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一小时发生了什么?

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得知马兰德太太正受着心脏病的折磨,大家传达她丈夫的死讯时十分谨慎,措词尽量地婉转。
Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great care was taken to break to her as gently as possible the news of her husband's death.
马兰德太太的姐姐约瑟芬说话时断断续续的,拐弯抹角向她暗示着这个坏消息。她丈夫的朋友理查德也在那儿,站在她旁边。当火车事故的消息传到报社时,理查德就在报社里,而事故的遇难名单头一个名字就是“布雷特力.马兰德”。当第二封电报到达时,理查德即刻确定了此事的真实性;作为一个最细心周到、最善解人意的朋友,他无法忍受如此悲痛的消息,便赶在其它朋友之前,迅速把死讯送了出去。
It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her. It was he who had been in the newspaper office when intelligence of the railroad disaster was received, with Brently Mallard's name leading the list of "killed." He had only taken the time to assure himself of its truth by a second telegram, and had hastened to forestall any less careful, less tender friend in bearing the sad message.
马兰德太太不像许多其他的妇人一样,听到如此噩耗就呆住了,只是浑浑噩噩地听着事情的来龙去脉。她绝望地倒在姐姐的怀里,即刻放声大哭。当那风暴一般的悲恸渐渐平息下去,她独自上楼,走回自己的房间。她不让任何人跟着。
She did not hear the story as many women have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to accept its significance. She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment, in her sister's arms. When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room alone. She would have no one follow her.
房间里那扇洞开的窗户对面,立着一把舒适宽敞的扶手椅。她坐下去,把整个身子深深陷到椅子里;筋疲力尽的感觉充满了她全身,似乎还渗透进了她的灵魂。
There stood, facing the open window, a comfortable, roomy armchair. Into this she sank, pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul.
透过窗户她看见,在房前的院子里,树梢在新春的重生里兴奋地颤动。 空气中充斥着甘甜的雨的气息。在下面的街道上,一个小贩大声叫卖着他的货物。有人在远处唱着歌,几个音符隐约地传到她的耳边;数不清的麻雀在屋檐上啾啾地叫唤。
She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below a peddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song which some one was singing reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves.
正对着窗户的西面,层层叠叠的云朵之间,蔚蓝的天露出了脸,这儿一绺,那儿一片。
There were patches of blue sky showing here and there through the clouds that had met and piled one above the other in the west facing her window.
她坐在那儿,头靠着椅垫,一动不动。只偶尔在喉咙深处发出一声哽咽,让她自己也吃一惊;如同一个哭着睡去的孩子,在他的梦中继续抽泣。
She sat with her head thrown back upon the cushion of the chair, quite motionless, except when a sob came up into her throat and shook her, as a child who has cried itself to sleep continues to sob in its dreams.
她仍然年轻,一张平和美丽的脸,轮廓中显露着克制与压抑,甚至隐藏了一种力量。然而现在她目光呆滞,定定地凝视着远处的某一片蓝天。这眼神并非沉思,只透露出她暂时停止了理性思考。
She was young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength. But now there was a dull stare in her eyes, whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one of those patches of blue sky. It was not a glance of reflection, but rather indicated a suspension of intelligent thought.
有什么感觉正迎向她;她等待着,满怀恐惧。究竟是什么?她并不知道,这感觉太微妙,难以捉摸,无法去描述。然而她能感觉到它,这感觉溜出了天际,穿越空气中弥漫的各种声响、气味和声音,渐渐地靠近她。
There was something coming to her and she was waiting for it, fearfully. What was it? She did not know; it was too subtle and elusive to name. But she felt it, creeping out of the sky, reaching toward her through the sounds, the scents, the color that filled the air.
现在她的内心汹涌,情绪激动。她开始意识到它是什么,这逐渐逼近、逐渐占据她身心的感觉。她挣扎着,企图用自己的意志力去打败它;这意志却如她那双雪白纤细的手一般软弱无力。
Now her bosom rose and fell tumultuously. She was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will - as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been.
当她终于放弃挣扎,任由这感觉在心里蔓延开去,一个喃喃低语的词,从她轻启的唇间蹦出。 她屏住呼吸,不断重复着那个词语:“自由,自由,自由!”随着这感觉而来的茫然与恐惧,如今都从她眼里消失了。如今她的眼神里充满热望,焕发着光彩。她的心砰砰直跳,奔涌的血液流遍她的全身,每一寸肌肤都感到温暖与轻松。
When she abandoned herself a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. She said it over and over under her breath: "free, free, free!" The vacant stare and the look of terror that had followed it went from her eyes. They stayed keen and bright. Her pulses beat fast, and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed every inch of her body.
她并没有片刻去叩问自己,被一种巨大的欢喜所控制是否过于荒谬。一种明明白白的欣悦的心情,淹没了她的身心,让她轻而易举地驱散了这琐细的念头。
She did not stop to ask if it were or were not a monstrous joy that held her. A clear and exalted perception enabled her to dismiss the suggestion as trivial.
她知道,当她看见那双曾经温柔的手僵硬地交握一起;当她看见那张从未向她吝惜爱意的脸,变得凝固、灰白、毫无生的气息;她一定会再度落泪。然而在那痛苦的时刻以外,她看见了她所拥有的那么长远的未来,那完完整整的、属于她一个人的未来。她敞开胸怀,张开双臂,欢迎那些崭新的岁月。
She knew that she would weep again when she saw the kind, tender hands folded in death; the face that had never looked save with love upon her, fixed and gray and dead. But she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that would belong to her absolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.
在那些即将到来的岁月里,她不再需要为任何人而活,她只为自己而活着。不再有强有力的意志,盲目而固执地强加于她的身上——所有的男人和女人都相信,他们有权对自己的伴侣实施这样的个人意愿。无论其动机的好坏,在这光芒四射的一刻,她突然感到那些出于强制意愿的行为,都与犯罪无异。
There would be no one to live for during those coming years; she would live for herself. There would be no powerful will bending hers in that blind persistence with which men and women believe they have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature. A kind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime as she looked upon it in that brief moment of illumination.
然而她曾经爱着他——有些时候。更多的时候,并非如此。这有什么关系呢!她忽然意识到,她拥有了自我,只有这自我才是生存于世的强大动力;而爱情,这无法解决的秘密,如何能与之相比!
And yet she had loved him - sometimes. Often she had not. What did it matter! What could love, the unsolved mystery, count for in face of this possession of self-assertion which she suddenly recognized as the strongest impulse of her being!
“自由!身体和灵魂的自由!”她不停地喃喃自语。
"Free! Body and soul free!" she kept whispering.
约瑟芬跪在紧闭的房门前,嘴贴着钥匙孔说话,恳求她的妹妹让她进去。“路易斯,开开门!我求求你,打开门吧,你这样会让自己得病的。路易斯,你在干什么?看在上帝的份上,开开门!”
Josephine was kneeling before the closed door with her lips to the keyhole, imploring for admission. "Louise, open the door! I beg, open the door - you will make yourself ill. What are you doing Louise? For heaven's sake open the door."
“请你离开。我没有让自己得病。”没有。她正在敞开的窗户前,迫不及待地汲取着窗外那美妙的、新生的甘霖。
"Go away. I am not making myself ill." No; she was drinking in a very elixir of life through that open window.
她对未来日子的想象,如脱缰的野马般一发不可收拾。明媚的春日,晴朗的盛夏,各种各样的日子,都是她自个儿的。她喘着气,飞快地做了个祷告,祈求生命会长久一些。而才在昨天,一想到人生也许会很长,她就不寒而栗。
Her fancy was running riot along those days ahead of her. Spring days, and summer days, and all sorts of days that would be her own. She breathed a quick prayer that life might be long. It was only yesterday she had thought with a shudder that life might be long.
她终于站起身来,在姐姐的催逼下打开了房门。她的眼神里有着狂热的欢欣,她表现得就如同胜利之神一般,自己却毫不知情。她的手紧紧环住姐姐的腰,两人一起走下了楼梯。理查德在楼下等着她们。
She arose at length and opened the door to her sister's importunities. There was a feverish triumph in her eyes, and she carried herself unwittingly like a goddess of Victory. She clasped her sister's waist, and together they descended the stairs. Richards stood waiting for them at the bottom.
有人正用钥匙打开房子的前门。走进来的人是布雷特力.马兰德,有点儿风尘仆仆,从容地提着他的手提箱和雨伞。那遭意外发生时马兰德隔得很远,他甚至还不知道有这样一个惨祸发生。马兰德站在那儿,对眼前的一切感到吃惊:约瑟芬发出了一声刺耳的喊叫,理查德迅速移动了身子,试图把他挡在他妻子的视线以外。
Some one was opening the front door with a latchkey. It was Brently Mallard who entered, a little travel-stained, composedly carrying his grip-sack and umbrella. He had been far from the scene of accident, and did not even know there had been one. He stood amazed at Josephine's piercing cry; at Richards' quick motion to screen him from the view of his wife.
然而理查德晚了一步。
But Richards was too late.
医生赶到的时候,他们说马兰德死于心脏病——狂喜杀死了她。
When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease - of joy that kills.
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2010-12-08 23:02 编辑:kuaileyingyu
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  • jkfh 说:

    貌似不是原作

    2010-12-10 09:28 回复 支持(0) 反对(0) 沙发
  • chunqi 说:

    在那些即将到来的岁月里,她不再需要为任何人而活,她只为自己而活着。
    She is so pity. At that time women didn't have high enough social status so she just needed freedom.

    2010-12-23 06:11 回复 支持(0) 反对(0) 板凳