是没有爱的。”
厄秀拉一时间对伯金的话瞠目结舌。然后，她微微站起身，终于有些不耐烦的说：
“那，让我回家吧，我在这儿算干什么的？”
“门在那儿，”他说，“你是自由的，随便吧。”
在这种过激行动中他表现得很出色。她犹豫了片刻又坐回椅子中去。
“如果没有爱，那有什么呢？”她几乎嘲弄地叫道。
“肯定有。”他看着她，竭尽全力与自己的灵魂作着斗争。
“什么？”
他沉默了好久。她在跟他作对，此时她跟他无法交流。
“有，”他心不在焉地说，“有一个最终的我，超越个人，超越责任的我。同样也有一个最终的你。我想见的正是这个你——不是在情感与爱的地方，而是在更遥远的地方，那儿即没有语言也没有君子协约。在那儿，我们是两个赤裸、未知的人，两个全然陌生的动物，我想接近你，你也想接近我。那儿也没有什么责任和义务，因为没有行为标准，没有理解。这是很超越人性的东西。用不着注册，因为你跟这一切都无关，一切既成事实、已知的东西在那儿都没有用。你只能追随你的冲动，占有眼前的东西，对什么都不负责，也不要求什么或给予什么，只按照你的原始欲望去占有。”
厄秀拉听着他这番演讲，感到头脑发木，失去了感知。他说的话出乎她的预料，令她不知所措。
“这纯粹是自私。”她说。
“纯粹，对的。可并不是自私，因为我不知道我需要你什么。我通过接近你，把我自己交付给那未知世界，毫无保留，毫无防备，完完全全赤条条交给未知世界。只是，我们要相互宣誓，我们要抛弃一切，连自己都抛弃，停止生存，只有这样我们全然的自我才能在我们的躯壳中实现。”
她按照自己的思路思考着。
“是因为你爱我才需要我吗？”她坚持问。
“不，那是因为我相信你，也许我的确相信你呢。”
“你真这样吗？”她突然受到了伤害，冷笑道。
他凝视着她，几乎没注意她说什么。
“是的，我肯定是相信你的，否则我就不会在这儿说这番话了。”他说，“唯一能证明的就是这番话。在眼下这个时刻，我并不太相信。”
他突然变得如此无聊、无信，她不喜欢他这一点。
“可是，你是否认为我长得不错？”她调侃地追问。
他看看她，想看看自己是否觉得她好看。
“我不觉得你好看。”他说。
“那就更谈不上迷人喽？”她尖刻地说。
他突然生气地皱紧了眉头。
“你没看出来吗，这不是一个视觉审美的问题，”他叫道，“我并不想看你。我见得女人太多了，我对于看她们感到厌倦了。我需要一个不用我看的女人。”
“对不起，我并不能在你面前作隐身人啊。”她笑道。
“是的，”他说，“你对我来说就是隐身人，如果你不强迫我在视觉上注意你。当然，我并不想看见你，也不想听你说话。”
“那，你干吗要请我来喝茶呢？”她嘲弄地问。
她说她的，他并不注意她，他只是在喃喃自语。
“我在你不知道自己存在的地方寻找你，我要寻找那个尘世的你，全然否定的你。我并不需要你的漂亮长相，我不需要你那番女人的情感，我不需要你的思想，意见，也不需要你的观念，这些对我来说都不重要。”
“你太傲慢了，先生，”她嘲笑道，“你何以知道我那番女人的感情，我的思想或我的观念？你甚至不知道我对你的看法。”
“对此我并不关心。”
“我觉得你也太傻了。我以为你原是想说你爱我，可你却要绕着弯子来表达这个意思。”
“行了吧，”他突然愤愤然抬起头看着她。“走吧，让我一个人呆在这儿。我不想听你这番似是而非的挖苦话。”
“这真是挖苦吗？”她讥讽地笑道。她向他解释说，他坦白了他对她的爱，可他表达爱的话却很荒谬。
他们沉默了许久，这沉默竟令她象孩子一样得意、兴奋。
他乱了方寸，开始正视她了。
“我需要的是与你奇妙的结合，”他轻声道，“既不是相会，也不是相混——正象你说的那样——而是一种平衡，两个人纯粹的平衡——就象星与星之间保持平衡那样。”
她看着他。他非常诚恳、当然诚恳往往让他显得愚笨、平凡。他这样子令她不自由，不舒服。可是她又太爱他了。可他干吗要扯什么星星呢？
“这么讲话太突兀了吧？”她调侃道。
他笑了，说：
“要签订条约最好先看看这些条款再说。”
睡在沙法上的一只小灰猫这时跳下来，伸直它的长腿，耸起瘦削的背。然后它挺直身子很有气度地思考了一会儿，就飞也似地窜出屋去，它从敞开的窗口一直跳到屋外的花园中。
伯金站起身问：“它追什么去了？”
小猫气派十足地摇着尾巴跑下了甬路。这是一只普通的花猫，爪子是白的，可算得上是位苗条的绅士呢，这时有一只毛绒绒的棕灰色母猫悄悄爬上篱笆墙过来了。公猫米诺傲慢地向她走过去，摆出一副很有男子气的冷漠相儿。母猫蹲在公猫面前，谦卑地卧在地上，这个毛绒绒的弃儿仰视着他，野性的眼睛里放射出如同珠宝一样好看的绿色光芒。他漫不经心地俯视着她，于是。她又朝前爬了几步爬到后门去，她软软地俯着身子，象一个影子在晃动。
公猫细细的腿迈着庄重的步伐跟在母猫身后，突然他嫌她挡他的路了，就给了她脸上一巴掌，于是她向边上跑了几步，象地上被风吹跑的树叶一样溜到一边去，然后又顺从地俯下身体。公猫米诺装作对她不屑一顾的样子，自顾眨着眼睛看着园子里的景致。过了一会儿，她振作起精神，象一个棕灰色的影子一样悄然向前挪动几步，就在她加快步伐，转眼间就要象梦一样消失时，那幼小的老爷一个箭步跳到她面前，伸手照她脸上就是一个漂亮的耳光，一巴掌打得她卑谦地缩了回去。
“她是只野猫，”伯金说，“从林子里跑来的。”
那只迷途的猫四下里打量着，眼睛里似乎燃着绿色的火焰盯着伯金。然后她悄然转身，跑到园子里去了，到了那儿又朝四下里观望起来。公猫米诺转过脸来傲慢地看着他的主人，然后闭上眼睛雕塑般地伫立着。那只野猫圆睁着惊奇的绿眼睛一直凝视着，象是两团不可思议的火苗。然后她又象影子一样溜进厨房去。
这时米诺又是一跳，一阵风似地跳到她身上，用一只细细的白爪子准确地打了她两个耳光，把她打了回去。然后他跟在她身后，用一只满是魔力的白爪子戏弄地打了她两下。
“他干吗这样儿？”厄秀拉气愤地问。
“他们相处得很好。”伯金说。
“就因为这个他才打她吗？”
“对，”伯金笑道，“我觉得他是想让她明白他的意思。”
“他这样做不是太可怕了吗！”她叫着走到园子里，冲米诺喊：
“别打了，别称王称霸。别打她了。”
那只迷途猫说话间就影儿般地消失了。公猫米诺瞟了一眼厄秀拉，然后又倨傲地把目光转向他的主人。
“你是个霸王吗，米诺？”伯金问。
苗条的小猫看看他，眯起了眼睛。然后它又把目光转开去，凝视远方，不再理睬这两个人了。
“米诺，”厄秀拉说，“我不喜欢你。你象所有的男人一样霸道。”
“不，”伯金说，“他有他的道理。他不是个霸王，他只不过是要让那可怜的迷途猫儿承认他，这是她命中注定的事。你可以看出来，那迷途猫长得毛绒绒的，象风一样没个定型儿。
我支持米诺，完全支持他，他是想平静。”
“是啊，我知道！”厄秀拉叫道，“他要走他自己的路——
我知道你这番花言巧语的意思，你想称王称霸。”
小猫又看看伯金，对这位吵吵嚷嚷的女人表示蔑视。
“我很支持你，米西奥托，”伯金对猫说。“保持住你男性的尊严和你高级的理解能力吧。”
米诺又眯起了眼睛，似乎是在看太阳。看了一会儿，他突然撇下这两个人，兴高采烈地竖起尾巴跑远了，白白的爪子欢快地舞动着。
“他会再一次寻到那漂亮的野猫，用他高级的智慧招待招待她。”伯金笑道。
厄秀拉看着园子里的他，他的头发被风吹舞着，眼睛里闪着挖苦的光芒，她大叫道：
“天啊，气死我了，什么男性的优越！这是什么鬼话！没人会理会这套鬼话的。”
“那野猫，”伯金说，“就不理会，可她感觉得到这是对的。”
“是吗？”厄秀拉叫道。“骗外行去吧！”
“我会这样的。”
“这就象杰拉德·克里奇对待他的马一样，是一种称霸的欲望，一种真正的权力意志，①太卑鄙，太下作了。”
①原文是德文，出自尼采（１８４４—１９００）的著作《权力意志》。
“我同意，权力意志是卑鄙下作的。可它在米诺身上就变成了一种与母猫保持纯粹平衡的欲望，令她与一个男性保持超常永久的和睦关系。你看得出来，没有米诺，她仅仅是只迷途的猫，一个毛绒绒的偶然现象。你也可以说这是一种权力意志。”
“这是诡辩，跟亚当一样陈旧的滥调。”
“对。亚当在不可摧毁的天堂里供养着夏娃。他独自和她相处，就象星星驻足在自己的轨道里一样。”
“是啊，是啊，”厄秀拉用手指头指点着他说，“你是一颗有轨道的星星！她是一颗卫星，火星的卫星！瞧瞧，你露馅儿了！你想要得到卫星。火星和卫星！你说过，你说过，你自己把自己的想法全合盘托出来了！”
他站立着冲她笑了。他受了挫折，心里生气，可又感到有趣，不由得对厄秀拉羡慕甚至爱起来，她那么机智，象一团闪闪发光的火，报复心很强，心灵异常敏感。
“我还没说完呢，”他说，“你应该再给我机会让我说完。”
“不，就不！”她叫道。“我就不让你说。你已经说过了，一颗卫星，你要摆脱它，不就这个吗？”
“你永远也不会相信，我从来没说过这样的话，”他回答，“我既没有表示这个意思，也没有暗示过、也没有提到过什么卫星，更不会有意识地讲什么卫星，从来没有。”
“你，撒谎！”她真动了气，大叫起来。
“茶准备好了，先生。”女房东在门道里说。
他们双双朝女房东看过去，眼神就象猫刚才看他们一样。
“谢谢你，德金太太。”
女房东的介入，让他们沉默了。
“来喝茶吧。”他说。
“好吧，”她振作起精神道。
他们相对坐在茶桌旁。
“我没说过卫星，也没暗示这个意思。我的意思是指单独的星星之间既相关联又相互保持平衡、平等。
“你露馅了，你的花招全露馅了。”她说完就开始喝茶。
见她对自己的劝告不再注意，他只好倒茶了。
“真好喝！”她叫道。
“自己加糖吧。”他说。
他把杯子递给她。他的杯子等器皿都很好看。玲珑的杯子和盘子是紫红与绿色的，样式漂亮的碗和玻璃盘子以及旧式羹匙摆在浅灰与紫色的织布上，显得富丽高雅。可在这些东西中厄秀拉看出了赫麦妮的影响。
“你的东西够漂亮的！”她有点气愤地说。
“我喜欢这些玩意儿。有这些漂亮的东西用着，让人打心眼儿里舒服。德金太太人很好，因为我的缘故，她觉得什么都挺好。”
“是啊，”厄秀拉说，“这年头儿，女房东比老婆要好啊。她们当然比老婆想得更周全。在这儿，比你有了家室更自在，更完美。”
“可你怎么不想想内心的空虚呢？”他笑道。
“不，”她说，“我对男人们有如此完美的女房东和如此漂亮的住所感到嫉妒。男人们有了这些就没什么憾事了。”
“如果是为了养家糊口，我希望不至于如此吧。就为了有个家而结婚，这挺恶心的。”
“同样，”厄秀拉说，“现在男人不怎么需要女人，是吗？”
“除了同床共枕和生儿育女以外，就不怎么需要。从根本上说，现在男人对女人的需要是一样的，只不过谁也不愿意做根本的事情。”
“怎么个根本法？”
“我的确觉得，”他说，“世界是由人与人之间神秘的纽带——完美的和谐地连结在一起的。最直接的纽带就是男人与女人之间的纽带。”
“这是老调子了，”厄秀拉说，“为什么爱要是一条纽带呢？
不，我不要它。”
“如果你向西走，”他说，“你就会失去北、东和南三个方向。如果你承认和谐，就消除了一切混乱的可能性。”
“可爱的是自由啊。”她说。
“别说伪善的话，”他说，“爱是排除所有其它方向的一个方向。你可以说它是一种自由。”
“不，”她说，“爱包含了一切。”
“多愁善感的假话。”他说，“你需要混乱状态，就这么回事。所谓自由的爱，所谓爱是自由、自由是爱之说纯属虚无主义。其实，如果你进入了和谐状态，这种和谐直到无法改变时才能变得纯粹。一旦它无可改变，它就变成了一条路，如同星星的轨道一样。”
“哈！”她刻薄地叫道，“这是死朽的道德精神。”
“不，”他说，“这是造物的规律，每个人都有义务，一个人必须与另一个人终生结合，但这并不意味着失去自我——它意味着在神秘的平衡与完整中保存自我——如同星与星相互平衡一样。”
“你一扯什么星星我就不能相信你，”她说，“如果你说得对，你没必要扯那么远。”
“那就别相信我好了，”他气恼地说，“我相信我自己，这就够了。”
“你又错了，”她说，“你并不相信你自己。你并不完全相信你自己说的话。你并不真地需要这种结合，否则你就不会大谈特谈这种结合，而是应该去得到它。”
他一时间无言以对，愣住了。
“怎么得到？”他问。
“仅仅通过爱。”她挑衅般地回答。
他在愤怒中沉默了一会儿说：
“告诉你吧，我不相信那样的爱。你想让爱帮助你达到利己的目的，你认为爱是起辅助作用的，不仅对你，对谁都如此。我讨厌这个。”
“不，”她叫，着象一条眼镜蛇那样仰起头，目光闪烁着。
“爱是一种骄傲，我要的是骄傲。”
“骄傲与谦卑，骄傲与谦卑，我了解你，”他冷冰冰地反驳道。“前倨后恭，再由谦卑到倨傲——我了解你和你的爱。
骄傲与谦卑在一起跳舞。”
“你真确信你知道我的爱是什么吗？”她有点生气地讽刺道。
“是的，我相信我知道。”他说。
“你过分自信了！”她说，“你这么自信，怎么就一贯正确呢？这说明你是错的。”
他不语，深感懊恼。
他们交谈着，斗争着，到最后他们都对此厌倦了。
“跟我讲讲你自己的情况和你家人的情况吧。”他说。
于是她对他讲起布朗温家的人，她母亲，她的第一个恋人斯克里宾斯基以及她与斯克里宾斯基关系破裂后的经历，他默默坐着听她娓娓道来，似乎怀着敬意在听。她讲到伤心处，脸上显出难言的苦相，那表情使她的面庞更楚楚动人。他似乎被她美丽的天性所温暖，他的心感到欣慰。
“莫非她真可以信誓旦旦一番？”他怀着一腔激情这样思忖着，但不抱任何希望，因而心里竟漫不经意地自顾笑起来。
“看来咱们都很苦啊。”他嘲讽般地说。
她抬眼看看他，脸上禁不住闪过按捺不住的狂喜，眼中亮起一道奇异的光芒。
“谁说不是啊！”她不管不顾地高声叫着。“这有点荒谬，不是吗？”
“太荒谬了，”他说，“痛苦让我厌透了。”
“我也一样。”
看着她脸上那满不在乎的嘲讽神情，他几乎感到害怕了。这个女人上天可以上致穹顶，入地狱可以入到最底层，他原是错怪她了，这样一位放任恣肆的女子，有着无可阻挡的破坏力，太危险了，真让他害怕。可他心里又禁不住笑了。
她走过来把手放在他肩上，一双闪烁着奇异金光的眼睛盯着他，那目光很温柔，但掩饰不住温情后面的魔光。
“说一句你爱我，说‘我的爱’对我说一句吧。”她请求道。
他也盯着她，看着她。他的脸上露出嘲讽的表情。
“我是很爱你，”他阴郁地说，“可我希望这是另一种爱。”
“为什么？为什么？”她低下头，神采奕奕的脸对着他追问。“难道这还不够吗？”
“我们独往独来更好。”他说着搂住她的腰。
“不，我们不要独往独来。”她用充满情欲的声音屈从道，“我们只能相爱。对我说‘我的爱’，说呀，说呀。”
她说着搂住他的脖子。他拥抱着她，温柔地吻着她，似爱、似调侃、似顺从地喃言道：
“好——我的爱——我的爱。有爱就足够了。我爱你——
我爱你。我对别的东西腻透了。”
“是嘛，”她喃言着，柔顺地偎在他怀中。
收听单词发音 |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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absolved
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| 宣告…无罪，赦免…的罪行，宽恕…的罪行( absolve的过去式和过去分词 )； 不受责难，免除责任 [义务] ,开脱（罪责） | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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flux
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| n.流动；不断的改变 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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12
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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13
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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14
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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15
numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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delude
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| vt.欺骗；哄骗 | |
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17
isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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18
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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19
mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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20
incandescent
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| adj.遇热发光的， 白炽的，感情强烈的 | |
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21
trepidation
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| n.惊恐，惶恐 | |
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22
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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23
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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24
jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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25
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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26
stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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27
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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28
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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29
whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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30
primal
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| adj.原始的；最重要的 | |
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31
untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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32
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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33
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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34
steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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35
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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36
heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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37
exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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38
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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39
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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40
conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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41
meretricious
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| adj.华而不实的，俗艳的 | |
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42
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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43
persiflage
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| n.戏弄；挖苦 | |
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44
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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45
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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46
equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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47
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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48
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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49
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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50
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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51
fluffy
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| adj.有绒毛的，空洞的 | |
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52
nonchalance
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| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
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53
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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55
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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56
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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57
cuff
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| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
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58
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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59
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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60
cuffed
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| v.掌打，拳打( cuff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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62
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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63
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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64
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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65
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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66
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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67
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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68
promiscuous
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| adj.杂乱的，随便的 | |
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69
bossiness
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| 跋扈作威作福 | |
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70
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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71
blithe
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| adj.快乐的，无忧无虑的 | |
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72
belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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73
justification
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| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
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74
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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75
bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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76
abiding
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| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
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77
rapport
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| n.和睦，意见一致 | |
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78
sporadic
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| adj.偶尔发生的 [反]regular；分散的 | |
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79
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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80
sophistries
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| n.诡辩术( sophistry的名词复数 )；（一次）诡辩 | |
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81
frustration
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| n.挫折，失败，失效，落空 | |
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82
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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83
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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84
vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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85
wriggle
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| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
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86
prevaricator
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| n.推诿的人，撒谎的人 | |
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87
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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88
breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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89
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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90
landladies
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| n.女房东，女店主，女地主( landlady的名词复数 ) | |
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91
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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92
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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93
unison
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| n.步调一致，行动一致 | |
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94
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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95
forfeit
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| vt.丧失；n.罚金，罚款，没收物 | |
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96
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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97
cant
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| n.斜穿，黑话，猛扔 | |
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98
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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99
subservience
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| n.有利，有益；从属（地位），附属性；屈从，恭顺；媚态 | |
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100
subservient
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| adj.卑屈的，阿谀的 | |
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101
chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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102
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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103
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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104
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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105
insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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106
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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108
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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109
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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110
sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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111
luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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112
voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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113
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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114
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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