Цитаты из аудиокниги «Орландо», страница 37

Added to which (we whisper again lest the women may overhear us), there is a little secret which men share among them; Lord Chesterfield whispered it to his son with strict injunctions to secrecy, 'Women are but children of a larger growth...A man of sense only trifles with them, plays with them, humours and flatters them', which, since children always hear what they are not meant to, and sometimes, even, grow up, may have somehow leaked out, so that the whole ceremony of pouring out tea is a curious one. A woman knows very well that, though a wit sends her his poems, praises her judgment, solicits her criticism, and drinks her tea, this by no means signifies that he respects her opinions, admires her understanding, or will refuse, though the rapier is denied him, to run her through the body with his pen.

'It is equally vain', she thought; 'for you to think you can protect me, or for me to think I can worship you. The light of truth beats upon us without shadow, and the light of truth is damnably unbecoming to us both.'

For to him, said the Archduke Harry, she was and would ever be the Pink, the Pearl, the Perfection of her sex. The three p's would have been more persuasive if they had not been interspersed with tee-hees and haw-haws of the strangest kind. 'If this is love,' said Orlando to herself, looking at the Archduke on the other side of the fender, and now from the woman's point of view, 'there is something highly ridiculous about it.'

Nothing, however, can be more arrogant, though nothing is commoner than to assume that of Gods there is only one, and of religions none but the speaker's.

'And that's the last oath I shall ever be able to swear,' she thought; 'once I set foot on English soil. And I shall never be able to crack a man over the head, or tell him he lies in his teeth, or draw my sword and run him through the body, or sit among my peers, or wear a coronet, or walk in procession, or sentence a man to death, or lead an army, or prance down Whitehall on a charger, or wear seventy-two different medals on my breast. All I can do, once I set foot on English soil, is to pour out tea and ask my lords how they like it. D'you take sugar? D'you take cream?' And mincing out the words, she was horrified to perceive how low an opinion she was forming of the other sex, the manly, to which it had once been her pride to belong - 'To fall from a mast-head', she thought, 'because you see a woman's ankles; to dress up like a Guy Fawkes and parade the streets, so that women may praise you; to deny a woman teaching lest she may laugh at you; to be the slave of the frailest chit in petticoats. and yet to go about as if you were the Lords of creation. - Heavens!' she thought, 'what fools they make of us - what fools we are!' And here it would seem from some ambiguity in her terms that she was censuring both sexes equally, as if she belonged to neither; and indeed, for the time being, she seemed to vacillate; she was man; she was woman; she knew the secrets, shared the weaknesses of each.

She remembered how, as a young man, she had insisted that women must be obedient, chaste, scented, and exquisitely apparelled. 'Now I shall have to pay in my own person for those desires,' she reflected; 'for women are not (judging by my own short experience of the sex) obedient, chaste, scented, and exquisitely apparelled by nature. They can only attain these graces, without which they may enjoy none of the delights of life, by the most tedious discipline.'

Потому что Любовь, к которой мы наконец можем вернуться, имеет два лица: одно белое, другое черное; два тела: одно гладкое, другое волосатое. Она имеет две руки, две ноги, два хвоста – словом, всего по паре и непременно из совершенных противоположностей. В данном случае, любовь Орландо начала свой лет, обратив к нему белое лицо и сверкая гладким, нежным телом. Она близилась, близилась, овевая его небесным восторгом. Но вдруг (возможно, при виде эрцгерцогини) она шарахнулась, резко повернула и явилась уже в черном, волосатом, гнусном виде; и вовсе не Любовь, не птица рая – стервятник похоти с мерзейшим грубым стуком уселся на его плечо.

Прочитав его со смертельным самообладанием от начала и до конца, он позвонил лакею, протянул ему сей документ на кончике каминных щипцов, приказал как можно глубже засунуть его в самую зловонную помойку поместья.

Все потемнело. По щекам Орландо лились слезы. Он взглянул на небо - так тоже была черная тьма. Все окутывает смерть и мрак, думал Орландо. Жизнь человеческая кончается гробом. Черви нас сожрут.

Он - поскольку не было никаких сомнений в том, что он мальчик, хотя наряд его по моде тех времен скрывал пол - энергично рассекал воздух кинжалом возле головы мавра, покачивающейся на стропиле.