-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Уильям Сомерсет Моэм
-
- Луна и грош
-
- Стр. 2/193
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
It
was
a
hazardous
,
though
maybe
a
gallant
thing
to
do
,
since
it
is
probable
that
the
legend
commonly
received
has
had
no
small
share
in
the
growth
of
Strickland
’
s
reputation
;
for
there
are
many
who
have
been
attracted
to
his
art
by
the
detestation
in
which
they
held
his
character
or
the
compassion
with
which
they
regarded
his
death
;
and
the
son
’
s
well
-
meaning
efforts
threw
a
singular
chill
upon
the
father
’
s
admirers
.
It
is
due
to
no
accident
that
when
one
of
his
most
important
works
,
The
Woman
of
Samaria
,
was
sold
at
Christie
’
s
shortly
after
the
discussion
which
followed
the
publication
of
Mr
.
Strickland
’
s
biography
,
it
fetched
POUNDS
235
less
than
it
had
done
nine
months
before
when
it
was
bought
by
the
distinguished
collector
whose
sudden
death
had
brought
it
once
more
under
the
hammer
.
Perhaps
Charles
Strickland
’
s
power
and
originality
would
scarcely
have
sufficed
to
turn
the
scale
if
the
remarkable
mythopoeic
faculty
of
mankind
had
not
brushed
aside
with
impatience
a
story
which
disappointed
all
its
craving
for
the
extraordinary
.
And
presently
Dr
.
Weitbrecht
-
Rotholz
produced
the
work
which
finally
set
at
rest
the
misgivings
of
all
lovers
of
art
.
Dr
.
Weitbrecht
-
Rotholz
belongs
to
that
school
of
historians
which
believes
that
human
nature
is
not
only
about
as
bad
as
it
can
be
,
but
a
great
deal
worse
;
and
certainly
the
reader
is
safer
of
entertainment
in
their
hands
than
in
those
of
the
writers
who
take
a
malicious
pleasure
in
representing
the
great
figures
of
romance
as
patterns
of
the
domestic
virtues
.
For
my
part
,
I
should
be
sorry
to
think
that
there
was
nothing
between
Anthony
and
Cleopatra
but
an
economic
situation
;
and
it
will
require
a
great
deal
more
evidence
than
is
ever
likely
to
be
available
,
thank
God
,
to
persuade
me
that
Tiberius
was
as
blameless
a
monarch
as
King
George
V
.
Dr
.
Weitbrecht
-
Rotholz
has
dealt
in
such
terms
with
the
Rev
.
Robert
Strickland
’
s
innocent
biography
that
it
is
difficult
to
avoid
feeling
a
certain
sympathy
for
the
unlucky
parson
.
His
decent
reticence
is
branded
as
hypocrisy
,
his
circumlocutions
are
roundly
called
lies
,
and
his
silence
is
vilified
as
treachery
.
And
on
the
strength
of
peccadillos
,
reprehensible
in
an
author
,
but
excusable
in
a
son
,
the
Anglo
-
Saxon
race
is
accused
of
prudishness
,
humbug
,
pretentiousness
,
deceit
,
cunning
,
and
bad
cooking
.
Personally
I
think
it
was
rash
of
Mr
.
Strickland
,
in
refuting
the
account
which
had
gained
belief
of
a
certain
"
unpleasantness
"
between
his
father
and
mother
,
to
state
that
Charles
Strickland
in
a
letter
written
from
Paris
had
described
her
as
"
an
excellent
woman
,
"
since
Dr
.
Weitbrecht
-
Rotholz
was
able
to
print
the
letter
in
facsimile
,
and
it
appears
that
the
passage
referred
to
ran
in
fact
as
follows
:
God
damn
my
wife
.
She
is
an
excellent
woman
.
I
wish
she
was
in
hell
.
It
is
not
thus
that
the
Church
in
its
great
days
dealt
with
evidence
that
was
unwelcome
.
Dr
.
Weitbrecht
-
Rotholz
was
an
enthusiastic
admirer
of
Charles
Strickland
,
and
there
was
no
danger
that
he
would
whitewash
him
.
He
had
an
unerring
eye
for
the
despicable
motive
in
actions
that
had
all
the
appearance
of
innocence
He
was
a
psycho
-
pathologist
,
as
well
as
a
student
of
art
,
and
the
subconscious
had
few
secrets
from
him
.
No
mystic
ever
saw
deeper
meaning
in
common
things
.
The
mystic
sees
the
ineffable
,
and
the
psycho
-
pathologist
the
unspeakable
.
There
is
a
singular
fascination
in
watching
the
eagerness
with
which
the
learned
author
ferrets
out
every
circumstance
which
may
throw
discredit
on
his
hero
.
His
heart
warms
to
him
when
he
can
bring
forward
some
example
of
cruelty
or
meanness
,
and
he
exults
like
an
inquisitor
at
the
auto
da
fe
of
an
heretic
when
with
some
forgotten
story
he
can
confound
the
filial
piety
of
the
Rev
.
Robert
Strickland
.
His
industry
has
been
amazing
.
Nothing
has
been
too
small
to
escape
him
,
and
you
may
be
sure
that
if
Charles
Strickland
left
a
laundry
bill
unpaid
it
will
be
given
you
in
extenso
,
and
if
he
forebore
to
return
a
borrowed
half
-
crown
no
detail
of
the
transaction
will
be
omitted
.
When
so
much
has
been
written
about
Charles
Strickland
,
it
may
seem
unnecessary
that
I
should
write
more
.
A
painter
’
s
monument
is
his
work
.
It
is
true
I
knew
him
more
intimately
than
most
:
I
met
him
first
before
ever
he
became
a
painter
,
and
I
saw
him
not
infrequently
during
the
difficult
years
he
spent
in
Paris
;
but
I
do
not
suppose
I
should
ever
have
set
down
my
recollections
if
the
hazards
of
the
war
had
not
taken
me
to
Tahiti
.
There
,
as
is
notorious
,
he
spent
the
last
years
of
his
life
;
and
there
I
came
across
persons
who
were
familiar
with
him
.
I
find
myself
in
a
position
to
throw
light
on
just
that
part
of
his
tragic
career
which
has
remained
most
obscure
.
If
they
who
believe
in
Strickland
’
s
greatness
are
right
,
the
personal
narratives
of
such
as
knew
him
in
the
flesh
can
hardly
be
superfluous
.
What
would
we
not
give
for
the
reminiscences
of
someone
who
had
been
as
intimately
acquainted
with
El
Greco
as
I
was
with
Strickland
?
But
I
seek
refuge
in
no
such
excuses
.
I
forget
who
it
was
that
recommended
men
for
their
soul
’
s
good
to
do
each
day
two
things
they
disliked
:
it
was
a
wise
man
,
and
it
is
a
precept
that
I
have
followed
scrupulously
;
for
every
day
I
have
got
up
and
I
have
gone
to
bed
.
But
there
is
in
my
nature
a
strain
of
asceticism
,
and
I
have
subjected
my
flesh
each
week
to
a
more
severe
mortification
.
I
have
never
failed
to
read
the
Literary
Supplement
of
The
Times
.
It
is
a
salutary
discipline
to
consider
the
vast
number
of
books
that
are
written
,
the
fair
hopes
with
which
their
authors
see
them
published
,
and
the
fate
which
awaits
them
.
What
chance
is
there
that
any
book
will
make
its
way
among
that
multitude
?
And
the
successful
books
are
but
the
successes
of
a
season
.
Heaven
knows
what
pains
the
author
has
been
at
,
what
bitter
experiences
he
has
endured
and
what
heartache
suffered
,
to
give
some
chance
reader
a
few
hours
’
relaxation
or
to
while
away
the
tedium
of
a
journey
.
And
if
I
may
judge
from
the
reviews
,
many
of
these
books
are
well
and
carefully
written
;
much
thought
has
gone
to
their
composition
;
to
some
even
has
been
given
the
anxious
labour
of
a
lifetime
.
The
moral
I
draw
is
that
the
writer
should
seek
his
reward
in
the
pleasure
of
his
work
and
in
release
from
the
burden
of
his
thought
;
and
,
indifferent
to
aught
else
,
care
nothing
for
praise
or
censure
,
failure
or
success
.
Now
the
war
has
come
,
bringing
with
it
a
new
attitude
.
Youth
has
turned
to
gods
we
of
an
earlier
day
knew
not
,
and
it
is
possible
to
see
already
the
direction
in
which
those
who
come
after
us
will
move
.
The
younger
generation
,
conscious
of
strength
and
tumultuous
,
have
done
with
knocking
at
the
door
;
they
have
burst
in
and
seated
themselves
in
our
seats
.
The
air
is
noisy
with
their
shouts
.
Of
their
elders
some
,
by
imitating
the
antics
of
youth
,
strive
to
persuade
themselves
that
their
day
is
not
yet
over
;
they
shout
with
the
lustiest
,
but
the
war
cry
sounds
hollow
in
their
mouth
;
they
are
like
poor
wantons
attempting
with
pencil
,
paint
and
powder
,
with
shrill
gaiety
,
to
recover
the
illusion
of
their
spring
.
The
wiser
go
their
way
with
a
decent
grace
.
In
their
chastened
smile
is
an
indulgent
mockery
.
They
remember
that
they
too
trod
down
a
sated
generation
,
with
just
such
clamor
and
with
just
such
scorn
,
and
they
foresee
that
these
brave
torch
-
bearers
will
presently
yield
their
place
also
.
There
is
no
last
word
.
The
new
evangel
was
old
when
Nineveh
reared
her
greatness
to
the
sky
.
These
gallant
words
which
seem
so
novel
to
those
that
speak
them
were
said
in
accents
scarcely
changed
a
hundred
times
before
.
The
pendulum
swings
backwards
and
forwards
.
The
circle
is
ever
travelled
anew
.