Coming down the steps of 'Snooks' Club, so nicknamed by George Forsyte in the late eighties, on that momentous mid-October afternoon of 1922, Sir Lawrence Mont, ninth baronet, set his fine nose towards the east wind, and moved his thin legs with speed. Political by birth rather than by nature, he reviewed the revolution which had restored his Party to power with a detachment not devoid of humour. Passing the Remove Club, he thought: 'Some sweating into shoes, there! No more confectioned dishes. A woodcock—without trimmings, for a change!'

1922年10月中旬的那个重要的下午，第九代准男爵劳伦斯·蒙特爵士迎着东风翘着俊美的鼻子，迈着两条细腿疾步走下“轻蔑”俱乐部的台阶——俱乐部这一绰号出自上世纪80年代末乔治·福赛特之口。他虽出生于政治世家，却对政治不感兴趣，提起他所在的政党重夺政权的那次革命，他只是轻描淡写。路过利姆夫俱乐部时，他想：“这次麻烦啦！再也没有甜点可吃啦。山鹬没有了配料，得变口味喽！”

The captains and the kings had departed from 'Snooks' before he entered it, for he was not of 'that catch-penny crew, now paid off, no sir; fellows who turned their tails on the land the moment the war was over. Pah!' But for an hour he had listened to echoes, and his lively twisting mind, embedded in deposits of the past, sceptical of the present and of all political protestations and pronouncements, had recorded with amusement the confusion of patriotism and personalities left behind by the fateful gathering. Like most landowners, he distrusted doctrine. If he had a political belief, it was a tax on wheat; and so far as he could see, he was now alone in it—but then he was not seeking election; in other words, his principle was not in danger of extinction from the votes of those who had to pay for bread. Principles—he mused—au fond were pocket; and he wished the deuce people wouldn't pretend they weren't! Pocket, in the deep sense of that word, of course, self-interest as member of a definite community. And how the devil was this definite community, the English nation, to exist, when all its land was going out of cultivation, and all its ships and docks in danger of destruction by aeroplanes? He had listened that hour past for a single mention of the land. Not one! It was not practical politics! Confound the fellows! They had to wear their breeches out—keeping seats or getting them. No connection between posteriors and posterity! No, by George! Thus reminded of posterity, it occurred to him rather suddenly that his son's wife showed no signs as yet. Two years! Time they were thinking about children. It was dangerous to get into the habit of not having them, when a title and estate depended. A smile twisted his lips and eyebrows which resembled spinneys of dark pothooks. A pretty young creature, most taking; and knew it, too! Whom was she not getting to know? Lions and tigers, monkeys and cats—her house was becoming quite a menagerie of more or less celebrities. There was a certain unreality about that sort of thing! And opposite a British lion in Trafalgar Square Sir Lawrence thought: 'She'll be getting these to her house next! She's got the collecting habit. Michael must look out—in a collector's house there's always a lumber room for old junk, and husbands are liable to get into it. That reminds me: I promised her a Chinese Minister. Well, she must wait now till after the General Election.'

在他进入“轻蔑”俱乐部之前，那些大老板和王公贵族们早已离开，因为他并不属于“想方设法捞钱，而且已经捞个够本的那帮家伙，他绝不是那种人——那帮家伙在战争刚刚结束时就丢弃家园逃之夭夭了。呸！”可是对过去忘事的回忆，他足足听了一个小时。他的大脑活跃地转动着，牢记往事，怀疑当下，也怀疑一切政治主张和声明。他饶有兴致地记录了这次意义重大的集会上所留下的爱国主义和个体攻击的混乱。和大部分地主一样，他不相信教条。如果非要说他有政治信仰的话，那就是征收小麦税了，并且就他所知，他势单力薄——但是，对他来说，选票不重要；换句话说，平民百姓的选票威胁不到他笃信的原则。原则——他沉思着——就是钱罢了。他真希望人们不要再装作不承认这一点了！当然，从深层含义来讲，钱无非就是特定社会群体成员的个人利益。而当它所有的土地都荒芜，所有的船只和港口都面临被飞机炸毁的危险时，这个特定社会群体——英国民族，倒是有什么办法生存下去啊？在一个小时的倾听中，他希望听到有人谈及土地。竟无一人谈及！这根本不是实用政治！这帮该死的家伙！他们不惜磨破了裤子——就为了保住席位或获得席位。丝毫没考虑过子孙后代！的确没有！说起后代，他突然想起自己的儿媳至今还没有一点点的喜照。两年了！该是要孩子的时候了。不要孩子如果成为一种习惯，对于那些有爵位或是需要产业继承人的家庭来说是相当可怕的。一丝微笑牵动了他的双唇和眉毛，那两道弯眉异常浓密。一个漂亮的小孩，非常可爱，而且她也深知这一点啊！有谁她不想去认识呢？狮子、老虎、猴子和猫——她的家成了这些大小名人的动物园了。这种事情总是有种不真实的感觉！劳伦斯爵士站在特拉法尔加广场上的一只不列颠之狮的对面，心里想：“下次她会把这些都弄到家里去！她染上收藏的嗜好了。迈克尔必须小心了——收藏家的家里肯定有一间专门放置破旧货的储藏室，而丈夫是很容易被关进去的。这倒提醒了我：我曾答应给她介绍一位中国公使。好吧，如今她得等到大选过后了。”

Down Whitehall, under the grey easterly sky, the towers of Westminster came for a second into view. A certain unreality in that, too,' he thought. Michael and his fads! Well, it's the fashion—Socialistic principles and a rich wife. Sacrifice with safety! Peace with plenty! Nostrums—ten a penny!'

沿着白厅大街往南走，在东方灰色的天空下，威斯敏斯特教堂的塔楼瞬间映入眼帘。“那里面似乎也有种不真实的东西，”他想，“迈克尔和他的狂热爱好！哦，这的确是一种时尚——社会主义的原则和一个富有的妻子。有所牺牲但又很安全！和平且富足！万能灵药——一便士十粒！

Passing the newspaper hubbub of Charing Cross, frenzied by the political crisis, he turned up to the left towards Danby and Winter, publishers, where his son was junior partner. A new theme for a book had just begun to bend a mind which had already produced a 'Life of Montrose,' 'Far Cathay,' that work of Eastern travel, and a fanciful conversation between the shades of Gladstone and Disraeli—entitled 'A Duet.' With every step taken, from 'Snooks' eastward, his erect thin figure in Astrakhan-collared coat, his thin grey-moustached face, and tortoise-shell rimmed monocle under the lively dark eyebrow, had seemed more rare. It became almost a phenomenon in this dingy back street, where carts stuck like winter flies, and persons went by with books under their arms, as if educated.

查林十字广场上买卖报纸的喧哗由于这次政治危机变得更加嘈杂。他穿过广场向左拐，朝丹比&温特出版社走去，他的儿子是那里的第二合伙人。他已经出版了《蒙特罗斯传》一书、一部东方游记《遥远的契丹》以及《二重唱》。《二重唱》是描述格莱斯顿和迪斯雷利两个幽灵之间的幻想谈话。如今他又开始专心筹备新书了。他身材挺拔细长，身着阿斯特拉罕皮领外衣，瘦削的脸上留着灰白胡子，生动的浓眉下架着玳瑁边的单片眼镜。他从“轻蔑”俱乐部出来往东走，每走一步，都显得更加与众不同。在这条肮脏的后街上，车辆犹如冬天里的苍蝇一般紧挨着，人们夹着书本穿梭其中，看上去似乎很有学问。像他这样的人出现在这样一个地方实属罕见。

He had nearly reached the door of Danby's when he encountered two young men. One of them was clearly his son, better dressed since his marriage, and smoking a cigar—thank goodness—instead of those eternal cigarettes; the other—ah! yes—Michael's sucking poet and best man, head in air, rather a sleek head under a velour hat! He said:

快到丹比出版社时，他遇到了两位年轻人。其中一位很明显是他的儿子。自从结婚后，他儿子的打扮比以前讲究一些了，这会儿正吸着一支雪茄——谢天谢地——吸的不是那种没完没了的烟卷；另一位——啊，没错——是迈克尔不成气候的诗人朋友和结婚时的男傧相，他头昂得高高的，活像个油头滑脑的家伙！他说道：

"Ha, Michael!"

“嗨，迈克尔！”

"HALLO, Bart! You know my governor, Wilfrid? Wilfrid Desert. Copper Coin'—some poet, Bart, I tell you. You must read him. We're going home. Come along!"

“你好，准爵爷！威尔弗里德，你认识我爸爸吧？这是威尔弗里德·德赛特。准爵爷，我告诉您，他是位伟大的诗人，也是《铜币》的作者。您一定要读读他的作品。我们准备回家了。一起走吧！”

Sir Lawrence went along.

劳伦斯爵士与他们同行。

"What happened at 'Snooks'?"

“‘轻蔑’俱乐部情况如何？”

"Le roi est mort. Labour can start lying, Michael—election next month."

“国王去世。工党可以开始编谎话了，迈克尔——下个月要进行大选了。”

"Bart was brought up, Wilfrid, in days that knew not Demos."

“威尔弗里德，准爵爷是在不了解民众的时代长大的。”

"Well, Mr. Desert, do you find reality in politics now?"

“哦，德赛特先生，您觉得如今的政治现实可行吗？”

"Do you find reality in anything, sir?"

“先生，您在哪些方面发现它现实可行呢？”

"In income tax, perhaps."

“或许是在所得税方面。”

Michael grinned.

迈克尔咧嘴笑了。

"Above knighthood," he said, "there's no such thing as simple faith."

“地位在爵士以上的人，”他说道，“单纯的信仰对他们而言根本不存在。”

"Suppose your friends came into power, Michael—in some ways not a bad thing, help 'em to grow up—what could they do, eh? Could they raise national taste? Abolish the cinema? Teach English people to cook? Prevent other countries from threatening war? Make us grow our own food? Stop the increase of town life? Would they hang dabblers in poison gas? Could they prevent flying in war-time? Could they weaken the possessive instinct—anywhere? Or do anything, in fact, but alter the incidence of possession a little? All party politics are top dressing. We're ruled by the inventors, and human nature; and we live in Queer Street, Mr. Desert."

“假设你的朋友掌权，迈克尔——在某些方面，这其实并不是一件坏事，帮助他们发展起来——他们又能干些什么呢？他们能提高国民的品位吗？能取缔电影吗？能教会英国人厨艺吗？能阻止其他国家发动战争吗？能帮我们种出我们自己吃的粮食吗？能控制城市人口增长吗？他们会用毒气杀死那些滥竽充数的人吗？他们能在战时把飞机打下来吗？无论在何处，他们能削弱人们占有欲强的本性吗？或者，除了稍微改变一点儿占有欲的问题，还能做点儿其他的什么吗？一切党派政治都善于浮华的装饰。我们受到制定规则的人和人性的支配，并且我们经济上陷入了困境，德赛特先生。”

"Much my sentiments, sir."

“我也深有同感，先生。”

Michael flourished his cigar.

迈克尔晃了晃他手中的雪茄。

"Bad old men, you two!"

“难缠的人啊，你们二位呀！”

And removing their hats, they passed the Cenotaph.

经过纪念碑时，他们都脱下帽子。

"Curiously symptomatic—that thing," said Sir Lawrence; "monument to the dread of swank—most characteristic. And the dread of swank—"

“非常有代表性——那个东西，”劳伦斯爵士说，“害怕出风头的纪念碑——这说法真准确。说到害怕出风头——”

"Go on, Bart," said Michael.

“准爵爷，说下去。”迈克尔说道。

"The fine, the large, the florid—all off! No far-sighted views, no big schemes, no great principles, no great religion, or great art—aestheticism in cliques and backwaters, small men in small hats."

“一切优雅、博大、华丽的事物——全都消失了！没有远见的卓识，没有宏伟的规划，没有高尚的原则，没有崇高的信仰，没有伟大的艺术——只有沉湎于小派系和穷乡僻壤里的唯美主义，和一些鼠目寸光的小人物而已。”

"As panteth the heart after Byron, Wilberforce, and the Nelson Monument. My poor old Bart! What about it, Wilfrid?"

“所以人心切慕拜伦、威尔伯福斯以及纳尔逊纪念碑。我可怜的准爵爷！威尔弗里德，你的看法呢？”

"Yes, Mr. Desert—what about it?"

“是啊，德赛特先生，你是怎么看的呢？”

Desert's dark face contracted.

德赛特皱了皱阴沉的脸。

"It's an age of paradox," he said. "We all kick up for freedom, and the only institutions gaining strength are Socialism and the Roman Catholic Church. We're frightfully self-conscious about art—and the only art development is the cinema. We're nuts on peace—and all we're doing about it is to perfect poison gas."

“这是个自相矛盾的时代。”他说，“我们都高喊着要自由，但只有社会主义和罗马天主教会真正受益。我们非常清楚艺术的重要性——而唯一有所发展的艺术却是电影。我们热爱和平——但我们实际为和平所做的却是造出了毒气。”

Sir Lawrence glanced sideways at a young man so bitter.

劳伦斯爵士挖苦地朝那个年轻人斜睨了一眼。

"And how's publishing, Michael?"

“迈克尔，出版社情况如何？”

"Well, 'Copper Coin' is selling like hot cakes; and there's quite a movement in 'A Duet.' What about this for a new ad.: 'A Duet, by Sir Lawrence Mont, Bart. The most distinguished Conversation ever held between the Dead.' That ought to get the psychic. Wilfrid suggested 'G.O.M. and Dizzy—broadcasted from Hell.' Which do you like best?"

“嗯，《铜币》正在热销，《二重唱》销量也很可观。像这样做个新广告如何：‘《二重唱》——作者：劳伦斯·蒙特爵士，准爵爷。两位逝者之间有史以来最杰出的对话。’这样肯定能够吸引通灵人士的注意。威尔弗里德建议使用‘老夫子和迪齐——来自地狱的广播’。您更喜欢哪一个呢？”

They had come, however, to a policeman holding up his hand against the nose of a van horse, so that everything marked time. The engines of the cars whirred idly, their drivers' faces set towards the space withheld from them; a girl on a bicycle looked vacantly about her, grasping the back of the van, where a youth sat sideways with his legs stretched out towards her. Sir Lawrence glanced again at young Desert. A thin, pale-dark face, good-looking, but a hitch in it, as if not properly timed; nothing outre in dress or manner, and yet socially at large; less vivacious than that lively rascal, his own son, but as anchorless, and more sceptical—might feel things pretty deeply, though! The policeman lowered his arm.

然而此时，他们走到了一位警察身边，警察正举手拦住一辆运货马车，因此所有车辆和行人都停止不前了。汽车的发动机轰轰作响，司机们面目呆滞，凝视着前方被封住的路；一个骑自行车的女孩茫然环顾四周，一手抓住那辆货车的尾部，一个青年侧坐在车上，两条腿直伸着对着她。劳伦斯爵士又朝年轻的德赛特瞥了一眼。一张消瘦、浅黑色的脸庞，外貌英俊，但似乎缺少点儿什么，显得有些美中不足；穿戴和举止还算得体，肯定在社交上游刃有余；不如他那个活泼的儿子那么有生气，但一样不安定，而且更多疑——不过他对事物的看法倒是相当深刻！警察放下了手臂。

"You were in the war, Mr. Desert?"

“你参过战吧，德赛特先生？”

"Oh, yes."

“是的。”

"Air service?"

“空军？”

"And line. Bit of both."

“也在陆军干过。两个都干过。”

"Hard on a poet."

“成为诗人很困难。”

"Not at all. Poetry's only possible when you may be blown up at any moment, or when you live in Putney."

“一点儿也不。你只有在随时有可能被炸死时，或者是住在帕特尼时，才写得出来诗。”

Sir Lawrence's eyebrow rose. "Yes?"

劳伦斯爵士的眉毛扬了扬。“您请讲？”

"Tennyson, Browning, Wordsworth, Swinburne—they could turn it out; ils vivaient, mais si peu."

“丁尼生、勃朗宁、华兹华斯、斯温伯恩——他们都能创造出诗歌，但他们却很少经历过你说的那两种生活。”

"Is there not a third condition favourable?"

“不是有第三种有利条件吗？”

"And that, sir?"

“是什么呢，先生？”

"How shall I express it—a certain cerebral agitation in connection with women?"

“怎么说呢——和女人息息相关的大脑的兴奋吧？”

Desert's face twitched, and seemed to darken.

德赛特的脸抽动了一下，似乎变得阴郁起来。

Michael put his latchkey into the lock of his front door.

迈克尔把钥匙插进他家前门的锁孔里。 3hXQ0RF++VrAlXd6K09QIdrIJsvChKDbIBjy8WlmnnMj7PVZTZnZzLUljHvzCqCF