iancaldwell&dustinthomason.theruleoffour-第23部分

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fearful　eyes。　In　a　moment　he　passes　across　the　threshold；　into　the　anteroom；　and　is　gone　from　sight。
　　
　Intense　murmuring　seizes　the　lecture　hall　as　soon　as　he　has　vanished。
　〃What　the　hell　was　that？〃　I　ask；　looking　back　at　the　exit。
　In　our　corner；　Gil　steps　over　toward　Paul。
　〃Are　you　okay？〃
　Paul　is　fumbling。　〃I　don't　understand　。　。　。〃
　Gil　places　an　arm　over　his　shoulder。　〃What　did　you　say　to　him？〃
　〃Nothing；〃　Paul　says。　〃I　have　to　go　after　him。〃　His　hands　are　shaking；　the　diary　still　tucked　between　them。　〃I　need　to　talk　to　him。〃
　Charlie　begins　to　protest；　but　Paul　is　too　upset　to　argue。　Before　any　of　us　can　insist　otherwise；　he　turns　and　heads　for　the　door。
　〃I'll　go　with　him；〃　I　say　to　Charlie。
　He　nods。　Taft's　voice　has　begun　to　roll　again　in　the　background；　and　when　I　look　up　at　the　stage　on　the　way　out；　the　giant　seems　to　be　staring　directly　at　me。　From　her　seat；　Katie　catches　my　attention。　She　mouths　a　question　about　Paul；　but　I　can't　understand　what　she's　saying。　Zipping　my　coat；　I　head　out　of　the　auditorium。
　In　the　courtyard；　canopies　lurch　like　skeletons　in　the　dark；　dancing　on　their　peg　legs。　The　wind　has　softened；　but　the　snow　continues；　thicker　than　before。　Around　the　corner　I　hear　Paul's　voice。
　〃Are　you　okay？〃
　I　turn　the　corner。　Not　ten　feet　away　is　Richard　Curry；　jacket　fluttering　in　the　wind。
　〃What's　wrong？〃　Paul　asks。
　〃Get　back　inside；〃　Curry　says。
　I　step　forward　to　hear　more；　but　snow　crunches　beneath　my　feet。　Curry　looks　over；　and　their　conversation　halts。　I　expect　some　spark　of　recognition　in　his　eyes；　but　find　none。　After　putting　his　hand　on　Paul's　shoulder；　Curry　slowly　backs　away。
　〃Richard！　Can't　we　talk　somewhere？〃　Paul　calls　out。
　But　the　old　man　distances　himself　quickly；　slipping　his　arms　into　his　suit　jacket。　He　doesn't　answer。
　It　takes　me　a　second　to　regain　my　wits　and　go　to　Paul's　side。　Together　we　watch　Curry　disappear　into　the　shadow　of　the　chapel。
　〃I　need　to　find　out　where　Bill　got　the　diary；〃　he　says。
　〃Right　now？〃
　Paul　nods。
　〃Where　is　he？〃
　〃Taft's　office　at　the　Institute。〃
　I　look　out　across　the　courtyard。　Paul's　only　transportation　is　an　old　Datsun　he　bought　with　his　stipend　from　Curry。　The　Institute　is　a　long　way　from　here。
　〃Why'd　you　leave　the　lecture？〃　he　asks。
　〃I　thought　you　might　need　some　help。〃
　My　bottom　lip　is　shivering。　Snow　is　gathering　in　Paul's　hair。
　〃I'll　be　okay；〃　he　says。
　But　he's　the　one　without　a　coat。
　〃e　on。　We　can　drive　out　there　together。〃
　He　looks　down　at　his　shoes。　〃I　have　to　talk　to　him　alone。〃
　〃You're　sure？〃
　He　nods。
　〃At　least　take　this；〃　I　offer；　unzipping　the　peacoat。
　He　smiles。　〃Thanks。〃
　〃Call　us　if　you　need　anything。〃
　Paul　puts　on　the　coat　and　slips　the　diary　under　his　arm。　After　a　second　he　begins　walking　off　into　the　snow。
　〃You're　sure　you　don't　want　help？〃　I　shout　before　he's　out　of　earshot。
　He　turns　back；　but　only　to　nod。
　Good　luck；　I　say；　almost　to　myself。
　And　as　the　cold　plunges　below　the　neckline　of　my　shirt；　I　know　there's　nothing　left　to　do。　When　Paul　vanishes　into　the　distance；　I　head　back　inside。
　　
　On　my　way　up　to　the　auditorium　I　pass　by　the　blonde　without　a　word　and　find　that　Charlie　and　Gil　haven't　moved　from　their　spot　in　the　rear　of　the　lecture　hall。　They　pay　me　no　attention；　Taft　has　won　their　interest。　His　voice　is　hypnotic。
　〃Everything　okay？〃　Gil　whispers。
　I　nod；　not　wanting　to　get　into　the　details。
　〃Certain　modern　interpreters；〃　Taft　is　saying；　〃have　been　content　to　accept　that　the　book　conforms　to　many　conventions　of　an　old　Renaissance　genre；　the　bucolic　romance。　But　if　the　Hypnerotomachia　is　just　a　conventional　love　story；　then　why　are　only　thirty　pages　devoted　to　the　romance　between　Poliphilo　and　Polia？　Why　do　the　other　three　hundred　and　forty　pages　form　a　maze　of　subplots；　strange　encounters　with　mythological　figures；　dissertations　on　esoteric　subjects？　If　only　one　out　of　every　ten　words　pertains　to　the　romance　itself；　then　how　do　we　explain　the　other　ninety　percent　of　the　book？〃
　Charlie　turns　to　me　again。　〃Do　you　know　all　this　stuff？〃
　〃Yeah。〃　I've　heard　the　same　lecture　a　dozen　times　over　the　dinner　table　at　home。
　〃In　short；　it　is　no　mere　love　story。　Poliphilo's　'struggle　for　love　in　a　dream'…as　the　Latin　title　would　have　it…is　much　more　plex　than　boy…meets…girl。　For　five　hundred　years　scholars　have　exposed　the　book　to　the　most　powerful　interpretive　tools　of　their　day；　and　not　one　of　them　has　found　a　way　out　of　the　labyrinth。
　〃How　difficult　is　the　Hypnerotomachia？　Consider　how　its　translators　have　fared。　The　first　French　translator　condensed　the　opening　sentence；　which　was　originally　more　than　seventy　words　long；　into　less　than　a　dozen。　Robert　Dallington；　a　contemporary　of　Shakespeare's　who　attempted　a　closer　translation；　simply　despaired。　He　gave　up　before　he　was　halfway　through。　No　English　translation　has　been　attempted　since。　Western　intellectuals　have　considered　the　book　a　byword　for　obscurity　almost　since　it　was　published。　Rabelais　made　fun　of　it。　Castiglione　warned　Renaissance　men　not　to　speak　like　Poliphilo　when　wooing　women。
　〃Why；　then；　is　it　so　difficult　to　understand？　Because　it　contains　not　only　Latin　and　Italian；　but　also　Greek；　Hebrew；　Arabic；　Chaldean；　and　Egyptian　hieroglyphics。　The　author　wrote　in　several　of　them　at　once；　sometimes　interchangeably。　When　those　languages　were　not　enough；　he　invented　words　of　his　own。
　〃In　addition；　there　are　mysteries　surrounding　the　book。　To　begin　with；　until　very　recently　no　one　knew　who　wrote　it。　The　secret　of　the　author's　identity　was　so　closely　guarded　that　not　even　the　great　Aldus　himself；　its　publisher；　knew　who'd　posed　his　most　famous　work。　One　of　the　Hypnerotomachia's　editors　wrote　an　introduction　to　it　in　which　he　asks　the　Muses　to　reveal　the　author's　name。　The　Muses　refuse。　They　explain　that　'it　is　better　to　be　cautious；　to　keep　divine　things　from　being　devoured　by　vengeful　jealousy。'
　〃My　question　to　you；　then；　is　this：　Why　would　the　author　have　gone　to　such　trouble　if　he　were　writing　nothing　more　than　a　bucolic　romance？　Why　so　many　languages？　Why　two　hundred　pages　on　architecture？　Why　eighteen　pages　on　a　temple　of　Venus；　or　twelve　on　an　underwater　labyrinth？　Why　fifty　on　a　pyramid？　Or　another　hundred　and　forty　on　gems　and　metals；　ballet　and　music；　food　and　table　settings；　flora　and　fauna？
　〃Perhaps　more　important；　what　Roman　could　have　learned　so　much　about　so　many　subjects；　mastered　so　many　languages；　and　convinced　the　greatest　printer　in　Italy　to　publish　his　mysterious　book　without　so　much　as　mentioning　his　name？
　〃Above　all；　what　were　the　'divine　things'　alluded　to　in　the　introduction；　which　the　Muses　refused　to　divulge？　What　was　the　vengeful　jealousy　they　feared　these　things　might　inspire？
　〃The　answer　is　that　this　is　no　romance。　The　author　must　have　intended　something　else…something　that　we　scholars　have　as　yet　failed　to　understand。　But　where　do　we　begin　searching　for　it？
　〃I　do　not　intend　to　answer　that　question　for　you。　Instead；　I　will　leave　you　with　a　puzzle　of　your　own　to　muse　over。　Solve　this；　and　you　are　one　step　closer　to　understanding　what　the　Hypnerotomachia　means。〃
　With　that；　Taft　triggers　the　slide　machine　with　a　pump　of　his　palm　on　the　remote。　Three　images　appear　over　the　screen；　disarming　in　their　stark　black　and　white。
　〃These　are　three　prints　from　the　Hypnerotomachia；　depicting　a　nightmare　that　Polia　suffers　late　in　the　story。　As　she　relates；　the　first　shows　a　child　riding　a　burning　chariot　into　a　forest；　drawn　by　two　naked　women　whom　he　whips　like　beasts。　Polia　looks　on　from　her　hiding　place　in　the　woods。
　
　
　
　〃The　second　print　shows　the　child　releasing　the　women　by　slicing　their　red…hot　chains　with　an　iron　sword。　He　then　thrusts　the　sword　through　each　of　them；　and　once　they　are　dead；　he　dismembers　them。
　〃In　the　final　print；　the　child　has　torn　out　the　still…beating　hearts　of　the　two　women　from　their　corpses　and　fed　them　to　birds　of　prey。　The　innards　he　feeds　to　eagles。　Then；　after　quartering　the　bodies；　he　throws　the　rest　to　the　dogs；　wolves；　and　lions　that　have　gathered　about。
　〃When　Polia　awakens　from　this　dream；　her　nurse　explains　that　the　child　is　Cupid；　and　that　the　women　were　young　maidens　who　offended　him　by　refusing　the　affections　of　their　suitors。　Polia　deduces　that　she　has　been　wrong　to　rebuff　Poliphilo。〃
　Taft　pauses；　turning　his　back　to　the　audience　in　order　to　contemplate　the　enormous　images　that　seem　to　float　in　the　air　at　his　back。
　〃But　what　if　we　suppose　that　the　explicit　meaning　is　not　the　real　meaning？〃　he　says；　his　back　still　to　us；　in　a　disembodied　voice　that　resonates　through　the　microphone　on　his　chest。　〃What　if　the　nurse's　interpretation　of　the　dream　is　not；　in　fact；　the　right　one？　What　if　we　were　to　use　the　punishment　inflicted　on　these　women　to　decipher　what　their　crime　truly　was？
　〃Consider　a　legal　punishment　for　high　treason　that　survived　among　certain　European　nations　for　centuries　before　and　after　the　Hypnerotomachia　was　written。　A　criminal　convicted　of　high　treason　was　first　drawn…meaning　that　he　was　tied　to　the　tail　of　a　horse　and　dragged　across　the　ground　through　the　city。　He　was　brought　in　this　way　to　the　gallows；　where　he　was　hanged　until　he　was　not　fu