THE ARTIST OF THE BEAUTIFUL1

追求至美的艺术家

An elderly man, with his pretty daughter on his arm, was passing along the street, and emerged from the gloom of the cloudy evening into the light that fell across the pavement from the window of a small shop. It was a projecting window; and on the inside were suspended a variety of watches, pinchbeck, silver, and one or two of gold, all with their faces turned from the streets, as if churlishly disinclined to inform the wayfarers what o'clock it was. Seated within the shop, sidelong to the window with his pale face bent earnestly over some delicate piece of mechanism on which was thrown the concentrated lustre of a shade lamp, appeared a young man.

一位上了年纪的老人，挽着他漂亮的女儿，沿街走来。从这黄昏的苍茫暮色中，父女俩踏入一片光明，这光亮是由马路对面一家小店的橱窗玻璃反射过来的。这是一个向外伸展的橱窗，里面悬挂着各式各样的钟表，铜质仿金的，银质的，也有一两只金质的，所有表面都背对着大街，似乎它们脾气不佳，不愿把当前时间告知行人。小店内，一个脸色苍白的年轻人坐在橱窗旁，在台灯灯罩聚集的光线下，正低着头全神贯注地摆弄着一个精致的机械装置。

"What can Owen Warland be about? " muttered old Peter Hovenden, himself a retired watchmaker, and the former master of this same young man whose occupation he was now wondering at. "What can the fellow be about? These six months past I have never come by his shop without seeing him just as steadily at work as now. It would be a flight beyond his usual foolery to seek for the perpetual motion; and yet I know enough of my old business to be certain that what he is now so busy with is no part of the machinery of a watch. "

“欧文·沃兰德在忙活什么呢？” 老彼得·霍文顿嘀咕道。他本人就是位已退休的钟表匠，也是这位年轻人从前的师傅，他纳闷徒弟在干什么。 “这小子到底在折腾什么？这六个月来，只要我路过他的小店，就会发现他就像现在一样全神贯注地忙活着。这相比他平日里研究永动机的愚蠢行为倒是一大进步；不过，以我对这一行的充足经验来看，我敢肯定他手头摆弄的这玩意绝不是什么钟表的机械零件。”

"Perhaps, father, " said Annie, without showing much interest in the question, "Owen is inventing a new kind of timekeeper. I am sure he has ingenuity enough. "

“父亲，” 安妮应声道，对于这个问题她没多大兴趣， “也许欧文正在发明一种新的计时器呢。我相信他有足够的天分。”

"Poh, child! He has not the sort of ingenuity to invent anything better than a Dutch toy, " answered her father, who had formerly been put to much vexation by Owen Warland's irregular genius. "A plague on such ingenuity! All the effect that ever I knew of it was to spoil the accuracy of some of the best watches in my shop. He would turn the sun out of its orbit and derange the whole course of time, if, as I said before, his ingenuity could grasp anything bigger than a child's toy! "

“哼，得了吧，孩子！就他那点儿天分，顶多也就能发明个荷兰玩具，” 她父亲答道，以前他就一直为欧文·沃兰德那种不合常规的天分而伤透脑筋， “这样的天分简直就是灾难！就我所知，这种天分的所有后果就是他糟蹋了我铺子里的几块最好的钟表，弄得它们都走不准了。我之前就说过，要是他那聪明劲儿能用在比小孩的玩具更大一点儿的东西上，他早就能使太阳脱离轨道，打乱时间的整个进程了！”

"Hush, father! He hears you! " whispered Annie, pressing the old man's arm. "His ears are as delicate as his feelings; and you know how easily disturbed they are. Do let us move on. "

“嘘，小声点儿，父亲！他听见了！” 安妮按了按老人的胳膊，小声示意道， “他的耳朵就如同他的感情那样脆弱，您也知道它们多么容易受伤。我们还是走吧。”

So Peter Hovenden and his daughter Annie plodded on without further conversation, until in a by—street of the town they found themselves passing the open door of a blacksmith's shop. Within was seen the forge, now blazing up and illuminating the high and dusky roof, and now confining its lustre to a narrow precinct of the coal—strewn floor, according as the breath of the bellows was puffed forth or again inhaled into its vast leathern lungs. In the intervals of brightness it was easy to distinguish objects in remote corners of the shop and the horseshoes that hung upon the wall; in the momentary gloom the fire seemed to be glimmering amidst the vagueness of unenclosed space. Moving about in this red glare and alternate dusk was the figure of the blacksmith, well worthy to be viewed in so picturesque an aspect of light and shade, where the bright blaze struggled with the black night, as if each would have snatched his comely strength from the other. Anon he drew a white—hot bar of iron from the coals, laid it on the anvil, uplifted his arm of might, and was soon enveloped in the myriads of sparks which the strokes of his hammer scattered into the surrounding gloom.

于是彼得·霍文顿和女儿安妮没有多谈什么，慢慢走开了，一直来到城里的一条小街上，不知不觉来到一家门还敞开着的铁匠铺前。只见铺子里头有座熔铁炉，随着风箱中的空气通过巨大的皮囊在炉膛里进进出出，时而火光闪闪，照亮又高又黑的屋顶，时而偃旗息鼓，只能照亮满是煤炭的地面上狭长的一条。当火光亮起来的时候，很容易看到铺子里各个角落里的物品和墙上挂着的马蹄铁；当火光暗淡下去的间隙，只剩下一点儿微光摇曳在敞开的模糊空间中。在这片火光与昏暗交替出现的空间中晃动的身影正是铁匠本人，忽明忽暗，生动优美，着实值得一看。火光和黑夜在他身上角逐，似乎彼此都想从对方那里攫取他身上的英武之气。不一会儿，他从煤炭中抽出一根白热的铁条，放在铁砧上，挥起他力大无比的胳膊，用铁锤一下下敲打起来，黑暗中，顷刻间火花四溅，铁匠整个人裹在其中。

"Now, that is a pleasant sight, " said the old watchmaker. "I know what it is to work in gold; but give me the worker in iron after all is said and done. He spends his labor upon a reality. What say you, daughter Annie? "

“瞧，多好看啊，” 老钟表匠说道， “我知道钟表匠这一行当，但说到底，还不如当个铁匠。他把力气都花在了实实在在的东西上。你说呢，我的女儿安妮？”

"Pray don't speak so loud, father, " whispered Annie, "Robert Danforth will hear you. "

“求求您别说这么大声，父亲，” 安妮悄声说道， “罗伯特·丹福思会听到的。”

"And what if he should hear me? " said Peter Hovenden. "I say again, it is a good and a wholesome thing to depend upon main strength and reality, and to earn one's bread with the bare and brawny arm of a blacksmith. A watchmaker gets his brain puzzled by his wheels within a wheel, or loses his health or the nicety of his eyesight, as was my case, and finds himself at middle age, or a little after, past labor at his own trade and fit for nothing else, yet too poor to live at his ease. So I say once again, give me main strength for my money. And then, how it takes the nonsense out of a man! Did you ever hear of a blacksmith being such a fool as Owen Warland yonder? "

“就算听到了又怎么样？” 彼得·霍文顿说， “我再说一遍，靠自己的力气和实实在在的工作，靠铁匠粗壮有力的光膀子挣饭吃，这可是一件有益健康的好事。但是钟表匠呢，整天被大齿轮套小齿轮弄得晕头转向，要么搞垮了身体，要么损坏了视力，就跟我过去一样，人到中年或刚过中年就发现过去的活计干不下去了，与此同时，其他的活又不适合，结果穷得过不上舒心的日子。所以我再说一遍，要挣钱还得要力气大。而且，有了力气就不会使一个人胡思乱想！你听说过有哪个铁匠像那边的欧文·沃兰德那样傻里傻气的吗？”

"Well said, uncle Hovenden! " shouted Robert Danforth from the forge, in a full, deep, merry voice, that made the roof re—echo. "And what says Miss Annie to that doctrine? She, I suppose, will think it a genteeler business to tinker up a lady's watch than to forge a horseshoe or make a gridiron. "

“说得好，霍文顿叔叔！” 罗伯特·丹福思从熔铁炉旁大声喊道，嗓音饱满、低沉且十分快活，把屋顶震得直响， “那安妮小姐对这个观点怎么看呢？她呀，我猜，肯定认为比起打马蹄铁或做烤肉架，修修小姐们的手表这类活儿要体面多了。”

Annie drew her father onward without giving him time for reply.

安妮没等她父亲回话，赶紧拽着他向前走。

But we must return to Owen Warland's shop, and spend more meditation upon his history and character than either Peter Hovenden, or probably his daughter Annie, or Owen's old school—fellow, Robert Danforth, would have thought due to so slight a subject. From the time that his little fingers could grasp a penknife, Owen had been remarkable for a delicate ingenuity, which sometimes produced pretty shapes in wood, principally figures of flowers and birds, and sometimes seemed to aim at the hidden mysteries of mechanism. But it was always for purposes of grace, and never with any mockery of the useful. He did not, like the crowd of school—boy artisans, construct little windmills on the angle of a barn or watermills across the neighboring brook. Those who discovered such peculiarity in the boy as to think it worth their while to observe him closely, sometimes saw reason to suppose that he was attempting to imitate the beautiful movements of Nature as exemplified in the flight of birds or the activity of little animals. It seemed, in fact, a new development of the love of the beautiful, such as might have made him a poet, a painter, or a sculptor, and which was as completely refined from all utilitarian coarseness as it could have been in either of the fine arts. He looked with singular distaste at the stiff and regular processes of ordinary machinery. Being once carried to see a steam—engine, in the expectation that his intuitive comprehension of mechanical principles would be gratified, he turned pale and grew sick, as if something monstrous and unnatural had been presented to him. This horror was partly owing to the size and terrible energy of the iron laborer; for the character of Owen's mind was microscopic, and tended naturally to the minute, in accordance with his diminutive frame and the marvellous smallness and delicate power of his fingers. Not that his sense of beauty was thereby diminished into a sense of prettiness. The beautiful idea has no relation to size, and may be as perfectly developed in a space too minute for any but microscopic investigation as within the ample verge that is measured by the arc of the rainbow. But, at all events, this characteristic minuteness in his objects and accomplishments made the world even more incapable than it might otherwise have been of appreciating Owen Warland's genius. The boy's relatives saw nothing better to be done—as perhaps there was not—than to bind him apprentice to a watchmaker, hoping that his strange ingenuity might thus be regulated and put to utilitarian purposes.

不过我们还得回到欧文·沃兰德的店铺，好好琢磨一番他的经历和性格，尽管彼得·霍文顿，或其女儿安妮，又或者欧文的老同学罗伯特·丹福思可能都觉得这些不值一提。从他那小小的手指能握住一把小折刀时起，欧文就已表现出一种非凡的精巧灵动。有时他会用木头做出一些漂亮的玩意，主要是一些花儿鸟儿，有时又似乎致力于对机械奥秘的探究。不过，他做这些都是基于美观的目的，而从来都没有做出任何实用的东西。他并不像学校里的那些小能手们，在谷仓的屋角上装些小风车或是在附近的小溪上架些水磨。那些发现这个小男孩的这种怪癖的人们，认为值得仔细观察他一番，有时还真能看出点儿缘由来，他好像在尝试着去模仿大自然中的美丽动作，譬如鸟儿的飞翔或小动物的活动。事实上，这似乎是爱美之心的一种新的发展，这发展可能会使他成为一位诗人、画家或雕塑家；而且，它至善至美，毫无功利主义的半点儿粗俗，存在于所有精美艺术之中。他看起来特别厌恶普通机械的这种刻板僵化的运动过程。曾经有人带他去看过一次蒸汽机，本以为会满足他对机械原理的直觉性理解力，结果却看到他脸色发白、恶心不适，好像眼前是什么丑陋且不自然的东西一般。这种恐惧的部分原因是由于这个铁家伙庞大的体积和惊人的能量吓到了他，因为欧文心思细腻，自然而然地专注于一些纤小细微的东西，这与他矮小的体型和纤细灵活的手指完全一致。他对美的感受倒不是因此而降低为对美丽小巧东西的偏爱。美的概念与事物的大小无关，无论是小到只能进行微观细查的极小空间还是大到唯有彩虹的弧形才能丈量的广阔草地，美都能完美显现。但无论如何，他关注的目标和造诣一贯都是这么细致入微，这使得本可能赏识欧文·沃兰德天才的人们反而更加不会鉴别了。男孩的家人们无计可施——也许是万般无奈——只好逼着他去做了钟表匠的学徒，巴望着他这种奇怪的天分能因此得到调教从而用在比较实用的正事上。

Peter Hovenden's opinion of his apprentice has already been expressed. He could make nothing of the lad. Owen's apprehension of the professional mysteries, it is true, was inconceivably quick; but he altogether forgot or despised the grand object of a watchmaker's business, and cared no more for the measurement of time than if it had been merged into eternity. So long, however, as he remained under his old master's care, Owen's lack of sturdiness made it possible, by strict injunctions and sharp oversight, to restrain his creative eccentricity within bounds; but when his apprenticeship was served out, and he had taken the little shop which Peter Hovenden's failing eyesight compelled him to relinquish, then did people recognize how unfit a person was Owen Warland to lead old blind Father Time along his daily course. One of his most rational projects was to connect a musical operation with the machinery of his watches, so that all the harsh dissonances of life might be rendered tuneful, and each flitting moment fall into the abyss of the past in golden drops of harmony. If a family clock was intrusted to him for repair, —one of those tall, ancient clocks that have grown nearly allied to human nature by measuring out the lifetime of many generations, —he would take upon himself to arrange a dance or funeral procession of figures across its venerable face, representing twelve mirthful or melancholy hours. Several freaks of this kind quite destroyed the young watchmaker's credit with that steady and matter—of—fact class of people who hold the opinion that time is not to be trifled with, whether considered as the medium of advancement and prosperity in this world or preparation for the next. His custom rapidly diminished—a misfortune, however, that was probably reckoned among his better accidents by Owen Warland, who was becoming more and more absorbed in a secret occupation which drew all his science and manual dexterity into itself, and likewise gave full employment to the characteristic tendencies of his genius. This pursuit had already consumed many months.

彼得·霍文顿对于他的这位徒弟的看法前面已经提到过。他对这小伙子已无能为力了。的确，欧文对这行当的诀窍接受起来快得令人难以置信，但是他完全忘记了或者根本就蔑视钟表这一行当的重要目的，对计时漠不关心，就好像时间已成为永恒。然而，只要他处在师傅的管教之下，欧文也不是那种强硬的人，这就使得他这种富有创造力的古怪脾性在师傅的严格命令和严密监视下并没有出格；可是当他学徒期满，接手了因彼得·霍文顿视力衰弱而不得不放弃的小店时，人们发现由欧文·沃兰德引领又老又瞎的时光老人沿着日常轨迹前行是多么不合适。他所做的最明智的研究之一，就是在他那些钟表上都加了一个音乐装置，于是生活中所有不和谐的噪音都变成了美妙的旋律，每一瞬间也犹如金光璀璨的露珠，和谐悦耳地落入往昔的深渊。若是哪家把座钟搬来让他修理——就是那种古老高大的座钟，因为记录了许多代人的生命时光而似乎通了人性——他就会自作主张地在那古老庄重的钟面装上一队跳舞或送葬的小人，以此代表十二个快乐或忧伤的时刻。这种怪异之举不出几次就彻底毁了这位年轻钟表匠的名声，因为镇上那些循规蹈矩、讲求实效的人们认为，对待时光可是怠慢不得的，无论它是作为现世荣华富贵的手段还是作为来生的准备。不久，小店的顾客越来越少——真是不幸，可欧文·沃兰德却把这事当作意外的好运，因为近来他越来越沉迷于一件神秘的工作，此事吸引了他全部的专业知识和灵巧技艺，同时也充分展现了他那独特的天赋。这项爱好已使他耗费了数月时光。

After the old watchmaker and his pretty daughter had gazed at him out of the obscurity of the street, Owen Warland was seized with a fluttering of the nerves, which made his hand tremble too violently to proceed with such delicate labor as he was now engaged upon.

当老钟表匠和他漂亮的女儿从街道的昏暗之处注视着他时，欧文·沃兰德突然神经紧张，心怦怦直跳，手也抖得厉害而无法继续手头正忙活着的细致活儿。

"It was Annie herself! " murmured he. "I should have known it, by this throbbing of my heart, before I heard her father's voice. Ah, how it throbs! I shall scarcely be able to work again on this exquisite mechanism to—night. Annie! dearest Annie! thou shouldst give firmness to my heart and hand, and not shake them thus; for if I strive to put the very spirit of beauty into form and give it motion, it is for thy sake alone. O throbbing heart, be quiet! If my labor be thus thwarted, there will come vague and unsatisfied dreams which will leave me spiritless tomorrow. "

“是安妮！” 他喃喃自语， “在听到她父亲的声音之前，因这颗怦怦跳动的心，我早该知道是她。哎呀，跳得真快啊！今晚我算是没法再干这精工细活了！安妮！最亲爱的安妮！你应当使我的心坚定下来，让我的手沉稳下来，不要动摇它们；因为我力争将美的精神付诸于有形的东西并使它动起来，要知道，这一切全都是为了你啊！啊，跳动的心，安静些吧！要是我这活儿因此受挫，晚上睡觉时就会出现一些模糊不清且令人不快的梦境，这样会使我明天一整天无精打采的。”

As he was endeavoring to settle himself again to his task, the shop door opened and gave admittance to no other than the stalwart figure which Peter Hovenden had paused to admire, as seen amid the light and shadow of the blacksmith's shop. Robert Danforth had brought a little anvil of his own manufacture, and peculiarly constructed, which the young artist had recently bespoken. Owen examined the article and pronounced it fashioned according to his wish.

正当他竭力使自己重新专注于手头的活儿时，店门开了，进来的不是别人，正是彼得·霍文顿之前驻足欣赏的那位铁匠铺里明暗交织中的强健身影。罗伯特·丹福思带来了一块自制的小砧板，是按照年轻的艺术家的要求专门定做的。欧文细细地查看着这件物品，并大加赞赏说正合他意。

"Why, yes, " said Robert Danforth, his strong voice filling the shop as with the sound of a bass viol, "I consider myself equal to anything in the way of my own trade; though I should have made but a poor figure at yours with such a fist as this, " added he, laughing, as he laid his vast hand beside the delicate one of Owen. "But what then? I put more main strength into one blow of my sledge hammer than all that you have expended since you were a 'prentice. Is not that the truth? "

“嗯，那当然了，” 罗伯特·丹福思洪亮的嗓音犹如一把低音提琴响彻整个小店， “我自认为，就我这一行当，没什么我干不了的活；不过，就我这拳头，要是干你那活，可就不行了，” 他边说边笑，还把他的大手掌伸到欧文纤细的小手旁， “可是那又怎么样呢？你从学徒时起到现在所花费的所有力气，加起来也没有我一锤打下去的力量大。这话不假吧？”

"Very probably, " answered the low and slender voice of Owen. "Strength is an earthly monster. I make no pretensions to it. My force, whatever there may be of it, is altogether spiritual. "

“很有可能，” 欧文的声音低沉微弱， “力量是一个世俗的怪物。我不敢自夸。我的力量，不管到底是什么，都完全是精神上的。”

"Well, but, Owen, what are you about? " asked his old school—fellow, still in such a hearty volume of tone that it made the artist shrink, especially as the question related to a subject so sacred as the absorbing dream of his imagination. "Folks do say that you are trying to discover the perpetual motion. "

“好啦，欧文，你到底在干什么？” 他的老同学问道，声音大得使艺术家畏缩了一下，尤其是因为这个问题事关他脑海中的一个如此神圣的梦想， “镇上的人们都说你正在尝试着研制永动机。”

"The perpetual motion? Nonsense! " replied Owen Warland, with a movement of disgust; for he was full of little petulances. "It can never be discovered. It is a dream that may delude men whose brains are mystified with matter, but not me. Besides, if such a discovery were possible, it would not be worth my while to make it only to have the secret turned to such purposes as are now effected by steam and water power. I am not ambitious to be honored with the paternity of a new kind of cotton machine. "

“永动机？胡说！” 欧文·沃兰德答道，说着还做了一个厌恶的手势，因为他十分恼火， “这种东西永远不可能找到。这只是个白日梦，骗骗那些被物质迷了心窍的人们还凑合，我绝不会上当。再说了，就算是真能发现这装置，还不就是用于像现在的蒸汽和水力一样的目的，我才不会去为这个东西费神劳力呢。对于发明什么新型轧棉机这样的荣誉，我可没这种念头。”

"That would be droll enough! " cried the blacksmith, breaking out into such an uproar of laughter that Owen himself and the bell glasses on his work—board quivered in unison. "No, no, Owen! No child of yours will have iron joints and sinews. Well, I won't hinder you any more. Good night, Owen, and success, and if you need any assistance, so far as a downright blow of hammer upon anvil will answer the purpose, I 'm your man. "

“那就太离奇可笑了吧！” 这位铁匠叫道，并爆发出一阵大笑，这笑声震得欧文和他工作台上的钟表玻璃罩抖个不停， “不，不，欧文！你造的那些宝贝没有一个是有钢筋铁骨的。好啦，我就不再打扰你了。晚安，欧文，并祝你成功。若是有什么要帮忙的，只要是用锤子狠狠敲铁砧这样的力气活儿，尽管叫我。”

And with another laugh the man of main strength left the shop.

又发出一阵笑声后，这个力大无穷的男子离开了小店。

"How strange it is, " whispered Owen Warland to himself, leaning his head upon his hand, "that all my musings, my purposes, my passion for the beautiful, my consciousness of power to create it, —a finer, more ethereal power, of which this earthly giant can have no conception, —all, all, look so vain and idle whenever my path is crossed by Robert Danforth! He would drive me mad were I to meet him often. His hard, brute force darkens and confuses the spiritual element within me; but I, too, will be strong in my own way. I will not yield to him. "

“真奇怪，” 欧文·沃兰德手托着头，低声自语， “我所有的想法，所有的目标，所有对美的激情，所有创造美的感觉——一种更美好、更超凡的力量，当然这个庸俗的大块头是不会明白的——这一切的一切，每当遇到罗伯特·丹福思，就会变得如此徒劳无用！要是经常遇到他，会让我发疯的。他身上的这股蛮力使我内在的精神元素变得黯然失色和困惑不解；不过，我也会按自己的方式坚持下去的。我绝不会向他服输。”

He took from beneath a glass a piece of minute machinery, which he set in the condensed light of his lamp, and, looking intently at it through a magnifying glass, proceeded to operate with a delicate instrument of steel. In an instant, however, he fell back in his chair and clasped his hands, with a look of horror on his face that made its small features as impressive as those of a giant would have been.

他从玻璃罩下拿出一块极小的机械装置，把它放在台灯下光线最密集的地方，然后透过放大镜聚精会神地看着，接着用一件精密的钢制工具拨弄起来。然而，就那一瞬间，他往椅背上一靠，双手紧握，满脸恐惧，原本细致的五官变得如巨人般不同寻常。

"Heaven! What have I done? " exclaimed he. "The vapor, the influence of that brute force, —it has bewildered me and obscured my perception. I have made the very stroke—the fatal stroke—that I have dreaded from the first. It is all over—the toil of months, the object of my life. I am ruined! "