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the lifted veil-第3章

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of the morning mist。  And while I was conscious of this incipient
vision; I was also conscious that Pierre came to tell my father Mr。
Filmore was waiting for him; and that my father hurried out of the
room。  No; it was not a dream; was itthe thought was full of
tremulous exultationwas it the poet's nature in me; hitherto only
a troubled yearning sensibility; now manifesting itself suddenly as
spontaneous creation?  Surely it was in this way that Homer saw the
plain of Troy; that Dante saw the abodes of the departed; that
Milton saw the earthward flight of the Tempter。  Was it that my
illness had wrought some happy change in my organizationgiven a
firmer tension to my nervescarried off some dull obstruction?  I
had often read of such effectsin works of fiction at least。  Nay;
in genuine biographies I had read of the subtilizing or exalting
influence of some diseases on the mental powers。  Did not Novalis
feel his inspiration intensified under the progress of consumption?

When my mind had dwelt for some time on this blissful idea; it
seemed to me that I might perhaps test it by an exertion of my
will。  The vision had begun when my father was speaking of our
going to Prague。  I did not for a moment believe it was really a
representation of that city; I believedI hoped it was a picture
that my newly liberated genius had painted in fiery haste; with the
colours snatched from lazy memory。  Suppose I were to fix my mind
on some other placeVenice; for example; which was far more
familiar to my imagination than Prague:  perhaps the same sort of
result would follow。  I concentrated my thoughts on Venice; I
stimulated my imagination with poetic memories; and strove to feel
myself present in Venice; as I had felt myself present in Prague。
But in vain。  I was only colouring the Canaletto engravings that
hung in my old bedroom at home; the picture was a shifting one; my
mind wandering uncertainly in search of more vivid images; I could
see no accident of form or shadow without conscious labour after
the necessary conditions。  It was all prosaic effort; not rapt
passivity; such as I had experienced half an hour before。  I was
discouraged; but I remembered that inspiration was fitful。

For several days I was in a state of excited expectation; watching
for a recurrence of my new gift。  I sent my thoughts ranging over
my world of knowledge; in the hope that they would find some object
which would send a reawakening vibration through my slumbering
genius。  But no; my world remained as dim as ever; and that flash
of strange light refused to come again; though I watched for it
with palpitating eagerness。

My father accompanied me every day in a drive; and a gradually
lengthening walk as my powers of walking increased; and one evening
he had agreed to come and fetch me at twelve the next day; that we
might go together to select a musical box; and other purchases
rigorously demanded of a rich Englishman visiting Geneva。  He was
one of the most punctual of men and bankers; and I was always
nervously anxious to be quite ready for him at the appointed time。
But; to my surprise; at a quarter past twelve he had not appeared。
I felt all the impatience of a convalescent who has nothing
particular to do; and who has just taken a tonic in the prospect of
immediate exercise that would carry off the stimulus。

Unable to sit still and reserve my strength; I walked up and down
the room; looking out on the current of the Rhone; just where it
leaves the dark…blue lake; but thinking all the while of the
possible causes that could detain my father。

Suddenly I was conscious that my father was in the room; but not
alone:  there were two persons with him。  Strange!  I had heard no
footstep; I had not seen the door open; but I saw my father; and at
his right hand our neighbour Mrs。 Filmore; whom I remembered very
well; though I had not seen her for five years。  She was a
commonplace middle…aged woman; in silk and cashmere; but the lady
on the left of my father was not more than twenty; a tall; slim;
willowy figure; with luxuriant blond hair; arranged in cunning
braids and folds that looked almost too massive for the slight
figure and the small…featured; thin…lipped face they crowned。  But
the face had not a girlish expression:  the features were sharp;
the pale grey eyes at once acute; restless; and sarcastic。  They
were fixed on me in half…smiling curiosity; and I felt a painful
sensation as if a sharp wind were cutting me。  The pale…green
dress; and the green leaves that seemed to form a border about her
pale blond hair; made me think of a Water…Nixiefor my mind was
full of German lyrics; and this pale; fatal…eyed woman; with the
green weeds; looked like a birth from some cold sedgy stream; the
daughter of an aged river。

〃Well; Latimer; you thought me long;〃 my father said 。 。 。

But while the last word was in my ears; the whole group vanished;
and there was nothing between me and the Chinese printed folding…
screen that stood before the door。  I was cold and trembling; I
could only totter forward and throw myself on the sofa。  This
strange new power had manifested itself again 。 。 。 But WAS it a
power?  Might it not rather be a diseasea sort of intermittent
delirium; concentrating my energy of brain into moments of
unhealthy activity; and leaving my saner hours all the more barren?
I felt a dizzy sense of unreality in what my eye rested on; I
grasped the bell convulsively; like one trying to free himself from
nightmare; and rang it twice。  Pierre came with a look of alarm in
his face。

〃Monsieur ne se trouve pas bien?〃 he said anxiously。

〃I'm tired of waiting; Pierre;〃 I said; as distinctly and
emphatically as I could; like a man determined to be sober in spite
of wine; 〃I'm afraid something has happened to my fatherhe's
usually so punctual。  Run to the Hotel des Bergues and see if he is
there。〃

Pierre left the room at once; with a soothing 〃Bien; Monsieur〃; and
I felt the better for this scene of simple; waking prose。  Seeking
to calm myself still further; I went into my bedroom; adjoining the
salon; and opened a case of eau…de…Cologne; took out a bottle; went
through the process of taking out the cork very neatly; and then
rubbed the reviving spirit over my hands and forehead; and under my
nostrils; drawing a new delight from the scent because I had
procured it by slow details of labour; and by no strange sudden
madness。  Already I had begun to taste something of the horror that
belongs to the lot of a human being whose nature is not adjusted to
simple human conditions。

Still enjoying the scent; I returned to the salon; but it was not
unoccupied; as it had been before I left it。  In front of the
Chinese folding…screen there was my father; with Mrs。 Filmore on
his right hand; and on his leftthe slim; blond…haired girl; with
the keen face and the keen eyes fixed on me in half…smiling
curiosity。

〃Well; Latimer; you thought me long;〃 my father said 。 。 。

I heard no more; felt no more; till I became conscious that I was
lying with my head low on the sofa; Pierre; and my father by my
side。  As soon as I was thoroughly revived; my father left the
room; and presently returned; saying …

〃I've been to tell the ladies how you are; Latimer。  They were
waiting in the next room。  We shall put off our shopping expedition
to…day。〃

Presently he said; 〃That young lady is Bertha Grant; Mrs。 Filmore's
orphan niece。  Filmore has adopted her; and she lives with them; so
you will have her for a neighbour when we go homeperhaps for a
near relation; for there is a tenderness between her and Alfred; I
suspect; and I should be gratified by the match; since Filmore
means to provide for her in every way as if she were his daughter。
It had not occurred to me that you knew nothing about her living
with the Filmores。〃

He made no further allusion to the fact of my having fainted at the
moment of seeing her; and I would not for the world have told him
the reason:  I shrank from the idea of disclosing to any one what
might be regarded as a pitiable peculiarity; most of all from
betraying it to my father; who would have suspected my sanity ever
after。

I do not mean to dwell with particularity on the details of my
experience。  I have described these two cases at length; because
they had definite; clearly traceable results in my after…lot。

Shortly after this last occurrenceI think the very next dayI
began to be aware of a phase in my abnormal sensibility; to which;
from the languid and slight nature of my intercourse with others
since my illness; I had not been alive before。  This was the
obtrusion on my mind of the mental process going forward in first
one person; and then another; with whom I happened to be in
contact:  the vagrant; frivolous ideas and emotions of some
uninteresting acquaintanceMrs。 Filmore; for examplewould force
themselves on my consciousness like an importunate; ill…played
musical instrument; or the loud activity of an imprisoned insect。
But this unpleasant sensibility was fitful; and left me moments of
rest; when the souls of my companions were once more shut out from
me; and I felt a relief such as silence brings t
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