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The Blind Man

The Blind Man
The Blind Man

盲人

The Blind Man

作者:D. H. 劳伦斯

by D. H. Herbert Lawrence

伊莎贝尔·培文一直在留心听着两种声音:外面车轮的滚动声和门厅里丈夫的脚步声。她最亲密的老朋友,一个她生活中似乎不可或缺的男人,要在这个十一月底的黄昏,冒着雨,驱车前来。马车已经去车站接他了。而她的丈夫也马上要从外屋进来了,他在佛兰德弄瞎了双眼,并且眉毛那儿还留了道破相的疤痕。

Isabel Pervin was listening for two sounds—for the sound of wheels on the drive outside and for the noise of her husband’s footsteps in the hall. Her dearest and oldest friend, a man who seemed almost indispensable to her living, would drive up in the rainy dusk of the closing November day. The trap had gone to fetch him from the station. And her husband, who had been blinded in Flanders, and who had a disfiguring mark on his brow, would be coming in from the outhouses.

丈夫已经在家呆了一年了。他完全失明了。但夫妻俩过得很快乐。“格兰奇农场”是莫里斯自己的地盘。农场后面有排建筑,沃纳姆一家就住在背后的房子里,他们是农场的农夫。伊莎贝尔和她的丈夫则住在农场前面漂亮的房子里。自从他受伤以后,她和他就一起过着几乎离群索居的生活。他们一起愉快地闲聊、唱歌和读书,亲密得无法形容。她还为苏格兰一家报社写写书评,继续着自己的爱好,而他大部分时间在忙着打理农场。尽管眼睛看不见,但他仍然能与沃纳姆讨论各种事情,还能够干很多农场的活——虽是些仆人们干的活,但却能让他感到满足。他挤牛奶、搬奶桶、转动脱脂器、照料猪和马。对他一个盲人来说,生活仍然非常充实,也异常平静,即使是直接置身于黑暗,面对那不可思议的宁静,他也依然平静。和妻子在一起,他拥有了整个世界,这个世界虽不可见,却丰富而真实。

He had been home for a year now. He was totally blind. Yet they had been very happy. The Grange was Maurice’s own place. The back was a farmstead, and the Wer nhams, who occupied the rear premises, acted as farmers. Isabel lived with her husband in the handsome rooms in front. She and he had been almost entirely alone together since he was wounded. They talked and sang and read together in a wonderful and unspeakable intimacy. Then she reviewed books for a Scottish newspaper, carrying on her old interest, and he occupied himself a good deal with the farm. Sightless, he could still discuss everything with Wernham, and he could also do a good deal of work about the place—menial work, it is true, but it gave him satisfaction. He milked the cows, carried in the pails, turned the丈夫已经在家呆了一年了。他完全失明了。但夫妻俩过得很快乐。“格兰奇农场”是莫里斯自己的地盘。农场后面有排建筑,沃纳姆一家就住在背后的房子里,他们是农场的农夫。伊莎贝尔和她的丈夫则住在农场前面漂亮的房子里。自从他受伤以后,她和他就一起过着几乎离群索居的生活。他们一起愉快地闲聊、唱歌和读书,亲密得无法形容。她还为苏格兰一家报社写写书评,继续着自己的爱好,而他大部分时间在忙着打理农场。尽管眼睛看不见,但他仍然能与沃纳姆讨论各种事情,还能够干很多农场的活——虽是些仆人们干的活,但却能让他感到满足。他挤牛奶、搬奶桶、转动脱脂器、照料猪和马。对他一个盲人来说,生活仍然非常充实,也异常平静,即使是直接置身于黑暗,面对那不可思议的宁静,他也依然平静。和妻子在一起,他拥有了整个世界,这个世界虽不可见,却丰富而真实。

He had been home for a year now. He was totally blind. Yet they had been very happy. The Grange was Maurice’s own place. The back was a farmstead, and the Wernhams, who occupied the rear premises, acted as farmers. Isabel lived with her husband in the handsome rooms in

front. She and he had been almost entirely alone together since he was wounded. They talked and sang and read together in a wonderful and unspeakable intimacy. Then she reviewed books for a Scottish newspaper, carrying on her old interest, and he occupied himself a good deal with the farm. Sightless, he could still discuss everything with Wernham, and he could also do a good deal of work about the place—menial work, it is true, but it gave him satisfaction. He milked the cows, carried in the pails, turned the separator, attended to the pigs and horses. Life was still very full and strangely serene for the blind man, peaceful with the almost incomprehensible peace of immediate contact in darkness. With his wife he had a whole world, rich and real and invisible.

他们又重新感受到了久违的快乐。在这黑暗却摸得到的快乐时光中,他甚至并不为自己失明而感到遗憾。一种欢欣的心情充盈着他的内心。

They were newly and remotely happy. He did not even regret the loss of his sight in these times of dark, palpable joy. A certain exultance swelled his soul.

然而时光消逝,这种幸福的魔力有时也会离他们而去。有时,几个月这样热烈的欢快之后,一种负担感便会压向伊莎贝尔,在那间寂静的屋子里,她感到疲惫,异常厌倦,仿佛处于一排高大的松树之中。她觉得她快要发疯了,因为她实在是受不了了。而且他也不时会感到阵阵沮丧,这种沮丧极具破坏性,几乎要把他整个人都摧毁。比沮丧更糟糕的是——他会感到极度的痛苦,这时生活对他而言就是一种折磨,他的存在使妻子不堪忍受。阴郁的日子周而复始,恐惧已经深深植根于她的灵魂深处。面对丈夫,她总是有点慌乱地尽量掩饰自己。她一直强行让往日由衷的喜悦和快乐延续下去。但这让她付出了太多的努力。她知道她坚持不住了。她感到自己会因为压力大而叫出声来,想不顾一切地逃离,无论付出什么。她渴望完完全全地拥有她丈夫,这会给她带来无限的快乐。然而,一旦他再次陷入极度的痛苦,她不但无法忍受他,更无法忍受自己;她恨不得自己完全从这个世界消失,怎么都行,总比付出这样的代价活着要强。

But as time wore on, sometimes the rich glamour would leave them. Sometimes, after months of this intensity, a sense of burden overcame Isabel, a weariness, a terrible ennui, in that silent house approached between a colonnade of tall-shafted pines. Then she felt she would go mad, for she could not bear it. And sometimes he had devastating fits of depression, which seemed to lay waste his whole being. It was worse than depression—a black misery, when his own life was a torture to him, and when his presence was unbearable to his wife. The dread went down to the roots of her soul as these black days recurred. In a kind of panic she tried to wrap herself up still further in her husband. She forced the old spontaneous cheerfulness and joy to continue. But the effort it cost her was almost too much. She knew she could not keep it up. She felt she would scream with the strain, and would give anything, anything, to escape. She longed to possess her husband utterly; it gave her inordinate joy to have him entirely to herself. And yet, when again he was gone in a black and massive misery, she could not bear him, she could not bear herself; she wished she could be snatched away off the earth altogether, anything rather than live at this cost. 她感到茫然,于是设法寻找出路。她邀请朋友来家作客,试图让他与外界有更多的联系。但这没有用。经历过这所有的欢乐和痛苦之后,经历过这样黑暗却重大,有失明、有孤独,也有无法言说的亲密的一年,其他人在他们眼中都显得肤浅、啰嗦、非常粗鲁。肤浅的闲聊显得专横粗鲁。他变得毫无耐心、易躁易怒,她也厌烦了。所以他们又一次陷入了孤独。因为他们宁愿这样。样黑暗却重大,有失明、有孤独,也有无法言说的亲密的一年,其他人在他们眼中都显得肤浅、啰嗦、非常粗鲁。肤浅的闲聊显得专横粗鲁。他变得毫无耐心、易躁易怒,她也厌烦了。所以他们又一次陷入了孤独。因为他们宁愿这样。

Dazed, she schemed for a way out. She invited friends, she tried to give him some further

connexion with the outer world. But it was no good. After all their joy and suffering, after their dark, great year of blindness and solitude and unspeakable nearness, other people seemed to them both shallow, prattling, rather impertinent. Shallow prattle seemed presumptuous. He became impatient and irritated, she was wearied. And so they lapsed into their solitude again. For they preferred it.

但是现在,再过几个星期,她的第二个孩子就要出生了。第一个孩子还是婴儿时就死了,那时她丈夫第一次去法国。她满怀喜悦和宽慰,期待着第二个孩子的降临。孩子会是她的救星。但她也有些焦虑。她三十岁了,丈夫比她小一岁。他们俩都十分想要这个孩子。但是她不禁感到害怕。她要照顾丈夫,对她而言,这既是极大的快乐,也是沉重的负担。孩子将会占有她的爱和注意力。那时,莫里斯该怎么办?他会怎么样呢?孩子出生时,她如果能觉察到他也同样平静与快乐,那该有多好啊!她多想纵情享受一下那种强烈的身为人母的满足感。但是,那个男人,他该怎么办呢?她怎么安顿他呢?怎样避免他那让人心力交瘁的阴郁心情——这种心情会将他们俩都摧毁?

But now, in a few weeks’ time, her second baby would be born. The first had died, an infant, when her husband first went out to France. She looked with joy and relief to the coming of the second. It would be her salvation. But also she felt some anxiety. She was thirty years old, her husband was a year younger. They both wanted the child very much. Yet she could not help feeling afraid. She had her husband on her hands, a terrible joy to her, and a terrifying burden. The child would occupy her love and attention. And then, what of Maurice? What would he do? If only she could feel that he, too, would be at peace and happy when the child came! She did so want to luxuriate in a rich, physical satisfaction of maternity. But the man, what would he do? How could she provide for him, how avert those shattering black moods of his, which destroyed them both?

她不安地叹息着。但是这个时候,伯蒂·里德给伊莎贝尔来信了。他是她的老朋友,也是她的远房表兄弟,和她一样也是苏格兰人。他们从小一起长大,一直以来,他都是她的朋友,像个哥哥,却比她的几个亲哥哥还要好。她爱他,但不是打算结婚的那种。他们之间是种至亲的关系,非常密切。他们心有灵犀。然而伊莎贝尔却从没想过要嫁给伯蒂。嫁给他就像嫁给自家人一样。

She sighed with fear. But at this time Bertie Reid wrote to Isabel. He was her old friend, a second or third cousin, a Scotchman, as she was a Scotchwoman. They had been brought up near to one another, and all her life he had been her friend, like a brother, but better than her own brothers. She loved him—though not in the marrying sense. There was a sort of kinship between them, an affinity. They understood one another instinctively. But Isabel would never have thought of marrying Bertie. It would have seemed like marrying in her own family.

伯蒂是个律师、学者,一个有学识的苏格兰人,聪明伶俐、爱讽刺、多愁善感,可以拜倒在他爱慕的女人裙下,但又不愿结婚。莫里斯·培文则不同。他出身于上等乡绅世家——离牛津不太远的“格兰奇农庄”。他热情、敏感,也许过于敏感,有些畏畏缩缩——一个大块头,四肢粗笨,一费力前额就通红。仿佛受了血管里那强有力的乡村血统的麻痹,他的头脑比较迟钝。但他的情感却是丰富而敏锐的,他对自己迟钝的反应十分在意。于是他刚好与伯蒂相反。伯蒂的思维比情感敏锐得多,这可不太好。

Bertie was a barrister and a man of letters, a Scotchman of the intellectual type, quick, ironical, sentimental, and on his knees before the woman he adored but did not want to marry. Maurice Pervin was different. He came of a good old country family—the Grange was not a very great distance from Oxford. He was passionate, sensitive, perhaps over-sensitive, wincing—a big fellow

with heavy limbs and a forehead that flushed painfully. For his mind was slow, as if drugged by the strong provincial blood that beat in his veins. He was very sensitive to his own mental slowness, his feelings being quick and acute. So that he was just the opposite to Bertie, whose mind was much quicker than his emotions, which were not so very fine.

他们二人从一开始就不喜欢对方。伊莎贝尔觉得他们应该会合得来。但他们却合不来。她觉得只要他们了解了对方,他们之间就会达成一种难能可贵的谅解。然而,事实并非如此。伯蒂略带讽刺的态度激怒了莫里斯,莫里斯用英格兰式不满来回击这种苏格兰式讥讽,有时不满加深就变成了愚蠢的憎恨。

From the first the two men did not like each other. Isabel felt that they ought to get on together. But they did not. She felt that if only each could have the clue to the other there would be such a rare understanding between them. It did not come off, however. Bertie adopted a slightly ironical attitude, very offensive to Maurice, who returned the Scotch irony with English resentment, a resentment which deepened sometimes into stupid hatred.

这让伊莎贝尔有点困惑。但在事态的发展过程中,她还是接受了这一事实。男人生来就反复无常、不讲道理。因此,当莫里斯第二次去法国的时候,她觉得为了丈夫,自己必须中断与伯蒂的友谊。为此她写了封信给这位律师,表明了自己的意思。伯蒂·里德只是简单回复说,对于这件事,和其他任何事情一样,只要是她的真实想法,他都必须遵从。

This was a little puzzling to Isabel. However, she accepted it in the course of things. Men were made freakish and unreasonable. Therefore, when Maurice was going out to France for the second time, she felt that, for her husband’s sake, she must discontinue her friendship with Bertie. She wrote to the barrister to this effect. Bertram Reid simply replied that in this, as in all other matters, he must obey her wishes, if these were indeed her wishes.

两年来,这对朋友几乎没有什么交往。伊莎贝尔对此颇感自豪,她从未后悔。她有一个强烈的信念,那就是:对夫妻来说,对方才是最重要的,其他的一切都算不了什么。她和莫里斯就是夫妻。他们彼此相爱。他们会有孩子。除了他们夫妻间的幸福,让所有的人、所有的事都消退成微不足道的小事吧。她声称自己非常幸福并且乐意接受丈夫的朋友。她是幸福的,心甘情愿的:幸福的妻子,心甘情愿被占据。不知为何,这些朋友总是窘迫地离开,再也不来了。莫里斯呢,当然,也同伊莎贝尔一样,对这种专一的夫妻关系感到十分满足。

For nearly two years nothing had passed between the two friends. Isabel rather gloried in the fact; she had no compunction. She had one great article of faith, which was, that husband and wife should be so important to one another, that the rest of the world simply did not count. She and Maurice were husband and wife. They loved one another. They would have children. Then let everybody and everything else fade into insignificance outside this connubial felicity. She professed herself quite happy and ready to receive Maurice’s friends. She was happy and ready: the happy wife, the ready woman in possession. Without knowing why, the friends retired abashed and came no more. Maurice, of course, took as much satisfaction in this connubial absorption as Isabel did.

他参与伊莎贝尔的文学创作,而她也培养了对农业和养牛的真正兴趣。在内心深处,她也许是个感情炽热的人,但在生活中,她总是去培养现实的一面,常为自己能处理现实事务而感到骄傲。就这样,这对夫妻度过了五年婚姻生活。最后一年是他失明的一年,也是带着无法言说的亲密的一年。而现在,伊莎贝尔感到一种强大的漠不关心的情绪攫住了自己,有些无精打采。她本想平静地把孩子生下来,在火炉旁打打盹,就这样茫然、机械地过一天算一天。莫里斯就像一团不祥的雷雨云。她得保持清醒去想着他。

He shared in Isabel’s literary activities, sh e cultivated a real interest in agriculture and

cattle-raising. For she, being at heart perhaps an emotional enthusiast, always cultivated the practical side of life, and prided herself on her mastery of practical affairs. Thus the husband and wife had spent the five years of their married life. The last had been one of blindness and unspeakable intimacy. And now Isabel felt a great indifference coming over her, a sort of lethargy. She wanted to be allowed to bear her child in peace, to nod by the fire and drift vaguely, physically, from day to day. Maurice was like an ominous thunder-cloud. She had to keep waking up to remember him.

这时候,伯蒂来了一封短信,问他是否应该为他们逝去的友情竖块墓碑,并对她丈夫的失明真正感到痛惜,这让她感到极度痛苦,感到了再次被唤醒的焦虑和不安。她把这封信念给莫里斯听了。

When a little note came from Bertie, asking if he were to put up a tombstone to their dead friendship, and speaking of the real pain he felt on account of her husband’s loss of sight, she felt a pang a fluttering agitation of re-awakening. And she read the letter to Maurice.

叫他来。”他说。

‘Ask him to come down,’ he said.

“叫伯蒂到这儿来!”她重复说道。

‘Ask Bertie to come here! ’ she re-echoed.

“是的,如果他愿意的话。”

‘Yes—if he wants to. ’

伊莎贝尔停顿了好一会儿。

Isabel paused for a few moments.

“我知道他想来,他会很高兴的。”她回答说,“你呢,莫里斯?“你不介意他来吗?”

‘I know he wants to—he’d only be too glad,’ she replied. ‘But what about you, Maurice? How would you like it? ’

“不介意。”

‘I should like it. ’

“好吧——如果是这样——我本以为你不喜欢他——”

‘Well—in that case—But I thought you didn’t care for him—’

“哦,我不知道。可能现在我对他的看法不一样了。”这个盲人答道。对伊莎贝尔来说这是非常难以理解的。

‘Oh, I don’t know. I might think differently of him now,’ the blind man replied. It was rather abstruse to Isabel.

“好的,亲爱的,”她说,“如果你确定不介意——”

‘Well, dear,’ she said, ‘if you’re quite sure—’

“我十分确定。让他来吧!”莫里斯说。

‘I’m sure enough. Let him come,’ said Maurice.

所以,伯蒂来了,就在今晚,十一月一个下着雨的漆黑之夜。伊莎贝尔坐立不安,又因平素的心烦意乱和优柔寡断而饱受煎熬。她过去常像这样因为疑惑而痛苦,一种犹豫不决的痛苦。由于怀孕的倦怠,这种痛苦本来已经开始消退了。但是现在这种感觉又出现了,她憎恨这种感觉。她极力保持往常平静、沉着和友好的举止,把自己全身都伪装起来。

So Bertie was coming, coming this evening, in the November rain and darkness. Isabel was agitated, racked with her old restlessness and indecision. She had always suffered from this pain of doubt, just an agonizing sense of uncertainty. It had begun to pass off, in the lethargy of maternity. Now it returned, and she resented it. She struggled as usual to maintain her calm,

composed, friendly bearing, a sort of mask she wore over all her body.

一个女佣点亮了桌旁的高脚灯并铺上了桌布。长长的餐厅里灯光昏暗,摆着几件古老的家具,雅致却很庄严。只有那圆桌在灯光下发出柔和的光。它看起来富丽堂皇。雪白的桌布闪着光,四个沉沉的蕾丝花边尖角几乎垂落到了地毯上;米黄色的古老瓷器非常漂亮,上面有大红和深蓝色斑点图案;茶杯很大,形状像钟,茶壶也很华丽。伊莎贝尔看着它,表面上在欣赏。

A woman had lighted a tall lamp beside the table, and spread the cloth. The long dining-room was dim, with its elegant but rather severe pieces of old furniture. Only the round table glowed softly under the light. It had a rich, beautiful effect. The white cloth glistened and dropped its heavy, pointed lace corners almost to the carpet, the china was old and handsome, creamy-yellow, with a blotched pattern of harsh red and deep blue, the cups large and bell-shaped, the teapot gallant. Isabel looked at it with superficial appreciation.

她紧张得难受。她又不由自主地朝向那高高的、没有挂窗帘的窗子看。暮色已近,她只能看到外面一棵巨大的枞树在摇晃着树枝:这似乎是她的想象,并不是她所看见的。雨滴猛烈地敲打着窗户玻璃。啊,为什么她会如此地不安?这两个男人,为何要折磨她呢?他们为什么还不来?为什么让人如此地牵肠挂肚?

Her nerves were hurting her. She looked automatically again at the high, uncurtained windows. In the last dusk she could just perceive outside a huge fir-tree swaying its boughs: it was as if she thought it rather than saw it. The rain came flying on the window panes. Ah, why had she no peace? These two men, why did they tear at her? Why did they not come—why was there this suspense?

她无精打采地坐着,实际上是又焦虑又恼怒。至少莫里斯可以回来,因为他没有什么理由留在外面。她站了起来。看到镜中自己的影像,她带着赏识的微笑瞥了一眼,好像那是自己的一个老朋友一样。她那张鹅蛋脸上神态安详,鼻子略呈钩状。脖子到肩膀间的弧线很美。头发在背后松松地结了个髻,俨然一个温和的母亲形象。一想到自己的这一面,她就会扬起眉毛以及那厚厚的眼皮莞尔一笑,那一刹那,她那张有些变形的圣母般的脸上,那双灰色的眼睛显得又开心又顽皮,还掺着一丝讥讽。

She sat in a lassitude that was really suspense and irritation. Maurice, at least, might come in—there was nothing to keep him out. She rose to her feet. Catching sight of her reflection in a mirror, she glanced at herself with a slight smile of recognition, as if she were an old friend to herself. Her face was oval and calm, her nose a little arched. Her neck made a beautiful line down to her shoulder. With hair knotted loosely behind, she had something of a warm, maternal look. Thinking this of herself, she arched her eyebrows and her rather heavy eyelids, with a little flicker of a smile, and for a moment her grey eyes looked amused and wicked, a little sardonic, out of her transfigured Madonna face.

然后,她恢复了女性特有的坚忍——她确实极其有自制力——微微扭了一下身子,朝门口走去。她的眼睛有点泛红了。

Then, resuming her air of womanly patience —she was really fatally self-determined—she went with a little jerk towards the door. Her eyes were slightly reddened.

她穿过宽阔的大厅,通过最后一道门。然后,她来到了农舍。她几乎被奶场、农舍厨房、后院及皮革的气味给熏晕了,特别是奶场的气味。他们正在烫洗平底锅。她眼前的石板路黑暗、潮湿而泥泞。有光从敞着的厨房门里透出来。她走上前,在门口站住了。农庄的人正在吃茶点,都围坐在离她不远的一张狭长的桌子边,桌子中间放着一盏白色的灯。一张张红光满面的脸,一双双拿着食物的通红的手,一张张不停地咀嚼的红嘴唇,一颗颗凑到茶杯上的脑袋——男人、女人和小孩子——这是吃茶点的时候,填饱肚子的时候。有几个人看见她了。沃

纳姆太太正端着一只黑色的大茶壶,略微蹒跚地绕着椅子背后走,她一时没有注意到她。后来,她突然转过身。

She passed down the wide hall, and through a door at the end. Then she was in the farm premises. The scent of dairy, and of farm-kitchen, and of farm-yard and of leather almost overcame her: but particularly the scent of dairy. They had been scalding out the pans. The flagged passage in front of her was dark, puddled and wet. Light came out from the open kitchen door. She went forward and stood in the doorway. The farm-people were at tea, seated at a little distance from her, round a long, narrow table, in the centre of which stood a white lamp.

“噢,是太太!”她大声喊道,“进来吧,来,进来吧!我们在吃茶点。”她随即拖了张椅子到前面。

‘Oh, is it Madam! ’ she exclaimed. ‘Come in, then, come in! We’re at tea. ’And she dragged forward a chair.

“不,我不进去了,”伊莎贝尔说,“我怕打扰你们吃饭。”

‘No, I won’t come in,’ said Isabel, ‘I’m afraid I interrupt your meal. ’

“不,不,不会,太太,不会的。”

‘No—no—not likely, Madam, not likely. ’

“你知道培文先生来过没?”

‘Hasn’t Mr. Pervin come in, do you know? ’

“我确实说不准!太太,您想他了,是吗?”

‘I’m sure I couldn’t say! Missed him, have you, Madam? ’

“不,我只是想叫他回家。”伊莎贝尔笑着说,好像有点害羞。

‘No, I only wanted him to come in,’ laughed Isabel, as if shyly.

“想找他吗?起来,小子——起来,去——”

‘Wanted him, did ye? Get you, boy—get up, now—’

沃纳姆太太拍了拍一个男孩的肩膀。男孩勉强站起来,嘴里还大口大口地嚼着。

Mrs. Wernham knocked one of the boys on the shoulder. He began to scrape to his feet, chewing largely.

“我肯定他在顶上面的马厩里。”桌子旁的另一个人说。

‘I believe he’s in top stable,’ said another face from the table.

“啊!不,不用起来了。我自己去。”伊莎贝尔说。

‘Ah! No, don’t get up. I’m going myself,’ said Isabel.

“今天晚上天气这么糟糕,您还是别去了。让孩子去吧。小子,快去吧。”沃纳姆太太说道。‘Don’t you go out of a dirty night like this. Let the lad go.Get along wi’ ye, boy,’ said Mrs. Wernham.

“不,不,”伊莎贝尔带着坚决命令的口吻说,“汤姆,继续喝你的茶。沃纳姆太太,我想到对面的马厩里去走走。”

‘No, no,’ said Isabel, with a decision that was always obeyed. ‘Go on with your tea, Tom. I’d like to go across to the stable, Mrs. Wernham. ’

“您听说了吗!”这妇人大声说道。

‘Did ever you hear tell! ’ exclaimed the woman.

“是马车被耽搁了吗?”伊莎贝尔问道。

‘Isn’t the trap late? ’ asked Isabel.

“啊,不是的,”沃纳姆太太说,朝远处那个模糊的大钟瞟了一眼,“不,太太——还足足有

十五到二十分钟——是的,整整一刻钟。”

‘Why, no,’ said Mrs. Wernham, peering into the distance at the tall, dim clock. ‘No, Mada m—we can give it another quarter or twenty minutes yet, good—yes, every bit of a quarter. ’

“啊!天黑得这么早,所以就觉得晚。”伊莎贝尔说。

‘Ah! It seems late when darkness falls so early,’ said Isabel.

“是的,的确是这样。真讨厌,天黑得这么早,”沃纳姆太太答道,难受死了!”

‘It do, that it do. Bother the days, th at they draw in so,’ answered Mrs. Wernham. ’Proper miserable! ’

“是的。”伊莎贝尔说着离开了。

‘They are,’ said Isabel, withdrawing.

她穿上套鞋,裹上一条大格子披肩,戴上一顶男人的毡帽,壮着胆子沿着第一个院子的砌道走去。天很黑。外屋后高大的榆树林里,狂风怒吼着。她到第二个院子时,天似乎更黑了。她都不知如何下脚。她真希望自己带了一盏灯。雨点打在她身上。她一半是喜欢,一半是不想去反抗。

She pulled on her overshoes, wrapped a large tartan shawl around her, put on a man’s felt hat, and ventured out along the causeways of the first yard. It was very dark. The wind was roaring in the great elms behind the outhouses. When she came to the second yard the darkness seemed deeper. She was unsure of her footing. She wished she had brought a lantern. Rain blew against her. Half she liked it, half she felt unwilling to battle.

最后她终于走到了马厩,勉强可以看见那扇门。四周没有一丝亮光。她打开上半扇门朝里看,只见一片漆黑。这个漆黑的夜晚,马匹、氨水以及暖湿的空气,这些气味让她感到惊骇。她侧耳细听,然而除了黑夜以及马匹的骚动之外,什么都听不到。

She reached at last the just visible door of the stable. There was no sign of a light anywhere. Opening the upper half, she looked in: into a simple well of darkness. The smell of horses, and ammonia, and of warmth was startling to her, in that full night. She listened with all her ears, but could hear nothing save the night, and the stirring of a horse.

“莫里斯!”她温柔动听地喊道,虽然心里有点害怕。“莫里斯,你在吗?”

‘Maurice! ’ she called, softly and musically, though she was afraid. ‘Maurice—are you there? ’

黑暗中没有任何反应。她知道风雨夹杂着打在马匹身上,打在这些热血的动物躯体上。她感到不对劲,便走进了马厩,关上下半扇门,紧紧地抓着上半扇门。她站着没动,因为虽然她看不到,但她知道马深色的后腿就在那儿,她感到害怕。有种荒凉的感觉让她感到不安。Nothing came from the darkness. She knew the rain and wind blew in upon the horses, the hot animal life. Feeling it wrong, she entered the stable, and drew the lower half of the door shut, holding the upper part close. She did not stir, because she was aware of the presence of the dark hindquarters of the horses, though she could not see them, and she was afraid. Something wild stirred in her heart.

她费劲地听着。然后,她听到远处传来微弱的声音——似乎非常遥远——平底锅的叮当声和一个男人的声音,他只讲了简短的一句话。应该是莫里斯,在马厩的另一边。她一动不动地站着,等着他从隔门走过来。什么都看不见,那些马又离她那么近,多么可怕呀!

She listened intensely. Then she heard a small noise in the distance—far away, it seemed—the chink of a pan, and a man’s voice speaking a b rief word. It would be Maurice, in the other part of the stable. She stood motionless, waiting for him to come through the partition door. The horses were so terrifyingly near to her, in the invisible.

里面的门闩发出很大的吱嘎声,把她吓了一跳;门开了。她可以听见并感觉到她的丈夫穿过

她身边的马群朝她走来,即使身处黑暗中,他们也能心灵相通。他同马说话时那低沉的声音温柔地触动了她的神经。他离她是多么地近,可就是看不到!这黑暗就像带着强烈的生命力的奇异漩涡,正好席卷了她。她感到眩晕。

The loud jarring of the inner door-latch made her start; the door was opened. She could hear and feel her husband entering and invisibly passing among the horses near to her, in darkness as they were, actively intermingled. The rather low sound of his voice as he spoke to the horses came velvety to her nerves. How near he was, and how invisible! The darkness seemed to be in a strange swirl of violent life, just upon her. She turned giddy.

可她的镇定仍能让她平静而动听地喊道:“莫里斯!

Her presence of mind made her call, quietly and musically: ‘Maurice!

莫里斯——亲爱的!”

Maurice—dea-ar! ’

“哎,”他答道,“是伊莎贝尔吗?”

‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘Isabel? ’

她什么也看不见,但他的声音似乎就在耳边。

She saw nothing, and the sound of his voice seemed to touch her.

“嘿!”她高兴地答道,睁大了眼睛想看清楚他。他仍在忙着照料就近在她身旁的马匹,但她眼前只有一片黑暗。这使她几乎绝望了。

‘Hello! ’ she answered cheerfully, straining her eyes to see him. He was still busy, attending to the horses near her, but she saw only darkness. It made her almost desperate.

“亲爱的,你不回家吗?”她问。

‘Wo n’t you come in, dear? ’ she said.

“嗯,我就回。一会儿就回。看着点——现在!马车还没来吗?”

‘Yes, I’m coming. Just half a minute. Stand over—now! Trap’s not come, has it? ’

“还没有。”伊莎贝尔回答。

‘Not yet,’ said Isabel.

他的声音很愉快,很平常,然而这让她微微联想到马厩。她真希望他会离开。在这样完全看不见他的时候,她对他感到害怕。

His voice was pleasant and ordinary, but it had a slight suggestion of the stable to her. She wished he would come away. Whilst he was so utterly invisible she was afraid of him.

“几点了?”他问。

‘How’s the time? ’ he asked.

“不到六点。”她答道。她不喜欢对着黑暗答话。不久,他走近她,她便退到了门外。

‘Not yet six,’ she replied. She disliked to answer into the dark. Presently he came very near to her, and she retreated out of doors.

“天气突然变了。”他说着,稳稳地走上前去找门。她避到一边。终于,她可以朦朦胧胧地看到他了。

‘The weather blows in here,’ he said, coming steadily forward, feeling for the doors. She s hrank away. At last she could dimly see him.

“伯蒂坐的马车快到了。”他边说,边关上了门。

‘Bertie won’t have much of a drive,’ he said, as he closed the doors.

“确实要不了多久!”她镇定地应道,注视着门口的黑影。

‘He won’t indeed! ’ said Isabel calmly, watching the dark shape at the door.

“把你的胳膊伸给我,亲爱的。”她叫他。

‘Give me your arm, dear,’ she said.

走路的时候,她就把他的胳膊紧紧地贴向自己。但她还渴望看到他、瞧着他。她十分紧张。他挺直身子走着,脸微微向上仰,但他那强有力的、肌肉发达的双腿却古怪地向前探着路。当她靠着他时,她能感觉到他的脚是如此灵活、小心而又坚定地踏在地面上。此时此刻他就像是她在黑暗中的堡垒,仿佛刚从地面升起似的。

She pressed his arm close to her, as she went. But she longed to see him, to look at him. She was nervous. He walked erect, with face rather lifted, but with a curious tentative movement of his powerful, muscular legs. She could feel the clever, careful, strong contact of his feet with the earth, as she balanced against him. For a moment he was a tower of darkness to her, as if he rose out of the earth.

在过道里,他犹豫了,谨慎地走着,当他摸到长凳时,脸上露出一种奇怪的沉默的表情。他重重地坐了下去。他的双肩有点斜,四肢粗壮,强健的双腿似乎很熟悉地面。他的头很小,通常抬得高高的,显得很轻松。当他弯下腰去解开他的绑腿和靴子时,看起来一点也不像个盲人。他的头发是棕色的,有点卷,一双又大又红的手非常灵巧,手腕上暴着根根青筋,大腿和膝盖也显得结实粗大。他站起身时,脸和脖子都涨得通红,太阳穴两边的青筋暴起。她没有看他失明的双眼。

In the house-passage he wavered, and went cautiously, with a curious look of silence about him as he felt for the bench. Then he sat down heavily. He was a man with rather sloping shoulders, but with heavy limbs, powerful legs that seemed to know the earth. His head was small, usually carried high and light. As he bent down to unfasten his gaiters and boots he did not look blind. His hair was brown and crisp, his hands were large, reddish, intelligent, the veins stood out in the wrists; and his thighs and knees seemed massive. When he stood up his face and neck were surcharged with blood, the veins stood out on his temples. She did not look at his blindness.

当他们穿过那扇隔门,进入到自己那宁静美丽的领地时,伊莎贝尔总是非常高兴。在后园那些粗野的动物那边,她有点怕他。当他闻到弥漫在妻子周围那种熟悉却又叫不上名字的气味,一种精致优雅而又非常淡的香味时,他的举止也变了。那香味也许是从花香钵里飘来的。Isabel was always glad when they had passed through the dividing door into their own regions of repose and beauty. She was a little afraid of him, out there in the animal grossness of the back. His bearing also changed, as he smelt the familiar, indefinable odour that pervaded his wife’s surroundings, a delicate, refined scent, very faintly spicy. Perhaps it came from the pot-pourri bowls.

他站在楼梯脚,一动不动,静静地听着。她望着他,心里感到难受。他似乎在听从命运的安排。

He stood at the foot of the stairs, arrested, listening. She watched him, and her heart sickened. He seemed to be listening to fate.

“他还没到,”他说,“我要上去换身衣服。”

‘He’s not here yet,’ he said. ‘I’ll go up and change. ’

“莫里斯,”她说道,“你真希望他来吗?”

‘Maurice,’ she said, ‘you’re not wishing he wouldn’t come, are you? ’

“我也说不清,”他回答,“我感觉自己特别紧张。”

‘I couldn’t quite say,’ he answered. ‘I feel myself rather on the quivive. ’

“我看得出你很紧张。”她说。然后,她踮起脚尖,在他脸上吻了一下。她看到他的嘴角缓缓地放松,露出了一丝微笑。

‘I can see you are,’ she answered. And she reached up and kissed his cheek. She saw his mouth

relax into a slow smile.

“你在笑什么?”她调皮地问。

‘What are you laughing at? ’ she said roguishly.

“你是在安慰我。”他说。

‘You consoling me,’ he answered.

“才不是呢,”她答道,“我为什么要安慰你呢?你知道,我们彼此相爱——你知道,我们多么恩爱!与其他的事情又有什么关系呢?”

‘Nay,’ she answered. ‘Why should I console you? You know we love each other—you know how married we are! What does anything else matter? ’

“丝毫没有,亲爱的。”

‘Nothing at all, my dear. ’

他伸手去摸她的脸,摸着了,便笑了起来。

He felt for her face, and touched it, smiling.

“你还好,是吗?”他焦急地问。

‘You’re all right, aren’t you? ’ he asked, anxiously.

“我好得很,亲爱的!”她回答,“倒是你有时让我有点担心。”

‘I’m wonderfully all right, love,’ she answered. ‘It’s you I am a little troubled about, at times. ’“为什么担心我?”他说,用指尖轻轻地触摸着她的脸。这触摸对她几乎有一种催眠的效果。‘Why me? ’ he said, touching her cheeks delicately with the tips of his fingers. The touch had an almost hypnotizing effect on her.

他上楼去了。她看着他走上去,走入黑暗,因为看不见,所以他走路的方式一成不变。他并不知道楼上走廊的灯是没有点亮的。他以一成不变的步伐走进了黑暗。她听到他进了浴室。He went away upstairs. She saw him mount into the darkness, unseeing and unchanging. He did not know that the lamps on the upper corridor were unlighted. He went on into the darkness with unchanging step. She heard him in the bathroom.

尽管到处一片漆黑,培文却能无意识地在这个熟悉的环境里走来走去。在触到每样物体之前,他似乎就已经知道了它们在那儿。对他来说,能凭着一股先知先觉的灵感,不断晃动身体而穿行于满屋子的东西之中,是件趣事。他想得不多,也不想费神去想。只要能与物质世界保持这种完全直接的肌肤接触,他就很高兴了,他并不希望有视觉意识的干扰。在这种情况下,他十分确信,有时近乎痴迷。生活如潮水般在他身上游走,不断拍打,不断逼近,最后把一切笼入黑暗。伸出手去,触到看不见的物体,就紧紧把它抓住,一经触碰就能占为己有,这是一种乐趣。他没有设法去回忆,去想象。他不想那样做。对他来说,一种新的感知方式会取而代之。

Pervin moved about almost unconsciously in his familiar surroundings, dark though everything was. He seemed to know the presence of objects before he touched them. It was a pleasure to him to rock thus through a world of things, carried on the flood in a sort of blood-prescience. He did not think much or trouble much. So long as he kept this sheer immediacy of blood-contact with the substantial world he was happy, he wanted no intervention of visual consciousness. In this state there was a certain rich positivity, bordering sometimes on rapture. Life seemed to move in him like a tide lapping, and advancing, enveloping all things darkly. It was a pleasure to stretch forth the hand and meet the unseen object, clasp it, and possess it in pure contact. He did not try to remember, to visualize. He did not want to. The new way of consciousness substituted itself in him.

这种状态所带来的充实感通常都让他很快乐,这快乐会在对妻子强烈的爱意中达到顶点。但

有时,这快乐的潮水似乎又会受到阻碍,倒退回来。那时,他心里就像翻江倒海一般,在自己烦乱嘈杂的心情中忍受着煎熬。他越来越害怕这阻碍、这倒退、这内心的嘈杂不安,他似乎已被自己内心这种强烈的矛盾支配了。怎样采取控制和保障的措施呢,这是一个问题。当这个问题逼得他发了疯,他就会捏紧拳头,好像要迫使全世界都屈服于他。然而,这是徒劳。他甚至都不能强迫自己。

The rich suffusion of this state generally kept him happy, reaching its culmination in the consuming passion for his wife. But at times the flow would seem to be checked and thrown back. Then it would beat inside him like a tangled sea, and he was tortured in the shattered chaos of his own blood. He grew to dread this arrest, this throw-back, this chaos inside himself, when he seemed merely at the mercy of his own powerful and conflicting elements. How to get some measure of control or surety, this was the question. And when the question rose maddening in him, he would clench his fists as if he would compel the whole universe to submit to him. But it was in vain. He could not even compel himself.

但是,今晚,他还很平静,尽管会有一小阵一小阵的、毫无来由的恼怒袭遍全身。剃胡子时,他不得不小心谨慎地拿着剃刀,因为他害怕它不跟他一条心。他的听觉也太敏锐了。他听到女人在点走廊的灯,在客房照看火炉。然后,当他走进自己的房间时,他听到马车来了。然后就听到伊莎贝尔的声音,响铃似的,她高声喊道:

Tonight, however, he was still serene, though little tremors of unreasonable exasperation ran through him. He had to handle the razor very carefully, as he shaved, for it was not at one with him, he was afraid of it. His hearing also was too much sharpened. He heard the woman lighting the lamps on the corridor, and attending to the fire in the visitor’s room. And then, as he went to his room he heard the trap arrive. Then came Isabel’s voice, lifted and calling, like a bell ringing: “是你吗,伯蒂?你来了?”

‘Is it you, Bertie? Have you come? ’

风中传来一个男人的声音:

And a man’s voice answered out of the wind:

“你好,伊莎贝尔,是你!”

‘Hello, Isabell There you are. ’

“旅途很辛苦吧?很抱歉,我们派不出一辆带篷的马车。你知道,我根本看不到你。”

‘Have you had a miserable drive? I’m so sorry we couldn’t send a closed carriage. I can’t see you at all, you know. ’

“我就来了。不,我喜欢这样的旅途,就像珀斯郡。嗯,你还好吗?在我看来,你的气色像往常一样好。”

‘I’m coming. No, I liked the drive—it was like Perthshire. Well, how are you? You’re looking fit as ever, as far as I can see. ’

“哦,是的,”伊莎贝尔回答,“我好得不得了,你呢?我觉得,太瘦了——”

‘Oh, yes,’ said Isabel. ‘I’m wonderfully well. How are you? Rather thin, I think—’

“拼命工作——每个人的老口号。不过,我很好,西斯。培文怎么样?他不在?”

‘Worked to death—everybody’s old cry. But I’m all right, Ciss. How’s Pervin? —isn’t he here? ’“哦,在,他在楼上换衣服。嗯,他非常好。把你的湿衣服脱了,我把它们送去烘干。”

‘Oh, yes, he’s upstairs changing. Yes, he’s awfully well. Take off your wet things; I’ll send them to be dried. ’

“你们俩心情怎样?他没有不愉快?”

‘And how are you both, in spirits? He doesn’t fret? ’

“没,没有,一点也没。而且恰恰相反,真的。我们过得非常幸福,简直难以置信。连我都不明白——如此美好:亲密又和谐——”

‘No—no, not at all. No, on the contrary, really. We’ve been wonderfully happy, incredibly. It’s more than I can understand—so wonderful: the nearness, and the peace—’

“啊!噢,那真是个好消息——”

‘Ah! Well, that’s awfully good news—’

他们走开了。培文什么也听不到了。然而,听到他们轻快的话语,一种孩子气的孤独感朝他涌来。他仿佛被排斥在外——像个被遗弃的小孩。他没有方向、孤立无援,不知道自己要去做什么。他突然感到凄凉无助。他慌里慌张地摸索着穿上了衣服,十足的孩子气。他不喜欢伯蒂说话时的苏格兰口音,以及伊莎贝尔有点反应过头的说话方式。他不喜欢苏格兰人话语里那自满的咕噜声。他极其不喜欢伊莎贝尔谈到他们的幸福和亲密时那油嘴滑舌的样子。这让他畏缩了。他焦躁不安,像个孩子一样不知所措,他几乎有着孩子式的恋旧情结,希望被融入到生活圈子中。但同时他又是个男人,又黑又结实,而且自身的缺陷让他非常暴躁。由于致命的缺陷,他不能完全独立,而不得不依靠另一个人的支持。正是这种依赖让他愤怒。他恨伯蒂·里德,同时他也知道这种恨毫无意义,他知道这是他自身缺陷所导致的结果。They moved away. Pervin heard no more. But a childish sense of desolation had come over him, as he heard their brisk voices. He seemed shut out—like a child that is left out. He was aimless and excluded, he did not know what to do with himself. The helpless desolation came over him. He fumbled nervously as he dressed himself, in a state almost of childishness. He disliked the Scotch accent in Bertie’s speech, and the slight response it found on Isabel’s tongue. He disliked the slight purr of complacency in the Scottish speech. He disliked intensely the glib way in which Isabel spoke of their happiness and nearness. It made him recoil. He was fretful and beside himself like a child, he had almost a childish nostalgia to be included in the life circle. And at the same time he was a man, dark and powerful and infuriated by his own weakness. By some fatal flaw, he could not be by himself, he had to depend on the support of another. And this very dependence enraged him. He hated Bertie Reid, and at the same time he knew the hatred was nonsense, he knew it was the outcome of his own weakness.

他下楼了。伊莎贝尔独自一人在餐厅。她看着他走进来,直着头,两脚试探着前行。他看起来如此血气方刚,如此健康,同时,也完全废了。废了——这就是闪现在她脑海中的词。也许是他的伤疤让她想到了这个词。

He went downstairs. Isabel was alone in the dining-room. She watched him enter, head erect, his feet tentative. He looked so strong-blooded and healthy, and, at the same time, cancelled. Cancelled—that was the word that flew across her mind. Perhaps it was his scars suggested it. “莫里斯,你听到伯蒂来了,是吗?”她说。

‘You heard Bertie come, Maurice? ’ she said.

“是的——他不在吗?”

‘Yes—isn’t he here? ’

“他在他的房间。他看起来又瘦又累。”

‘He’s in his room. He looks very thin and worn. ’

“我想他工作太拼命了。”

‘I suppose he works himself to death. ’

一个女佣端着托盘进来了,不一会儿,伯蒂下来了。他皮肤有点黑,小个子,有着宽宽的前额、瘦削的身材、稀疏的头发和忧伤的大眼睛。他的表情异常忧伤——几乎有点可笑。他长着两条奇特的短腿。

A woman came in with a tray—and after a few minutes Bertie came down. He was a little dark man, with a very big forehead, thin, wispy hair, and sad, large eyes. His expression was inordinately sad—almost funny. He had odd, short legs.

伊莎贝尔看着他在门后犹豫不决,紧张地瞟着她的丈夫。培文听到了,转过身来。

Isabel watched him hesitate under the door, and glance nervously at her husband. Pervin heard him and turned.

“你可来了。”伊莎贝尔说,“来,我们吃饭吧。”

‘Here you are, now,’ said Isabel. ‘Come, let us eat. ’

伯蒂走过莫里斯身旁。

Bertie went across to Maurice.

他走上前,说道:“你好,培文。”

‘How are you, Pervin,’ he said, as he advanced.

这个失明的男人空空地伸出一只手,伯蒂握住了它。

The blind man stuck his hand out into space, and Bertie took it.

“很好。很高兴你能来。”莫里斯说。

‘Very fit. Glad you’ve come,’ said Maurice.

伊莎贝尔瞟了一眼他们便把目光移开了,好像看着他们会使她受不了。

Isabel glanced at them, and glanced away, as if she could not bear to see them.

“来吧,”她喊道,“来吃饭吧。你们两个都不饿吗?我可是饿坏了。”

‘Come,’ she said. ‘Come to table. Aren’t you both awfully hungry? I am, tremendously. ’

他们坐了下来,伯蒂说:“让你们久等了。”

‘I’m afraid you waited for me,’ said Bertie, as they sat down.

莫里斯像磐石一般正襟危坐,神情淡漠,非常怪异。伊莎贝尔一看见他这样,心跳就会加快。Maurice had a curious mon olithic way of sitting in a chair, erect and distant. Isabel’s heart always beat when she caught sight of him thus.

“没有,”她回答伯蒂,“我们只比平常晚了一点点。我们吃的这是下午茶,而不是晚餐。你介意吗?这样我们可以有个美好的长夜,无人打搅。”

‘No,’ she replied to Bertie. ‘We’re very little later than usual. We’re ha ving a sort of high tea, not dinner. Do you mind? It gives us such a nice long evening, uninterrupted. ’

“我喜欢这样的夜晚。”伯蒂说。

‘I like it,’ said Bertie.

莫里斯用奇怪的小幅度动作摸索着他的位置、刀叉和餐巾,就像一只猫在抚弄它的床。他在努力记住整副餐具的位置。他笔直地坐着,让人捉摸不透,看起来很遥远。伯蒂注视着盲人一动不动的外形:他又大又红的双手有敏锐的触知感,而奇怪的是伤疤上方的眉毛却愚笨无知地沉默着。他艰难地把眼光移向别处,无意识地从桌上拿起一个插着紫罗兰的水晶小碗,放到了鼻子底下。

Maurice was feeling, with curious little movements, almost like a cat kneading her bed, for his place, his knife and fork, his napkin. He was getting the whole geography of his cover into his consciousness. He sat erect and incrutable, remote-seeming. Bertie watched the static figure of the blind man, the delicate tactile discernment of the large, ruddy hands, and the curious mindless silence of the brow, above the scar. With difficulty he looked away, and without knowing what he did, picked up a little crystal bowl of violets from the table, and held them to his nose.

“好香啊,”他说,“从哪里弄来的?”

‘They are sweet-scented,’ he said. ‘Where do they come from? ’

“花园里——窗户下面。”伊莎贝尔答道。

‘From the garden—under the win dows,’ said Isabel.

“都年底了——还这么香!你还记得贝尔姨妈家南墙下的紫罗兰吗?”

‘So late in the year—and so fragrant! Do you remember the violets under Aunt Bell’s south wall? ’

两个老朋友相视而笑,伊莎贝尔的眼睛亮了起来。

The two friends looked at each other and exchanged a smile, Isabel’s eyes lighting up.

“怎么不记得?”她应道,“她不是很古怪嘛!”

‘Don’t I? ’ she replied. ‘Wasn’t she queer! ’

“一个奇怪的老姑娘,”伯蒂笑着说,“咱家里可有许多奇闻趣事,伊莎贝尔。”

‘A curious old girl,’ laughed Bertie. ‘There’s a streak of freakishness in the family, Isabel. ’

“啊,但是你和我之间没有,伯蒂。”伊莎贝尔说。当伯蒂正要放下这些花时,她加了一句:“把它们递给莫里斯,好吗?亲爱的,你闻过这些紫罗兰吗?嗯!它们真香!”

‘Ah—but not in you and me, Bertie,’ said Isabel. ‘Give them to Maurice, will you? ’ she added, as Bertie was putting down the flowers. ‘Have you smelled the violets, dear? Do! —they are so scented. ’

莫里斯伸出手,伯蒂把这个小碗放在他那粗大温暖的手指上。莫里斯的手一把包住了律师纤细白皙的手指。伯蒂小心翼翼地抽回了手。然后,他们两个就看着这个盲人嗅着紫罗兰。他低下头,似乎在思考。伊莎贝尔等待着。

Maurice held out his hand, and Bertie placed the tiny bowl against his large, warm-looking fingers. Maurice’s hand closed over the thin white fingers of the barrister. Bertie carefully extricated himself. Then the two watched the blind man smelling the violets. He bent his head and seemed to be thinking. Isabel waited.

终于,她不安地问道:“不香吗,莫里斯?”

‘Aren’t they sweet, Maurice? ’ she said at last, anxiously.

“很香。”他说。接着他递过碗。伯蒂接下了。他和伊莎贝尔都有点害怕,很是困扰。

‘Very,’ he said. And he held out the bowl. Bertie took it. Both he and Isabel were a little afraid, and deeply disturbed.

他们继续吃下午茶。伊莎贝尔和伯蒂时不时聊着。盲人静默不语。他不断用刀尖迅速巧妙地触碰着他的食物,把它们切成了不规则的小块。他受不了别人的帮助。伊莎贝尔和伯蒂都感到难过,伊莎贝尔想知道这是为什么。当她独自和莫里斯相处时,她并不难过。伯蒂让她产生了一种奇怪的感觉。

The meal continued. Isabel and Bertie chatted spasmodically. The blind man was silent. He touched his food repeatedly, with quick, delicate touches of his knife-point, then cut irregular bits. He could not bear to be helped. Both Isabel and Bertie suffered: Isabel wondered why. She did not suffer when she was alone with Maurice. Bertie made her conscious of a strangeness.

下午茶结束后,他们三人把椅子拖到火边,坐下来聊天。玻璃水瓶就放在手边不远的桌子上。伊莎贝尔敲着火中的木头,一团团耀眼的火星便直向上蹿进了烟囱。从伊莎贝尔举止中,伯蒂注意到她有些疲倦了。

After the meal the three drew their chairs to the fire, and sat down to talk. The decanters were put on a table near at hand. Isabel knocked the logs on the fire, and clouds of brilliant sparks went up the chimney. Bertie noticed a slight weariness in her bearing.

“伊莎贝尔,孩子马上要出世了,你高兴吗?”他说。

‘You will be glad when your child comes now, Isabel? ’ he said.

她抬头看着他,微微一笑。

She looked up to him with a quick wan smile.

“嗯,高兴啊,”她回答道,“时间似乎开始变慢了。是的,我非常高兴。莫里斯,你也是,对吧?”她补充道。

‘Yes, I shall be glad,’ she answered. ‘It begins to seem long. Yes, I shall be very glad. So wil l you, Maurice, won’t you? ’ she added.

“是,我很高兴。”她的丈夫回答。

‘Yes, I shall,’ replied her husband.

“我们都如此期待能有个孩子。”她说。

‘We are both looking forward so much to having it,’ she said.

“嗯,那当然。”伯蒂说。

‘Yes, of course,’ said Bertie.

他是个单身汉,比伊莎贝尔大三四岁。他住着漂亮的房子,从那里可以俯瞰江河,房子由一个忠实的苏格兰男仆看管。他有女性朋友——并非情人,只是朋友。只要没有求爱与婚姻的风险,他就会对某些好女人表示始终如一的仰慕,也会殷勤有礼地喜欢不少女人。然而,一旦她们有迹象要超出他的正常界限,他就会立即抽身并厌恶她们。

He was a bachelor, three or four years older than Isabel. He lived in beautiful rooms overlooking the river, guarded by a faithful Scottish man-servant. And he had his friends among the fair sex—not lovers, friends. So long as he could avoid any danger of courtship or marriage, he adored a few good women with constant and unfailing homage, and he was chivalrously fond of quite a number. But if they seemed to encroach on him, he withdrew and detested them.

伊莎贝尔非常了解他,了解他固执和善良的美德,以及他那无可救药的缺点,这使得他无法与任何女性达到亲密接触的程度。他感到羞愧,因为他不能结婚,不能与任何女人有身体接触。他想这么做。但他做不到。他的内心感到害怕、无助,甚至极度恐惧。他放弃了希望,不再奢望可以摆脱这一弱点。从此,他会是个杰出的成功的律师,也会是个德高望重的文人,一个有钱人,一位社会名流。在心里他感觉自己已经中性化了,这没什么。

Isabel knew him very well, knew his beautiful constancy, and kindness, also his incurable weakness, which made him unable ever to enter into close contact of any sort. He was ashamed of himself, because he could not marry, could not approach women physically. He wanted to do so. But he could not. At the centre of him he was afraid, helplessly and even brutally afraid. He had given up hope, had ceased to expect any more that he could escape his own weakness. Hence he was a brilliant and successful barrister, also litterateur of high repute, a rich man, and a great social success. At the centre he felt himself neuter, nothing.

伊莎贝尔非常了解他。即使是爱慕他的时候,她也会鄙薄他。看着他忧郁的脸,短小的腿,她觉得看不起他。她看着他深灰色的双眸,带着孩子般的离奇直觉;她爱他。他有着非凡的理解力——但她一点也不害怕他的理解力。她以屈尊俯就的态度对待他。

Isabel knew him well. She despised him even while she admired him. She looked at his sad face, his little short legs, and felt contempt of him. She looked at his dark grey eyes, with their uncanny, almost childlike intuition, and she loved him. He understood amazingly—but she had no fear of his understanding. As a man she patronized him.

她转身看着漠然、沉默的丈夫。他坐在那里,向后靠着,双手交叉,脸稍稍向上抬起。他的膝盖又直又粗。她叹了口气,拿起火钳,拨了拨火,又蹿起了一团温和明亮的火星。

And she turned to the impassive, silent figure of her husband. He sat leaning back, with folded

arms, and face a little uptilted. His knees were straight and massive. She sighed, picked up the poker, and again began to prod the fire, to rouse the clouds of soft, brilliant sparks.

“伊莎贝尔告诉我,”伯蒂突然开始说,“你并没有因为失明而痛苦不堪。”

‘Isabel tells me,’ Bertie began suddenly, ‘that you have not suffered unbearably from the loss of sight. ’

莫里斯坐直身子,但手仍然交叉着。

Maurice straightened himself to attend, but kept his arms folded.

“是的,”他回答说,“还撑得住。你知道的,一个人经常要和命运抗争的。但有回报。”

‘No,’ he said, ‘not unbearably. Now and again one struggles against it, you know. But there are compensations. ’

“他们说要是全聋就更糟糕了。”伊莎贝尔说。

‘They say it is much worse to be stone deaf,’ said Isabel.

“我相信是的。”伯蒂说。“有什么回报?”他接着对莫里斯说道。

‘I believe it is,’ said Bertie. ‘Are there compensations? ’ he added, to Maurice.

“有。你不再为很多事而操心了。”莫里斯又直了直身子,舒展着后背强健的肌肉,仰着脸,向后靠了靠。

‘Yes. You cease to bother about a great many things. ’Again Maurice stretched his figure, stretched the strong muscles of his back, and leaned backwards, with uplifted face.

“那也是种解脱。”伯蒂说,“但是,用什么事打发烦恼时光呢?什么东西能取代四处活动?”‘And that is a relief,’ said Bertie. ‘But what is there in place of the bothering? What replaces the activity? ’

一阵沉默。最后,盲人漫不经心地随口答道:“哦,我也不知道。

There was a pause. At length the blind man replied, as out of a negligent, unattentive thinking: ‘Oh, I don't know.

当你动不了时也会有很多事可做呢。”

There’s a good deal when you’re not active. ’

“有吗?”伯蒂问,“确切地说,是什么呢?对我而言,似乎没有思考和活动就意味着一无所有。”

‘Is there? ’ said Bertie. ‘What, exactly? It always seems to me that when there is no thought and no action, there is nothing. ’

莫里斯又没有马上回答。

Again Maurice was slow in replying.

“会有些事情的,”他说,“我不能告诉你是什么。”

‘There is something,’ he replied. ‘I couldn’t tell you what it is. ’

谈话再度停止,伊莎贝尔和伯蒂开始说长道短,缅怀往事,盲人沉默了。

And the talk lapsed once more, Isabel and Bertie chatting gossip and reminiscence, the blind man silent.

最后,莫里斯不安地站了起来,那是一个高大、突兀的身躯。他感到紧张、拘束。他想离开。At length Maurice rose restlessly, a big, obtrusive figure. He felt tight and hampered. He wanted to go away.

“我想去和沃纳姆聊聊,”他说,“你们不介意吧?”

‘Do you mind,’ he said, ‘if I go and speak to Wernham? ’

“不介意——去吧,亲爱的。”伊莎贝尔说。

‘No—go along, dear,’ said Isabel.

他出去了。两个朋友突然沉默了。最后,伯蒂说:

And he went out. A silence came over the two friends. At length Bertie said:

“不论如何,这是个巨大的损失,茜茜。”

‘Nevertheless, it is a great deprivation, Cissie. ’

“是啊,伯蒂。我明白。”

‘It is, Bertie. I know it is. ’

“始终少了某种东西。”伯蒂说。

‘S omething lacking all the time,’ said Bertie.

“是的,我知道。但是——但——莫里斯是对的。有些东西就在那儿,但你永远不知道它的存在,你也表达不出。”

‘Yes, I know. And yet—and yet—Maurice is right. There is something else, something there, which you never knew was there, and which you can’t express. ’

“是什么呢?”伯蒂问。

‘What is there? ’ asked Bertie.

“我不知道——很难说清楚——但那东西既强烈又直接。莫里斯在的时候会有些奇怪的东西——说不清是什么——但我却不能没它。我觉得它似乎能催人入眠。但当我们单独在一起时我什么都不缺;内心似乎非常充足、丰富,你知道的。”

‘I don’t know—it’s awfully hard to define it—but something strong and immediate. There’s something strange in Ma urice’s presence—indefinable—but I couldn’t do without it. I agree that it seems to put one’s mind to sleep. But when we’re alone I miss nothing; it seems awfully rich, almost splendid, you know. ’

“很抱歉,我不明白。”伯蒂说。

‘I’m afraid I don’t follow,’ said Bertie.

他们随意地谈论着。外面的风刮得很大,因为金黄的窗板关得紧紧的,雨打在窗玻璃上便发出尖锐的鼓点声。木头慢慢地燃烧着,很烫,但几乎看不见火焰。伯蒂看起来局促不安,眼睛周围布满了黑眼圈。伊莎贝尔斜斜地靠着,眼睛看着火,因为即将临盆,所以显得很丰满。她卷曲的头发松散地盘在脑后,让这个男人觉得很合意。但她心里有种奇怪的忧伤,那是过去无数个夜晚所经历过的忧伤。

They talked desultorily. The wind blew loudly outside, rain chattered on the window-panes, making a sharp, drum-sound, because of the closed, mellow-golden shutters inside. The logs burned slowly, with hot, almost invisible small flames. Bertie seemed uneasy, there were dark circles round his eyes. Isabel, rich with her approaching maternity, leaned looking into the fire. Her hair curled in odd, loose strands, very pleasing to the man. But she had a curious feeling of old woe in her heart, old, timeless night-woe.

“我认为我们在某个方面都是有缺陷的。”伯蒂说。

‘I suppose we’re all deficient somewhere,’ said Bertie.

“我也这么想。”伊莎贝尔疲倦地说,

‘I suppose so,’ said Isabel wearily.

“天啊,那是迟早的事。”

‘Damned, sooner or later. ’

“我不知道,”她振了振精神说,“我感觉很不错,你知道的。这个孩子的到来似乎使我对一切事情都漠不关心,只有平静。我感觉没什么事情可烦的,你知道的。”

‘I don’t know,’ she said, rousing herself. ‘I feel quite all right, you know. The child coming seems to make me indifferent to everything, just placid. I can’t feel that there’s anything to trouble

about, you know. ’

“可以说那是好事。”他慢慢地答道。

‘A good thing, I should say,’ he replied slowly.

“是的。我认为这是很自然的。要是感觉不必为莫里斯操心的话,我应该会完全满足——”‘Well, t here it is. I suppose it’s just Nature. If only I felt I needn’t trouble about Maurice, I should be perfectly content—’

“但是你感到你必须为他操心吗?”

‘But you feel you must trouble about him? ’

“是的——我不知道——”她甚至讨厌费力气说话了。

‘Well—I don’t know—’ She even resented this much e ffort.

夜晚渐渐过去。伊莎贝尔看着时钟。“我说,”她说道,“已经快十点了。莫里斯能去哪儿呢?后面那些人肯定都睡了。我失陪一下。”

The evening passed slowly. Isabel looked at the clock. ‘I say,’ she said. ‘It’s nearly ten o’clock. Where can Maurice be? I’m sure they’re all in bed at the back. Excuse me a moment. ’

她走出去,立即又回来了。

She went out, returning almost immediately.

“门都关了,一片漆黑。”她说,“不知道他在哪儿。一定是去农场了——”

‘It’s all shut up and in darkness,’ she said. ‘I wonder where he is. He must have gone out to the farm—’

伯蒂看着她。

Bertie looked at her.

“我想他会回来的。”他说。

‘I suppose he’ll come in,’ he said.

“我想是吧,”她说,“但是他这时候一般不会在外面了。”

‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘But it’s unusual for him to be out now. ’

“想要我出去看看吗?”

‘Would you like me to go out and see? ’

“好吧——如果你不介意的话。本来该我去的,但——”她不想动。

‘Well—if you wouldn’t mind. I’d go, but—’ She did not want to make the physical effort.

伯蒂穿了件旧大衣,带上了提灯。他从侧门出去了。晚上狂风呼啸,到处都是湿漉漉的,他退缩了。如此恶劣的天气让他感到紧张:到处都湿乎乎的,让他觉得自己像个傻子。虽极不情愿,他还是坚持住了。一只狗对着他狂吠。每间房子他都挨个看了看。最后,他打开中间谷仓上边的那扇门,听到了碾磨的声音。他提起提灯朝里看,看见莫里斯只穿了件衬衣,正站在那里听着什么,手握着碎浆机的手柄。他正在将堆在身后昏暗角落里的一推甜菜根捣成浆。

Bertie put on an old overcoat and took a lantern. He went out from the side door. He shrank from the wet and roaring night. Such weather had a nervous effect on him: too much moisture everywhere made him feel almost imbecile. Unwilling, he went through it all. A dog barked violently at him. He peered in all the buildings. At last, as he opened the upper door of a sort of intermediate barn, he heard a grinding noise, and looking in, holding up his lantern, saw Maurice, in his shirt-sleeves, standing listening, holding the handle of a turnip-pulper. He had been pulping sweet roots, a pile of which lay dimly heaped in a corner behind him.

“沃纳姆,是你吗?”莫里斯问,侧耳听着。

‘That you, Wernham? ’ said Maurice, listening.

“不,是我。”伯蒂说。

‘No, it’s me,’ said Bertie.

一只半野生的灰色大猫正在蹭着莫里斯的腿。盲人俯身摸了摸猫身子。看着这情景,伯蒂不知不觉地走了进去并关上了身后的门。他站在谷仓高处,左右两侧是走廊,后面是牛棚。他看着他缓慢地俯身抚摸着那只大猫。

A large, half-wild grey cat was rubbing at Maurice’s leg. The blind man stooped to rub its sides. Bertie watched the scene, then unconsciously entered and shut the door behind him. He was in a high sot of barn-place, from which, right and left, ran off the corridors in front of the stalled cattle. He watched the slow, stooping motion of the other man, as he caressed the great cat.

莫里斯直起身。

Maurice straightened himself.

“你来找我吗?”他问。

‘You came to look for me? ’ he said.

“伊莎贝尔有点担心。”伯蒂说。

‘Isabel was a little uneasy,’ said Bertie.

“我会回去的。我喜欢摆弄这些活计。”

‘I’ll come in. I like messing about doing these jobs. ’

那猫抬起它的左前腿,伸长了靠在他的腿上,爪子亲昵地抓着他的大腿。他把它的爪子从他的腿上移开。

The cat had reared her sinister, feline length against his leg, clawing at his thigh affectionately. He lifted her claws out of his flesh.

“我希望我在格兰奇这儿不会打扰到你的生活。”伯蒂有点害羞,不自然地说。

‘I hope I’m not in your way at all at the Grange here,’ said Bertie, rather shy and stiff.

“我的生活?不,一点也不。我很高兴有个人可以和伊莎贝尔聊天。我担心是我打扰了你们。我知道我不是个活跃的同伴。伊莎贝尔很好,不是吗?她没有不开心,是吗?”

‘My way? No, not a bit. I’m glad Isabel has somebody to talk to. I’m afraid it’s I who am in the way. I know I’m not very lively company. Isabel’s all right, don’t you think? She’s not unhappy, is she? ’

“我想是的。”

‘I don’t think so. ’

“她说什么了吗?”

‘What does she say? ’

“她说她很满足——只是有点担心你。”

‘She says she’s very content—only a little troubled about you. ’

“为什么担心我?”

‘Why me? ’

“也许是担心你会乱想。”伯蒂小心谨慎地说。

‘Perhaps afraid that you might brood,’ said Bertie, cautiously.

“她不必为此担心的。”他继续用手指抚摸着猫没精打采的灰脑袋。“她总和我单独呆在这里,我倒是担心她会发现我是个负担。”他接着说。

‘She needn’t be afraid of that. ’He continued to caress the flattened grey head of the cat with his fingers. ‘What I am a bit afraid of,’ he resumed, ‘is that she’ll find me a dead weight, always alone with me down here. ’

”我觉得你不必这么想。”伯蒂说,尽管这正是他所担心的。

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