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小妮子乖乖81

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lesson8-10 人生的一课 快一年了,大部分时间我都泡在家里、店铺、学校和教堂里,就像一块旧饼干,又脏又难以下咽。 For nearly a year, I sopped around the house, the Store, the school and the church, like an old biscuit, dirty and inedible. 这时我遇到或者说认识了抛给我第一根救生索的那位夫人。 Then I met, or rather got to know, the lady who threw me first lifeline. 波萨?弗劳尔斯夫人是斯坦普司黑人区中的出类拔萃的人物。 Mrs. Bertha Flowers was the aristocrat of Black Stamps. 她动作优雅,即使在最冷的天气里也不缩手缩脚,而在阿肯色州的夏日里,她似乎又有属于自己的微风环绕在她的身旁,给她带来凉爽。 She had the grace of control to appear warm in the coldest weather, and one the Arkansas summer days it seemed she had a private breeze which swirled around, cooling her. 她的皮肤深黑迷人,如果被挂住就会像李子皮一样剥落,但没有人敢离她近点,碰皱她的衣服,更不要说挂住她的皮肤了。 Her skin was a rich black that would have peeled like a plum if snagged, but then no one would have thought of getting close enough to Mrs. Flowers to ruffle her dress, let alone snag her skin. 她不太喜欢亲近,另外她还带着手套。 She didn't encourage familiarity. She wore gloves too. 她是我所知道的为数不多的有气质的女士之一,并且是我做人的楷模,影响了我一生。 She was one of the few gentlewomen I have ever known, and has remained throughout my life the measure of what a human being can be. 我被她深深地吸引,因为她像是我从没有亲身遇到过的那些人。 She appealed to me because she was like people I had never met personally. 她就像英国小说中的女人,走在沼泽地里(不管是什么地方),一群忠实的狗奔跑在她们的身旁,并与她们保持一定的距离以示尊敬。 Like women in English novels who walked the moors (whatever they were) with their loyal dogs racing at a respectful distance. 她就像坐在炉火熊熊的壁炉前的女人,不时从装满蛋糕和松脆饼的银盘中取东西喝。 Like the women who sat in front of roaring fireplaces, drinking tea incessantly from silver trays full of scones and crumpets. 她就像走在“石南丛生的荒野”中,读着用摩洛哥山羊皮装订的书的那些女人,而且有用连字符隔开的两个姓。 Women who walked over the “heath” and read morocco-bound books and had two last names divided by a hyphen. 可以肯定地说,是她本人使我为自己是个黑人而感到骄傲。 It would be safe to say that she made me proud to be Negro, just by being herself. 那个在我的记忆中如甜奶般鲜活的夏日的午后,她来我们的店里买东西。 One summer afternoon, sweet-milk fresh in my memory, she stopped at the Store to buy provisions. 换了另外一个同她身体情况和年龄相当的黑人妇女就会一只手把纸袋拎回家去,但奶奶却说,“弗劳尔斯大姐,让贝利帮你把东西送回家去。” Another Negro woman of her health and age would have been expected to carry the paper sacks home in one hand, but Momma said, “Sister Flowers, I'll send Bai-ley up to your house with these things.” “谢谢您,汉德森夫人。但我想让玛格丽特帮我送回去。” “Thank you, Mrs. Henderson. I'd prefer Marguerite, though.” 她说我名字时,我的名字也变得动听起来。 My name was beautiful when she said it. “反正我一直想跟她谈一谈。”她们互相对视了一下,其间的意思只有她们这些同龄人才明白。 “I've been mean-ins to talk to her, anyway.” They gave each other agegroup looks. 在石头路旁有一条小路,弗劳尔斯夫人在前面摆动着胳膊,在碎石路上小心地走着。 There was a little path beside the rocky road, and Mrs. Flowers walked in front swinging her arms and picking her way over the stones. 她没有回头,对我说,“听说你在学校里功课很好,玛格丽特,但那都是笔头作业。老师说他们很难让你在课堂上发言。” She said, without turning her head, to me, “I hear you're doing very good school work, Marguerite, but that it's all written. The teachers report that they have trouble getting you to talk in class. 我们走过左边三角形的农场,路变宽了,可以允许我们并排走在一起。但我畏缩地走在后面,想着那些没有问出口也无法回答的问题。 We passed the triangular farm on our left and the path widened to allow us to walk together. I hung back in the separate unasked and unanswerable questions. “过来和我一起走,玛格丽特。”我无法拒绝,尽管我很想。 “Come and walk along with me, Marguerite.” I couldn't have refused even if I wanted to. 她把我的名字叫得如此动听。或者更确切地说,她把每个词都说得这样清晰,我相信就是一个不懂英语的外国人也能听懂她的话。 She pronounced my name so nicely. Or more correctly, she spoke each word with such clarity that I was certain a foreigner who didn't understand English could have understood her. “现在没有人要强迫你说话——恐怕也没人能做到这一点。但是你记住,语言是人类进行沟通的方式,是语言将人类同低等动物区分开来。” “Now no one is going to make you talk —possibly no one can. But bear in mind, language is man's way of communicating with his fellow man and it is language alone which separates him from the lower animals.” 这对我来说是一个全新的观点,我需要些时间认真考虑一下。 That was a totally new idea to me, and I would need time to think about it. “你奶奶说你读了很多书,一有机会就读。这很好,但还不够好,言语的含义不仅是写在纸上的那点。它需要人的声音赋予它深层含义的细微差别。” “Your grandmother says you read a lot. Every chance you get. That's good, but not good enough. Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with the shades of deeper meaning. ” 我记住了有关声音赋予言语更多内涵的话。这些话听起来是那么正确,那么富有诗意。 I memorized the part about the human voice infusing words. It seemed so valid and poetic. 她说她要给我一些书,要我不仅阅读这些书,还要大声朗读。 She said she was going to give me some books and that I not only must read them, I must read them aloud. 她建议我用尽可能丰富的语调去读每一句话。 She suggested that i try to make a sentence sound in as many different ways as possible. “如果你草草读完这些书就还给我的话,我不接受任何理由。” “I'll accept no excuse if you return a book to me that has been badly handled.” 我想像不出如果我真的没有认真读弗劳尔斯夫人的某一本书,将会受到怎样的惩罚。让我去死恐怕是太仁慈太干脆了。 My imagination boggled at the punishment I would deserve if in fact I did abuse a book of Mrs. Flowers'。 Death would be too kind and brief. 房子里的气味让我有点吃惊。 The odors in the house surprised me. 不知什么缘故,我从来没有将弗劳尔斯夫人与食物、吃饭或是平常人的琐事联系起来。 Somehow I had never connected Mrs. Flowers with food or eating or any other common experience of common people. 那里一定也有户外厕所,但我一点也记不起来了。 There must have been an outhouse, too, but my mind never recorded it. 她打开门,香草的芬芳迎面扑来。 The sweet scent of vanilla had met us as she opened the door. “今天早上我做了些茶点。你瞧,我早打算好要请你来吃点心、柠檬水,这样我们就可以聊一会了。柠檬水正放在冰盒子里呢。” “I made tea cookies this morning. You see, I had planned to invite you for cookies and lemonade so we could have this little chat. The lemonade is in the icebox.” 这意味着弗劳尔斯夫人平时也买冰,而镇上大多数人家只是在星期六下午才买冰,放在木头做的冰淇凌冷藏机内,整个夏天也不过只买几次。 It followed that Mrs. Flowers would have ice on an ordinary day, when most families in our town bought ice late on Saturdays only a few times during the summer to be used in the wooden ice-cream freezers. “坐吧,玛格丽特,坐到那边桌子旁。” “Have a seat, Marguerite. Over there by the table.” 她端着一个用茶布盖着的盘。 She carried a platter covered with a tea towel. 尽管她事先说过她已经好久没有做点心了,我还是相信就像她的其他任何东西一样,点心也会十分精美可口。 Although she warned that she hadn't tried her hand at baking sweets for some time, I was certain that like everything else about her the cookies would be perfect. 我吃点心的时候,她开始给我讲我们后来称之为“我生活中的一课”的第一部分。 As I ate she began the first of what we later called “my lesson in living.” 她告诉我不能宽容无知,但可以理解文盲。 She said that must always be intolerant of ignorance but understanding of illiteracy. 她认为有些人虽然没有上过学,但却比大学教授更有知识,甚至更聪明。 That some people, unable to go to school, were more educated and even more intelligent than college professors. 她还鼓励我认真倾听被乡下人称为常识的一些俗语。她说这些朴实谚语是一代代人集体智慧的结晶。 She encouraged me to listen carefully to what country people called mother wit. That in those homely sayings was couched the collective wisdom of generations 我吃完点心后,她把桌子打扫干净,从书架上拿了一本又厚又小的书。 When I finished the cookies she brushed off the table and brought a thick, small book from the bookcase. 我读过《双城记》,认为这本书符合我心目中浪漫主义小说的标准。 I had read A Tale of Two Cities and found it up to my standards as a romantic novel. 她翻开第一页,于是我平生第一次听到了诗朗诵。 She opened the first page and I heard poetry for the first time in my life. “这是最辉煌的时代也是最糟糕的时代……”她的声音圆润,随着言语的起伏而抑扬顿挫,就像在唱歌一样。 “It was the best of times and the worst of times. . .” Her voice slid in and curved down through and over the words. She was nearly singing. 我想看一下她读的是否真的和我过去看的一样? I wanted to look at the pages. Were they the same that I had read? 还是像赞美诗一样,书页上满是音符? Or were there notes, music, lined on the pages, as in a hymn book? 她的声音开始慢慢低沉下来。 Her sounds began cascading gently. 我听过很多次布道,因此我知道她的朗诵就要结束了,但我还没有真正听见或听懂一个词。 I knew from listening to a thousand preachers that she was nearing the end of her reading, and I hadn't really heard, heard to understand, a single word. “你觉得怎么样?” “How do you like that?” 我这才意识到她在期待我的回答。 It occurred to me that she expected a response. 我的舌间还留有香草的余味,她的朗诵对我来说很奇妙。 The sweet vanilla flavor was still on my tongue and her reading was a wonder in my ears. 我得说点什么了。 I had to speak. 我说:“是的,夫人。”我至少得说这些,我也只能说这些。 I said, “Yea, ma'am.” It was the least I could do, but it was the most also. “还有一件事。你把这本诗集拿去,背下其中的一首。下次你再来看我时,我希望你背诵给我听。” 'There s one more thing. Take this book of poems and memorize one for me. Next time you pay me a visit, I want you to recite.“ 在经历了成年后的复杂生活后,我多次试图弄清楚为什么当年她送给我的礼物一下子就让我陶醉了。 I have tried often to search behind the sophistication of years for the enchantment I so easily found in those gifts. 书中的内容已经忘却,但余韵仍存。 The essence escapes but its aura remains. 被准许,不,是被邀请进入一群陌生人的私人生活中,与他们共同分享喜悦和恐惧,这使我读贝奥武夫时就犹如喝一杯蜜酒,读奥立佛?特威斯特时,犹如饮一杯热奶茶,忘记了那犹如南方苦艾酒般的痛苦经历。 To be allowed, no, invited, into the private lives of strangers, and to share their joys and fears, was a chance to exchange the Southern bitter wormwood for a cup of mead with Be-owulf or a hot cup of tea and milk with Oliver Twist. 当我大声地说“这比我做过的任何一件事都好得多”时,我眼中涌出了爱的泪水,那是为了自己的忘我 When I said aloud, “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done…” tears of love filled my eyes at my selflessness. 在我第一次去她家回来,我跑下山去冲到马路上(路上很少有车经过),快到店铺时我还居然没忘了停下来。 On that first day, I ran down the hill and into the road (few cars ever came along it) and had the good sense to stop running before I reached the Store. 有人喜欢我,这是多么的不同啊。 was liked, and what a difference it made. 有人尊敬我,并不是因为我是汉德森夫人的外孙女或是贝利的妹妹,而是因为我是玛格丽特?约翰逊。 I was respected not as Mrs. Henderson's grandchild or Bailey's sister but for just being Marguerite Johnson. 孩提时的逻辑永远不需要证实(所有的结论都是绝对的)。 Childhood's logic never asks to be proved (all conclusions are absolute)。 我从来没有想过为什么弗劳尔斯夫人会选中我来表示关怀,也从来没想过也许是奶奶曾请求她开导我一下。 1 didn't question why Mrs. Flowers had singled me out for attention, nor did it occur to me that Momma might have asked her to give me a little talking to. 我只关心她曾给我做点心吃,还给我读她最喜欢的书。这些足以证明她喜欢我 All I cared about was that she had made tea cookies for me and read to me from her favorite book. It was enough to prove that she liked me. 奶奶和贝利在店铺里等我。 Momma and Bailey were waiting inside the Store. 他问:“她给了你什么?”他已经看到那些书了,但我把装着他那份点心的纸袋放在怀里,用诗集挡住。 He said. “My, what did she give you?” He had seen the books, but I held the paper sack with his cookies in my arms shielded by the poems. 奶奶说:“小姐,我知道你的举止像位女士。 Momma said, “Sister, I know you acted like a little lady. That do my heart good to see settled people take to you all. 我已经尽努力了,上帝知道,但这些天……“她的声音低下来,”快去把衣服换了。 I'm trying my best, the Lord knows, but these days…“ Her voice trailed off. ”Go on in and change your dress.

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lesson4 自己选择死亡方式 Lesson Four Die as You Choose 制定关于安乐死的法律已经到了不能再回避的地步。 The need for laws on euthanasia cannot be dodged for much longer. 在世界上某个较小的国家里,安乐死被医疗机构普遍接受,每年都有数千例公开实施。 In one of the world's smaller countries, mercy-killing is accepted by the medical establishment and openly practiced a few thousand times each year. 而在某个世界大国,安乐死虽然经常受到医疗机构的公开谴责,每年却以数倍于此的次数秘密实施,且从未公之于众。 In one of the world's biggest countries, euthanasia is condemned by the medical establishment, secretly practiced many times more often, and almost never comes to light. 但是,在上述那个国家有医生因为实施安乐死而在监狱里服刑呢? Which of these countries has a mercy-killing doctor now languishing in its jails? 是在小国荷兰。荷兰制定了有关安乐死的法律,能有效地管理它。 It is the small one, Holland, which has rules for euthanasia and so can police it effectively. 那位荷兰的医生违反了他国家的规定。 The Dutch doctor broke his country's rules. 有关安乐死的问题在所有国家都存在,决不仅出现在美国这个禁止安乐死的大国。 There is a moral here for all the countries, and not just for the big death-forbidding country, America. 目前美国正再次展开有关安乐死的辩论。 Right now it is going over the arguments about euthanasia once again. 美国医学协会会刊1月份发表了一封非同寻常的来信。一位医生在信中宣称自己按照病人的意愿,杀死了一位身患癌症的20岁女孩。 In January the Journal of the American Medical Association published a bizarre letter, in which an anonymous doctor claimed to have killed a 20-year-old cancer patient at her own request. 这件事引起了一场辩论,而这场辩论将轰轰烈烈地持续到秋季,那时加利福尼亚州可能会就一项使安乐死合法化的法律进行投票表决。 This started a debate that will rumble on into the autumn, when Californians may vote on a proposed law legalizing euthanasia. 这封信可能是为了起到引发争论的效果,内容并不可信。 The letter was probably written for polemical impact. It is scarcely credible. 是作者自己在信中声称他(或她)第一次与那位得了癌症的病人见面,听到病人说出5个字——“让我去死吧”——然后就杀了她。 It's author claims that he met the cancer patient for the first time, heard five words from her – “Let's get this over with” – then killer her. 即使是极端的安乐死支持者也不赞成在这种情况下采取如此做法。 Even the most extreme proponents of euthanasia do not support such an action in those circumstances. 然而,医疗上出现的可怕事件如洪水猛兽一般,并不比安乐死的情况更好。它们无疑会在英美以及其他国家中继续肆虐,几乎成了令人恐怖的常规。 Yet medical monstrosities that are hardly any better undoubtedly continue, almost as a matter of macabre routine, in America, Britain and many other countries. 一些医生私下透露他们有时会故意杀死病人,这样的情况非常普遍,令人担忧。 It is disturbingly easy to find doctors who will say, in private, that they sometimes kill patients on purpose. 多数医生说他们知道其他医生也有同样的行为,但是因为即使在病人乞求他们的时候,医生也几乎不能与病人公开讨论安乐死,因此医生往往倾向于仅在要死的人处于垂危昏迷之际而无法表达是否同意安乐死时,才结束其生命。 Most say that know somebody else who does. But because they can rarely discuss euthanasia openly with patients – even when those patients beg them for it – doctors tend to kill only when the dying are too far gone to consent. 由于自愿要求安乐死受到禁止,就只能由医生自行作出决定了,病人会在夜间受到药物注射而非自愿地离开人世。 Thus, because voluntary euthanasia is taboo, a doctor makes the decision himself – and the patient is killed involuntarily in the night with a syringe. 这是不使安乐死公开的代价。 That is one price of keeping euthanasia secret. 如果所有形式的安乐死都是错误的,那就应该统统列入禁止之列。 If all forms of mercy-killing are wrong, they should remain taboo. 可情况果真如此吗? But are they? 许多人都认为依靠医学技术来延续生命带给人的痛苦是令人悲哀、可憎可恶的,完全不顾人的尊严,因此被动的安乐死——让病人自行死亡——被人们普遍接受。 Because many people accept that it is sad, undignified and gruesome to prolong the throes of death will all the might of medical technology, passive euthanasia – letting patients die – is widely accepted. 美国大多数州都有关于“活遗嘱”的法规,为医生提供保护。如果医生没有尽力救助曾声明不想延续生命的病人,不会为此受到起诉。 Most American states have “living – will” legislation that protects doctors from prosecution if they do not try to save someone who has said he does not want life prolonged. 主动的安乐死——杀死病人——却依然争论颇多。 Active euthanasia – killing – remains controversial. 将人杀死与让人死亡之间的界线还能维持多久呢? How long can the distinction between killing and letting die hold out? 正如因未履行某种职责受到处罚一样,人也可能因干了某事而不受责难。 Just as there can be culpable omissions, so too can there be blameless acts. 让我们从道德伦理著作中举例说明。假定一个人会从某个孩子的死亡中获益,当这个孩子在浴缸中撞伤头部而失去知觉时,那个人视而不见,任其溺水身亡。 Suppose – to take an example from the moral philosophy books – that a man stands to gain from the death of a certain child. The child strikes his head in the bath and falls unconscious. The man sits down and watches him drown. 虽然这个人什么都没有做,但他并不能因此开脱罪责。 The fact that the man has performed no action does not excuse him. 同样,再假设为了缩短而不是延长死亡到来的时间,医生终止某种治疗是无可指责的做法,那么如果这位医生使用足够的镇痛剂致使病人死亡,他就一定大错特错吗? Similarly, suppose that a doctor does no wrong by withholding some treatment in order that death should come sooner rather than later. Is he then necessarily wrong if he administers enough painkillers to kill? 这位医生采取了某种行动,而不是未尽某种职责,这会使他有罪吗? Does the fact that the doctor performed an action, rather than an omission, condemn him? 许多医生一直在为解除病人临终前的痛苦而奋斗着。他们认为在病人请求安乐死时,根本无法截然区分被动与主动的安乐死。 Many doctors working on the battlefield of terminal suffering think that only squeamishness demands a firm difference between passive and active euthanasia on request. 他们赞成医生杀死病人的理由是:医生的职责之一就是使病人免遭痛苦,这是医生所做的全部事情,而杀死病人则是做到这一点的惟一办法。 Their argument for killing goes like this: one of a doctor's duties is to prevent suffering; sometimes that is all there is left for him to do, and killing is the only way to do it. 这个观点并不新颖。当希波克拉底为医生制定信条的时候,曾明确禁止安乐死,而多数其他希腊医生和思想家都不赞成这一禁令。 There is nothing new in this view. When Hippocrates formulated his oath for doctors, which explicitly rules out active killing, most other Greek doctors and thinkers disagreed with his ban. 前事不忘,后事之师。 Let the past be a guide. 有人认为死亡的时间是上帝安排的,任何人不得缩短他人的生命,然而假如一位病人的人生观使其接受安乐死,那么人们不禁要问:为什么其他人还要用不同的宗教观念去干预其死亡呢? Some people believe that the time of death is appointed by God and that no man should put the clock back on another. Yet if a patient's philosophical views embrace euthanasia, it is not clear why the religious objections of others should intrude on his death. 另一个令人担忧问题是,有关安乐死的法律体系允许医生在规定的情况下按照垂死病人的请求实施安乐死,就可能为杀人首开先例,从而危害社会。 Another worry is that a legal framework for euthanasia, permitting a doctor to comply with a dying man's request in a prescribed set of circumstances, might pose dangers for society by setting a precedent for killing. 这个问题取决于社会。 That depends on the society. 尽管有不同意见,荷兰对建立这样的法律体系已经准备就绪。 Holland, arguably, is ready for it. 当年就是荷兰医生英勇无比地顶住了压力,拒绝参与使安乐死声名狼藉的纳粹用人体进行医学实验的暴行,这恐怕不是巧合。 It is probably no coincidence that it was Dutch doctors who most heroically resisted pressure to join in the Nazi medical atrocities that have given euthanasia its worst name. 这些医生对个人自由坚定不移的尊重使他们没有杀害渴望活下去的健康人。今天正是同样的精神又使他们去帮助不愿活下去的垂危病人。 The same tenacious respect for individual liberty that stopped them killing healthy people, who did not want to die, now lets them help dying people who do. 与之相反,西德在未来相当长的时间里都无法使任何形式的安乐死合法化。 West Germany, by contrast, will not be able to legalize any form of euthanasia for a long time to come. 由于历史的阴影反对安乐死的力量异常强大,在那些近年来自由意志的传统未受任何干扰的国家里,为自愿安乐死制定有限的规定并不会使人们产生太多的恐惧。 Opposition is too fierce, because of the shadow of the past. Countries with an uninterrupted recent libertarian tradition have less to fear from setting some limited rules for voluntary euthanasia. 拒绝讨论这个问题会使情况更加糟糕。 By refusing to discuss it, they usher in something worse.

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沐小宁橙紫儿

第十个人 Lesson Ten The Tenth Man 就在第二天下午3点(闹钟上的时间),一个军官走进了牢房。这是他们几星期以来见到的第一位军官。他非常年轻,甚至小胡子的形状也显示出他不够老练,左边的胡子剃得重了点。 It was at three the next afternoon (alarm clock time) that an officer entered the cell; the first officer they had seen for weeks – and this one was very young, with inexperience even in the shape of his mustache which he had shaved too much on the left side. 他就像一个初次登台领奖的小学生一样窘迫不安,他说起话来粗鲁无礼,似乎要显示一种他并不具备的力量。 He was as embarrassed as a schoolboy making his first entry on a stage at a prize-giving, and he spoke abruptly so as to give the impression of a strength he did not possess. 他说道:“昨天夜间城里发生了几起谋杀,一名军事长官的副手、一位中士和一个骑自行车的女孩被杀。”他又说道:“我们不在乎女孩的死。法国男人杀死法国女人不关我们的事。” He said, “There were murders last night in the town. The aide-de-camp of the military governor, a sergeant and a girl on a bicycle.” He added, “We don't complain about the girl. Frenchmen have our permission to kill Frenchwomen.” 很明显他事先仔细斟酌了他的讲话,但他的嘲弄做过了头,他的表演也很业余。 He had obviously thought up his speech carefully beforehand, but the irony was overdone and the delivery that of an amateur actor: 整个场面就像手势字谜游戏那样矫饰做作。 the whole scene was as unreal as a charade. 他接着说道:“你们知道自己为什么来这里,你们在这里好吃好喝,过着舒适的日子,而我们的人却在工作和战斗。不过现在你们必须付出代价了。不要怪我们,要怪你们自己的杀人凶手。我的命令是集中营里每十个人要有一个被枪决。你们有多少人?”“报数。”他厉声喝道人们闷闷不乐地照办了。“28,29,30.”人们知道不用数他也知道人数,这不过是他玩的把戏中不可省略的一句台词…… He said, “You know what you are here for, living comfortably, on fine rations, while our men work and fight. Well, now you've got to pay the hotel bill. Don't blame us. Blame your own murderers. My orders are that one man in every ten shall be shot in this camp. How many of you are there?” He shouted sharply, “Number off,” and sullenly they obeyed, “…… twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.” They knew he knew without counting. This was just a line in his charade he couldn't sacrifice. 他说道:“那么,你们的名额是三个,我们并不关心是哪三个人。你们可以自己选择。死刑于明天早上7点执行。” He said, “Your allotment then is three. We are quite indifferent as to which three. You can choose for yourselves. The funeral rites will begin at seven tomorrow morning.” 他玩的把戏结束了,人们可以听到他的脚步响亮地敲击着沥青路渐渐远去。 The charade was over: they could hear his feet striking sharply on the asphalt going away. 查维尔忽然很想知道他打的手势是什么字。要他们猜的是不是“夜间”,“姑娘”,“旁边”或“30”。不,不是。谜底肯定是“人质”。 Chavel wondered for a moment what syllable had been acted —“night,”“girl,”“aside,” or perhaps “thirty,” but it was of course the whole word—“hostage. ” 牢房里很长时间没人说话。后来一个叫克拉夫的阿尔萨斯人开口道:“好了,我们有人自愿吗?” The silence went on a long time, and then a man called Krogh, an Alsatian, said, “Well, do we have to volunteer?” “废话。”一个职员说道。他是一个上了年纪的戴着夹鼻眼镜的老头。他接着说道:“没人会自愿,我们必须抽签。除非有人认为应按年龄决定——最老的先死。” “Rubbish,” said one of the clerks, a thin elderly man in pince-nez, “nobody will volunteer. We must draw lots.” He added, “Un-less it is thought that we should go by ages —the oldest first. ” “不,不行。”另一个人说道,“那不公平。” “No, no,” one of the others said, “that would be unjust. ” “这是自然规律。” “It's the way of nature.” “那算什么自然规律。”又一个人说道,“我有个女儿,5岁时就死了。” “Not even the way of nature,” another said. “1 had a child who died when she was five……” “我们必须抽签。”市长坚定地说。 “We must draw lots,” the mayor said firmly. “只有这样才公正。”他坐在那里,双手依然紧贴在肚子上,遮挡着他的怀表,但是整个牢房里都能听见怀表清脆的滴答声。 “It is the only fair thing.” He sat with his hands still pressed over his stomach, hiding his watch, but all through the cell you could hear its blunt tick lock tick. 他接着又说道:“由未婚者抽签,已婚者除外,他们有责任。” He added, “On the unmarried. The married should not be included. They have responsibilities… “哈,哈!”皮埃尔说道,“我们明白了。为什么已婚者就应逃脱?他们的事儿已经做完了。当然,你结婚了吧?” “Ha, ha,” Pierre said, “we see through that. Why should the married get off? Their work's finished. You, of course, are married?” “我的妻子不在了。”市长说,“我现在是未婚,你呢?” “I have lost my wife,” the mayor said, “I am not married now. And you…” “结了。”皮埃尔答道。 “Married,” Pierre said. 市长开始解下怀表。发现皮埃尔处境安全,他似乎更坚信作为怀表的主人自己必定是下一个牺牲者。 The mayor began to undo his watch; the discovery that his rival was safe seemed to confirm his belief that as the owner of time he was bound to be the next victim. 他环顾了每一个人,然后选择了查维尔。也许是因为只有他穿着西服背心适合戴表链。他说道:“查维尔先生,我想让你替我拿着怀表,万一……” He looked from face to face and chose Chavel, perhaps because he was the only man with a waistcoat fit to take the chain. He said, “Monsieur Chavel, I want you to hold this watch for me in case…” “你找别人吧!”查维尔说,“我还没结婚呢。” “you'd better choose someone else,” Chavel said. “I am not married.” 那个老职员又开口了,“我结婚了,我有权说话。 The elderly clerk spoke again. He said, “I'm married. I've got the right to speak. 我们正把一切引向歧途。这不是我们最后一次抽签。如果这儿有一个特权阶层——那些最终将活着的人,大家想想,牢房里会是什么样子。你们其他人很快就会痛恨我们。你们害怕,而我们将不再担心。“ We are going the wrong way about all this. Everyone must draw lots. This isn't the last draw we shall have, and picture to yourselves what it will be like in this cell if we have a privileged class —the ones who are left to the end. The rest of you will soon begin to hate us. We shall be left out of your fear. . . “ “他说得对。”皮埃尔说。 “He's right,” Pierre said. 市长重新握紧了怀表,说道:“就照你们的主意办。要是能够这样征税的话……”他做了个绝望的手势。 The mayor refastened his watch. “Have it your own way,” he said. “But if the taxes were levied like this…” He gave a gesture of despair. “我们如何抽签?”克拉夫问道。 “How do we draw?” Krogh asked. 查维尔答道:“最快的办法就是从一只鞋里抽出画有记号的纸条。” Chavel said, “The quickest way would be to draw marked papers out of a shoe. . .” 克拉夫轻蔑地说:“那么快干吗?对于我们当中几个人来说这可是最后一次赌博了。我们蛮可以享受一番。我提议赌抛硬币。” Krogh said contemptuously, “Why the quickest way? This is the last gamble some of us will have. We may as well enjoy it. I say a coin.” “这不好。”那个职员说,“抛硬币不是一个公平、合理的办法。” “It won't work,” the clerk said. “You can't get a even chance with a coin.” “惟一的办法就是抽签。”市长说道。 “The only way is to draw,” the mayor said. 职员开始为抽签做准备,为此他牺牲了一封家信。 The clerk prepared the draw, sacrificing for it one of his letters from home. 他很快地看了一遍信,然后把它撕成30张小纸条。 He read it rapidly for the last time, and then tore it into thirty pieces. 他用铅笔在其中三张上画上十字,然后把每张纸条都叠上。 On three pieces he made a cross in pencil, and then folded each piece. 他接着说:“克拉夫的鞋。”大家把纸条放在地下搅乱,然后装进了鞋子里。 “Krogh's got the biggest shoe,” he said. They shuffled the pieces on the floor and then dropped them into the shoe. “我们按姓氏的字母顺序抽签。”市长说。 “We'll draw in alphabetical order,” the mayor said. “从Z开始抽。”查维尔说道。他的安全感开始动摇了。他急切想喝点什么,用手指从嘴唇上撕下一小块干皮。 “Z first,” Chavel said. His feeling of security was shaken. He wanted a drink badly. He picked at a dry piece of skin on his lip. “就按你说的办。”卡车司机说道,“有人排在维尔森前面吗?我先抽。” “As you wish,” the lorry driver said. “Anybody beat Voisin? Here goes. 他用手在鞋子里小心地掏,就像是要掏到他心里想要的那张。 “He thrust his hand into the shoe and made careful excavations as though he had one particular scrap of paper in mind. 他抽出一张,打开,怔怔地看着,然后说了声:“完了。”他坐下来,摸出一支香烟放到嘴里,却忘了点火。 He drew one out, opened it, and gazed at it with astonishment. He said, “This is it.” He sat down and felt for a cigarette, but when he got it between his lips he forgot to light it. 查维尔心中充满了巨大而又令他感到羞耻的快乐。 Chavel was filled with a huge and shameful joy. 看来自己得救了。剩下二十九个人抽签,而只有两张带有记号的纸条。 It seemed to him that already he was saved —twenty - nine men to draw and only two marked papers left. 抽中死签的可能性突然变得对他有利,从10比1变成了14比1.经营蔬菜水果的商人也抽了一张,然后漫不经心、毫无表情地示意自己平安无事。 The chances had suddenly grown in his favor from ten to one to—fourteen to one: the greengrocer had drawn a slip and indicated carelessly and without pleasure that he was safe. 的确,从抽第一张签时人们就忌讳任何喜形于色的表现,一个人不能以任何宽慰的举动去嘲弄注定要死的人。 Indeed from the first draw any mark of pleasure was taboo: one couldn't mock the condemned man by any sign of relief. 查维尔胸中有一种隐隐约约的不安——还不是恐惧,像是一种压抑感。 Again a dull disquiet —ii couldn't yet be described as a fear—exended its empire over Chavel's chest. 当第六个人抽到空白纸条时,他发现自己在打哈欠;当第十个人——就是大家称作雅维耶的那个人抽完签后,他的心中又充满了某中怨愤的情绪。现在抽中死签的机会同开始时一样了。 It was like a constriction: he found himself yawning as the sixth man drew a blank slip, and a sense of grievance nagged at his mind when the tenth man bad drawn—it was the one they called Janvier—and the chances were once again the same as when the draw started. 有的人抽出他们手指碰到的第一张纸条;有的人似乎怀疑命运企图将某一张纸条强加于他们,所以他们刚刚从鞋里抽出一张,就又扔回去,再另换一张。 Some men drew the first slip which touched their fingers; others seemed to suspect tha t fate was trying to force on them a particular slip and when they bad drawn one a little way from the shoe would let it drop again and choose another. 时间过得很慢,令人难以置信。那个叫做维尔森的人靠墙坐着,嘴里叼着仍未点燃的香烟,对一切都不再在意。 Time passed with incredible slowness, and the man called Voisin sat against the wall with the unlighted cigarette in his mouth paying them no attention at all. 就在生存的机会逐渐变小,抽中死签的可能性达到八分之一时,一个叫做勒诺特的上年纪的职员抽中了第二张死签。 The chances had narrowed to one in eight when the elderly clerk —his name was Lenotre—drew the second slip. 他清了清喉咙,戴上夹鼻眼镜,好像要确认自己没有看错。“喂,维尔森先生,我能加入吗?”他带着淡淡的微笑说道。 He cleared his throat and put on his pince-nez as though he had to make sure he was not mistaken. “Ah, Monsieur Voisin,” he said with a thin undecided smile, “May I join you?” 令人难以琢磨的机会再次以绝对对查维尔有利的优势朝他走来,抽中死签的可能性只有十五分之一,可他这次却没有丝毫欣慰,他被普通百姓所具有的勇气所震撼,他想让这一切尽快结束,就像一副扑克玩得太久了,他只希望有人离开牌桌,结束牌局。 This time Chavel felt no joy even though the elusive odds were back again overwhelmingly in his favor at fifteen to one; he was daunted by the courage of common men. He wanted the whole thing to be over as quickly as possible: like a game of cards which has gone on too long, he only wanted someone to make a move and break up the table. 勒诺特在维尔森身边靠墙坐下,他翻过纸条,背面是信中的一点内容,“是你妻子的?”维尔森问道。“是我女儿的。”勒诺特答道,“请原谅。”他起身走到自己的铺盖处,抽出一本便笺,回到维尔森身边开始写起来。他不慌不忙,认认真真地写下一串纤细而清晰的字迹。 。 Lenotre, sitting down against the wall next to Voisin, turned the slip over: on the back was a scrap of writing. Your-wife?“ Voisin said. “My daughter,” Lenotre said. “Excuse me.” He went over to his roll of bedding and drew out a writing pad. Then he sat down next to Voisin and began to write, carefully, without hurry, a thin legible hand. 这时中死签的概率又回到了10比1. The odds were back to ten to one. 从那时起,对查维尔来说,抽中死签的可能性似乎以一种不可避免的可怕趋势发生着变化。 From that point the odds seemed to move toward Chavel with a dreadful inevitability: 9比1,8比1,抽中死签的可能性好像指向了他。 nine to one, eight to one; they were like a pointing finger. 剩下的人抽得越来越快,越来越随便。 The men who were left drew more quickly and more carelessly: 在查维尔看来,他们似乎都知道了某种秘密,知道他会抽到死签。 they seemed to Chavel to have some inner information —to know that he was the one. 轮到他抽签时,只剩下了3张纸,留给他的机会这么少,在他看来真是不公平。 When his time came to draw there were only three slips left , and it appeared to Chavel a monstrous injustice that there were so few choices left for him. 他从鞋中抽出一张,接着又认定这是同伴的意志强加给他的,一定有十字。于是他把它放回去,另抽了一张。 He drew one out of the shoe and then feeling certain that this one had been willed on him by his companions and contained the penciled cross he threw it back and snatched another. “律师,你偷看了。”剩下的两个人中有一个大声说道,但另一个让他安静下来。 “You looked, lawyer,” one of the two men exclaimed, but the other quieted him. “他没有偷看,他抽到的是有记号的。” “He didn't look. He's got the marked one now.” “不,不。”查维尔把纸条扔到地上,开始大叫:“我从来就没有同意,你们不能让我替别人去死。” “No,” Chavel said, “no.” He threw the slip upon the ground and cried, “I never consented to the draw. You can't make me die for the rest of you. . . ” 大家惊讶地看着他,但并没有敌意。 They watched him with astonishment but without enmity. 他是一个出身高贵的人。人们没有用自己的标准去衡量他,因为他属于一个别人难以理解的阶层。人们甚至没有把他的行为与胆怯联系起来。 He was a gentleman. They didn't judge him by their own standards: he belonged to an unaccountable class and they didn't at first even attach the idea of cowardice to his actions. “听我说,”查维尔一边哀求,一边举起那张纸条。大家既惊奇又好奇地看着他。“谁接受这张纸条,我就给他10万法郎。” “Listen,” Chavel implored them. He held out the slip of paper and they all watched him with compassionate curiosity. “I'll give a hundred thousand francs to anyone who'll take this.” 他快速移动着小步地从一个人面前走到另一个人面前,朝每一个人展示那张小纸条,好像是拍卖会上的服务员。 He took little rapid steps from one man to another, showing each man the bit of paper as if he were an attendant at an auction. “10万法郎。”他恳求道。人们感到震惊,同样又感到一丝怜悯:他是他们之中惟一的有钱人,这是与众不同之处。 “A hundred thousand francs,” he implored, and they watched him with a kind of shocked pity: he was the only rich man among them and this was a unique situation. 人们无法去比较,只能认定这就是他那个阶层的特点,这犹如一个在异国港口下船就餐的旅游者能从一个碰巧与他同桌的狡猾商人身上总结出该国的国民性格。 They had no means of comparison and assumed that this was a characteristic of his class, just as a traveler stepping off the liner at a foreign port for luncheon sums up a nation's character forever in the wily businessman who happens to share the table with him.

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