Скорбь сатаны

Chapter 38

           Luciohimselftoowouldoftensing—hislusciousvoiceresounding,asitseemed,overallthevisibleseaandsky,withsuchpassionasmighthavedrawnanangeldowntolisten.Graduallymymindbecameimpregnatedwiththesesnatchesofmournful,fierce,orweirdminortunes—andIbegantosufferinsilencefromaninexplicabledepressionandforebodingsenseofmisery,aswellasfromanotherterriblefeelingtowhichIcouldscarcelygiveaname—adreadfuluncertaintyofmyself,asofonelostinawildernessandabouttodie.Ienduredthesefitsofmentalagonyalone—andinsuchdrearyburningmoments,believedIwasgoingmad.Igrewmoreandmoresullenandtaciturn,andwhenweatlastarrivedatAlexandriaIwasnotmovedtoanyparticularpleasure.Theplacewasnewtome,butIwasnotconsciousofnovelty—everythingseemedflat,dull,andtotallyuninteresting.Aheavyalmostlethargicstuporchainedmywits,andwhenwelefttheyachtinharbourandwentontoCairo,Iwasnotsensibleofanypersonalenjoymentinthejourney,orinterestinwhatIsaw.Iwasonlypartiallyrousedwhenwetookpossessionofaluxuriousdahabeah,which,witharetinueofattendants,hadbeenspeciallycharteredforus,andcommencedourlotus-likevoyageuptheNile.Thereed-edged,sluggishyellowriverfascinatedme—Iusedtospendlonghoursrecliningatfulllengthinadeck-chair,gazingattheflatshores,theblownsand-heaps,thebrokencolumnsandmutilatedtemplesofthedeadkingdomsofthepast.

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