《the magic skin(驴皮记)》

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the magic skin(驴皮记)- 第13部分


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between himself and heaven。 In the face of such achievements; atheism
seems like a barren skeleton。 What do you say?〃

〃I am thinking of the seas of blood shed by Catholicism。〃 Emile
replied; quite unimpressed。 〃It has drained our hearts and veins dry
to make a mimic deluge。 No matter! Every man who thinks must range
himself beneath the banner of Christ; for He alone has consummated the
triumph of spirit over matter; He alone has revealed to us; like a
poet; an intermediate world that separates us from the Deity。〃

〃Believest thou?〃 asked Raphael with an unaccountable drunken smile。
〃Very good; we must not commit ourselves; so we will drink the
celebrated toast; Diis ignotis!〃

And they drained the chalice filled up with science; carbonic acid
gas; perfumes; poetry; and incredulity。

〃If the gentlemen will go to the drawing…room; coffee is ready for
them;〃 said the major…domo。

There was scarcely one of those present whose mind was not floundering
by this time in the delights of chaos; where every spark of
intelligence is quenched; and the body; set free from its tyranny;
gives itself up to the frenetic joys of liberty。 Some who had arrived
at the apogee of intoxication were dejected; as they painfully tried
to arrest a single thought which might assure them of their own
existence; others; deep in the heavy morasses of indigestion; denied
the possibility of movement。 The noisy and the silent were oddly
assorted。

For all that; when new joys were announced to them by the stentorian
tones of the servant; who spoke on his master's behalf; they all rose;
leaning upon; dragging or carrying one another。 But on the threshold
of the room the entire crew paused for a moment; motionless; as if
fascinated。 The intemperate pleasures of the banquet seemed to fade
away at this titillating spectacle; prepared by their amphitryon to
appeal to the most sensual of their instincts。

Beneath the shining wax…lights in a golden chandelier; round about a
table inlaid with gilded metal; a group of women; whose eyes shone
like diamonds; suddenly met the stupefied stare of the revelers。 Their
toilettes were splendid; but less magnificent than their beauty; which
eclipsed the other marvels of this palace。 A light shone from their
eyes; bewitching as those of sirens; more brilliant and ardent than
the blaze that streamed down upon the snowy marble; the delicately
carved surfaces of bronze; and lit up the satin sheen of the tapestry。
The contrasts of their attitudes and the slight movements of their
heads; each differing in character and nature of attraction; set the
heart afire。 It was like a thicket; where blossoms mingled with
rubies; sapphires; and coral; a combination of gossamer scarves that
flickered like beacon…lights; of black ribbons about snowy throats; of
gorgeous turbans and demurely enticing apparel。 It was a seraglio that
appealed to every eye; and fulfilled every fancy。 Each form posed to
admiration was scarcely concealed by the folds of cashmere; and half
hidden; half revealed by transparent gauze and diaphanous silk。 The
little slender feet were eloquent; though the fresh red lips uttered
no sound。

Demure and fragile…looking girls; pictures of maidenly innocence; with
a semblance of conventional unction about their heads; were there like
apparitions that a breath might dissipate。 Aristocratic beauties with
haughty glances; languid; flexible; slender; and complaisant; bent
their heads as though there were royal protectors still in the market。
An English…woman seemed like a spirit of melancholysome coy; pale;
shadowy form among Ossian's mists; or a type of remorse flying from
crime。 The Parisienne was not wanting in all her beauty that consists
in an indescribable charm; armed with her irresistible weakness; vain
of her costume and her wit; pliant and hard; a heartless; passionless
siren that yet can create factitious treasures of passion and
counterfeit emotion。

Italians shone in the throng; serene and self…possessed in their
bliss; handsome Normans; with splendid figures; women of the south;
with black hair and well…shaped eyes。 Lebel might have summoned
together all the fair women of Versailles; who since morning had
perfected all their wiles; and now came like a troupe of Oriental
women; bidden by the slave merchant to be ready to set out at dawn。
They stood disconcerted and confused about the table; huddled together
in a murmuring group like bees in a hive。 The combination of timid
embarrassment with coquettishness and a sort of expostulation was the
result either of calculated effect or a spontaneous modesty。 Perhaps a
sentiment of which women are never utterly divested prescribed to them
the cloak of modesty to heighten and enhance the charms of wantonness。
So the venerable Taillefer's designs seemed on the point of collapse;
for these unbridled natures were subdued from the very first by the
majesty with which woman is invested。 There was a murmur of
admiration; which vibrated like a soft musical note。 Wine had not
taken love for traveling companion; instead of a violent tumult of
passions; the guests thus taken by surprise; in a moment of weakness;
gave themselves up to luxurious raptures of delight。

Artists obeyed the voice of poetry which constrains them; and studied
with pleasure the different delicate tints of these chosen examples of
beauty。 Sobered by a thought perhaps due to some emanation from a
bubble of carbonic acid in the champagne; a philosopher shuddered at
the misfortunes which had brought these women; once perhaps worthy of
the truest devotion; to this。 Each one doubtless could have unfolded a
cruel tragedy。 Infernal tortures followed in the train of most of
them; and they drew after them faithless men; broken vows; and
pleasures atoned for in wretchedness。 Polite advances were made by the
guests; and conversations began; as varied in character as the
speakers。 They broke up into groups。 It might have been a fashionable
drawing…room where ladies and young girls offer after dinner the
assistance that coffee; liqueurs; and sugar afford to diners who are
struggling in the toils of a perverse digestion。 But in a little while
laughter broke out; the murmur grew; and voices were raised。 The
saturnalia; subdued for a moment; threatened at times to renew itself。
The alternations of sound and silence bore a distant resemblance to a
symphony of Beethoven's。

The two friends; seated on a silken divan; were first approached by a
tall; well…proportioned girl of stately bearing; her features were
irregular; but her face was striking and vehement in expression; and
impressed the mind by the vigor of its contrasts。 Her dark hair fell
in luxuriant curls; with which some hand seemed to have played havoc
already; for the locks fell lightly over the splendid shoulders that
thus attracted attention。 The long brown curls half hid her queenly
throat; though where the light fell upon it; the delicacy of its fine
outlines was revealed。 Her warm and vivid coloring was set off by the
dead white of her complexion。 Bold and ardent glances came from under
the long eyelashes; the damp; red; half…open lips challenged a kiss。
Her frame was strong but compliant; with a bust and arms strongly
developed; as in figures drawn by the Caracci; she yet seemed active
and elastic; with a panther's strength and suppleness; and in the same
way the energetic grace of her figure suggested fierce pleasures。

But though she might romp perhaps and laugh; there was something
terrible in her eyes and her smile。 Like a pythoness possessed by the
demon; she inspired awe rather than pleasure。 All changes; one after
another; flashed like lightning over every mobile feature of her face。
She might captivate a jaded fancy; but a young man would have feared
her。 She was like some colossal statue fallen from the height of a
Greek temple; so grand when seen afar; too roughly hewn to be seen
anear。 And yet; in spite of all; her terrible beauty could have
stimulated exhaustion; her voice might charm the deaf; her glances
might put life into the bones of the dead; and therefore Emile was
vaguely reminded of one of Shakespeare's tragediesa wonderful maze;
in which joy groans; and there is something wild even about love; and
the magic of forgiveness and the warmth of happiness succeed to cruel
storms of rage。 She was a siren that can both kiss and devour; laugh
like a devil; or weep as angels can。 She could concentrate in one
instant all a woman's powers of attraction in a single effort (the
sighs of melancholy and the charms of maiden's shyness alone
excepted); then in a moment rise in fury like a nation in revolt; and
tear herself; her passion; and her lover; in pieces。

Dressed in red velvet; she trampled under her reckless feet the stray
flowers fallen from other heads; and held out a salver to the two
friends; with careless hands。 The white arms stood out in bold relief
against the velvet。 Proud of her beauty; proud (who knows?) of her
corruption; she stood like a queen of pleasure; like an incarnation of
enjoyment; the enjoyment that comes of squandering the accumulations
of three generations; that scoffs at its progenitors; and makes
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