Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

73 страница из 1457

“Tantum ergo Sacramentum

Veneremur cernui.”

The words of the hymn gathered strength like a triumphant paean of glory; the incense filled his brain, his very soul; a gate clanged somewhere and the candle on the altar went out.

“Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine patris, filii, spiritus sancti. Amen.”

The file of novices started toward the altar. The stained lights from the windows mingled with the candle glow, and the eucharist in its golden halo seemed to the man very mystical and sweet. It was very calm.

The subdeacon held the book for him. He placed his right hand upon it.

“In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost—”

— ◆ —

Nassau Literary Magazine (January 1917)

The scene is a boudoir, or whatever you call a lady’s room which hasn’t a bed. Smaller rooms communicate with it, one on each side. There is a window at the left and a door leading into the hall at the back. A huge pier-glass stands in the corner; it is the only object in the room which is not littered with an infinitude of tulle, hat-boxes, empty boxes, full boxes, ribbons and strings, dresses, skirts, suits, lingerie, petticoats, lace, open jewel-cases, sashes, belts, stockings, slippers, shoes—perfectly littered with more than all this. In the very middle of the confusion stands a girl. She is the only thing in the room which looks complete, or nearly complete. She needs to have her belt hooked, and has too much powder on her nose; but, aside from that, looks as though she might be presented to almost anything at almost any time, which is just what is going to happen to her. She is terrifically pleased with herself, and the long mirror is the focus of her activity. Her rather discontented face is consciously flexible to the several different effects. Expression number one seems to be a simple, almost childish, ingenue, upward glance, concentrated in the eyes and the exquisitely angelic eyelashes. When expression number two is assumed, one forgets the eyes, and the mouth is the center of the stage. The lips seem to turn from rose to a positive, unashamed crimson. They quiver slightly—where is the ingenue? Disappeared. Good evening Sapho, Venus, Madam Du—no! ah! Eve, simply Eve! The pier-glass seems to please. Expression number three:—Now her eyes and lips combine. Can this be the last stronghold? The aesthetic refuge of womanhood; her lips are drawn down at the corners, her eyes droop and almost fill with tears. Does her face turn paler? Does—No! Expression one has dismissed tears and pallor, and again—