第45部分(第1/7 页)

This　was　what　their　love　had　bee；　a　sensuality　violent　and

extreme　as　death。　They　had　no　conscious　intimacy；　no　tenderness

of　love。　It　was　all　the　lust　and　the　infinite；　maddening

intoxication　of　the　sense；　a　passion　of　death。

He　had　always；　all　his　life；　had　a　secret　dread　of　Absolute

Beauty。　It　had　always　been　like　a　fetish　to　him；　something　to

fear；　really。　For　it　was　immoral　and　against　mankind。　So　he　had

turned　to　the　Gothic　form；　which　always　asserted　the　broken

desire　of　mankind　in　its　pointed　arches；　escaping　the　rolling；

absolute　beauty　of　the　round　arch。

But　now　he　had　given　way；　and　with　infinite　sensual　violence

gave　himself　to　the　realization　of　this　supreme；　immoral；

Absolute　Beauty；　in　the　body　of　woman。　It　seemed　to　him；　that　it

came　to　being　in　the　body　of　woman；　under　his　touch。　Under　his

touch；　even　under　his　sight；　it　was　there。　But　when　he　neither

saw　nor　touched　the　perfect　place；　it　was　not　perfect；　it　was

not　there。　And　he　must　make　it　exist。

But　still　the　thing　terrified　him。　Awful　and　threatening　it

was；　dangerous　to　a　degree；　even　whilst　he　gave　himself　to　it。

It　was　pure　darkness；　also。　All　the　shameful　things　of　the　body

revealed　themselves　to　him　now　with　a　sort　of　sinister；　tropical

beauty。　All　the　shameful；　natural　and　unnatural　acts　of　sensual

voluptuousness　which　he　and　the　woman　partook　of　together；

created　together；　they　had　their　heavy　beauty　and　their　delight。

Shame；　what　was　it？　It　was　part　of　extreme　delight。　It　was　that

part　of　delight　of　which　man　is　usually　afraid。　Why　afraid？　The

secret；　shameful　things　are　most　terribly　beautiful。

They