THERE was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night I had passed the house (it was vacation time) and studied the lighted square of window: and night after night I had found it lighted in the same way, faintly and evenly. If he was dead, I thought, I would see the reflection of candles on the darkened blind for I knew that two candles must be set at the head of a corpse. He had often said to me: "I am not long for this world," and I had thought his words idle. Now I knew they were true. Every night as I gazed up at the window I said softly to myself the word paralysis. It had always sounded strangely in my ears, like the word gnomon in the Euclid and the word simony in the Catechism. But now it sounded to me like the name of some maleficent and sinful being. It filled me with fear, and yet I longed to be nearer to it and to look upon its deadly work.

对他而言，这一次是没有任何希望了：这是第三次中风了。一夜又一夜，我走过那所房子（时值假期），端详那灯光映照下的方窗框：一夜又一夜，我发现那窗框里都亮着同样的灯光，微弱而匀和。假如他死了，我想，我会在变暗的百叶窗上看到烛光的影子，因为我知道人们要在死者的头边放置两根蜡烛。他经常对我讲：“我将不久于人世了。”而我一直都认为他的话毫无意义。现在我才知道它们都是真的。每个夜晚，当我抬头注视着那扇窗时，我总会轻轻地对自己说“瘫痪”这个词。在我听来，它总是有些奇怪，就像欧几里得几何中“磬折形”一词以及教义问答手册里“买卖圣职罪”一词。然而现在在我听来它却像是某种作恶多端、罪行累累的生物的名字。它让我充满恐惧，可我又渴望能离它更近一些，以便去观察它完成那致命的工作。

Old Cotter was sitting at the fire, smoking, when I came downstairs to supper. While my aunt was ladling out my stirabout he said, as if returning to some former remark of his:

我下楼来吃晚饭的时候，老科特正坐在火炉边抽烟。姨妈给我盛麦片粥的时候，他仿佛是重拾先前的某个话头似的说道：

"No, I wouldn't say he was exactly... but there was something queer... there was something uncanny about him. I'll tell you my opinion...." He began to puff at his pipe, no doubt arranging his opinion in his mind. Tiresome old fool! When we knew him first he used to be rather interesting, talking of faints and worms; but I soon grew tired of him and his endless stories about the distillery.

“不，我不是说他就是……可是有些地方不对头……他有点古怪。我要告诉你们我的看法……”他开始猛吸烟斗，无疑是在整理自己脑子里的想法。讨厌的老傻瓜！我们刚认识他的时候，他还相当有趣，常常谈论劣质酒精和蜗杆；但是我很快就对他这个人以及他那些没完没了的关于酒厂的故事感到厌烦了。

"I have my own theory about it," he said. "I think it was one of those... peculiar cases.... But it's hard to say...."

“关于酿酒我有我自己的看法。”他说，“我认为它是那些……特殊情况之一……但是很难说……”

He began to puff again at his pipe without giving us his theory. My uncle saw me staring and said to me:

他又开始猛吸烟斗，却没有给我们讲他的看法。姨父看见我在凝神发呆，就对我说：

"Well, so your old friend is gone, you'll be sorry to hear."

“唉，你的老朋友去世了，你听了肯定很难过。”

"Who?" said I.

“谁？”我说。

"Father Flynn."

“弗林神父。”

"Is he dead?"

“他死了？”

"Mr. Cotter here has just told us. He was passing by the house."

“科特先生刚刚告诉我们的。他来时路过了那所房子。”

I knew that I was under observation so I continued eating as if the news had not interested me. My uncle explained to old Cotter.

我知道自己正处于众目睽睽之下，所以就继续吃饭，仿佛这个消息并没有激发我的兴趣。姨父向老科特解释道：

"The youngster and he were great friends. The old chap taught him a great deal, mind you; and they say he had a great wish for him."

“这个年轻人和他是很要好的朋友。要知道，那老家伙教给了他不少东西；人们说他对这孩子有很高的期望。”

"God have mercy on his soul," said my aunt piously.

“愿上帝怜悯他的灵魂。”姨妈虔诚地说。

Old Cotter looked at me for a while. I felt that his little beady black eyes were examining me but I would not satisfy him by looking up from my plate. He returned to his pipe and finally spat rudely into the grate.

老科特盯着我看了一会儿。我感觉到他那双亮闪闪的小黑眼睛在审视我，可我不愿让他得逞，所以并没有从盘子上抬起头来。他又开始抽他的烟斗，最后冲壁炉里粗鲁地吐了一口痰。

"I wouldn't like children of mine," he said, "to have too much to say to a man like that."

“我可不愿意让我的孩子们，”他说，“去和那样的一个人有太多的话可说。”

"How do you mean, Mr. Cotter?" asked my aunt.

“您想说什么呢，科特先生？”姨妈问道。

"What I mean is," said old Cotter, "it's bad for children. My idea is: let a young lad run about and play with young lads of his own age and not be... Am I right, Jack?"

“我是想说，”老科特说，“那对孩子们不好。我的看法是：要让一个小伙子到处跑跑，和与他同龄的伙计们玩，而不是……我说的对吧，杰克？”

"That's my principle, too," said my uncle. "Let him learn to box his corner. That's what I'm always saying to that Rosicrucian there: take exercise. Why, when I was a nipper every morning of my life I had a cold bath, winter and summer. And that's what stands to me now. Education is all very fine and large.... Mr. Cotter might take a pick of that leg mutton," he added to my aunt.

“这也是我的原则，”姨父说，“要让他学着闯出自己的一片天地。这也是我总是对那边那位玫瑰十字会会员说的话：多做锻炼。啊，想当年我是个小毛孩的时候，每天早上我都要洗个冷水澡，无论冬夏。而这也是我现在依然坚持的习惯。学校教育倒也是不错……科特先生可以来一块羊腿肉。”他又冲着姨妈说道。

"No, no, not for me," said old Cotter.

“不了，不了，别给我了。”老科特说道。

My aunt brought the dish from the safe and put it on the table.

姨妈从橱柜里取出了那盘羊腿肉放到了桌子上。

"But why do you think it's not good for children, Mr. Cotter?" she asked.

“可是，科特先生，您为什么觉得那对孩子们不好呢？”她问道。

"It's bad for children," said old Cotter, "because their mind are so impressionable. When children see things like that, you know, it has an effect...."

“那对孩子们不好，” 老科特说，“因为他们的思想很容易受影响。当孩子们看到此类事情的时候，你知道，它会产生一种影响……”

I crammed my mouth with stirabout for fear I might give utterance to my anger. Tiresome old red-nosed imbecile!

我往嘴里填塞着麦片粥，唯恐自己会怒气爆发。讨厌的红鼻子老傻瓜！

It was late when I fell asleep. Though I was angry with old Cotter for alluding to me as a child, I puzzled my head to extract meaning from his unfinished sentences. In the dark of my room I imagined that I saw again the heavy grey face of the paralytic. I drew the blankets over my head and tried to think of Christmas. But the grey face still followed me. It murmured, and I understood that it desired to confess something. I felt my soul receding into some pleasant and vicious region; and there again I found it waiting for me. It began to confess to me in a murmuring voice and I wondered why it smiled continually and why the lips were so moist with spittle. But then I remembered that it had died of paralysis and I felt that I too was smiling feebly as if to absolve the simoniac of his sin.

夜深的时候我才入睡。尽管我很生气老科特说我是小孩子，但我还是使劲在脑子里琢磨着他那没有讲完的话中所隐含的意思。房间里漆黑一片，我想象着我又看到了中风病人那张忧郁而灰白的脸。我把毯子拉上来盖住头，试着去想圣诞节。但是那张灰白的脸仍然追着我。它低语着，我明白它很想要诉说些什么。我感到自己的灵魂退隐到了某个舒适而又堕落的地方；在那里，我又发现它在等我。它开始喃喃地向我倾诉，我不知道它为什么一直在笑，为什么它的双唇被唾沫弄得那样湿润。可是很快我想起它已经死于瘫痪，我感觉我也开始无力地微笑，仿佛是要赦免他买卖圣职的罪行。

The next morning after breakfast I went down to look at the little house in Great Britain Street. It was an unassuming shop, registered under the vague name of Drapery. The drapery consisted mainly of children's bootees and umbrellas; and on ordinary days a notice used to hang in the window, saying: Umbrellas Re-covered. No notice was visible now for the shutters were up. A crape bouquet was tied to the doorknocker with ribbon. Two poor women and a telegram boy were reading the card pinned on the crape. I also approached and read:

第二天早晨，早饭过后，我去看了位于大不列颠街上的那所小房子。这是家不起眼的商店，是以“织物”这样一个意思含混的名字登记在册的。而所谓的织物主要包括儿童毛线鞋和雨伞；平时，一则告示常常挂在窗口，上面写着：雨伞换面。现在告示看不见了，因为百叶窗都关着。一把黑绉纱做的花束用丝带绑在门环上。两个穷女人和一个送电报的男孩正在读黑绉纱上别着的那张卡片。我也走上前去，看了起来：

July 1st, 1895 The Rev. James Flynn (formerly of S. Catherine's Church, Meath Street), aged sixty-five years. R. I. P.

1895年7月1日詹姆斯·弗林神父（曾供职于米斯街的圣凯瑟琳教堂），享年六十五岁。愿他安息。

The reading of the card persuaded me that he was dead and I was disturbed to find myself at check. Had he not been dead I would have gone into the little dark room behind the shop to find him sitting in his arm-chair by the fire, nearly smothered in his great-coat. Perhaps my aunt would have given me a packet of High Toast for him and this present would have roused him from his stupefied doze. It was always I who emptied the packet into his black snuff-box for his hands trembled too much to allow him to do this without spilling half the snuff about the floor. Even as he raised his large trembling hand to his nose little clouds of smoke dribbled through his fingers over the front of his coat. It may have been these constant showers of snuff which gave his ancient priestly garments their green faded look for the red handkerchief, blackened, as it always was, with the snuff-stains of a week, with which he tried to brush away the fallen grains, was quite inefficacious.

读了这张卡片，我才确信他是死了，我心烦意乱，一步也走不动。要是他没死的话，我就会到商店后面的那间小黑屋里去，就会看到他坐在火炉旁边的扶手椅里，整个人几乎都严严实实地包裹在大衣里。姨妈也可能会让我带给他一包高杯牌鼻烟，而这个礼物则会让他从昏昏沉沉的瞌睡中醒过来。每次总是我把这包烟倒进他那黑色的鼻烟壶里，因为他的手抖得太厉害，让他来做的话就会把一半的鼻烟都撒到地板上。甚至当他用那只颤抖的大手把烟凑到鼻子跟前的时候也总会有许多小片的烟粉从指缝中落到他的大衣前襟上。很可能正是这些经常落下的烟粉使他那古旧的神父服呈现出一种消褪的绿色，而他试图用来拂去这些鼻烟粉粒的那块红手帕也很不管用。由于沾满了一个星期的鼻烟污渍，那手帕一直都是黑乎乎的。

I wished to go in and look at him but I had not the courage to knock. I walked away slowly along the sunny side of the street, reading all the theatrical advertisements in the shop-windows as I went. I found it strange that neither I nor the day seemed in a mourning mood and I felt even annoyed at discovering in myself a sensation of freedom as if I had been freed from something by his death. I wondered at this for, as my uncle had said the night before, he had taught me a great deal. He had studied in the Irish college in Rome and he had taught me to pronounce Latin properly. He had told me stories about the catacombs and about Napoleon Bonaparte, and he had explained to me the meaning of the different ceremonies of the Mass and of the different vestments worn by the priest. Sometimes he had amused himself by putting difficult questions to me, asking me what one should do in certain circumstances or whether such and such sins were mortal or venial or only imperfections. His questions showed me how complex and mysterious were certain institutions of the Church which I had always regarded as the simplest acts. The duties of the priest towards the Eucharist and towards the secrecy of the confessional seemed so grave to me that I wondered how anybody had ever found in himself the courage to undertake them; and I was not surprised when he told me that the fathers of the Church had written books as thick as the Post Office Directory and as closely printed as the law notices in the newspaper, elucidating all these intricate questions. Often when I thought of this I could make no answer or only a very foolish and halting one upon which he used to smile and nod his head twice or thrice. Sometimes he used to put me through the responses of the Mass which he had made me learn by heart; and, as I pattered, he used to smile pensively and nod his head, now and then pushing huge pinches of snuff up each nostril alternately. When he smiled he used to uncover his big discoloured teeth and let his tongue lie upon his lower lip—a habit which had made me feel uneasy in the beginning of our acquaintance before I knew him well.

我想进去看看他，但我却没有勇气上去敲门。我沿着阳光照耀的那侧街道默默地走开，一路看着商店橱窗里所有的剧院海报。我觉得有些奇怪，我和那天色似乎都没有处于悲哀的情绪之中，我甚至感到有些恼火，因为发现自己内心居然有一种重获自由的感觉，仿佛因为他的死而使我从某种束缚中解放了出来。我对此感到不解，因为正如我姨父前一天晚上所说的那样，他教会了我许多东西。他曾经在罗马的爱尔兰学院学习过，他教会了我正确地读念拉丁文。他曾经给我讲过关于地下墓穴以及拿破仑·波拿巴的故事，他还曾经给我解释过各种弥撒仪式以及神父所穿的不同法衣的含义。有时他会通过向我提出难解的问题来寻开心，问我在特定情况下应该怎么做，或者问我某种罪行是致命的还是可宽恕的抑或只是些毛病而已。他的问题让我明白教会的某些制度是如何复杂和神秘，而我先前一直把它们看作是些再简单不过的规定。神父对圣餐以及忏悔室的秘密所负的责任在我看来是如此重大，我很想明白何以有人能鼓起足够的勇气去承担它们；而当他告诉我说，教堂的神父们曾写过像《邮局手册》一样厚、排版得像报纸上的法律公告一样密集的书来阐明所有这些错综复杂的问题时，我已经不觉得惊讶了。每每想到这一点，我总是无法给出答案或者只能给出一个非常愚蠢、非常含混的答案，对此，他总是报以微笑，同时还点两三下头。有时他会考考我他曾叫我用心记住的举行弥撒所需的应答短诗；当我叽里呱啦诵读的时候，他总是若有所思地微笑点头，时不时地轮流往两个鼻孔里塞大撮大撮的鼻烟。他微笑的时候常常会露出大颗大颗变色的牙齿，舌头则总是贴在下嘴唇上——这个习惯在我刚认识他、还没跟他熟识之前曾让我感到很不舒服。

As I walked along in the sun I remembered old Cotter's words and tried to remember what had happened afterwards in the dream. I remembered that I had noticed long velvet curtains and a swinging lamp of antique fashion. I felt that I had been very far away, in some land where the customs were strange—in Persia, I thought.... But I could not remember the end of the dream.

我在阳光下往前走着的时候，想起了老科特的话，然后开始极力回忆在梦里后来到底发生了什么。我记起我看到了长长的天鹅绒窗帘，还有一盏摇摆不定的古老的吊灯。我感觉我已经走了很远，到了某个风俗奇特的地方——是在波斯吧，也许……但我却记不起梦的结局了。

In the evening my aunt took me with her to visit the house of mourning. It was after sunset; but the window-panes of the houses that looked to the west reflected the tawny gold of a great bank of clouds. Nannie received us in the hall; and, as it would have been unseemly to have shouted at her, my aunt shook hands with her for all. The old woman pointed upwards interrogatively and, on my aunt's nodding, proceeded to toil up the narrow staircase before us, her bowed head being scarcely above the level of the banister-rail. At the first landing she stopped and beckoned us forward encouragingly towards the open door of the dead-room. My aunt went in and the old woman, seeing that I hesitated to enter, began to beckon to me again repeatedly with her hand.

傍晚，姨妈带我去了办丧事的那所房子。当时已过了日落时分；但房子向西的玻璃窗上仍反射有一大片云堆呈现出的金褐色的余光。南妮在前厅里迎接我们；由于冲她大声喊叫会显得不太得体，所以姨妈只是和她握了握手。老妇人带有询问意味地向上指了指，见姨妈点了点头，便开始在我们前面沿着狭窄的楼梯费力地往上爬，她的头向下低得几乎和旁边的栏杆一样高。在第一个楼梯平台上，她停了下来，招呼我们朝停放死者的那间屋子敞开的门走去。姨妈走了进去，老妇人见我犹豫不决，就又开始用手不停地招呼我。

I went in on tiptoe. The room through the lace end of the blind was suffused with dusky golden light amid which the candles looked like pale thin flames. He had been coffined. Nannie gave the lead and we three knelt down at the foot of the bed. I pretended to pray but I could not gather my thoughts because the old woman's mutterings distracted me. I noticed how clumsily her skirt was hooked at the back and how the heels of her cloth boots were trodden down all to one side. The fancy came to me that the old priest was smiling as he lay there in his coffin.

我蹑手蹑脚地走了进去。透过百叶窗的花边，昏暗的金色光芒弥漫到整个屋子里，使得蜡烛的光亮看起来有些苍白而微弱。他已经被放入棺材。南妮带头，我们三个跪在了棺脚边。我假装开始祈祷但却无法集中自己的思绪，因为老妇人在一旁的嘟哝声分散了我的注意力。我注意到她的裙子后面是怎样笨拙地扣在一起，还有她那布靴的鞋跟怎样被踩得偏向了一侧。恍惚之中我仿佛看到老神父正躺在他的棺材里微笑。

But no. When we rose and went up to the head of the bed I saw that he was not smiling. There he lay, solemn and copious, vested as for the altar, his large hands loosely retaining a chalice. His face was very truculent, grey and massive, with black cavernous nostrils and circled by a scanty white fur. There was a heavy odour in the room—the flowers.

但是他没有。当我们起身走到棺头旁边的时候，我看到他并没有微笑。他躺在那里，看上去庄严而博学，穿戴得像是要去祭坛，那双大手里松松地揽着一个圣杯。他的脸看上去灰暗而硕大，神情蛮横，鼻孔仿佛两个黑洞，脸颊周围长着一圈稀疏的白毛。屋子里有一股浓烈的味道——是那些花散发出来的。

We crossed ourselves and came away. In the little room downstairs we found Eliza seated in his arm-chair in state. I groped my way towards my usual chair in the corner while Nannie went to the sideboard and brought out a decanter of sherry and some wine-glasses. She set these on the table and invited us to take a little glass of wine. Then, at her sister's bidding, she filled out the sherry into the glasses and passed them to us. She pressed me to take some cream crackers also but I declined because I thought I would make too much noise eating them. She seemed to be somewhat disappointed at my refusal and went over quietly to the sofa where she sat down behind her sister. No one spoke: we all gazed at the empty fireplace.

我们各自在身前画了十字，然后离开。在楼下的小屋里，我们看见伊丽莎正端坐在他那把扶手椅里。我摸索着朝角落里那把我平时常坐的椅子走去，而南妮则到橱柜里取出了一瓶雪利酒和几个酒杯。她把这些东西放在桌子上，邀请我们大家都喝上一小杯酒。然后，在她姐姐的吩咐下，她把雪利酒倒入酒杯，然后端给了我们大家。她极力劝说我再吃些奶油饼干，但我谢绝了，因为我怕吃那些饼干会弄出很大的声响。对于我的拒绝，她显得有些失望，于是就安静地走到沙发跟前在她姐姐身后坐了下来。谁都没有说话：我们全都凝视着空荡荡的壁炉。

My aunt waited until Eliza sighed and then said:

一直等到伊丽莎叹了口气，姨妈才开口说道：

"Ah, well, he's gone to a better world."

“啊，好了，他已经去了一个更好的世界。”

Eliza sighed again and bowed her head in assent. My aunt fingered the stem of her wine-glass before sipping a little.

伊丽莎又叹了口气，点点头表示赞同。姨妈用手指摸了摸高脚酒杯的杯脚，然后呷了一小口酒。

"Did he... peacefully?" she asked.

“他走得……平静吗？”她问道。

"Oh, quite peacefully, ma'am," said Eliza. "You couldn't tell when the breath went out of him. He had a beautiful death, God be praised.""And everything...?"

“哦，非常平静，夫人。”伊丽莎说道，“你都无法得知他的呼吸是什么时候停止的。他死得很美，感谢上帝。”“那么一切都……？”

"Father O'Rourke was in with him a Tuesday and anointed him and prepared him and all."

“奥鲁尔克神父星期二和他在一起，给他涂了圣油，为他准备好了一切。”

"He knew then?"

“当时他清醒吗？”

"He was quite resigned."

“他很顺从。”

"He looks quite resigned," said my aunt.

“他看起来很顺从。”姨妈说道。

"That's what the woman we had in to wash him said. She said he just looked as if he was asleep, he looked that peaceful and resigned. No one would think he'd make such a beautiful corpse."

“这也是我们叫进去给他清洗的那个女人所说的话。她说他看上去就仿佛是睡着了，他看上去是那么安详和顺从。谁都想不到他死了的样子还能这么美。”

"Yes, indeed," said my aunt.

“是啊，的确如此。”姨妈说道。

She sipped a little more from her glass and said:

她又从酒杯里呷了一小口酒，然后说道：

"Well, Miss Flynn, at any rate it must be a great comfort for you to know that you did all you could for him. You were both very kind to him, I must say."

“呃，弗林小姐，无论如何你们已经为他尽力了，明白这一点一定会给你们很大的宽慰的。你们俩待他都非常好，我得说。”

Eliza smoothed her dress over her knees.

伊丽莎抚平了膝头的裙子。

"Ah, poor James!" she said. "God knows we done all we could, as poor as we are—we wouldn't see him want anything while he was in it."

“唉，可怜的詹姆斯！”她说，“上帝知道我们做了所有我们能做的一切，尽管我们穷成这样——我们也不愿意看到他在那里头还缺少什么东西。”

Nannie had leaned her head against the sofa-pillow and seemed about to fall asleep.

南妮已经把头靠在了沙发靠枕上，看上去像是马上就会睡着。

"There's poor Nannie," said Eliza, looking at her, "she's wore out. All the work we had, she and me, getting in the woman to wash him and then laying him out and then the coffin and then arranging about the Mass in the chapel. Only for Father O'Rourke I don't know what we'd done at all. It was him brought us all them flowers and them two candlesticks out of the chapel and wrote out the notice for the Freeman's General and took charge of all the papers for the cemetery and poor James's insurance."

“可怜的南妮，” 伊丽莎看着她说道, “她累坏了。她和我，我们做的所有这些活儿，包括找那个女人给他清洗，把他抬出来，放进棺材，然后又安排教堂里做弥撒。要是没有奥鲁尔克神父我不知道我们究竟能做什么。正是他从教堂给我们拿来所有的鲜花和那两个烛台，写了那份登在《自由民日报》上的公告，还负责处理所有和墓地那边有关的文件以及可怜的詹姆斯的保险。”

"Wasn't that good of him?" said my aunt.

“那他这人不是很好吗？”姨妈说。

Eliza closed her eyes and shook her head slowly.

伊丽莎闭上双眼，慢慢地摇了摇头。

"Ah, there's no friends like the old friends," she said, "when all is said and done, no friends that a body can trust."

“唉，还是老朋友靠得住，”她说，“但是归根到底，一具尸首是谈不上信任什么朋友的。”

"Indeed, that's true," said my aunt. "And I'm sure now that he's gone to his eternal reward he won't forget you and all your kindness to him."

“的确如此，这话不假。”姨妈说道，“不过我敢说，既然他已经去享用他那份永恒的奖赏，他不会忘记你们以及所有你们对他的好。”

"Ah, poor James!" said Eliza. "He was no great trouble to us. You wouldn't hear him in the house any more than now. Still, I know he's gone and all to that...."

“啊，可怜的詹姆斯！”伊丽莎说道，“对我们来说他一直都不是大麻烦。他还在的时候，在房子里发出的动静也不会比现在更大。可是，我知道他不在了，而且永远去了那个……”

"It's when it's all over that you'll miss him," said my aunt.

“只有一切结束的时候你们才会开始想他。”姨妈说。

"I know that," said Eliza. "I won't be bringing him in his cup of beef-tea any more, nor you, ma'am, sending him his snuff. Ah, poor James!"

“我明白。”伊丽莎说，“我再也不用把牛肉汁给他端进去，而您，夫人，也再不用送鼻烟给他了。唉，可怜的詹姆斯！”

She stopped, as if she were communing with the past and then said shrewdly:

她止住了话头，仿佛在沉湎于过去，然后又机敏地说道：

"Mind you, I noticed there was something queer coming over him latterly. Whenever I'd bring in his soup to him there I'd find him with his breviary fallen to the floor, lying back in the chair and his mouth open."

“您听我说，我注意到他在去世前就有些不对劲了。每次我端汤进去的时候，总是发现他的祈祷书掉在地上，人躺在椅子里，嘴巴张开着。”

She laid a finger against her nose and frowned: then she continued:

她把一个手指搁在鼻子上，皱起了眉头，然后接着说道：

"But still and all he kept on saying that before the summer was over he'd go out for a drive one fine day just to see the old house again where we were all born down in Irishtown and take me and Nannie with him. If we could only get one of them new-fangled carriages that makes no noise that Father O'Rourke told him about, them with the rheumatic wheels, for the day cheap—he said, at Johnny Rush's over the way there and drive out the three of us together of a Sunday evening. He had his mind set on that.... Poor James!"

“不过就这样，他还老是说，夏天过完之前，他会挑个好天坐车再去看看爱尔兰区的那所老房子，带着我和南妮一起。我们都是在那里出生的。只要我们能弄到一辆那种新式马车——奥鲁尔克神父曾告诉过他那种车不会发出噪声，轮子转起来呼哧呼哧的——然后便宜地租用一天，他说，就从路那边的约翰尼·拉什店里弄来，在一个礼拜日的傍晚拉我们三个一块出去。他一门心思都在这件事上……可怜的詹姆斯！”

"The Lord have mercy on his soul!" said my aunt.

“愿上帝宽恕他的灵魂！”姨妈说道。

Eliza took out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes with it. Then she put it back again in her pocket and gazed into the empty grate for some time without speaking.

伊丽莎掏出手帕擦了擦眼睛。紧接着她又把手帕放回了口袋里，然后就盯着空荡荡的炉子一言不发地看了好一会儿。

"He was too scrupulous always," she said. "The duties of the priesthood was too much for him. And then his life was, you might say, crossed."

“他总是顾虑太多。”她说，“神父的职责对他来说是太重了。所以呢，他这一辈子，可以说，都是在受罪。”

"Yes," said my aunt. "He was a disappointed man. You could see that."

“是呀，”姨妈说，“他是个失意的人。这一点大家都能看出来。”

A silence took possession of the little room and, under cover of it, I approached the table and tasted my sherry and then returned quietly to my chair in the comer. Eliza seemed to have fallen into a deep revery. We waited respectfully for her to break the silence: and after a long pause she said slowly:

沉默控制了这个小房间，在沉默的掩护下，我凑到桌子旁边尝了尝我的那份雪利酒，然后又静静地坐回到角落的椅子上。伊丽莎似乎已经深深地陷入了沉思。我们都满怀敬意地等着她来打破沉默：在一段漫长的停顿之后，她才缓缓地说道：

"It was that chalice he broke.... That was the beginning of it. Of course, they say it was all right, that it contained nothing, I mean. But still.... They say it was the boy's fault. But poor James was so nervous, God be merciful to him!"

“他打碎了那只圣杯……那也是这一切的开始。当然，他们说那没什么，我的意思是，说那杯子里什么也没盛。不过仍然……他们说那是那个男孩的错。但可怜的詹姆斯却非常紧张，愿上帝可怜他！”

"And was that it?" said my aunt. "I heard something...."

“真是这样吗？”姨妈问道，“我听说了……”

Eliza nodded.

伊丽莎点点头。

"That affected his mind," she said. "After that he began to mope by himself, talking to no one and wandering about by himself. So one night he was wanted for to go on a call and they couldn't find him anywhere. They looked high up and low down; and still they couldn't see a sight of him anywhere. So then the clerk suggested to try the chapel. So then they got the keys and opened the chapel and the clerk and Father O'Rourke and another priest that was there brought in a light for to look for him.... And what do you think but there he was, sitting up by himself in the dark in his confession-box, wide-awake and laughing-like softly to himself?" She stopped suddenly as if to listen. I too listened; but there was no sound in the house: and I knew that the old priest was lying still in his coffin as we had seen him, solemn and truculent in death, an idle chalice on his breast.

“那件事影响了他的心理，”她说，“在那之后他开始变得郁郁寡欢，不跟人说话，还一个人到处乱走。”就这样，一天晚上，他们想请他去做探访可却哪儿都找不着他。他们上找下找；可依旧是哪儿都看不见他的踪影。最后执事建议去礼拜堂找找看。于是他们拿上钥匙打开了礼拜堂的门，奥鲁尔克神父和当时在场的另一位神父还拿来了一盏灯以方便寻找他……然后他就在那里，独自坐在黑暗的忏悔室里，完全清醒着，好像在轻轻地对着自己发笑。发现他那副样子，你会怎么想？她突然停了下来，仿佛要聆听什么。我也凝神倾听着，但屋子里没有任何声音。我知道老神父还像我们刚刚看到的那个样子一动不动地躺在棺材里，死了还显得庄严而气势逼人，一只空置的圣杯放在他的胸前。

Eliza resumed:

伊丽莎接着说道：

"Wide-awake and laughing-like to himself.... So then, of course, when they saw that, that made them think that there was something gone wrong with him...."

“他非常清醒，好像还在冲自个儿发笑……那么，当然，他们看见那情景，那情景让他们觉得他有什么地方不对劲了……” EV3PAo5m1EvSAMa+rQ60i2sqteIKSdFr6PY/eKsRULPJHw+fI3sbKptGUxsYUMhl

IT WAS Joe Dillon who introduced the Wild West to us. He had a little library made up of old numbers of The Union Jack, Pluck and The Halfpenny Marvel. Every evening after school we met in his back garden and arranged Indian battles. He and his fat young brother Leo, the idler, held the loft of the stable while we tried to carry it by storm; or we fought a pitched battle on the grass. But, however well we fought, we never won siege or battle and all our bouts ended with Joe Dillon's war dance of victory. His parents went to eight-o'clock mass every morning in Gardiner Street and the peaceful odour of Mrs. Dillon was prevalent in the hall of the house. But he played too fiercely for us who were younger and more timid. He looked like some kind of an Indian when he capered round the garden, an old tea-cosy on his head, beating a tin with his fist and yelling:

是乔·狄龙把荒野西部介绍给我们的。他有一些由《联合杰克》、《勇气》和《半便士奇闻》的过期期刊组成的少许藏书。每天晚上放学之后，我们会在他家的后花园里碰头，玩印第安人的打仗游戏。他和他的胖弟弟利奥，那个懒人，会占据马厩的阁楼，而我们则通过强攻努力去夺取它；或者我们会在草地上玩对阵战。不过，无论我们玩得多卖力，我们从来都没有打赢过包围战或对阵战；所有的较量都是以乔·狄龙庆祝胜利的战争舞蹈收场。他的父母每天早上都会去加德纳街参加八点钟弥撒。狄龙太太身上那种平和的气息弥漫在房子的门厅里。可是对于我们这些比他年纪小、胆子也小的人来说，他却玩得过于拼命了。当他在花园里蹦来蹦去的时候，他看上去有点像是个印第安人，头上戴着一个茶壶保暖套，一只拳头敲打着一个锡铁罐，嘴里则喊叫着：

"Ya! yaka, yaka, yaka!" Everyone was incredulous when it was reported that he had a vocation for the priesthood. Nevertheless it was true.

“呀！呀咳，呀咳，呀咳！”据称他有心要当神父，大家都表示怀疑。不过这却是真的。

A spirit of unruliness diffused itself among us and, under its influence, differences of culture and constitution were waived. We banded ourselves together, some boldly, some in jest and some almost in fear: and of the number of these latter, the reluctant Indians who were afraid to seem studious or lacking in robustness, I was one. The adventures related in the literature of the Wild West were remote from my nature but, at least, they opened doors of escape. I liked better some American detective stories which were traversed from time to time by unkempt fierce and beautiful girls. Though there was nothing wrong in these stories and though their intention was sometimes literary they were circulated secretly at school. One day when Father Butler was hearing the four pages of Roman History clumsy Leo Dillon was discovered with a copy of The Halfpenny Marvel.

一种无法无天的精神在我们中间蔓延开来，在它的影响下，教养和体质的差异被完全忽视了。我们聚集成伙，有些人是为了显示自己的勇气，有些人是为了好玩，还有一些则几乎是出于害怕：最后这些人为数不少，他们害怕自己显得仿佛只会读书或者不够健壮，所以才勉勉强强地充当了印第安人，我就是其中的一员。文学作品中叙述的有关荒野西部的冒险故事离我的本性相距甚远，但至少，它们打开了逃避之门。我更喜欢读一些美国侦探小说，不时会有野性顽皮而又漂亮的女孩在沿路兜售。尽管这些小说里并没有什么不好的地方，而且它们的创作意图有时也很具有文学性，但在学校里它们却只能私下传阅。一天，当巴特勒神父在听我们诵读罗马历史的四页书时，发现了笨手笨脚的利奥·狄龙带着一本《半便士奇闻》。

"This page or this page? This page? Now, Dillon, up! 'Hardly had the day'... Go on! What day? 'Hardly had the day dawned'... Have you studied it? What have you there in your pocket?"

“这一页还是这一页？这一页？好了，狄龙，起来！‘那一天几乎还没有’……接着往下念！哪一天？‘那一天几乎还没有破晓’……你看过了没有？你口袋里装的是什么？”

Everyone's heart palpitated as Leo Dillon handed up the paper and everyone assumed an innocent face. Father Butler turned over the pages, frowning.

利奥·狄龙把那报纸交上去的时候，我们每个人都心惊肉跳，但每个人的脸上却又都装出一副无辜的样子。巴特勒神父翻了几页，皱起了眉头。

"What is this rubbish?" he said. "The Apache Chief! Is this what you read instead of studying your Roman History? Let me not find any more of this wretched stuff in this college. The man who wrote it, I suppose, was some wretched fellow who writes these things for a drink. I'm surprised at boys like you, educated, reading such stuff. I could understand it if you were... National School boys. Now, Dillon, I advise you strongly, get at your work or..."

“这是什么垃圾东西？”他说道，“阿帕奇酋长！这就是你不读你的《罗马史》而在看的东西？以后别让我在这所学校里再看到这种拙劣的东西。写这种东西的人，我想，一定是个该死的家伙，写这些玩意就是为了买酒喝。我很吃惊，像你们这样的男孩子，受过教育，还读这种东西。倘若你们是……国立学校的孩子，我倒还可以理解。听着，狄龙，我严正告诫你，好好用功，否则……”

This rebuke during the sober hours of school paled much of the glory of the Wild West for me and the confused puffy face of Leo Dillon awakened one of my consciences. But when the restraining influence of the school was at a distance I began to hunger again for wild sensations, for the escape which those chronicles of disorder alone seemed to offer me. The mimic warfare of the evening became at last as wearisome to me as the routine of school in the morning because I wanted real adventures to happen to myself. But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad.

在上学期间清醒的时刻听来的这番训诫使荒野西部在我看来所具有的荣光黯淡了不少，利奥·狄龙那张惶惑无措的胖脸也唤醒了我的一片良知。但是当我远离学校的约束影响时，我又开始渴求不羁的感觉，渴求只有那些乱世纪事才能提供给我的逃避。傍晚时分的模拟战争游戏最后变得和上午学校的例行功课一样无聊乏味，因为我想要有真正的冒险故事发生在自己身上。但是真正的冒险故事，我想，是不会发生在老呆在家里的人身上的：必须得到外面的世界去寻找。

The summer holidays were near at hand when I made up my mind to break out of the weariness of school-life for one day at least. With Leo Dillon and a boy named Mahony I planned a day's miching. Each of us saved up sixpence. We were to meet at ten in the morning on the Canal Bridge. Mahony's big sister was to write an excuse for him and Leo Dillon was to tell his brother to say he was sick. We arranged to go along the Wharf Road until we came to the ships, then to cross in the ferryboat and walk out to see the Pigeon House. Leo Dillon was afraid we might meet Father Butler or someone out of the college; but Mahony asked, very sensibly, what would Father Butler be doing out at the Pigeon House. We were reassured: and I brought the first stage of the plot to an end by collecting sixpence from the other two, at the same time showing them my own sixpence. When we were making the last arrangements on the eve we were all vaguely excited. We shook hands, laughing, and Mahony said:

暑假临近的时候，我下定决心至少有一天要打破学校生活的沉闷。和利奥·狄龙及一个名叫马奥尼的男孩一起，我制定了逃学一天的计划。我们每个人都攒了六便士。我们约好上午十点在运河桥上碰头。马奥尼的姐姐会给他写张事假条，而利奥·狄龙则会让他哥哥说他病了。我们计划沿着码头路往前走，一直走到有船的地方，然后坐渡轮过去，再走远些去看鸽棚。利奥·狄龙担心我们会碰上巴特勒神父或者学校里的什么人；而马奥尼则非常理智地反问说，巴特勒神父大老远地去鸽棚干什么。我们都放心了：然后我把他们两个的六便士收了上来，同时也给他们看了我自己的六便士，这样，这次阴谋的第一个阶段就告结束。在出发前夜做最后的安排时，我们都隐隐约约地感到有些激动。我们互相握手，大笑，马奥尼说：

"Till tomorrow, mates!"

“就等明天了，伙伴们！”

That night I slept badly. In the morning I was firstcomer to the bridge as I lived nearest. I hid my books in the long grass near the ashpit at the end of the garden where nobody ever came and hurried along the canal bank. It was a mild sunny morning in the first week of June. I sat up on the coping of the bridge admiring my frail canvas shoes which I had diligently pipeclayed overnight and watching the docile horses pulling a tramload of business people up the hill. All the branches of the tall trees which lined the mall were gay with little light green leaves and the sunlight slanted through them on to the water. The granite stone of the bridge was beginning to be warm and I began to pat it with my hands in time to an air in my head. I was very happy.

那天晚上我睡得很不好。早上我第一个来到桥上，因为我住得最近。我把书藏在了花园尽头灰窖旁边从来没什么人去的高草丛中，然后就匆匆沿着运河河岸走去。那是六月第一周里一个温和晴朗的早晨。我端坐在桥栏上，一边欣赏着自己头天晚上辛辛苦苦用白黏土涂白的磨坏了的灯芯绒鞋子，一边看着温顺的马儿拉着街车往山上爬，车上坐满了做生意的人。林荫路两边种着高高的树木，所有的树枝上都生意盎然地绽放着浅绿色的小叶，阳光透过这些枝叶斜射到水面上。大桥的花岗岩石面变得暖和起来，应和着脑子里想着的一种曲调，我开始用手轻拍起石面来。我非常快乐。

When I had been sitting there for five or ten minutes I saw Mahony's grey suit approaching. He came up the hill, smiling, and clambered up beside me on the bridge. While we were waiting he brought out the catapult which bulged from his inner pocket and explained some improvements which he had made in it. I asked him why he had brought it and he told me he had brought it to have some gas with the birds. Mahony used slang freely, and spoke of Father Butler as Old Bunser. We waited on for a quarter of an hour more but still there was no sign of Leo Dillon. Mahony, at last, jumped down and said:

坐了有五分钟或十分钟的时候，我看见马奥尼身穿灰色外套朝这边走来。他沿着小山走了上来，微笑着，然后攀上桥栏坐在了我的身边。我们等着的时候，他从鼓鼓囊囊的内揣口袋里掏出了弹弓，向我解释了他所做的一些改进。我问他为什么要带弹弓，他告诉我说他带它是为了和鸟儿们寻开心。马奥尼很随意地使用着俚语，把巴特勒神父说成是老邦瑟。我们又等了一刻钟，但仍然不见利奥·狄龙的影子。最后，马奥尼跳下来说：

"Come along. I knew Fatty'd funk it.""And his sixpence...?" I said.

“走吧。我早知道胖子会临阵脱逃。”“那他的六便士？”我说道。

"That's forfeit," said Mahony. "And so much the better for us—a bob and a tanner instead of a bob."

“没收了，”马奥尼说，“这样对我们更好——有一先令六便士而不只是一先令。”

We walked along the North Strand Road till we came to the Vitriol Works and then turned to the right along the Wharf Road. Mahony began to play the Indian as soon as we were out of public sight. He chased a crowd of ragged girls, brandishing his unloaded catapult and, when two ragged boys began, out of chivalry, to fling stones at us, he proposed that we should charge them. I objected that the boys were too small and so we walked on, the ragged troop screaming after us: "Swaddlers! Swaddlers!"thinking that we were Protestants because Mahony, who was dark-complexioned, wore the silver badge of a cricket club in his cap. When we came to the Smoothing Iron we arranged a siege; but it was a failure because you must have at least three. We revenged ourselves on Leo Dillon by saying what a funk he was and guessing how many he would get at three o'clock from Mr. Ryan.

我们沿着北斯特兰德路一直走到矾油厂，然后向右拐到了码头路上。我们一走出公众的视线，马奥尼就开始扮起了印第安人。他追赶着一群衣衫褴褛的女孩们，手里挥舞着没装子弹的弹弓，当两个衣衫褴褛的男孩发扬骑士精神朝我们扔石块时，他又建议说我们应该向他们发起进攻。我反对说那两个男孩还太小，于是我们就继续往前走，而衣衫褴褛的那伙孩子则在我们身后尖叫着：“小屁孩！小屁孩！”。他们以为我们是新教徒，因为马奥尼肤色偏黑，他的帽子上还别着一个板球俱乐部的银色徽章。当我们来到熨平铁那个地方的时候，我们组织了一次围攻；不过没有玩成，因为至少得有三个人。我们就在利奥·狄龙身上发泄怨气，说他真是个胆小鬼，猜想着三点钟的时候他会从瑞安先生那里挨多少下打。

We came then near the river. We spent a long time walking about the noisy streets flanked by high stone walls, watching the working of cranes and engines and often being shouted at for our immobility by the drivers of groaning carts. It was noon when we reached the quays and as all the labourers seemed to be eating their lunches, we bought two big currant buns and sat down to eat them on some metal piping beside the river. We pleased ourselves with the spectacle of Dublin's commerce—the barges signalled from far away by their curls of woolly smoke, the brown fishing fleet beyond Ringsend, the big white sailing-vessel which was being discharged on the opposite quay. Mahony said it would be right skit to run away to sea on one of those big ships and even I, looking at the high masts, saw, or imagined, the geography which had been scantily dosed to me at school gradually taking substance under my eyes. School and home seemed to recede from us and their influences upon us seemed to wane.

然后我们来到了河边。我们在两边筑有高高石墙的嘈杂的街道上走了好一会儿，看着起重机和机车在运转，我们常常会站着不动，因而招来驾着吱扭作响大车的车夫们的喝斥。中午时分，我们走到了码头，似乎所有干活的人都在吃午饭，于是我们也买了两个大大的葡萄干面包，在河边的一根金属管道上坐下吃了起来。我们高兴地观赏着都柏林的商业景象——老远就能看见的喷着模糊烟圈的驳船，停靠在林森德那边的棕色渔船，和对面码头上正在卸货的白色大帆船。马奥尼说要是坐在那样的一艘大船上跑到海上去，那会非常有趣；看着那些高高的桅杆，我甚至看到了，或者说想象到了，在学校里一星半点学到的那点地理知识渐渐地在我的眼前变成了实实在在的东西。学校和家似乎在离我们越来越远，它们对我们的影响也似乎在减弱。

We crossed the Liffey in the ferryboat, paying our toll to be transported in the company of two labourers and a little Jew with a bag. We were serious to the point of solemnity, but once during the short voyage our eyes met and we laughed. When we landed we watched the discharging of the graceful threemaster which we had observed from the other quay. Some bystander said that she was a Norwegian vessel. I went to the stern and tried to decipher the legend upon it but, failing to do so, I came back and examined the foreign sailors to see had any of them green eyes for I had some confused notion.... The sailors' eyes were blue and grey and even black. The only sailor whose eyes could have been called green was a tall man who amused the crowd on the quay by calling out cheerfully every time the planks fell:

我们付了船费，和两个工人还有一个随身带着个包的小个子犹太人一起坐船渡过了利菲河。我们都很严肃，几乎到了肃穆的地步。不过，在这短短的旅途中，有一次目光相遇的时候，我们俩都笑了起来。上了岸之后，我们就看着那艘姿态优雅的三桅帆船卸货，在对面码头的时候我们就曾经观察过它。一旁有个人说，这是艘挪威船。我走到船尾，想从船身上的图文中解读出点什么，但却没能成功，于是我又返回来仔细端详那些外国水手，看他们中有没有谁的眼睛是绿色的，因为我一直有某种模糊的概念……但是这些水手的眼睛有的是蓝色的，有的是灰色的，甚至还有的是黑色的。只有一名水手的眼睛可以称得上是绿色的，他是个高个子，码头上的人群都冲着他直乐，因为每次木板落下的时候，他总是高兴地大喊：

"All right! All right!" When we were tired of this sight we wandered slowly into Ringsend. The day had grown sultry, and in the windows of the grocers' shops musty biscuits lay bleaching. We bought some biscuits and chocolate which we ate sedulously as we wandered through the squalid streets where the families of the fishermen live. We could find no dairy and so we went into a huckster's shop and bought a bottle of raspberry lemonade each. Refreshed by this, Mahony chased a cat down a lane, but the cat escaped into a wide field. We both felt rather tired and when we reached the field we made at once for a sloping bank over the ridge of which we could see the Dodder.

“好了!好了！”当我们看够了这个场景之后，就慢慢蹓跶到了林森德。天气变得闷热起来，杂货店橱窗里放着颜色发白的发霉饼干。我们买了些饼干和巧克力，漫步走过渔民家庭居住的肮脏街道，小心翼翼地吃了一路。我们没能找到乳品店，于是就走进一家小卖铺，一人买了一瓶山莓柠檬汽水。喝完汽水又有了劲，马奥尼开始顺着一条巷子追赶一只猫，可那只猫却逃进了一片开阔的田地。我们都觉得非常累，走到那片田地，我们就立刻朝一处倾斜的坡岸走去，从岸脊上望过去可以看到多德河。

It was too late and we were too tired to carry out our project of visiting the Pigeon House. We had to be home before four o'clock lest our adventure should be discovered. Mahony looked regretfully at his catapult and I had to suggest going home by train before he regained any cheerfulness. The sun went in behind some clouds and left us to our jaded thoughts and the crumbs of our provisions.

时间已晚，我们也都累得无法去实现参观鸽棚的计划了。我们必须得在四点钟之前回到家，以免我们的冒险被人发现。马奥尼失望地盯着他的弹弓，我则没等他重新打起精神就不得不提议坐火车回家。太阳钻到了一些云朵后面，我们俩萎靡不振，食物则仅剩残渣。

There was nobody but ourselves in the field. When we had lain on the bank for some time without speaking I saw a man approaching from the far end of the field. I watched him lazily as I chewed one of those green stems on which girls tell fortunes. He came along by the bank slowly. He walked with one hand upon his hip and in the other hand he held a stick with which he tapped the turf lightly. He was shabbily dressed in a suit of greenish-black and wore what we used to call a jerry hat with a high crown. He seemed to be fairly old for his moustache was ashen-grey. When he passed at our feet he glanced up at us quickly and then continued his way. We followed him with our eyes and saw that when he had gone on for perhaps fifty paces he turned about and began to retrace his steps. He walked towards us very slowly, always tapping the ground with his stick, so slowly that I thought he was looking for something in the grass.

田地里除了我们再无别人。我们一言不发地在坡岸上躺了一会儿，然后我看见有个人远远地从田地的那一头走了过来。我一边懒洋洋地看着他，一边嚼着一些女孩子常用来算命的绿草杆儿。他沿着坡岸慢慢地走来。他走路时，一只手搭在胯部，另一只手里拿着一根棍子，轻轻地敲打着草皮。他衣着破旧，穿着一件黑绿色的外套，戴着一顶我们过去叫作马桶帽的帽子，帽顶很高。他似乎很老了，因为他的胡子已经灰白。当他从我们脚边经过的时候，他抬眼很快瞥了一下我们俩，然后又继续走他的路。我们用目光跟随着他，看到他往前走了大概五十步之后，然后转过身又开始往回走。他非常缓慢地朝我们走来，一边还是用他的棍子不断敲打着地面，他走得太慢了，慢得让我以为他是在草里寻找什么东西。

He stopped when he came level with us and bade us goodday. We answered him and he sat down beside us on the slope slowly and with great care. He began to talk of the weather, saying that it would be a very hot summer and adding that the seasons had changed greatly since he was a boy—a long time ago. He said that the happiest time of one's life was undoubtedly one's schoolboy days and that he would give anything to be young again. While he expressed these sentiments which bored us a little we kept silent. Then he began to talk of school and of books. He asked us whether we had read the poetry of Thomas Moore or the works of Sir Walter Scott and Lord Lytton. I pretended that I had read every book he mentioned so that in the end he said:

走到我们跟前的时候，他停了下来，向我们问日安。我们回应了他，他就慢慢地、非常小心地在我们身边的斜坡上坐了下来。他开始谈论天气，说今年夏天天气会很热，还说季节变化很大，相比他小时候而言——那是很久以前了。他说一个人一生中最幸福的时刻无疑是他的学生时代，他愿意以任何代价来换得再年轻一回。当他抒发这些让我们颇感厌烦的感想时，我们都保持沉默。然后他开始谈论起学校和书本来。他问我们是否读过托马斯·穆尔的诗歌或者沃尔特·司各脱和利顿勋爵的作品。我装出自己读过他提到的每一本书的样子，以至于最后他说道：

"Ah, I can see you are a bookworm like myself. Now, " he added, pointing to Mahony who was regarding us with open eyes, "he is different; he goes in for games."

“啊，我看出来了，你和我一样也是个书虫。嗯，”他指着睁大眼睛注视着我们的马奥尼接着说道，“他就不一样了；他喜欢游戏。”

He said he had all Sir Walter Scott's works and all Lord Lytton's works at home and never tired of reading them. "Of course," he said, "there were some of Lord Lytton's works which boys couldn't read." Mahony asked why couldn't boys read them—a question which agitated and pained me because I was afraid the man would think I was as stupid as Mahony. The man, however, only smiled. I saw that he had great gaps in his mouth between his yellow teeth. Then he asked us which of us had the most sweethearts. Mahony mentioned lightly that he had three totties. The man asked me how many I had. I answered that I had none. He did not believe me and said he was sure I must have one. I was silent.

他说他家里收藏有沃尔特·司各脱爵士的全部作品和利顿勋爵的全部作品，并且他读这些书从来就没有厌倦过。“当然了，”他说，“利顿勋爵的有些作品男孩子是不能读的。”马奥尼问为什么男孩子读不了——这个问题让我感到又不安又难受，因为我害怕这个人会以为我和马奥尼一样愚蠢。然而，那个人却只是笑了笑。我看见他嘴里的那些黄牙之间有很大的缝隙。然后他问我们俩谁的小情人最多。马奥尼轻松地提到他有三个女人。那个人又问我有几个。我回答说我一个都没有。他不相信我的话，并且说他敢确信我肯定有一个。我沉默无语。

"Tell us," said Mahony pertly to the man, "how many have you yourself?"

“告诉我们，”马奥尼直白地冲那个人说道，“你自己有几个？”

The man smiled as before and said that when he was our age he had lots of sweethearts.

那个人又像先前那样笑了笑，然后说像我们这么大的时候，他有过很多情人。

"Every boy," he said, "has a little sweetheart."

“每个男孩，”他说，“都有一个小情人。”

His attitude on this point struck me as strangely liberal in a man of his age. In my heart I thought that what he said about boys and sweethearts was reasonable. But I disliked the words in his mouth and I wondered why he shivered once or twice as if he feared something or felt a sudden chill. As he proceeded I noticed that his accent was good. He began to speak to us about girls, saying what nice soft hair they had and how soft their hands were and how all girls were not so good as they seemed to be if one only knew. There was nothing he liked, he said, so much as looking at a nice young girl, at her nice white hands and her beautiful soft hair. He gave me the impression that he was repeating something which he had learned by heart or that, magnetised by some words of his own speech, his mind was slowly circling round and round in the same orbit. At times he spoke as if he were simply alluding to some fact that everybody knew, and at times he lowered his voice and spoke mysteriously as if he were telling us something secret which he did not wish others to overhear. He repeated his phrases over and over again, varying them and surrounding them with his monotonous voice. I continued to gaze towards the foot of the slope, listening to him.

他在这个问题上的态度让我觉得对于他那个年龄的人来说有些出乎寻常的开放。从我本心讲，我认为他所说的关于男孩和情人的事是有道理的。可我不喜欢他嘴里说出的词，而且我很纳闷他为什么哆嗦了一两次，仿佛他害怕什么或者突然感觉到了寒冷似的。他接着往下讲的时候，我注意到他的口音还是很纯正的。他开始跟我们谈论起女孩们的事情来，说她们有怎样柔美的发丝，她们的双手是如何的柔软，以及但凡一个人有所了解就会知道所有的女孩其实并没有她们看起来那么好。他说，没有什么比盯着一个漂亮姑娘看——看她那好看白皙的双手，看她那柔滑秀美的头发——更让他喜欢的事情了。他给我的印象的是他正在复述他已经记诵在心的东西或者说受他自己谈话中的某些语句的吸引，他的思绪正慢慢地沿着同一个轨道开始不停地绕起圈来。有时，他说话的样子仿佛他只是在谈论尽人皆知的某个事实，而有时，他又压低嗓音，神秘兮兮地说话，仿佛他在告诉我们一件秘密的事情，不希望别人偷听到。他重复着他的话语，一遍又一遍，变换着不同的表述方式，包裹在他那单调的嗓音中。我一边继续凝视着坡脚，一边听着他说。

After a long while his monologue paused. He stood up slowly, saying that he had to leave us for a minute or so, a few minutes, and, without changing the direction of my gaze, I saw him walking slowly away from us towards the near end of the field. We remained silent when he had gone. After a silence of a few minutes I heard Mahony exclaim:

过了好一会儿，他的独白停止了。他缓慢地站起身来，说他得离开我们一会儿，就几分钟，而我在没有改变凝视方向的情况下看见他慢慢离开我们朝离我们较近的地头走去。当他走开以后，我们都沉默不语。几分钟的沉默之后，我听到马奥尼叫了起来：

"I say! Look what he's doing!" As I neither answered nor raised my eyes Mahony exclaimed again:

“我说！快看他在做什么！”因为我既没有应答也没有抬眼去看，马奥尼又叫了起来：

"I say... He's a queer old josser!"

“我说……他真是个古怪的老家伙！”

"In case he asks us for our names," I said "let you be Murphy and I'll be Smith."

“万一他问起我们的名字，”我说道，“那你就叫墨菲，我叫史密斯。”

We said nothing further to each other. I was still considering whether I would go away or not when the man came back and sat down beside us again. Hardly had he sat down when Mahony, catching sight of the cat which had escaped him, sprang up and pursued her across the field. The man and I watched the chase. The cat escaped once more and Mahony began to throw stones at the wall she had escaladed. Desisting from this, he began to wander about the far end of the field, aimlessly.

我们彼此没有再说什么。我还在考虑要不要走开的时候那个人就回来了，他又在我们身边坐了下来。而他刚一坐下，马奥尼就看见了那只逃跑了的猫，他纵身跃起，越过田地追了上去。那个人和我则看着他追。那只猫再一次逃脱了，马奥尼开始朝着猫爬上去的那堵墙扔石头。等到不扔石块了，他就开始远远地在田地的那一头漫无目的地蹓跶起来。

After an interval the man spoke to me. He said that my friend was a very rough boy and asked did he get whipped often at school. I was going to reply indignantly that we were not National School boys to be whipped, as he called it; but I remained silent. He began to speak on the subject of chastising boys. His mind, as if magnetised again by his speech, seemed to circle slowly round and round its new centre. He said that when boys were that kind they ought to be whipped and well whipped. When a boy was rough and unruly there was nothing would do him any good but a good sound whipping. A slap on the hand or a box on the ear was no good: what he wanted was to get a nice warm whipping. I was surprised at this sentiment and involuntarily glanced up at his face. As I did so I met the gaze of a pair of bottle-green eyes peering at me from under a twitching forehead. I turned my eyes away again.

过了一会儿，那个人开始对我说起话来。他说我的朋友是一个非常顽皮的男孩，并且问我他在学校里是不是常常挨鞭子。我很想愤怒地反驳说我们不是国立学校的男生，不会像他说的那样挨鞭子，不过我最终还是保持着沉默。他开始谈论起体罚学生的话题。他的思绪，仿佛再次被自己的话语所吸引，似乎绕着新的中心开始慢慢地转起圈来。他说男孩子要是那种样子他们就应该挨打，而且应该是好好地挨一顿打。一个男孩要是又顽皮又难管教的话，没有什么能对他有好处，只能是结结实实地打一顿。打手掌或扇耳光都不管用：他需要的就是好好地挨一顿鞭打，直到打得浑身发热。我对这种论调感到吃惊，不由自主地抬眼去看他的脸。我这样做的时候，他那蹙起的额头下露出的一双墨绿色的眼睛也正在凝视着我。我又移开了自己的目光。

The man continued his monologue. He seemed to have forgotten his recent liberalism. He said that if ever he found a boy talking to girls or having a girl for a sweetheart he would whip him and whip him; and that would teach him not to be talking to girls. And if a boy had a girl for a sweetheart and told lies about it then he would give him such a whipping as no boy ever got in this world. He said that there was nothing in this world he would like so well as that. He described to me how he would whip such a boy as if he were unfolding some elaborate mystery. He would love that, he said, better than anything in this world; and his voice, as he led me monotonously through the mystery, grew almost affectionate and seemed to plead with me that I should understand him.

那个人继续着他的独白。他似乎已经忘记了自己刚才那种开明的态度。他说要是他发现一个男孩跟女孩们说话或者有个女孩作情人，他会揍他一顿，好好地揍他一顿；那样就会教他记住不要随便和女孩们说话。要是一个男孩有个女孩作情人但却对此事撒谎的话，他会抽他一顿鞭子，一顿世界上任何男孩都没挨过的鞭子。他说世界上再没有什么事能让他如此喜欢的了。他向我描述他会怎样鞭打这样一个男孩，仿佛是在揭示某个复杂的秘密。他愿意那么做，他说，胜过世界上的任何事情；他的嗓音，在单调乏味地引导我感受这个秘密的过程中，渐渐变得几乎充满了爱意，似乎在恳求我应该要理解他。

I waited till his monologue paused again. Then I stood up abruptly. Lest I should betray my agitation I delayed a few moments pretending to fix my shoe properly and then, saying that I was obliged to go, I bade him good-day. I went up the slope calmly but my heart was beating quickly with fear that he would seize me by the ankles. When I reached the top of the slope I turned round and, without looking at him, called loudly across the field:

我等待着，直到他的独白再次停止。然后我迅速站起身来。担心会暴露自己的烦躁不安，我耽搁了片刻，假装整理了一下我的鞋子，然后说我必须得走了，就跟他道日安告别了。我镇静地爬上坡岸，但心却跳得很快，害怕他会抓住我的脚脖子。爬到坡顶之后，我转过身来，不去看他，朝田地的那头大声叫了起来：

"Murphy!"

“墨菲！”

My voice had an accent of forced bravery in it and I was ashamed of my paltry stratagem. I had to call the name again before Mahony saw me and hallooed in answer. How my heart beat as he came running across the field to me! He ran as if to bring me aid. And I was penitent; for in my heart I had always despised him a little.

我的声音中有一种强装勇敢的腔调，我为自己的卑鄙伎俩感到羞愧。我不得不又喊了一次那个名字马奥尼才看见我，然后吆喝着作了应答。当他越过田地朝我跑来的时候，我的心跳得可真是快啊！他跑过来，俨然是来拯救我。而我却很是懊悔；因为在我心目中一直以来都有点看不起他。 EV3PAo5m1EvSAMa+rQ60i2sqteIKSdFr6PY/eKsRULPJHw+fI3sbKptGUxsYUMhl