奥兰多orlando (英文版)作者:弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙-第20章

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Here　they　make　as　if　to　cover　Orlando　with　their　draperies。　The　trumpets；　meanwhile；　still　blare　forth；

‘The　Truth　and　nothing　but　the　Truth。’

At　this　the　Sisters　try　to　cast　their　veils　over　the　mouths　of　the　trumpets　so　as　to　muffle　them；　but　in　vain；　for　now　all　the　trumpets　blare　forth　together；

‘Horrid　Sisters；　go！’

The　sisters　bee　distracted　and　wail　in　unison；　still　circling　and　flinging　their　veils　up　and　down。

‘It　has　not　always　been　so！　But　men　want　us　no　longer；　the　women　detest　us。　We　go；　we　go。　I　（PURITY　SAYS　THIS）　to　the　hen　roost。　I　（CHASTITY　SAYS　THIS）　to　the　still　unravished　heights　of　Surrey。　I　（MODESTY　SAYS　THIS）　to　any　cosy　nook　where　there　are　ivy　and　curtains　in　plenty。’

‘For　there；　not　here　（all　speak　together　joining　hands　and　making　gestures　of　farewell　and　despair　towards　the　bed　where　Orlando　lies　sleeping）　dwell　still　in　nest　and　boudoir；　office　and　lawcourt　those　who　love　us；　those　who　honour　us；　virgins　and　city　men；　lawyers　and　doctors；　those　who　prohibit；　those　who　deny；　those　who　reverence　without　knowing　why；　those　who　praise　without　understanding；　the　still　very　numerous　（Heaven　be　praised）　tribe　of　the　respectable；　who　prefer　to　see　not；　desire　to　know　not；　love　the　darkness；　those　still　worship　us；　and　with　reason；　for　we　have　given　them　Wealth；　Prosperity；　fort；　Ease。　To　them　we　go；　you　we　leave。　e；　Sisters；　e！　This　is　no　place　for　us　here。’

They　retire　in　haste；　waving　their　draperies　over　their　heads；　as　if　to　shut　out　something　that　they　dare　not　look　upon　and　close　the　door　behind　them。

We　are；　therefore；　now　left　entirely　alone　in　the　room　with　the　sleeping　Orlando　and　the　trumpeters。　The　trumpeters；　ranging　themselves　side　by　side　in　order；　blow　one　terrific　blast：—

‘THE　TRUTH！

at　which　Orlando　woke。

He　stretched　himself。　He　rose。　He　stood　upright　in　plete　nakedness　before　us；　and　while　the　trumpets　pealed　Truth！　Truth！　Truth！　we　have　no　choice　left　but　confess—he　was　a　woman。






The　sound　of　the　trumpets　died　away　and　Orlando　stood　stark　naked。　No　human　being；　since　the　world　began；　has　ever　looked　more　ravishing。　His　form　bined　in　one　the　strength　of　a　man　and　a　woman’s　grace。　As　he　stood　there；　the　silver　trumpets　prolonged　their　note；　as　if　reluctant　to　leave　the　lovely　sight　which　their　blast　had　called　forth；　and　Chastity；　Purity；　and　Modesty；　inspired；　no　doubt；　by　Curiosity；　peeped　in　at　the　door　and　threw　a　garment　like　a　towel　at　the　naked　form　which；　unfortunately；　fell　short　by　several　inches。　Orlando　looked　himself　up　and　down　in　a　long　looking–glass；　without　showing　any　signs　of　disposure；　and　went；　presumably；　to　his　bath。

We　may　take　advantage　of　this　pause　in　the　narrative　to　make　certain　statements。　Orlando　had　bee　a　woman—there　is　no　denying　it。　But　in　every　other　respect；　Orlando　remained　precisely　as　he　had　been。　The　change　of　sex；　though　it　altered　their　future；　did　nothing　whatever　to　alter　their　identity。　Their　faces　remained；　as　their　portraits　prove；　practically　the　same。　His　memory—but　in　future　we　must；　for　convention’s　sake；　say　‘her’　for　‘his；’　and　‘she’　for　‘he’—her　memory　then；　went　back　through　all　the　events　of　her　past　life　without　encountering　any　obstacle。　Some　slight　haziness　there　may　have　been；　as　if　a　few　dark　drops　had　fallen　into　the　clear　pool　of　memory；　certain　things　had　bee　a　little　dimmed；　but　that　was　all。　The　change　seemed　to　have　been　acplished　painlessly　and　pletely　and　in　such　a　way　that　Orlando　herself　showed　no　surprise　at　it。　Many　people；　taking　this　into　account；　and　holding　that　such　a　change　of　sex　is　against　nature；　have　been　at　great　pains　to　prove　（1）　that　Orlando　had　always　been　a　woman；　（2）　that　Orlando　is　at　this　moment　a　man。　Let　biologists　and　psychologists　determine。　It　is　enough　for　us　to　state　the　simple　fact；　Orlando　was　a　man　till　the　age　of　thirty；　when　he　became　a　woman　and　has　remained　so　ever　since。

But　let　other　pens　treat　of　sex　and　sexuality；　we　quit　such　odious　subjects　as　soon　as　we　can。　Orlando　had　now　washed；　and　dressed　herself　in　those　Turkish　coats　and　trousers　which　can　be　worn　indifferently　by　either　sex；　and　was　forced　to　consider　her　position。　That　it　was　precarious　and　embarrassing　in　the　extreme　must　be　the　first　thought　of　every　reader　who　has　followed　her　story　with　sympathy。　Young；　noble；　beautiful；　she　had　woken　to　find　herself　in　a　position　than　which　we　can　conceive　none　more　delicate　for　a　young　lady　of　rank。　We　should　not　have　blamed　her　had　she　rung　the　bell；　screamed；　or　fainted。　But　Orlando　showed　no　such　signs　of　perturbation。　All　her　actions　were　deliberate　in　the　extreme；　and　might　indeed　have　been　thought　to　show　tokens　of　premeditation。　First；　she　carefully　examined　the　papers　on　the　table；　took　such　as　seemed　to　be　written　in　poetry；　and　secreted　them　in　her　bosom；　next　she　called　her　Seleuchi　hound；　which　had　never　left　her　bed　all　these　days；　though　half　famished　with　hunger；　fed　and　bed　him；　then　stuck　a　pair　of　pistols　in　her　belt；　finally　wound　about　her　person　several　strings　of　emeralds　and　pearls　of　the　finest　orient　which　had　formed　part　of　her　Ambassadorial　wardrobe。　This　done；　she　leant　out　of　the　window；　gave　one　low　whistle；　and　descended　the　shattered　and　bloodstained　staircase；　now　strewn　with　the　litter　of　waste–paper　baskets；　treaties；　despatches；　seals；　sealing　wax；　etc。；　and　so　entered　the　courtyard。　There；　in　the　shadow　of　a　giant　fig　tree；　waited　an　old　gipsy　on　a　donkey。　He　led　another　by　the　bridle。　Orlando　swung　her　leg　over　it；　and　thus；　attended　by　a　lean　dog；　riding　a　donkey；　in　pany　of　a　gipsy；　the　Ambassador　of　Great　Britain　at　the　Court　of　the　Sultan　left　Constantinople。

They　rode　for　several　days　and　nights　and　met　with　a　variety　of　adventures；　some　at　the　hands　of　men；　some　at　the　hands　of　nature；　in　all　of　which　Orlando　acquitted　herself　with　courage。　Within　a　week　they　reached　the　high　ground　outside　Broussa；　which　was　then　the　chief　camping　ground　of　the　gipsy　tribe　to　which　Orlando　had　allied　herself。　Often　she　had　looked　at　those　mountains　from　her　balcony　at　the　Embassy；　often　had　longed　to　be　there；　and　to　find　oneself　where　one　has　longed　to　be　always；　to　a　reflective　mind；　gives　food　for　thought。　For　some　time；　however；　she　was　too　well　pleased　with　the　change　to　spoil　it　by　thinking。　The　pleasure　of　having　no　documents　to　seal　or　sign；　no　flourishes　to　make；　no　calls　to　pay；　was　enough。　The　gipsies　followed　the　grass；　when　it　was　grazed　down；　on　they　moved　again。　She　washed　in　streams　if　she　washed　at　all；　no　boxes；　red；　blue；　or　green；　were　presented　to　her；　there　was　not　a　key；　let　alone　a　golden　key；　in　the　whole　camp；　as　for　‘visiting’；　the　word　was　unknown。　She　milked　the　goats；　she　collected　brushwood；　she　stole　a　hen’s　egg　now　and　then；　but　always　put　a　coin　or　a　pearl　in　place　of　it；　she　herded　cattle；　she　stripped　vines；　she　trod　the　grape；　she　filled　the　goat–skin　and　drank　from　it；　and　when　she　remembered　how；　at　about　this　time　of　day；　she　should　have　been　making　the　motions　of　drinking　and　smoking　over　an　empty　coffee–cup　and　a　pipe　which　lacked　tobacco；　she　laughed　aloud；　cut　herself　another　hunch　of　bread；　and　begged　for　a　puff　from　old　Rustum’s　pipe；　filled　though　it　was　with　cow　dung。

The　gipsies；　with　whom　it　is　obvious　that　she　must　have　been　in　secret　munication　before　the　revolution；　seem　to　have　looked　upon　her　as　one　of　themselves　（which　is　always　the　highest　pliment　a　people　can　pay）；　and　her　dark　hair　and　dark　plexion　bore　out　the　belief　that　she　was；　by　birth；　one　of　them　and　had　been　snatched　by　an　English　Duke　from　a　nut　tree　when　she　was　a　baby　and　taken　to　that　barbarous　land　where　people　live　in　houses　because　they　are　too　feeble　and　diseased　to　stand　the　open　air。　Thus；　though　in　many　ways　inferior　to　them；　they　were　willing　to　help　her　to　bee　more　like　them；　taught　her　their　arts　of　cheese–making　and　basket–weaving；　their　science　of　stealing　and　bird–snaring；　and　were　even　prepared　to　consider　letting　her　marry　among　them。

But　Orlando　had　contracted　in　England　some　of　the　customs　or　diseases　（whatever　you　choose　to　consider　them）　which　cannot；　it　seems；　be　expelled。　One　evening；　when　they　were　all　sitting　round　the　camp　fire　and　the　sunset　was　blazing　over　the　Thessalian　hills；　Orlando　exclaimed：

‘How　good　to　eat！’

（The　gipsies　have　no　word　for　‘beautiful’。　This　is　the　nearest。）

All　the　young　men　and　women　burst　out　laughing　uproariously。　The　sky　good　to　eat；　indeed！　The　elders；　however；　who　had　seen　more　of　foreigners　than　they　had；　became　suspicious。　They　noticed　that　Orlando　often　sat　for　whole　hours　doing　nothing　whatever；　except　look　here　and　then　there；　they　would　e　upon　her　on　some　hill–top　staring　straight　in　front　of　her；　no　matter　whether　the　goats　were　grazing　or　straying。　They　began　to　suspect　that　she　had　other　beliefs　than　their　own；　and　the　older　men　and　women　thought　it　probable　that　she　had　fallen　into　the　clutches　of　the　vilest　and　cruellest　among　all　the　Gods；　which　is　Nature。　Nor　were　they　far　wrong。　The　English　disease；　a　love　of　Nature；　was　inborn　in　her；　and　here；　where　Nature　was　so　much　larger　and　more　powerful　than　in　England；　she　fell　into　its　hands　as　she　had　never　done　before。　Th