VIII

类别:文学名著 作者:叶芝 本章:VIII

    Of late years I en explained ilde to myself by ory. ance of my fatraditions tcory still current in Dublin of Lady ilde saying to a servant.  tes on ttle?  are t for? tories, and even a ory, tion of some Connaug, t tells ook out to consult , and laid te, intending to replace t, and en by a cat. As a certain friend of mine, ure of cats, said slove eyes. t t fed tion of Cy, untidy, daring, and ies, mig ive and learned. Lady ilde,  none migainly amid mucer and circumstance. S I  to live on somee, because I  all an imaginary life; perpetually performed a play   off completely  opening iful  erday  ed in Flaubert and Pater, read  as a scer reads oo, t because of all t  endure tary toil of creative art and so remained a man of action, exaggerating, for te effect, every trick learned from ers, turning ting into painted scenes.  a parvenu ory in tes to a lady of title, it  to s omime beanstalk. quot;Did you ever ; a friend of ; say the Duke of York

    ;

    old me once t  in Parliament and, ed,   of Beaconsfield, ement, for e triump ty, if at all, from tact of events; table  and made est talker of ime, and  merit tation, noen defend  ion for ry, for Broti, in t vogue isfy ion: never but once before ist seemed so great, never  seemed so difficult. I o Cellini o do so satisfactory as to turn bravo and assassinate the man who broke Michael Angelos nose.


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