但是，想到人类所谓的宏伟抱负到头来不过是虚幻一场，我不禁要嘲笑他们：如今这些英雄七零八落地挤在这尘土之中，想当初他们在世时，整个帝国都不曾让他们满足，而死后只是在这个吝啬的地方一个阴暗的角落，分得了一点点贫瘠的土地。过去，他们试图让人们永远铭记他们的名字，并世世代代瞻仰他们，如今人们却在他们的坟墓上想方设法地雕刻出各种形状和花纹——而这么做只是为了吸引游客们不?意瞥来的目光，免得人们过不了几年就把他们显赫一时的名字抛到脑后了。
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我仍然顺着这条路走过一座座坟墓、一所所礼拜堂。天色慢慢地暗了下来，从远处传来的游客的脚步声也越来越稀少了。动听的铃声提醒着人们晚祷的时间到了，我远远就能看见唱诗班的人们穿着白色的法衣穿过走廊纷纷就位。我站在亨利七世礼拜堂的入口处，走过大堂前的几层台阶，然后穿过一道昏暗却雄伟的长拱门。巨大的í门上雕满了精细华丽的花纹，门上的铰链发出沉重的响声，一副傲气十足的样子，似乎是不让这些凡夫俗子进入这最豪华的灵堂。
进入大堂内，里面华丽的建筑和精美的雕刻简直让人目不暇接。墙上每一个地方都布满了精巧的装饰，里面镶嵌着雕花窗格，拼成一座座壁龛，其中塞满了圣人和殉难者的雕像。炉火纯青的雕凿技术把石头雕刻得几乎看不出它本来的重量和密度，像被施了魔法似的吊在半空中。还有那屋顶，装饰着无比精巧美丽的花纹，好像是一张牢不可破的蛛网那样悬在半空中。
在礼拜堂的两侧，设有巴斯武士高大的坐席，它们全部用橡木雕凿得富贵华丽，上面还有哥特式建筑的怪异装饰。武士的头盔、绶带和佩剑被摆放在坐席的顶端。在这些物品的上方悬挂着武士的旗帜，上面装饰着纹章，这些金色、紫色和大红色耀眼夺目，与精雕细凿的灰暗屋顶形成鲜明的对比。在这个宏伟大厅的正中间，就是这座陵墓的主人——亨利七世的坟墓，他和皇后的雕像躺在一块豪华的墓石上，周围环绕着铸炼精细的黄í栅栏。
这种奢华瑰丽的气氛，却让人有种阴沉压抑的感觉：这是一个混合了坟墓和战利品的怪异场合，这些标志象征着朝气蓬勃和雄心壮志，如今却被摆放在满是灰尘和被人遗忘的纪念物中间，而所有的一切最终也会消逝在这些尘埃和遗忘之中。走在这个曾?热闹繁华而如今孤寂苍凉的地方，心中涌起一种无法言说的落寞感受。环视周围武士和他们的侍从们空空如也的座位，看着飘扬在他们面前的一排排布满了灰尘却依然锦绣华丽的军旗，我不禁想象昔日的盛况：全国上下的英雄和美人都云集在这宽敞明亮的大厅里，这里因为有了这些珠光宝气的仕女和英武的武士行列而è璨生辉；不绝于耳的脚步声和赞扬声在整个大厅回荡。而这一切突然就消失不见了，重新恢复到这死气沉沉的寂静，除了偶尔几声小鸟的鸣叫。连鸟儿都驻扎在这所礼拜堂，并把它们的巢穴建造在梁柱之间——由此可见，这里是多么的荒凉和寂寞。
我读着旗子上刺绣的人名，这些人曾?被派驻到各个地方，有的远渡重洋，有的征战他乡，有的在宫廷与内阁的阴谋中纠缠，但他们有个共同的愿望——使自己的名声在这所阴暗的墓堂中得到更多的表彰——也就是一块阴郁的纪念碑。
在礼拜堂的两侧设有小型的侧堂——这样做的目的是为了明示这座墓地的平等观念：它把压迫者和被压迫者放在同一个地位，让世代夙敌的遗骸相聚在一起。其中的一个侧堂是那位傲慢的伊丽莎白之墓，而另外一个则是那可爱又可怜的被她杀死了的玛丽之墓。对于后者，每一天里的每个时刻都会有人来悲怜叹息她凄惨的命运，在这声声叹息中也包含了对前者的愤?。于是，在伊丽莎白墓地周围的墙壁上，就?常回荡着人们同情玛丽的声音。
一种怪异阴郁的气氛笼罩在埋葬着玛丽的那个侧堂之上。阳光透过布满灰尘的窗户照射进来，一切都是这么幽暗，大部分地方都被黑暗的阴影笼罩着，岁月和气候在墙壁上留下了痕迹。一座玛丽的大理石雕像躺在碑石上面，四周的铁栅栏锈迹斑斑，上面还雕刻着她的国徽——苏格兰的蓟花。我已?走得有点儿累了，于是坐在纪念碑下歇息，脑海里便不由自主地想起玛丽坎坷不幸的一生。
教堂里零零落落的脚步声渐渐地消失了，我的耳边偶尔传来远处修士们的晚祷声和唱诗班轻柔的应答声。当所有这些声音都平息后，整个教堂也沉静下来。平静、荒凉和幽暗慢慢地靠近，使人们对这个地方产生了一种更加深邃和庄严的感情。
在寂静的墓地里没有说话的声音，
没有朋友们轻快的脚步声，没有情侣们呼唤的声音，
也没有细心的父亲忠诚的告诫——什么都听不到，
因为一切都是虚无，一切都被遗忘，
只有尘土和无际的黑暗。
夜宿松林
A Night Among the Pines
[英国]罗伯特·路易斯·史蒂文/Robert Louis Stevenson
A faint wind，more like a moving coolness than a stream of air, passed down the glade from time to time; so that even in my great chamber the air was being renewed all night long. I thought with horror of the inn at Chasserades and the congregated nightcaps; with horror of the nocturnal prowesses of clerks and students, of hot theatres and pass-keys and close rooms. I have not often enjoyed a more serene possession of myself, nor felt more independent of material aids. The outer world, from which we cower into our houses, seemed after all a gentle habitable place; and night after night a man' s bed, it seemed, was laid and waiting for him in the fields, where God keeps an open house. I thought I had rediscovered one of those truths which are revealed to savages and hid from political economists: at the least, I had discovered a new pleasure for myself. And yet even while I was exulting in my solitude I became aware of a strange lack. I wished a companion to lie near me in the starlight, silent and not moving, but ever within touch. For there is a fellowship more quiet even than solitude, and which, rightly understood, is solitude made perfect. And to live out of doors with the woman a man loves is of all lives the most complete and free.
As I thus lay, between content and longing, a faint noise stole towards me through the pines. I thought, at first, it was the crowing of cocks or the barking of dogs at some very distant farm; but steadily and gradually it took articulate shape in my ears, until I became aware that a passenger was going by upon the highroad in the valley, and singing loudly as he went. There was more of good-will than grace in his performance; but he trolled with ample lungs; and the sound of his voice took hold upon the hillside and set the air shaking in the leafy glens. I have heard people passing by night in sleeping cities; some of them sang; one, I remember, played loudly on the bagpipes. I have heard the rattle of a cart or carriage spring up suddenly after hours of stillness, and pass, for some minutes, within the range of my hearing as I lay abed. There is a romance about all who are abroad in the black hours, and with something of a thrill we try to guess their business. But here the romance was double: first, this glad passenger, lit internally with wine, who sent up his voice in music through the night; and then I, on the other hand, buckled into my sack, and smoking alone in the pine-woods between four and five thousand feet towards the stars.
偶尔穿过林中空地，一缕微风袭来，我感到这不像是一股气流，倒更像一阵流动的凉意。由于这流动的凉意，即便在我这么宽敞的卧室里，空气整晚也都不停地流动。一想起切斯雷德的那个小旅馆和睡帽云集的场景，我便感到恐惧；我还害怕职员和学生们夜间吵闹的威力，害怕那热气熏天的剧院，害怕万能钥匙和密集的客房。我很少自己待在这般安详静谧的环境中，也很少超脱于物欲世界之外。屋外的世界——尽管我们从野外钻回各自的家——最终却还像个温暖舒适的住处；上帝在旷野中维护着一间敞开的房屋，一夜又一夜，铺好了床，期待着人们的光临。我想自己又体会到了一个真理，一个野蛮人知道但不为政治?济学家所知的真理：至少我找到了一种新的自我娱乐。然而在我兴高采烈地享受寂寞独处的同时，又感到一种莫名其妙的缺憾。在这星空下，我希望有位伴侣陪伴在我身边，默然相对。要知道，有一种相随，比孤独还要来得平静，如果正确地理解，那就是孤独创造完美。在各种各样的生活方式中，最完整、最自由的生活就是与自己心爱的女人在野外生活。
