月亮和六便士 第四十一章(8)

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I was sore, but not with him so much as with myself. 我气得要命，但与其说是对他倒不如说对我自己。

I thought of the happy life that pair had led in the cosy² studio in Montmartre, Stroeve and his wife, their simplicity³, kindness, and hospitality; 我回想起这一对夫妻——施特略夫同他的妻子，在蒙特玛特尔区一间舒适的画室中过的幸福生活，他们两人淳朴、善良、殷勤好客，

it seemed to me cruel that it should have been broken to pieces by a ruthless chance; 这种生活竟由于一件无情的偶然事件被打得粉碎，我觉得这真是非常残忍的；

but the cruelest thing of all was that in fact it made no great difference. 但是最最残忍的还是，这件事对别人并没有什么影响。

The world went on, and no one was a penny the worse for all that wretchedness. 人们继续生活下去，谁也没有因为这个悲剧而活得更糟。

I had an idea that Dirk, a man of greater emotional reactions than depth of feeling, would soon forget; 我猜想，就连戴尔克不久也会把这件事遗忘，因为尽管他反应强烈，一时悲恸欲绝，感情却没有深度。

and Blanche's life, begun with who knows what bright hopes and what dreams, might just as well have never been lived. 至于勃朗什自己，不论她最初步入生活时曾怀有何等美妙的希望与梦想，死了以后，同她根本没有降临人世又有什么两样？

It all seemed useless and inane⁴. 一切都是空虚的，没有意义的。

Strickland had found his hat, and stood looking at me. 思特里克兰德拿起了帽子，站在那里看着我。

"Are you coming?" “你来吗？”

"Why do you seek my acquaintance?" I asked him. "You know that I hate and despise you." “你为什么要同我来往？”我问他，“你知道我讨厌你，鄙视你。”

He chuckled⁵ good-humouredly. 他咯咯地笑了笑，一点也没有恼怒。

"Your only quarrel with me really is that I don't care a twopenny damn what you think about me." “你同我吵嘴，实际上是因为我根本不在乎你对我的看法。”

I felt my cheeks grow red with sudden anger. 我感到自己的面颊气得通红。

It was impossible to make him understand that one might be outraged⁶ by his callous⁷ selfishness. 你根本无法使他了解，他的冷酷、自私能叫人气得火冒三丈。

I longed to pierce his armour⁸ of complete indifference⁹. 我恨不得一下子刺穿了他那副冷漠的甲胄。

I knew also that in the end there was truth in what he said. 但是我也知道，归根结底，他的话也不无道理。

Unconsciously, perhaps, we treasure the power we have over people by their regard for our opinion of them, 虽然我们没有明确意识到，说不定我们还是非常重视别人看重不看重我们的意见、我们在别人身上是否有影响力的；如果我们对一个人的看法受到他的重视，我们就沾沾自喜，

and we hate those upon whom we have no such influence. 如果他对这种意见丝毫也不理会，我们就讨厌他。

I suppose it is the bitterest wound to human pride. 我想这就是自尊心中最厉害的创伤。

But I would not let him see that I was put out. 但是我并不想叫思特里克兰德看出我这种气恼。

"Is it possible for any man to disregard others entirely¹⁰?" I said, though more to myself than to him. “一个人可能完全不理会别人吗？”我说，与其说是问他还不如说是问我自己，

"You're dependent on others for everything in existence. It's a preposterous¹¹ attempt to try to live only for yourself and by yourself. “生活中无论什么事都和别人息息相关，要想只为自己、孤零零地一个人活下去是个十分荒谬的想法。

Sooner or later you'll be ill and tired and old, and then you'll crawl back into the herd¹². 早晚有一天你会生病，会变得老态龙钟，到那时候你还得爬着回去找你的同伙。

Won't you be ashamed when you feel in your heart the desire for comfort and sympathy? 当你感到需要别人的安慰和同情的时候，你不羞愧吗？

You're trying an impossible thing. 你现在要做的是一件根本不可能的事。

Sooner or later the human being in you will yearn¹³ for the common bonds of humanity." 你身上的人性早晚会渴望同其他的人建立联系的。”

"Come and look at my pictures." “去看看我的画吧！”

"Have you ever thought of death?" “你想到过死吗？”

"Why should I? It doesn't matter." “何必想到死？死有什么关系？”

I stared at him. 我凝望着他。

He stood before me, motionless, with a mocking smile in his eyes; 他一动不动地站在我面前，眼睛里闪着讥嘲的笑容。

but for all that, for a moment I had an inkling of a fiery¹⁴, tortured spirit, 但是尽管他脸上是这种神情，一瞬间我好象还是看到一个受折磨的、

aiming at something greater than could be conceived by anything that was bound up with the flesh. 炽热的灵魂正在追逐某种远非血肉之躯所能想象的伟大的东西。

I had a fleeting¹⁵ glimpse of a pursuit of the ineffable¹⁶. 我瞥见的是对某种无法描述的事物的热烈追求。

I looked at the man before me in his shabby clothes, with his great nose and shining eyes, his red beard and untidy hair; 我凝视着站在我面前的这个人，衣服褴褛，生着一个大鼻子和炯炯发光的眼睛，火红的胡须，蓬乱的头发。

and I had a strange sensation that it was only an envelope, and I was in the presence of a disembodied spirit. 我有一个奇怪的感觉，这一切只不过是个外壳，我真正看到的是一个脱离了躯体的灵魂。

"Let us go and look at your pictures," I said. “好吧，去看看你的画吧。”我说。

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