Mauritius

. ’ And then he stopped, and the future appeared before him. ‘Maurice, Maurice,’ he said, in a more or less genial tone. ‘Maurice, where are you going? (Annotation: The original text is in Latin, based on the novel of the same name by the Polish writer Schenkiewicz (1846-1916). "Where Are You Going" describes the tyrant Nero who burned the city of Rome and blamed Christians and persecuted them. One thing. Jesus’ apostles met Jesus on the way to escape and asked him: “Lord, where are you going?” Jesus replied: “I want to go back to Rome. Let them crucify me again.” The apostles repented .Senkevich won the 1905 Nobel Prize for Literature for this work.) You are going crazy, you have completely lost your mind.May I ask if you intend to-"

"No, you can't ask," the other party interrupted him, "you belong to the past. I'll tell you everything up to this moment—I can't tell you a single word about the future."

"Maurice, Maurice, you know, I still care a little about you. Otherwise, I couldn't bear what you just told me."

Maurice opened his hand, revealing the shining petals. "I do think you care a little bit about me," he admitted, "but I can't give my whole life to that. You don't. You give your life to Annie. You don't have to worry about yourself Is your relationship with her emotionally distressed. You just know it's expensive and worth putting your life on. You can only spare me 5 minutes from her and politics, and I can't take it Your life depends on this. You will do anything for me, but refuse to see me. For a whole year, I suffered in hell. You left me to live in your house, free and easy. You paid Do your best to get me married so you can get rid of me."—and then Clive protested, and Maurice paused and said, "You do care a little about me, I know. But it's not worth mentioning, Because you don't love me. If you'll stay with me, I'll be yours until you die. But I can't cling to you forever, so now I belong to someone else—the one The way that creeps you out also belongs to me. How about you stop being creeped out, or concentrate on your own happiness?"

"Who taught you to speak like that?" said Clive breathlessly.

"If anyone ever taught me anything, it was you."

"Me? It's appalling that you attribute such thoughts to me." Clive went on.Did he destroy the thinking ability of this inferior man?He didn't realize that he and Maurice also started from Clive two years ago and came to this place all the way.One by social status, the other by rebellion.He never thought that the differences between them would inevitably become bigger and bigger in the future.He was facing a cesspit, and the slightest stink from election time would have ruined his career.However, this is his duty, and he must not shrink back. He must save his old friend.When the feeling of a hero quietly hit his heart, he began to think about how to seal Scudder's mouth, wondering whether Scudder would cheat.It is already late at night, and there is no time to discuss what methods and means should be adopted.So he invited Morris to dinner at his club in London the next week.

Maurice answered him with a laugh.Clive had always liked his friend's laugh.At this moment, the soft hehe sound reminded people of happiness and security, so a stone fell to the ground in his heart. "Okay," he said.Relieved, he even stuck his hand among the laurel bushes. "It's better than giving me the same old tirade that won't convince you or me." His last words were: "Next Wednesday, let's make it at seven forty-five. As usual, only blackouts Dress."

These were his last words, for Maurice was probably gone by then.He left a small pile of evening primrose petals as the only trace of his being there.The pile of petals lay dying on the ground like embers.Clive never knew exactly when Maurice left.As he entered his twilight years, he began to have doubts about whether such things actually happened.The blue house shimmered, and the ferns swayed.His friends waved to him on the Cambridge campus.My friends are bathed in the sun, exuding the fragrance of flowers and the noise of this semester in May.

At the time, however, he was simply offended by his friend's faux pas.He remembered that Maurice had lost control like this before, and compared it with it.He hadn't grasped that this was the end, that there was neither twilight nor compromise.What's more, I didn't expect to meet Morris again in the future, and I didn't even talk to those who saw Morris.He waited a while in the path, and then went home, not only correcting the proofs, but trying to conceal the truth from Anne.

translated by Wen Jieruo