（外文电子版资料）Something.New.doc

Something New Clark Ashton Smith TELL me something new, she moaned, twisting in his arms on the sofa. Say or do something original--and Ill love you. Anything but the wheezy gags, the doddering compliments, the kisses that were stale before Antony passed them off on Cleopatra Alas, he said, there is nothing new in the world except the rose and gold and ivory of your perfect loveliness. And there is nothing original except my love for you. Old stuff, she sneered, moving away from him. They all say that. They ? he queried, jealously. The ones before you, of course, she replied, in a tone of languid reminiscence. It only took four lovers to convince me of the quotidian sameness of man. After that, I always knew what to expect. It was maddening: they came to remind me of so many cuckoo docks, with the eternal monotony of their advances, the punctuality of their compliments. I soon knew the whole repertory. As for kissing--each one began with my hands, and ended with my lips. There was one genius, though, who kissed me on the throat the first time. I might have taken him, if he had lived up to the promise of such a beginning. What shall I say? he queried, in despair. Shall I tell you that your eyes are the unwaning moons above the cypress-guarded lakes of dream- land? Shall I say that your hair is colored like the sunsets of Cocaigne ? She kicked off one of her slippers, with a little jerk of disgust. You arent the first poet that Ive had for a lover. One of them used to read me that sort of stuff by the hour. All about moons, and stars and sunsets, and rose-leaves and lotus-petals. Ah, he cried hopefully, gazing at the slipperless foot. Shall I stand on my head and kiss your tooty-wootsies ? She smiled briefly. That wouldnt be so bad. But youre not an acrobat, my dear. Youd fall over and break something--provided you didnt fall on me. Well, I give it up, he muttered, in a tone of hopeless resignation Ive done my darndest to please you for the past four months;