第三册第18篇：夜间的风暴

（单词翻译）

18. The Night Storm 夜间的风暴
By Charles Dickens

One wintry evening a keen north wind arose as it grew dark, and night came on with black and dismal¹ looks. A bitter storm of sleet², dense³ and ice-cold, swept the wet streets, and rattled⁵ on the trembling windows. Sing-boards, shaken past endurance in their creaking frames, fell crashing on the pavement; old tottering⁶ chimneys reeled and staggered in the blast; and many a steeple rocked again that night, as though the earth were troubled.

It was not a time for those, who could by any means get light and warmth, to brave the fury of the weather. In coffee-houses of the better sort, guests crowded round the fire, forgot to be political, and told each other with a secret gladness that the blast grew fiercer every minute. Each humble⁷ tavern⁸ by the waterside had its group of uncouth⁹ figures round the hearth¹⁰, who talked of vessels¹¹ foundering¹² at sea, and all the hands lost; related many a dismal tale of shipwreck¹³ and drowned men, and hoped that some they knew were safe, and shook their heads in doubt. In private dwellings¹⁴, children clustered near the blaze; listening with timid pleasure to tales of ghosts and goblins, and tall figures clad in white standing¹⁵ by besides, and people who had gone to sleep in old churches and being overlooked had found themselves alone there at the dead hour of the night, until they shuddered¹⁶ at the thought of the dark roooms up-stairs, yet loved to hear the wind moan too, and hoped it would continue bravely. From time to time these happy in-door people stopped to listen, or one held up his finger and cried, “Hark!” And then above the rumbling¹⁷ in the chimney, and the fast pattering on the glass, was heard a wailing¹⁸, rushing sound, which shook the walls as though a giant’s hand were on them; then a hoarse¹⁹ roar as if the sea had risen; then such a whirl and tumult²⁰ that the air seemed mad and then, with a lengthened²¹ howl, the waves of wind swept on, and left a moment’s interval²² of rest.

Cheerily, though there were none abroad to see it, shone the May-pole Tavern light that evening Blessings²³ on the deep-red, ruby-glowing-red, old curtains of the window, blending into one rich stream of brightness, fire an candle, meat, drink, and company, and gleaming like a jovial²⁴ eye upon the bleak²⁵ waste out of doors! Within, what carpet like its crunching²⁶ sand, what music merry as its crackling logs, what perfume like its kithen’s dainty breach²⁷, what weather genial²⁸ as its hearty²⁹ warmth! Blessings on the old house, how sturdily it stood! How did the vexed³⁰ wind chafe³¹ and roar about its stalwart roof; how did it pant and strive with its wide chimneys, which still poured forth³² from their hospitable³³ throats great clouds of smoke, and puffed³⁴ defiance³⁵ in its face; how, above all, did it drive and rattle⁴ at the casement³⁶, emulous to extinguish that cheerful glow, which would not be put down and seemed the brighter for the conflict.