By pleasuring the body Maurice had confirmed— that very word was used in the final verdict—he had confirmed his spirit in its perversion1, and cut himself off from the congregation of normal man. In his irritation2 he stammered3; "What I want to know is—what I can't tell you nor you me— how did a country lad like that know so much about me? Why did he thunder up that special night when I was weakest? I'd never let him touch me with my friend in the house, because, damn it all, I'm more or less a gentleman—public school, var-sity, and so on—I can't even now believe that it was with him." Regretting he had not possessed4 Clive in the hour of their pas-sion, he left, left his last shelter, while the doctor said perfunc-torily. "Fresh air and exercise may do wonders yet." The doctor wanted to get on to his next patient, and he did not care for Maurice's type. He was not shocked like Dr Barry, but he was bored, and never thought of the young invert5 again.
On the doorstep something rejoined Maurice—his old self perhaps, for as he walked along a voice spoke6 out of his mortifi-cation, and its accents recalled Cambridge; a reckless youthful voice that girded at him for being a fool. "You've done for your-self this time," it seemed to say, and when he stopped outside the park, because the King and Queen were passing, he de-spised them at the moment he bared his head. It was as if the barrier that kept him from his fellows had taken another aspect. He was not afraid or ashamed anymore. After all, the forests and the night were on his side, not theirs; they, not he, were in-
side a ring fence. He had acted wrongly, and was still being punished—but wrongly because he had tried to get the best of both worlds. "But I must belong to my class, that's fixed," he persisted.
"Very well," said his old self. "Now go home, and tomorrow morning mind you catch the 8.36 up to the office, for your holi-day is over, remember, and mind you never turn your head, as I may, towards Sherwood."
"I'm not a poet, I'm not that kind of an ass—"
The King and Queen vanished into their palace, the sun fell behind the park trees, which melted into one huge creature that had fingers and fists of green.
"The life of the earth, Maurice? Don't you belong to that?"
"Well, what do you call the 'life of the earth'—it ought to be the same as my daily life—the same as society. One ought to be built on the other, as Clive once said."
"Quite so. Most unfortunate, that facts pay no attention to Clive."
"Anyhow, I must stick to my class."
"Night is coming—be quick then—take a taxi—be quick like your father, before doors close."
Hailing one, he caught the 6.20. Another letter from Scudder awaited him on the leather tray in the hall. He knew the writing at once, the "Mr M. Hall" instead of "Esq.", the stamps plastered crooked8. He was frightened and annoyed, yet not so much as he would have been in the morning, for though science despaired of him he despaired less of himself. After all, is not a real Hell bet-ter than a manufactured Heaven? He was not sorry that he had eluded9 the manipulations of Mr Lasker Jones. He put the letter into the pocket of his dinner-jacket, where it tugged10 unread, while he played cards, and heard how the chauffeur11 had given notice; one didn't know what servants were coming to: to his suggestion that servants might be flesh and blood like ourselves
his aunt opposed a loud "They aren't". At bedtime he kissed his mother and Kitty without the fear of defiling12 them; their short-lived sanctity was over, and all that they did and said had re-sumed insignificance13. It was with no feeling of treason that he locked his door, and gazed for five minutes into the suburban14 night. He heard owls15, the ring of a distant tram and his heart sounding louder than either. The letter was beastly long. The blood began pounding over his body as he unfolded it, but his head kept cool, and he managed to read it as a whole, not merely sentence by sentence.
Mr Hall, Mr Borenius has just spoke to me. Sir, you do not treat me fairly. I am sailing next week, per s.s. Normannia. I wrote you I am going, it is not fair you never write to me. I come of a respectable family, I don't think it fair to treat me like a dog. My father is a respectable tradesman. I am going to be on my own in the Argentine. You say, "Alec, you are a dear fellow"; but you do not write.I know about you and Mr Durham. Why do you say "call me Maurice", and then treat me so unfairly? Mr Hall, I am coming to London Tuesday. If you do not want me at your home say where in London, you had better see me—I would make you sorry for it. Sir, nothing of note has occurred since you left Penge. Cricket seems over, some of the great trees as lost some of their leaves, which is very early. Has Mr Borenius spoken to you about certain girls? I can't help being rather rough, it is some men's nature, but you should not treat me like a dog. It was before you came. It is natural to want a girl, you cannot go against human nature. Mr Borenius found out about the girls through the new communion class. He has just spoken to me. I have never come like that to a gentleman before. Were you annoyed at being disturbed so early? Sir, it was your fault, your head was on me. I had my work, I was Mr Durham's servant, not yours. I am not your servant, I will not be treated as your servant, and I don't care if the world knows it. I will show respectwhere it's due only, that is to say to gentleman who are gentleman. Simcox says, "Mr Hall says to put him in about eighth." I put you in fifth, but I was captain, and you have no right to treat me unfairly on that account.
Yours respectfully, A. Scudder.
P.S. I know something.
This last was the outstanding point, yet Maurice could brood over the letter as a whole. There was evidently some unsavoury gossip in the under-world about himself and Clive, but what did it matter now? What did it matter if they had been spied on in the Blue Room, or among the ferns, and been misinterpreted? He was concerned with the present. Why should Scudder have mentioned such gossip? What was he up to? Why had he flung out these words, some foul16, many stupid, some gracious? While actually reading the letter, Maurice might feel it carrion17 he must toss on to his solicitor18, but when he laid it down and took up his pipe, it seemed the sort of letter he might have written himself. Muddle-headed? How about muddle-headed? If so, it was in his own line! He didn't want such a letter, he didn't know what it wanted—half a dozen things possibly—but he couldn't well be cold and hard over it as Clive had been to him over the originalSymposium business, and argue, "Here's a certain statement, I shall keep you to it." He replied, "A.S. Yes. Meet me Tuesday 5.0 p.m. entrance of British Museum. B.M. a large building. Anyone will tell you which. M.C.H." That struck him as best. Both were outcasts, and if it came to a scrap19 must have it with-out benefit of society. As for the rendezvous20, he chose it because they were unlikely to be disturbed there by anyone whom he knew. Poor B.M., solemn and chaste21! The young man smiled, and his face became mischievous22 and happy. He smiled also at the thought that Clive hadn't quite kept out of the mud after all, and though the face now hardened into lines less pleasing, it proved him an athlete, who had emerged from a year of suf-fering uninjured.
His new vigour23 persisted next morning, when he returned to work. Before his failure with Lasker Jones he had looked for-ward to work as a privilege of which he was almost unworthy. It was to have rehabilitated24 him, so that he could hold up his head at home. But now it too crumbled25, and again he wanted
to laugh, and wondered why he had been taken in so long. The clientele of Messrs Hill and Hall was drawn26 from the middle-middle classes, whose highest desire seemed shelter—continu-ous shelter—not a lair27 in the darkness to be reached against fear, but shelter everywhere and always, until the existence of earth and sky is forgotten, shelter from poverty and disease and violence and impoliteness; and consequently from joy; God slipped this retribution in. He saw from their faces, as from the faces of his clerks and his partners, that they had never known real joy. Society had catered28 for them too completely. They had never struggled, and only a struggle twists sentimentality and lust29 together into love. Maurice would have been a good lover. He could have given and taken serious pleasure. But in these men the strands30 were untwisted; they were either fatuous31 or ob-scene, and in his present mood he despised the latter least. They would come to him and ask for a safe six per cent security. He would reply, "You can't combine high interest with safety—it isn't to be done"; and in the end they would say, "How would it be if I invested most of my money at four per cent, and play about with an odd hundred?" Even so did they speculate in a little vice—not in too much, lest it disorganized domesticity, but in enough to show that their virtue32 was sham7. And until yester-day he had cringed to them.
Why should he serve such men? He began discussing the ethics33 of his profession, like a clever undergraduate, but the railway carriage did not take him seriously. "Young Hall's all right," remained the verdict. "Hell never lose a single client, not he." And they diagnosed a cynicism not unseemly in a busi-ness man. "All the time he's investing steadily34, you bet. Remem-ber that slum talk of his in the spring?"
由于在肉体上得到了快乐，莫瑞斯施行了坚振礼——最后的判决正是用此词来下的——他对精神施行坚振礼，让精神走入邪路，从而与正常人的集团断绝了关系。他气恼地结结巴巴地说：“我想知道的是一我不能告诉你，你也不能告诉我——像他那么个乡下小子怎么会对我了如指掌？为什么他在我最虚弱的那个特定的晚上进行突然袭击？倘若我的朋友在家，我决不让他碰我一个指头。因为，他妈的，我总还算是个绅士——公学、大学等等一甚至现在我都难以相信是跟他。”他懊悔自己在充满激情的时刻所委身的对象并不是克莱夫，于是告辞离开了他最后这座遇难所。大夫呢，敷衍塞责地说：“新鲜空气和运动依然能取得惊人的效果。”大夫只想去为下一个患者看病，他不喜欢莫瑞斯这种类型的。他并没有像巴里大夫那样为之震骇，然而他感到厌烦，从此再也不曾想起过这个反常的青年。
在门口，某种东西回到他身上来了——也许是昔日的他。因为当他一路走去的时候，从屈辱中发出了一个声音，那腔调使他回忆起剑桥。那个鲁莽、年轻的嗓音嘲笑他是个傻瓜。“这一次你可完蛋啦。”它好像这么说。由于国王和王后正从这里经过，莫瑞斯只得在公园外面停下脚步。脱帽的那一瞬间，他对他们产生了轻蔑之感。把他和同伴们隔开来的那道栅栏好像呈现出另一个局面。他再也不害怕，也不感到羞愧了。森林和夜晚毕竟是站在他这一边的，却并不支持他们。被圈在围墙里的是他们，而不是他。他行为不端，至今仍受着处罚——他的错误在于试图把两个世界的最好的东西都弄到手。“但是我必须属于自己的阶级，这是确定了的。”他固执地说。
“很好嘛，”昔日的他说，“现在就回家去吧。别忘了明天早晨乘八点三十六分的火车到办公室去，因为你的假期已经结束了。记住，神决不要调过头看舍伍德（译注：指舍伍德森林，是英国英格兰诺丁汉郡林地和原皇家猎场，因侠盗罗宾汉曾出没于此而有名。以前森林几乎覆盖整个诺丁汉郡西部并延伸到德比郡，现面积已减小。），我呢，也许会这么做。”
“我不是诗人，我不是那样的傻瓜——”
国王和王后进入宫殿，无影无踪了。太阳落到公园的树丛后面。树木融合为有着无数手指与拳头的庞然大物。
“大地的生活如何，莫瑞斯？你是不是属于它？”
“啊，你所说的‘大地的生活’——应该跟我的日常生活毫无二致——跟社会毫无二致。正如有一次克莱夫说过的，日常生活应该建立在社会上。”
“正是这样。最大的遗憾是，这些事实却忽视了克莱夫。”
“不管怎样，我必须忠于自己的阶级。”
“夜幕快降临了——那么就抓紧时间——坐出租车——在没关门之前，像你父亲那样急如星火。”
莫瑞斯叫了一辆出租车，赶上了六点二十分的火车。斯卡德的另一封信在门厅里的皮托盘里等着他。他立即认出了笔迹，写的是“莫‘霍尔先生”，而不是“大人”，邮票贴得歪歪扭扭。他感到害怕、烦恼，倘若今天早晨遇上这样的事，就越发难以承受。尽管科学认为他是无可救药的了，他对自己却还抱着一线希望。一座真正的地狱毕竟比虚构的天堂强。不是吗？他并不因摆脱了拉斯克·琼斯先生的控制而感到遗憾。他把信塞到无尾晚礼服的内兜里，当他玩纸牌的时候，那封未读过的信被拖来拖去。他听说司机要辞工。女人们抱怨着，这年头，仆人都怎么啦？他表态说，仆人也跟咱们一样，是有血有肉的人啊。他的姨妈大声抗议：“他们才不是呢。”到了就寝时间，他吻了母亲和吉蒂，却丝毫也没有玷污她们的感觉。他一度认为她们是圣洁的，转眼间这种看法就过去了。她们的一切言行重新变得毫无意义。当他锁上门的时候，完全没有背信弃义的感觉。他朝着伦敦郊外的夜晚出神地凝视了五分钟。他听见了猫头鹰的啼叫，远处电车铃铛丁零零地响着，他的心脏跳得比这两种声音还响。那封信长得要命，他推开信笺的时候．浑身的血沸腾起来了。但他依然保持头脑的冷静，不仅是一句句地读，还做到了一览无余。
霍尔先生，博雷尼乌斯先生刚刚跟我谈过话。先生．你待我不公正。下星期我就乘诺曼尼亚号轮船起航了。我写信告诉你我要走了，你呢，从来也不写信给我，这是不公正的。我出身在一个体面的家庭里，我不认为把我当作一条狗那样来对待是公正的。我爹是个体面的商人。我要到阿根廷去自立。你说：“阿列克，你是个好样儿的。”但是你不写信。我知道你和德拉姆先生的事。为什么你说：“管我叫莫瑞斯。”却这么不公正地对待我呢？霍尔先生，星期二我到伦敦来。要是你不愿意让我到你家去，就告诉我在伦敦的什么地方。你最好跟我见面——不然的话，我要叫你吃不了兜着走。先生，自从你离开彭杰，什么值得注意的事也没发生。板球赛似乎完了。有些大树开始掉叶子了，掉得非常早。博雷尼乌斯先生跟你讲过某些姑娘的事吗？我忍不住撒过野，这是某些男人的天性，可你不该把我当作一条狗那样来对待。在你来以前，想要个姑娘是很自然的事，你不能违反人的天性。博雷尼乌斯先生是通过新开的圣餐仪式学习班，才发现姑娘们的事的，他刚刚跟我谈过话。我从来也没像那样进过绅士的房间。你是不是因为大清早就被吵醒而对我烦透了呢？先生，那是你的过错，你把脑袋压在我身上了。我有活儿要干，我是德拉姆先生的仆人，不是你的。我不是你的仆人，我不愿意被当作你的仆人来对待。我不在乎把这个想法公诸于世。我只尊重那些该尊重的人。也就是说，那些地地道道的绅士。西姆科克斯说：“霍尔先生说过，安排他当大约第八名击球手。”我安排你当了第五名。可我是队长呀，你没有权利由于这个缘故就不公正地对待我。又及：我还知道一些事。尊重你的阿·斯卡德
最后的附言引人注目，然而莫瑞斯能够从整体上来焦急地考虑此信。关于他本人和克莱夫，仆人当中显然流传着声名狼藉的闲话。然而，事至如今又能怎样呢？就算他们在蓝屋或羊齿丛之间的行为被人窥视，引起了误解，又有什么关系呢？他担心的是目前的事。斯卡德为什么偏偏提及这些流言蜚语？他安的是什么心？他为什么洋洋洒洒抛出这一大篇，有些词句是令人不快的，很多是傻话，还有几句比较亲切。读着这封信的时候，莫瑞斯觉得它像是一块腐肉，他必须把它赶紧交给律师。然而，及至他将信撂下，点燃烟斗，却认为这像是他本人也会写的信。昏头昏脑吗？昏头昏脑又怎么了？倘若是这样的话，也是符合他自己的行为准则的呀！他不稀罕这样一封信，他不清楚对方写此信的意图——也许有半打意图——然而他不愿意冷淡苛酷地对待它，犹如克莱夫在《会饮篇》原著这件事上对待他那样。克莱夫振振有词：“上面是这么写的，请你记在心里。”他写了回信：“阿·斯。行。星期二下午五点钟在大英博物馆门口跟我会面。博物馆是个巨大的建筑物，谁都会告诉你是哪一座。莫．C．霍。”他觉得这么写最好。他们两个人都是被排斥在社会之外的人。要是争吵起来，最好也别惹世人注意。至于选这个地点来会见，因为不大可能在此撞见与他相识的人。可怜的大英博物馆，既庄严又纯洁！年轻人微笑了，脸上浮现出顽皮、幸福的神色。这微笑还有个原因：想到了克莱夫归根到底并未能完全不受毁谤。尽管这张脸现在绷起来了，露出没那么愉快的皱纹，却足以证明他是个强壮的运动员，丝毫没有受到损伤，终于摆脱了一年的苦难。
第二天早晨他回去工作了，新产生的活力一直持续着。在拉斯克·琼斯那儿一败涂地之前，他曾对这份工作满怀希望，认为这是自己几乎不配享受的殊荣，它将使他恢复正常生活，从而在家里也能抬起头来。然而如今连这个希望都破灭了。他又想大笑一场了，心里琢磨着自己为什么会被欺骗得这么久。希尔与霍尔证券公司的主顾们来自中产阶级的中问阶层，其最高的愿望好像就是确保一座避难所，而且还是一座持久的避难所。不是害怕的时候前往躲藏的黑暗中的隐匿处，而是遍地都是、时时刻刻都有的避难所，直到大地与天空的存在被抛到脑后。这座避难所保护人不受贫穷、疾病、暴力与无礼的侵犯，最后，就连快乐也被剥夺了，是神悄悄地让他们遭受这个惩罚的。莫瑞斯从他们脸上，正如从办事员以及合伙人脸上看出，他们从来也不知道什么是真正的快乐，社会为他们提供得太齐全了，他们从未苦斗过。惟有苦斗才能把多情的心与肉欲融合起来，化为爱。莫瑞斯可以做一个出色的情人，他能够给予并接受真诚的爱。然而在这些人身上，那两样并没有融合，他们要么昏庸无能，要么荒淫无耻。眼下，在他的心目中，后者还没有前者可鄙。客户到他这儿来，要买既安全又有六分利息的证券。于是他回答：“高利息和安全不可兼得——你得舍弃一样儿。”最后他们就说：“要是我把大部分钱都投在四分利息的证券上，用剩下的一百英镑来玩儿，你看怎么样？”即使他们玩了股票，为了避免扰乱家庭生活，充其量也就是那么一点儿，但也足够显示他们的美德是虚伪的。直到昨天，他在他们面前总是卑躬屈膝。
他为什么为这帮人服务呢？他像一个锋芒毕露的本科学生那样议论起自己的职业道德来了。然而火车里的其他乘客没把他的话当真。“小霍尔是好样儿的。”这个评价依然没有变。“他决不会失掉一个客户，他才不会呢。”他们下结论说，对一位实业家而言，冷嘲热讽并非不相称。“口头上虽这么说，他一个劲儿地投资。还记得吗？春天的时候他还谈论贫民窟呢。”
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perversion
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irritation
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stammered
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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invert
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| vt.使反转，使颠倒，使转化 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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sham
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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eluded
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tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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chauffeur
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defiling
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| v.玷污( defile的现在分词 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
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insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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owls
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| n.猫头鹰( owl的名词复数 ) | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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carrion
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| n.腐肉 | |
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solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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rehabilitated
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| 改造（罪犯等）( rehabilitate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使恢复正常生活； 使恢复原状； 修复 | |
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crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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catered
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| 提供饮食及服务( cater的过去式和过去分词 )； 满足需要，适合 | |
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lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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strands
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| n.（线、绳、金属线、毛发等的）股( strand的名词复数 )；缕；海洋、湖或河的)岸；（观点、计划、故事等的）部份v.使滞留，使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
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fatuous
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| adj.愚昧的；昏庸的 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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