[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
studied subterfuges and never acts in the predictable fashion. If he hinted at a move-ment, it was only to
deceive; if he dextrously sketched a ges-ture in the air, he then behaved in a manner that contradicted the
displayed intention. He never attacked when his adversary was at the peak of his strength (he made a
show, instead, of friendship and respect for him), but only at the moment when the man appeared
helpless. Ferrante then led him to the prec-ipice with the air of one rushing to his aid.
He lied often but never pointlessly. He knew that to be believed he had to make everyone see that
sometimes he told the truth to his own disadvantage, and kept silent when the truth might win him praise.
On the other hand, he tried to gain the reputation of a man sincere with his inferiors, so that their words
would reach the ears of the powerful. He became convinced that to simulate with one s equals is a fault,
but not to simulate with one s superiors is foolhardiness.
Still he did not act too frankly, and in any case not always frankly, fearing that others would become
aware of his pat-terns and one day anticipate him. Nor did he exaggerate in his duplicity, lest it be
discovered a second time.
To become wise he trained himself to tolerate the foolish, and he surrounded himself with them. He was
not so impru-dent as to attribute to them all his errors, but when the stakes were high, he made sure that
beside him there was always a straw man (impelled by vain ambition to be seen always in front, while
Ferrante remained in the background), whom not Ferrante but others would then hold responsible for
any mis-deed. In short, he appeared to do everything that could re-dound to his credit, but arranged for
another hand to do whatever might earn him a grudge.
In displaying his own virtues (which we would better call diabolical talents) he knew that a half displayed
and a half barely glimpsed are worth more than a whole openly asserted. At times he made ostentation
consist of mute eloquence, in a heedless show of his own excellences, and he had the ability never to
reveal all of himself at once.
As his position gradually rose and he had to measure him-self against those of superior station, he
became very able in mimicking their gestures and their language, but he did so only before persons of
inferior condition whom he had to charm for some illicit end; with his betters he took care to make his
ignorance evident, while seeming to admire in them what he already knew.
He carried out every unsavory mission that his patrons entrusted to him, but only if the evil he did was
not of such dimensions as to inspire their revulsion; if they asked of him crimes too great, he refused, first
to prevent their thinking he might one day be capable of doing as much to them, and secondly (if the sin
cried to Heaven for vengeance) so as not to become the undesired witness of their remorse.
In public he openly manifested piety, but valued only be-trayed loyalty, tarnished virtue, self-love,
ingratitude, con-tempt of the sacred; he cursed God in his heart and believed the world to be the
offspring of chance, while he trusted in a fate prepared to shift its own course to favor those who knew
how to bend it to their own account.
To cheer his rare moments of repose, he had commerce only with married prostitutes, incontinent
widows, shameless maids. But this always in great moderation, as in his machi-nations, Ferrante
sometimes forewent an immediate reward if he felt attracted by another machination, for his villainy never
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
gave him respite.
He lived, in short, day by day, like a murderer in motion-less ambush behind an arras, where daggers
blades do not glint. He knew that the first rule of success was to await op-portunity, but he suffered
because opportunity seemed still far off.
This grim, stubborn ambition deprived him of all inner peace. As he believed Roberto had usurped the
place which was his by right, no success could appease him, and the only form that happiness and
well-being could assume in the eyes of his spirit was his brother s misfortune, and the day when he could
be its author. Hazy, embattled giants swarmed in his head, for him there was no sea or land or sky that
could afford him relief and calm. Everything that had offended him, ev-erything he desired was a source
of torment.
He never laughed if not in the tavern to urge drink on some unwitting accomplice. But in the secret of his
room he examined himself every day in the glass, to see if the way he moved revealed his impatience, if
his eye looked too insolent, if his head was inclined more than was proper, if it did not betray hesitation,
or if the wrinkles, too deep on his brow, did not make him seem envenomed.
When he interrupted these exercises and, weary, laid aside his masks late in the night, he saw himself as
he really was ah, and then Roberto could not refrain from murmuring some verses he had read a few
years earlier:
In those eyes where sadness dwells and death
Flaming light flares murky and bold scarlet,
Sidelong glances and averted eyes are comets;
The lashes, lamps, wrathful, proud and desperate
While thunder are the moans; and lightning, breath. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl akte20.pev.pl
studied subterfuges and never acts in the predictable fashion. If he hinted at a move-ment, it was only to
deceive; if he dextrously sketched a ges-ture in the air, he then behaved in a manner that contradicted the
displayed intention. He never attacked when his adversary was at the peak of his strength (he made a
show, instead, of friendship and respect for him), but only at the moment when the man appeared
helpless. Ferrante then led him to the prec-ipice with the air of one rushing to his aid.
He lied often but never pointlessly. He knew that to be believed he had to make everyone see that
sometimes he told the truth to his own disadvantage, and kept silent when the truth might win him praise.
On the other hand, he tried to gain the reputation of a man sincere with his inferiors, so that their words
would reach the ears of the powerful. He became convinced that to simulate with one s equals is a fault,
but not to simulate with one s superiors is foolhardiness.
Still he did not act too frankly, and in any case not always frankly, fearing that others would become
aware of his pat-terns and one day anticipate him. Nor did he exaggerate in his duplicity, lest it be
discovered a second time.
To become wise he trained himself to tolerate the foolish, and he surrounded himself with them. He was
not so impru-dent as to attribute to them all his errors, but when the stakes were high, he made sure that
beside him there was always a straw man (impelled by vain ambition to be seen always in front, while
Ferrante remained in the background), whom not Ferrante but others would then hold responsible for
any mis-deed. In short, he appeared to do everything that could re-dound to his credit, but arranged for
another hand to do whatever might earn him a grudge.
In displaying his own virtues (which we would better call diabolical talents) he knew that a half displayed
and a half barely glimpsed are worth more than a whole openly asserted. At times he made ostentation
consist of mute eloquence, in a heedless show of his own excellences, and he had the ability never to
reveal all of himself at once.
As his position gradually rose and he had to measure him-self against those of superior station, he
became very able in mimicking their gestures and their language, but he did so only before persons of
inferior condition whom he had to charm for some illicit end; with his betters he took care to make his
ignorance evident, while seeming to admire in them what he already knew.
He carried out every unsavory mission that his patrons entrusted to him, but only if the evil he did was
not of such dimensions as to inspire their revulsion; if they asked of him crimes too great, he refused, first
to prevent their thinking he might one day be capable of doing as much to them, and secondly (if the sin
cried to Heaven for vengeance) so as not to become the undesired witness of their remorse.
In public he openly manifested piety, but valued only be-trayed loyalty, tarnished virtue, self-love,
ingratitude, con-tempt of the sacred; he cursed God in his heart and believed the world to be the
offspring of chance, while he trusted in a fate prepared to shift its own course to favor those who knew
how to bend it to their own account.
To cheer his rare moments of repose, he had commerce only with married prostitutes, incontinent
widows, shameless maids. But this always in great moderation, as in his machi-nations, Ferrante
sometimes forewent an immediate reward if he felt attracted by another machination, for his villainy never
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
gave him respite.
He lived, in short, day by day, like a murderer in motion-less ambush behind an arras, where daggers
blades do not glint. He knew that the first rule of success was to await op-portunity, but he suffered
because opportunity seemed still far off.
This grim, stubborn ambition deprived him of all inner peace. As he believed Roberto had usurped the
place which was his by right, no success could appease him, and the only form that happiness and
well-being could assume in the eyes of his spirit was his brother s misfortune, and the day when he could
be its author. Hazy, embattled giants swarmed in his head, for him there was no sea or land or sky that
could afford him relief and calm. Everything that had offended him, ev-erything he desired was a source
of torment.
He never laughed if not in the tavern to urge drink on some unwitting accomplice. But in the secret of his
room he examined himself every day in the glass, to see if the way he moved revealed his impatience, if
his eye looked too insolent, if his head was inclined more than was proper, if it did not betray hesitation,
or if the wrinkles, too deep on his brow, did not make him seem envenomed.
When he interrupted these exercises and, weary, laid aside his masks late in the night, he saw himself as
he really was ah, and then Roberto could not refrain from murmuring some verses he had read a few
years earlier:
In those eyes where sadness dwells and death
Flaming light flares murky and bold scarlet,
Sidelong glances and averted eyes are comets;
The lashes, lamps, wrathful, proud and desperate
While thunder are the moans; and lightning, breath. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]