Of Human Bondage - W. Somerset Maugham.mobi [116]
“But have you never known people do things they didn’t want to instead of things they did?”
“No. You put your question foolishly. What you mean is that people accept an immediate pain rather than an immediate pleasure. The objection is as foolish as your manner of putting it. It is clear that men accept an immediate pain rather than an immediate pleasure, but only because they expect a greater pleasure in the future. Often the pleasure is illusory, but their error in calculation is no refutation of the rule. You are puzzled because you cannot get over the idea that pleasures are only of the senses; but, child, a man who dies for his country dies because he likes it as surely as a man eats pickled cabbage because he likes it. It is a law of creation. If it were possible for men to prefer pain to pleasure the human race would have long since become extinct.”
“But if all that is true,” cried Philip, “what is the use of anything? If you take away duty and goodness and beauty, why are we brought into the world?”
“Here comes the gorgeous East to suggest an answer,” smiled Cronshaw.
He pointed to two persons who at that moment opened the door of the café, and, with a blast of cold air, entered. They were Levantines, itinerant vendors of cheap rugs, and each bore on his arm a bundle. It was Sunday evening, and the café was very full. They passed among the tables, and in that atmosphere heavy and discolored with tobacco smoke, rank with humanity, they seemed to bring an air of mystery. They were clad in European, shabby clothes, their thin great-coats were threadbare, but each wore a tarboosh. Their faces were gray with cold. One was of middle age, with a black beard, but the other was a youth of eighteen, with a face deeply scarred by smallpox and with one eye only. They passed by Cronshaw and Philip.
“Allah is great, and Mahomet is his prophet,” said Cronshaw impressively.
The elder advanced with a cringing smile, like a mongrel used to blows. With a sidelong glance at the door and a quick surreptitious movement he showed a pornographic picture.
“Are you Masr-ed-Deen, the merchant of Alexandria, or is it from far Bagdad that you bring your goods, O, my uncle; and yonder one-eyed youth, do I see in him one of the three kings of whom Scheherazade told stories to her lord?”
The pedlar’s smile grew more ingratiating, though he understood no word of what Cronshaw said, and like a conjurer he produced a sandal-wood box.
“Nay, show us the priceless web of Eastern looms,” quoth Cronshaw. “For I would point a moral and adorn a tale.”
The Levantine unfolded a tablecloth, red and yellow, vulgar, hideous and grotesque.
“Thirty-five francs,” he said.
“O, my uncle, this cloth knew not the weavers of Samarkand, and those colors were never made in the vasts of Bokhara.”
“Twenty-five francs,” smiled the pedlar obsequiously.
“Ultima Thule was the place of its manufacture, even Birmingham, the place of my birth. ”
“Fifteen francs,” cringed the bearded man.
“Get thee gone, fellow,” said Cronshaw. “May wild asses defile the grave of thy maternal grandmother.”
Imperturbably, but smiling no more, the Levantine passed with his wares to another table. Cronshaw turned to Philip.
“Have you ever been to the Cluny, the museum? There you will see Persian carpets of the most exquisite hue and of a pattern the beautiful intricacy of which delights and amazes the eye. In them you will see the mystery and the sensual beauty of the East, the roses of Hafiz and the wine-cup of Omar; but presently you will see more. You were asking just now what was the meaning of life. Go and look at those Persian carpets, and one of these days the answer will come to you.”
“You are cryptic,” said Philip.
“I am drunk,” answered Cronshaw.
XLVI
Philip did not find living in Paris as cheap as he had been led to believe and by February had spent most of the money with which he started. He was too proud to appeal to his guardian, nor did he wish Aunt Louisa to know that his circumstances were straitened, since he was certain she would make an effort to send him something from her own pocket, and he knew how little she could afford to. In three months he would attain his majority and come into possession of his small fortune. He tided over the interval by selling the few trinkets which he had inherited from his father.