Лорд Джим

Chapter 20

           Everystarisso—andeverybladeofgrassstandsso—andthemightyKosmosinperfectequilibriumproduces—this.Thiswonder;thismasterpieceofNature—thegreatartist.”

           ‘“Neverheardanentomologistgoonlikethis,”Iobservedcheerfully.“Masterpiece!Andwhatofman?’

           ‘“Manisamazing,butheisnotamasterpiece,”hesaid,keepinghiseyesfixedontheglasscase.“Perhapstheartistwasalittlemad.Eh?Whatdoyouthink?Sometimesitseemstomethatmaniscomewhereheisnotwanted,wherethereisnoplaceforhim;forifnot,whyshouldhewantalltheplace?Whyshouldherunabouthereandtheremakingagreatnoiseabouthimself,talkingaboutthestars,disturbingthebladesofgrass?...”

           ‘“Catchingbutterflies,”Ichimedin.

           ‘Hesmiled,threwhimselfbackinhischair,andstretchedhislegs.“Sitdown,”hesaid.“Icapturedthisrarespecimenmyselfoneveryfinemorning.AndIhadaverybigemotion.Youdon’tknowwhatitisforacollectortocapturesuchararespecimen.Youcan’tknow.”

           ‘Ismiledatmyeaseinarocking-chair.Hiseyesseemedtolookfarbeyondthewallatwhichtheystared;andhenarratedhow,onenight,amessengerarrivedfromhis“poorMohammed,”requiringhispresenceatthe“residenz”—ashecalledit—whichwasdistantsomenineortenmilesbyabridle-pathoveracultivatedplain,withpatchesofforesthereandthere.

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