马丁·伊登(外研社双语读库)(txt+pdf+epub+mobi电子书下载)

作者：Jack London 杰克·伦敦

出版社：外语教学与研究出版社

格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT

马丁·伊登(外研社双语读库)试读：

CHAPTER I

第一章

The one opened the door with a latch-key and went in, followed by a young fellow who awkwardly removed his cap. He wore rough clothes that smacked of the sea, and he was manifestly out of place in the spacious hall in which he found himself. He did not know what to do with his cap, and was stuffing it into his coat pocket when the other took it from him. The act was done quietly and naturally, and the awkward young fellow appreciated it. "He understands," was his thought. "He'll see me through all right."

那人拿一把弹簧钥匙开了门，然后走了进来，后面跟着一个小伙子。这小伙子笨拙地脱下了便帽。他穿的粗布衣服带着海洋的咸味，发现自己身处这宽敞的大厅，他明显感到很拘束。他不知道该怎么处置自己的帽子，正要塞进外套口袋时，另外那个人便接了过去。那人的动作是如此自然且不露声色，笨拙的小伙子不禁对此充满感激。“他了解我。”他心想。“他定会帮我度过这一切的。”

He walked at the other's heels with a swing to his shoulders, and his legs spread unwittingly, as if the level floors were tilting up and sinking down to the heave and lunge of the sea. The wide rooms seemed too narrow for his rolling gait, and to himself he was in terror lest his broad shoulders should collide with the doorways or sweep the bric-a-brac from the low mantel. He recoiled from side to side between the various objects and multiplied the hazards that in reality lodged only in his mind. Between a grand piano and a centre-table piled high with books was space for a half a dozen to walk abreast, yet he essayed it with trepidation. His heavy arms hung loosely at his sides. He did not know what to do with those arms and hands, and when, to his excited vision, one arm seemed liable to brush against the books on the table, he lurched away like a frightened horse, barely missing the piano stool. He watched the easy walk of the other in front of him, and for the first time realized that his walk was different from that of other men. He experienced a momentary pang of shame that he should walk so uncouthly. The sweat burst through the skin of his forehead in tiny beads, and he paused and mopped his bronzed face with his handkerchief.

他紧跟在那人身后走着，摇晃着肩膀，双腿不自觉地张开，似乎那平坦的地板正随着海浪左右倾斜、上下颠簸。宽大的房间对他晃动的脚步来说似乎还是太窄了，而他自己也很紧张，唯恐自己宽阔的肩膀会撞上门框或是把低矮的壁炉架上的小摆设给扫到地上。他在各种物件之间闪来闪去，而那让那原本存在于他心里的恐惧感又成倍地增加了。一架大钢琴和屋子正中一张堆满书籍的桌子之间的空间可供六个人并行通过，但他却走得提心吊胆。他的胳膊十分沉重，松松地挂在身体两侧。他不知该拿自己的胳膊和双手怎么办，突然紧张地发现一条胳膊似乎快要撞到桌上的书了，于是像一匹受惊的马一般向旁边一个趔趄，几乎碰翻琴凳。他看着走在前面那人轻松的步伐，第一次意识到自己走路与别人不同。想到自己走路如此笨拙，他顿时感到难堪。细小的汗珠渗出他的前额，他停下来用手帕擦了擦他古铜色的脸。

"Hold on, Arthur, my boy," he said, attempting to mask his anxiety with facetious utterance. "This is too much all at once for yours truly. Give me a chance to get my nerve. You know I didn't want to come, an' I guess your fam'ly ain't hankerin' to see me neither."“等一下，阿瑟老兄。”他说道，想用句玩笑话来掩饰自己的紧张。“这一切对你家人来说确实太突然了。”让我先定定神。你知道我不想来的，我想你家人也未必想要见我。”

"That's all right," was the reassuring answer. "You mustn't be frightened at us. We're just homely people—Hello, there's a letter for me."“没事的，”阿瑟安慰道，“千万别被我家人吓到。我们只是普普通通的人——嘿，这儿还有一封我的信呢。”

He stepped back to the table, tore open the envelope, and began to read, giving the stranger an opportunity to recover himself. And the stranger understood and appreciated. His was the gift of sympathy, understanding; and beneath his alarmed exterior that sympathetic process went on. He mopped his forehead dry and glanced about him with a controlled face, though in the eyes there was an expression such as wild animals betray when they fear the trap. He was surrounded by the unknown, apprehensive of what might happen, ignorant of what he should do, aware that he walked and bore himself awkwardly, fearful that every attribute and power of him was similarly afflicted. He was keenly sensitive, hopelessly self-conscious, and the amused glance that the other stole privily at him over the top of the letter burned into him like a dagger-thrust. He saw the glance, but he gave no sign, for among the things he had learned was discipline. Also, that dagger-thrust went to his pride. He cursed himself for having come, and at the same time resolved that, happen what would, having come, he would carry it through. The lines of his face hardened, and into his eyes came a fighting light. He looked about more unconcernedly, sharply observant, every detail of the pretty interior registering itself on his brain. His eyes were wide apart; nothing in their field of vision escaped; and as they drank in the beauty before them the fighting light died out and a warm glow took its place. He was responsive to beauty, and here was cause to respond.

他走回桌边，拆开信封看了起来，正好让这个客人有机会镇定一下。客人心里明白，也很感激。同情人、理解人是他的天赋；眼下，在他警觉的外表下，理解他人的机制仍在运转。他擦干了额头的汗珠，摆出平静的样子环视四周，但眼里却藏不住那种野兽害怕陷阱时露出的神色。他身处从未见过的事物之中，担心会发生什么，却又不知道自己该做什么，意识到自己的步伐和举止十分笨拙，害怕自己所有的特性和能力也会受到类似的折磨。他极度敏感，自我意识强烈得不可救药，而那人偏又越过信纸用饶有兴致的眼神偷偷打量他，那眼神如匕首般深深刺痛了他。他瞧见了那眼神，却不动声色，因为在他学到的本领中有一样叫做克制。那“匕首”同样伤到了他的自尊。他咒骂自己不该来，但同时也下定决心，不管发生什么，既然来了就一定要坚持下去。他脸部的线条变得僵硬，眼中闪现出一种拼搏的光芒。他更加满不在乎地打量起四周，目光敏锐，头脑中记录下了这华丽厅堂里的每一个细节。他双眼圆睁；目光所及之处，丝毫不漏；随着双眼痛饮着室内的美景，那拼搏的光渐渐变弱，最终被温暖的光所取代。他对美敏感，眼前的便是令他敏感的事物。

An oil painting caught and held him. A heavy surf thundered and burst over an outjutting rock; lowering storm-clouds covered the sky; and, outside the line of surf, a pilot-schooner, close-hauled, heeled over till every detail of her deck was visible, was surging along against a stormy sunset sky. There was beauty, and it drew him irresistibly. He forgot his awkward walk and came closer to the painting, very close. The beauty faded out of the canvas. His face expressed his bepuzzlement. He stared at what seemed a careless daub of paint, then stepped away. Immediately all the beauty flashed back into the canvas. "A trick picture," was his thought, as he dismissed it, though in the midst of the multitudinous impressions he was receiving he found time to feel a prod of indignation that so much beauty should be sacrificed to make a trick. He did not know painting. He had been brought up on chromos and lithographs that were always definite and sharp, near or far. He had seen oil paintings, it was true, in the show windows of shops, but the glass of the windows had prevented his eager eyes from approaching too near.

他被一幅油画吸引住了。巨浪轰鸣着在一块横空斜出的岩石上方爆裂开来；孕育着风暴的乌云低垂着布满天空；浪涛的轮廓线外是一艘领港船正在风暴将至的落日天空下迎风前进，船身倾斜着，甲板上的一切都清晰可见。这便是美，无可抗拒地吸引住了他。他忘掉了自己笨拙的步伐，向那幅画靠近，靠得非常近。美从画布上消失了。他的脸色表达了他的困惑。他瞪着那片仿佛是胡乱涂抹的画，然后走开了。那美又瞬间全部回到了画布上。“一幅错觉画。”他转身走开时想，在纷至沓来的众多印象中，他还感到被愤怒刺了一下：那么多的美竟被用来做一幅错觉画。他不懂绘画。他从小只见过彩色石印和石版画，远看近看都是轮廓分明、线条清晰的。他也见过油画，这倒不假，是在商店的展示橱窗里，只是橱窗玻璃让他渴望的眼睛无法靠得太近。

He glanced around at his friend reading the letter and saw the books on the table. Into his eyes leaped a wistfulness and a yearning as promptly as the yearning leaps into the eyes of a starving man at sight of food. An impulsive stride, with one lurch to right and left of the shoulders, brought him to the table, where he began affectionately handling the books. He glanced at the titles and the authors' names, read fragments of text, caressing the volumes with his eyes and hands, and, once, recognized a book he had read. For the rest, they were strange books and strange authors. He chanced upon a volume of Swinburne and began reading steadily, forgetful of where he was, his face glowing. Twice he closed the book on his forefinger to look at the name of the author. Swinburne! he would remember that name. That fellow had eyes, and he had certainly seen color and flashing light. But who was Swinburne? Was he dead a hundred years or so, like most of the poets? Or was he alive still, and writing? He turned to the title-page…yes, he had written other books; well, he would go to the free library the first thing in the morning and try to get hold of some of Swinburne's stuff. He went back to the text and lost himself. He did not notice that a young woman had entered the room. The first he knew was when he heard Arthur's voice saying:—

他瞥了一眼还在看信的朋友，看见了桌上的书。他的眼中立即闪现出一种期待和渴望，就好像饥饿的人看到了食物那般。他冲动地迈出一大步，肩膀左右一晃便来到了桌边，在那里开始热切地翻阅起来。他浏览了书名和作者，读了些文章的片段，用眼神和双手爱抚书，有一次还认出了一本读过的书。而其余的书都是陌生的，作者也是陌生的。他偶然看起一本斯温伯恩的书，便一直看了下去，脸上放出光芒，全然忘了自己身处何地。他两次用食指插着合上书，好看看作者的名字。斯温伯恩！他会记住这个名字的。这家伙有眼光，他肯定把握住了色彩和那一闪即逝的光芒。但斯温伯格是谁呢？他也像大多数诗人那样已经死去一百多年了吗？抑或他仍然在世，仍在创作？他翻到书名页……是的，他还写过其他书；好吧，明早第一件事就是去免费图书馆，看能不能借到他的书籍。他重又看起书来，看得出了神。他没有注意到一位年轻女士已经进了房间。他首先注意到的是阿瑟的声音：

"Ruth, this is Mr. Eden."“鲁思，这位是伊登先生。”

The book was closed on his forefinger, and before he turned he was thrilling to the first new impression, which was not of the girl, but of her brother's words. Under that muscled body of his he was a mass of quivering sensibilities. At the slightest impact of the outside world upon his consciousness, his thoughts, sympathies, and emotions leapt and played like lambent flame. He was extraordinarily receptive and responsive, while his imagination, pitched high, was ever at work establishing relations of likeness and difference. "Mr. Eden," was what he had thrilled to—he who had been called "Eden," or "Martin Eden," or just "Martin," all his life. And "Mister!"It was certainly going some, was his internal comment. His mind seemed to turn, on the instant, into a vast camera obscura, and he saw arrayed around his consciousness endless pictures from his life, of stoke-holes and forecastles, camps and beaches, jails and boozing-kens, fever-hospitals and slum streets, wherein the thread of association was the fashion in which he had been addressed in those various situations.

他把食指插在书中合上书，还没转过身来就已经为这崭新的第一印象而激动了，但这并非因为那女孩，而是因为她哥哥的话。在他肌肉发达的身体下面，布满了颤抖的敏感神经。外部世界对他意识最轻微的刺激也能使他的思想、感受和情绪犹如摇曳的火焰一样跳动起来。他异常善于接纳和回应，而他的想象力活跃，总在为事物的异同建立着联系。正是“伊登先生”这个称呼使他激动——他一生都被人称为“伊登”、“马丁·伊登”或者只是“马丁”。现在成了“先生”！这实在是太妙了，他心想。他的头脑似乎立刻化为一台巨大的投影仪，在他的意识中呈现出无数的生活画面：锅炉舱和水手舱、帐篷和海滩、监狱和酒吧、高烧病房和贫民窟的街道，在各种各样的环境中别人跟他的关系都表现在对他的那些称呼上。

And then he turned and saw the girl. The phantasmagoria of his brain vanished at sight of her. She was a pale, ethereal creature, with wide, spiritual blue eyes and a wealth of golden hair. He did not know how she was dressed, except that the dress was as wonderful as she. He likened her to a pale gold flower upon a slender stem. No, she was a spirit, a divinity, a goddess; such sublimated beauty was not of the earth. Or perhaps the books were right, and there were many such as she in the upper walks of life. She might well be sung by that chap, Swinburne. Perhaps he had had somebody like her in mind when he painted that girl, Iseult, in the book there on the table. All this plethora of sight, and feeling, and thought occurred on the instant. There was no pause of the realities wherein he moved. He saw her hand coming out to his, and she looked him straight in the eyes as she shook hands, frankly, like a man. The women he had known did not shake hands that way. For that matter, most of them did not shake hands at all. A flood of associations, visions of various ways he had made the acquaintance of women, rushed into his mind and threatened to swamp it. But he shook them aside and looked at her. Never had he seen such a woman. The women he had known! Immediately, beside her, on either hand, ranged the women he had known. For an eternal second he stood in the midst of a portrait gallery, wherein she occupied the central place, while about her were limned many women, all to be weighed and measured by a fleeting glance, herself the unit of weight and measure. He saw the weak and sickly faces of the girls of the factories, and the simpering, boisterous girls from the south of Market. There were women of the cattle camps, and swarthy cigarette-smoking women of Old Mexico. These, in turn, were crowded out by Japanese women, doll-like, stepping mincingly on wooden clogs; by Eurasians, delicate featured, stamped with degeneracy; by full-bodied South-Sea-Island women, flower-crowned and brown-skinned. All these were blotted out by a grotesque and terrible nightmare brood—frowsy, shuffling creatures from the pavements of Whitechapel, gin-bloated hags of the stews, and all the vast hell's following of harpies, vile-mouthed and filthy, that under the guise of monstrous female form prey upon sailors, the scrapings of the ports, the scum and slime of the human pit.

然后他转过身来，看到了那个女孩。一见到她，他脑中的种种幻影便都消失不见了。她脸色苍白、体态轻盈，有一对超凡脱俗的蓝色大眼睛，还有一头浓密的金发。他不知道她的穿着如何，只知道她的衣服跟她本人一样好看。他将她比作一朵嫩枝上的淡淡金花。不对，她是个精灵，是个仙子，是个女神；她那升华了的美绝不属于人世间。也许书里说的是对的，在上流社会里有许许多多像她这样的美。她可能也被斯温伯恩那个家伙歌唱过。或许当他描绘桌上那本书里的伊索尔特时，心中想的便是这样一个女孩。所有这些大量的景象、情感和思绪都发生在顷刻间。而在他所处的现实中，一切都不曾中断。他看见她向自己伸出手来，握手时像男人般坦率地直视着他的双眼。他所认识的那些女人可不这样握手。事实上，她们中的大多数根本不和人握手。一阵联想袭来，他结识女人的各种方式涌进他的脑袋，几乎把他淹没。但他把它们甩在一边，只看着她。他从没见过这样一个女人。他所认识的那些女人呀！她们顷刻间在她的两边排列开来。在那永恒的瞬间，他身处一家肖像画廊内，中心位置为她所占据，很多其他女人出现在她的四周，飞快地瞥一眼便能知道她们的体重和尺寸，而她便是衡量的标准。他看到脸色憔悴的工厂女孩和市场南面傻笑喧闹的女孩。还有牧牛区的女人和墨西哥抽烟的黑皮肤老妇女。这些形象转而又被玩偶般走着碎步、脚踩木屐的日本妇女所取代，被面容姣好却又刻上了堕落烙印的欧亚混血儿取代，被身材魁梧、头戴花环、褐色皮肤的南海岛屿妇女所取代。而所有这些形象全都让位给了一群奇形怪状、噩梦般的女人——怀特察普尔人行道上散发着臭味、躲躲闪闪的女人，贫民窟里醉醺醺的妓女，还有一大群地狱来的悍妇，她们满嘴脏话，肮脏下流，乔装成凶悍的妇女来掠夺水手，搜索着港口的垃圾和贫民窟的残渣。

"Won't you sit down, Mr. Eden?" the girl was saying.“请坐，伊登先生，”那女孩说道，

"I have been looking forward to meeting you ever since Arthur told us. It was brave of you—”“自从阿瑟告诉我们之后我就一直盼望着见到你。你真勇敢……”

He waved his hand deprecatingly and muttered that it was nothing at all, what he had done, and that any fellow would have done it. She noticed that the hand he waved was covered with fresh abrasions, in the process of healing, and a glance at the other loose-hanging hand showed it to be in the same condition. Also, with quick, critical eye, she noted a scar on his cheek, another that peeped out from under the hair of the forehead, and a third that ran down and disappeared under the starched collar. She repressed a smile at sight of the red line that marked the chafe of the collar against the bronzed neck. He was evidently unused to stiff collars. Likewise her feminine eye took in the clothes he wore, the cheap and unaesthetic cut, the wrinkling of the coat across the shoulders, and the series of wrinkles in the sleeves that advertised bulging biceps muscles.

他不以为然地挥了挥手，含糊不清地表示那根本不算什么，任何人都会像他那么做的。她注意到他挥动的那只手上有尚未愈合的擦伤，瞥了一眼另一只松垂着的手，发现也是情况一样。再迅速地一打量，她发现他脸颊上有一道伤疤，前额的头发下也露出一道，还有一道顺脖子而下消失在浆硬的领子里。她看到他那古铜色的脖子上被领子磨出的红印时差点笑了出来。他显然适应不了硬领。同样，她那女性的眼睛也注意到了他的衣服，那廉价而缺乏品位的剪裁，外套肩以及袖子上一道道褶皱像在为他那鼓起的二头肌做广告。

While he waved his hand and muttered that he had done nothing at all, he was obeying her behest by trying to get into a chair. He found time to admire the ease with which she sat down, then lurched toward a chair facing her, overwhelmed with consciousness of the awkward figure he was cutting. This was a new experience for him. All his life, up to then, he had been unaware of being either graceful or awkward. Such thoughts of self had never entered his mind. He sat down gingerly on the edge of the chair, greatly worried by his hands. They were in the way wherever he put them. Arthur was leaving the room, and Martin Eden followed his exit with longing eyes. He felt lost, alone there in the room with that pale spirit of a woman. There was no bar-keeper upon whom to call for drinks, no small boy to send around the corner for a can of beer and by means of that social fluid start the amenities of friendship flowing.

他挥手并含糊地表示自己并没做什么时，也打算遵从她的要求找椅子坐下。他抽空欣赏了她坐下时的轻松优雅，便跌跌撞撞地走向她对面的一把椅子，心中完全明白自己的样子是多么笨拙。这对他来说是种新的体验。直到刚才之前，他一辈子也没留意过外表的优雅或是笨拙。这种自我意识从没进过他的脑袋。他小心翼翼地在椅子边缘坐下，同时非常担心他的双手。不管放在哪里，它们都很碍事。阿瑟离开了房间，马丁·伊登不情愿地看着他走掉。与那苍白的、仙女般的女人独处一室使他感到不知所措。这里没有酒吧老板可以叫酒来喝，也没有小孩可以打发去街角买啤酒，因此没法用社交的饮料来开始亲密的友谊。

"You have such a scar on your neck, Mr. Eden," the girl was saying. "How did it happen? I am sure it must have been some adventure."“你脖子上有那样一条伤疤，伊登先生，”那女孩说道，“那是怎么来的？我确信那一定是次冒险。”

"A Mexican with a knife, miss," he answered, moistening his parched lips and clearing hip throat. "It was just a fight. After I got the knife away, he tried to bite off my nose."“被一个墨西哥人用刀划伤的，小姐，”他舔了舔干渴的嘴唇，清了清嗓子回答道，“只不过是打架而已。我把他的刀弄掉以后，他还想把我的鼻子给咬掉。”

Baldly as he had stated it, in his eyes was a rich vision of that hot, starry night at Salina Cruz,the white strip of beach, the lights of the sugar steamers in the harbor, the voices of the drunken sailors in the distance, the jostling stevedores, the flaming passion in the Mexican's face, the glint of the beast-eyes in the starlight, the sting of the steel in his neck, and the rush of blood, the crowd and the cries, the two bodies, his and the Mexican's, locked together, rolling over and over and tearing up the sand, and from away off somewhere the mellow tinkling of a guitar. Such was the picture, and he thrilled to the memory of it, wondering if the man could paint it who had painted the pilot-schooner on the wall. The white beach, the stars, and the lights of the sugar steamers would look great, he thought, and midway on the sand the dark group of figures that surrounded the fighters. The knife occupied a place in the picture, he decided, and would show well, with a sort of gleam, in the light of the stars. But of all this no hint had crept into his speech. "He tried to bite off my nose," he concluded.

尽管说得不好，但他眼前却浮现出了萨利纳克鲁斯那个炎热的星夜里各种的景象。有狭长的白色海滩，港口运糖船的灯光，远处醉酒的水手们的声音，熙熙攘攘的码头苦力，墨西哥人脸上那火热的怒气，星光下那露出凶光的野兽般的眼睛，钢刀在自己脖子上的那种刺痛，那喷涌而出的鲜血，那人群，那叫喊，他和墨西哥人的躯体纠缠翻滚，沙尘飞扬，遥远的某处传来动听的吉他声。这便是那幅画，现在想起来也还是令他激动，他想知道画出墙上领航船那幅画的画家是否能把这个场景也画下来。他想，那白色的沙滩、点点的星光、运糖船的灯火，还有沙滩中间围观打斗者的黑压压的人群，若是画出来一定会很棒。他决定在画里给那把刀留个位置，如果在星光下带点闪光那就更棒了。但这一切他都丝毫没有提及。“他还想把我的鼻子给咬掉。”他结束了回答。

"Oh," the girl said, in a faint, far voice, and he noticed the shock in her sensitive face.“啊。”那女孩说，声音微弱而遥远，他注意到她敏感的脸上显露出的震惊。

He felt a shock himself, and a blush of embarrassment shone faintly on his sunburned cheeks, though to him it burned as hotly as when his cheeks had been exposed to the open furnace-door in the fire-room. Such sordid things as stabbing affrays were evidently not fit subjects for conversation with a lady. People in the books, in her walk of life, did not talk about such things—perhaps they did not know about them, either.

他自己也感到震惊，被太阳晒黑的脸颊因尴尬而微微有些发红，尽管事实上他已燥热得仿佛暴露在锅炉舱敞开的炉门前。打架动刀子这类低贱的事显然不适合成为与一位女士交谈的话题。书里的人们，她那个阶层的人们，是不会谈论这类事的——或许他们根本不知道这类事。

There was a brief pause in the conversation they were trying to get started. Then she asked tentatively about the scar on his cheek. Even as she asked, he realized that she was making an effort to talk his talk, and he resolved to get away from it and talk hers.

他们努力想要开始的谈话稍稍停顿了一下。然后她试探性地问起他脸上的伤疤。她的问话刚一出口，他便意识到她正努力着谈自己的话题，便决定抛开这个话题转而去谈她的话题。

"It was just an accident," he said, putting his hand to his cheek. "One night, in a calm, with a heavy sea running, the main-boom-lift carried away, an' next the tackle. The lift was wire, an' it was threshin' around like a snake. The whole watch was tryin' to grab it, an' I rushed in an' got swatted."“只是一次意外罢了，”他边说边用手摸了摸脸颊，“一天晚上，一丝风也没有，却碰上了湍急的海流，主吊杆的吊索断了，接着复滑车也坏了。吊索是钢缆做的，像蛇一样猛烈抽打着。所有值班水手都想抓住它，我冲了上去，然后就挨了一鞭。”

"Oh," she said, this time with an accent of comprehension, though secretly his speech had been so much Greek to her and she was wondering what a lift was and what swatted meant.“啊。”她说。这次带着理解的口气，尽管暗地里觉得他说的话简直无法理解，她不知道什么是“吊索”，也不知道“挨了一鞭”是何种感受。

"This man Swineburne," he began, attempting to put his plan into execution and pronouncing the i long.“这个叫斯外温伯恩的人。”他说道，打算执行自己的计划，却把“斯温”念成了“斯外恩”。

"Who?"“谁？”

"Swineburne," he repeated, with the same mispronunciation. "The poet."“斯外恩伯恩，”他重复道，但还是念错了音，“那个诗人。”

"Swinburne," she corrected.“是斯温伯恩。”她纠正道。

"Yes, that's the chap," he stammered, his cheeks hot again. "How long since he died?"“没错，就是那个家伙，”他结结巴巴地说，脸颊又发热了，“他死了有多久了？”

"Why, I haven't heard that he was dead."She looked at him curiously. "Where did you make his acquaintance?"“什么？我没听说他死了呀。”她莫名其妙地望着他。“你在哪里认识他的？”

"I never clapped eyes on him," was the reply. "But I read some of his poetry out of that book there on the table just before you come in. How do you like his poetry?"“我可没见过他，”他回答说，“不过在你进来前我倒是从桌上的那本书里读了几首他的诗。你觉得他的诗怎么样？”

And thereat she began to talk quickly and easily upon the subject he had suggested. He felt better, and settled back slightly from the edge of the chair, holding tightly to its arms with his hands, as if it might get away from him and buck him to the floor. He had succeeded in making her talk her talk, and while she rattled on, he strove to follow her, marvelling at all the knowledge that was stowed away in that pretty head of hers, and drinking in the pale beauty of her face. Follow her he did, though bothered by unfamiliar words that fell glibly from her lips and by critical phrases and thought-processes that were foreign to his mind, but that nevertheless stimulated his mind and set it tingling. Here was intellectual life, he thought, and here was beauty, warm and wonderful as he had never dreamed it could be. He forgot himself and stared at her with hungry eyes. Here was something to live for, to win to, to fight for—ay, and die for. The books were true. There were such women in the world. She was one of them. She lent wings to his imagination, and great, luminous canvases spread themselves before him whereon loomed vague, gigantic figures of love and romance, and of heroic deeds for woman's sake—for a pale woman, a flower of gold. And through the swaying, palpitant vision, as through a fairy mirage, he stared at the real woman, sitting there and talking of literature and art. He listened as well, but he stared, unconscious of the fixity of his gaze or of the fact that all that was essentially masculine in his nature was shining in his eyes. But she, who knew little of the world of men, being a woman, was keenly aware of his burning eyes. She had never had men look at her in such fashion, and it embarrassed her. She stumbled and halted in her utterance. The thread of argument slipped from her. He frightened her, and at the same time it was strangely pleasant to be so looked upon. Her training warned her of peril and of wrong, subtle, mysterious, luring; while her instincts rang clarion-voiced through her being, impelling her to hurdle caste and place and gain to this traveller from another world, to this uncouth young fellow with lacerated hands and a line of raw red caused by the unaccustomed linen at his throat, who, all too evidently, was soiled and tainted by ungracious existence. She was clean, and her cleanness revolted; but she was woman, and she was just beginning to learn the paradox of woman.

于是她便就他提起的话题轻松、快速地谈了起来。他感觉好多了，从椅子边缘稍稍往后靠了靠，并紧紧地握住扶手，生怕它会挣脱，把他摔在地上。他成功地使她谈起了她的话题。她侃侃而谈，他则努力跟上，他惊讶于她那美丽的脑袋竟装了那么多知识，同时也尽情欣赏着她那苍白而美丽的脸庞。他跟上了她的话，尽管她唇边不经意流淌出的陌生词汇、评论术语和他从未知晓的思维过程使他感到有些吃力，但仍刺激了他的头脑，使之兴奋。这便是智力生活，他想，这便是美，连做梦都想不到它竟是如此温暖、美好。他忘却了自我，饥渴的双眼紧盯着她。这便是一个人为之生活、为之奋斗、为之争取的东西——是的，为之献出生命的东西。那些书说的是对的。世上确有这样的女子。她便是其中之一。她为他的想象插上翅膀，巨大而光辉的画布在他眼前展开，画布上隐约可见的模糊而巨大的形象，那是爱情，是浪漫故事，是为女人而做出的英雄事迹——为一个苍白的女人，一朵金色的花朵。那摇晃、悸动的景象犹如仙女创造的海市蜃楼，透过它，他凝视着这个坐在那里谈论文学与艺术的真实的女人。他同样倾听着，但完全没有意识到自己已目不转睛，也不知道自己眼中闪耀的正是他天性中的阳刚之气。她虽对男人的世界所知甚少，但身为一个女人，还是敏锐地察觉到了他火热的眼神。她从未见过男人这般看她，这使她局促不安。她说话变得结巴，没有再说下去。思路离她而去。他把她吓到了，但同时，被这样看着她竟出奇地感到愉快。她的教养警告她有危险，有不应有的、微妙的、神秘的诱惑；但她的本能却发出了嘹亮的呐喊，穿透她的身体，驱使她克服阶级、地位和得失的障碍奔向这个来自另一个世界的旅人，奔向这个手上有伤、喉咙被不习惯的亚麻布磨出红印的粗俗的年轻人，这个年轻人很明显已经受了粗野生活方式的污染。她是纯洁的，她的纯洁令她对这个年轻人感到抵触；但她同时又是女人，她刚开始体会到女人的矛盾。

"As I was saying—what was I saying?”She broke off abruptly and laughed merrily at her predicament.“就像我刚才说的——我刚才说什么来着？”她突然不说话了，快活地嘲笑起自己的狼狈处境。

"You was saying that this man Swinburne failed bein' a great poet because—an' that was as far as you got, miss," he prompted, while to himself he seemed suddenly hungry, and delicious little thrills crawled up and down his spine at the sound of her laughter. Like silver, he thought to himself, like tinkling silver bells; and on the instant, and for an instant, he was transported to a far land, where under pink cherry blossoms, he smoked a cigarette and listened to the bells of the peaked pagoda calling straw-sandalled devotees to worship.“你刚才说这个斯温伯恩没能成为一个伟大的诗人是因为——就是说到这，小姐。”他提示道，而他自己似乎突然感到很饥饿，听到她的笑声，一阵阵美味的小激动在他的脊梁上来回爬行。他心想，这就像个叮当作响的银色铃铛；转瞬间他被传送到了一个遥远的国度。他在那儿的粉色的樱花树下停留了片刻，抽着烟聆听那有层层飞檐的宝塔上传来的铃声，这铃声召唤脚穿草鞋的善男信女前去膜拜。

"Yes, thank you," she said. "Swinburne fails, when all is said, because he is, well, indelicate. There are many of his poems that should never be read. Every line of the really great poets is filled with beautiful truth, and calls to all that is high and noble in the human. Not a line of the great poets can be spared without impoverishing the world by that much."“是的，谢谢你，”她说，“归根到底，斯温伯恩失败是因为他不够文雅。他的很多诗，人们永远不应该去读。真正伟大的诗人的每一行诗句都充满了优美的真理，向人性中所有高尚的品行发出召唤。伟大诗人的诗句一行也删除不得，每删去一行都是世界的一大损失。”

"I thought it was great," he said hesitatingly, "the little I read. I had no idea he was such a—a scoundrel. I guess that crops out in his other books.”“我倒觉得他的诗很棒，”他迟疑地说，“至少就我读到的那一小部分来说。我不知道他是这样一个——无赖。我猜那体现在他的其他书里吧。”

"There are many lines that could be spared from the book you were reading," she said, her voice primly firm and dogmatic.“你读的那本书里也有很多诗行是可以删去的。”她说，口气一本正经而且武断。

"I must 'a' missed 'em," he announced. "What I read was the real goods. It was all lighted up an' shining, an' it shun right into me an' lighted me up inside, like the sun or a searchlight. That's the way it landed on me, but I guess I ain't up much on poetry, miss."“我肯定错过那部分了，”他声称，“我读到的都是真正的好东西。全都光辉、闪亮，像太阳或是探照灯一样一直照到我的心里，让里面也亮了起来。它给我的感觉就是这样，不过我想我不是很懂诗，小姐。”

He broke off lamely. He was confused, painfully conscious of his inarticulateness. He had felt the bigness and glow of life in what he had read, but his speech was inadequate. He could not express what he felt, and to himself he likened himself to a sailor, in a strange ship, on a dark night, groping about in the unfamiliar running rigging. Well, he decided, it was up to him to get acquainted in this new world. He had never seen anything that he couldn't get the hang of when he wanted to and it was about time for him to want to learn to talk the things that were inside of him so that she could understand. She was bulking large on his horizon.

他感到自己的话站不住脚便住了嘴。他感到局促不安，痛苦地意识到自己多么不会说话。他从读到的诗句中感受到了生命的宏大和辉煌，只是言不达意。他表达不了自己的感受，他将自己比作一个水手，在陌生的船上，在漆黑的夜里，在自己不熟悉的运转的索具之间摸索。好吧，他决定，熟悉这个新世界就靠他自己了。还从来没有一样东西的窍门是他想要找到却找不到的，也是时候试着谈谈自己知道的东西了，好让她能了解。在他的地平线上，她显得越来越高大。

"Now Longfellow—” she was saying.“至于朗费罗——”她说道。

"Yes, I've read 'm," he broke in impulsively, spurred on to exhibit and make the most of his little store of book knowledge, desirous of showing her that he was not wholly a stupid clod. “'The Psalm of Life,' 'Excelsior,' an'…I guess that's all."“哦，我读过他的书。”他冲动地插嘴道，急于展现和充分利用他那少得可怜的书本知识，急于让她知道自己并不完全是个蠢蛋。“《人生颂》、《精益求精》，还有……估计就这些了。”

She nodded her head and smiled, and he felt, somehow, that her smile was tolerant, pitifully tolerant. He was a fool to attempt to make a pretence that way. That Longfellow chap most likely had written countless books of poetry.

她点了点头，笑了笑，不知怎么，他觉得她的笑透露出一种宽容，同情的宽容。他那样假装内行简直愚蠢极了。那个叫朗费罗的家伙很可能写了无数本诗集。

"Excuse me, miss, for buttin' in that way. I guess the real facts is that I don't know nothin' much about such things. It ain't in my class. But I'm goin' to make it in my class."“请原谅我，小姐，我不该那样插嘴。我想，事实上对这类东西我一点也不懂。对这东西我不在行。不过我会努力使自己在行的。”

It sounded like a threat. His voice was determined, his eyes were flashing, the lines of his face had grown harsh. And to her it seemed that the angle of his jaw had changed; its pitch had become unpleasantly aggressive. At the same time a wave of intense virility seemed to surge out from him and impinge upon her.

这听起来像是一种威胁。他的语气很坚定，双眼闪烁着光芒，脸部的线条变得僵硬。而在她看来，他下巴的角度变了，倾斜得有点咄咄逼人，使人不快。同时，一股强烈的男子气概冲出他的身体，向她扑来。

"I think you could make it in—in your class," she finished with a laugh. "You are very strong."“我想你会使自己——在行的，”她笑着结束了自己的话，“你非常强壮。”

Her gaze rested for a moment on the muscular neck, heavy corded, almost bull-like, bronzed by the sun, spilling over with rugged health and strength. And though he sat there, blushing and humble, again she felt drawn to him. She was surprised by a wanton thought that rushed into her mind. It seemed to her that if she could lay her two hands upon that neck that all its strength and vigor would flow out to her. She was shocked by this thought. It seemed to reveal to her an undreamed depravity in her nature. Besides, strength to her was a gross and brutish thing. Her ideal of masculine beauty had always been slender gracefulness. Yet the thought still persisted. It bewildered her that she should desire to place her hands on that sunburned neck. In truth, she was far from robust, and the need of her body and mind was for strength. But she did not know it. She knew only that no man had ever affected her before as this one had, who shocked her from moment to moment with his awful grammar.

她的目光在他肌肉发达的脖子上停留了一会儿，他那被太阳晒成古铜色的脖子青筋暴起，犹如公牛一般，洋溢着粗犷的健康与力量。尽管他只是坐在那里，红着脸还有点谦卑，但她再一次感到被他所吸引。一个放肆的念头冲进她的脑中，让她大吃一惊。似乎她觉得如果把自己的双手放在他的脖子上，那么他的力量和活力便会流进她的体内。她被这个念头吓坏了。这似乎向她揭露了一种她做梦也想不到的邪恶天性。何况在她看来，力量本是样庸俗粗鲁的东西。她理想中的男性美一向都是修长优雅的。然而刚才那个想法还是挥之不去。她竟然渴望将双手放在那被太阳晒黑的脖子上，这令她困惑。事实上，她自己一点也不强壮，而她的身体和心灵需要的正是力量。只是她自己并不知道。她只知道从没有一个男人能像眼前这人一样影响自己，反而一次又一次用他糟糕的语法令她震惊。

"Yes, I ain't no invalid," he said. "When it comes down to hard-pan, I can digest scrap-iron. But just now I've got dyspepsia. Most of what you was sayin' I can't digest. Never trained that way, you see. I like books and poetry, and what time I've had I've read 'em, but I've never thought about 'em the way you have. That's why I can't talk about 'em. I'm like a navigator adrift on a strange sea without chart or compass. Now I want to get my bearin's. Mebbe you can put me right. How did you learn all this you've ben talkin'?"“没错，我可没有缺胳膊少腿，”他说，“日子不好过时候，我可是连碎铁片都能消化的。不过我刚才倒是有点消化不良。你说的大部分话我都消化不了。你知道，我从没受过那种训练。我喜欢书和诗，一有时间就读，但从没像你这样琢磨过它们。这就是为什么我没法谈论它们。我就像是个漂到了陌生海域的海员，手边却没有海图或是罗盘。我现在想找到自己的方向。或许你能帮我校准。你说的那些东西你都是怎么学来的？”

"By going to school, I fancy, and by studying," she answered.“我想是通过上学，通过学习。”她回答道。

"I went to school when I was a kid," he began to object.“我小时候也上过学。”他反驳道。

"Yes; but I mean high school, and lectures, and the university."“是的，但我是指中学、讲座，还有大学。”

"You've gone to the university?"he demanded in frank amazement. He felt that she had become remoter from him by at least a million miles.“你上过大学？”他问道，坦率地表达了自己的惊讶。他觉得她离自己更遥远了，至少有一百万英里。

"I'm going there now. I'm taking special courses in English."“我马上就要去了。我要学的是英文的专门课程。”

He did not know what "English" meant, but he made a mental note of that item of ignorance and passed on.

他并不清楚“英文”是什么意思，但他在脑子里记下了自己的无知，然后继续说了下去。

"How long would I have to study before I could go to the university?"he asked.“我想上大学的话得先学习多久？”他问道。

She beamed encouragement upon his desire for knowledge, and said: "That depends upon how much studying you have already done. You have never attended high school? Of course not. But did you finish grammar school?"

她用微笑来鼓励他对知识的渴望，并说：“这取决于你已经学到了多少知识。你从没上过中学？当然没有。那你小学毕业了吗？”

"I had two years to run, when I left," he answered. "But I was always honorably promoted at school."“我停学的时候还有两年要上，”他回答道，“不过我在学校的时候总是以成绩优秀而升级的。”

The next moment, angry with himself for the boast, he had gripped the arms of the chair so savagely that every finger-end was stinging. At the same moment he became aware that a woman was entering the room. He saw the girl leave her chair and trip swiftly across the floor to the newcomer. They kissed each other, and, with arms around each other's waists, they advanced toward him. That must be her mother, he thought. She was a tall, blond woman, slender, and stately, and beautiful. Her gown was what he might expect in such a house. His eyes delighted in the graceful lines of it. She and her dress together reminded him of women on the stage. Then he remembered seeing similar grand ladies and gowns entering the London theatres while he stood and watched and the policemen shoved him back into the drizzle beyond the awning. Next his mind leaped to the Grand Hotel at Yokohama, where, too, from the sidewalk, he had seen grand ladies. Then the city and the harbor of Yokohama, in a thousand pictures, began flashing before his eyes. But he swiftly dismissed the kaleidoscope of memory, oppressed by the urgent need of the present. He knew that he must stand up to be introduced, and he struggled painfully to his feet, where he stood with trousers bagging at the knees, his arms loose-hanging and ludicrous, his face set hard for the impending ordeal.

他马上就为自己吹嘘而生起自己的气来，便死命地握住扶手，每个指尖都感到刺痛。同时她意识到有个女人进了房间。他看到那个女孩离开椅子，穿过房间，轻快地走向这个新来的人。她们互相亲吻了对方，然后揽着彼此的腰向他走去。那一定是她的母亲，他想。她是位高个子的金发妇女，苗条、端庄而且美丽。她所穿的长袍是他预料在这样一所房子里会见到的那种。那优雅的线条令他看了感到愉悦。她和她所穿的衣服让他想起舞台上的女人。然后他记起曾见过类似的贵妇人穿着类似的长袍进入伦敦的剧院，而自己站着看的时候被警察赶到了雨棚外的蒙蒙细雨中。接着他的思维跳跃到了横滨大酒店，在那里的人行道上，他同样也见过许多贵妇人。横滨市和横滨港的千姿百态在他眼前飞速闪过。但他立刻结束了这万花筒般的回忆，因眼前有更紧急的需求。他知道自己必须站起来接受介绍，便痛苦地挣扎着站起身来，裤子的膝盖部分鼓胀着，双臂滑稽地松垂着，脸孔板着，准备迎接即将到来的严酷考验。

CHAPTER II

第二章

The process of getting into the dining room was a nightmare to him. Between halts and stumbles, jerks and lurches, locomotion had at times seemed impossible. But at last he had made it, and was seated alongside of Her. The array of knives and forks frightened him. They bristled with unknown perils, and he gazed at them, fascinated, till their dazzle became a background across which moved a succession of forecastle pictures, wherein he and his mates sat eating salt beef with sheath-knives and fingers, or scooping thick pea-soup out of pannikins by means of battered iron spoons. The stench of bad beef was in his nostrils, while in his ears, to the accompaniment of creaking timbers and groaning bulkheads, echoed the loud mouth-noises of the eaters. He watched them eating, and decided that they ate like pigs. Well, he would be careful here. He would make no noise. He would keep his mind upon it all the time.

对他来说，进入餐厅的过程就是一场噩梦。他停顿、跌撞、闪避、蹒跚，他有时几乎难以前行。但最终他还是走到了，并坐在了她的身旁。刀叉的阵势让他害怕。它们带着未知的危险竖立在那里，他出神地望着它们，直到那炫目的光芒变成一个背景，其对面是一幅幅水手舱的画面，画面中他和伙伴们正坐着用带鞘的刀和手指吃咸牛肉，或正用磨损坏的铁匙从锅里舀浓浓的豌豆汤。他的鼻孔中充满了变质牛肉的臭味，同时耳中回响着同伴们吃饭时嘴中发出的大声的咀嚼声，伴着木头的嘎吱声和船舱的呻吟声。他看着他们吃饭，觉得他们吃饭的样子就像猪。那么，他在这里可得留神。吃饭可不能发出一点声响。他必须对此时刻保持警惕。

He glanced around the table. Opposite him was Arthur, and Arthur's brother, Norman. They were her brothers, he reminded himself, and his heart warmed toward them. How they loved each other, the members of this family! There flashed into his mind the picture of her mother, of the kiss of greeting, and of the pair of them walking toward him with arms entwined. Not in his world were such displays of affection between parents and children made. It was a revelation of the heights of existence that were attained in the world above. It was the finest thing yet that he had seen in this small glimpse of that world. He was moved deeply by appreciation of it, and his heart was melting with sympathetic tenderness. He had starved for love all his life. His nature craved love. It was an organic demand of his being. Yet he had gone without, and hardened himself in the process. He had not known that he needed love. Nor did he know it now. He merely saw it in operation, and thrilled to it, and thought it fine, and high, and splendid.

他朝桌子周围瞥了一眼。在他对面的是阿瑟和阿瑟的哥哥诺曼。他们都是她的兄弟，他提醒自己，不禁对他们心生暖意。这一家人是多么相亲相爱啊！此时他脑中又闪现出她母亲的样子、她俩见面亲吻以及手挽手走向他的场景。在他的世界里，父母与孩子之间是没有这类感情流露的。这揭示出上层社会的生活方式所达到的高度。这是他对那个世界短短的一瞥中所见到的最美好的东西。他欣赏它，并被它深深感动，因感同身受地体会到了那柔情，他的心正开始融化。他一生都在追求爱。他天性渴望爱。这是他身体必不可少的一种需求。然而他一直都未曾得到爱，并渐渐地变得僵硬麻木。他不知道原来自己需要爱。即便现在也不知道。他只是看到爱的流露而感到兴奋，认为它美好、崇高、光彩夺目。

He was glad that Mr. Morse was not there. It was difficult enough getting acquainted with her, and her mother, and her brother, Norman. Arthur he already knew somewhat. The father would have been too much for him, he felt sure. It seemed to him that he had never worked so hard in his life. The severest toil was child's play compared with this. Tiny nodules of moisture stood out on his forehead, and his shirt was wet with sweat from the exertion of doing so many unaccustomed things at once.

他很高兴莫尔斯先生并不在场。跟她、她母亲还有她哥哥诺曼熟识已经够难的了。他对阿瑟倒多少已经有点了解。他敢肯定，他绝对应付不了她的父亲。他觉得自己似乎一辈子都没有这么累过。与之相比，最繁重的差事也只能算是小孩子的游戏。一次要做这么多不习惯的事使他感到费劲，他的额头沁出细小的汗珠，衬衫也已被汗湿透。

He had to eat as he had never eaten before, to handle strange tools, to glance surreptitiously about and learn how to accomplish each new thing, to receive the flood of impressions that was pouring in upon him and being mentally annotated and classified;to be conscious of a yearning for her that perturbed him in the form of a dull, aching restlessness; to feel the prod of desire to win to the walk in life whereon she trod, and to have his mind ever and again straying off in speculation and vague plans of how to reach to her. Also, when his secret glance went across to Norman opposite him, or to any one else, to ascertain just what knife or fork was to be used in any particular occasion, that person's features were seized upon by his mind, which automatically strove to appraise them and to divine what they were—all in relation to her. Then he had to talk, to hear what was said to him and what was said back and forth, and to answer, when it was necessary, with a tongue prone to looseness of speech that required a constant curb. And to add confusion to confusion, there was the servant, an unceasing menace, that appeared noiselessly at his shoulder, a dire Sphinx that propounded puzzles and conundrums demanding instantaneous solution. He was oppressed throughout the meal by the thought of finger-bowls. Irrelevantly, insistently, scores of times, he wondered when they would come on and what they looked like. He had heard of such things, and now, sooner or later, somewhere in the next few minutes, he would see them, sit at table with exalted beings who used them—ay, and he would use them himself. And most important of all, far down and yet always at the surface of his thought, was the problem of how he should comport himself toward these persons. What should his attitude be? He wrestled continually and anxiously with the problem. There were cowardly suggestions that he should make believe, assume a part; and there were still more cowardly suggestions that warned him he would fail in such course, that his nature was not fitted to live up to it, and that he would make a fool of himself.

他必须按从未用过的方式吃饭，得使用陌生的餐具，要偷偷摸摸地左顾右盼来学习如何完成每件新事情，还要接受潮水般向他涌来的各种印象，在心里进行评注和分类；他意识到内心对她的向往，而这向往正以一种隐约而痛苦的不安令他心神不宁；他感到欲望催促着他，让他争取进入她的生活圈子，他不断地彷徨思索，模糊地计划着如何接近她。而且，当他偷偷打量对面的诺曼或别人以确定在什么时候用什么刀或叉的时候，那人的特征也印入他的脑中，同时脑子便不自觉地想要对这些特征进行评价、猜度——这一切都是因为她。他还得说话，听别人对他说了什么，听别人之间说了什么，必要时还得作出回应，而他的舌头又常常会管不住自己，需要时不时地勒住它。仆人也来给他添乱，不断地制造威胁，他就像个可怕的斯芬克斯，会无声地来到他的肩头，提出难题和谜语，还要让他立刻作答。整个用餐期间他都为洗指碗这个念头而烦恼。他无来由地、不断地、几十次地想起洗指碗，想知道它什么时候会出现、它长什么样子。他曾听说过这种东西，而现在他就要看到这东西了，或迟或早，肯定就在接下来的几分钟里，他正和用过这东西的高雅人士一同用餐——没错，他自己也要用它了。最重要的是，在他的思维深处有一个问题，而这个问题又时常浮现出来，那就是他在这些人面前应如何举止才能算得上得当。他的态度应该是怎样的？他不停地思索着这个问题，很是焦急。他曾懦弱地想要不懂装懂、装腔作势；他甚至更懦弱地警告自己，这事他绝不会成功，他的本性使他不够资格，只会让自己丢脸出丑。

It was during the first part of the dinner, struggling to decide upon his attitude, that he was very quiet. He did not know that his quietness was giving the lie to Arthur's words of the day before, when that brother of hers had announced that he was going to bring a wild man home to dinner and for them not to be alarmed, because they would find him an interesting wild man. Martin Eden could not have found it in him, just then, to believe that her brother could be guilty of such treachery—especially when he had been the means of getting this particular brother out of an unpleasant row. So he sat at table, perturbed by his own unfitness and at the same time charmed by all that went on about him. For the first time he realized that eating was something more than a utilitarian function. He was unaware of what he ate. It was merely food. He was feasting his love of beauty at this table where eating was an aesthetic function. It was an intellectual function, too. His mind was stirred. He heard words spoken that were meaningless to him, and other words that he had seen only in books and that no man or woman he had known was of large enough mental caliber to pronounce. When he heard such words dropping carelessly from the lips of the members of this marvellous family, her family, he thrilled with delight. The romance, and beauty, and high vigor of the books were coming true. He was in that rare and blissful state wherein a man sees his dreams stalk out from the crannies of fantasy and become fact.

晚餐的前半部分他还在为自己的态度而挣扎，因此一直非常安静。他不知道他的沉默使得阿瑟前一天的话成了假话，这个女孩的哥哥那时宣布他将带一个野蛮人回家吃饭，还叫他们不必担心，因为他们会发现这是个非常有意思的野蛮人。此时此刻的马丁·伊登不可能相信她哥哥竟会这样背叛自己——尤其是他还帮助这位哥哥摆脱了一场不愉快的争吵。所以此刻他坐在桌边，一面为自己的格格不入而烦恼，一面又为身边发生的一切而陶醉。他第一次意识到，原来吃饭不仅仅只有实用功能。他不知道自己吃的是什么。那不过是食物罢了。他尽情享用着对美的爱，在这张桌边，吃饭具有美学功能。它也具有智力功能。他的心灵受到了震撼。他听见有人在说他听不懂的词语，还有一些词语他在书上见过，而他所认识的男男女女中没有谁的智力水准高到能够把它们读出来。听到这些词语从这个了不起的家庭——她的家庭——成员口中漫不经心地流淌出来，他高兴得全身颤抖。书中的那些浪漫、美好、旺盛的活力都正变成现实。他正处于一种罕见的幸福状态，可以看见自己的梦想从幻想的裂缝中昂首阔步地走出来变成现实。

Never had he been at such an altitude of living, and he kept himself in the background, listening, observing, and pleasuring, replying in reticent monosyllables, saying, "Yes, miss," and "No, miss," to her, and "Yes, ma'am," and "No, ma'am," to her mother. He curbed the impulse, arising out of his sea-training, to say "Yes, sir," and "No, sir," to her brothers. He felt that it would be inappropriate and a confession of inferiority on his part—which would never do if he was to win to her. Also, it was a dictate of his pride.

他从未有过这样的高雅生活，他把自己置于不引人注意的位置，倾听着，观察着，满足着，仅用有限的单音节词回答她“是，小姐”，“不，小姐”；回答她的母亲时就说“是，夫人”，“不，夫人”。他克制住了海上训练造成的冲动，没有用“是，长官”和“不，长官”来回答她的两个哥哥。他觉得那样回答不合适，而且等于承认自己低人一等——如果想要得到她，就绝对不能那样回答。同时这也是自尊心的要求。

"By God!" he cried to himself, once; "I'm just as good as them, and if they do know lots that I don't, I could learn 'm a few myself, all the same!"And the next moment, when she or her mother addressed him as "Mr. Eden," his aggressive pride was forgotten, and he was glowing and warm with delight. He was a civilized man, that was what he was, shoulder to shoulder, at dinner, with people he had read about in books. He was in the books himself, adventuring through the printed pages of bound volumes.“老天作证！”他有一次对自己喊道，“我和他们一样好，就算他们的确知道很多我不知道的东西，我照样可以靠自己学会其中一些！”下一刻，不知是她还是她母亲叫了他一声“伊登先生”，他便忘记了他那傲慢的自尊，快活得脸上放光、全身暖洋洋的。他是个文明人，就是这样，正和他从书中读到的人一起肩并肩坐着吃晚餐。他自己也成了书中的人物，在印刷成册的合订本中冒险游历。

But while he belied Arthur's description, and appeared a gentle lamb rather than a wild man, he was racking his brains for a course of action. He was no gentle lamb, and the part of second fiddle would never do for the high-pitched dominance of his nature. He talked only when he had to, and then his speech was like his walk to the table, filled with jerks and halts as he groped in his polyglot vocabulary for words, debating over words he knew were fit but which he feared he could not pronounce, rejecting other words he knew would not be understood or would be raw and harsh. But all the time he was oppressed by the consciousness that this carefulness of diction was making a booby of him, preventing him from expressing what he had in him. Also, his love of freedom chafed against the restriction in much the same way his neck chafed against the starched fetter of a collar. Besides, he was confident that he could not keep it up. He was by nature powerful of thought and sensibility, and the creative spirit was restive and urgent. He was swiftly mastered by the concept or sensation in him that struggled in birth-throes to receive expression and form, and then he forgot himself and where he was, and the old words—the tools of speech he knew—slipped out.

尽管他使阿瑟的话落了空，表现得像头温顺的绵羊而不是一个野蛮人，但此时他正绞尽脑汁想做出些事情来。他可不是什么温顺的绵羊，第二提琴手的角色也绝不符合他天性中那高调的支配欲。他只在必要时说话，而他的话就像他走向餐桌时的步伐，磕磕绊绊，因为他得在他的多国语言中搜寻词汇，自我斗争是否该用合适却又怕自己发不好音的词，还要放弃另外一些他知道别人理解不了的词或是低俗粗鲁的词。但他一直感到压抑，因为意识到这样小心翼翼地说话只会让自己露出丑态，无法展现真正的自己。何况他对自由的热爱也被这些约束磨得难受，就像他的脖子被那僵硬的枷锁磨得生疼。此外，他也确信自己不能一直保持这样下去。他天性思维敏捷、感觉灵敏，创作灵感强烈到难以控制。他体内的想法或是感觉迅速控制了他，如经历产前的阵痛般挣扎着想要找到词句和形式，然后他便忘了自己，忘了自己身处何处，他的老一套话语——他所熟悉的语言工具——不知不觉溜了出来。

Once, he declined something from the servant who interrupted and pestered at his shoulder, and he said, shortly and emphatically, "Pew!"

一次，他拒绝了在他肩头打扰纠缠的仆人递来的东西，然后简短有力地说：“挪开！”

On the instant those at the table were keyed up and expectant, the servant was smugly pleased, and he was wallowing in mortification. But he recovered himself quickly.

桌边的人立刻都兴奋了起来，期待着下面会发生什么，那仆人也洋洋自得，而他却窘迫得无以复加。但他很快就镇定了下来。

"It's the Kanaka for 'finish,'" he explained, "and it just come out naturally. It's spelt p-a-u.”“这是夏威夷土著人的话，意思是‘行了’，”他解释道，“说习惯了。它的拼法是p-a-u。”

He caught her curious and speculative eyes fixed on his hands, and, being in explanatory mood, he said:—

他发现她正用好奇与猜测的目光盯着自己的手看，又正好有了解释的兴致，便说：

"I just come down the Coast on one of the Pacific mail steamers. She was behind time, an' around the Puget Sound ports we worked like niggers, storing cargo-mixed freight, if you know what that means. That's how the skin got knocked off."“我刚坐一艘太平洋蒸汽邮轮从太平洋沿岸来到这里。船已经误了期，在普吉湾的各个码头我们都像黑人一样干活，把各种货物装上船——如果你们知道那是什么意思的话。我手上的皮就是那样被蹭掉的。”

"Oh, it wasn't that," she hastened to explain, in turn. "Your hands seemed too small for your body."“哦，我不是那个意思，”这回轮到她来急忙解释了，“你的手跟你的身体相比似乎太小了。”

His cheeks were hot. He took it as an exposure of another of his deficiencies.

他的脸颊发烫。他把这当成对他缺点的又一次揭露。

"Yes," he said depreciatingly. "They ain't big enough to stand the strain. I can hit like a mule with my arms and shoulders. They are too strong, an' when I smash a man on the jaw the hands get smashed, too."“是的，”他轻蔑地说，“它们是不够大，受不了劳累。但我可以像骡子一样用手臂和肩膀打人。它们太有力了，我打碎别人下巴的时候，自己的手也会破掉。”

He was not happy at what he had said. He was filled with disgust at himself. He had loosed the guard upon his tongue and talked about things that were not nice.

他不喜欢自己说出的话。他心里充满了对自己的厌恶。他对自己的舌头放松了警惕，讲了些不体面的事情。

"It was brave of you to help Arthur the way you did—and you a stranger," she said tactfully, aware of his discomfiture though not of the reason for it.“你那样帮助阿瑟真是太勇敢了——而且你也不认识他。”她机智地说道，意识到了他的窘迫，尽管她不知道原因所在。

He, in turn, realized what she had done, and in the consequent warm surge of gratefulness that overwhelmed him forgot his loose-worded tongue.

他反而明白了她的意图，于是心中充满了感激的暖流，又忘了管好他那信口开河的舌头。

"It wasn't nothin' at all," he said. "Any guy 'ud do it for another. That bunch of hoodlums was lookin' for trouble, an' Arthur wasn't botherin' 'em none. They butted in on 'm, an' then I butted in on them an' poked a few. That's where some of the skin off my hands went, along with some of the teeth of the gang. I wouldn't 'a' missed it for anything. When I seen—”“这根本不算什么，”他说，“谁都会这么做的。那群流氓就是故意想闹事，阿瑟根本没惹他们。他们找阿瑟的茬儿，我就找他们的茬，抡了几拳头。我手上的几块皮就是这么不见的，一起不见的还有那帮家伙的几颗牙齿。我不会在乎的。当我看到——”

He paused, open-mouthed, on the verge of the pit of his own depravity and utter worthlessness to breathe the same air she did. And while Arthur took up the tale, for the twentieth time, of his adventure with the drunken hoodlums on the ferry-boat and of how Martin Eden had rushed in and rescued him, that individual, with frowning brows, meditated upon the fool he had made of himself, and wrestled more determinedly with the problem of how he should conduct himself toward these people. He certainly had not succeeded so far. He wasn't of their tribe, and he couldn't talk their lingo, was the way he put it to himself. He couldn't fake being their kind. The masquerade would fail, and besides, masquerade was foreign to his nature. There was no room in him for sham or artifice. Whatever happened, he must be real. He couldn't talk their talk just yet, though in time he would. Upon that he was resolved. But in the meantime, talk he must, and it must be his own talk, toned down, of course, so as to be comprehensible to them and so as not to shook them too much. And furthermore, he wouldn't claim, not even by tacit acceptance, to be familiar with anything that was unfamiliar. In pursuance of this decision, when the two brothers, talking university shop, had used "trig" several times, Martin Eden demanded:—

他在感到几乎要陷入自己堕落的深渊，完全不配和她呼吸同样的空气时，大张着嘴停住了。阿瑟第二十次提起自己在渡船上与那帮喝醉酒的流氓之间发生的冒险经历，以及马丁·伊登如何冲进来解救他，而此时马丁·伊登正皱着眉头想自己刚才的丑态，并更加坚定地思索着自己在这些人面前该如何举止。目前为止他当然还没有成功。他给自己的解释是，他不属于他们的圈子，不会讲他们的行话。他无法假装成他们那一类人。装模作样肯定会露馅，而且这也不符合他的本性。他心里容不下欺骗或是狡诈。不管怎样，他都必须真实。他只是现在还不会说他们那种话，不过他迟早会的。对这点他已经下定了决心。但现在话还是得说的，而且必须是他自己的话，声调要降低，这是必须的，这样他们才能听懂，才不会太过惊讶。此外，他不能对不熟悉的事假装熟悉，即便是默认也不行。为了遵循这个决定，当两位兄弟说起大学行话、几次谈到“三角”时，马丁·伊登问：

"What is trig?"“什么是‘三角’?"

"Trignometry," Norman said; "a higher form of math."“三角学，”诺曼说，“数学的一种高级形式。”

"And what is math?" was the next question, which, somehow, brought the laugh on Norman.“那‘数学’又是什么？”他接着问道，这使诺曼不禁发笑。

"Mathematics, arithmetic," was the answer.“数学，算术。”他回答说。

Martin Eden nodded. He had caught a glimpse of the apparently illimitable vistas of knowledge. What he saw took on tangibility. His abnormal power of vision made abstractions take on concrete form. In the alchemy of his brain, trigonometry and mathematics and the whole field of knowledge which they betokened were transmuted into so much landscape. The vistas he saw were vistas of green foliage and forest glades, all softly luminous or shot through with flashing lights. In the distance, detail was veiled and blurred by a purple haze, but behind this purple haze, he knew, was the glamour of the unknown, the lure of romance. It was like wine to him. Here was adventure, something to do with head and hand, a world to conquer—and straightway from the back of his consciousness rushed the thought, conquering, to win to her, that lily-pale spirit sitting beside him.

马丁·伊登点点头。他瞥见了那似乎无限广阔的知识远景的一角。他看见的东西变得具体了。他那不同寻常的想象力使得抽象的事物带上了具体的形态。他的大脑就像会炼金术，这家人所象征的三角学、数学和整个知识领域在他脑中被炼成了美丽的景色。他看见的远景中有绿叶、有林中空地，它们都闪着柔和的光，或是被闪亮的光穿透。远处，细节被一团紫色的雾霭罩住了，模糊不清，但他知道，在那紫色的雾霭后面是充满魅力的未知事物，是充满诱惑的浪漫故事。对他来说，这就像是美酒。这是一次冒险，要用到头脑和双手，这是一个等待征服的世界——一个念头立刻从他的意识背后闪出：要征服坐在他身旁的这个百合花般苍白的仙女并赢得她的芳心。

The glimmering vision was rent asunder and dissipated by Arthur, who, all evening, had been trying to draw his wild man out. Martin Eden remembered his decision. For the first time he became himself, consciously and deliberately at first, but soon lost in the joy of creating in making life as he knew it appear before his listeners' eyes. He had been a member of the crew of the smuggling schooner Halcyon when she was captured by a revenue cutter. He saw with wide eyes, and he could tell what he saw. He brought the pulsing sea before them, and the men and the ships upon the sea. He communicated his power of vision, till they saw with his eyes what he had seen. He selected from the vast mass of detail with an artist's touch, drawing pictures of life that glowed and burned with light and color, injecting movement so that his listeners surged along with him on the flood of rough eloquence, enthusiasm, and power. At times he shocked them with the vividness of the narrative and his terms of speech, but beauty always followed fast upon the heels of violence, and tragedy was relieved by humor, by interpretations of the strange twists and quirks of sailors' minds.

那闪烁着微光的幻象却被阿瑟撕成碎片驱散了，他整晚都在试图把这个野蛮人的本性引出来。马丁·伊登记起了自己的决定。他第一次变回了自己，起初还是自觉的、故意的，但马上就沉浸在将自己所知的生活呈现在听众面前的那种创造的快乐中。走私帆船哈尔西恩号被缉私船抓获时他是船上的船员。他亲眼目睹了那个过程，他可以讲讲这件事。他把波涛汹涌的大海以及海上的船和船员呈现在他们面前。他将他的印象传达给他们，直到他们所见与自己一致。他以艺术家般的触觉从大量细节中进行挑选，描绘出五光十色、燃烧放光的生活场景，并辅以动作，使他的听众们随着他在雄辩、激情和力量的粗犷波涛上起伏前进。有时他生动的描述和所用的词语让他们震惊，但美总是紧随暴力而来，悲剧之后又会有幽默来缓解，会有对奇异转折的诠释和水手们心中的俏皮话来缓解。

And while he talked, the girl looked at him with startled eyes. His fire warmed her. She wondered if she had been cold all her days. She wanted to lean toward this burning, blazing man that was like a volcano spouting forth strength, robustness, and health. She felt that she must lean toward him, and resisted by an effort. Then, too, there was the counter impulse to shrink away from him. She was repelled by those lacerated hands, grimed by toil so that the very dirt of life was ingrained in the flesh itself, by that red chafe of the collar and those bulging muscles. His roughness frightened her; each roughness of speech was an insult to her ear, each rough phase of his life an insult to her soul. And ever and again would come the draw of him, till she thought he must be evil to have such power over her. All that was most firmly established in her mind was rocking. His romance and adventure were battering at the conventions. Before his facile perils and ready laugh, life was no longer an affair of serious effort and restraint, but a toy, to be played with and turned topsy-turvy, carelessly to be lived and pleasured in, and carelessly to be flung aside. "Therefore, play!" was the cry that rang through her. "Lean toward him, if so you will, and place your two hands upon his neck!"She wanted to cry out at the recklessness of the thought, and in vain she appraised her own cleanness and culture and balanced all that she was against what he was not. She glanced about her and saw the others gazing at him with rapt attention; and she would have despaired had not she seen horror in her mother's eyes—fascinated horror, it was true, but none the less horror. This man from outer darkness was evil. Her mother saw it, and her mother was right. She would trust her mother's judgment in this as she had always trusted it in all things. The fire of him was no longer warm, and the fear of him was no longer poignant.

他说的时候，那女孩一直用惊讶的目光望着他。他的热情温暖了她。她想到自己是否一直以来都很冷。她想靠近这个熊熊燃烧的男人，这个如火山般喷发着力量、刚强和健康的男人。她觉得必须靠近他，但又受到一股力量的阻挠。也有一股反向的冲动使她从他身边退缩开去。她厌恶那双受伤的手，辛苦劳作使其积满了污垢，以致于生活的污秽也随之渗透进了体内；她还厌恶他领口处的红印和鼓起的肌肉。他的粗俗使她害怕；他的每一句粗话都是对她耳朵的侮辱，他生活中每一个粗俗的方面都是对她灵魂的侮辱。但他仍时不时地吸引着她，以致于她认为他对她有这种力量是因为他的邪恶。她心中树立得最牢固的信念开始动摇了。他的传奇和冒险正在捣毁传统。他能轻易摆脱险情，还能随时放声大笑，在他面前生活不再是一种严肃的追求和克制，而是一件可以随意玩耍颠倒的玩具；生活是用来随意度过的，是用来尽情享乐的，是可以被满不在乎地抛到一边的。“所以，玩吧！”她心中响起这样的呼喊。“靠近他，如果你想的话，把双手放在他的脖子上！”这个鲁莽的想法使她想要大叫出来，她估量着自己的纯洁和教养，拿自己拥有的一切与他所没有的一切比较，结果却徒劳无功。她看看四周，发现其他人都全神贯注地注视着他；要不是看到了母亲眼中的恐惧，她该绝望了——是着迷的恐惧不假，但那毕竟是恐惧。这个从外面的黑暗世界来的人是邪恶的。她母亲看出了这一点，她母亲是对的。她在这件事上相信母亲的判断，就像她在所有事情上都相信一样。他的热情不再温暖，对他的害怕也不再刺痛。

Later, at the piano, she played for him, and at him, aggressively, with the vague intent of emphasizing the impassableness of the gulf that separated them. Her music was a club that she swung brutally upon his head; and though it stunned him and crushed him down, it incited him. He gazed upon her in awe. In his mind, as in her own, the gulf widened; but faster than it widened, towered his ambition to win across it. But he was too complicated a plexus of sensibilities to sit staring at a gulf a whole evening, especially when there was music. He was remarkably susceptible to music. It was like strong drink, firing him to audacities of feeling,—a drug that laid hold of his imagination and went cloud-soaring through the sky. It banished sordid fact, flooded his mind with beauty, loosed romance and to its heels added wings. He did not understand the music she played. It was different from the dance-hall piano-banging and blatant brass bands he had heard. But he had caught hints of such music from the books, and he accepted her playing largely on faith, patiently waiting, at first, for the lifting measures of pronounced and simple rhythm, puzzled because those measures were not long continued. Just as he caught the swing of them and started, his imagination attuned in flight, always they vanished away in a chaotic scramble of sounds that was meaningless to him, and that dropped his imagination, an inert weight, back to earth.

之后她坐在钢琴旁为他演奏，显得咄咄逼人，意在向他隐约地强调出分隔两人的那道不可跨越的鸿沟。她的音乐就像条大棒，残忍地挥向他的头顶，将他打晕、打垮，但也激励了他。他充满敬佩地望着她。在他心中，那条鸿沟变宽了，正如她心中的一样；但他跨越这条鸿沟的雄心也在增长，超过鸿沟变宽的速度。但他的敏感神经太过复杂，无法让他一整晚都只是坐在那盯着那条鸿沟看，尤其是在有音乐的情况下。他极易受音乐影响。音乐就像烈酒，使他燃起大胆的激情——音乐就像麻醉剂，抓住他的想象力，带他冲上云霄、穿过蓝天。音乐赶走了肮脏的事实，使他心中充满了美，释放出他的浪漫情怀，并为它的脚跟插上翅膀。他并不明白她弹的是什么。这跟他听到过的砰砰作响的舞厅钢琴曲和喧嚣吵闹的铜管乐曲不一样。不过他倒是从书上读到过对这类音乐的提示，因此主要靠信心来欣赏她的音乐；起初，他耐心地等待着节奏分明而简单的轻快旋律的出现，又因这样的旋律持续时间短而疑惑。正当他抓好节奏，配合好想象，准备展翅飞翔的时候，那些旋律总会消失不见，变成对他来说毫无意义的混乱杂音，使他的想象如一块毫无生气的重物坠回大地。

Once, it entered his mind that there was a deliberate rebuff in all this. He caught her spirit of antagonism and strove to divine the message that her hands pronounced upon the keys. Then he dismissed the thought as unworthy and impossible, and yielded himself more freely to the music. The old delightful condition began to be induced. His feet were no longer clay, and his flesh became spirit; before his eyes and behind his eyes shone a great glory; and then the scene before him vanished and he was away, rocking over the world that was to him a very dear world. The known and the unknown were commingled in the dream-pageant that thronged his vision. He entered strange ports of sun-washed lands, and trod market-places among barbaric peoples that no man had ever seen. The scent of the spice islands was in his nostrils as he had known it on warm, breathless nights at sea, or he beat up against the southeast trades through long tropic days, sinking palm-tufted coral islets in the turquoise sea behind and lifting palm-tufted coral islets in the turquoise sea ahead. Swift as thought the pictures came and went. One instant he was astride a broncho and flying through the fairy-colored Painted Desert country; the next instant he was gazing down through shimmering heat into the whited sepulchre of Death Valley, or pulling an oar on a freezing ocean where great ice islands towered and glistened in the sun. He lay on a coral beach where the cocoanuts grew down to the mellow-sounding surf. The hulk of an ancient wreck burned with blue fires, in the light of which danced the hula dancers to the barbaric love-calls of the singers, who chanted to tinkling ukuleles and rumbling tom-toms. It was a sensuous, tropic night. In the background a volcano crater was silhouetted against the stars. Overhead drifted a pale crescent moon, and the Southern Cross burned low in the sky.

有那么一次，他感到这一切包含着故意拒绝的意思。他捕捉到她的敌对情绪，非常想要猜出她的双手通过键盘发出的讯息。随后他又放弃了这个想法，认为那是不必要的，也是不可能的，于是使自己更加自由地沉浸在了音乐之中。原来的快乐情绪又开始被唤起。他的双腿再也不是血肉之躯，肉体变成了灵魂；眼前和心中都亮起耀眼的光辉；接着他眼前的景象消失了，他自己也离开了，来到了那个对他来说非常宝贵的世界，到处游荡。已知的和未知的混合成一个华丽壮观的梦，挤满了他的幻想。他来到阳光普照的陌生港口，漫步在从来没人见过的野蛮人的市场上。香料之岛的香味进入他的鼻孔，就和他曾在海上温暖却无法呼吸的夜里所闻到的一样；在热带迎着东南信风航行的漫长日子里，他看着棕榈树丛生的珊瑚岛在身后青绿色的海水中落下，又看着棕榈树丛生的珊瑚岛在前面的青绿色海水中上升。一幅幅画面飞快如他的思绪，来了又走。一会儿他骑着野马在五颜六色、宛如仙境的彩绘沙漠上飞奔，一会儿又透过闪光的热气俯瞰死谷中的白色坟墓，或是在冰冷的海上划着浆，海面上耸立着的高大冰山在阳光下闪闪发光。他躺在珊瑚海滩上，上面的椰树低垂着，直触到轻柔的海浪。一艘古老船只的残骸正在燃烧，冒着蓝色的火焰；在它的火光里，草裙舞者们和着歌手们原始的情歌翩翩起舞，伴奏的是叮当作响的尤克里里琴和轰隆作响的手鼓。这是个属于感官的热带夜晚。远处隐隐约约的是星光下火山口的轮廓。头顶漂浮着一轮苍白的新月，南十字星低低地燃烧在天空中。

He was a harp; all life that he had known and that was his consciousness was the strings; and the flood of music was a wind that poured against those strings and set them vibrating with memories and dreams. He did not merely feel. Sensation invested itself in form and color and radiance, and what his imagination dared, it objectified in some sublimated and magic way. Past, present, and future mingled; and he went on oscillating across the broad, warm world, through high adventure and noble deeds to Her—ay, and with her, winning her, his arm about her, and carrying her on in flight through the empery of his mind.

他就像一架竖琴；他一生的经历和他的意识便是那琴弦；风倾泻在这些琴弦上，使它们随着回忆和梦想一起震动，便成了流淌而出的音乐。他不仅仅只是感受。他的知觉化身为形式、色彩和光亮，以某种升华了的、魔术般的方式实现了他敢于想象的事情。过去、现在和未来交织在一起；他继续在这个广阔而温暖的世界里游荡，通过崇高的冒险和高尚的事迹靠近她——是的，和她一起，得到她，抱着她，带她一起飞翔在他的心灵王国。

And she, glancing at him across her shoulder, saw something of all this in his face. It was a transfigured face, with great shining eyes that gazed beyond the veil of sound and saw behind it the leap and pulse of life and the gigantic phantoms of the spirit. She was startled. The raw, stumbling lout was gone. The ill-fitting clothes, battered hands, and sunburned face remained; but these seemed the prison-bars through which she saw a great soul looking forth, inarticulate and dumb because of those feeble lips that would not give it speech. Only for a flashing moment did she see this, then she saw the lout returned, and she laughed at the whim of her fancy. But the impression of that fleeting glimpse lingered, and when the time came for him to beat a stumbling retreat and go, she lent him the volume of Swinburne, and another of Browning—she was studying Browning in one of her English courses. He seemed such a boy, as he stood blushing and stammering his thanks, that a wave of pity, maternal in its prompting, welled up in her. She did not remember the lout, nor the imprisoned soul, nor the man who had stared at her in all masculineness and delighted and frightened her. She saw before her only a boy, who was shaking her hand with a hand so calloused that it felt like a nutmeg-grater and rasped her skin, and who was saying jerkily:—

而她，在转过头扫视他时，或多或少在他脸上看到了这一切。这是张美化了的脸，他那闪光的大眼睛穿透声音的遮蔽，看到了掩藏其后的生命的跳动和活力，以及巨大的精神幻影。她震惊了。那个粗俗、结巴的乡下佬不见了。那不合身的衣服、受伤的双手和晒黑的脸孔还在；但这些看来就像是牢房的栅栏，透过它们她看到一个乐观而伟大的灵魂，只因那无力的双唇不善言辞才令他词不达意或哑口无言。但她看到这些的时间仅有那么一瞬，随即她看到那个乡下佬又回来了，于是嘲笑自己离奇的念头。但那飞快的一瞥留下的印象却萦绕在她心头，当他结结巴巴地告别完准备离开时，她将斯温伯恩的那本书和一本布朗宁的诗集借给了他——她正在其中一节英文课上学布朗宁。他站在那儿红着脸结结巴巴地道谢的时候看起来真像个孩子，一阵母性的怜爱之情在她心中被唤醒，流淌了出来。她忘了那个乡下佬，忘了那个被禁锢的灵魂，也忘了那个带着阳刚之气盯着她看、使她又高兴又害怕的男人。她只看到眼前的男孩，正用起茧的手和自己握手，那摸起来就像碎肉豆蔻机的手锉得她的皮肤生疼，那男孩笨拙地说：

"The greatest time of my life. You see, I ain't used to things…”He looked about him helplessly. "To people and houses like this. It's all new to me, and I like it."“这是我一生中最棒的时光。你瞧，我对这些事情不习惯……”他无助地看看四周。“对这样的人和这样的房子。这些对我来说都是新鲜的，不过我喜欢。”

"I hope you'll call again," she said, as he was saying good night to her brothers.“我希望你会再来看我们。”她趁他和她的哥哥道别的时候说。

He pulled on his cap, lurched desperately through the doorway, and was gone.

他戴上帽子，歪着身子拼命冲出门口，消失了。

"Well, what do you think of him?" Arthur demanded.“那么，你觉得他怎么样？”阿瑟问道。

"He is most interesting, a whiff of ozone," she answered. "How old is he?"“他太有趣了，就像一股清新的臭氧，”她回答道，“他多大了？”

"Twenty—almost twenty-one. I asked him this afternoon. I didn't think he was that young."“二十——快二十一了。我今天下午问过他。我以为他没有这么年轻。”

And I am three years older, was the thought in her mind as she kissed her brothers goodnight.

她和哥哥们亲吻道晚安时心里想，自己比他还大三岁。

CHAPTER III

第三章

As Martin Eden went down the steps, his hand dropped into his coat pocket. It came out with a brown rice paper and a pinch of Mexican tobacco, which were deftly rolled together into a cigarette. He drew the first whiff of smoke deep into his lungs and expelled it in a long and lingering exhalation. "By God!" he said aloud, in a voice of awe and wonder. "By God!" he repeated. And yet again he murmured, "By God!"Then his hand went to his collar, which he ripped out of the shirt and stuffed into his pocket. A cold drizzle was falling, but he bared his head to it and unbuttoned his vest, swinging along in splendid unconcern. He was only dimly aware that it was raining. He was in an ecstasy, dreaming dreams and reconstructing the scenes just past.

马丁·伊登走下台阶时，把一只手伸进了外套口袋里。他从口袋里取出一张褐色卷烟纸和一撮墨西哥烟叶，将它们灵巧地卷成一根烟。他把第一口烟深深地吸进肺中，然后吐出了一条长长的、萦绕不散的烟雾。“上帝啊！”他大声说，声音中带着敬畏和惊奇。“上帝啊！”他重复了一遍。然后他又喃喃地说了一遍：“上帝啊！”随后他的手伸向领子，一把将它从衬衫上扯下来，塞进口袋中。天空中下着冰冷的细雨，但他却将头暴露在雨中，还解开了背心的扣子，摇摇晃晃地走着，一副满不在乎的痛快样子。他只是模糊地意识到在下雨。他处于狂喜的状态，做着梦，回味着刚刚过去的那些场景。

He had met the woman at last—the woman that he had thought little about, not being given to thinking about women, but whom he had expected, in a remote way, he would sometime meet. He had sat next to her at table. He had felt her hand in his, he had looked into her eyes and caught a vision of a beautiful spirit;—but no more beautiful than the eyes through which it shone, nor than the flesh that gave it expression and form. He did not think of her flesh as flesh,—which was new to him; for of the women he had known that was the only way he thought. Her flesh was somehow different. He did not conceive of her body as a body, subject to the ills and frailties of bodies. Her body was more than the garb of her spirit. It was an emanation of her spirit, a pure and gracious crystallization of her divine essence. This feeling of the divine startled him. It shocked him from his dreams to sober thought. No word, no clew, no hint, of the divine had ever reached him before. He had never believed in the divine. He had always been irreligious, scoffing good-naturedly at the sky-pilots and their immortality of the soul. There was no life beyond, he had contended; it was here and now, then darkness everlasting. But what he had seen in her eyes was soul—immortal soul that could never die. No man he had known, nor any woman, had given him the message of immortality. But she had. She had whispered it to him the first moment she looked at him. Her face shimmered before his eyes as he walked along,—pale and serious, sweet and sensitive, smiling with pity and tenderness as only a spirit could smile, and pure as he had never dreamed purity could be. Her purity smote him like a blow. It startled him. He had known good and bad; but purity, as an attribute of existence, had never entered his mind. And now, in her, he conceived purity to be the superlative of goodness and of cleanness, the sum of which constituted eternal life.

他终于遇见那个女人了——他很少想到她，他不热衷于想女人，但仍隐隐期待着有一天会遇见她。他刚坐在她身旁一起吃饭。他刚抚摸了她的手，凝视了她的双眼，捕捉到了一个美丽的仙女幻影——但并不比闪现出这般幻影的眼睛本身美丽，也不比给予它表情和形态的肉体美丽。他并没有把她的肉体视为肉体——这对他可是新鲜事；因为对于那些他认识的女人，那是他看待她们唯一的方式。不知怎么的，她的肉体有些不同。他不认为她的身体是身体，是会生病和有弱点的身体。她的身体不只是她精神的外衣。它是她精神的流露，是她神圣精华纯净而优雅的结晶。这种神圣的感觉令他震惊。这令他从梦中一下子回到了清醒的思考中。从没有神圣的话语、线索和暗示影响过他。他从未相信过神圣的事情。他一向不相信宗教，总是心平气和地嘲笑那些引领人们进入天堂的人和他们不朽的灵魂。他曾坚信死后没有来生；生命只存在于此地，只存在于此刻，之后便是无尽的黑暗。但他从她眼中看到了灵魂——不死的、永恒的灵魂。他认识的人中，无论男女，没有一个曾给过他关于永恒的信息。但她给了他。她第一次看他的时候便将这个信息悄悄告诉了他。他往前走着，她的面容一直在他眼前闪耀——苍白而严肃，甜美而敏感；微笑时带着怜爱和温柔，只有仙女才会这样微笑；如此纯洁，他从未梦想过纯洁原来可以达到这种程度。她的纯洁犹如一击击倒了他。他为之震惊。他见过善与恶；可作为生命特性的纯洁却从未进入他的心中。现在在她身上，他认为纯洁是善良与洁净的最高形式，它们的总体便成了永恒的生命。

And promptly urged his ambition to grasp at eternal life. He was not fit to carry water for her—he knew that; it was a miracle of luck and a fantastic stroke that had enabled him to see her and be with her and talk with her that night. It was accidental. There was no merit in it. He did not deserve such fortune. His mood was essentially religious. He was humble and meek, filled with self-disparagement and abasement. In such frame of mind sinners come to the penitent form. He was convicted of sin. But as the meek and lowly at the penitent form catch splendid glimpses of their future lordly existence, so did he catch similar glimpses of the state he would gain to by possessing her. But this possession of her was dim and nebulous and totally different from possession as he had known it. Ambition soared on mad wings, and he saw himself climbing the heights with her, sharing thoughts with her, pleasuring in beautiful and noble things with her. It was a soul-possession he dreamed, refined beyond any grossness, a free comradeship of spirit that he could not put into definite thought. He did not think it. For that matter, he did not think at all. Sensation usurped reason, and he was quivering and palpitant with emotions he had never known, drifting deliciously on a sea of sensibility where feeling itself was exalted and spiritualized and carried beyond the summits of life.

于是他的雄心立刻敦促他抓住这永恒的生命。他连给她端水都不配——他明白这一点；是奇迹般的好运和不可思议的福分才使他能在那晚见到她，与她相处，同她说话。这一切都是偶然。没什么值得高兴的。他不配有这样的幸运。他的情绪在本质上是宗教性的。他谦卑、温顺，充满了对自己的轻视和贬低。罪人们正是在这样的思想状态下来到忏悔的长凳上的。他被判有罪。但正如温顺、谦卑的罪人们坐在忏悔的长凳上瞥见了他们辉煌而高贵的未来生活，他也瞥见了通过占有她所能获得的生活。但占有她的前途模糊而渺茫，与他所知的占有完全不同。雄心展开疯狂的翅膀升向高空，他看到自己正和她一起攀登高山，分享彼此的想法，彼此都沉浸在美好高贵的事物中。他梦想的是一种灵魂上的占有，脱俗的高雅，一种难以确切表达出来的、自由的精神友谊。他没有想过。关于这方面，他完全没有想过。感官取代了理智，他怀着从未体验过的激情颤抖着、悸动着，在感官的海洋上怡然自得地漂浮着，感觉本身得到了升华并化为精神，超越了生命的最高峰。

He staggered along like a drunken man, murmuring fervently aloud, "By God! By God!"

他像个醉汉般一路跌跌撞撞地走着，狂热地大声嘀咕着：“上帝啊！上帝啊！”

A policeman on a street corner eyed him suspiciously, then noted his sailor roll.

街角的一个警察怀疑地打量着他，然后注意到了他的水手卷边。

"Where did you get it?" the policeman demanded.“你从哪儿弄来的这个？”那个警察问道。

Martin Eden came back to earth. His was a fluid organism, swiftly adjustable, capable of flowing into and filling all sorts of nooks and crannies. With the policeman's hail he was immediately his ordinary self, grasping the situation clearly.

马丁·伊登回到了现实。他的机体就像是液体做成的，能迅速调整，能流入并填满各种角落和缝隙。那个警察一招呼，他就立刻变回了正常的自己，清楚地把握住了局势。

"It's a beaut, ain't it?" he laughed back. "I didn't know I was talkin' out loud."“它很漂亮，不是吗？”他笑着回答道，“我不知道原来我都把话大声说出来了。”

"You'll be singing next," was the policeman's diagnosis.“接下里你就得唱歌了吧。”警察这样判断道。

"No, I won't. Gimme a match an' I'll catch the next car home."“不，不会的。给我根火柴，我会搭下班车回家的。”

He lighted his cigarette, said good night, and went on. "Now wouldn't that rattle you?" he ejaculated under his breath. "That copper thought I was drunk."He smiled to himself and meditated. "I guess I was," he added; "but I didn't think a woman's face'd do it."

他点燃烟，道了晚安，继续向前走去。“那不会让你心烦的吧？”他突然小声地喊道。“那警察以为我醉了。”他对自己笑笑，然后陷入了沉思。“我猜我的确醉了，”他补充道， “只是没想到一个女人的脸会让我醉倒。”

He caught a Telegraph Avenue car that was going to Berkeley. It was crowded with youths and young men who were singing songs and ever and again barking out college yells. He studied them curiously. They were university boys. They went to the same university that she did, were in her class socially, could know her, could see her every day if they wanted to. He wondered that they did not want to, that they had been out having a good time instead of being with her that evening, talking with her, sitting around her in a worshipful and adoring circle. His thoughts wandered on. He noticed one with narrow-slitted eyes and a loose-lipped mouth. That fellow was vicious, he decided. On shipboard he would be a sneak, a whiner, a tattler. He, Martin Eden, was a better man than that fellow. The thought cheered him. It seemed to draw him nearer to Her. He began comparing himself with the students. He grew conscious of the muscled mechanism of his body and felt confident that he was physically their master. But their heads were filled with knowledge that enabled them to talk her talk,—the thought depressed him. But what was a brain for? he demanded passionately. What they had done, he could do. They had been studying about life from the books while he had been busy living life. His brain was just as full of knowledge as theirs, though it was a different kind of knowledge. How many of them could tie a lanyard knot, or take a wheel or a lookout? His life spread out before him in a series of pictures of danger and daring, hardship and toil. He remembered his failures and scrapes in the process of learning. He was that much to the good, anyway. Later on they would have to begin living life and going through the mill as he had gone. Very well. While they were busy with that, he could be learning the other side of life from the books.

他坐上电报街一辆开往伯克利的电车。车上挤满了少年和年轻人，他们唱着歌，时不时地喊几句大学拉拉队的口号。他好奇地打量着他们。他们是大学生。他们和她去的是同一所学校，在社会地位上和她相等，可能认识她，如果想的话可以每天都见到她。他不明白为什么那晚他们宁愿在外玩乐而不是呆在她身边，崇拜且爱慕地围着她坐成一圈和她聊天。他继续漫无目的地想了下去。他注意到有个小伙子眼睛眯成两条细缝，嘴唇松垮垮地张着。他断定这小子很恶毒。到了船上，他准会是一个鬼鬼祟祟、牢骚满腹、搬弄是非的人。他，马丁·伊登先生，比那家伙强多了。这个想法使他高兴。似乎这让他离她又近了一步。他开始拿自己和那些学生作比较。他逐渐意识到自己体格强健有力，自信自己在体力上是他们的师父。但他们的脑袋里装满了知识，使他们能够谈论她的话题——这想法使他压抑。但脑子是用来干吗的？他激动地问道。他们做到的，他一样能做到。他们从书中学习生活，而他则一直在忙碌地生活着。他的脑子和他们的一样装满了知识，只不过是不同种类的知识罢了。他们中有多少人会给绳子打结，会掌舵，会瞭望？他的生活如图画般一幅幅在他眼前展开，有危难和冒险，有磨难和劳累。他想起学习过程中的失败和挫折。但不管怎样他都非常优秀。今后他们也要开始生活，像他一样经历磨难。很好。当他们忙于生活时，他就可以从书中学习生活的另一面了。

As the car crossed the zone of scattered dwellings that separated Oakland from Berkeley, he kept a lookout for a familiar, two-story building along the front of which ran the proud sign, HIGGINBOTHAM'S CASH STORE. Martin Eden got off at this corner. He stared up for a moment at the sign. It carried a message to him beyond its mere wording. A personality of smallness and egotism and petty underhandedness seemed to emanate from the letters themselves. Bernard Higginbotham had married his sister, and he knew him well. He let himself in with a latch-key and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Here lived his brother-in-law. The grocery was below. There was a smell of stale vegetables in the air. As he groped his way across the hall he stumbled over a toy-cart, left there by one of his numerous nephews and nieces, and brought up against a door with a resounding bang. "The pincher," was his thought; "too miserly to burn two cents' worth of gas and save his boarders' necks."

电车经过一片住宅稀疏的地区，这个地区把奥克兰和伯克利分隔开来，这时他一直在留意一幢熟悉的两层楼建筑，楼前树着一块神气的招牌：希金博特姆现金商店。马丁·伊登在这个街角下了车。他抬头看了一会儿招牌。这块招牌除了字面意思外，还向他传达其他的信息。一个小气、自负、卑鄙小人的形象似乎从那些字母本身就能散发出来。伯纳德·希金博特姆娶了他的姐姐，他很了解这个人。他用一把弹簧钥匙自己开了门，爬楼梯上了二楼。这里住着他的姐夫。杂货店在楼下。空气中有股蔬菜发霉的臭味。他摸索着穿过门厅时被一辆玩具汽车给绊了一下，那是他无数侄子侄女中的一个落在那里的，玩具车被他碰得撞在门上，发出砰的一声巨响。“守财奴，”他心想，“舍不得花两分钱煤气把灯点上，好让房客留着脖子。”

He fumbled for the knob and entered a lighted room, where sat his sister and Bernard Higginbotham. She was patching a pair of his trousers, while his lean body was distributed over two chairs, his feet dangling in dilapidated carpet-slippers over the edge of the second chair. He glanced across the top of the paper he was reading, showing a pair of dark, insincere, sharp-staring eyes. Martin Eden never looked at him without experiencing a sense of repulsion. What his sister had seen in the man was beyond him. The other affected him as so much vermin, and always aroused in him an impulse to crush him under his foot. "Some day I'll beat the face off of him," was the way he often consoled himself for enduring the man's existence. The eyes, weasel-like and cruel, were looking at him complainingly.

他摸索着找到了门把手，进了一间亮着灯的房间，里面坐着他的姐姐和伯纳德·希金博特姆。姐姐正在修补姐夫的一条裤子，姐夫那瘦瘦的身体躺在两把椅子上，穿着破烂的绒拖鞋的脚在另一把椅子边上晃荡。他从正在读的那张报纸顶上瞥了他一眼，露出一对漆黑虚伪而警惕的眼睛。马丁·伊登每次看到他都觉得一阵恶心。他真不理解姐姐看上他哪点了。在他看来那个人就像条寄生虫，总使他产生一种将他踩死在脚下的冲动。“总有一天我会把他的脸打烂。”他时常这样安慰自己以忍受这个家伙的存在。那双恶毒的、鼬鼠般的眼睛正不满地盯着他。

"Well," Martin demanded. "Out with it."“得了，”马丁说，“有什么话就快说。”

"I had that door painted only last week," Mr. Higginbotham half whined, half bullied; "and you know what union wages are. You should be more careful."“我上礼拜刚叫人给那道门上了漆，”希金博特姆先生半发牢骚、半威胁地说，“工会定的工钱有多高你是知道的。你应该更小心点。”

Martin had intended to reply, but he was struck by the hopelessness of it. He gazed across the monstrous sordidness of soul to a chromo on the wall. It surprised him. He had always liked it, but it seemed that now he was seeing it for the first time. It was cheap, that was what it was, like everything else in this house. His mind went back to the house he had just left, and he saw, first, the paintings, and next, Her, looking at him with melting sweetness as she shook his hand at leaving. He forgot where he was and Bernard Higginbotham's existence, till that gentleman demanded:—

马丁想回击他，但想到这没什么用便放弃了。他越过那丑陋肮脏的灵魂，去看墙上的那幅彩色石印画。他大吃一惊。他以前一直很喜欢这幅画，可现在好像是他第一次见到它。它太廉价，就是这样，跟房子里其他所有东西一样。他的心又回到了刚离开的那幢房子，首先看到了那里的画，接着是她，她正跟他握手告别，正用让人融化的甜美注视着自己。他忘了自己身在何方，忘了伯纳德·希金博特姆的存在，直到那位绅士问道：

"Seen a ghost?"“见鬼了？”

Martin came back and looked at the beady eyes, sneering, truculent, cowardly, and there leaped into his vision, as on a screen, the same eyes when their owner was making a sale in the store below—subservient eyes, smug, and oily, and flattering.

马丁回过神来，看着那对讥讽、刻薄却又懦弱的小眼睛，同时一对同样的眼睛跃入他的想象，像在银幕上一样展开在他眼前：这对眼睛的主人在楼下的杂货店里做生意——奉承、自得、油滑、谄媚。

"Yes," Martin answered. "I seen a ghost. Good night. Good night, Gertrude."“是的，”马丁回答道，“我是见鬼了。晚安。晚安，格特鲁德。”

He started to leave the room, tripping over a loose seam in the slatternly carpet.

他正打算离开房间，却被松垮垮的地毯上裂开的一条缝给绊了一下。

"Don't bang the door," Mr. Higginbotham cautioned him.“别把门甩得砰砰响。”希金博特姆警告他。

He felt the blood crawl in his veins, but controlled himself and closed the door softly behind him.

他感到血液在血管中沸腾，但他控制住了自己，在身后轻轻地关上了门。

Mr. Higginbotham looked at his wife exultantly.

希金博特姆先生得意洋洋地看着妻子。

"He's ben drinkin'," he proclaimed in a hoarse whisper. "I told you he would."“他喝酒了，”他沙哑着嗓子低声宣布道，“我告诉过你他会喝的。”

She nodded her head resignedly.

她顺从地点了点头。

"His eyes was pretty shiny," she confessed; "and he didn't have no collar, though he went away with one. But mebbe he didn't have more'n a couple of glasses."“他的眼睛的确很亮，”她承认道，“领子也拿掉了，走的时候还在的。不过也许他只喝了两杯。”

"He couldn't stand up straight," asserted her husband. "I watched him. He couldn't walk across the floor without stumblin'. You heard 'm yourself almost fall down in the hall."“他站都站不直了，”她丈夫断言，“我观察过他。他穿过房间的时候都是跌跌撞撞的。你也听到了，他几乎在门厅那摔倒。”

"I think it was over Alice's cart," she said. "He couldn't see it in the dark."“我猜是撞上艾丽斯的车了，”她说，“黑黑的，他怎么可能看得见。”

Mr. Higginbotham's voice and wrath began to rise. All day he effaced himself in the store, reserving for the evening, with his family, the privilege of being himself.

希金博特姆先生的嗓门提高了，脾气也变大了。白天一整天他都在店里低声下气，等到晚上就有特权对着家人原形毕露了。

"I tell you that precious brother of yours was drunk."“我告诉你，你那个宝贝弟弟喝醉了。”

His voice was cold, sharp, and final, his lips stamping the enunciation of each word like the die of a machine. His wife sighed and remained silent. She was a large, stout woman, always dressed slatternly and always tired from the burdens of her flesh, her work, and her husband.

他的口气冷酷、尖锐而决绝，嘴唇像机器上的模子一样把字一个一个地讲了出来。他妻子叹了口气，沉默了。她是个高大结实的女人，总是穿得很邋遢，总是被自己庞大的身材、被家务、被丈夫弄得精疲力竭。

"He's got it in him, I tell you, from his father," Mr. Higginbotham went on accusingly. "An' he'll croak in the gutter the same way. You know that."“我告诉你，这是从他老子那儿遗传来的，”希金博特姆先生继续指责着，“他也会一样死在臭水沟里的。你知道的。”

She nodded, sighed, and went on stitching. They were agreed that Martin had come home drunk. They did not have it in their souls to know beauty, or they would have known that those shining eyes and that glowing face betokened youth's first vision of love.

她点点头，叹了口气，继续补起了裤子。他们一致认定马丁回家时喝醉了。他们的灵魂欣赏不了美，不然他们就会知道那闪着光芒的双眼和泛着红光的脸颊标志着青年人的第一次爱情体验。

"Settin' a fine example to the children," Mr. Higginbotham snorted, suddenly, in the silence for which his wife was responsible and which he resented. Sometimes he almost wished she would oppose him more. "If he does it again, he's got to get out. Understand! I won't put up with his shinanigan—debotchin' innocent children with his boozing."Mr. Higginbotham liked the word, which was a new one in his vocabulary, recently gleaned from a newspaper column. "That's what it is, debotchin'—there ain't no other name for it."“给孩子们树立了个好榜样。”希金博特姆先生突然在沉默中哼着说，他妻子为这沉默负有责任，而沉默又是他所讨厌的。有时候他几乎希望妻子能顶几句嘴。“他要再敢喝酒，就得给我滚蛋。听见没有？我不会任由他胡来的——喝得烂醉会把天真的孩子们给带邪的。”希金博特姆先生喜欢这个词，这是他新加进词汇表的词，不久前刚从一份报纸的专栏上搜刮来的。“就是这个词，带邪——没有其他说法。”

Still his wife sighed, shook her head sorrowfully, and stitched on. Mr. Higginbotham resumed the newspaper.

他妻子仍旧叹了口气，伤心地摇了摇头，继续补裤子。希金博特姆先生又读起了报纸。

"Has he paid last week's board?" he shot across the top of the newspaper.“上礼拜的伙食费他交了没？”他越过报纸顶喊道。

She nodded, then added, "He still has some money."

她点点头，并补充道：“他还有点钱。”

"When is he goin' to sea again?"“那他什么时候再出海啊？”

"When his pay-day's spent, I guess," she answered. "He was over to San Francisco yesterday looking for a ship. But he's got money, yet, an' he's particular about the kind of ship he signs for."“我猜工资花完了就走吧，”她回答说，“他昨天去旧金山找船了。不过他钱还没花完，对要上的船又很挑剔。”

"It's not for a deck-swab like him to put on airs," Mr. Higginbotham snorted. "Particular! Him!"“像他这种擦甲板的货色，哪轮得到他摆架子，”希金博特姆先生哼哼道，“还挑剔！就他！”

"He said something about a schooner that's gettin' ready to go off to some outlandish place to look for buried treasure, that he'd sail on her if his money held out."“他说过有一条帆船正准备去外国什么地方找埋藏的宝藏，要是他的钱能撑到那时候就上那条船。”

"If he only wanted to steady down, I'd give him a job drivin' the wagon," her husband said, but with no trace of benevolence in his voice. "Tom's quit."“他要是想稳定下来，我倒可以让他来开货车，”她丈夫说，声音中听不出一点照顾的意思，“汤姆不干了，”

His wife looked alarm and interrogation.

他妻子一脸惊讶和疑问。

"Quit to-night. Is goin' to work for Carruthers. They paid 'm more'n I could afford."“今天晚上就不干了。他要给卡拉瑟斯干活去。他们给的钱我给不起。”

"I told you you'd lose 'm," she cried out. "He was worth more'n you was giving him."“我跟你说过他会走的，”她喊道，“他应该得到更多工钱，他值那么多。”

"Now look here, old woman," Higginbotham bullied, "for the thousandth time I've told you to keep your nose out of the business. I won't tell you again."“听着，老太婆，”希金博特姆威胁道，“这是我第一千次告诉你，生意上的事你别管。再有下次这话我就不说了。”

"I don't care," she sniffled. "Tom was a good boy."Her husband glared at her. This was unqualified defiance.“我不在乎，”她不屑地说，“汤姆是个好孩子。”她丈夫生气地瞪着她。这可是赤裸裸的挑衅。

"If that brother of yours was worth his salt, he could take the wagon," he snorted.“如果你那个弟弟不是白吃饭的，就叫他来开货车。”他哼哼道。

"He pays his board, just the same," was the retort. "An' he's my brother, an' so long as he don't owe you money you've got no right to be jumping on him all the time. I've got some feelings, if I have been married to you for seven years."“他可是一样付了伙食费的，”她反驳道，“他还是我弟弟，只要他不欠你钱，你就没权利老是对他大呼小叫的。虽然跟你结婚七年了，但我还是有感情的。”

"Did you tell 'm you'd charge him for gas if he goes on readin' in bed?" he demanded.“那你有没有告诉他，如果他继续在床上看书你就要多收他煤气费啊？”他问道。

Mrs. Higginbotham made no reply. Her revolt faded away, her spirit wilting down into her tired flesh. Her husband was triumphant. He had her. His eyes snapped vindictively, while his ears joyed in the sniffles she emitted. He extracted great happiness from squelching her, and she squelched easily these days, though it had been different in the first years of their married life, before the brood of children and his incessant nagging had sapped her energy.

希金博特姆太太没有回答。她的反抗意志散去了，精神枯萎下来，缩回了她疲倦的肉体。她丈夫因胜利而得意洋洋。他打败了她。他的双眼报复性地闪闪放光，耳朵因听到她的啜泣声高兴不已。他从对她的压制中获得了极大的乐趣，而这些日子里她很容易就被压制，尽管他们结婚的头几年里，在一大群孩子和他丈夫无休止的唠叨榨干她的能量以前，情况并非如此。

"Well, you tell 'm to-morrow, that's all," he said. "An' I just want to tell you, before I forget it, that you'd better send for Marian to-morrow to take care of the children. With Tom quit, I'll have to be out on the wagon, an' you can make up your mind to it to be down below waitin' on the counter."“那么，明天你就告诉他，就这样，”他说，“还有，趁我还没忘记，告诉你一声，你最好明天把玛丽安叫来照看孩子。汤姆不干了，我就得开货车了，你可得打定主意下去照看柜台了。”

"But to-morrow's wash day," she objected weakly.“但明天我得洗衣服。”她无力地反对道。

"Get up early, then, an' do it first. I won't start out till ten o'clock."“那就早点起来，先把衣服洗了。我十点才走。”

He crinkled the paper viciously and resumed his reading.

他用力地翻着报纸，弄出沙沙的响声，又继续读了起来。

CHAPTER IV

第四章

Martin Eden, with blood still crawling from contact with his brother-in-law, felt his way along the unlighted back hall and entered his room, a tiny cubbyhole with space for a bed, a wash-stand, and one chair. Mr. Higginbotham was too thrifty to keep a servant when his wife could do the work. Besides, the servant's room enabled them to take in two boarders instead of one. Martin placed the Swinburne and Browning on the chair, took off his coat, and sat down on the bed. A screeching of asthmatic springs greeted the weight of his body, but he did not notice them. He started to take off his shoes, but fell to staring at the white plaster wall opposite him, broken by long streaks of dirty brown where rain had leaked through the roof. On this befouled background visions began to flow and burn. He forgot his shoes and stared long, till his lips began to move and he murmured, "Ruth."

马丁·伊登在和姐夫接触后，血液仍在体内沸腾，他摸索着沿着没有灯光的后厅进了自己的房间。这是一间极小的房间，只容得下一张床、一个脸盆架和一把椅子。希金博特姆先生太节约了，他是不会请仆人的，因为那些活他老婆会来干。况且省下来的仆人房间能使他们多两个房客而不是一个。马丁把斯温伯恩和布朗宁的书放在椅子上，脱掉外套，然后坐在床上。患有哮喘病的弹簧在他身体的重压下尖叫起来，不过他并没有注意到。他开始脱鞋子，却突然停下来盯着对面的白色灰泥墙，从屋顶漏下来的雨水在墙上留下长长的、肮脏的褐色条纹，使墙显得支离破碎。在这肮脏的背景上，幻影开始流淌、燃烧。他忘记了自己的鞋子，久久地望着，直到嘴唇动起来，喃喃地说出“鲁思”。

"Ruth."He had not thought a simple sound could be so beautiful. It delighted his ear, and he grew intoxicated with the repetition of it. "Ruth."It was a talisman, a magic word to conjure with. Each time he murmured it, her face shimmered before him, suffusing the foul wall with a golden radiance. This radiance did not stop at the wall. It extended on into infinity, and through its golden depths his soul went questing after hers. The best that was in him was out in splendid flood. The very thought of her ennobled and purified him, made him better, and made him want to be better. This was new to him. He had never known women who had made him better. They had always had the counter effect of making him beastly. He did not know that many of them had done their best, bad as it was. Never having been conscious of himself, he did not know that he had that in his being that drew love from women and which had been the cause of their reaching out for his youth. Though they had often bothered him, he had never bothered about them; and he would never have dreamed that there were women who had been better because of him. Always in sublime carelessness had he lived, till now, and now it seemed to him that they had always reached out and dragged at him with vile hands. This was not just to them, nor to himself. But he, who for the first time was becoming conscious of himself, was in no condition to judge, and he burned with shame as he stared at the vision of his infamy.“鲁思。”他从没想到这么简单的声音竟然如此美妙。这使他的耳朵感到快乐，他重复着，陶醉其中。“鲁思。”这是一件能将画面呈现于人眼前的法宝，一道咒语。每次低声说出她的名字，她的脸庞就会在他眼前闪耀，将金色的光芒撒满那肮脏的墙壁。那道光芒不只停留在墙上。它向无限远处延伸，他的灵魂在那金色光芒的深处探寻着她的灵魂。他心中最美好的部分如壮丽的洪水奔涌而出。正是他对她的想念使他高贵、使他纯洁、使他变得更有教养，也使他想要变得更有教养。这对他来说是全新的。他还从没遇见过能使他变得更有教养的女人。那些女人总会带来相反的效果，会使他变得野蛮。他不知道她们中的很多人也曾尽力想变得有教养，只是结果不理想。他从没有过自我意识，他不知道自己身上有种招惹女人喜爱的魔力，正是它使得她们向他的青春活力伸出手来。尽管她们常常烦扰他，他却不曾为她们所困扰；他也不会想到会有女人因他而变得更有教养。在此之前的生活里，他对她们一直毫不在意，而现在，现在他似乎觉得她们总在伸出邪恶的手拖住自己。这对她们来说不公平，对他也是不公平的。但是第一次拥有自我意识的他，还不具备判断的条件，看着自己不光彩行为的幻象，他羞愧得面红耳赤。

He got up abruptly and tried to see himself in the dirty looking-glass over the wash-stand. He passed a towel over it and looked again, long and carefully. It was the first time he had ever really seen himself. His eyes were made for seeing, but up to that moment they had been filled with the ever changing panorama of the world, at which he had been too busy gazing, ever to gaze at himself. He saw the head and face of a young fellow of twenty, but, being unused to such appraisement, he did not know how to value it. Above a square-domed forehead he saw a mop of brown hair, nut-brown, with a wave to it and hints of curls that were a delight to any woman, making hands tingle to stroke it and fingers tingle to pass caresses through it. But he passed it by as without merit, in Her eyes, and dwelt long and thoughtfully on the high, square forehead,—striving to penetrate it and learn the quality of its content. What kind of a brain lay behind there? was his insistent interrogation. What was it capable of? How far would it take him? Would it take him to her?

他突然起身，想在脸盆架上那肮脏的镜子中看看自己。他拿一条毛巾擦了擦镜子，然后再次长时间仔细地看着自己。这是他有生以来第一次真正看见自己。他的眼睛天生就是用来观察的，但直到刚才那一刻之前，它们都被世间不断变化的各种景象所填满，他一直忙于观察这些景象，而没时间看看自己。他看到一个二十岁小伙子的头和脸，但由于不习惯这种品头论足，他不知道该如何评价自己。方方的凸起的前额上是一堆乱蓬蓬的棕色头发，栗子一样的棕色，卷成一个大波浪，还夹杂着一些讨女人喜欢的小卷；这头发会使女人的手激动得想要抚摸，会使女人的手指激动得想要爱抚。但他却不在意这头发，觉得在她眼里算不了什么，他长久地凝视着那高高的方正前额，沉思着——想要看透它，想要知道里面装的东西质量如何。后面的脑子是怎样的？他不断地问。它有什么能耐？能带他到多远？能把他带到她身边吗？

He wondered if there was soul in those steel-gray eyes that were often quite blue of color and that were strong with the briny airs of the sun-washed deep. He wondered, also, how his eyes looked to her. He tried to imagine himself she, gazing into those eyes of his, but failed in the jugglery. He could successfully put himself inside other men's minds, but they had to be men whose ways of life he knew. He did not know her way of life. She was wonder and mystery, and how could he guess one thought of hers? Well, they were honest eyes, he concluded, and in them was neither smallness nor meanness. The brown sunburn of his face surprised him. He had not dreamed he was so black. He rolled up his shirt-sleeve and compared the white underside of the arm with his face. Yes, he was a white man, after all. But the arms were sunburned, too. He twisted his arm, rolled the biceps over with his other hand, and gazed underneath where he was least touched by the sun. It was very white. He laughed at his bronzed face in the glass at the thought that it was once as white as the underside of his arm; nor did he dream that in the world there were few pale spirits of women who could boast fairer or smoother skins than he—fairer than where he had escaped the ravages of the sun.

他想知道这对时常会变成蓝色的钢灰色眼睛，这对能忍受太阳暴晒下的大海上吹起的咸咸海风的眼睛，是否有灵魂在里面。他还想知道她怎样看这对眼睛。他试图把自己想象成她，然后注视自己的那双眼睛，但这个戏法失败了。他可以成功地使自己置于其他男人的头脑中，但他们的生活方式得是他所熟悉的。他不熟悉她的生活方式。她是奇迹，是谜，他又如何能猜出哪怕是她的一个想法呢？好吧，它们是诚实的眼睛，里面没有小气和吝啬，他得出这样的结论。那张被太阳晒黑的脸令他吃惊。他没想到自己竟这么黑。他把衬衫袖子卷起来，拿手臂内侧的白色部分和脸相比较。是的，他毕竟还是个白人。但手臂也是晒黑的。他转动手臂，用另一只手翻转二头肌，然后看着下面太阳最少照到的地方。那里非常白。他看着镜子里古铜色的脸，想到它曾像手臂内侧一样白便笑了起来；他也不认为世上有苍白的、仙女般的女人敢夸耀自己的皮肤比他的更白更光滑——至少不会比他逃脱了阳光蹂躏的那部分皮肤更白皙。

His might have been a cherub's mouth, had not the full, sensuous lips a trick, under stress, of drawing firmly across the teeth. At times, so tightly did they draw, the mouth became stern and harsh, even ascetic. They were the lips of a fighter and of a lover. They could taste the sweetness of life with relish, and they could put the sweetness aside and command life. The chin and jaw, strong and just hinting of square aggressiveness, helped the lips to command life. Strength balanced sensuousness and had upon it a tonic effect, compelling him to love beauty that was healthy and making him vibrate to sensations that were wholesome. And between the lips were teeth that had never known nor needed the dentist's care. They were white and strong and regular, he decided, as he looked at them. But as he looked, he began to be troubled. Somewhere, stored away in the recesses of his mind and vaguely remembered, was the impression that there were people who washed their teeth every day. They were the people from up above—people in her class. She must wash her teeth every day, too. What would she think if she learned that he had never washed his teeth in all the days of his life? He resolved to get a tooth-brush and form the habit. He would begin at once, to-morrow. It was not by mere achievement that he could hope to win to her. He must make a personal reform in all things, even to tooth-washing and neck-gear, though a starched collar affected him as a renunciation of freedom.

要不是他那丰满敏感的嘴唇在压力下会紧紧地抿到一起，他的嘴倒有点像胖乎乎的小孩的嘴。有时嘴若抿得太紧了，就会变得严肃、苛刻，甚至会像苦行者的嘴。它们是一个斗士的双唇，也是一个情人的双唇。它们能饶有趣味地品尝生活的甜蜜，又能将甜蜜放在一边去支配生活。他的下巴强壮有力，恰好显露出侵略性的方形，也帮助了嘴唇支配生活。力量平衡了敏感，也增强了敏感，驱使他热爱健康的美，使他为健康的感受而激动。双唇之间牙齿从未见过牙医，也不需要牙医照料。他看着它们，认为它们洁白、强健、整齐。但看着看着，他就苦恼了起来。在他内心深处的某个地方存有一个他隐约记得的印象，那就是有些人每天都要刷牙。他们是上层社会的人——她的那个圈子里的人。她一定也每天都刷牙。如果她知道他这辈子都没刷过牙会怎么想呢？他下定决心要买把牙刷，并养成刷牙的习惯。他决定马上开始，明天就开始。光靠已经有的东西，他可别指望想得到她。他必须在各方面进行一次个人改造，甚至是刷牙和打领结，尽管那僵硬的领子在他看来就如同放弃自由。

He held up his hand, rubbing the ball of the thumb over the calloused palm and gazing at the dirt that was ingrained in the flesh itself and which no brush could scrub away. How different was her palm! He thrilled deliciously at the remembrance. Like a rose-petal, he thought; cool and soft as a snowflake. He had never thought that a mere woman's hand could be so sweetly soft. He caught himself imagining the wonder of a caress from such a hand, and flushed guiltily. It was too gross a thought for her. In ways it seemed to impugn her high spirituality. She was a pale, slender spirit, exalted far beyond the flesh; but nevertheless the softness of her palm persisted in his thoughts. He was used to the harsh callousness of factory girls and working women. Well he knew why their hands were rough; but this hand of hers…It was soft because she had never used it to work with. The gulf yawned between her and him at the awesome thought of a person who did not have to work for a living. He suddenly saw the aristocracy of the people who did not labor. It towered before him on the wall, a figure in brass, arrogant and powerful. He had worked himself; his first memories seemed connected with work, and all his family had worked. There was Gertrude. When her hands were not hard from the endless housework, they were swollen and red like boiled beef, what of the washing. And there was his sister Marian. She had worked in the cannery the preceding summer, and her slim, pretty hands were all scarred with the tomato-knives. Besides, the tips of two of her fingers had been left in the cutting machine at the paper-box factory the preceding winter. He remembered the hard palms of his mother as she lay in her coffin. And his father had worked to the last fading gasp; the horned growth on his hands must have been half an inch thick when he died. But Her hands were soft, and her mother's hands, and her brothers'. This last came to him as a surprise; it was tremendously indicative of the highness of their caste, of the enormous distance that stretched between her and him.

他抬起手，用大拇指肚揉搓着长满老茧的手掌，注视着那已深深嵌入血肉中、任何刷子都刷不掉的污垢。她的手掌是多么的不同啊！他回想起她的手掌便舒服得颤抖不已。就像玫瑰花瓣，他心想；又像雪花，清凉、柔软。他从没想过单单女人的一只手竟可以如此柔软，如此讨人喜欢。他发现自己正想象着一个奇迹——被这样一只手爱抚，不禁羞愧得满脸通红。对她产生这样的念头真是太粗鲁了。从许多方面来说，这似乎是在攻击她高尚的精神。她是个苍白、苗条的仙女，远远超出肉体之外；但她柔嫩的手掌仍在他心头萦绕不散。他早已习惯工厂女工们和劳动妇女们那粗糙的老茧。他很清楚她们的手变粗糙的原因；但她的手……她的手柔软是因为她从不用它来干活。他惊奇地想到竟有人可以不用干活便可以生活，他与她之间的鸿沟又加宽了。他突然看到了那些不用劳动的人的贵族气派。它像一尊傲慢强势的青铜塑像，耸立在他面前的墙上。他自己是要干活的；他最早的记忆似乎就与劳动有关，他的全家都干活。格特鲁德干活。在她的手因做不完的家务活而变得僵硬之前，便已红肿得像是煮熟的牛肉，那是洗衣服造成的。还有他的妹妹玛丽安也干活。去年夏天她在罐头工厂干活，她那细长好看的手被番茄刀弄得到处是伤疤。此外，去年冬天她又把两个指头尖留在了纸箱厂的切割机里。他想起母亲躺进棺材时那粗糙的手掌。他的父亲在呼出最后一口微弱的气之前还在干活；他死去时手上像角一般的老茧足有半英尺厚。但她的手是柔软的，她母亲的手、她哥哥的手都是如此。她哥哥的手也如此柔软使他吃惊；这惊人地表明了她们家的阶级地位之高，也表明了她与他之间的距离大得惊人。

He sat back on the bed with a bitter laugh, and finished taking off his shoes. He was a fool; he had been made drunken by a woman's face and by a woman's soft, white hands. And then, suddenly, before his eyes, on the foul plaster-wall appeared a vision. He stood in front of a gloomy tenement house. It was night-time, in the East End of London, and before him stood Margey, a little factory girl of fifteen. He had seen her home after the bean-feast. She lived in that gloomy tenement, a place not fit for swine. His hand was going out to hers as he said good night. She had put her lips up to be kissed, but he wasn't going to kiss her. Somehow he was afraid of her. And then her hand closed on his and pressed feverishly. He felt her callouses grind and grate on his, and a great wave of pity welled over him. He saw her yearning, hungry eyes, and her ill-fed female form which had been rushed from childhood into a frightened and ferocious maturity; then he put his arms about her in large tolerance and stooped and kissed her on the lips. Her glad little cry rang in his ears, and he felt her clinging to him like a cat. Poor little starveling! He continued to stare at the vision of what had happened in the long ago. His flesh was crawling as it had crawled that night when she clung to him, and his heart was warm with pity. It was a gray scene, greasy gray, and the rain drizzled greasily on the pavement stones. And then a radiant glory shone on the wall, and up through the other vision, displacing it, glimmered Her pale face under its crown of golden hair, remote and inaccessible as a star.

他苦笑一声，坐回床上，总算把鞋脱了下来。他是个傻瓜；居然因一个女人的脸和她柔软白净的手而醉倒。就在那时，突然有一个幻象出现在他眼前肮脏的灰泥墙上。他站在一幢幽暗的公寓前面。时间是午夜，位置是伦敦东区，在他面前站着玛吉，一个十五岁的小女工。在吃完豆宴后他送她回家。她就住在那幢幽暗的公寓里，连猪都不适合住在那里。他正向她道晚安，并把手伸向她的手。她嘟起嘴唇等着他亲，但他不想亲她。不知怎么，他有点怕她。于是她就抓住了他的手，并疯狂地紧紧握住。他感觉到她手上的老茧碾磨着自己手上的老茧，心中泛起一阵强烈的怜悯之情。他看到她渴望、饥饿的眼睛和她那营养不良的女性身体，这身体从童年匆匆来到了充满恐惧和残忍的成熟期；于是他怀着极大的包容心抱住了她，弯下腰去亲了亲她的嘴唇。她低低的欢呼声在他耳中作响，他觉得她就像只猫紧紧地贴着他。这个可怜而饥饿的小姑娘！他还在凝视着这久远往事的幻象。他的身体就像那晚那个小女孩紧贴他时一样悸动起来，他的心热热的，充满了怜悯之情。这是一幅灰色的景象，油腻的灰色，细雨油腻腻地下在人行道的石头上。这时，一道耀眼的光芒照在墙上，穿透刚才那个幻象，并取代了它，闪耀着的是她那皇冠般的金色头发下苍白的脸，如星星般遥不可及。

He took the Browning and the Swinburne from the chair and kissed them. Just the same, she told me to call again, he thought. He took another look at himself in the glass, and said aloud, with great solemnity:—

他拿起椅子上布朗宁和斯温伯恩的书，亲了亲它们。不管怎样，她叫我再去看她，他心想。他又看了眼镜子里的自己，极为庄严地大声说道：

"Martin Eden, the first thing to-morrow you go to the free library an' read up on etiquette. Understand!"“马丁·伊登，明天第一件事就是去免费图书馆读读有关社交礼仪的书。听明白没！”

He turned off the gas, and the springs shrieked under his body.

他关掉了煤气灯，弹簧在他身下发出尖叫。

"But you've got to quit cussin', Martin, old boy; you've got to quit cussin'," he said aloud.“但你不能再说粗话了，马丁老伙计，不能再说粗话了。”他大声说。

Then he dozed off to sleep and to dream dreams that for madness and audacity rivalled those of poppy-eaters.

然后他打着瞌睡慢慢睡去了，做起了梦，那梦的疯狂和大胆程度足可以与鸦片佬的梦相匹敌。

CHAPTER V

第五章

He awoke next morning from rosy scenes of dream to a steamy atmosphere that smelled of soapsuds and dirty clothes, and that was vibrant with the jar and jangle of tormented life. As he came out of his room he heard the slosh of water, a sharp exclamation, and a resounding smack as his sister visited her irritation upon one of her numerous progeny. The squall of the child went through him like a knife. He was aware that the whole thing, the very air he breathed, was repulsive and mean. How different, he thought, from the atmosphere of beauty and repose of the house wherein Ruth dwelt. There it was all spiritual. Here it was all material, and meanly material.

次日早上，他从美好的梦境中醒来，发现房间里已是水汽蒙蒙，空气中带着肥皂泡和脏衣服的味道，整个房间都在艰苦生活的碰撞和吵闹中颤动。他走出自己的房间时，听到水花四溅的声音，然后是一声尖叫和一个响亮的耳光，这是他姐姐在冲着她无数子女中的一个发脾气。孩子嚎啕大哭的声音像刀子一样刺穿了他的身体。他意识到，这整个事情，甚至是他呼吸的空气，都是多么恶心、低俗啊。他想，这与鲁思所居住的那个家里那美丽恬静的气氛是多么不同啊。那里的一切都是崇高的。这里的一切都是世俗的，卑贱而世俗。

"Come here, Alfred," he called to the crying child, at the same time thrusting his hand into his trousers pocket, where he carried his money loose in the same large way that he lived life in general. He put a quarter in the youngster's hand and held him in his arms a moment, soothing his sobs. "Now run along and get some candy, and don't forget to give some to your brothers and sisters. Be sure and get the kind that lasts longest."“到这里来，艾尔弗雷德。”他对那个哭泣的孩子喊道，一边把手伸进裤袋里，他总把钱随随便便地放在那里，就跟他大体的生活方式一样。他把二十五美分塞进小家伙的手里，并抱了他一会儿，安慰他不要哭。“好了，快跑，去买些糖，别忘了分一些给哥哥姐姐弟弟妹妹们。一定要买那种可以放得最久的。”

His sister lifted a flushed face from the wash-tub and looked at him.

他姐姐从洗衣盆中抬起头来，红着脸望着他。

"A nickel'd ha' ben enough," she said. "It's just like you, no idea of the value of money. The child'll eat himself sick."“五分钱就够了，”她说，“你就是这样，不知道钱的贵重。他会把自己吃出病来的。”

"That's all right, sis," he answered jovially. "My money'll take care of itself. If you weren't so busy, I'd kiss you good morning."“没关系的，姐姐，”他愉快地回答，“我的钱能照顾好自己。要是你没这么忙，我倒想亲亲你，跟你说早安呢。”

He wanted to be affectionate to this sister, who was good, and who, in her way, he knew, loved him. But, somehow, she grew less herself as the years went by, and more and more baffling. It was the hard work, the many children, and the nagging of her husband, he decided, that had changed her. It came to him, in a flash of fancy, that her nature seemed taking on the attributes of stale vegetables, smelly soapsuds, and of the greasy dimes, nickels, and quarters she took in over the counter of the store.

他想对他的这个好姐姐表达爱意，他知道她以自己的方式爱着他。但不知道怎么的，这些年来她越来越不像自己，越来越难以理解。他觉得是辛苦的工作、太多的孩子和丈夫的唠叨使她发生了变化。突然一种幻觉闪进他的脑子，似乎她的本性变了，变得像不新鲜的蔬菜、难闻的肥皂泡和她在小店柜台上收到的油腻腻的一角、五分和二十五分的硬币。

"Go along an' get your breakfast," she said roughly, though secretly pleased. Of all her wandering brood of brothers he had always been her favorite. "I declare I will kiss you," she said, with a sudden stir at her heart.“去，吃你的早饭去。”她凶凶地说，尽管心里在暗自高兴。在她那一大群漫游四海的兄弟中，她一向都最喜欢她。“我宣布我要亲亲你。”她心中突然一阵感动，说道。

With thumb and forefinger she swept the dripping suds first from one arm and then from the other. He put his arms round her massive waist and kissed her wet steamy lips. The tears welled into her eyes—not so much from strength of feeling as from the weakness of chronic overwork. She shoved him away from her, but not before he caught a glimpse of her moist eyes.

她用拇指和食指抹掉了一条胳膊上滴落的肥皂泡，接着又抹了另一条。他双手抱住她那粗大的腰，亲吻了她湿湿的带着水汽的嘴唇。有泪水在她眼眶里打转——与其说是由于感情太过强烈，不如说是由于长期过度劳累使她变得软弱。她把他推开，但他还是瞥见了她湿润的双眼。

"You'll find breakfast in the oven," she said hurriedly. "Jim ought to be up now. I had to get up early for the washing. Now get along with you and get out of the house early. It won't be nice to-day, what of Tom quittin' an' nobody but Bernard to drive the wagon."“你去找，烤炉里有早饭，”她匆匆说道，“吉姆现在应该已经起来了。我不得不早点起来洗衣服。现在收拾一下你自己，早点出去吧。今天不会好过，因为汤姆不干了，伯纳德不得不自己开货车。”

Martin went into the kitchen with a sinking heart, the image of her red face and slatternly form eating its way like acid into his brain. She might love him if she only had some time, he concluded. But she was worked to death. Bernard Higginbotham was a brute to work her so hard. But he could not help but feel, on the other hand, that there had not been anything beautiful in that kiss. It was true, it was an unusual kiss. For years she had kissed him only when he returned from voyages or departed on voyages. But this kiss had tasted soapsuds, and the lips, he had noticed, were flabby. There had been no quick, vigorous lip-pressure such as should accompany any kiss. Hers was the kiss of a tired woman who had been tired so long that she had forgotten how to kiss. He remembered her as a girl, before her marriage, when she would dance with the best, all night, after a hard day's work at the laundry, and think nothing of leaving the dance to go to another day's hard work. And then he thought of Ruth and the cool sweetness that must reside in her lips as it resided in all about her. Her kiss would be like her hand-shake or the way she looked at one, firm and frank. In imagination he dared to think of her lips on his, and so vividly did he imagine that he went dizzy at the thought and seemed to rift through clouds of rose-petals, filling his brain with their perfume.

马丁心情低落地走进厨房，她红通通的脸和邋遢的体型组成的画面像酸东西一样侵蚀进他的头脑。他推想，只要她有点时间，可能就会爱他了。但她一直被驱使着干活，累得要死。伯纳德·希金博特姆简直是畜生，逼她这么辛苦地干活。然而，在另一方面，他又不禁感觉那一吻实在是没有什么美妙的东西。没错，这是个不寻常的吻。这么多年来，她都只是在他从海上回来或是出海时才亲吻他。但这个吻带着肥皂泡的味道，而且他注意到她的嘴唇松弛无力。那一吻中完全没有那本应伴随任何吻而来的快速有力的唇与唇的碰触。她的吻是一个疲惫妇女的吻，她已经操劳太久，都忘了如何亲吻了。他想起她还是个女孩的时候，还没结婚，在洗衣店干完一天活还要去跳一整晚的舞，跳得比谁都不差，完全不考虑跳完舞又要开始另一天的辛苦工作。然后他想到了鲁思，她的嘴唇应该像她全身一样清凉甜美吧。她的吻一定像她的握手或是她看别人时的方式，坚定而坦率。他幻想着，大胆地想象着她的唇贴着自己的唇，他想得太过生动，以至于被这个想法搞得头晕目眩，仿佛自己穿过了云层般的玫瑰花瓣，脑中溢满了玫瑰花的芬芳。

In the kitchen he found Jim, the other boarder, eating mush very languidly, with a sick, far-away look in his eyes. Jim was a plumber's apprentice whose weak chin and hedonistic temperament, coupled with a certain nervous stupidity, promised to take him nowhere in the race for bread and butter.

他在厨房里碰到了另一个房客，吉姆。他正无精打采地吃着玉米糊，眼中露出一股厌恶、疏远的神情。吉姆是个水管工学徒，不怎么会说话，天性好享乐，加上有一点神经质的傻气，注定使他在养家糊口的比赛中败下阵来。

"Why don't you eat?" he demanded, as Martin dipped dolefully into the cold, half-cooked oatmeal mush. "Was you drunk again last night?"“怎么不吃啊？”见马丁闷闷不乐地戳着那碗凉掉了的、半熟的燕麦粥，他开口问道，“你昨晚又喝醉了？”

Martin shook his head. He was oppressed by the utter squalidness of it all. Ruth Morse seemed farther removed than ever.

马丁摇了摇头。他是为这里肮脏透顶的一切而感到心情沉重。鲁思·莫尔斯似乎比任何时候都显得更遥远。

"I was," Jim went on with a boastful, nervous giggle. "I was loaded right to the neck. Oh, she was a daisy. Billy brought me home."“我被，”吉姆神经质地咯咯笑着，自夸地继续说道，“我被灌饱了，都到了脖子这儿。啊，她可是朵雏菊。比利把我送回来的。”

Martin nodded that he heard,—it was a habit of nature with him to pay heed to whoever talked to him,—and poured a cup of lukewarm coffee.

马丁点头表示自己听见了——这是他天性中的一个习惯，不管是谁跟他说话他都会留心听——然后倒了一杯微热的咖啡。

"Goin' to the Lotus Club dance to-night?" Jim demanded. "They're goin' to have beer, an' if that Temescal bunch comes, there'll be a rough-house. I don't care, though. I'm takin' my lady friend just the same. Cripes, but I've got a taste in my mouth!"“今晚去洛特斯俱乐部跳舞怎么样？”吉姆问，“他们那儿有啤酒，特迈斯科那帮人要是来了准会闹翻天。但我不在乎。我照样会带女伴去的。天哪，我嘴里的这是什么味啊！”

He made a wry face and attempted to wash the taste away with coffee.

他歪了下脸，试图用咖啡把那味道冲走。

"D'ye know Julia?"“你认识朱莉娅吗？”

Martin shook his head.

马丁摇了摇头。

"She's my lady friend," Jim explained, "and she's a peach. I'd introduce you to her, only you'd win her. I don't see what the girls see in you, honest I don't; but the way you win them away from the fellers is sickenin.' "“她是我女朋友，”吉姆解释说，“她可是个漂亮妞。我会把你介绍给她，只有你能把她弄到手。我不明白那些姑娘们看上你什么，说实话我真的不明白；但你从别人手上把她们抢走的方式叫人恶心。”

"I never got any away from you," Martin answered uninterestedly. The breakfast had to be got through somehow.“我从来没有从你手上抢走过谁。”马丁不感兴趣地说道。他不得不想办法吃完早饭。

"Yes, you did, too," the other asserted warmly. "There was Maggie."“有的，你抢走过的，”对方激动地肯定道，“玛吉就被你抢走了。”

"Never had anything to do with her. Never danced with her except that one night."“我跟她没关系。除了那晚就没跟她跳过舞。”

"Yes, an' that's just what did it," Jim cried out. "You just danced with her an' looked at her, an' it was all off. Of course you didn't mean nothin' by it, but it settled me for keeps. Wouldn't look at me again. Always askin' about you. She'd have made fast dates enough with you if you'd wanted to."“没错，就是那次出的事，”吉姆喊道，你只是跟她跳了跳舞，看了看她，但这样就足够让一切完蛋。当然了，你没想怎么样，但却让我永远没了指望。她再也不肯看我一眼。总是问起你。要是你想的话，她肯定已经轻易地跟你约会好几次了。”

"But I didn't want to."“可是我不想。”

"Wasn't necessary. I was left at the pole."Jim looked at him admiringly. "How d'ye do it, anyway, Mart?"“你当然不必。我被晾在了天边。吉姆羡慕地看着他。“不过话说回来，你是怎么做到的，马特？”

"By not carin' about 'em," was the answer.“不理睬她们。”马丁答道。

"You mean makin' b'lieve you don't care about them?" Jim queried eagerly.“你是说假装不理睬她们？”吉姆急切地问道。

Martin considered for a moment, then answered, "Perhaps that will do, but with me I guess it's different. I never have cared—much. If you can put it on, it's all right, most likely."

马丁想了一会儿，然后回答说：“也许那会管用，但我想我的情况不太一样。我从来就不怎么在意。如果你能装出那副样子，那也不错，多半会管用。”

"You should 'a' ben up at Riley's barn last night," Jim announced inconsequently. "A lot of the fellers put on the gloves. There was a peach from West Oakland. They called 'm 'The Rat.'Slick as silk. No one could touch 'm. We was all wishin' you was there. Where was you anyway?"“你昨晚应该去赖利的谷仓的，”吉姆换了个不相干的话题，说道，“很多家伙都戴上了手套。有个从西奥克兰来的硬角色。他们叫他‘耗子’。动作滑溜得像丝绸一样。谁都碰不到他。大家都希望你当时在场。话说回来，你到哪儿去了？”

"Down in Oakland," Martin replied.“去了奥克兰。”马丁回答道。

"To the show?"“去看表演了？”

Martin shoved his plate away and got up.

马丁把盘子推到一边，站了起来。

"Comin' to the dance to-night?" the other called after him.“今晚会来舞会吗？”吉姆在他身后喊道。

"No, I think not," he answered.“不，不去了。”他答道。

He went downstairs and out into the street, breathing great breaths of air. He had been suffocating in that atmosphere, while the apprentice's chatter had driven him frantic. There had been times when it was all he could do to refrain from reaching over and mopping Jim's face in the mush-plate. The more he had chattered, the more remote had Ruth seemed to him. How could he, herding with such cattle, ever become worthy of her? He was appalled at the problem confronting him, weighted down by the incubus of his working-class station. Everything reached out to hold him down—his sister, his sister's house and family, Jim the apprentice, everybody he knew, every tie of life. Existence did not taste good in his mouth. Up to then he had accepted existence, as he had lived it with all about him, as a good thing. He had never questioned it, except when he read books; but then, they were only books, fairy stories of a fairer and impossible world. But now he had seen that world, possible and real, with a flower of a woman called Ruth in the midmost centre of it; and thenceforth he must know bitter tastes, and longings sharp as pain, and hopelessness that tantalized because it fed on hope.

他走下楼，来到了外面的大街上，大口大口地吸起气来。他在那个环境中感到窒息，那学徒的唠叨快把他逼疯了。有好几次，他不得不抑制自己，好让自己不伸出手去把吉姆的脸按在玉米糊盘子里。他越唠叨，鲁思看起来就离他越远。与这种没用的人交往，他又怎么能配得上她呢？他被眼前面临的问题吓住了，他工人阶级的地位像噩梦一样压得他疲惫不堪。所有东西都伸出手来把他往下拽——他的姐姐，他姐姐的房子和家人，学徒吉姆，他认识的每一个人，生活中的每一种关系。生存的滋味在他嘴里并不美好。此前，他一直认为生存是件好事，因为他一辈子都是那么过来的。除了读书的时候，他从未怀疑过它；但那时，书仅仅是书，只是关于一个更加美好但不可能存在的世界的一个个神话故事。但现在他亲眼见到了那个世界，它是可能的，而且真实存在的，最最中心的便是那朵名叫鲁思的鲜花；从此以后，他必然会知道痛苦的滋味，如痛苦般尖锐的渴望，以及那以希望为食、可望而不可即的绝望。

He had debated between the Berkeley Free Library and the Oakland Free Library, and decided upon the latter because Ruth lived in Oakland. Who could tell? —a library was a most likely place for her, and he might see her there. He did not know the way of libraries, and he wandered through endless rows of fiction, till the delicate-featured French-looking girl who seemed in charge, told him that the reference department was upstairs. He did not know enough to ask the man at the desk, and began his adventures in the philosophy alcove. He had heard of book philosophy, but had not imagined there had been so much written about it. The high, bulging shelves of heavy tomes humbled him and at the same time stimulated him. Here was work for the vigor of his brain. He found books on trigonometry in the mathematics section, and ran the pages, and stared at the meaningless formulas and figures. He could read English, but he saw there an alien speech. Norman and Arthur knew that speech. He had heard them talking it. And they were her brothers. He left the alcove in despair. From every side the books seemed to press upon him and crush him.

他在伯克利免费图书馆和奥克兰免费图书馆之间犹豫，最终选择了后者，因为鲁思住在奥克兰。谁知道呢？——图书馆是她最有可能会去的地方，他说不定能在那里碰见她。他不懂图书馆的藏书方法，一直在无穷无尽的小说书架间穿来穿去，直到有个面容姣好、长得像法国人的姑娘告诉他参考类的书都在楼上，看来她是负责人。他不知道该向借书处的人问些什么，便开始自己在哲学区闯荡。他听说过有哲学这种书，但没想到有这么多都是关于哲学的。高大的书架塞满了厚重的学术著作，使他感到卑微，同时也刺激了他。这里有让他脑子充满活力的工作。他在数学区找到了关于三角学的书，翻看了一下，对着那些莫名其妙的公式和符号傻了眼。他能读懂英文，但他看到的一种陌生的语言。诺曼和阿瑟懂这种语言。他曾听到他们使用它。而他们是她的哥哥。他绝望地离开了那书架。那些书仿佛从四面八方向他压来，要把他压碎。

He had never dreamed that the fund of human knowledge bulked so big. He was frightened. How could his brain ever master it all? Later, he remembered that there were other men, many men, who had mastered it; and he breathed a great oath, passionately, under his breath, swearing that his brain could do what theirs had done.

他从没想过原来人类的知识储备如此丰富。他害怕了。他的脑子如何能把它全掌握？然后，他想起有人——有很多人——已经掌握了；他低声而又充满激情地许下了一个宏大的愿望，别人的脑子能做到的，他的一样能做到。

And so he wandered on, alternating between depression and elation as he stared at the shelves packed with wisdom. In one miscellaneous section he came upon a Norrie's Epitome. He turned the pages reverently. In a way, it spoke a kindred speech. Both he and it were of the sea. Then he found a "Bowditch" and books by Lecky and Marshall. There it was; he would teach himself navigation. He would quit drinking, work up, and become a captain. Ruth seemed very near to him in that moment. As a captain, he could marry her (if she would have him). And if she wouldn't, well—he would live a good life among men, because of Her, and he would quit drinking anyway. Then he remembered the underwriters and the owners, the two masters a captain must serve, either of which could and would break him and whose interests were diametrically opposed. He cast his eyes about the room and closed the lids down on a vision of ten thousand books. No; no more of the sea for him. There was power in all that wealth of books, and if he would do great things, he must do them on the land. Besides, captains were not allowed to take their wives to sea with them.

于是他继续转来转去，望着那堆满了智慧的书架，一会儿沮丧消沉，一会儿欢欣鼓舞。在杂学类的一个区，他偶然发现了一本《诺里著作摘要》。他充满敬意地翻看起来。某种程度上，那书的语言跟他的很接近。他和它都跟海洋有关。然后他找到一本鲍迪奇的书和几本莱基与马歇尔合著的书。就是这个了，他要自学航海术。他要把酒戒掉，好好钻研，然后成为一个船长。那一刻，鲁思似乎离他非常近。他成为一个船长的话，就可以娶她了（如果她愿意的话）。如果她不愿意，那么——他也会因她而在男人的世界里过上正派的生活，不管怎样酒都是要戒的。随后他又想起了股东和船主，这是一个船长必须伺候的两个主，他们都有权让船长听自己的话，也想让船长听自己的话，而股东和船主的利益刚好是完全对立的。他扫视了一眼整个房间，闭上眼睛描绘出一幅一万本书的画面。不，他再也不要与海有任何牵连了。在这丰富的藏书里蕴藏着力量，既然要做大事，那就在陆地上做。况且船主是不准带妻子出海的。

Noon came, and afternoon. He forgot to eat, and sought on for the books on etiquette; for, in addition to career, his mind was vexed by a simple and very concrete problem: When you meet a young lady and she asks you to call, how soon can you call? was the way he worded it to himself. But when he found the right shelf, he sought vainly for the answer. He was appalled at the vast edifice of etiquette, and lost himself in the mazes of visiting-card conduct between persons in polite society. He abandoned his search. He had not found what he wanted, though he had found that it would take all of a man's time to be polite, and that he would have to live a preliminary life in which to learn how to be polite.

中午到了，接着下午也来了。他忘了吃饭，继续找寻着有关社交礼仪的书；因为除了事业之外，还有一个简单而具体的问题折磨着他：你遇见一位小姐，而这位小姐叫你再去拜访她，该隔多久去呢？他这样问自己。可是当他找到了正确的书架，他对答案的搜寻仍徒劳无功。他被那座礼仪的大厦给震惊了，迷失在了上流社会那套有关名片行为的迷宫里。他放弃了寻找。他找不到他想要的东西，不过明白了一个人得花一辈子时间才能成为上流社会的人，而他必须从上辈子开始学习如何成为上流社会的人。

"Did you find what you wanted?" the man at the desk asked him as he was leaving.“找到想要的书了吗？”借书处的人在他离开时问他。

"Yes, sir," he answered. "You have a fine library here."“是的，先生，”他答道，“你们的图书馆很不错。”

The man nodded. "We should be glad to see you here often. Are you a sailor?"

那个人点点头。“希望你能经常过来。你是名水手吗？”

"Yes, sir," he answered. "And I'll come again."“是的，先生，”他答道，“我会再过来的。”

Now, how did he know that? he asked himself as he went down the stairs.

但他是怎么知道我是水手的呢？他下楼时问自己。

And for the first block along the street he walked very stiff and straight and awkwardly, until he forgot himself in his thoughts, whereupon his rolling gait gracefully returned to him.

走在第一个街区的街道上时，他姿势僵硬、笔直、不自然，直到他沉浸在思绪中忘了自己，他那摇摇晃晃的步伐又优雅地回来了。

CHAPTER VI

第六章

A terrible restlessness that was akin to hunger afflicted Martin Eden. He was famished for a sight of the girl whose slender hands had gripped his life with a giant's grasp. He could not steel himself to call upon her. He was afraid that he might call too soon, and so be guilty of an awful breach of that awful thing called etiquette. He spent long hours in the Oakland and Berkeley libraries, and made out application blanks for membership for himself, his sisters Gertrude and Marian, and Jim, the latter's consent being obtained at the expense of several glasses of beer. With four cards permitting him to draw books, he burned the gas late in the servant's room, and was charged fifty cents a week for it by Mr. Higginbotham.

一种可怕的、如饥饿般的不安情绪折磨着马丁·伊登。他渴望见到那个女孩，她曾用那纤细的小手以巨人般的握力紧握住了他的生命。他无法鼓起勇气去拜访她。他害怕自己去得太快，因而严重违背那被称为礼仪的可怕东西。他在奥克兰和伯克利的图书馆里花了很长时间，然后为自己、姐姐格特鲁德和妹妹玛丽安以及吉姆填好了会员申请表，为了得到吉姆的同意他不得不请他喝了几杯啤酒。有了这四张让他可以借书的卡，他便在仆人房里点着煤气灯熬起夜来，希金博特姆先生还为此每周多收了他五十美分煤气费。

The many books he read but served to whet his unrest. Every page of every book was a peep-hole into the realm of knowledge. His hunger fed upon what he read, and increased. Also, he did not know where to begin, and continually suffered from lack of preparation. The commonest references, that he could see plainly every reader was expected to know, he did not know. And the same was true of the poetry he read which maddened him with delight. He read more of Swinburne than was contained in the volume Ruth had lent him; and "Dolores" he understood thoroughly. But surely Ruth did not understand it, he concluded. How could she, living the refined life she did? Then he chanced upon Kipling's poems, and was swept away by the lilt and swing and glamour with which familiar things had been invested. He was amazed at the man's sympathy with life and at his incisive psychology. Psychology was a new word in Martin's vocabulary. He had bought a dictionary, which deed had decreased his supply of money and brought nearer the day on which he must sail in search of more. Also, it incensed Mr. Higginbotham, who would have preferred the money taking the form of board.

他读了非常多的书，但它们却更增加了他的不安。每本书的每一页都是个窥视孔，让他窥见了知识的王国。他的饥饿以他读到的东西为食，读得越多越是饥饿。而且，他不知道从哪里开始，不断地为基础太差而痛苦。他清楚地知道那些最平常的背景知识是每个读者都应该了解的，但他却不了解。对于那些读起来使他高兴得发狂的诗也是一样。除了鲁思借他的那本以外，他还读了一些斯温伯恩的其他作品；《多洛雷斯》他完全能读懂。但他觉得鲁思一定没读懂。过着那样高贵生活的她又怎么会读得懂呢？然后他偶然读到了基普林的诗，其中的旋律、节奏和他赋予普通事物的魅力使他倾倒。基普林与生活产生的共鸣和他对人们心理的敏锐洞察力使他震惊。在马丁的词汇表上，“心理”是个生词。他买了本词典，这使他手头的钱减少了很多，因此，他不得不出海赚钱的日子又更近了。当然，这也惹恼了希金博特姆先生，他当然希望这些钱能成为伙食费被他收走。

He dared not go near Ruth's neighborhood in the daytime, but night found him lurking like a thief around the Morse home, stealing glimpses at the windows and loving the very walls that sheltered her. Several times he barely escaped being caught by her brothers, and once he trailed Mr. Morse down town and studied his face in the lighted streets, longing all the while for some quick danger of death to threaten so that he might spring in and save her father. On another night, his vigil was rewarded by a glimpse of Ruth through a second-story window. He saw only her head and shoulders, and her arms raised as she fixed her hair before a mirror. It was only for a moment, but it was a long moment to him, during which his blood turned to wine and sang through his veins. Then she pulled down the shade. But it was her room—he had learned that; and thereafter he strayed there often, hiding under a dark tree on the opposite side of the street and smoking countless cigarettes. One afternoon he saw her mother coming out of a bank, and received another proof of the enormous distance that separated Ruth from him. She was of the class that dealt with banks. He had never been inside a bank in his life, and he had an idea that such institutions were frequented only by the very rich and the very powerful.

他不敢在白天走到鲁思家附近，但到了晚上他就像个小偷似的在莫尔斯家四周鬼鬼祟祟地走来走去，偷偷看几眼窗户，还爱上了那保护她的围墙。有好几次，他都几乎被她的哥哥发现，还有一次他跟着莫尔斯先生来到市中心，在灯火通明的大街上打量他的脸，同时一直盼望着会突然发生什么威胁他生命的危险，好让他能挺身而出拯救她的父亲。一天晚上，他的守夜活动终于得到了回报，他看到了二楼的窗户里鲁思的身影。他只看到她的头和肩膀，她正在镜子前面抬起手来整理头发。那虽然只是一瞬，但对他来说却很长，那时他的血液化作了美酒，在他的血管里歌唱起来。然后她拉下了窗帘。但这是她的房间——他发现了这点；这以后他便经常在那附近徘徊，躲在对面街上一棵黑漆漆的树下，抽掉了数不尽的香烟。一天下午他看见她母亲从一家银行出来，这又给了他一份证据证明他与鲁思之间的距离是如此遥远。她所处的阶级是与银行打交道的阶级。他一辈子都没进过银行，认为这种地方只有非常有钱、非常有势的人才会经常光顾。

In one way, he had undergone a moral revolution. Her cleanness and purity had reacted upon him, and he felt in his being a crying need to be clean. He must be that if he were ever to be worthy of breathing the same air with her. He washed his teeth, and scrubbed his hands with a kitchen scrub-brush till he saw a nail-brush in a drug-store window and divined its use. While purchasing it, the clerk glanced at his nails, suggested a nail-file, and so he became possessed of an additional toilet-tool. He ran across a book in the library on the care of the body, and promptly developed a penchant for a cold-water bath every morning, much to the amazement of Jim, and to the bewilderment of Mr. Higginbotham, who was not in sympathy with such high-fangled notions and who seriously debated whether or not he should charge Martin extra for the water. Another stride was in the direction of creased trousers. Now that Martin was aroused in such matters, he swiftly noted the difference between the baggy knees of the trousers worn by the working class and the straight line from knee to foot of those worn by the men above the working class. Also, he learned the reason why, and invaded his sister's kitchen in search of irons and ironing-board. He had misadventures at first, hopelessly burning one pair and buying another, which expenditure again brought nearer the day on which he must put to sea.

在某种程度上，他经历了一次道德上的革命。她的洁净纯洁影响了他，他感到体内对干净有种的迫切需要。如果他想配得上和她呼吸同样的空气就必须那样。他刷牙，用厨房里的硬毛刷刷手，后来在一家药店的橱窗里看到一把指甲刷，并猜到了它的用途。付钱的时候，店员瞥见了他的指甲，建议他买把指甲锉，于是他又多了一样梳妆用品。他在图书馆看到一本关于身体保健的书，便立即爱上了每天早上洗冷水澡，这叫吉姆非常吃惊，也令希金博特姆先生非常困惑，他不赞同这种高雅、新奇的念头，也认真地进行了一番思想斗争，是否应该让马丁多交点水费。他迈出的另一步是在裤子折缝的方向上。既然这类事已引起了马丁的注意，那他当然很快就注意到了工人阶级的裤子和地位高于工人阶级的人的裤子之间的差别，前者的膝盖部分松松垮垮，而后者从膝盖到脚背的折痕是笔直的。而且他还找出了原因，并闯入了姐姐的厨房去找熨斗和熨衣板。起初他闯了祸，令人绝望地烧毁了一条裤子，只好再买一条，花销使他必须出海的日子又更近了。

But the reform went deeper than mere outward appearance. He still smoked, but he drank no more. Up to that time, drinking had seemed to him the proper thing for men to do, and he had prided himself on his strong head which enabled him to drink most men under the table. Whenever he encountered a chance shipmate, and there were many in San Francisco, he treated them and was treated in turn, as of old, but he ordered for himself root beer or ginger ale and good-naturedly endured their chaffing. And as they waxed maudlin he studied them, watching the beast rise and master them and thanking God that he was no longer as they. They had their limitations to forget, and when they were drunk, their dim, stupid spirits were even as gods, and each ruled in his heaven of intoxicated desire. With Martin the need for strong drink had vanished. He was drunken in new and more profound ways—with Ruth, who had fired him with love and with a glimpse of higher and eternal life; with books, that had set a myriad maggots of desire gnawing in his brain; and with the sense of personal cleanliness he was achieving, that gave him even more superb health than what he had enjoyed and that made his whole body sing with physical well-being. 上句如下拆分:He was drunken in new and more profound ways—with Ruth, who had fired him with love and with a glimpse of higher and eternal life; with books, that had set a myriad maggots of desire gnawing in his brain;and with the sense of personal cleanliness he was achieving, that gave him even more superb health than what he had enjoyed and that made his whole body sing with physical well-being.

但改造不仅仅停留在外表上。烟仍旧在抽，但酒已经戒掉了。之前他一直觉得喝酒似乎是男人本就应该做的事情，而他也一直为自己那能把大多数人喝到桌子下面的好酒量自豪。偶然碰到以前同船的水手时——在旧金山有很多——他仍然会像以前那样请他们喝酒或是被他们请喝酒，但他每次都只给自己点一杯根汁啤酒或是姜汁汽水，然后和善地忍受着他们的嘲笑。当他们喝醉酒哭哭啼啼时，他就观察他们，看着他们被发作的兽性控制时，便感谢上帝自己和他们再也不一样了。他们有缺陷需要去忘记，一旦他们喝醉了，他们迟钝愚蠢的灵魂就和众神平起平坐了，甚至能在醉酒的欲望天堂里称王称霸。而对马丁来说，这种对烈酒的需要已经消失了。他以一种新的、更深沉的方式醉倒了——他为鲁思醉倒，她用爱、用更高尚而永恒的生命的一瞥燃起了他心中的激情；他为书醉倒，书使无数欲望的蛆虫啃食着他的头脑；还为个人的洁净感而醉倒，他正努力获取那种洁净，它使他享受到大大超过以前的极度健康，使他整个身体因肉体上的健康而欢唱。

One night he went to the theatre, on the blind chance that he might see her there, and from the second balcony he did see her. He saw her come down the aisle, with Arthur and a strange young man with a football mop of hair and eyeglasses, the sight of whom spurred him to instant apprehension and jealousy. He saw her take her seat in the orchestra circle, and little else than her did he see that night—a pair of slender white shoulders and a mass of pale gold hair, dim with distance. But there were others who saw, and now and again, glancing at those about him, he noted two young girls who looked back from the row in front, a dozen seats along, and who smiled at him with bold eyes. He had always been easy-going. It was not in his nature to give rebuff. In the old days he would have smiled back, and gone further and encouraged smiling. But now it was different. He did smile back, then looked away, and looked no more deliberately. But several times, forgetting the existence of the two girls, his eyes caught their smiles. He could not re-thumb himself in a day, nor could he violate the intrinsic kindliness of his nature; so, at such moments, he smiled at the girls in warm human friendliness. It was nothing new to him. He knew they were reaching out their woman's hands to him. But it was different now. Far down there in the orchestra circle was the one woman in all the world, so different, so terrifically different, from these two girls of his class, that he could feel for them only pity and sorrow. He had it in his heart to wish that they could possess, in some small measure, her goodness and glory. And not for the world could he hurt them because of their outreaching. He was not flattered by it; he even felt a slight shame at his lowliness that permitted it. He knew, did he belong in Ruth's class, that there would be no overtures from these girls; and with each glance of theirs he felt the fingers of his own class clutching at him to hold him down.

有天晚上他去了剧院，抱着能在那里见到她的盲目希望，从二层楼座上他真的看到了她。他看见她同阿瑟和另一个陌生男子一起沿着过道下来，那陌生男子的发型是橄榄球式的，戴着眼镜，他一见那人就立刻感到担心和嫉妒。他看到她在舞台前的圆型头等座位席坐了下来，整晚除了她几乎什么都没看——一对细长、雪白的香肩，一大片淡金色的头发，因距离远而有点模糊。但还有其他人在看戏，他偶尔环顾一下四周，发现前排十几个座位旁有两个年轻女子在向后看，大胆地望着他微笑。他一向很随和。拒绝别人不是他的天性。要是在以前他肯定会微笑回答，并进一步鼓励对方继续微笑。但现在不同了。他的确向她们微笑了，然后便转头故意不看她们了。但好几次，就在他已经忘了她俩的存在时，又瞥见她们在对着自己微笑。他不能一天失态两次，也不能违背他和蔼的本性；于是在那些时刻，他便冲着那两个女孩热情友好地微笑。这对他来说并不新鲜。他知道她们正向自己伸出女性之手。但现在不同了。下面远处的头等座位席里坐着世界上唯一的一个女性，她与这两个与他同一阶级的女孩如此不同，极度不同，因此对她们他只觉得怜悯和悲哀。他心中希望她们能拥有一点点她的精髓和光辉。他无论如何也不能因为她们向他伸出手而伤害她们。他并不因此觉得得意；他甚至感到一丝羞耻，因为正是他的地位低下才会使这种事发生。他知道，要是自己属于鲁思那个阶级，这些女孩就不会如此主动了；她们每看他一眼，他就觉得自己那个阶级的手指在拉扯着他把他往下拽。

He left his seat before the curtain went down on the last act, intent on seeing Her as she passed out. There were always numbers of men who stood on the sidewalk outside, and he could pull his cap down over his eyes and screen himself behind some one's shoulder so that she should not see him. He emerged from the theatre with the first of the crowd; but scarcely had he taken his position on the edge of the sidewalk when the two girls appeared. They were looking for him, he knew; and for the moment he could have cursed that in him which drew women. Their casual edging across the sidewalk to the curb, as they drew near, apprised him of discovery. They slowed down, and were in the thick of the crown as they came up with him. One of them brushed against him and apparently for the first time noticed him. She was a slender, dark girl, with black, defiant eyes. But they smiled at him, and he smiled back.

他在最后一幕结束前就离开了座位，希望能在她出剧院时见到她。外面的人行道上总有许多男人站在那，他可以拉下帽子遮住眼睛，然后躲在其中一个的肩膀后面，这样她就不会看见他了。他跟着第一批人群走出了剧院；但他刚在人行道边上站定，那两个女孩就出现了。他知道，她们是在找他；眼下他可以好好咒骂一下自己对女性的吸引力。她们看似随意地挤过人行道来到马路牙子上向他靠近，他知道她们发现他了。她们放慢脚步，挤在人群中跟着他走。其中一个碰了他一下，显出刚注意到他的样子。她是个苗条、黝黑的女孩，有双大胆的黑眼睛。但她们向他微笑了，他只好也向她们微笑。

"Hello," he said.“你们好。”他说。

It was automatic; he had said it so often before under similar circumstances of first meetings. Besides, he could do no less. There was that large tolerance and sympathy in his nature that would permit him to do no less. The black-eyed girl smiled gratification and greeting, and showed signs of stopping, while her companion, arm linked in arm, giggled and likewise showed signs of halting. He thought quickly. It would never do for Her to come out and see him talking there with them. Quite naturally, as a matter of course, he swung in along-side the dark-eyed one and walked with her. There was no awkwardness on his part, no numb tongue. He was at home here, and he held his own royally in the badinage, bristling with slang and sharpness, that was always the preliminary to getting acquainted in these swift-moving affairs. At the corner where the main stream of people flowed onward, he started to edge out into the cross street. But the girl with the black eyes caught his arm, following him and dragging her companion after her, as she cried:

这完全是无意识的；他以前经常在类似这样的初次见面中这样说。况且他不得不这样做。他天性中强烈的宽容心和同情心使他不得不这样做。那个黑眼睛的女孩微笑着表示感谢和问候，并显示出要停下的迹象；与她手挽着手的同伴咯咯一笑，也有停下脚步的意思。他快速思考着。绝不能在她出来时让她看见他正和她们说话。于是他相当自然地转过身来走在黑眼睛女孩的身边，似乎这是件理所应当的事。他一点也不尴尬，也没有笨嘴拙舌。他在这种情况下感觉很自在，他用玩笑话很好地坚守着自己的立场，话语中充满了各种俚语和嘲讽，在这类快节奏的恋爱中，这通常是相识的前奏。在一个十字路口，主要人群继续向前走着，他则开始从人群中往外挤，拐进了交叉的那条街道。但那个黑眼睛的女孩抓着他的手臂，拉着她的同伴跟着他，一边喊道：

"Hold on, Bill! What's yer rush? You're not goin' to shake us so sudden as all that?"“站住，比尔！跑这么快干吗？不是想就那么突然甩掉我们吧？”

He halted with a laugh, and turned, facing them. Across their shoulders he could see the moving throng passing under the street lamps. Where he stood it was not so light, and, unseen, he would be able to see Her as she passed by. She would certainly pass by, for that way led home.

他停下来哈哈一笑，转过身来面对她们。越过她们的肩头，他可以看见人流经过街边的路灯。他站着的地方灯光没有那么亮，他在这里不会被看见，却能在她经过时看见她。她一定会经过这里的，因为那是她回家的路。

"What's her name?" he asked of the giggling girl, nodding at the dark-eyed one.“她叫什么名字？”他问那个咯咯笑的女孩，冲着黑眼睛女孩点了点头。

"You ask her," was the convulsed response.“你问她呀。”对方笑着回答。

"Well, what is it?" he demanded, turning squarely on the girl in question.“好吧，那你叫什么？”他转过身来正对着那女孩问道。

"You ain't told me yours, yet," she retorted.“你还没告诉我你的名字呢。”她反击道。

"You never asked it," he smiled. "Besides, you guessed the first rattle. It's Bill, all right, all right."“你也没问啊，”他微笑着说，“不过，你倒是一猜就猜对了。就叫比尔，没错，没错。”

"Aw, go 'long with you."She looked him in the eyes, her own sharply passionate and inviting. "What is it, honest?"“噢，去你的吧。”她看着他的眼睛，眼神充满了激情和挑逗。“说实话，你叫什么？”

Again she looked. All the centuries of woman since sex began were eloquent in her eyes. And he measured her in a careless way, and knew, bold now, that she would begin to retreat, coyly and delicately, as he pursued, ever ready to reverse the game should he turn fainthearted. And, too, he was human, and could feel the draw of her, while his ego could not but appreciate the flattery of her kindness. Oh, he knew it all, and knew them well, from A to Z. Good, as goodness might be measured in their particular class, hard-working for meagre wages and scorning the sale of self for easier ways, nervously desirous for some small pinch of happiness in the desert of existence, and facing a future that was a gamble between the ugliness of unending toil and the black pit of more terrible wretchedness, the way whereto being briefer though better paid.

她又看着他。自有两性以来所有世纪的女性都展现在她的眼中。他以满不在乎的方式打量她，他现在胆子大了，明白只要自己进攻她就会开始害羞地、小心翼翼地撤退，而自己一旦变得胆小懦弱她又随时会扭转局势。当然，他也是人，也感受到了她的吸引力，他的自我因她爱意的奉承而忍不住感到得意。哦，这他都清楚，他对她们了如指掌。她们是善良的，按她们那个阶级对善良的标准来衡量的话；她们为了微薄的工资辛苦工作，也鄙视那种为了活得轻松些而出卖自己的行为；她们在生活的沙漠里迫切地渴望能得到些许快乐；她们面对的未来犹如一个赌局，要么是无休止的丑恶劳作，要么是更可怕的苦难深渊，通向后者的路更加短，尽管它能带来更多的收入。

"Bill," he answered, nodding his head. "Sure, Pete, Bill an' no other."“比尔，”他点着头回答道，“没错，就是比尔，没其他名字。”

"No joshin'?" she queried.“不是瞎说的？”她问他。

"It ain't Bill at all," the other broke in.“根本不是比尔。”另一个插进来说。

"How do you know?" he demanded.“你怎么知道？”他问，

"You never laid eyes on me before."“你以前从没见过我。”

"No need to, to know you're lyin'," was the retort.“不用见也知道你在瞎说。”对方反驳道。

"Straight, Bill, what is it?" the first girl asked.“说实话，比尔，叫什么？”第一个女孩问道。

"Bill'll do," he confessed.“比尔就行了呗。”他承认道。

She reached out to his arm and shook him playfully.

她伸手抓住他的胳膊，顽皮地摇了摇。

"I knew you was lyin', but you look good to me just the same."“我就知道你是瞎说的，不过我照样觉得你好。”

He captured the hand that invited, and felt on the palm familiar markings and distortions.

他抓住那只引诱他的手，感觉到了手掌上那熟悉的标记和变形的地方。

"When'd you chuck the cannery?" he asked.“你们什么时候开始不在罐头厂干了？”他问道。

"How'd yeh know?"and, "My, ain't cheh a mind-reader!" the girls chorussed.“你是怎么知道的？”“我的天，你该不是会读心术吧！”两人同时叫道。

And while he exchanged the stupidities of stupid minds with them, before his inner sight towered the book-shelves of the library, filled with the wisdom of the ages. He smiled bitterly at the incongruity of it, and was assailed by doubts. But between inner vision and outward pleasantry he found time to watch the theatre crowd streaming by. And then he saw Her, under the lights, between her brother and the strange young man with glasses, and his heart seemed to stand still. He had waited long for this moment. He had time to note the light, fluffy something that hid her queenly head, the tasteful lines of her wrapped figure, the gracefulness of her carriage and of the hand that caught up her skirts; and then she was gone and he was left staring at the two girls of the cannery, at their tawdry attempts at prettiness of dress, their tragic efforts to be clean and trim, the cheap cloth, the cheap ribbons, and the cheap rings on the fingers. 上句如下拆分:He had time to note the light, fluffy something that hid her queenly head, the tasteful lines of her wrapped figure, the gracefulness of her carriage and of the hand that caught up her skirts;and then she was gone and he was left staring at the two girls of the cannery, at their tawdry attempts at prettiness of dress, their tragic efforts to be clean and trim, the cheap cloth, the cheap ribbons, and the cheap rings on the fingers. He felt a tug at his arm, and heard a voice saying:—

他同她俩说着些从愚昧头脑中冒出的蠢话，在他心灵的眼前却耸立着图书馆高大的书架，里面装满了各个时代的智慧。他为这二者的不相称而苦笑，还被怀疑所困扰。在内心的幻象与外在的说笑之间，他还有时间观察涌出剧院的人群。这时，他看到了她，在路灯下，在她哥哥和那个戴眼镜的陌生青年之间，他的心跳似乎都停止了。他为这一刻等了很久了。他注意到了她女王般的头被一样轻飘飘的东西罩着，包裹起来的身体呈现出优美的曲线，还注意了她高雅的体态和那提着下摆的玉手；然后她不见了，只剩下他望着眼前的两个罐头厂女孩，她们试图打扮得高贵点，却显得花哨，她们想要变干净整洁的努力也令人悲哀，还有那廉价的布料、廉价的缎带和手上廉价的戒指。他感到手臂被人用力拉了一下，然后听到一个声音说：

"Wake up, Bill! What's the matter with you?"“醒醒，比尔！你怎么了？”

"What was you sayin'?" he asked.“你刚才说什么？”他问。

"Oh, nothin'," the dark girl answered, with a toss of her head. "I was only remarkin'—”“哦，没什么，”那个黑皮肤的女孩晃了下脑袋答道，“我只是在说——”

"What?"“什么？”

"Well, I was whisperin' it'd be a good idea if you could dig up a gentleman friend—for her" (indicating her companion), "and then, we could go off an' have ice-cream soda somewhere, or coffee, or anything.”“好吧，我刚才小声说要是你能找来一个你的绅士朋友——给她（指她的同伴），会是个不错的主意，然后我们可以找个地方去喝冰淇淋汽水或是咖啡，什么都可以。”

He was afflicted by a sudden spiritual nausea. The transition from Ruth to this had been too abrupt. Ranged side by side with the bold, defiant eyes of the girl before him, he saw Ruth's clear, luminous eyes, like a saint's, gazing at him out of unplumbed depths of purity. And, somehow, he felt within him a stir of power. He was better than this. Life meant more to him than it meant to these two girls whose thoughts did not go beyond ice-cream and a gentleman friend. He remembered that he had led always a secret life in his thoughts. These thoughts he had tried to share, but never had he found a woman capable of understanding—nor a man. He had tried, at times, but had only puzzled his listeners. And as his thoughts had been beyond them, so, he argued now, he must be beyond them. He felt power move in him, and clenched his fists. If life meant more to him, then it was for him to demand more from life, but he could not demand it from such companionship as this. Those bold black eyes had nothing to offer. He knew the thoughts behind them—of ice-cream and of something else. But those saint's eyes alongside—they offered all he knew and more than he could guess. They offered books and painting, beauty and repose, and all the fine elegance of higher existence. Behind those black eyes he knew every thought process. It was like clockwork. He could watch every wheel go around. Their bid was low pleasure, narrow as the grave, that palled, and the grave was at the end of it. But the bid of the saint's eyes was mystery, and wonder unthinkable, and eternal life. He had caught glimpses of the soul in them, and glimpses of his own soul, too.

他的精神突然感到一阵反胃。从鲁思到她们的转变太突然了。他眼前女孩的眼睛大胆而挑衅，而与之对应的，他看见鲁思那清澈明亮的眼睛如圣人般带着深不可测的纯洁凝视着他。不知怎么的，他感到体内有一股力量在涌动。他是高于这些的。生活对他来说比对那两个只想着冰淇淋和男人的女孩意味着更多。他想起自己在思想的世界里过的一向是秘密的生活。他曾想过将自己的想法与别人分享，但他从未遇到一个能理解这些想法的女人——或男人。他试过几次，但只弄得听者一头雾水。由于他的那些想法高于他们，他现在认为自己一定也高于他们。他感到力量在体内涌动，于是攥紧了拳头。如果生活对他来说意味着更多，那么他也得向生活索取更多，但他是无法从眼前这样的伙伴身上得到的。那双大胆的黑眼睛什么也给不了。他知道那双眼睛后面想着的不过是冰淇淋和另一样东西罢了。但那双圣人的眼睛可以给他所知道的一切和他做梦也想不到的东西。它们给他带来书和绘画，美和恬静，以及所有上层社会的优美高雅。他知道那双黑眼睛后面的所有思维过程。它就像发条装置。他能看见每个齿轮的运转。她们追求的是低级的趣味，像坟墓一样狭隘、暗淡，而坟墓也便是终点。但那双圣人的眼睛追求的是神秘、无法想象的神奇和永恒的生命。他曾在那些事物之间瞥见了她的灵魂，也同样瞥见了自己的灵魂。

"There's only one thing wrong with the programme," he said aloud. "I've got a date already."“这个计划中只有一样事出了差错，”他大声说，“我已经有约会了。”

The girl's eyes blazed her disappointment.

那女孩的眼睛冒着失望的火光。

"To sit up with a sick friend, I suppose?" she sneered.“我猜是要去陪一个生病的朋友是吧？”她冷笑道。

"No, a real, honest date with—” he faltered, "with a girl."“不，是个真真正正的约会，和——”他支吾着，“和一个女孩。”

"You're not stringin' me?" she asked earnestly.“不是在耍我吧？”她认真地问道。

He looked her in the eyes and answered: "It's straight, all right. But why can't we meet some other time? You ain't told me your name yet. An' where d'ye live?"

他看着她的眼睛回答说：“是真的，千真万确。但我们为什么不另找个时间见面呢？你还没告诉我你的名字呢。还有你住在哪儿？”

"Lizzie," she replied, softening toward him, her hand pressing his arm, while her body leaned against his. "Lizzie Connolly. And I live at Fifth an' Market."“丽奇，”她回答说，她对他的态度软了下来，用手按着他的手臂，身子靠着他。“利奇·康诺利。我住在五号大道和市场路的交叉口。

He talked on a few minutes before saying good night. He did not go home immediately; and under the tree where he kept his vigils he looked up at a window and murmured: "That date was with you, Ruth. I kept it for you."

他又和他们谈了几分钟，然后道了晚安。他并没有立刻回家；在他时常守侯的那棵树下，他抬起头喃喃地说道：“那是和你的约会，鲁思。我为你保留着。”

CHAPTER VII

第七章

A week of heavy reading had passed since the evening he first met Ruth Morse, and still he dared not call. Time and again he nerved himself up to call, but under the doubts that assailed him his determination died away. He did not know the proper time to call, nor was there any one to tell him, and he was afraid of committing himself to an irretrievable blunder. Having shaken himself free from his old companions and old ways of life, and having no new companions, nothing remained for him but to read, and the long hours he devoted to it would have ruined a dozen pairs of ordinary eyes. But his eyes were strong, and they were backed by a body superbly strong. Furthermore, his mind was fallow. It had lain fallow all his life so far as the abstract thought of the books was concerned, and it was ripe for the sowing. It had never been jaded by study, and it bit hold of the knowledge in the books with sharp teeth that would not let go.

从第一次遇见鲁思·莫尔斯的那个晚上起他开始刻苦攻读，已经过去一周了，但他还是不敢去看她。他曾一次次鼓起勇气要去看她，但重重顾虑之下他的决心又渐渐消失了。他不知道什么时候去看她才合适，也没人告诉他，他担心自己会犯下不可挽回的大错。他已经使自己摆脱了原来的那些朋友和生活方式，却又找不到新的伙伴，于是除了读书,他没什么事可干了。他埋头读起书来，一读就是好几个小时，若是普通的眼睛怕是都能毁了十几双了。但是他的眼睛十分坚强，又有一个极其强健的身躯在支持着。况且，他的思想是荒芜空白的。如果就书本上的那些抽象思想而言，这种心灵的荒芜从他有生以来就一直持续着，而此刻正是该播种的时候了。他的心灵从不曾对书本感到厌倦，而是用它的尖牙利齿牢牢咬住书本中的知识，绝不松开。

It seemed to him, by the end of the week, that he had lived centuries, so far behind were the old life and outlook. But he was baffled by lack of preparation. He attempted to read books that required years of preliminary specialization. One day he would read a book of antiquated philosophy, and the next day one that was ultra-modern, so that his head would be whirling with the conflict and contradiction of ideas. It was the same with the economists. On the one shelf at the library he found Karl Marx, Ricardo, Adam Smith, and Mill, and the abstruse formulas of the one gave no clew that the ideas of another were obsolete. He was bewildered, and yet he wanted to know. He had become interested, in a day, in economics, industry, and politics. Passing through the City Hall Park, he had noticed a group of men, in the centre of which were half a dozen, with flushed faces and raised voices, earnestly carrying on a discussion. He joined the listeners, and heard a new, alien tongue in the mouths of the philosophers of the people. One was a tramp, another was a labor agitator, a third was a law-school student, and the remainder was composed of wordy workingmen. For the first time he heard of socialism, anarchism, and single tax, and learned that there were warring social philosophies. He heard hundreds of technical words that were new to him, belonging to fields of thought that his meagre reading had never touched upon. Because of this he could not follow the arguments closely, and he could only guess at and surmise the ideas wrapped up in such strange expressions. Then there was a black-eyed restaurant waiter who was a theosophist, a union baker who was an agnostic, an old man who baffled all of them with the strange philosophy that what is is right, and another old man who discoursed interminably about the cosmos and the father-atom and the mother-atom.

当这一周结束时，他似乎觉得自己已经活了几个世纪，过去的生活和观念变得如此遥远。但由于缺少准备，他也遇到了一些挫折。他试图去啃一些需要多年的预备的专业知识才能读懂的书。他今天读一本关于那些古老哲学的书，明天又读一本超现代的书，因此不同的思想相互较量相互冲撞，弄得他晕头转向。读经济学家的著作情况也是一样。他在图书馆的一个书架上找到了卡尔·马克思、理嘉图、亚当·斯密和米尔他们写的书，而某一本书里的深奥公式丝毫不能说明另一本书里的思想是过时的。他感到困惑不已，但还是想弄个明白。一天之内，他对经济学、工业和政治都产生了兴趣。在穿过市政大楼公园时，他注意到有一群人正在进行一场激烈的讨论，中间有五六个人脸涨得通红，声音也提得很高。他加入到了听众当中，听到这些人民哲学家的嘴里说着一种奇怪的新语言。一方是个流浪汉，另一方是个劳工煽动者，第三方是个法学院学生，剩下的都是些聒噪的工人。这是他第一次听说社会主义、无政府主义和单一税制，知道有各种相互论战的社会哲学。他听到了数百个对他来说全新的术语，都属于他那一丁点儿阅读从未曾涉及的领域。由于这个原因，他不能很好地听明白这些争论，而只能猜测和推断这些陌生词汇所包含的思想。当时有一个黑眼睛的餐馆服务生，是个见神论者；一个联合会面包师，是个不可知论者；一位老人用“存在即合理”的奇怪哲学把所有人都弄糊涂了；还有另一位老人滔滔不绝地论说着宇宙以及父原子和母原子。

Martin Eden's head was in a state of addlement when he went away after several hours, and he hurried to the library to look up the definitions of a dozen unusual words. And when he left the library, he carried under his arm four volumes: Madam Blavatsky's Secret Doctrine, Progress and Poverty, The Quintessence of Socialism, and, Warfare of Religion and Science. Unfortunately, he began on the Secret Doctrine. Every line bristled with many-syllabled words he did not understand. He sat up in bed, and the dictionary was in front of him more often than the book. He looked up so many new words that when they recurred, he had forgotten their meaning and had to look them up again. He devised the plan of writing the definitions in a note-book, and filled page after page with them. And still he could not understand. He read until three in the morning, and his brain was in a turmoil, but not one essential thought in the text had he grasped. He looked up, and it seemed that the room was lifting, heeling, and plunging like a ship upon the sea. Then he hurled the Secret Doctrine and many curses across the room, turned off the gas, and composed himself to sleep. Nor did he have much better luck with the other three books. It was not that his brain was weak or incapable; it could think these thoughts were it not for lack of training in thinking and lack of the thought-tools with which to think. He guessed this, and for a while entertained the idea of reading nothing but the dictionary until he had mastered every word in it.

几个小时后，马丁·伊登要离开时，脑子里一片混乱。他匆匆赶往图书馆，翻查了好多罕见词汇的定义。离开图书馆时，他在腋下夹了四册书，分别是布拉瓦茨基夫人的《秘密教义》、《进步与贫穷》、《社会主义之精华》、《宗教与科学之战》。不幸的是，他从《秘密教义》开始读。每行都有一大堆他不懂的多音节词。他坐在床上熬夜，放在跟前的更多时候是字典而不是书本身。他查了那么多的新词，以至于它们再次出现时，他已经忘了它们的意思，又得重新再查。他设计了一个方法，就是把那些定义都写在一个笔记本上。于是，定义被写满了一页又一页。但他还是读不懂。一直读到凌晨三点，脑子里已是一团乱麻，可书中的重要思想他连一个都没有读进去。他抬头看了看，觉得这个屋子就像一艘海上的船只，一会儿上升，一会儿倾斜，一会儿下坠。然后，他连带着几句咒骂把《秘密教义》狠狠地扔到了屋子的另一头，关上煤气，定下神来睡觉去了。读其他三本书时，他也没有遇上什么好运。这并不是因为他的脑子笨或不好使，若不是缺少思考所必需的思维训练和思想工具，他是能够去思考这些想法的。他是这么认为的，而且有那么一段时间他开心地想着自己除了字典什么也不读，直到掌握字典里的每一个词为止。

Poetry, however, was his solace, and he read much of it, finding his greatest joy in the simpler poets, who were more understandable. He loved beauty, and there he found beauty. Poetry, like music, stirred him profoundly, and, though he did not know it, he was preparing his mind for the heavier work that was to come. The pages of his mind were blank, and, without effort, much he read and liked, stanza by stanza, was impressed upon those pages, so that he was soon able to extract great joy from chanting aloud or under his breath the music and the beauty of the printed words he had read. Then he stumbled upon Gayley's Classic Myths and Bulfinch's Age of Fable side by side on a library shelf. It was illumination, a great light in the darkness of his ignorance, and he read poetry more avidly than ever.

不过诗歌到是他的慰藉。他读了很多诗，并从一些较为朴实的诗人那里得到了最大的快乐，因为他们更容易让人理解。他热爱美的事物，而从这些诗歌当中他找到了美。诗歌就像音乐，深深地打动了他。尽管他还未察觉，但他已经在思想上为今后更繁重的劳动做准备了。他的思想还是一页页的白纸；丝毫不用费劲，他就把许多自己读到并喜欢的诗歌大段大段地印在了这些白纸上。于是很快，他就能从高声朗诵或默读这些印刷文字中得到无比的快乐了，他读的仿佛就是音乐和美。在图书馆的书架上，他偶然发现盖莱的《经典神话集》与布尔芬奇的《神话时代》并排放在一起。这是本启蒙书，像一束巨大的光芒投射到了他无知的黑暗中，他比过去更加如饥似渴地阅读着诗歌。

The man at the desk in the library had seen Martin there so often that he had become quite cordial, always greeting him with a smile and a nod when he entered. It was because of this that Martin did a daring thing. Drawing out some books at the desk, and while the man was stamping the cards, Martin blurted out:—

图书馆前台的那个人看到马丁如此频繁的来借书，变得十分热情起来。每当马丁进来时，他就微笑着和马丁点头打招呼。于是，马丁做了一件相当大胆的事。一次他到前台续借几本书，就在那人给卡片盖章时，马丁突然说道：

"Say, there's something I'd like to ask you."“啊——我有些事想向您请教呢。”

The man smiled and paid attention.

那人微笑着把注意力转了过来。

"When you meet a young lady an' she asks you to call, how soon can you call?"“当你遇到一位女士，她邀请你去拜访她家，你会过多久再去呢？”

Martin felt his shirt press and cling to his shoulders, what of the sweat of the effort.

马丁觉得他的衬衣紧紧贴着粘住了他的肩膀，说这些竟得费那么大劲，都出汗了。

"Why I'd say any time," the man answered.“要我说呀，什么时候都行。”那个人回答道。

"Yes, but this is different," Martin objected. "She—I—well, you see, it's this way: maybe she won't be there. She goes to the university."“话是这么说，可这事有点不一样，”马丁反对道，“她……我……唉，你看，事情是这样的：她有可能不在家。她在上大学呢。”

"Then call again."“那你就再多去一回呀。”

"What I said ain't what I meant," Martin confessed falteringly, while he made up his mind to throw himself wholly upon the other's mercy. "I'm just a rough sort of a fellow, an' I ain't never seen anything of society. This girl is all that I ain't, an' I ain't anything that she is. You don't think I'm playin' the fool, do you?" he demanded abruptly.“我说的并不是这个意思，”马丁支支吾吾地开始坦白，此时己决心要将自己完全交给对方去处置了。“我不过是个粗俗的人，没什么涉世经验。这个女孩的一切都是我的世界里所没有的，而我的任何东西也都不可能出现在她的世界里。你不会以为我是在瞎胡闹吧？”他突然问道。

"No, no; not at all, I assure you," the other protested. "Your request is not exactly in the scope of the reference department, but I shall be only too pleased to assist you."“不，不，完全没有，我可以向你保证。”对方辩驳道，“你提出的问题确实不属于咨询处的服务范围，但能为您效劳我再乐意不过了。”

Martin looked at him admiringly.

马丁充满敬意地看着他。

"If I could tear it off that way, I'd be all right," he said.“如果我也这么会说话，那该多好。”

"I beg pardon?"“我不太明白你的意思。”

"I mean if I could talk easy that way, an' polite, an' all the rest."“我的意思是，我多么希望自己也能这么自然优雅地交谈，彬彬有礼，以及其他等等。”

"Oh," said the other, with comprehension.“哦。”对方发出一声理解的感叹。

"What is the best time to call? The afternoon?—not too close to meal-time?“那什么时候去拜访她最好呢？下午？——不要太靠近吃饭的时间吧？

Or the evening? Or Sunday?”

还是傍晚？或者是星期天？”

"I'll tell you," the librarian said with a brightening face. "You call her up on the telephone and find out."“让我来告诉你吧，”那个图书管理员一脸自信地说道，“你可以给她打个电话，问个清楚。”

"I'll do it," he said, picking up his books and starting away.“好，那我就这么做了。”他说，一边拿起他的书准备离开。

He turned back and asked:—

可又转过身来问道：

"When you're speakin' to a young lady—say, for instance, Miss Lizzie Smith—do you say 'Miss Lizzie'? or 'Miss Smith'?"“当你跟一位年轻女士交谈时，比如莉齐·史密斯小姐，你会喊她‘莉齐小姐’吗？还是喊她‘史密斯小姐’呢？”

"Say 'Miss Smith,'" the librarian stated authoritatively. "Say 'Miss Smith' always—until you come to know her better.”“称呼她‘史密斯小姐’，”图书管理员充满权威的表示，“总是称呼她‘史密斯小姐’——直到你对她有更深的了解。”

So it was that Martin Eden solved the problem.

就这样，马丁·伊登把难题解决了。

"Come down any time; I'll be at home all afternoon," was Ruth's reply over the telephone to his stammered request as to when he could return the borrowed books.“随便什么时候过来都行，我下午都会在家。”当他结结巴巴地询问可以在什么时候把借她的书还回去时，鲁斯在电话那头是这样答复他的。

She met him at the door herself, and her woman's eyes took in immediately the creased trousers and the certain slight but indefinable change in him for the better. Also, she was struck by his face. It was almost violent, this health of his, and it seemed to rush out of him and at her in waves of force. She felt the urge again of the desire to lean toward him for warmth, and marvelled again at the effect his presence produced upon her. And he, in turn, knew again the swimming sensation of bliss when he felt the contact of her hand in greeting. The difference between them lay in that she was cool and self-possessed while his face flushed to the roots of the hair. He stumbled with his old awkwardness after her, and his shoulders swung and lurched perilously.

她亲自到门口去迎接他。她那双女性的眼睛立马就注意到了那褶线熨得笔挺的裤子和他身上一些无法言表但又确实存在的细微改变，变得更好了。同时，她也被他的脸所吸引。差不多可以说是粗豪的了，他的这种健康，仿佛从他体内奔涌而出，成为力波向他袭来。她又一次感觉到自己迫切地想要依偎着他获取温暖，同时也再一次惊讶于他的出现给她带来的影响。而他呢，反过来，一触到她为欢迎他同他相握的那只手，就再一次体验到令人眩晕的幸福感。他们之间的不同在于：她冷静且自持，而他却满脸通红，直至发根。他还如以往一样笨拙，跌跌撞撞地跟着她走，他的肩膀冒险地左摇右晃又突然倾斜。

Once they were seated in the living-room, he began to get on easily—more easily by far than he had expected. She made it easy for him; and the gracious spirit with which she did it made him love her more madly than ever. They talked first of the borrowed books, of the Swinburne he was devoted to, and of the Browning he did not understand; and she led the conversation on from subject to subject, while she pondered the problem of how she could be of help to him. She had thought of this often since their first meeting. She wanted to help him. He made a call upon her pity and tenderness that no one had ever made before, and the pity was not so much derogatory of him as maternal in her. Her pity could not be of the common sort, when the man who drew it was so much man as to shock her with maidenly fears and set her mind and pulse thrilling with strange thoughts and feelings. The old fascination of his neck was there, and there was sweetness in the thought of laying her hands upon it. It seemed still a wanton impulse, but she had grown more used to it. She did not dream that in such guise new-born love would epitomize itself. Nor did she dream that the feeling he excited in her was love. She thought she was merely interested in him as an unusual type possessing various potential excellencies, and she even felt philanthropic about it.

他们在起居室一坐下来，他便开始感觉自在多了——至少比他自己料想的要自在。为了使他不感到局促，她表现出的和蔼可亲的态度，使他比之前更加疯狂地爱她了。他们先是谈起那些借来的书，他所崇拜的斯温伯恩，和他不懂的布朗宁；然后她把话题一个又一个引开去，一面思量着怎样能对他有所帮助。自从他们第一次会面以来，她就经常在考虑这一问题。她想要帮他忙。他唤起她的怜悯与柔情，之前从来没有人能够做到这点，而这怜悯于他并没有丝毫贬损之意，于她却是出于母性的本能。而她的怜悯，并不是普通的那种，因为唤起她怜悯的那个人，用他犹如少女般的忧虑震撼了她，并有着奇怪的想法与感情，这使她的思想和脉搏都兴奋不已。眼前，他的脖子依然如往常一样吸引着她，她想像着将手放在他脖子上，心中充满了甜蜜。这似乎还是一种放肆的冲动，但她基本上已经习以为常了。她连做梦也不曾想到一场新的爱情会以这样的方式呈现。她也没有想到，他在她身上激起的那种情感就是爱情。她想，她对他只是感兴趣而已，因为他具有多种潜在的长处，是一个不平常的人，她甚至觉得这还有着悲天悯人的意味。

She did not know she desired him; but with him it was different. He knew that he loved her, and he desired her as he had never before desired anything in his life. He had loved poetry for beauty's sake; but since he met her the gates to the vast field of love-poetry had been opened wide. She had given him understanding even more than Bulfinch and Gayley. There was a line that a week before he would not have favored with a second thought—"God's own mad lover dying on a kiss"; but now it was ever insistent in his mind. He marvelled at the wonder of it and the truth; and as he gazed upon her he knew that he could die gladly upon a kiss. He felt himself God's own mad lover, and no accolade of knighthood could have given him greater pride. And at last he knew the meaning of life and why he had been born.

她不知道自己热切地渴望他；而他却截然不同。他知道自己爱她，并且热切地需要她，有生以来他从未如此迫切地渴望过什么。他曾经为了美爱好诗歌；但自从遇见了她，直达情诗的广阔园地的大门便为他敞开了。她给予他的理解甚至要比布尔芬奇和盖莱给他的更多。一周之前，这样的一行诗——“虔诚的恋人愿为一吻而死，”他恐怕是不愿再多想的；但是现在却始终缠绕在他心头。他惊异于这行诗的奥妙与真实；当他注视着她的时候，他明白自己愿为一吻含笑而死。他觉得自己就是那虔诚的恋人，即使是骑士的称号也不能给他更大的荣耀。最终，他懂得了生命的意义，和他为何而生的道理。

As he gazed at her and listened, his thoughts grew daring. He reviewed all the wild delight of the pressure of her hand in his at the door, and longed for it again. His gaze wandered often toward her lips, and he yearned for them hungrily. But there was nothing gross or earthly about this yearning. It gave him exquisite delight to watch every movement and play of those lips as they enunciated the words she spoke; yet they were not ordinary lips such as all men and women had. Their substance was not mere human clay. They were lips of pure spirit, and his desire for them seemed absolutely different from the desire that had led him to other women's lips. He could kiss her lips, rest his own physical lips upon them, but it would be with the lofty and awful fervor with which one would kiss the robe of God. He was not conscious of this transvaluation of values that had taken place in him, and was unaware that the light that shone in his eyes when he looked at her was quite the same light that shines in all men's eyes when the desire of love is upon them. He did not dream how ardent and masculine his gaze was, nor that the warm flame of it was affecting the alchemy of her spirit. Her penetrative virginity exalted and disguised his own emotions, elevating his thoughts to a star-cool chastity, and he would have been startled to learn that there was that shining out of his eyes, like warm waves, that flowed through her and kindled a kindred warmth. She was subtly perturbed by it, and more than once, though she knew not why, it disrupted her train of thought with its delicious intrusion and compelled her to grope for the remainder of ideas partly uttered. Speech was always easy with her, and these interruptions would have puzzled her had she not decided that it was because he was a remarkable type. She was very sensitive to impressions, and it was not strange, after all, that this aura of a traveller from another world should so affect her.

当他凝视着她、听她讲话的时候，他的思想越来越大胆了。他重温着在门口她的手紧握自己的手时带来的极大的愉悦，他真想再来一次。他的视线常常停留于她的双唇上，如饥似渴地渴望亲吻它们。而这渴望没有丝毫粗鄙和世俗的成分。看着她的双唇吐出话语时，它们的每个动作和姿态，都给了他绝妙的快感。她的双唇绝不仅仅是由人类的肉体构成的。这嘴唇是纯精神的产物，他对于它们的渴望完全不同于他对其他女人嘴唇的渴望。他可以亲吻她的嘴唇，将自己的血肉之唇覆在上面，但须带着崇高与敬畏的热诚，如亲吻上帝的袍子一般。他没有意识到，自己内心已经对价值观进行了重新评估，也没有察觉到看着她时自己眼中闪耀的光芒，正是所有渴望爱情的男人眼中闪耀的光芒。他做梦也想不到自己的眼光多么炽热多么有男子气概，也想不到那温暖的火焰正引起她内心的神秘变化。她深入骨髓的处女之纯洁，提升并掩饰了他自己的感情，把他的思想提高至如星星般清高的纯洁。他眼中闪耀的光芒，像热浪一般，流过她全身并激起同样的热情，他若知道的话恐怕会很震惊吧。很微妙地，她被这个搞得心绪不宁，而且还不止一次，她也莫名其妙，这令人愉快的侵扰竟扰乱了她一连串的思想，并且迫使她说了一部分想法之后还得探寻剩余的部分。交谈对于她一向是件容易的事，要不是她断定这乃是由于他是个不同凡响的人物所致，这些干扰会令她困惑不已的。她的观感异常灵敏，终究，一个来自另一世界的旅人带来的氛围理应这么影响她，这也不算奇怪。

The problem in the background of her consciousness was how to help him, and she turned the conversation in that direction; but it was Martin who came to the point first.

她心底的问题是如何帮助他，她便把交谈引向这个方向；但首先谈到要点的还是马丁。

"I wonder if I can get some advice from you," he began, and received an acquiescence of willingness that made his heart bound. "You remember the other time I was here I said I couldn't talk about books an' things because I didn't know how? Well, I've ben doin' a lot of thinkin' ever since. I've ben to the library a whole lot, but most of the books I've tackled have ben over my head. Mebbe I'd better begin at the beginnin'. I ain't never had no advantages. I've worked pretty hard ever since I was a kid, an' since I've ben to the library, lookin'with new eyes at books—an' lookin' at new books, too—I've just about concluded that I ain't ben reading the right kind. You know the books you find in cattle-camps an' fo'c's'ls ain't the same you've got in this house, for instance. Well, that's the sort of readin' matter I've ben accustomed to. And yet—an' I ain't just makin' a brag of it—I've ben different from the people I've herded with. Not that I'm any better than the sailors an' cow-punchers I travelled with，—I was cow-punchin' for a short time, you know,—but I always liked books, read everything I could lay hands on, an'—well, I guess I think differently from most of 'em.“我在想是否能从你这儿得到一些建议，”他开始说，得到对方的欣然默许，他的心怦怦地跳。“你还记得吗？上回在这儿我说过我不能谈论书本阐述想法因为我不知道怎么谈。嗯，打那以后我想了很多。我经常到图书馆，可看的那些书，大部分都超出了我的理解范围。也许，我最好还是从头做起。我从来就没有半点儿长处。打小我就非常用功，自打我去了图书馆，用新的眼光看书——也看新书——我差不多得出结论了，我没读到合适的书。你知道，你在牧区和水手舱里找到的书，比方说，跟这房子里的书就不一样。嗯，那些书就是我读惯了的那类书。可是——不是我吹牛——我跟那些和我混在一起的人可不同。不是说我比那些跟我一起游荡的水手和牛仔强点儿——你知道，有一段时间我放过牛——但是我一直喜欢书，碰到什么就读什么——嗯，我想我的想法跟他们中的大多数都不一样。

"Now, to come to what I'm drivin' at. I was never inside a house like this. When I come a week ago, an' saw all this, an' you, an' your mother, an' brothers, an' everything—well, I liked it. I'd heard about such things an' read about such things in some of the books, an' when I looked around at your house, why, the books come true. But the thing I'm after is I liked it. I wanted it. I want it now. I want to breathe air like you get in this house—air that is filled with books, and pictures, and beautiful things, where people talk in low voices an' are clean, an' their thoughts are clean. The air I always breathed was mixed up with grub an' house-rent an' scrappin' an booze an' that's all they talked about, too. Why, when you was crossin' the room to kiss your mother, I thought it was the most beautiful thing I ever seen. I've seen a whole lot of life, an' somehow I've seen a whole lot more of it than most of them that was with me. I like to see, an' I want to see more, an' I want to see it different.“现在，来说说我要说的话吧。我从没进过这样一座房子。一个星期前，我来了，看到了这里一切，你、你母亲、你兄弟还有这里的一切——我都喜欢。我听说过这些，也从一些书中读到过这些，当我在你们家里四处一看，噢，书里写的变成真的了。可是我要说的是，我喜欢它。我需要它。我现在还是需要它。我要呼吸一下你在这房子里呼吸着的空气——充满书、画和美好事物的空气。这里，人们低声细气地谈话，他们身上干净，他们的思想也干净。我经常呼吸着的空气呢，混合着苦工、房租、吵架和喝酒的味道，他们谈的也都是这些。啊，当你穿过房间去吻你母亲的时候，我想，那是我所见过的最美好的事。我见过多种多样的生活，比大多数和我交往的人见得还要多一点儿。我喜欢看，我还要再多看一点儿，而且还要看出它的不同。

"But I ain't got to the point yet. Here it is. I want to make my way to the kind of life you have in this house. There's more in life than booze, an' hard work, an' knockin' about. Now, how am I goin' to get it? Where do I take hold an' begin? I'm willin' to work my passage, you know, an' I can make most men sick when it comes to hard work. Once I get started, I'll work night an' day. Mebbe you think it's funny, me askin' you about all this. I know you're the last person in the world I ought to ask, but I don't know anybody else I could ask—unless it's Arthur. Mebbe I ought to ask him. If I was—”“但是，我还没有说到正题上呢。那就是：我想要过你在这房子里过着的那种生活。生活中除了喝酒，做苦工，闲逛，还有更多。那么，我要怎样才能做到呢？我该从哪儿去站稳脚跟，并开始呢？我是愿意用自己的劳动获取回报的，你知道，说到做苦工，大多数人都做不过我，他们吃不消。只要一开始，我就没白没黑地干了。我跟你商量这些，也许你会觉得好笑。我知道在这世上你是我最不该请教的人，可是我不知道还有没有别的人可以请教——除了阿瑟。也许我该去请教他。如果我——”

His voice died away. His firmly planned intention had come to a halt on the verge of the horrible probability that he should have asked Arthur and that he had made a fool of himself. Ruth did not speak immediately. She was too absorbed in striving to reconcile the stumbling, uncouth speech and its simplicity of thought with what she saw in his face. She had never looked in eyes that expressed greater power. Here was a man who could do anything, was the message she read there, and it accorded ill with the weakness of his spoken thought. And for that matter so complex and quick was her own mind that she did not have a just appreciation of simplicity. And yet she had caught an impression of power in the very groping of this mind. It had seemed to her like a giant writhing and straining at the bonds that held him down. Her face was all sympathy when she did speak.

他的声音渐渐沉寂。一想到他原该去问阿瑟，他妥善制定的计划在这个可怕的可能性面前打住了。他出了自己的洋相。鲁思并没有立刻说话。她太专心于把这些结巴粗俗的话语和他质朴的思想同她在他脸上所看到的相调和了。她从没看到过能比他的眼睛表现出更大力量的眼睛了。这是一个什么事都能做到的人，这便是她从那儿读到的信息，而这与他在表达思想方面的薄弱很不符合。就此而言，她的思想可谓复杂且敏捷，对于他的质朴没有给予应有的重视。不过在摸索对方心思的过程中，她感觉到了一种强大的印象。她仿佛看到一个巨人，扭动着，想要挣脱束缚他的锁链。当她终于说话时，脸上充满着同情。

"What you need, you realize yourself, and it is education. You should go back and finish grammar school, and then go through to high school and university."“你需要的，你自己也清楚，那就是教育。你得回去把小学读完，然后再读高中和大学。”

"But that takes money," he interrupted.“可那是要钱的。”他打断道。

"Oh!" she cried. "I had not thought of that. But then you have relatives, somebody who could assist you?"“噢！”她叫道。“我没有想到这一点。但是你有亲戚，或是什么人可以帮助你吗？”

He shook his head.

他摇头。

"My father and mother are dead. I've two sisters, one married, an' the other'll get married soon, I suppose. Then I've a string of brothers,—I'm the youngest,—but they never helped nobody. They've just knocked around over the world, lookin' out for number one. The oldest died in India. Two are in South Africa now, an' another's on a whaling voyage, an' one's travellin' with a circus—he does trapeze work. An' I guess I'm just like them. I've taken care of myself since I was eleven—that's when my mother died. I've got to study by myself, I guess, an' what I want to know is where to begin."“我父母都死了。我有两个姊妹，一个早结婚了，另外一个，我估计也快要结婚了。我有很多兄弟，——我是最小的，——但是他们从来不帮人。他们满世界闲逛，只为自己着想。最大的兄弟死在印度。有两个现在在南非，另外一个在海上捕鲸，一个跟着马戏团——他是打秋千的。我想，我跟他们一样。从十一岁起，我便照顾自己的生活——我母亲就是那年死的。我想，我得自学，我想知道的是从哪开始。

"I should say the first thing of all would be to get a grammar. Your grammar is—”She had intended saying "awful," but she amended it to "is not particularly good."“我得说，你首先要学的是语法。你的语法——”她原想说“糟透了”，但是改成了“不是特别好”。

He flushed and sweated.

他满脸通红，汗流浃背。

"I know I must talk a lot of slang an' words you don't understand. But then they're the only words I know—how to speak. I've got other words in my mind, picked 'em up from books, but I can't pronounce 'em, so I don't use 'em."“我知道我一定说了很多粗话和你听不懂的话。可那些就是我能说的话。我脑子里也有别的词，从书上捡来的，但是我不会发音，也就不去用它们。

"It isn't what you say, so much as how you say it. You don't mind my being frank, do you? I don't want to hurt you."“这并不在于你说什么，而在于你怎样说它。你不介意我直说吧？我并非有意让你难堪。”

"No, no," he cried, while he secretly blessed her for her kindness. "Fire away. I've got to know, an' I'd sooner know from you than anybody else."“不，不，”他叫道，同时暗暗感怀她的好意。“你说吧。我得知道，再说，我也愿意先从你这儿知道。”

"Well, then, you say, 'You was'; it should be, 'You were.' You say 'I seen' for 'I saw.'You use the double negative—”“那么，你刚说了'You was'，其实应该是'You were'。你说'I seen'来代替'I saw'。你用双重否定——”

"What's the double negative?" he demanded; then added humbly, "You see, I don't even understand your explanations."“什么是双重否定？”他问，然后又谦恭地补了一句，“你看，我连你解释的都不懂。”

"I'm afraid I didn't explain that," she smiled.“我看我还没有解释呢。”她笑了。

"A double negative is—let me see—well, you say, 'never helped nobody.''Never' is a negative. 'Nobody' is another negative. It is a rule that two negatives make a positive. 'Never helped nobody' means that, not helping nobody, they must have helped somebody."“双重否定就是——让我想想——对啦，你说'never helped nobody'，'Never'就是个否定。'Nobody'是又一个否定。两个否定构成一个肯定，这是一条规则。'Never helped nobody'的意思不是没有帮助谁，那就是他们一定帮过谁。

"That's pretty clear," he said. "I never thought of it before. But it don't mean they must have helped somebody, does it? Seems to me that 'never helped nobody' just naturally fails to say whether or not they helped somebody. I never thought of it before, and I'll never say it again."“很清楚，”他说，“我之前从没想到过。但是这也不是说他们帮助过谁，是吗？我觉得，'never helped nobody'没有说清楚他们有没有帮助过什么人。我以前从没想到过这个，以后不再说它好啦。

She was pleased and surprised with the quickness and surety of his mind. As soon as he had got the clew he not only understood but corrected her error.

她对于他心思的灵敏和有决断力，感到又欢喜又惊讶。他一得到一点提示，就不仅能弄懂，而且还纠正了她的错误。

"You'll find it all in the grammar," she went on. "There's something else I noticed in your speech. You say 'don't' when you shouldn't. 'Don't' is a contraction and stands for two words. Do you know them?"“你在语法书中就能找到这些，”她继续说，“在你的话里，我还注意到一些其他的问题。不该说'don't’时，你也说'don't’。'Don't’是一个缩写式，代表两个词。你知道是哪两个词吗？”

He thought a moment, then answered, “'Do not.'"

他想了一会儿，然后答道："do not"。

She nodded her head, and said, "And you use 'don't' when you mean 'does not.'"

她点点头，说：“但你的意思是'does not'时，你也说'don't’。”

He was puzzled over this, and did not get it so quickly.

他对此感到困惑，没有很快地搞明白。

"Give me an illustration," he asked.“给我举个例子吧，”他请求道。

"Well—”She puckered her brows and pursed up her mouth as she thought, while he looked on and decided that her expression was most adorable. “'It don't do to be hasty.' Change 'don't' to 'do not,' and it reads, 'It do not do to be hasty,' which is perfectly absurd."“好吧——”她在思索的时候，皱着眉，撅着嘴；他看着她，认定她的表情是最讨人喜欢的。“'It don't do to be hasty.’把'don't’改作'do not'便变成'It do not do to be hasty'了，这是完全不对的。”

He turned it over in his mind and considered.

他在心里反复思量着。

"Doesn't it jar on your ear?" she suggested.“你不觉着不顺耳吗？”她提醒他。

"Can't say that it does," he replied judicially.“不能说不顺耳，”他考虑了一下答道，

"Why didn't you say, 'Can't say that it do'?" she queried.“你为什么不说‘不能说不顺耳（it do）’呢？”她追问道。

"That sounds wrong," he said slowly. "As for the other I can't make up my mind. I guess my ear ain't had the trainin' yours has."“听起来不对劲，”他慢吞吞地说，“另外一句，我可拿不准。我想我的耳朵不像你的耳朵受过那样的训练。”

"There is no such word as 'ain't,'" she said, prettily emphatic.“没有'ain't’这样的词，”她特别强调。

Martin flushed again.

马丁又满脸通红。

"And you say 'ben' for 'been,'" she continued; “'come' for 'came'; and the way you chop your endings is something dreadful."“你还说'ben'，而不是'been'，”她接着说，“你用'come'代替'came',你吞掉尾音也是很不好的。”

"How do you mean?"He leaned forward, feeling that he ought to get down on his knees before so marvellous a mind. "How do I chop?"“这话怎么讲？”他身体前倾，觉得真该在如此非凡的头脑之前跪下。“我是怎么吞音的呢？”

"You don't complete the endings. 'A-n-d' spells 'and.' You pronounce it 'an'.' 'I-n-g' spells 'ing.' Sometimes you pronounce it 'ing' and sometimes you leave off the 'g.' And then you slur by dropping initial letters and diphthongs. 'T-h-e-m' spells 'them.' You pronounce it—oh, well, it is not necessary to go over all of them. What you need is the grammar. I'll get one and show you how to begin."“你没有把尾音完全念出来。‘A-n-d’拼作'and',你把它读成'an'，‘I-n-g’拼作'ing'，有时你漏掉了'g'。有时你发音含糊，读漏词首字母和双元音。‘T-h-e-m’拼作'them'，你把它读成——噢，用不着一一都讲了。你需要的是语法书。我去给你找一本，然后告诉你怎么开始吧。”

As she arose, there shot through his mind something that he had read in the etiquette books, and he stood up awkwardly, worrying as to whether he was doing the right thing, and fearing that she might take it as a sign that he was about to go.

她站起身时，他脑子里突然闪过从礼仪书上看到的什么东西，他便局促不安地站起来，同时又担心自己是否做得对，又害怕她误以为他要走了。

"By the way, Mr. Eden," she called back, as she was leaving the room. "What is booze? You used it several times, you know."“顺便问一句，伊登先生，”她正要离开房间时，回头说道，“什么叫‘猫尿’？你知道，你说了好几次。”

"Oh, booze," he laughed. "It's slang. It means whiskey an' beer—anything that will make you drunk.”“噢，猫尿，”他笑了，“这是土话。意思就是威士忌和啤酒——总之是能让你醉的东西。”

"And another thing," she laughed back. "Don't use 'you' when you are impersonal. 'You' is very personal, and your use of it just now was not precisely what you meant."“还有一桩，”她也笑了，“如果你不特指某个人的时候，就别用‘你’。‘你’是特指某个人，而你刚才用的‘你’，并没有准确地表达你要说的意思。”

"I don't just see that."“我不怎么明白。”

"Why, you said just now, to me, 'whiskey and beer—anything that will make you drunk'—make me drunk, don't you see?"“啊，你刚才对我说，‘威士忌和啤酒——总之是能让你醉的东西，’——让‘我’醉，还不明白吗？”

"Well, it would, wouldn't it?"“那么，它会让你醉，不是吗？”

"Yes, of course," she smiled. "But it would be nicer not to bring me into it. Substitute 'one' for 'you' and see how much better it sounds."“当然会，”她笑了，“但是别把我扯进去就更好了。用‘人’代替‘你’，听起来顺耳多了。”

When she returned with the grammar, she drew a chair near his—he wondered if he should have helped her with the chair—and sat down beside him. She turned the pages of the grammar, and their heads were inclined toward each other. He could hardly follow her outlining of the work he must do, so amazed was he by her delightful propinquity. But when she began to lay down the importance of conjugation, he forgot all about her. He had never heard of conjugation, and was fascinated by the glimpse he was catching into the tie-ribs of language. He leaned closer to the page, and her hair touched his cheek. He had fainted but once in his life, and he thought he was going to faint again. He could scarcely breathe, and his heart was pounding the blood up into his throat and suffocating him. Never had she seemed so accessible as now. For the moment the great gulf that separated them was bridged. But there was no diminution in the loftiness of his feeling for her. She had not descended to him. It was he who had been caught up into the clouds and carried to her. His reverence for her, in that moment, was of the same order as religious awe and fervor. It seemed to him that he had intruded upon the holy of holies, and slowly and carefully he moved his head aside from the contact which thrilled him like an electric shock and of which she had not been aware.

当她拿着一本语法书回来的时候，她拉来一把椅子——他不知道该不该帮她拉椅子——在他身边坐下。她翻着语法书，他们的头靠在一起。她列出提纲，告诉他必做的功课，他几乎都跟不上。对于她令人愉悦的亲近，他是多么惊讶。但当她开始指出动词变位的重要性时，他便完全忘掉她了。他从未听说过什么动词变位，他只稍微了解了一点儿语言的骨架，就被深深吸引了。他倾身靠近书页，她的发丝触到了他的面颊。他一辈子只晕倒过一次，他想，这回他又要晕倒了。他几乎不能呼吸，他的心脏正把他的血液猛推向他的喉咙，令他窒息。她跟他似乎从未像现在一样亲近。因为那一刻，分隔两人的巨大鸿沟之上架起了一座桥梁。但他对她的感情依然崇高，没有缩减。她并没有屈尊迁就他。是他被带上云端来到她身边。那一刻他对她的崇敬，与宗教的敬畏和虔诚相同。他仿佛已闯入至圣之所，缓缓地小心地把头侧向一边，避开那像触电般令他震颤的接触，而她对此却浑然不觉。

CHAPTER VIII

第八章

Several weeks went by, during which Martin Eden studied his grammar, reviewed the books on etiquette, and read voraciously the books that caught his fancy. Of his own class he saw nothing. The girls of the Lotus Club wondered what had become of him and worried Jim with questions, and some of the fellows who put on the glove at Riley's were glad that Martin came no more. He made another discovery of treasure-trove in the library. As the grammar had shown him the tie-ribs of language, so that book showed him the tie-ribs of poetry, and he began to learn metre and construction and form, beneath the beauty he loved finding the why and wherefore of that beauty. Another modern book he found treated poetry as a representative art, treated it exhaustively, with copious illustrations from the best in literature. Never had he read fiction with so keen zest as he studied these books. And his fresh mind, untaxed for twenty years and impelled by maturity of desire, gripped hold of what he read with a virility unusual to the student mind.

几个星期过去了，在这期间，马丁·伊登学习了语法，复习了那些礼仪书，并贪婪地读了那些令他感兴趣的书。属于他自己阶级的人，他都不见。洛特斯俱乐部的姑娘们怀疑他发生了什么事，缠着吉姆问这问那。一些在赖利馆子打拳的家伙，因为马丁不再来而高兴。他在图书馆又发现了一个宝藏。正如语法书给他指出了语法的骨架一样，那本书给他指出了诗歌的骨架。他开始学习诗的韵律、结构和形式，在这美好的形式之下探索那美为何而生，从何而来。他找到了另一本现代著作，把诗歌视为一门表现艺术，对此进行了详尽无遗的讨论，从最优秀的作品中举出丰富的例证。过去读小说时，他从未像现在读这些书一样兴趣盎然。他二十年都没有什么负担，也没用过的脑子，被成熟的欲求推动着，正以一种非同一般学生脑力的气概，紧抓着他读到的东西。

When he looked back now from his vantage-ground, the old world he had known, the world of land and sea and ships, of sailor-men and harpy-women, seemed a very small world; and yet it blended in with this new world and expanded. His mind made for unity, and he was surprised when at first he began to see points of contact between the two worlds. And he was ennobled, as well, by the loftiness of thought and beauty he found in the books. This led him to believe more firmly than ever that up above him, in society like Ruth and her family, all men and women thought these thoughts and lived them. Down below where he lived was the ignoble, and he wanted to purge himself of the ignoble that had soiled all his days, and to rise to that sublimated realm where dwelt the upper classes. All his childhood and youth had been troubled by a vague unrest; he had never known what he wanted, but he had wanted something that he had hunted vainly for until he met Ruth. And now his unrest had become sharp and painful, and he knew at last, clearly and definitely, that it was beauty, and intellect, and love that he must have.

现在，当他在优势地位回顾他所熟识的旧世界——陆地、海洋、船只、水手和悍妇的世界——似乎变成了一个很小的世界，但也融入了这个新世界，并且扩张开去。他的思想生来追求统一，当他第一次开始看到两个世界的联系点时，吃了一惊。他从书中发现了思想和美的崇高，这也使他变得高贵。这使他比之前更加坚信，在他之上的社会，像鲁思和她的家人一样，所有的男人和女人都抱着这样的思想生活。在他生活的社会之下，是卑贱的东西，他想要清除过去玷污他生活的那些卑贱的东西，把自己提升至上层阶级生活的高尚的领域。他的整个少年和青年时期都被一种模糊的不安所困扰；他从来不知道自己想要什么，却一直徒劳地追寻着什么，直到他遇到鲁思。现在，他的不安变得更加强烈而且让人痛苦。他终于清楚肯定地知道了他必须拥有的是美、智慧和爱。

During those several weeks he saw Ruth half a dozen times, and each time was an added inspiration. She helped him with his English, corrected his pronunciation, and started him on arithmetic. But their intercourse was not all devoted to elementary study. He had seen too much of life, and his mind was too matured, to be wholly content with fractions, cube root, parsing, and analysis; and there were times when their conversation turned on other themes—the last poetry he had read, the latest poet she had studied. And when she read aloud to him her favorite passages, he ascended to the topmost heaven of delight. Never, in all the women he had heard speak, had he heard a voice like hers. The least sound of it was a stimulus to his love, and he thrilled and throbbed with every word she uttered. It was the quality of it, the repose, and the musical modulation—the soft, rich, indefinable product of culture and a gentle soul. As he listened to her, there rang in the ears of his memory the harsh cries of barbarian women and of hags, and, in lesser degrees of harshness, the strident voices of working women and of the girls of his own class. Then the chemistry of vision would begin to work, and they would troop in review across his mind, each, by contrast, multiplying Ruth's glories. Then, too, his bliss was heightened by the knowledge that her mind was comprehending what she read and was quivering with appreciation of the beauty of the written thought. She read to him much from The Princess, and often he saw her eyes swimming with tears, so finely was her aesthetic nature strung. At such moments her own emotions elevated him till he was as a god, and, as he gazed at her and listened, he seemed gazing on the face of life and reading its deepest secrets. And then, becoming aware of the heights of exquisite sensibility he attained, he decided that this was love and that love was the greatest thing in the world. And in review would pass along the corridors of memory all previous thrills and burnings he had known,—the drunkenness of wine, the caresses of women, the rough play and give and take of physical contests,—and they seemed trivial and mean compared with this sublime ardor he now enjoyed.

在那几个星期中，他见过鲁思六次，每次见她，他都倍感鼓舞。她帮他学英语，纠正他的发音，教他开始学算术。但是他们的交流并非只限于基础学习。他见识过太多的世事，他的心智太成熟，以致不能完全满足于分数、立方根、语法分解和剖析，有时他们之间的交谈会转向别的话题——他最近读过的诗，她最近研究过的诗人。当她给他朗读她最喜欢的篇章时，他便飞升至极乐的九重天上去了。在他听过的所有女人说话的声音中，他从未听过有谁的声音像她的声音。她最轻微的声音，对他的爱情都是一个刺激，她说出来的每一个字都使他感到兴奋和激动。这是它的特质，平静悦耳的语调——这是文化与一个温柔的灵魂那柔和、富有又难以名状的产物。他听着她说话，耳边响起记忆中那些粗野的女人和丑妇们刺耳的叫嚷声，相对没那么刺耳的声音，便是那些劳动妇女和他那个阶层的姑娘尖利的嗓音。然后，幻觉开始发挥化学作用，她们像列队接受检阅一般穿过他的脑海，相比之下，每一个使鲁思越发光彩四射。同时，由于知道她的心正在领悟她所朗读的东西，并因领略书中的思想的美妙而颤栗，他便感到更加欣喜。她为他读了《公主》中的许多诗句，他常常看到她的眼里充满泪水，她那具有美感的天性被巧妙地拨动了。这时候，她自身的情感使他变得高尚，直至使他化为一位神明。当他注视着她、聆听着她的时候，他仿佛在注视着生命的面庞，解读着它最深奥的秘密。接着，他意识到他的情感达到了高雅之高度，断定这就是爱情，而这爱情是世上最伟大的东西。回顾过去，往日一切他所熟知的激动和灼热沿着记忆的走廊走过——酒后的醉态、女人的爱抚、粗野的玩笑和互进互让的比武——但这一切与他现在享受着的崇高的热情相比就显得卑微不足道了。

The situation was obscured to Ruth. She had never had any experiences of the heart. Her only experiences in such matters were of the books, where the facts of ordinary day were translated by fancy into a fairy realm of unreality; and she little knew that this rough sailor was creeping into her heart and storing there pent forces that would some day burst forth and surge through her in waves of fire. She did not know the actual fire of love. Her knowledge of love was purely theoretical, and she conceived of it as lambent flame, gentle as the fall of dew or the ripple of quiet water, and cool as the velvet-dark of summer nights. Her idea of love was more that of placid affection, serving the loved one softly in an atmosphere, flower-scented and dim-lighted, of ethereal calm. She did not dream of the volcanic convulsions of love, its scorching heat and sterile wastes of parched ashes. She knew neither her own potencies, nor the potencies of the world; and the deeps of life were to her seas of illusion. The conjugal affection of her father and mother constituted her ideal of love-affinity, and she looked forward some day to emerging, without shock or friction, into that same quiet sweetness of existence with a loved one.

这情形，鲁思是不了解的。她的内心从未有过任何体验。在这些方面她唯一的经验来自于书本，那里，日常生活的现实被幻想转移到不真实的仙境中去；她也不知道这个水手老粗正爬进她的心里，在那里积蓄力量，有一天波浪似的热情会喷薄而出并向她席卷而来。她不懂真实的爱情之火。她对爱情的了解是纯理论的，她把它设想成轻轻摇曳的火焰，轻柔有如露珠之滴落或静水之涟漪，清凉有如天鹅绒般幽暗的夏夜。她对爱情的观念，充其量只是一种温和的情感，在花香弥漫、灯光柔和、轻盈安谧的氛围中，温柔地侍奉着心爱的人。她做梦都不曾想到如火山喷发般震撼的爱情，它的灼热，以及只余灰烬的荒芜。她既不知道自己的能力，也不懂得世界的力量；生命的深渊对她来说只是幻想的海洋。她父母的夫妻之情，构成了她对爱情的理想，她期待有一天能和心爱的人去过同样的安静甜蜜的生活，没有不快和摩擦。

So it was that she looked upon Martin Eden as a novelty, a strange individual, and she identified with novelty and strangeness the effects he produced upon her. It was only natural. In similar ways she had experienced unusual feelings when she looked at wild animals in the menagerie, or when she witnessed a storm of wind, or shuddered at the bright-ribbed lightning. There was something cosmic in such things, and there was something cosmic in him. He came to her breathing of large airs and great spaces. The blaze of tropic suns was in his face, and in his swelling, resilient muscles was the primordial vigor of life. He was marred and scarred by that mysterious world of rough men and rougher deeds, the outposts of which began beyond her horizon. He was untamed, wild, and in secret ways her vanity was touched by the fact that he came so mildly to her hand. Likewise she was stirred by the common impulse to tame the wild thing. It was an unconscious impulse, and farthest from her thoughts that her desire was to re-thumb the clay of him into a likeness of her father's image, which image she believed to be the finest in the world. Nor was there any way, out of her inexperience, for her to know that the cosmic feel she caught of him was that most cosmic of things, love, which with equal power drew men and women together across the world, compelled stags to kill each other in the rutting season, and drove even the elements irresistibly to unite.

所以她把马丁·伊登看成是一种新奇事物，一个奇异的人，她也把他对她的影响同样看成是新奇与奇异。这再自然不过了。当她在动物园看到着那些野兽时，或是目睹一场大风暴时，或是因一道夺目的闪电而发抖时，她同样体验到了不寻常的感觉。在这些事物中，有着宇宙性的东西，在他身上也有这种宇宙性的东西。他来到她身边，他的气息蕴含着辽远的大气和广阔的空间。他的脸闪耀着赤道的强光，他突起的富有弹性的肌肉透出原始的生命力。在那个不可思议的世界，尽是粗鲁的人和更加粗鲁的行为，他受过伤害和恐吓。即使这个世界的边缘也出乎她的视野之外。他是野蛮不羁的，而他能如此温柔地握着她的手，这一事实暗地里触动了她的虚荣心。同样，这也激起她最平常的冲动，驯服那野生之物。这是一种下意识的冲动，远非她的想法，这冲动使她想要把他重新捏成像她父亲一样的人，她觉得那是世界上最出色的形象。由于缺乏经验，她也无从懂得她从他身上得到的那宇宙般浩瀚无边的感觉便是最浩瀚无边的东西——爱情，它以同等的力量，把全世界的男人女人撮合到一起，使牡鹿在发情期互相残杀，甚至驱使那些元素也无可抗拒地结合在一起。

His swift development was a source of surprise and interest. She detected unguessed finenesses in him that seemed to bud, day by day, like flowers in congenial soil. She read Browning aloud to him, and was often puzzled by the strange interpretations he gave to mooted passages. It was beyond her to realize that, out of his experience of men and women and life, his interpretations were far more frequently correct than hers. His conceptions seemed naive to her, though she was often fired by his daring flights of comprehension, whose orbit-path was so wide among the stars that she could not follow and could only sit and thrill to the impact of unguessed power. Then she played to him—no longer at him—and probed him with music that sank to depths beyond her plumb-line. His nature opened to music as a flower to the sun, and the transition was quick from his working-class rag-time and jingles to her classical display pieces that she knew nearly by heart. Yet he betrayed a democratic fondness for Wagner, and the "Tannhäuser" overture, when she had given him the clew to it, claimed him as nothing else she played. In an immediate way it personified his life. All his past was the Venusburg motif, while her he identified somehow with the "Pilgrim's Chorus" motif; and from the exalted state this elevated him to, he swept onward and upward into that vast shadow-realm of spirit-groping, where good and evil war eternally.

他的迅速进步是惊讶与兴趣的源泉。她在他身上发现了意想不到的优良品质，它们仿佛在发芽，一天又一天，就像花朵长在适宜的土壤中。她为他高声朗读布朗宁的诗句，当他对一些可供讨论的篇章作出新奇的解释时，她常常感到困惑。由于他对男人、女人和生活的经验，她不可能了解他的解释往往远比她的正确。他的观念在她看来似乎有点儿天真，尽管她也常常因他大胆的见解而激动。他的运行轨道在群星之间是如此广阔，她无法领会，只能坐在那里，对那意想不到的力量所产生的影响感到震颤不已。然后她为他弹奏音乐——不再敷衍他——而用音乐试探他，因为音乐能达到她的铅垂线都不能触及的深度。他的天性向着音乐，正如花朵向着太阳，从他劳动阶级的爵士乐和铿锵的音韵迅速转变为她烂熟于心的经典乐曲。然而他却对瓦格纳和“坦霍伊泽”前奏曲表现出大众化的喜爱。她给了他一点儿提示之后，就宣布不弹别的了。这音乐以一种直接的方式体现了他的生活。他的整个过去是“维纳斯堡”的主旨，而她呢，他认为有点儿和“朝圣者合唱曲”的主旨相同；他被这种音乐提升到崇高的境地，继续向上冲向精神探索的隐蔽王国，那里善与恶处于永恒的对抗状态。

Sometimes he questioned, and induced in her mind temporary doubts as to the correctness of her own definitions and conceptions of music. But her singing he did not question. It was too wholly her, and he sat always amazed at the divine melody of her pure soprano voice. And he could not help but contrast it with the weak pipings and shrill quaverings of factory girls, ill-nourished and untrained, and with the raucous shriekings from gin-cracked throats of the women of the seaport towns. She enjoyed singing and playing to him. In truth, it was the first time she had ever had a human soul to play with, and the plastic clay of him was a delight to mould; for she thought she was moulding it, and her intentions were good. Besides, it was pleasant to be with him. He did not repel her. That first repulsion had been really a fear of her undiscovered self, and the fear had gone to sleep. Though she did not know it, she had a feeling in him of proprietary right. Also, he had a tonic effect upon her. She was studying hard at the university, and it seemed to strengthen her to emerge from the dusty books and have the fresh sea-breeze of his personality blow upon her. Strength! Strength was what she needed, and he gave it to her in generous measure. To come into the same room with him, or to meet him at the door, was to take heart of life. And when he had gone, she would return to her books with a keener zest and fresh store of energy.

有时候，他表示异议，这使她暗自对自己对音乐的定义和观念的正确性也产生了一时的怀疑。但是他对她的歌唱无任何疑议。她的歌唱完全是她的，他总是坐在那儿，对她女高音的美妙旋律惊叹不已。他不禁拿它和工厂里的女工无力的尖声和刺耳的颤音相比较，她们营养不良又未经训练。他还拿它和海港城市里的女人嘶哑的喉咙里发出的叫喊声相比。她以为他弹唱为乐。事实上，这是她第一次“玩弄”人的灵魂，由于他的可塑性，塑造他可以说是一件乐事；因为她认为她是在塑造他的灵魂，她的意图是好的。另外，跟他在一起也很快乐。他并不使她厌烦。原先的反感事实上是她对于未被发现的自我的害怕，这种害怕早已销声匿迹。虽然她没有察觉，但是她对他已有了一种占有感。而且，他会使她精神振奋。她在大学刻苦学习，而从枯燥的书本中走出来，享受他的个性带来的清新海风拂面吹来，似乎使她活力倍增。活力！活力正是她所需要的，而他慷慨地给了她。和他来到同一个房间，或是到门口迎接他，都使她精神振奋。当他走后，她便以更强烈的兴味和新积蓄的力量，回到她的书本上去了。

She knew her Browning, but it had never sunk into her that it was an awkward thing to play with souls. As her interest in Martin increased, the remodelling of his life became a passion with her.

她懂得她的布朗宁，但是它从未使她领会，玩弄灵魂是一件烦人的事。当她对马丁的兴趣渐增的时候，改造他的生活便成为她的一个爱好。

"There is Mr. Butler," she said one afternoon, when grammar and arithmetic and poetry had been put aside.“有一位巴特勒先生，”一天下午，当语法、算术和诗歌都被撇到一边的时候她说，

"He had comparatively no advantages at first. His father had been a bank cashier, but he lingered for years, dying of consumption in Arizona, so that when he was dead, Mr. Butler, Charles Butler he was called, found himself alone in the world. His father had come from Australia, you know, and so he had no relatives in California. He went to work in a printing-office,—I have heard him tell of it many times,—and he got three dollars a week, at first. His income today is at least thirty thousand a year. How did he do it? He was honest, and faithful, and industrious, and economical. He denied himself the enjoyments that most boys indulge in. He made it a point to save so much every week, no matter what he had to do without in order to save it. Of course, he was soon earning more than three dollars a week, and as his wages increased he saved more and more.“最初，他的处境并不好。”他的父亲曾是个银行出纳员，但是病了几年，在亚利桑那州因肺痨奄奄一息，他过世之后，巴特勒先生，人叫他查尔斯·巴特勒，发现自己孤孤单单一个人活在这世上。你知道，他父亲是从澳大利亚来的，所以他在加利福尼亚没有什么亲戚。他进了一个印刷厂做工——我听他说过很多次——刚开始时，他一个星期只拿三块钱。他现在的收入，一年至少有三万元。他是怎么做到的呢？只因他为人老实忠厚而且勤奋节俭。大多数男孩子沉迷于享乐，而他却非常自制。他每周尽量攒下一些钱，缺了什么他都能将就，只要能攒钱。当然，很快，他就不是每周只拿三块钱了。他的工钱增加了，他攒下来的也越来越多。

"He worked in the daytime, and at night he went to night school. He had his eyes fixed always on the future. Later on he went to night high school. When he was only seventeen, he was earning excellent wages at setting type, but he was ambitious. He wanted a career, not a livelihood, and he was content to make immediate sacrifices for his ultimate again. He decided upon the law, and he entered father's office as an office boy—think of that!—and got only four dollars a week.“他白天做工，晚上还要去夜校。他总把眼光投向未来。之后他便上了夜校中学班。他只有十七岁的时候，便靠着排字的工作赚着优厚的工钱，但是他很有抱负。他要的是事业而不是谋生计，当前他愿意为了自己的最终目标再次牺牲。他最终决定选择法律，进了父亲的事务所，当起了勤杂工——想想看！——每周只拿四美元。

But he had learned how to be economical, and out of that four dollars he went on saving money.”

但是他学会了怎么节省，就这四块钱，他还是继续攒钱。”

She paused for breath, and to note how Martin was receiving it. His face was lighted up with interest in the youthful struggles of Mr. Butler; but there was a frown upon his face as well.

她停下来喘口气，并观察马丁的反应。因为对巴特勒先生充满活力的奋斗感兴趣，他的脸上闪着光，但是他脸上也有不悦的神色。

"I'd say they was pretty hard lines for a young fellow," he remarked. "Four dollars a week! How could he live on it? You can bet he didn't have any frills. Why, I pay five dollars a week for board now, an' there's nothin' excitin' about it, you can lay to that. He must have lived like a dog. The food he ate—”“我看，这对于一个年轻小伙子未免太糟了。”他说。“每周四块钱！他怎么靠它过活呢？你可以打赌，他连一点儿享受都没有。啊，我现在一星期的伙食费就得五块钱，还没有什么好吃的，你要知道。他的日子一定过得像条狗。他吃的东西——”

"He cooked for himself," she interrupted, "on a little kerosene stove."“他自己做饭，”她打断他，“用一只小煤油炉。”

"The food he ate must have been worse than what a sailor gets on the worst-feedin' deep-water ships, than which there ain't much that can be possibly worse."“他吃的东西一定比深海船上的水手最差的伙食还要糟，遭到不能再糟了。”

"But think of him now!" she cried enthusiastically.“但是想想他现在呀！”她激动地叫道。

"Think of what his income affords him. His early denials are paid for a thousand-fold.”“想想他现在的收入所给他的。他早年的清苦，已经得到了千倍的补偿。”

Martin looked at her sharply.

马丁目光锐利地看着她。

"There's one thing I'll bet you," he said, "and it is that Mr. Butler is nothin' gay-hearted now in his fat days. He fed himself like that for years an' years, on a boy's stomach, an' I bet his stomach's none too good now for it."“有一件事，我敢跟你打赌，”他说，“巴特勒先生现在虽然发了财，但是他并不快乐。一年又一年，他让自己少年人的肚子这么吃法，我敢打赌这肚子现在肯定不行了。”

Her eyes dropped before his searching gaze.

在他锐利的注视下，她的眼睛垂下了。

"I'll bet he's got dyspepsia right now!"Martin challenged.“我敢打赌，他现在一定消化不良！”马丁挑衅地说。

"Yes, he has," she confessed; "but—”“是的，确实是，”她承认道；“但是——”

"An' I bet," Martin dashed on, "that he's solemn an' serious as an old owl, an' doesn't care a rap for a good time, for all his thirty thousand a year. An' I'll bet he's not particularly joyful at seein' others have a good time. Ain't I right?"“我还打赌，”马丁抢着说，“他一定像只猫头鹰一样古板严肃，不苟言笑，尽管他一年赚三万。我还敢打赌，他看见别人玩得快活的时候他也不会怎么高兴的。我说得对吗？”

She nodded her head in agreement, and hastened to explain:—

她同意地点点头，赶紧解释：

"But he is not that type of man. By nature he is sober and serious. He always was that."“但是他不是那种人。他是天生稳重严肃的。他一直都那样。”

"You can bet he was," Martin proclaimed. "Three dollars a week, an' four dollars a week, an' a young boy cookin' for himself on an oil-burner an' layin' up money, workin' all day an' studyin' all night, just workin' an' never playin', never havin' a good time, an' never learnin' how to have a good time—of course his thirty thousand came along too late.”“你可以打赌他就是那样的。”马丁宣布。“三块钱一星期，四块钱一星期，一个年轻小伙子用煤油炉自己做饭，为了攒钱，整天做工，还整晚学习，从不玩乐，也没过过快活日子，也不懂得怎么快活——当然，他那三万块钱来得太晚了。”

His sympathetic imagination was flashing upon his inner sight all the thousands of details of the boy's existence and of his narrow spiritual development into a thirty-thousand-dollar-a-year man. With the swiftness and wide-reaching of multitudinous thought Charles Butler's whole life was telescoped upon his vision.

他易产生共鸣的想象，在他内心闪现出那个少年生存的千万种细节和他成为一个年收入三万元的人物的狭隘的精神发展过程。由于思想敏捷、广阔、多种多样，查尔斯·巴特勒的全部生涯已收入他的视野。

"Do you know," he added, "I feel sorry for Mr. Butler. He was too young to know better, but he robbed himself of life for the sake of thirty thousand a year that's clean wasted upon him. Why, thirty thousand, lump sum, wouldn't buy for him right now what ten cents he was layin' up would have bought him, when he was a kid, in the way of candy an' peanuts or a seat in nigger heaven."“你知道吗，”他又补充道，“我真替巴特勒先生难过。”他太年轻了不明事理，但他已经为那完全无用的一年三万块糟蹋了自己的生活。哎，总共三万块，现在买来的东西还不抵当时他攒下的十分钱买来的东西呢，当他还是个小孩的时候，这十分钱就是糖果和花生或是剧场最高楼座的一个座位。

It was just such uniqueness of points of view that startled Ruth. Not only were they new to her, and contrary to her own beliefs, but she always felt in them germs of truth that threatened to unseat or modify her own convictions. Had she been fourteen instead of twenty-four, she might have been changed by them; but she was twenty-four, conservative by nature and upbringing, and already crystallized into the cranny of life where she had been born and formed. It was true, his bizarre judgments troubled her in the moments they were uttered, but she ascribed them to his novelty of type and strangeness of living, and they were soon forgotten. Nevertheless, while she disapproved of them, the strength of their utterance, and the flashing of eyes and earnestness of face that accompanied them, always thrilled her and drew her toward him. She would never have guessed that this man who had come from beyond her horizon, was, in such moments, flashing on beyond her horizon with wider and deeper concepts. Her own limits were the limits of her horizon; but limited minds can recognize limitations only in others. And so she felt that her outlook was very wide indeed, and that where his conflicted with hers marked his limitations; and she dreamed of helping him to see as she saw, of widening his horizon until it was identified with hers.

让鲁思大吃一惊的便是他这独一无二的见解。这些观点对她来说不仅新奇，而且跟她的想法截然相反，但是她总是觉得它们中间有真理的胚芽，大有可能挤开并改变她的信念。若是她还是十四岁而不是二十四岁，她可能已经被它们改变了；但是她确实是二十四岁，天性和所受教养都是保守的，而且早已在她出生和成长的生活的裂缝中成形了。不错，他异乎寻常的看法在刚说出来时让她迷惑，但是她把它们归因于他这一类人的新奇和其生活方式的奇异，很快便被忘记了。然而，当她不赞同这些观点时，伴随它们而来的是他说话时的力量，眼睛闪耀的光芒，还有认真的表情，这些总是令她激动，将她向他拉近。她绝不曾想到，这个来自她视野之外的人，在此时，正怀着更广博、更高深的见解在她的视野之外闪现。她的局限性在于她的视野的有限；但是有限的思维只能看到别人的局限性。所以她认为自己的眼界实在是很广阔，他与她的观点发生冲突的地方，正表明了他的局限性。于是，她便梦想着帮助他去看她所看到的，开阔他的眼界，直到他跟她的成为一个样子的。

"But I have not finished my story," she said. "He worked, so father says, as no other office boy he ever had. Mr. Butler was always eager to work. He never was late, and he was usually at the office a few minutes before his regular time. And yet he saved his time. Every spare moment was devoted to study. He studied book-keeping and type-writing, and he paid for lessons in shorthand by dictating at night to a court reporter who needed practice. He quickly became a clerk, and he made himself invaluable. Father appreciated him and saw that he was bound to rise. It was on father's suggestion that he went to law college. He became a lawyer, and hardly was he back in the office when father took him in as junior partner. He is a great man. He refused the United States Senate several times, and father says he could become a justice of the Supreme Court any time a vacancy occurs, if he wants to. Such a life is an inspiration to all of us. It shows us that a man with will may rise superior to his environment."“但是我的故事还没讲完呢，”她说，“父亲说，对于工作，其他勤杂工没有一个能比得上他。巴特勒先生总是热心于工作。他从不迟到，而且还经常比规定的时间早几分钟到事务所。然而他还是省出了时间。一有空闲他就专心于学习。他学习簿记和打字，晚上还给一个需要练习的法庭记者做听写练习，从而赚钱学速记。他很快便成了一名书记员，使自己成了举足轻重的人物。父亲很赏识他，看出他一定会出人头地。按照父亲的建议，他进了法学院。他成了一名律师，父亲请他做新的合伙人时，他就难得回事务所了。他是个伟大的人。他几次拒绝过美国参议院，父亲说，只要他想做，一旦有空缺，他就可以做最高法院的法官。这样的生活对我们来说是一种鼓舞。这说明一个有志气的人是可以超越他的环境而成长的。”

"He is a great man," Martin said sincerely.“他真是了不起。”马丁由衷地说道。

But it seemed to him there was something in the recital that jarred upon his sense of beauty and life. He could not find an adequate motive in Mr. Butler's life of pinching and privation. Had he done it for love of a woman, or for attainment of beauty, Martin would have understood. God's own mad lover should do anything for the kiss, but not for thirty thousand dollars a year. He was dissatisfied with Mr. Butler's career. There was something paltry about it, after all. Thirty thousand a year was all right, but dyspepsia and inability to be humanly happy robbed such princely income of all its value.

但是他好像觉得，这故事里面有点什么跟他对美和生活的感觉不一致。对于巴特勒先生过的那种节俭贫寒的生活，他找不出一个合适的动机。假如他是为了爱一个女人，或是为了追求美，马丁倒是可以理解。虔诚的恋人应该为一吻而做任何事，但却不是为了一年赚三万块。他不满意巴特勒先生的事业。毕竟，其中有些东西不可取。三万块一年是不错，但是消化不良和丧失常人的快乐，已经把这一笔可观的收入的价值全部抵消了。

Much of this he strove to express to Ruth, and shocked her and made it clear that more remodelling was necessary. Hers was that common insularity of mind that makes human creatures believe that their color, creed, and politics are best and right and that other human creatures scattered over the world are less fortunately placed than they. It was the same insularity of mind that made the ancient Jew thank God he was not born a woman, and sent the modern missionary god-substituting to the ends of the earth; and it made Ruth desire to shape this man from other crannies of life into the likeness of the men who lived in her particular cranny of life.

他尽力向鲁思表达了这些想法，这令她震惊，她明白有必要对他进行进一步改造。这就是普遍存在的心理偏狭，它使人们相信他们自己的肤色、信仰和政治是最好最正确的，而分散在世界各地的其他人则不如他们幸运。这同样的偏狭心理使古代的犹太人因自己没有生来就是女人而感谢上帝，使传教士作为上帝的替代者到天涯海角去，使鲁思想要把一个出身于其他生活角落的人塑造成与她生活的特殊角落里的男人们一模一样。

CHAPTER IX

第九章

Back from sea Martin Eden came, homing for California with a lover's desire. His store of money exhausted, he had shipped before the mast on the treasure-hunting schooner; and the Solomon Islands, after eight months of failure to find treasure, had witnessed the breaking up of the expedition. The men had been paid off in Australia, and Martin had immediately shipped on a deep-water vessel for San Francisco. Not alone had those eight months earned him enough money to stay on land for many weeks, but they had enabled him to do a great deal of studying and reading.

从海上回来，马丁·伊登怀着恋人的热望回到加利福尼亚。他的积蓄已经用光，所以他到那艘寻宝船上当水手；八个月后寻宝失败，所罗门群岛见证了这支探险队的解体。那些船员在澳洲领了工钱就被解散了，马丁很快就搭上一艘到旧金山的深海油轮。这八个月不仅让他赚足了在陆地上呆几个星期的钱，而且还让他能够学习和阅读大量东西。

His was the student's mind, and behind his ability to learn was the indomitability of his nature and his love for Ruth. The grammar he had taken along he went through again and again until his unjaded brain had mastered it. He noticed the bad grammar used by his shipmates, and made a point of mentally correcting and reconstructing their crudities of speech. To his great joy he discovered that his ear was becoming sensitive and that he was developing grammatical nerves. A double negative jarred him like a discord, and often, from lack of practice, it was from his own lips that the jar came. His tongue refused to learn new tricks in a day.

他有学者的精神，在学习能力的背后是他不屈不挠的性格和对鲁思的爱。他把语法书带在身边，从头到尾读了一遍又一遍，直到他不知疲倦的脑子完全掌握了它。他注意到同船水手糟糕的语法，便决定在心里纠正并重建他们粗鄙的语言。令他喜出望外的是，他发现他的耳朵变得灵敏了，他的语法神经也在逐渐成形。双重否定在他听来像不和谐音一样刺耳，由于练习得不够，他的嘴里也经常发出这种刺耳的声音。他的舌头可不能在一天之内就掌握新的技巧。

After he had been through the grammar repeatedly, he took up the dictionary and added twenty words a day to his vocabulary. He found that this was no light task, and at wheel or lookout he steadily went over and over his lengthening list of pronunciations and definitions, while he invariably memorized himself to sleep. "Never did anything," "if I were," and "those things," were phrases, with many variations, that he repeated under his breath in order to accustom his tongue to the language spoken by Ruth. "And" and "ing," with the "d" and "g" pronounced emphatically, he went over thousands of times; and to his surprise he noticed that he was beginning to speak cleaner and more correct English than the officers themselves and the gentleman-adventurers in the cabin who had financed the expedition.

他反复通读过语法书之后，就拿起字典，每天给自己的词汇表增加二十个词。他发现这并不是个轻松的任务，每当掌舵或瞭望时，他都会一遍遍地复习那逐渐加长的发音表和定义表，但他总是记着记着就昏昏欲睡了。“从没做过什么”，“假如我是”，“那些事情”，这些短语富于变化，他总是低声重复着，为的是让自己的舌头习惯鲁思所说的语言。”And"和"ing"，着重读"d"和"g"，他练习了千万遍；让他惊讶的是，他已开始能说更清楚正确的英语了，比那些官员自己和船舱里那些出钱赞助这次远征的有身份的探险家说得还清楚准确。

The captain was a fishy-eyed Norwegian who somehow had fallen into possession of a complete Shakespeare, which he never read, and Martin had washed his clothes for him and in return been permitted access to the precious volumes. For a time, so steeped was he in the plays and in the many favorite passages that impressed themselves almost without effort on his brain, that all the world seemed to shape itself into forms of Elizabethan tragedy or comedy and his very thoughts were in blank verse. It trained his ear and gave him a fine appreciation for noble English; withal it introduced into his mind much that was archaic and obsolete.

船长是一个目光呆滞的挪威人，不知怎么偶然得到一部莎士比亚全集，却从来没有看过，马丁为他洗衣服，作为回报，他允许马丁借阅那些宝贵的书卷。有一段时间，他如此沉醉于那些戏剧和他最爱的篇章之中，它们毫不费力就印在了他的脑海里，整个世界似乎都成了伊丽莎白一世时代的的悲剧和喜剧，而他的思想则正好表现在无韵诗里。这训练了他的耳朵，使他能很好地领略高雅的英语；同时，也把许多古老过时的东西灌输给他。

The eight months had been well spent, and, in addition to what he had learned of right speaking and high thinking, he had learned much of himself. Along with his humbleness because he knew so little, there arose a conviction of power. He felt a sharp gradation between himself and his shipmates, and was wise enough to realize that the difference lay in potentiality rather than achievement. What he could do,—they could do; but within him he felt a confused ferment working that told him there was more in him than he had done. He was tortured by the exquisite beauty of the world, and wished that Ruth were there to share it with him. He decided that he would describe to her many of the bits of South Sea beauty. The creative spirit in him flamed up at the thought and urged that he recreate this beauty for a wider audience than Ruth. And then, in splendor and glory, came the great idea. He would write. He would be one of the eyes through which the world saw, one of the ears through which it heard, one of the hearts through which it felt. He would write—everything—poetry and prose, fiction and description, and plays like Shakespeare. There was career and the way to win to Ruth. The men of literature were the world's giants, and he conceived them to be far finer than the Mr. Butlers who earned thirty thousand a year and could be Supreme Court justices if they wanted to.

这八个月过得很充实，除了学到了该怎么正确地说话和有远见地思考，他还更多地了解了自己。因为知道自己懂得的很少，他很谦卑，而与之俱存的是他对自己能力的确信。他感觉到自己和同船水手之间有明显的级别之差，他也十分明智地意识到这种差异更在于潜在的能力，而非已达到的成就。他能做的他们也能做；但他觉得内心有种混乱的骚动在运动着，它告诉他，他的能力不仅止于他已做的事。他为世上那绝妙的美丽所苦恼，真希望鲁思在场，可以和他一起分享。他决定要向鲁思描绘南太平洋的种种美景。这一想法燃起了他的创作精神，而且促使他为更广大的受众，而不只鲁思，再现那些美景。于是，又壮丽又辉煌，一个伟大的想法产生了。他要写作。他要成为一个世界由他而看的眼睛，由他而听的耳朵，由他而感的心灵。他要写——什么都行——诗歌和散文，小说和记述文，还有像莎士比亚戏剧那样的戏剧。那便是事业和赢得鲁思的道路。文学家是世界的巨人，他以为他们远比那些一年赚三万块，愿意的话可以比做高等法院法官的巴特勒先生们优秀。

Once the idea had germinated, it mastered him, and the return voyage to San Francisco was like a dream. He was drunken with unguessed power and felt that he could do anything. In the midst of the great and lonely sea he gained perspective. Clearly, and for the first lime, he saw Ruth and her world. It was all visualized in his mind as a concrete thing which he could take up in his two hands and turn around and about and examine. There was much that was dim and nebulous in that world, but he saw it as a whole and not in detail, and he saw, also, the way to master it. To write! The thought was fire in him. He would begin as soon as he got back. The first thing he would do would be to describe the voyage of the treasure-hunters. He would sell it to some San Francisco newspaper. He would not tell Ruth anything about it, and she would be surprised and pleased when she saw his name in print. While he wrote, he could go on studying. There were twenty-four hours in each day. He was invincible. He knew how to work, and the citadels would go down before him. He would not have to go to sea again—as a sailor; and for the instant he caught a vision of a steam yacht. There were other writers who possessed steam yachts. Of course, he cautioned himself, it would be slow succeeding at first, and for a time he would be content to earn enough money by his writing to enable him to go on studying. And then, after some time,—a very indeterminate time,—when he had learned and prepared himself, he would write the great things and his name would be on all men's lips. But greater than that, infinitely greater and greatest of all, he would have proved himself worthy of Ruth. Fame was all very well, but it was for Ruth that his splendid dream arose. He was not a fame-monger, but merely one of God's mad lovers.

这一想法一经萌芽，便左右着他，到旧金山的归程就像一场梦。他被一种莫名的力量所吸引着，觉得他什么事都做得了。在浩瀚而孤寂的大海之中他有了透视能力。他第一次清晰地看到了鲁思和她的世界。所有一切都显现在他脑子里，就像一件实实在在的东西，他可以用双手拿起来，转过来转过去，仔细查看。在那个世界中，很多还是模糊的，一片朦胧的，但是他把它看成一个整体，而不是从细节，他还看到了控制它的方法。写作！这个想法在他心中像一团火。他一回去就要开始。他第一个要写的会是描述寻宝人的航程。他要把它卖给旧金山的某家报纸。他要对鲁思只字不提，等她看到他的名字被印出来时，她会多么惊喜。写作的同时他可以继续学习。每天有二十四小时呢。他是所向无敌的。他知道怎样工作，那些堡垒会在他面前陷落。他不用再出海去——作为一名水手；那一刻，他仿佛看到了一艘蒸汽游艇。其他作家是有蒸汽游艇的。当然，他警告自己，开始时会慢慢地进行，一段时间内，他只能满足于自己的写作挣到足够的钱以继续学习。之后，过一段时间——一段尚不知长短的时间——等他学有所成的时候，他会写出伟大的作品，到时候他的名字就会挂在人们的嘴边。但是比这还要伟大的，极其伟大的，并且最伟大的，便是要证明自己配得上鲁思。名誉固然好，但是他辉煌的梦想是因为鲁思而生的。他并不是追名逐利的人，而不过只是一个虔诚的恋人罢了。

Arrived in Oakland, with his snug pay-day in his pocket, he took up his old room at Bernard Higginbotham's and set to work. He did not even let Ruth know he was back. He would go and see her when he finished the article on the treasure-hunters. It was not so difficult to abstain from seeing her, because of the violent heat of creative fever that burned in him. Besides, the very article he was writing would bring her nearer to him. He did not know how long an article he should write, but he counted the words in a double-page article in the Sunday supplement of the San Francisco Examiner, and guided himself by that. Three days, at white heat, completed his narrative; but when he had copied it carefully, in a large scrawl that was easy to read, he learned from a rhetoric he picked up in the library that there were such things as paragraphs and quotation marks. He had never thought of such things before; and he promptly set to work writing the article over, referring continually to the pages of the rhetoric and learning more in a day about composition than the average schoolboy in a year. When he had copied the article a second time and rolled it up carefully, he read in a newspaper an item on hints to beginners, and discovered the iron law that manuscripts should never be rolled and that they should be written on one side of the paper. He had violated the law on both counts. Also, he learned from the item that first-class papers paid a minimum of ten dollars a column. So, while he copied the manuscript a third time, he consoled himself by multiplying ten columns by ten dollars. The product was always the same, one hundred dollars, and he decided that that was better than seafaring. If it hadn't been for his blunders, he would have finished the article in three days. One hundred dollars in three days! It would have taken him three months and longer on the sea to earn a similar amount. A man was a fool to go to sea when he could write, he concluded, though the money in itself meant nothing to him. Its value was in the liberty it would get him, the presentable garments it would buy him, all of which would bring him nearer, swiftly nearer, to the slender, pale girl who had turned his life back upon itself and given him inspiration.

到了奥克兰，口袋里装着一笔数目可观的工钱，他又住在伯纳德·希金博特姆那里的老房间里，开始工作了。他甚至没让鲁思知道自己回来了。等他写完寻宝人的文章之后会去看她的。由于他心里正燃烧着那股创作的热情，克制着不去看她，也不是很难。另外，他正写着的文章会使她更靠近他。他不知道该写多长的文章，但是在《旧金山考察报》周日增刊上，他数了数一篇占了两版的文章的字数，便用它来做标准。三天，他在极度兴奋的状态中完成了叙述；但他用易看的大而拙劣的字体仔细地抄写好之后，在图书馆借来的一本修辞书上了解到还有段落和引号之类的东西。之前他从没想到过这些东西，便立刻动手重新写，不断地查阅那本修辞书，一天之内学到很多关于写作的知识，比普通学生一年学到的还要多。当他第二次抄写好文章，仔细地把它卷起来之后，又在报纸上读到一则告新手的注意事项，发现一条铁律，那就是手稿不要卷起来而且稿纸不能两面写。这两项他都违背了。他还从这则注意事项中了解到，一流的报纸一个专栏至少付十美元。所以，当他第三次抄写稿子的时候，他便拿十元乘十栏来安慰自己。结果总是一样，一百块，他断定这比出海好多了。如果他没有犯错，他三天就能完成这篇文章。三天一百块！在海上他得花至少三个月的时间才能赚到同样的数目。他得出结论，一个人如果能写作的话还去出海，那他就是傻子，尽管钱对他来说毫无意义。钱的价值就在于它能使他获得自由，能给他买来像样的衣服，所有这一切，可以让他更接近、迅速地接近那修长的、苍白的、曾令他的生活翻转、给了他鼓舞的姑娘。

He mailed the manuscript in a flat envelope, and addressed it to the editor of the San Francisco Examiner. He had an idea that anything accepted by a paper was published immediately, and as he had sent the manuscript in on Friday he expected it to come out on the following Sunday. He conceived that it would be fine to let that event apprise Ruth of his return. Then, Sunday afternoon, he would call and see her. In the meantime he was occupied by another idea, which he prided himself upon as being a particularly sane, careful, and modest idea. He would write an adventure story for boys and sell it to The Youth's Companion. He went to the free reading-room and looked through the files of The Youth's Companion. Serial stories, he found, were usually published in that weekly in five instalments of about three thousand words each. He discovered several serials that ran to seven instalments, and decided to write one of that length.

他用一个平整的信封把手稿寄给了《旧金山考察报》的编辑。他以为任何稿件被报馆接收，就会马上刊登，周五寄出的稿子，他盼望着下周日就能登出来。他想象着让这桩事来通知鲁思他的归来该多好。然后，周日下午，他就能给她打电话并且去看她了。与此同时，他心里被另一个想法占据着，他为这样一个聪明审慎而并不过分的想法而自豪。他要为孩子们写一个探险故事，然后卖给《青年之友》。他去了公共阅览室，浏览了《青年之友》。他发现，连载小说在这本周刊上通常分五期，每期三千字发表的。他还发现有几篇连载是分七期的，他决定写这么长的一篇。

He had been on a whaling voyage in the Arctic, once—a voyage that was to have been for three years and which had terminated in shipwreck at the end of six months. While his imagination was fanciful, even fantastic at times, he had a basic love of reality that compelled him to write about the things he knew. He knew whaling, and out of the real materials of his knowledge he proceeded to manufacture the fictitious adventures of the two boys he intended to use as joint heroes. It was easy work, he decided on Saturday evening. He had completed on that day the first instalment of three thousand words—much to the amusement of Jim, and to the open derision of Mr. Higginbotham, who sneered throughout meal-time at the "litery" person they had discovered in the family.

他曾在北极地区做过捕鲸的航海员，那一次航行，预计是要三年的，结果六个月后因为船舶失事，航行便告结束。尽管他的想象奇异，有时甚至别出心裁，但是他对于现实有一种根深蒂固的爱，驱使他去写自己所熟知的东西。他懂得捕鲸，利用他所熟悉的材料，进而虚构了两个男孩——都是是主人公——的冒险故事。这是很容易的工作，他星期六晚上就下定了决心。当天他写成了第一期的三千字——这使吉姆很开心，却成了希金博特姆公开嘲笑的对象，吃饭时，他一直在奚落这位在他们家发现的“文”人。

Martin contented himself by picturing his brother-in-law's surprise on Sunday morning when he opened his Examiner and saw the article on the treasure-hunters. Early that morning he was out himself to the front door, nervously racing through the many-sheeted newspaper. He went through it a second time, very carefully, then folded it up and left it where he had found it. He was glad he had not told any one about his article. On second thought he concluded that he had been wrong about the speed with which things found their way into newspaper columns. Besides, there had not been any news value in his article, and most likely the editor would write to him about it first.

马丁想象着姐夫星期天早上打开《观察家》看到寻宝者的文章时惊讶的神情，以此来安慰自己。那天一大早他就来到前门，紧张地把那份版面众多的报纸翻了一遍。他再一次仔细地翻过一遍，然后把它叠好放回原处。他庆幸自己没把文章的事告诉过任何人。他又一想，推断他是猜错了报纸专栏发表的速度。另外，他这篇文章也没有什么新闻价值，很可能编者会先给他回一封信的。

After breakfast he went on with his serial. The words flowed from his pen, though he broke off from the writing frequently to look up definitions in the dictionary or to refer to the rhetoric. He often read or re-read a chapter at a time, during such pauses; and he consoled himself that while he was not writing the great things he felt to be in him, he was learning composition, at any rate, and training himself to shape up and express his thoughts. He toiled on till dark, when he went out to the reading-room and explored magazines and weeklies until the place closed at ten o'clock. This was his programme for a week. Each day he did three thousand words, and each evening he puzzled his way through the magazines, taking note of the stories, articles, and poems that editors saw fit to publish. One thing was certain: What these multitudinous writers did he could do, and only give him time and he would do what they could not do. He was cheered to read in Book News, in a paragraph on the payment of magazine writers, not that Rudyard Kipling received a dollar per word, but that the minimum rate paid by first-class magazines was two cents a word. The Youth Companion was certainly first class, and at that rate the three thousand words he A110had written that day would bring him sixty dollars—two months' wages on the sea!

早饭后，他继续写他的小说连载。字句从他笔下滔滔流出，尽管他时常停下来翻开字典查阅定义，或者参考一下修辞书。在中间停顿时，每次他都会读一章，并且一读再读；令他聊以自慰的是，虽然他没写他心中最伟大的事情，但是他在学习写作，至少，训练自己去形成并表达自己的思想。他笔耕不辍直至黄昏，又出去到阅览室查阅杂志和周刊，直到十点钟那里关门。这便是他一周的日程。每天写三千字，每晚琢磨着杂志，记下编者认为适合发表的故事、文章和诗歌。有一件事是肯定的：这些作家写的他也会写，只要给他时间，他能写他们不能写的。他看到《书刊消息》有一段提到杂志作者的报酬，很是振奋，不是因为拉迪亚德·基普林一个字得一块报酬，而是因为一流杂志的最低报酬率是一个字两分。《青年之友》肯定是一流的，按那样的比率，他当天写就的那三千字可以给他带来六十块钱——相当于出海两个月的工钱。

On Friday night he finished the serial, twenty-one thousand words long. At two cents a word, he calculated, that would bring him four hundred and twenty dollars. Not a bad week's work. It was more money than he had ever possessed at one time. He did not know how he could spend it all. He had tapped a gold mine. Where this came from he could always get more. He planned to buy some more clothes, to subscribe to many magazines, and to buy dozens of reference books that at present he was compelled to go to the library to consult. And still there was a large portion of the four hundred and twenty dollars unspent. This worried him until the thought came to him of hiring a servant for Gertrude and of buying a bicycle for Marion.

周五晚上他写完了连载小说，有两万一千字那么长。按两分钱一个字来算，他计算会拿四百二十块钱。这一周的工作还真不错。这比他以前哪次得到的收入都高。他不知道怎么花掉呢。他已挖到金矿了。从这金矿里他能一直挖到更多。他打算多买些衣服，订阅许多杂志，再买几十本参考书，现在他只得到图书馆去查阅。那四百二十块钱还有一大部分没花完呢。这使他很烦恼，直到后来他想到要给格特鲁德雇一个佣人，给马里恩买一辆自行车。

He mailed the bulky manuscript to The Youth's Companion, and on Saturday afternoon, after having planned an article on pearl-diving, he went to see Ruth. He had telephoned, and she went herself to greet him at the door. The old familiar blaze of health rushed out from him and struck her like a blow. It seemed to enter into her body and course through her veins in a liquid glow, and to set her quivering with its imparted strength. He flushed warmly as he took her hand and looked into her blue eyes, but the fresh bronze of eight months of sun hid the flush, though it did not protect the neck from the gnawing chafe of the stiff collar. She noted the red line of it with amusement which quickly vanished as she glanced at his clothes. They really fitted him,—it was his first made-to-order suit,—and he seemed slimmer and better modelled. In addition, his cloth cap had been replaced by a soft hat, which she commanded him to put on and then complimented him on his appearance. She did not remember when she had felt so happy. This change in him was her handiwork, and she was proud of it and fired with ambition further to help him.

他把厚重的稿子寄给了《青年之友》，周六下午，构思好一篇关于采珠的文章之后，他去见鲁思了。他事先打过电话，她亲自到门口去迎接他。往日熟悉健康的火焰从他体内迸发出来，像一阵风一样朝她席卷而来。这仿佛进入了她的身体，像一道热流流过她的血管，以它可传递的力量使她颤栗。他握着她的手，看着她的蓝眼睛时，脸红了，但是八个月来被太阳晒成的古铜色盖住了他的一脸羞红，却保护不了脖子，衣服的硬领擦得脖子很疼。她注意到了那条红线，觉得好笑，但一转眼瞟到他的衣服，这种玩笑的心情很快消失了。这衣服确实合身——这是他第一套定做的衣服——他似乎给装扮得更修长更挺拔了。而且，他布制的便帽已经换成了一顶呢帽，她让他戴上，接着称赞他的外貌。她不记得自己什么时候曾如此快乐过。他的这种变化是她的杰作，她感到自豪，并激起了进一步帮助他的欲望。

But the most radical change of all, and the one that pleased her most, was the change in his speech. Not only did he speak more correctly, but he spoke more easily, and there were many new words in his vocabulary. When he grew excited or enthusiastic, however, he dropped back into the old slurring and the dropping of final consonants. Also, there was an awkward hesitancy, at times, as he essayed the new words he had learned. On the other hand, along with his ease of expression, he displayed a lightness and facetiousness of thought that delighted her. It was his old spirit of humor and badinage that had made him a favorite in his own class, but which he had hitherto been unable to use in her presence through lack of words and training. He was just beginning to orientate himself and to feel that he was not wholly an intruder. But he was very tentative, fastidiously so, letting Ruth set the pace of sprightliness and fancy, keeping up with her but never daring to go beyond her.

但是最彻底的变化，也是最让她高兴的变化，便是他的谈吐变化。他不但说得更纯正，而且更流利，在他的词汇里还多了很多新词。但当他激动万分、满腔热情的时候，又回复旧时的含糊不清和读漏尾音。在尝试用新学的词语时，他偶尔会迟疑不决。另一方面，他不但表达流畅，还表现出思想轻松诙谐，这使她欣喜。他惯有的幽默和诙谐使他在自己的圈子里备受喜爱，但是由于自己词汇贫乏且缺少训练，迄今为止他没有在她面前表现出来。他刚刚开始确定自己的方向，感觉自己并非完全是一个侵入者。但是他犹豫不决，非常苛求地让鲁思迈出愉快而异想天开的步调，他跟着她的步调，不敢有任何超越。

He told her of what he had been doing, and of his plan to write for a livelihood and of going on with his studies. But he was disappointed at her lack of approval. She did not think much of his plan.

他告诉她自己做了些什么事情，以及自己要靠写作谋生的计划，并打算继续学习。但没有得到她的赞同，他很失望。她不以他的计划为然。

"You see," she said frankly, "writing must be a trade, like anything else. Not that I know anything about it, of course. I only bring common judgment to bear. You couldn't hope to be a blacksmith without spending three years at learning the trade—or is it five years! Now writers are so much better paid than blacksmiths that there must be ever so many more men who would like to write, who—try to write.”“你知道，”她坦诚地说，“写作应当是一种行业，像其他工作一样。当然，这方面我什么也不懂。我不过凭一般的看法来说说罢了。不花三年或五年的时间学手艺，你就别想当一名铁匠。现在作家们赚的钱比铁匠们多得多，所以一定有很多人想要写作，尽力去写。”

"But then, may not I be peculiarly constituted to write?" he queried, secretly exulting at the language he had used, his swift imagination throwing the whole scene and atmosphere upon a vast screen along with a thousand other scenes from his life—scenes that were rough and raw, gross and bestial.“可是，我就不会是天生就注定要写作的吗？”他问道，心里为自己所用的语言窃喜。他的突发奇想把全部场景和氛围投射到一张巨大的银幕上，伴随着许多过去生活的粗野原始、野蛮卑劣的场景。

The whole composite vision was achieved with the speed of light, producing no pause in the conversation, nor interrupting his calm train of thought.

这整个混合的幻像是以光速形成的，既没使谈话中断，也没有打断他的思路。

On the screen of his imagination he saw himself and this sweet and beautiful girl, facing each other and conversing in good English, in a room of books and paintings and tone and culture, and all illuminated by a bright light of steadfast brilliance;while ranged about and fading away to the remote edges of the screen were antithetical scenes, each scene a picture, and he the onlooker, free to look at will upon what he wished. He saw these other scenes through drifting vapors and swirls of sullen fog dissolving before shafts of red and garish light. He saw cowboys at the bar, drinking fierce whiskey, the air filled with obscenity and ribald language, and he saw himself with them drinking and cursing with the wildest, or sitting at table with them, under smoking kerosene lamps, while the chips clicked and clattered and the cards were dealt around. He saw himself, stripped to the waist, with naked fists, fighting his great fight with Liverpool Red in the forecastle of the Susquehanna;and he saw the bloody deck of the John Rogers, that gray morning of attempted mutiny, the mate kicking in death-throes on the main-hatch, the revolver in the old man's hand spitting fire and smoke, the men with passion-wrenched faces, of brutes screaming vile blasphemies and falling about him—and then he returned to the central scene, calm and clean in the steadfast light, where Ruth sat and talked with him amid books and paintings; and he saw the grand piano upon which she would later play to him; and he heard the echoes of his own selected and correct words, "But then, may I not be peculiarly constituted to write?"

在他想象的银幕上，他看到自己和这个甜美的姑娘，面对面用优美的英语交谈，在一个尽是书与画，音乐与文化的房间里，一切都被一道稳定的明光照射着；而出现在银幕遥远的边缘又逐渐消逝的则是一些相反的景象，每一个景象都是一幅画，作为旁观者的他，随意想看到什么便看到什么。他透过漂浮的水汽和缭绕的浓雾，看到这些景象在耀眼的红色光束前消失。他看到牛仔们在酒吧里，喝着烈性的威士忌，空气中充斥着威胁下流的话语，他看见自己和他们一起喝酒，用最粗野的话咒骂着，或是和他们坐在桌旁，在冒着烟的煤油灯下玩着纸牌，筹码哗啦作响。他看见自己，裸着上身，赤手空拳，在萨斯奎汉纳号的水手舱里跟“利物浦老红”搏斗。他还看见那个阴沉的清晨，在那场谋划好的暴动中，约翰·罗杰斯号血染的甲板，主舱口大副在死亡线上挣扎着，老头子手上的左轮手枪冒着烟喷着火，人们因愤怒而扭曲的脸，野兽般的人们尖声喊着下流的粗话，在他周围倒了下去——接着他又回到中央的场面，光线稳定，平静、干净。鲁思跟他坐着聊天，被书籍和绘画围在中心。他也看到了那架大钢琴。后来鲁思为他弹奏。他听见了自己选用的正确词语在回响：“可是，我就不会是天生就注定要写作的吗？”

"But no matter how peculiarly constituted a man may be for blacksmithing," she was laughing, "I never heard of one becoming a blacksmith without first serving his apprenticeship."“可是，不管一个人如何天生注定要打铁，”鲁思笑了，“我从未听说有人不先当学徒就能当铁匠的。”

"What would you advise?" he asked. "And don't forget that I feel in me this capacity to write—I can't explain it; I just know that it is in me.""You must get a thorough education," was the answer, "whether or not you ultimately become a writer. This education is indispensable for whatever career you select, and it must not be slipshod or sketchy. You should go to high school."“那你看我该怎么办？”他问，“别忘了，我觉得我有这种写作能力——我解释不清楚，我只知道我有这能力。”“你得接受完整的教育，”她回答，“无论你最终是否当作家，无论你选什么职业，这种教育必不可少，而且不能马虎粗糙。你应当上中学。”

"Yes—” he began; but she interrupted with an afterthought:—"Of course, you could go on with your writing, too."“是的——”他正要说，她又想了想，打断了他的话。“当然，你也可以继续写作。”

"I would have to," he said grimly.“我是非写作不可的，”他狠狠地说，

"Why?"She looked at him, prettily puzzled, for she did not quite like the persistence with which he clung to his notion. "Because, without writing there wouldn't be any high school. I must live and buy books and clothes, you know.""I'd forgotten that," she laughed. "Why weren't you born with an income?""I'd rather have good health and imagination," he answered. "I can make good on the income, but the other things have to be made good for—”“为什么？”她非常茫然地地望着他，因为她不太喜欢他那种抓着自己的观点不放的固执劲。“因为我不写作就上不了中学。你知道我得生活，得买书、买衣服。”“我忘了，”她笑了起来，“你怎么会生来就没有收入呢？”“我倒宁可生来就身体健康，想像力丰富。”他回答，“钱可以将就，——”

He almost said "you," then amended his sentence to, "have to be made good for one.""Don't say 'make good,'" she cried, sweetly petulant. "It's slang, and it's horrid."

他几乎用了个“你”，却补全了说，“有些东西却将就不了。”“别说‘将就’，”她口气甜蜜地使性子叫道，口气却甜蜜，“那话太俗，太难听了。”

He flushed, and stammered, "That's right, and I only wish you'd correct me every time."

他脸红了，给巴地说：“好，我只希望你一发现我有错就纠正我。”

"I—I'd like to," she said haltingly. "You have so much in you that is good that I want to see you perfect."“我——我愿意啊，”她犹豫地说，“你内心有许多优点，我想看到你完美的样子。”

He was clay in her hands immediately, as passionately desirous of being moulded by her as she was desirous of shaping him into the image of her ideal of man. And when she pointed out the opportuneness of the time, that the entrance examinations to high school began on the following Monday, he promptly volunteered that he would take them. Then she played and sang to him, while he gazed with hungry yearning at her, drinking in her loveliness and marvelling that there should not be a hundred suitors listening there and longing for her as he listened and longed.

他马上变成了她手中的泥团。他热情地希望她塑造他；她也很想把他塑造成为一个自己理想中的人。她提示他，正好中学入学考试就要在下周一举行时，他立即表示自己愿意参加。然后她便为他弹琴唱歌。他则饥渴地注视着她，饱饮着她的美丽，心里惊奇：怎么会没有一百个追求者像他一样在那儿听她弹唱、爱恋着她呢？

CHAPTER X

第十章

He stopped to dinner that evening, and, much to Ruth's satisfaction, made a favorable impression on her father. They talked about the sea as a career, a subject which Martin had at his finger-ends, and Mr. Morse remarked afterward that he seemed a very clear-headed young man. In his avoidance of slang and his search after right words, Martin was compelled to talk slowly, which enabled him to find the best thoughts that were in him. He was more at ease than that first night at dinner, nearly a year before, and his shyness and modesty even commended him to Mrs. Morse, who was pleased at his manifest improvement.

那天晚上，他留下来吃饭。令鲁思甚为满意的是，他给她父亲留下了一个好印象。他们谈论海上的事业，马丁对这个话题了若指掌。莫尔斯先生后来评价说马丁看上去是个头脑非常清楚的年轻人。为了避免使用俚语和搜寻合适的词汇，马丁不得不放慢语速说话，这使他能够找出自己内心最完善的想法。比起第一次用餐的那个晚上，马丁自在多了，这都差不多过去一年了。他的腼腆和谦虚甚至得到了莫尔斯夫人的称赞，她很高兴马丁有了显著的进步。

"He is the first man that ever drew passing notice from Ruth," she told her husband. "She has been so singularly backward where men are concerned that I have been worried greatly."“他是第一个引起鲁思短暂注意的男人，”她告诉丈夫说，“凡涉及男人的地方，她向来都迟疑不前，真是不可思议，让我十分担忧。”

Mr. Morse looked at his wife curiously.

莫尔斯先生诧异地看了他妻子一眼。

"You mean to use this young sailor to wake her up?" he questioned.“你是想用这个年轻的水手来唤醒她吗？”他问道。

"I mean that she is not to die an old maid if I can help it," was the answer.“我是想说，我要有法子就不会让她一辈子当老处女。”她是这么回答的。

"If this young Eden can arouse her interest in mankind in general, it will be a good thing."“如果这个叫伊登的青年能唤起她对人类的普遍兴趣，那会是件好事。”

"A very good thing," he commented. "But suppose,—and we must suppose, sometimes, my dear,—suppose he arouses her interest too particularly in him?”“一件很好的事，”他评论道，“但假设——有时候我们必须得假设一下，亲爱的——假设他唤起的兴趣是她专门对他一个人的呢。”

"Impossible," Mrs. Morse laughed. "She is three years older than he, and, besides, it is impossible. Nothing will ever come of it. Trust that to me."“不可能，”莫尔斯夫人大笑起来，“她比他大了三岁，何况，这就是不可能。这绝不会有什么结果的。相信我吧。”

And so Martin's rôle was arranged for him, while he, led on by Arthur and Norman, was meditating an extravagance. They were going out for a ride into the hills Sunday morning on their wheels, which did not interest Martin until he learned that Ruth, too, rode a wheel and was going along. He did not ride, nor own a wheel, but if Ruth rode, it was up to him to begin, was his decision; and when he said good night, he stopped in at a cyclery on his way home and spent forty dollars for a wheel. It was more than a month's hard-earned wages, and it reduced his stock of money amazingly; but when he added the hundred dollars he was to receive from the Examiner to the four hundred and twenty dollars that was the least The Youth's Companion could pay him, he felt that he had reduced the perplexity the unwonted amount of money had caused him. Nor did he mind, in the course of learning to ride the wheel home, the fact that he ruined his suit of clothes. He caught the tailor by telephone that night from Mr. Higginbotham's store and ordered another suit. Then he carried the wheel up the narrow stairway that clung like a fire-escape to the rear wall of the building, and when he had moved his bed out from the wall, found there was just space enough in the small room for himself and the wheel.

马丁的角色就被这样安排好了。与此同时，在阿瑟和诺曼的引导下，他正在筹划一项特别奢侈的活动。他们计划周日早上骑车到山里去，马丁对此本不感兴趣，直到听说鲁思也会骑车一起去。他不会骑车，也没有自己的自行车。但如果鲁思骑自行车的话，他就决定要开始骑自行车了。道别之后，他在回家路上停下来，进了一家自行车铺，花四十美元买了一辆自行车。这比他一个月辛苦赚的工资还多，花去了他的一大笔积蓄；但当他加上将会从《观察家》收到的一百美元和从《青春之友》收到的至少有四百二十块的美元时，他觉得这样倒减少了那笔多得异乎寻常的钱给自己造成的困扰。在回家路上学骑车的过程中，他把他那套衣服给毁了，也没在乎。那天晚上，他从希金博特姆先生的店里给裁缝打了电话，订了另一套衣服。接着，他把自行车搬上那窄窄的像太平梯一样紧靠着楼房后墙的楼梯。他把床从墙边挪出一点后，发现那小房间正好有足够的空间留出来给自己和自行车。

Sunday he had intended to devote to studying for the high school examination, but the pearl-diving article lured him away, and he spent the day in the white-hot fever of re-creating the beauty and romance that burned in him. The fact that the Examiner of that morning had failed to publish his treasure-hunting article did not dash his spirits. He was at too great a height for that, and having been deaf to a twice-repeated summons, he went without the heavy Sunday dinner with which Mr. Higginbotham invariably graced his table. To Mr. Higginbotham such a dinner was advertisement of his worldly achievement and prosperity, and he honored it by delivering platitudinous sermonettes upon American institutions and the opportunity said institutions gave to any hard-working man to rise—the rise, in his case, which he pointed out unfailingly, being from a grocer's clerk to the ownership of Higginbotham's Cash Store.

星期天，他原本打算全心投入到高中入学考试的学习中，但那篇潜水采珠的文章把他引开了。他一天都花在了内心燃烧的这股对再现美与浪漫的极端狂热之中。《观察家》那天早晨没有发表他那篇寻宝文章的现实并未打击到他的士气。以他所站的那种雄伟高度，这算不了什么。他对再三的叫唤充耳不闻，错过了丰盛的周日大餐——希金博特姆先生一贯以此来装点他的餐桌。对希金博特姆先生来说，这样一顿饭是在宣传其在世的成就和兴旺。为了给它增添光耀，他会说一大通陈词滥调，关于美国的制度及这种制度提供给任何努力工作的人飞黄腾达的机会。他总是指出说，就自己的例子，这种飞黄腾达就是从一个杂货铺的小职员提升为希金博特姆现金行的老板。

Martin Eden looked with a sigh at his unfinished "Pearl-diving" on Monday morning, and took the car down to Oakland to the high school. And when, days later, he applied for the results of his examinations, he learned that he had failed in everything save grammar.

周一早上，马丁·伊登望着他那篇未完成的《潜水采珠》叹了口气，然后乘车去奥克兰的高中。几天之后，当他申请查看他的考试成绩时，得知除了语法自己什么都没考及格。

"Your grammar is excellent," Professor Hilton informed him, staring at him through heavy spectacles; "but you know nothing, positively nothing, in the other branches, and your United States history is abominable—there is no other word for it, abominable. I should advise you—”“你的语法很出色，”希尔顿教授透过厚厚的镜片盯着他说，“但你对其他科目什么都不懂，一丁点儿都不懂，你的美国历史糟糕透顶——没有别的词能形容它了，糟糕透顶。我建议你——”

Professor Hilton paused and glared at him, unsympathetic and unimaginative as one of his own test-tubes. He was professor of physics in the high school, possessor of a large family, a meagre salary, and a select fund of parrot-learned knowledge.

希尔顿教授停了下来，瞪着眼看着他，表情冷漠，缺乏想象力，就像他自己的一支试管一样。他是这所高中的物理老师，靠一点点薪水养着一大家子人，挑选并积累了一些鹦鹉学舌得来的知识。

"Yes, sir," Martin said humbly, wishing somehow that the man at the desk in the library was in Professor Hilton's place just then.“是，先生，”马丁谦逊地说，希望那一刻坐在希尔顿教授位置上的人能莫名其妙地变成图书馆前台的管理员。

"And I should advise you to go back to the grammar school for at least two years. Good day."“我建议你回去至少读两年的语法学校。一天愉快。”

Martin was not deeply affected by his failure, though he was surprised at Ruth's shocked expression when he told her Professor Hilton's advice. Her disappointment was so evident that he was sorry he had failed, but chiefly so for her sake.

这一失败并未对马丁产生深刻的影响，尽管当他告诉鲁思希尔顿教授的建议时她那种震惊的表情让他很惊讶。她明显很失望，这使他对自己的失败感到愧疚，但主要是为了她。

"You see I was right," she said. "You know far more than any of the students entering high school, and yet you can't pass the examinations. It is because what education you have is fragmentary, sketchy. You need the discipline of study, such as only skilled teachers can give you. You must be thoroughly grounded. Professor Hilton is right, and if I were you, I'd go to night school. A year and a half of it might enable you to catch up that additional six months. Besides, that would leave you your days in which to write, or, if you could not make your living by your pen, you would have your days in which to work in some position."“你看，我是对的。”她说，“你知道的远比任何一个进入高中的学生都多，但是你却无法通过考试。这是因为你受到的教育过于零碎和粗略。你需要学习上的指导，只有经验丰富的老师才能给你那样的指导。你必须全面打好基础。希尔顿教授说得对，如果我是你的话，我就去上夜校。可能上一年半你就能赶上，省出那额外的六个月。再说，那样的话白天你还能写作，或者即使你无法靠笔杆子来养活自己，还可以在白天干点其他什么工作。”

But if my days are taken up with work and my nights with school, when am I going to see you?—was Martin's first thought, though he refrained from uttering it.

可是，如果我白天忙于工作，晚上又忙于上学的话，我什么时候来看你呢？——这是马丁的第一反应，虽然他克制住了没有说出来。

Instead, he said:—

相反，他说：

"It seems so babyish for me to be going to night school. But I wouldn't mind that if I thought it would pay. But I don't think it will pay. I can do the work quicker than they can teach me. It would be a loss of time—” he thought of her and his desire to have her—"and I can't afford the time. I haven't the time to spare, in fact."“上夜校对我来说太像小孩了。但如果我觉得它确实值得的话，我也并不介意。可我觉得这没什么用。我能学得比他们教得还快。那就是浪费时间——”他想到了她，想到了自己对她的渴望——“我没有时间可以浪费。其实我挤不出时间来。”

"There is so much that is necessary."She looked at him gently, and he was a brute to oppose her. "Physics and chemistry—you can't do them without laboratory study; and you'll find algebra and geometry almost hopeless with instruction. You need the skilled teachers, the specialists in the art of imparting knowledge."“你要学的东西有那么多，上学是必要的。”她温柔地看着他，他要是再反对她就是无理了。“物理和化学——你不去实验室是没法学习的；你还会发现要是没有老师指导，代数和几何也几乎学不会。你需要有经验的老师，那些传授知识这门艺术的专家。”

He was silent for a minute, casting about for the least vainglorious way in which to express himself.

他沉默了几分钟，急着寻找一种最不显得自负的方式来表达自己。

"Please don't think I'm bragging," he began. "I don't intend it that way at all. But I have a feeling that I am what I may call a natural student. I can study by myself. I take to it kindly, like a duck to water. You see yourself what I did with grammar. And I've learned much of other things—you would never dream how much. And I'm only getting started. Wait till I get—”He hesitated and assured himself of the pronunciation before he said "momentum. I'm getting my first real feel of things now. I'm beginning to size up the situation—”“请不要觉得我是在自夸，”他开口了，“我一点也不想那么做。但是我有一种感觉，就是我可以称自己为一名天生的学习者。我能够自学。我喜欢学习，就像鸭子喜欢水一样。你自己也看到了我是怎么学习语法的。我已经学会了其他很多事情——你永远也想不到会有多少。我才刚刚开始。等我成了——”他犹豫了一下，自己确认了发音之后说，“气候。现在我才开始第一次找着真正的感觉。我开始对情况做了一番估计——”

"Please don't say 'size up,'" she interrupted.“请不要用‘估计’。”她打断道。

"To get a line on things," he hastily amended.“做了一番打听。”他急忙改正说。

"That doesn't mean anything in correct English," she objected.“你的话在纯正的英语里什么意思也没有。”她抗议说。

He floundered for a fresh start.

他挣扎着要重新开始。

"What I'm driving at is that I'm beginning to get the lay of the land."“我想表达的是，我刚开始了解到事情的情况了。”

Out of pity she forebore, and he went on.

出于同情她忍了下来，于是他接着说。

"Knowledge seems to me like a chart-room. Whenever I go into the library, I am impressed that way. The part played by teachers is to teach the student the contents of the chart-room in a systematic way. The teachers are guides to the chart-room, that's all. It's not something that they have in their own heads. They don't make it up, don't create it. It's all in the chart-room and they know their way about in it, and it's their business to show the place to strangers who might else get lost. Now I don't get lost easily. I have the bump of location. I usually know where I'm at—What's wrong now?"“知识在我看来就像是一个海图室。无论什么时候去图书馆，我都有这种印象。老师起到的作用就是以一种系统的方式把这个海图室的内容教授给学生。老师就是这个海图室里的向导，仅此而已。他们自己的脑袋里并没有什么。他们编不出来，也造不出来。一切都在海图室里，他们对那里很熟悉，而他们的工作就是带那些容易迷路的外来者参观这个地方。而我不会轻易迷路。我有很强的方位感。我通常都会知道自己处于在哪里——那么还有什么问题呢？”

"Don't say 'where I'm at.'"“不要说‘我处于在’。”

"That's right," he said gratefully, "where I am. But where am I at—I mean, where am I? Oh, yes, in the chart-room. Well, some people—”“好的，”他感激地说，“自己处于哪里。不过我说到在哪里了——我是指，我说到哪里了？哦，对，在说海图室。恩，有些人们——”

"Persons," she corrected.“有些人。”她纠正道。

"Some persons need guides, most persons do; but I think I can get along without them. I've spent a lot of time in the chart-room now, and I'm on the edge of knowing my way about, what charts I want to refer to, what coasts I want to explore. And from the way I line it up, I'll explore a whole lot more quickly by myself. The speed of a fleet, you know, is the speed of the slowest ship, and the speed of the teachers is affected the same way. They can't go any faster than the ruck of their scholars, and I can set a faster pace for myself than they set for a whole schoolroom."“有些人需要向导，大多数人都需要，但我认为我没有向导也行。如今我已经在海图室里呆了很长时间了，正开始要熟悉这里，找到我想要查看的海图，弄清我想要去探索的海岸。通过我自己设计的这种方法，由我自己去探索，进展会快好多好多。你知道，舰队的速度是船速中最慢的，老师的速度也同样地受到影响。他们不能走得比那些普通的学习者快。和他们为整个学校的学习者设定的速度相比，我能为自己设定一个更快的速度。”

“'He travels the fastest who travels alone,'" she quoted at him.“‘独行者行最快。’”她引用他的话说。

But I'd travel faster with you just the same, was what he wanted to blurt out, as he caught a vision of a world without end of sunlit spaces and starry voids through which he drifted with her, his arm around her, her pale gold hair blowing about his face. In the same instant he was aware of the pitiful inadequacy of speech. God! If he could so frame words that she could see what he then saw! And he felt the stir in him, like a throe of yearning pain, of the desire to paint these visions that flashed unsummoned on the mirror of his mind. Ah, that was it! He caught at the hem of the secret. It was the very thing that the great writers and master-poets did. That was why they were giants. They knew how to express what they thought, and felt, and saw. Dogs asleep in the sun often whined and barked, but they were unable to tell what they saw that made them whine and bark. He had often wondered what it was. And that was all he was, a dog asleep in the sun. He saw noble and beautiful visions, but he could only whine and bark at Ruth. But he would cease sleeping in the sun. He would stand up, with open eyes, and he would struggle and toil and learn until, with eyes unblinded and tongue untied, he could share with her his visioned wealth. Other men had discovered the trick of expression, of making words obedient servitors, and of making combinations of words mean more than the sum of their separate meanings. He was stirred profoundly by the passing glimpse at the secret, and he was again caught up in the vision of sunlit spaces and starry voids—until it came to him that it was very quiet, and he saw Ruth regarding him with an amused expression and a smile in her eyes.

但和你一起我会行得一样快，这是他原本要脱口而出的话。那一刻，他幻想出了一个世界，那里无垠的天空之中既有阳光照耀又有星光闪烁，自己用手臂搂着她，和她一起在那片天空中飘荡，她那淡淡的金色头发吹拂在他脸上。就在这时，他意识到自己的语言贫乏得可怜。上帝啊！要是他能用语言表达出来，让她看到自己所看到的该多好啊！他感到内心一阵激动，就像一种带着热望的剧痛，渴望能将这些自然闪现在他脑海里的幻象描绘出来。啊，就是这样！他开始领悟到其中的奥秘了。这正是那些伟大的作家和大诗人所做的。这也是他们成为文学巨匠的原因所在。他们知道怎样去表达自己的所思、所感、所见。晒在太阳底下睡觉的狗经常呜咽和吠叫，但它们不能说出是看到了什么而呜咽吠叫。他常常想知道它们看到了什么。而他正是这样，一条晒在太阳下睡觉的狗。他看到过华贵美丽的幻象，但他只能在鲁思面前呜咽和吠叫。不过，他将不再晒着太阳睡觉了。他要站起来，睁大眼睛；他要拼搏要努力要学习，直到他的眼睛变得明亮，他的舌头变得灵活，这样就能和她一起分享他丰富的想象了。有些人发现了表达的技巧，使词语成为听话的奴仆，用词的组合表达出比单个词汇意思的总和更丰富的含义。对这一奥秘的短暂一瞥令他激动万分，他又一次看到了天空中阳光照耀、星光闪闪的幻象——直到他发现一切变得安静，他看见鲁思注视着自己，一副被逗乐的样子，眼睛里带着微笑。

"I have had a great visioning," he said, and at the sound of his words in his own ears his heart gave a leap. Where had those words come from? They had adequately expressed the pause his vision had put in the conversation. It was a miracle. Never had he so loftily framed a lofty thought. But never had he attempted to frame lofty thoughts in words. That was it. That explained it. He had never tried. But Swinburne had, and Tennyson, and Kipling, and all the other poets. His mind flashed on to his "Pearl-diving.”He had never dared the big things, the spirit of the beauty that was a fire in him. That article would be a different thing when he was done with it. He was appalled by the vastness of the beauty that rightfully belonged in it, and again his mind flashed and dared, and he demanded of himself why he could not chant that beauty in noble verse as the great poets did. And there was all the mysterious delight and spiritual wonder of his love for Ruth. Why could he not chant that, too, as the poets did? They had sung of love. So would he. By God!“我有过一场伟大的梦幻。”他说，用自己的耳朵听到自己说的这些话时，他的心猛地一惊。这些词是从哪里来的呢？它们充分表达了他的幻想对谈话造成的中断。这是个奇迹。他从来都没有这样高雅地表达过一个高雅的思想。但是他从来都没有尝试过用言语来表达高雅的思想。原来如此。这就揭示出其中的奥秘。他从来都没有尝试过。但斯温伯恩试过，坦尼森试过，基普林试过，还有其他所有的诗人都试过。他的脑海中有闪现出他的《潜水采珠》。他从不敢冒险写那些崇高的事物，比如美的灵魂，它仿佛是他内心的一簇火焰。当他完成那篇文章时，它将与众不同。他被一种浩瀚无垠的美所震撼，这种美天然包含在那个故事里。他的脑海里再次闪过一个大胆的念头——他责问自己为什么不能像那些伟大的诗人一样用华丽的诗篇来颂唱这种美。还有他对鲁思的爱所带来的一切莫名的欢乐和精神奇迹。他为什么不能像诗人们那样来颂唱这些呢？他们都歌颂过爱情。他也将歌颂爱情。上帝作证！

And in his frightened ears he heard his exclamation echoing. Carried away, he had breathed it aloud. The blood surged into his face, wave upon wave, mastering the bronze of it till the blush of shame flaunted itself from collar-rim to the roots of his hair.

他的耳朵听到自己这声惊叹的回音被吓到了。他想得失了神，不觉大声叫出来。血液涌到了他的脸上，一阵又一阵，盖过了原有的青铜色，直到羞愧的红晕从领口一路炫耀到他的发根。

"I—I—beg your pardon," he stammered. "I was thinking."“我——我——很抱歉，”他结结巴巴地说，“我刚才在想事情。”

"It sounded as if you were praying," she said bravely, but she felt herself inside to be withering and shrinking. It was the first time she had heard an oath from the lips of a man she knew, and she was shocked, not merely as a matter of principle and training, but shocked in spirit by this rough blast of life in the garden of her sheltered maidenhood.“听起来你似乎是在祈祷。”她勇敢地说，内心却感到自己在鄙夷和退缩。这是她第一次从一个自己认识的男人嘴里听到咒骂的话，她被惊呆了，这不只是规矩和教养的问题，而是她那被保护着的处女园中这阵来自生活的粗野狂风让她精神上有点震惊。

But she forgave, and with surprise at the ease of her forgiveness. Somehow it was not so difficult to forgive him anything. He had not had a chance to be as other men, and he was trying so hard, and succeeding, too. It never entered her head that there could be any other reason for her being kindly disposed toward him. She was tenderly disposed toward him, but she did not know it. She had no way of knowing it. The placid poise of twenty-four years without a single love affair did not fit her with a keen perception of her own feelings, and she who had never warmed to actual love was unaware that she was warming now.

但是她原谅了他，这种轻易的原谅让她自己都感到惊奇。不知怎的，要原谅他任何过错都不那么难。他不曾有过一个机会去成为其他人，他是那么努力，而且正在取得成功。她从来没有想到过自己对他的态度那么温柔可亲会有任何别的原因。她对他怀有一种微妙的情感，但她自己却不知道。她是不可能知道的。二十四年未谈过一场恋爱的宁谧心境使她不可能敏锐地察觉出自己的情感，从来没有被真正的爱情唤醒过的她没有意识到自己已然春心萌动。

CHAPTER XI

第十一章

Martin went back to his "pearl-diving" article, which would have been finished sooner if it had not been broken in upon so frequently by his attempts to write poetry. His poems were love poems, inspired by Ruth, but they were never completed. Not in a day could he learn to chant in noble verse. Rhyme and metre and structure were serious enough in themselves, but there was, over and beyond them, an intangible and evasive something that he caught in all great poetry, but which he could not catch and imprison in his own. It was the elusive spirit of poetry itself that he sensed and sought after but could not capture. It seemed a glow to him, a warm and trailing vapor, ever beyond his reaching, though sometimes he was rewarded by catching at shreds of it and weaving them into phrases that echoed in his brain with haunting notes or drifted across his vision in misty wafture of unseen beauty. It was baffling. He ached with desire to express and could but gibber prosaically as everybody gibbered. He read his fragments aloud. The metre marched along on perfect feet, and the rhyme pounded a longer and equally faultless rhythm, but the glow and high exaltation that he felt within were lacking. He could not understand, and time and again, in despair, defeated and depressed, he returned to his article. Prose was certainly an easier medium.

马丁回去继续写《潜水采珠》，若非他多次中断，试图去写诗，这篇文章能完成得更快。他写的诗都是爱情诗，灵感源于鲁思，但都不曾写完。要吟诵出高雅的诗句，实非一朝一夕便能学会的。韵脚、韵律和结构本身已够难了，但在此之上，他能感觉到在所有伟大的诗篇中还有一种无形而捉摸不定的东西，然而他却无法抓住这东西，更无法将其写进自己的诗里。他感受到的、追寻探求却企及不了的，正是诗歌本身这闪烁不定的神韵。对他来说，它仿若一道明亮的光芒，一股温暖的袅袅蒸汽，偶尔他能够抓住一丝半缕来编织成几句诗句，那萦绕的音韵便回荡在他的脑海中，从未见过的美也如雾般飘浮在他的视野中，然而即便如此，它仍永远那般可望而不可即。这实在让人惶惑。他渴望表达，渴望得心都隐隐作痛，但却只能瞎扯出一些任谁都能扯得出来的平淡东西。他大声读着他那些支离破碎的诗句。其韵律整齐匀称，尽善尽美，韵脚敲击出的节奏虽和缓却完美无缺，但是始终缺少他心里所感到的那种光辉和激昂。他不明白为什么，于是屡战屡败，屡次灰心绝望，只好再回去写文章。散文当然还是比较好写的文体。

Following the "Pearl-diving," he wrote an article on the sea as a career, another on turtle-catching, and a third on the northeast trades. Then he tried, as an experiment, a short story, and before he broke his stride he had finished six short stories and despatched them to various magazines. He wrote prolifically, intensely, from morning till night, and late at night, except when he broke off to go to the reading-room, draw books from the library, or to call on Ruth. He was profoundly happy. Life was pitched high. He was in a fever that never broke. The joy of creation that is supposed to belong to the gods was his. All the life about him—the odors of stale vegetables and soapsuds, the slatternly form of his sister, and the jeering face of Mr. Higginbotham—was a dream. The real world was in his mind, and the stories he wrote were so many pieces of reality out of his mind.

写完《潜水采珠》后，他写了一篇关于海上经历的文章，一篇捉海龟的东西，还有一篇是有关东北信风的。然后他尝试着写短篇小说，当是练练手，在他还写得顺手的时候一口气写成了六篇，分别寄到六家不同的杂志社。他的写作成果累累，他热切地从早到晚，起早贪黑地写着，中途只会停下去阅览室查看资料、去图书馆借书，或是去探望鲁思。他由衷地感到欣喜。生活高歌向前。他的创作热情永不停歇。他感受到了本该是神灵才应享有的创造之乐。他生活中的一切——腐烂蔬菜的气味，肥皂沫的味道，姐姐的邋遢模样，希金博特姆先生嘲弄的脸——都成了幻梦。真实的世界存在于他的心中，他写出的小说是他心中现实的许多片断。

The days were too short. There was so much he wanted to study. He cut his sleep down to five hours and found that he could get along upon it. He tried four hours and a half, and regretfully came back to five. He could joyfully have spent all his waking hours upon any one of his pursuits. It was with regret that he ceased from writing to study, that he ceased from study to go to the library, that he tore himself away from that chart-room of knowledge or from the magazines in the reading-room that were filled with the secrets of writers who succeeded in selling their wares. It was like severing heart strings, when he was with Ruth, to stand up and go; and he scorched through the dark streets so as to get home to his books at the least possible expense of time. And hardest of all was it to shut up the algebra or physics, put note-book and pencil aside, and close his tired eyes in sleep. He hated the thought of ceasing to live, even for so short a time, and his sole consolation was that the alarm clock was set five hours ahead. He would lose only five hours anyway, and then the jangling bell would jerk him out of unconsciousness and he would have before him another glorious day of nineteen hours.

日子太短，而他想要研究的东西太多。他将睡眠时间削减为五个小时，发现自己也能熬得过去。于是他又试试睡四个半小时，但只能惋惜地放弃，回到之前的五小时。将醒着的每一刻都花在他所追求的任何一种东西上，他都会感到快乐。停下写作而去做研究是种遗憾，停止研究而去图书馆是种遗憾，离开那知识的海图室、离开阅览室的杂志（里面尽是卖文成功的作家们的秘诀）也是种痛苦。与鲁思在一起时，要站起身来离开简直像被扯断了心弦；随即他又火急火燎地穿过黑漆漆的街道，想要尽快回到家，回到他的书本中去。而最让他难受的莫过于合上代数书或物理书，搁下笔记本和铅笔，闭上疲惫的双眼去睡觉。一想到要停下写作去生活，他便感到厌恶，哪怕是停下短短一点时间，而他唯一的慰藉便是闹钟被调快了五个小时。他损失的毕竟只有那五个小时，然后叮铃铃的铃声便会将他从昏睡中猛地吵醒，于是他又开始了他辉煌的一天十九个小时。

In the meantime the weeks were passing, his money was ebbing low, and there was no money coming in. A month after he had mailed it, the adventure serial for boys was returned to him by The Youth's Companion. The rejection slip was so tactfully worded that he felt kindly toward the editor. But he did not feel so kindly toward the editor of the San Francisco Examiner. After waiting two whole weeks, Martin had written to him. A week later he wrote again. At the end of the month, he went over to San Francisco and personally called upon the editor. But he did not meet that exalted personage, thanks to a Cerberus of an office boy, of tender years and red hair, who guarded the portals. At the end of the fifth week the manuscript came back to him, by mail, without comment. There was no rejection slip, no explanation, nothing. In the same way his other articles were tied up with the other leading San Francisco papers. When he recovered them, he sent them to the magazines in the East, from which they were returned more promptly, accompanied always by the printed rejection slips.

与此同时，一周又一周过去了，他的钱越来越少，但却分文未入。他将为男孩子写的连载冒险小说寄出去一个月后，《青年之友》把稿子退了回来。退稿信写得很得体，使他对这个编辑颇有好感。但他对《旧金山考察报》的编辑就有些反感。等了足足两个星期，马丁写信给这个编辑。一周之后他又写了一封。到了月末，他又亲自跑到旧金山去拜访那位编辑。但他并没有见到这位高贵的人士，因为有个年纪不大、满头红发的办公室勤杂工像只冥府守门狗一样守着大门。第五周的周末，他收到了邮寄回来的手稿，上面一句评论也没有。没有退稿附条，没有解释，什么都没有。他的其他文章在旧金山主要的报纸那儿遭遇了相同的命运。收到退回来的稿件后，他又将它们寄到东部的杂志社，退稿更加快，而且总是附有打印好的退稿条子。

The short stories were returned in similar fashion. He read them over and over, and liked them so much that he could not puzzle out the cause of their rejection, until, one day, he read in a newspaper that manuscripts should always be typewritten. That explained it. Of course editors were so busy that they could not afford the time and strain of reading handwriting. Martin rented a typewriter and spent a day mastering the machine. Each day he typed what he composed, and he typed his earlier manuscripts as fast as they were returned him. He was surprised when the typed ones began to come back. His jaw seemed to become squarer, his chin more aggressive, and he bundled the manuscripts off to new editors.

好几篇短篇小说也以相似的方式退了回来。他一遍又一遍地读着这些文章，觉得非常喜欢，实在想不出有什么理由不被采用，直至有一天，他在报纸上读到稿件都应该用打字机打好，总算才明白了。原来如此。确实嘛，编辑们都很忙的，哪有时间和功夫去读手写的稿子呢。于是马丁租了一台打字机，费了一天的时间学会了用这机器来打字。他每天都将写出来的东西用打字机打好，之前的稿子一退回来，他也马上打好寄出。当他用打字机打好的稿件也被退回来时，他讶异了。他的面颊似乎更有棱角了，下巴似乎更盛气凌人了。他把稿件包扎好，又寄给了别的编辑。

The thought came to him that he was not a good judge of his own work. He tried it out on Gertrude. He read his stories aloud to her. Her eyes glistened, and she looked at him proudly as she said:—

他开始意识到自己未必能公正地评价自己的作品。于是他就去找格特鲁德来试试。他向她大声读出自己的小说。她的眼睛闪烁着光芒，骄傲地看着他说：

"Ain't it grand, you writin' those sort of things."“太棒了，你居然能写出这样的东西来！”

"Yes, yes," he demanded impatiently. "But the story—how did you like it?”“行了，行了。”他不耐烦地问道，“但这故事——你觉得如何？”

"Just grand," was the reply. "Just grand, an' thrilling, too. I was all worked up."“棒极了。”她答道，“棒极了，而且还很惊心动魄，听得我好不激动。”

He could see that her mind was not clear. The perplexity was strong in her good-natured face. So he waited.

他看得出来她头脑有点不清不楚。她和善的脸上露出了强烈的迷惑。于是他等着。

"But, say, Mart," after a long pause, "how did it end? Did that young man who spoke so highfalutin' get her?"“不过，马，”顿了好一会儿她才说，“这故事怎么结尾的？那个能说会道的小伙子最后得到她了吗？”

And, after he had explained the end, which he thought he had made artistically obvious, she would say:—

他便给她解说故事的结局（他原以为文中已巧妙地交代清楚了），听完后她却说：

"That's what I wanted to know. Why didn't you write that way in the story?"“这就是我想弄清楚的。你在故事里为什么不这么写呢？”

One thing he learned, after he had read her a number of stories, namely, that she liked happy endings.

在他给她读了好几个故事之后，他弄明白了一点：她喜欢故事结局美满团圆。

"That story was perfectly grand," she announced, straightening up from the wash-tub with a tired sigh and wiping the sweat from her forehead with a red, steamy hand; "but it makes me sad. I want to cry. There is too many sad things in the world anyway. It makes me happy to think about happy things. Now if he'd married her, and—You don't mind, Mart?"she queried apprehensively. "I just happen to feel that way, because I'm tired, I guess. But the story was grand just the same, perfectly grand. Where are you goin' to sell it?"“那故事棒得很，”她从洗衣盆旁边直起身子，疲惫地叹了口气，用一只红彤彤的、冒着水蒸汽的手抹去额上的汗，宣布道，“但它真叫我难过，弄得我想哭。这个世界就是太多伤心事了。想些开心的事可以让我开心。如果那个小伙子娶了她，并且——你不介意吧，马？”她疑惧地问道，“我就只是这么想想而已。我估计我是太累了。不过这故事还是挺棒的，非常不错。你想把它卖到哪里去？”

"That's a horse of another color," he laughed.“那完全是另一码事了。”他笑道。

"But if you did sell it, what do you think you'd get for it?"“要是你真卖掉了这故事，你觉得你能拿多少钱？”

"Oh, a hundred dollars. That would be the least, the way prices go."“噢，一百块。按时价算，这还是最低的了。”

"My! I do hope you'll sell it!"“天啊！我真希望你能卖出去！”

"Easy money, eh?"Then he added proudly: "I wrote it in two days. That's fifty dollars a day."“这钱容易挣，对吧？”然后他自豪地补充道：“这故事我两天就写完了。五十块一天呢。”

He longed to read his stories to Ruth, but did not dare. He would wait till some were published, he decided, then she would understand what he had been working for. In the meantime he toiled on. Never had the spirit of adventure lured him more strongly than on this amazing exploration of the realm of mind. He bought the text-books on physics and chemistry, and, along with his algebra, worked out problems and demonstrations. He took the laboratory proofs on faith, and his intense power of vision enabled him to see the reactions of chemicals more understandingly than the average student saw them in the laboratory. Martin wandered on through the heavy pages, overwhelmed by the clews he was getting to the nature of things. He had accepted the world as the world, but now he was comprehending the organization of it, the play and interplay of force and matter. Spontaneous explanations of old matters were continually arising in his mind. Levers and purchases fascinated him, and his mind roved backward to hand-spikes and blocks and tackles at sea. The theory of navigation, which enabled the ships to travel unerringly their courses over the pathless ocean, was made clear to him. The mysteries of storm, and rain, and tide were revealed, and the reason for the existence of trade-winds made him wonder whether he had written his article on the northeast trade too soon. At any rate he knew he could write it better now. One afternoon he went out with Arthur to the University of California, and, with bated breath and a feeling of religious awe, went through the laboratories, saw demonstrations, and listened to a physics professor lecturing to his classes.

他特别想把他的故事读给鲁思听，但鼓不起勇气。他决定，等到他发表了几篇后再说，那时她就会明白他一直以来在忙些什么了。目前他仍在埋头苦干。他的冒险精神如此强烈地促使他在心灵的领域做出惊人的探索，这真是前所未有。他买来物理和化学课本，拿出自己的代数书，做着演算和求证。他无条件地相信书本上实验得出的证明，而他那强大的想象力使他对化学物质之间的反应的理解比普通学生做过实验所了解到的更加深刻。马丁在艰深的书本知识中漫步前进，为自己越来越接近和了解事物的本质而欣喜不已。以前他只将世界当作是世界，但现在他了解了世界的构造，力和物质之间的相互作用。他心中不断涌出对旧事物的新理解。杠杆和支点的原理使他入迷，他的心漂回到海上，徜徉在撬棍、滑轮和滑车之中。他现在清楚了如何能让船只在无路的海洋上准确地沿着航线行进的航海理论。他揭开了风暴、雨以及潮汐的奥秘，而季风成因的道理让他疑虑自己那篇关于东北信风的文章是否写得太早。至少他知道自己现在能写得更好。一天下午他和阿瑟去了趟加州大学，带着宗教般的敬畏凝神屏气地走过一间间实验室，参观了演示，聆听了一个物理学教授的讲课。

But he did not neglect his writing. A stream of short stories flowed from his pen, and he branched out into the easier forms of verse—the kind he saw printed in the magazines—though he lost his head and wasted two weeks on a tragedy in blank verse, the swift rejection of which, by half a dozen magazines, dumfounded him. Then he discovered Henley and wrote a series of sea-poems on the model of "Hospital Sketches."They were simple poems, of light and color, and romance and adventure. "Sea Lyrics," he called them, and he judged them to be the best work he had yet done. There were thirty, and he completed them in a month, doing one a day after having done his regular day's work on fiction, which day's work was the equivalent to a week's work of the average successful writer. The toil meant nothing to him. It was not toil. He was finding speech, and all the beauty and wonder that had been pent for years behind his inarticulate lips was now pouring forth in a wild and virile flood.

但是他没有忽略了写作。一连串短篇小说自他的笔下流出，而他也开始写起较为平易的诗文——他在杂志上看到的那种——他还一时头脑发了昏，花两个星期用无韵诗写了部悲剧，却很快被六七家杂志给退稿回来，着实让他大吃一惊。然后他发现了亨利，还模仿《病院速写》写了一系列海上诗歌。这些诗都很朴素，有着光与色、浪漫与冒险。他将这些诗称为《海上抒情诗》，认为这是他最得意的作品。总共有三十首诗，他用一个月的时间就完成了，每天在写完一定量的小说（相当于一般的成功作家一周的工作量）之后写上一首。这样的艰辛对他来说不算什么。这算不上艰辛。他是在找寻表达的语言，曾经在他那笨拙的双唇后面积郁多年的所有美丽与奇妙，如今化成了一股狂野而汹涌的激流奔泻而出。

He showed the "Sea Lyrics" to no one, not even to the editors. He had become distrustful of editors. But it was not distrust that prevented him from submitting the "Lyrics."They were so beautiful to him that he was impelled to save them to share with Ruth in some glorious, far-off time when he would dare to read to her what he had written. Against that time he kept them with him, reading them aloud, going over them until he knew them by heart.

他没让任何人看《海上抒情诗》，就连编辑也不让。他已不再信任编辑了。但他不把《海上抒情诗》给别人看并非因为不信任。这些诗对他而言实在太美了，他只想保存下来，留待久远的将来某个辉煌时刻，待他敢向鲁思诵读自己的作品的时候，跟她一同欣赏。为了那个时刻，他将这些诗收藏起来，大声读着它们，一遍遍地朗读着，直到烂熟于心。

He lived every moment of his waking hours, and he lived in his sleep, his subjective mind rioting through his five hours of surcease and combining the thoughts and events of the day into grotesque and impossible marvels. In reality, he never rested, and a weaker body or a less firmly poised brain would have been prostrated in a general break-down. His late afternoon calls on Ruth were rarer now, for June was approaching, when she would take her degree and finish with the university. Bachelor of Arts!—when he thought of her degree, it seemed she fled beyond him faster than he could pursue.

醒着的时候他争分夺秒地生活着，睡觉的时候他也在生活着，他的主观精神在那五小时的暂停中骚动着，将一天的想法和事件结合成一件件荒诞无稽的奇事。事实上，他从来没有休息过，换作是一个身子稍孱弱或是脑子稍急躁的人早已经垮掉了。他傍晚去拜访鲁思的次数现在也减少了，因为快到六月了，她那时会拿到学位，从大学毕业。文学士！——想到她的学位，他便觉得她似乎飞过了他，飞得那么快，他根本没法追得上。

One afternoon a week she gave to him, and arriving late, he usually stayed for dinner and for music afterward. Those were his red-letter days. The atmosphere of the house, in such contrast with that in which he lived, and the mere nearness to her, sent him forth each time with a firmer grip on his resolve to climb the heights. In spite of the beauty in him, and the aching desire to create, it was for her that he struggled. He was a lover first and always. All other things he subordinated to love.

每个礼拜她只给他一个下午的时间，而晚到的他通常会留下来吃晚饭，然后听听音乐。那些日子是值得他纪念的日子。她屋里的氛围和他住着的房子形成的鲜明对比，还有纯粹的与她接近，每次都使他更加坚定地决心往高处爬。尽管他心里藏着那些美，尽管他迫切地想要创作，她始终是他斗争的动力。他首先是一个爱人，并永远是爱人。他把别的一切都放在爱之下。

Greater than his adventure in the world of thought was his love-adventure. The world itself was not so amazing because of the atoms and molecules that composed it according to the propulsions of irresistible force; what made it amazing was the fact that Ruth lived in it. She was the most amazing thing he had ever known, or dreamed, or guessed.

远比他在思想世界中的冒险更加伟大的，是他的爱情探险。世界本身并不那么神奇，因为它不过是由原子和分子在不可抗拒的力量推动下构建而成的；世界之所以神奇，是因为鲁思生活在其中。她是他所知道的、梦想过的或是猜想过的最令人惊异的事物。

But he was oppressed always by her remoteness. She was so far from him, and he did not know how to approach her. He had been a success with girls and women in his own class; but he had never loved any of them, while he did love her, and besides, she was not merely of another class. His very love elevated her above all classes. She was a being apart, so far apart that he did not know how to draw near to her as a lover should draw near. It was true, as he acquired knowledge and language, that he was drawing nearer, talking her speech, discovering ideas and delights in common; but this did not satisfy his lover's yearning. His lover's imagination had made her holy, too holy, too spiritualized, to have any kinship with him in the flesh. It was his own love that thrust her from him and made her seem impossible for him. Love itself denied him the one thing that it desired.

但是她的遥远总让他感到压抑。她离他那么远，他都不知道如何去接近她。在跟他一个阶级的女孩和妇女面前他曾经所向披靡；但他从来没爱过其中的任何一个，而他真爱着鲁思，除此之外，她不仅仅是属于另外一个阶级。他的这份爱更使她高于一切阶级。她是一个遥远的存在，那么遥远，使得他不知道如何以一个情人的身份去接近她。诚然，学到越多的知识和语言，他就能更靠近她，能用她那种语言说话，能发现思想和爱好上的共同点；可这不能满足他作为情人的思慕之情。坠入爱河的他把她想象得很神圣，她太过神圣化、精神化了，不可能和他有任何肉体上的亲近。正是他对她的爱把她从自己身边推开，使得她不可能和他在一起。爱情本身拒绝给他爱情唯一冀求的东西。

And then, one day, without warning, the gulf between them was bridged for a moment, and thereafter, though the gulf remained, it was ever narrower. They had been eating cherries—great, luscious, black cherries with a juice of the color of dark wine. And later, as she read aloud to him from "The Princess," he chanced to notice the stain of the cherries on her lips. For the moment her divinity was shattered. She was clay, after all, mere clay, subject to the common law of clay as his clay was subject, or anybody's clay. Her lips were flesh like his, and cherries dyed them as cherries dyed his. And if so with her lips, then was it so with all of her. She was woman, all woman, just like any woman. It came upon him abruptly. It was a revelation that stunned him. It was as if he had seen the sun fall out of the sky, or had seen worshipped purity polluted.

于是有一天，突然间他们之间的鸿沟出现了片刻的弥合，而自此之后，那条鸿沟虽然还在，却渐渐变窄了。那天他们正在吃着樱桃——粒大而甘甜的黑樱桃，有着深酒色的汁液。后来，在她给他朗读《公主》的时候，他偶然发现她嘴唇上沾上了樱桃汁。那一刻她的神圣感遭到粉碎。她终究只是血肉之躯，和他、和任何人一样都得服从于肉体躯壳的普遍法则。她的嘴唇同他的一样都是肉做的，樱桃汁会沾染他的嘴唇，也会沾染上她的。如果嘴唇是这样，她的全身也是这样。她是女人，浑身上下都是女人，就跟任何一个女人一样。这个念头突然闪现在他脑海中。它启示了他，让他大吃了一惊。这就好比看到太阳飞出天外，看到崇拜的纯洁遭受玷污。

Then he realized the significance of it, and his heart began pounding and challenging him to play the lover with this woman who was not a spirit from other worlds but a mere woman with lips a cherry could stain. He trembled at the audacity of his thought; but all his soul was singing, and reason, in a triumphant paean, assured him he was right. Something of this change in him must have reached her, for she paused from her reading, looked up at him, and smiled. His eyes dropped from her blue eyes to her lips, and the sight of the stain maddened him. His arms all but flashed out to her and around her, in the way of his old careless life. She seemed to lean toward him, to wait, and all his will fought to hold him back.

然后他领会到了这件事的意义，心开始怦怦狂跳起来，要求他去和这个女人谈情说爱，她不是来自其他世界的神灵，而只是一个嘴唇会沾染上樱桃汁的女人。他为这个大胆的念头而颤抖；但是他的整个灵魂都在歌唱，而理智也唱着胜利的赞歌，肯定了他想法的正确。她一定多少感觉到了他内心的这个变化，因为她停下朗诵，抬头看着他，微笑了。他的视线从她蓝色的双眼落在了她的嘴唇上，那上面的污迹让他发狂。他差一点就伸出双臂去拥抱她，像他当年无忧无虑的时候会做的那样。她似乎也将身子倾向他，等待着，而他用所有的意志力才将自己遏制住。

"You were not following a word," she pouted.“你一个字都没听进去。”她撅着嘴。

Then she laughed at him, delighting in his confusion, and as he looked into her frank eyes and knew that she had divined nothing of what he felt, he became abashed. He had indeed in thought dared too far. Of all the women he had known there was no woman who would not have guessed—save her. And she had not guessed. There was the difference. She was different. He was appalled by his own grossness, awed by her clear innocence, and he gazed again at her across the gulf. The bridge had broken down.

然后她笑了起来，他这副狼狈的样子让她感到开心。他看着她率真的双眼，意识到她丝毫没有发觉他的感受，于是感到有些羞惭。他确实想得太离谱了。他认识的女人都能猜得出来，就是除了她以外。而她并没有猜到。这就是不同之处。她是与众不同的。他惊骇于自己的粗野，对她的纯洁天真肃然生敬，于是隔着鸿沟又一次凝视着她。桥已经垮了。

But still the incident had brought him nearer. The memory of it persisted, and in the moments when he was most cast down, he dwelt upon it eagerly. The gulf was never again so wide. He had accomplished a distance vastly greater than a bachelorship of arts, or a dozen bachelorships. She was pure, it was true, as he had never dreamed of purity; but cherries stained her lips. She was subject to the laws of the universe just as inexorably as he was. She had to eat to live, and when she got her feet wet, she caught cold. But that was not the point. If she could feel hunger and thirst, and heat and cold, then could she feel love—and love for a man. Well, he was a man. And why could he not be the man? "It's up to me to make good," he would murmur fervently. "I will be the man. I will make myself the man. I will make good."

但这件事仍把他向她拉近了。他一直惦念着这事，在他最低落的时候他更是使劲地来回想着它。鸿沟再也不像以前那样宽了。他跨过的距离比一个文学士学位，比一打学位还要大上许多。没错，她是纯洁的，是那种他从未梦想过的纯洁；然而樱桃汁照样能染污她的嘴唇。她和他一样，都必须得服从宇宙的法则。她得要吃饭才能活下去，打湿了脚也会感冒。但这不是重点。如果她能感到饥饿口渴，能感知热和冷，那么她也能感受爱——会爱上一个人。而他也是个人。那为什么他就不能是那个人呢？“这要靠我自己去努力争取，”他热切地低声念叨着，“我要成为那个人。我要让自己成为那个人。我要努力争取。”

CHAPTER XII

第十二章

Early one evening, struggling with a sonnet that twisted all awry the beauty and thought that trailed in glow and vapor through his brain, Martin was called to the telephone.

有一天傍晚，马丁正费尽心思地写着一首十四行诗，可写下的诗句却将涌现在他脑中那拖曳着光与雾的美和思想扭曲得很不像样。这时，有人叫他去听电话。

"It's a lady's voice, a fine lady's," Mr. Higginbotham, who had called him, jeered.“是位女士的声音，漂亮女士的声音。”喊他接电话的希金博特姆先生嘲弄地说。

Martin went to the telephone in the corner of the room, and felt a wave of warmth rush through him as he heard Ruth's voice. In his battle with the sonnet he had forgotten her existence, and at the sound of her voice his love for her smote him like a sudden blow. And such a voice!—delicate and sweet, like a strain of music heard far off and faint, or, better, like a bell of silver, a perfect tone, crystal-pure.

马丁走到房间角落的电话旁，一听到鲁思的声音，他便感到有股暖流涌遍全身。在他和十四行诗斗争着的时候，他忘记了她的存在，而一听到她的声音，他对她的爱就好像突然的一击重重打在了他身上。多动听的声音！——娇柔而甜蜜，好比远处传来一串微弱的乐声，或者更应该说像银铃，音色绝美，如水晶般清透。

No mere woman had a voice like that. There was something celestial about it, and it came from other worlds. He could scarcely hear what it said, so ravished was he, though he controlled his face, for he knew that Mr. Higginbotham's ferret eyes were fixed upon him.

有这样一副嗓子的不仅仅是个女人。这嗓音有着天国的东西，它来自其他的世界。他被这声音迷住了，几乎没听见她具体在说些什么，但他控制住了自己的脸部表情，因为他知道希金博特姆先生那双臭鼬一样的眼睛正紧盯着他看。

It was not much that Ruth wanted to say—merely that Norman had been going to take her to a lecture that night, but that he had a headache, and she was so disappointed, and she had the tickets, and that if he had no other engagement, would he be good enough to take her?

鲁思想要说的东西不多——就只是说诺曼那晚原本要带她去听一个演讲，但因为头痛去不了了，她很失望，而她手里有票，如果他没别的事要忙，能不能麻烦他陪她去呢？

Would he! He fought to suppress the eagerness in his voice. It was amazing. He had always seen her in her own house. And he had never dared to ask her to go anywhere with him. Quite irrelevantly, still at the telephone and talking with her, he felt an overpowering desire to die for her, and visions of heroic sacrifice shaped and dissolved in his whirling brain. He loved her so much, so terribly, so hopelessly. In that moment of mad happiness that she should go out with him, go to a lecture with him—with him, Martin Eden—she soared so far above him that there seemed nothing else for him to do than die for her. It was the only fit way in which he could express the tremendous and lofty emotion he felt for her. It was the sublime abnegation of true love that comes to all lovers, and it came to him there, at the telephone, in a whirlwind of fire and glory; and to die for her, he felt, was to have lived and loved well. And he was only twenty-one, and he had never been in love before.

能不能陪她去！他竭力克制着不让自己的嗓音透出激动。真是太美好了！他总是在她的屋子里同她见面。而他也从来不敢约她一起出门。就在他仍站在电话旁跟她说这话的这个时候，他无端地产生了一种强烈的欲望，渴望为她赴汤蹈火，英勇牺牲的种种幻景在他那眩晕的脑子里忽隐忽现。他是这么地爱她，疯狂地爱着，绝望地爱着。她居然要跟他——跟他，马丁·伊登——一起出去听演讲！在这个高兴得令人发狂的时刻，她忽然变得那么高高在上，似乎除了为她去死，他再也没有别的事可做。这是他向她表达自己心中那崇高伟大的感情唯一适当的方式。所有恋人都会有这种真爱的高尚的自我牺牲，而就在这里，就在电话旁，这样的精神也植在了他的心中，化成一股火焰与光华的旋风；他感到为她牺牲就不枉活过一次，爱过一场。他才二十一岁，以前也从没恋爱过。

His hand trembled as he hung up the receiver, and he was weak from the organ which had stirred him. His eyes were shining like an angel's, and his face was transfigured, purged of all earthly dross, and pure and holy.

挂上电话听筒时他的手在颤抖，这搅得他心神不宁的机器使得他虚弱无力。他的双眼闪烁着天使般的光彩，脸也变了样，洗尽了俗世的渣滓，显得纯洁而神圣。

"Makin' dates outside, eh?" his brother-in-law sneered. "You know what that means. You'll be in the police court yet."“要到外头约会啦？”他的姐夫讥笑地说，“你明白这是什么意思。小心搞到法院去。”

But Martin could not come down from the height. Not even the bestiality of the allusion could bring him back to earth. Anger and hurt were beneath him. He had seen a great vision and was as a god, and he could feel only profound and awful pity for this maggot of a man. He did not look at him, and though his eyes passed over him, he did not see him; and as in a dream he passed out of the room to dress. It was not until he had reached his own room and was tying his necktie that he became aware of a sound that lingered unpleasantly in his ears. On investigating this sound he identified it as the final snort of Bernard Higginbotham, which somehow had not penetrated to his brain before.

但此刻马丁还没法从云霄上下来。就连这话里头暗示的下流意思也不能把他拉回人世。他已凌越于愤怒和伤痛之上。他看见了一个巨大的幻影，把自己当作了一个神明，对于这样一个蛆虫似的人他只怀有深切至极的悲悯。马丁没有看他，眼光虽然掠过了他身上，但眼里没有他；马丁像在梦里一般走出房间去穿衣服。直到他回到自己的房间打着领带的时候，他才意识到耳朵里有个声音在讨厌地纠缠着他。仔细辨认了一下这声音，他发现这是伯纳德·希金博特姆最后的哼鼻声，不知怎的，方才这声音没有钻进他的脑子。

As Ruth's front door closed behind them and he came down the steps with her, he found himself greatly perturbed. It was not unalloyed bliss, taking her to the lecture. He did not know what he ought to do. He had seen, on the streets, with persons of her class, that the women took the men's arms. But then, again, he had seen them when they didn't; and he wondered if it was only in the evening that arms were taken, or only between husbands and wives and relatives.

鲁思家的前门在他们身后关上，他和她一起走下台阶，这时他发现自己慌乱不安。和她一起去听演讲并不是纯粹的幸福。他不知道自己应该做什么。他在街上看见过和她一个阶级的女人挽着男人的手臂。但是有时也见到过没挽着手臂的；于是他纳闷是不是只有在晚上才挽着手臂，又或者是只有夫妻或亲人之间才会这么做。

Just before he reached the sidewalk, he remembered Minnie. Minnie had always been a stickler. She had called him down the second time she walked out with him, because he had gone along on the inside, and she had laid the law down to him that a gentleman always walked on the outside—when he was with a lady. And Minnie had made a practice of kicking his heels, whenever they crossed from one side of the street to the other, to remind him to get over on the outside. He wondered where she had got that item of etiquette, and whether it had filtered down from above and was all right.

刚要踏上人行道时。他想起了明妮。明妮向来是个一丝不苟的人。她在第二次和他一起出门时就将他斥责了一番，因为他走在了靠里的一侧。于是她给他定了规矩：男士和女士一同走路时，男士总是要走在靠马路的一侧。之后明妮每次在他们过马路的时候就踢他的脚跟，提醒他要走靠着马路的那一侧。他搞不清楚她是打哪儿知道这么个礼节的，不知道这会不会是从上流社会传下来的，够不够可靠。

It wouldn't do any harm to try it, he decided, by the time they had reached the sidewalk; and he swung behind Ruth and took up his station on the outside. Then the other problem presented itself. Should he offer her his arm? He had never offered anybody his arm in his life. The girls he had known never took the fellows' arms. For the first several times they walked freely, side by side, and after that it was arms around the waists, and heads against the fellows' shoulders where the streets were unlighted. But this was different. She wasn't that kind of a girl. He must do something.

他们俩走上了人行道，他决定无妨试试这条规矩；于是他从鲁思背后绕到她的另一边，走在了靠马路的那一侧。然后另外一个问题出现了。他应不应该向她伸出手臂呢？他这一辈子可从来没向任何人伸出过手臂。他认识的女孩从来不挽男伴的手臂。开始的几次两人并肩分开走，之后就用胳膊搂着对方的腰，到了没有灯光的街道就把头靠在同伴的肩膀上。但这次不同。她不是那种女孩子。他必须做点什么才行。

He crooked the arm next to her—crooked it very slightly and with secret tentativeness, not invitingly, but just casually, as though he was accustomed to walk that way. And then the wonderful thing happened. He felt her hand upon his arm. Delicious thrills ran through him at the contact, and for a few sweet moments it seemed that he had left the solid earth and was flying with her through the air. But he was soon back again, perturbed by a new complication. They were crossing the street. This would put him on the inside. He should be on the outside. Should he therefore drop her arm and change over? And if he did so, would he have to repeat the manoeuvre the next time? And the next? There was something wrong about it, and he resolved not to caper about and play the fool. Yet he was not satisfied with his conclusion, and when he found himself on the inside, he talked quickly and earnestly, making a show of being carried away by what he was saying, so that, in case he was wrong in not changing sides, his enthusiasm would seem the cause for his carelessness.

他把靠她那边的手臂弯了起来——微微弯着，悄悄试探着，又不显得是在请她挽住，而只是随便自然，仿佛他就是习惯这么走路。然后奇妙的事情发生了。他感觉到她的手挽住了他的手臂。一碰触到她的手，阵阵美妙的震颤便传遍他全身，有那么甜蜜的一小会儿他仿佛离开了坚实的地面，跟她一起飘飞在空中。但是他很快又让新的复杂情况带回了地上。他们要过马路了。这样他就走在靠里的一侧了。而他应该靠着马路那边走的。他是不是应该松开她的手将位置换过来？要是他松开手，下次他是不是得又玩一次刚才的花样呢？那再下次呢？这里面有些东西不大对劲，他决心不要再换来换去跟个傻瓜一样。不过他对自己的结论不太放心，于是当他走在靠里那侧的时候他就滔滔不绝、满腔热忱地说着话，装作沉浸在自己的讲话里，这样一来，万一他没将位置换过来是不对的，看起来也会像是因为热情才导致这样的粗心大意。

As they crossed Broadway, he came face to face with a new problem. In the blaze of the electric lights, he saw Lizzie Connolly and her giggly friend. Only for an instant he hesitated, then his hand went up and his hat came off. He could not be disloyal to his kind, and it was to more than Lizzie Connolly that his hat was lifted. She nodded and looked at him boldly, not with soft and gentle eyes like Ruth's, but with eyes that were handsome and hard, and that swept on past him to Ruth and itemized her face and dress and station. And he was aware that Ruth looked, too, with quick eyes that were timid and mild as a dove's, but which saw, in a look that was a flutter on and past, the working-class girl in her cheap finery and under the strange hat that all working-class girls were wearing just then.

在过百老汇大街时，他又面临一个新的问题。在电灯的灯光下，他看见了莉齐·康诺利和她那个爱咯咯傻笑的朋友。只犹豫了一下，他便抬起他的手，脱下帽子向她们致意。他不能对自己的同类不忠，他脱帽致意也不仅仅是为了莉齐·康诺利。她点了点头，大胆地看着他，但她的眼光不像鲁思那般轻柔温和，而是俊美、坚定地扫过他，看向鲁思，逐一打量着她的脸孔、衣服和身份。他知道鲁思也在看她，用那腼腆温驯如鸽子般的眼光很快地瞟了她一下，而就在那转瞬即逝的一瞟中，鲁思已经看见了一个工人阶级的女孩，一身廉价的服饰，戴着一顶所有工人阶级的女孩都会戴的奇怪帽子。

"What a pretty girl!"Ruth said a moment later.“多漂亮的姑娘！”过了会儿鲁思说。

Martin could have blessed her, though he said:—

马丁很想感谢她，不过他却说：

"I don't know. I guess it's all a matter of personal taste, but she doesn't strike me as being particularly pretty."“我不知道。我猜是各人口味不一样吧，我倒没觉得她特别好看。”

"Why, there isn't one woman in ten thousand with features as regular as hers. They are splendid. Her face is as clear-cut as a cameo. And her eyes are beautiful.”“怎么会，长得这样端正的五官可是万里难挑一啊。她的五官精致极了。她的脸轮廓分明，简直像是宝石上的多彩浮雕。眼睛也很漂亮。”

"Do you think so?" Martin queried absently, for to him there was only one beautiful woman in the world, and she was beside him, her hand upon his arm.“你这么认为的？”马丁心不在焉地问道，因为对他来说这世界上只有一个漂亮的女人，而这个女人就在他身边挽着他的手臂。

"Do I think so?“我这么认为？

If that girl had proper opportunity to dress, Mr. Eden, and if she were taught how to carry herself, you would be fairly dazzled by her, and so would all men.”

如果那个女孩有合适的机会来穿戴装扮，伊登先生，如果她能再学学举止仪态，她会让你目眩神晕的，会让所有的男人都目眩神晕的。”

"She would have to be taught how to speak," he commented, "or else most of the men wouldn't understand her. I'm sure you couldn't understand a quarter of what she said if she just spoke naturally."“她得先学学怎么说话，”他评论道，“不然大部分男人都会听不明白她说的话。我可以肯定，要是她像平常一样自然地说话，你就连她说的四分之一都听不懂。”

"Nonsense! You are as bad as Arthur when you try to make your point."“胡说！你发表起你的意见来就跟阿瑟一样糟糕。”

"You forget how I talked when you first met me. I have learned a new language since then. Before that time I talked as that girl talks. Now I can manage to make myself understood sufficiently in your language to explain that you do not know that other girl's language. And do you know why she carries herself the way she does? I think about such things now, though I never used to think about them, and I am beginning to understand—much.”“你忘了你第一次遇到我时我是怎么讲话了。自那之后我就学会了一种新的语言。在此之前我说话就跟那个女孩一样。现在我能用你们的语言非常清楚明白地跟你解释你听不懂那女孩说的话。你知道她为什么那样子走路么？虽然过去我从来没考虑过这个问题，我现在考虑了，开始明白了——明白许多。

"But why does she?"“她为什么那样子走路？”

"She has worked long hours for years at machines. When one's body is young, it is very pliable, and hard work will mould it like putty according to the nature of the work. I can tell at a glance the trades of many workingmen I meet on the street. Look at me. Why am I rolling all about the shop? Because of the years I put in on the sea. If I'd put in the same years cow-punching, with my body young and pliable, I wouldn't be rolling now, but I'd be bow-legged. And so with that girl. You noticed that her eyes were what I might call hard. She has never been sheltered. She has had to take care of herself, and a young girl can't take care of herself and keep her eyes soft and gentle like—like yours, for example.”“她多年来在机器边上长时间干活儿。人的身子在年轻的时候可塑性很强，苦活儿会根据工作的性质像捏油灰一样塑造着身体。我一眼就能看出我在街上遇到的工人是干什么活儿的。看看我。为什么我在屋里总会晃着身子？因为我很多年都在海上度过。如果我那些年去当了牛仔，以我那年轻而可塑性强的身子，我现在就不会晃着身子，而是变成罗圈腿了。那个女孩也是这样。你应该注意到，我可以说她的眼神犀利。她从来没有得到过谁的保护。她只得自己照顾自己，而一个年轻的女孩不可能既要照顾自己又还能使眼神轻柔温和，就跟——比如，跟你的眼神那样。”

"I think you are right," Ruth said in a low voice. "And it is too bad. She is such a pretty girl."“我想你说得对，”鲁思低声说道，“这太糟糕了。她是那么漂亮的一个女孩。”

He looked at her and saw her eyes luminous with pity. And then he remembered that he loved her and was lost in amazement at his fortune that permitted him to love her and to take her on his arm to a lecture.

他看着她，见到她眼里闪着怜悯的亮光。这时他想起来他是爱着她的，于是沉浸在自身幸运的惊异中，幸运容许他爱她，让她挽着他的手臂和他去听演讲。

Who are you, Martin Eden? he demanded of himself in the looking-glass,that night when he got back to his room. He gazed at himself long and curiously. Who are you? What are you? Where do you belong? You belong by rights to girls like Lizzie Connolly. You belong with the legions of toil, with all that is low, and vulgar, and unbeautiful. You belong with the oxen and the drudges, in dirty surroundings among smells and stenches. There are the stale vegetables now. Those potatoes are rotting. Smell them, damn you, smell them. And yet you dare to open the books, to listen to beautiful music, to learn to love beautiful paintings, to speak good English, to think thoughts that none of your own kind thinks, to tear yourself away from the oxen and the Lizzie Connollys and to love a pale spirit of a woman who is a million miles beyond you and who lives in the stars! Who are you? and what are you? damn you! And are you going to make good?

你是谁，马丁·伊登？那晚他回到自己的屋里，对着镜子里的自己问道。他怀着好奇久久地凝视着自己。你是谁？你是做什么的？你是什么身份？你理当是属于莉齐·康诺利那样的女孩子的。你是个吃苦受累的人，是低下、粗鄙、丑陋的人。你同牛群、苦役相伴，呆在臭气熏熏的肮脏环境里。现在就有不新鲜的蔬菜。那些土豆在腐烂着。闻闻它们，妈的，闻闻看。而你居然还敢翻开书本，听美妙的音乐，学着去爱漂亮的绘画，说规范的英语，思考那些你的同类想不出来的想法，挣扎着离开牛群和莉齐·康诺利这样的女孩们，去爱一个高高在你之上、住在星星上的、苍白精灵一样的女人！你是谁？你是做什么的？去你的！你还要去努力争取？

He shook his fist at himself in the glass, and sat down on the edge of the bed to dream for a space with wide eyes. Then he got out note-book and algebra and lost himself in quadratic equations, while the hours slipped by, and the stars dimmed, and the gray of dawn flooded against his window.

他对着镜子里的自己挥了挥拳头，坐在床边上，瞪大了眼睛做了一会儿梦。然后他拿出笔记本和代数书，专注于二次方程式中，而时光悄悄流去，星光渐渐暗淡，黎明时分的灰白晨光泻在了他的窗台上。

CHAPTER XIII

第十三章

It was the knot of wordy socialists and working-class philosophers that held forth in the City Hall Park on warm afternoons that was responsible for the great discovery. Once or twice in the month, while riding through the park on his way to the library, Martin dismounted from his wheel and listened to the arguments, and each time he tore himself away reluctantly. The tone of discussion was much lower than at Mr. Morse's table. The men were not grave and dignified. They lost their tempers easily and called one another names, while oaths and obscene allusions were frequent on their lips. Once or twice he had seen them come to blows. And yet, he knew not why, there seemed something vital about the stuff of these men's thoughts. Their logomachy was far more stimulating to his intellect than the reserved and quiet dogmatism of Mr. Morse. These men, who slaughtered English, gesticulated like lunatics, and fought one another's ideas with primitive anger, seemed somehow to be more alive than Mr. Morse and his crony, Mr. Butler.

一群唠叨的社会主义者和工人阶级的哲学家常常在暖和的午后聚到市政厅公园滔滔不绝地辩论，正是他们引起了这个伟大的发现。每个月有一两次，马丁在骑着自行车穿过公园去图书馆的途中总要停下车来听他们的辩论，而每次离开时都有些依依不舍。他们讨论的格调比在莫尔斯先生餐桌上讨论的要低很多。这些人不严肃也不高贵。他们很容易就发脾气，互相对骂，经常满口污言秽语。还有一两次他看见他们打起了架。然而，他不明白为什么，这些人的思想中似乎有着某种至关重要的东西。他们的唇枪舌战远比莫尔斯先生谨慎冷静的独断论更能刺激他的思考。这些人大肆糟蹋英语，像疯子一样打着手势，怀着原始的愤怒攻击对方的想法，他们看起来不知怎的就比莫尔斯先生和他的老朋友巴特勒更加生机勃勃。

Martin had heard Herbert Spencer quoted several times in the park, but one afternoon a disciple of Spencer's appeared, a seedy tramp with a dirty coat buttoned tightly at the throat to conceal the absence of a shirt. Battle royal was waged, amid the smoking of many cigarettes and the expectoration of much tobacco-juice, wherein the tramp successfully held his own, even when a socialist workman sneered, "There is no god but the Unknowable, and Herbert Spencer is his prophet."Martin was puzzled as to what the discussion was about, but when he rode on to the library he carried with him a new-born interest in Herbert Spencer, and because of the frequency with which the tramp had mentioned First Principles, Martin drew out that volume.

马丁在公园里好几次听见有人引用赫伯特·斯潘塞的话，不过有天下午斯潘塞的一个追随者出现了，他是个潦倒的流浪汉，肮脏的外套上的纽扣一直紧扣到喉咙那里，以掩盖里面没穿衬衫。混战开始了，人们抽掉了许多香烟，吐了许多斗烟唾沫，四周烟雾缭绕，然后流浪汉成功守卫了自己的阵地，即使有个相信社会主义的工人讥笑着说：“没有神，只有不可知，而赫伯特·斯潘塞是他的先知。”马丁对他们在讨论些什么感到困惑，但在骑车去图书馆的时候又对赫伯特·斯潘塞产生了兴趣，而因为那个流浪汉多次提到《第一项原则》，马丁便将那本书借出来。

So the great discovery began. Once before he had tried Spencer, and choosing the Principles of Psychology to begin with, he had failed as abjectly as he had failed with Madam Blavatsky. There had been no understanding the book, and he had returned it unread. But this night, after algebra and physics, and an attempt at a sonnet, he got into bed and opened First Principles. Morning found him still reading. It was impossible for him to sleep. Nor did he write that day. He lay on the bed till his body grew tired, when he tried the hard floor, reading on his back, the book held in the air above him, or changing from side to side. He slept that night, and did his writing next morning, and then the book tempted him and he fell, reading all afternoon, oblivious to everything and oblivious to the fact that that was the afternoon Ruth gave to him. His first consciousness of the immediate world about him was when Bernard Higginbotham jerked open the door and demanded to know if he thought they were running a restaurant.

于是伟大的发现便开始了。以前他也曾经试着读过斯潘塞，选了《心理学原理》作为入门，却和读布拉瓦茨基夫人时一样悲惨失败了。这本书根本读不懂，他没读就把它还掉了。但是这天晚上，学完代数和物理，试着写了首十四行诗之后，他上了床翻开了《第一项原则》。他一直读到天亮。他没法睡得着觉。那天他也没写作。他躺在床上看书，一直躺到身子都累了，便去试试硬地板，仰躺在上面看，将书举起来，或是从左边换到右边侧着身子看。到了晚上他才去睡觉，第二天早上去写作，而那书却在引诱着他，他忍不住诱惑又读了整整一个下午，忘掉了一切，甚至忘了那天下午是鲁思给他安排了时间。当伯纳德·希金博特姆突然打开门问马丁是不是觉得他们在经营一家饭店时，他才第一次感觉到身边的世界。

Martin Eden had been mastered by curiosity all his days. He wanted to know, and it was this desire that had sent him adventuring over the world. But he was now learning from Spencer that he never had known, and that he never could have known had he continued his sailing and wandering forever. He had merely skimmed over the surface of things, observing detached phenomena, accumulating fragments of facts, making superficial little generalizations—and all and everything quite unrelated in a capricious and disorderly world of whim and chance. The mechanism of the flight of birds he had watched and reasoned about with understanding; but it had never entered his head to try to explain the process whereby birds, as organic flying mechanisms, had been developed. He had never dreamed there was such a process. That birds should have come to be, was unguessed. They always had been. They just happened.

马丁·伊登一生都受着好奇心的奴役。他想要知道，而正是这种求知欲送他到世界各个地方去冒险。但他现在从斯潘塞的书里明白了原来自己一无所知，原来他要是继续航行和漫游就永远不会知道任何东西。他只是掠过了事物的表面，观察到孤立的现象，收集着支离破碎的事实，做出一些肤浅的、小范围的归纳总结——而在一个充满偶然和机遇的变化莫测、杂乱无章的世界里，一切事物之间都是毫不相干的。他曾经观察和分析过鸟群飞行的机制，并给出了自己的理解；但他从来没有想过去试着从鸟这种有机的飞行机制的演化过程中寻求解释。他从没想过有这么一个演化过程。没想到鸟儿居然是进化而来的。它们一直都存在着。自然而然就存在着。

And as it was with birds, so had it been with everything. His ignorant and unprepared attempts at philosophy had been fruitless. The medieval metaphysics of Kant had given him the key to nothing, and had served the sole purpose of making him doubt his own intellectual powers. In similar manner his attempt to study evolution had been confined to a hopelessly technical volume by Romanes. He had understood nothing, and the only idea he had gathered was that evolution was a dry-as-dust theory, of a lot of little men possessed of huge and unintelligible vocabularies. And now he learned that evolution was no mere theory but an accepted process of development; that scientists no longer disagreed about it, their only differences being over the method of evolution.

他对鸟儿的理解是这样，那么他对一切事物的理解也都是这样。他过去对哲学那毫无准备的瞎啃一气是徒劳无用的。康德那中世纪式的形而上学没有给他开启任何东西的钥匙，反倒只让他对自己的智力产生了怀疑。同样地，他对进化论进行钻研的尝试也仅局限于罗马尼斯的一本专业得没法读懂的书。他什么都没弄明白，而从这本书得到的唯一想法就是进化论是门枯燥无味的理论，是由许许多多操着大堆难懂的词语的小人物弄出来的。现在他明白了，进化论不仅仅是理论，而是一个已被人们接受的发展过程；科学家们对它已经毫无争议，他们的分歧只在于进化的方式。

And here was the man Spencer, organizing all knowledge for him, reducing everything to unity, elaborating ultimate realities, and presenting to his startled gaze a universe so concrete of realization that it was like the model of a ship such as sailors make and put into glass bottles. There was no caprice, no chance. All was law. It was in obedience to law that the bird flew, and it was in obedience to the same law that fermenting slime had writhed and squirmed and put out legs and wings and become a bird.

现在有了这么个斯潘塞，为他把所有的知识都组织了起来，归纳了一切事物，详述了终极的现实，并将一个描绘如此具体的宇宙呈现在他惊诧的注视下，就像水手们做好一只船舶模型，放在玻璃瓶里。没有反复无常，没有偶然意外。全部都是法则。鸟儿会飞是服从法则，萌动的粘性物质扭曲、蠕动、长出腿和翅膀、变成一只鸟也是服从同一项法则。

Martin had ascended from pitch to pitch of intellectual living, and here he was at a higher pitch than ever. All the hidden things were laying their secrets bare. He was drunken with comprehension. At night, asleep, he lived with the gods in colossal nightmare; and awake, in the day, he went around like a somnambulist, with absent stare, gazing upon the world he had just discovered. At table he failed to hear the conversation about petty and ignoble things, his eager mind seeking out and following cause and effect in everything before him. In the meat on the platter he saw the shining sun and traced its energy back through all its transformations to its source a hundred million miles away, or traced its energy ahead to the moving muscles in his arms that enabled him to cut the meat, and to the brain wherewith he willed the muscles to move to cut the meat, until, with inward gaze, he saw the same sun shining in his brain.

马丁的智力一次又一次地升级，现在他已达到了前所未有的高度。所有隐藏着的事物逐渐展露出它们的秘密。他沉醉于理解中。夜晚睡着的时候，他与神明一起生活在离奇古怪的梦魇中；白天醒着的时候，他像个梦游者一样走来走去，心不在焉地瞪着眼，凝视着他刚刚发现的世界。在餐桌上时他对那些琐碎卑微的谈话听而不闻，他那热切的心寻找追寻着眼前一切事物的原因和结果。他在盘里的肉中看到了灿烂的阳光，又通过阳光的种种变换追溯它的能量和它亿万里之外的源头，或者从追踪太阳的能量到自己手臂上运动着的、使自己能切肉的肌肉，接着再追踪到支配肌肉切肉的大脑，直到最后，通过内视他看见了同一个太阳在他脑子里发光。

He was entranced by illumination, and did not hear the "Bughouse," whispered by Jim, nor see the anxiety on his sister's face, nor notice the rotary motion of Bernard Higginbotham's finger, whereby he imparted the suggestion of wheels revolving in his brother-in-law's head.

这样的恍然大悟使他出了神，他没听见吉姆低声说了句“神经病”，没看见他姐姐脸上的焦急神色，也没注意到伯纳德·希金博特姆用手指在画着圆圈，这暗示他的姐夫脑子里有轮子在转动。

What, in a way, most profoundly impressed Martin, was the correlation of knowledge—of all knowledge. He had been curious to know things, and whatever he acquired he had filed away in separate memory compartments in his brain. Thus, on the subject of sailing he had an immense store. On the subject of woman he had a fairly large store. But these two subjects had been unrelated. Between the two memory compartments there had been no connection. That, in the fabric of knowledge, there should be any connection whatever between a woman with hysterics and a schooner carrying a weather-helm or heaving to in a gale, would have struck him as ridiculous and impossible. But Herbert Spencer had shown him not only that it was not ridiculous, but that it was impossible for there to be no connection. All things were related to all other things from the farthermost star in the wastes of space to the myriads of atoms in the grain of sand under one's foot. This new concept was a perpetual amazement to Martin, and he found himself engaged continually in tracing the relationship between all things under the sun and on the other side of the sun. He drew up lists of the most incongruous things and was unhappy until he succeeded in establishing kinship between them all—kinship between love, poetry, earthquake, fire, rattlesnakes, rainbows, precious gems, monstrosities, sunsets, the roaring of lions, illuminating gas, cannibalism, beauty, murder, lovers, fulcrums, and tobacco. Thus, he unified the universe and held it up and looked at it, or wandered through its byways and alleys and jungles, not as a terrified traveller in the thick of mysteries seeking an unknown goal, but observing and charting and becoming familiar with all there was to know. And the more he knew, the more passionately he admired the universe, and life, and his own life in the midst of it all.

在某种程度上令马丁印象最为深刻的，是知识（所有知识）之间的相互联系。以前他好奇地去了解事物，不管获得什么知识他都将其归档存到头脑中不同的记忆隔间里。因此，在航海这方面他有着庞大的知识储备。而在女人这方面他也有着为数不小的贮存。但是这两方面互无联系。在这两个记忆隔间之间并没有任何联系。在知识结构，要是一个歇斯底里的女人跟一艘顺风使舵或逆风行驶的纵帆船有任何联系的话，他会觉得荒谬可笑，认为毫无可能。但赫伯特·斯潘塞向他表明了这种说法不仅不荒谬，而且上述两者之间不可能没有联系。从辽阔空间中最遥远的星星到脚下一粒沙中数不胜数的原子，一切事物都与所有其他事物有联系。这个新的概念让马丁永远都感到惊异，他发现自己不断在追寻着太阳底下和太阳另一面的一切事物之间的联系。他把最不相关的事物列成单，寻找着它们之间的关系，直到找到了才满意——他找着爱情、诗歌、地震、火焰、响尾蛇、彩虹、宝石、怪物、日落、狮吼、照明瓦斯、自相残杀、美丽、谋杀、情人、杠杆支点以及烟草之间的联系。就这样，他将宇宙结合成一个整体，举起来看着它，或是漫步穿过它的侧径、小巷和丛林，他不是一个在迷雾重重之中寻找未知目标的战战兢兢的游客，而是在观察着、描绘着、熟悉着要知道的一切。他知道得越多，就越热情地钦慕宇宙和生命，包括自己的生命。

"You fool!"he cried at his image in the looking-glass. "You wanted to write, and you tried to write, and you had nothing in you to write about. What did you have in you?—some childish notions, a few half-baked sentiments, a lot of undigested beauty, a great black mass of ignorance, a heart filled to bursting with love, and an ambition as big as your love and as futile as your ignorance.“你这个笨蛋！”他冲着镜子里自己的映像喊道，“你想要写作，也试着去写作，但你心里没有什么可写的东西。你心里有些什么？——一些幼稚的念头，几丝半生不熟的伤感，许多没有消化的美，一大堆黑乎乎的无知，一颗让爱情胀得快炸的心和跟你的爱情一样庞大、却和你的无知一样没用的志气。

And you wanted to write! Why, you're just on the edge of beginning to get something in you to write about. You wanted to create beauty, but how could you when you knew nothing about the nature of beauty? You wanted to write about life when you knew nothing of the essential characteristics of life. You wanted to write about the world and the scheme of existence when the world was a Chinese puzzle to you and all that you could have written would have been about what you did not know of the scheme of existence. But cheer up, Martin, my boy. You'll write yet. You know a little, a very little, and you're on the right road now to know more. Some day, if you're lucky, you may come pretty close to knowing all that may be known. Then you will write."

而你还想去写作！唉，你才刚刚开始学到些东西能供你写作。你想要创造美，可是你连美的性质都不知道，怎么去创造？你想要写生活，而你却对生活的根本特点一无所知。你想要写这个世界，想写生活的计划，而这个世界对你来说却是个难解的谜团，你所能写出来的东西都是你不了解的生活的计划。不过，振作起来，马丁，小伙子。你还是会写作的。你知道点儿东西，一丁点儿，现在你又找到正确的路子能去了解更多。如果你够幸运的话，有朝一日可能会接近于知道一切可以知道的东西。那时你就会写作了。”

He brought his great discovery to Ruth, sharing with her all his joy and wonder in it. But she did not seem to be so enthusiastic over it. She tacitly accepted it and, in a way, seemed aware of it from her own studies. It did not stir her deeply, as it did him, and he would have been surprised had he not reasoned it out that it was not new and fresh to her as it was to him. Arthur and Norman, he found, believed in evolution and had read Spencer, though it did not seem to have made any vital impression upon them, while the young fellow with the glasses and the mop of hair, Will Olney, sneered disagreeably at Spencer and repeated the epigram, "There is no god but the Unknowable, and Herbert Spencer is his prophet."

他将他的伟大发现带去鲁思那里，想和她分享这其中他所有的快乐和惊奇。但是她对这个发现好像并不太热心。她只是默默地听着，而且在某种程度上似乎从她自己的学习研究中已有所了解。她并没有像他那样深受触动，要不是他想明白了斯潘塞的学说对鲁思来说并不像对他那么新鲜，他会大吃一惊的。他发现阿瑟和诺曼都相信进化论，也都读过斯潘塞，虽然这两者对他们两人没有产生过任何重要影响；而那个戴着眼镜、头发浓密的年轻人威尔·奥尔尼还刻薄地讥讽斯潘塞，并重复了那句警言：“没有上帝，只有不可知之物，而赫伯特·斯潘塞是他的先知。”

But Martin forgave him the sneer, for he had begun to discover that Olney was not in love with Ruth. Later, he was dumfounded to learn from various little happenings not only that Olney did not care for Ruth, but that he had a positive dislike for her. Martin could not understand this. It was a bit of phenomena that he could not correlate with all the rest of the phenomena in the universe. But nevertheless he felt sorry for the young fellow because of the great lack in his nature that prevented him from a proper appreciation of Ruth's fineness and beauty. They rode out into the hills several Sundays on their wheels, and Martin had ample opportunity to observe the armed truce that existed between Ruth and Olney. The latter chummed with Norman, throwing Arthur and Martin into company with Ruth, for which Martin was duly grateful.

不过马丁原谅了他的挖苦，因为他开始发觉奥尔尼并没有爱上鲁思。后来，他从种种琐碎的小事上目瞪口呆地发现奥尔尼不仅不爱鲁思，反而非常讨厌她。马丁对此无法理解。这可是他没法跟宇宙中其他任何现象联系起来的一点现象。不过他仍替那个年轻人感到可惜，因为他本性中的巨大缺陷阻止了他恰当地欣赏鲁思的优雅和美丽。好几个星期天，他们一同骑车去山里玩，于是马丁有多次机会看到鲁思和奥尔尼之间剑拔弩张的关系。奥尔尼老跟诺曼呆一块，把鲁思丢给阿瑟和马丁陪伴，对此马丁很感激。

Those Sundays were great days for Martin, greatest because he was with Ruth, and great, also, because they were putting him more on a par with the young men of her class. In spite of their long years of disciplined education, he was finding himself their intellectual equal, and the hours spent with them in conversation was so much practice for him in the use of the grammar he had studied so hard. He had abandoned the etiquette books, falling back upon observation to show him the right things to do. Except when carried away by his enthusiasm, he was always on guard, keenly watchful of their actions and learning their little courtesies and refinements of conduct.

那几个星期天对马丁来说是重大的日子，最让他高兴的是能和鲁思在一起，其次是因为这几天他越来越能和她同阶级的年轻男子平起平坐了。尽管他们受过多年的训练教育，马丁发现自己的智力并不逊色于他们，而同他们谈话还给了他机会将辛辛苦苦学会的语法派上用场。他将关于社交礼仪的书都抛到一边，转而靠观察来学习得体的礼节。除了热情洋溢得无法自制的时候，他总是保持警惕，敏锐地留意他们的一举一动，学着他们细微的礼节和文雅的举止。

The fact that Spencer was very little read was for some time a source of surprise to Martin. "Herbert Spencer," said the man at the desk in the library, "oh, yes, a great mind."But the man did not seem to know anything of the content of that great mind. One evening, at dinner, when Mr. Butler was there, Martin turned the conversation upon Spencer. Mr. Morse bitterly arraigned the English philosopher's agnosticism, but confessed that he had not read "First Principles”; while Mr. Butler stated that he had no patience with Spencer, had never read a line of him, and had managed to get along quite well without him. Doubts arose in Martin's mind, and had he been less strongly individual he would have accepted the general opinion and given Herbert Spencer up. As it was, he found Spencer's explanation of things convincing; and, as he phrased it to himself, to give up Spencer would be equivalent to a navigator throwing the compass and chronometer overboard. So Martin went on into a thorough study of evolution, mastering more and more the subject himself, and being convinced by the corroborative testimony of a thousand independent writers. The more he studied, the more vistas he caught of fields of knowledge yet unexplored, and the regret that days were only twenty-four hours long became a chronic complaint with him.

斯潘塞很少有人读，这个事实着实让马丁惊讶了好久。“赫伯特·斯潘塞。”图书馆借书处的那个人说，“噢，对，是个伟大的思想家。”但是这个人对这个伟大的思想家的思想似乎一无所知。有一天晚上晚餐的时候，巴特勒先生也在席间，马丁将话头转向了斯潘塞。莫尔斯先生刻薄地责难了一番这位英国哲学家的不可知论，但坦言他从没读过《第一项原则》；而巴特勒先生则说他没耐性去读斯潘塞，他的书他一行都没读过，而且没斯潘塞他也还过得挺不错。马丁心里生起了疑窦，要不是他这么强烈地保持着独立思想，他也会接受大家的意见并放弃赫伯特·斯潘塞的。事实是，他发现斯潘塞对事物的解释很有说服力；并且，正如他对自己提到过，放弃斯潘塞就如同航海家将指南针和经纬仪扔到海里。于是马丁继续深入彻底地研究进化论，在这个方面愈发精通了，千百个独立作家的确凿证据也令他深信不疑。他越是研究，就抓住了越多未曾探索过的知识领域的远景，他开始经常抱怨一天只有二十四小时，为此感到遗憾。

One day, because the days were so short, he decided to give up algebra and geometry. Trigonometry he had not even attempted. Then he cut chemistry from his study-list, retaining only physics.

有一天，因为一天的时间太短了，他决定放弃代数和几何。三角学他也没想过要去尝试。然后他又将化学从学习表中删掉，只留下了物理。

"I am not a specialist," he said, in defence, to Ruth. "Nor am I going to try to be a specialist. There are too many special fields for any one man, in a whole lifetime, to master a tithe of them. I must pursue general knowledge. When I need the work of specialists, I shall refer to their books."“我不是专家，”他向鲁思辩解道，“我也没打算去当专家。专业学问太多了，无论谁一辈子也掌握不了其中的十分之一。我必须去学一般的知识。在我需要专家们的专业知识时，我就去参考一下他们的书。”

"But that is not like having the knowledge yourself," she protested.“但是那跟你自己掌握了知识不一样。”她提出异议。

"But it is unnecessary to have it. We profit from the work of the specialists. That's what they are for. When I came in, I noticed the chimney-sweeps at work. They're specialists, and when they get done, you will enjoy clean chimneys without knowing anything about the construction of chimneys."“可自己掌握那些知识没什么必要。我们从专家的工作里得到了好处。这就是他们的用处。我进屋的时候注意到扫烟囱的人在干活。他们就是专家，他们把活干完了，你就能享受到干净的烟囱，虽然你压根儿不知道烟囱的结构。

"That's far-fetched, I am afraid.”“那也太牵强了，我怕是。”

She looked at him curiously, and he felt a reproach in her gaze and manner. But he was convinced of the rightness of his position.

她用探询的目光看着他，他从她的凝视和态度中感觉到了责备的意思。但他确信自己的意见是对的。

"All thinkers on general subjects, the greatest minds in the world, in fact, rely on the specialists. Herbert Spencer did that. He generalized upon the findings of thousands of investigators. He would have had to live a thousand lives in order to do it all himself. And so with Darwin. He took advantage of all that had been learned by the florists and cattle-breeders.”“所有探究一般问题的思想家，这些世界上最伟大的思想家，实际上都要依靠专家。赫伯特·斯潘塞也是如此。他将成千上万个调查者的发现归纳了起来。要是靠他自己去做，他估计得活上一千年才行。达尔文也是一样。他利用了花卉研究者和畜牧专家的知识。”

"You're right, Martin," Olney said. "You know what you're after, and Ruth doesn't. She doesn't know what she is after for herself even."“你说得对，马丁。”奥尔尼说，“你知道自己在追求什么，而鲁思却不知道。她甚至都不知道要为自己追求点什么。”

“—Oh, yes," Olney rushed on, heading off her objection, "I know you call it general culture. But it doesn't matter what you study if you want general culture. You can study French, or you can study German, or cut them both out and study Esperanto, you'll get the culture tone just the same. You can study Greek or Latin, too, for the same purpose, though it will never be any use to you. It will be culture, though. Why, Ruth studied Saxon, became clever in it,—that was two years ago,—and all that she remembers of it now is 'Whan that sweet Aprile with his schowers soote'—isn't that the way it goes?"“——啊，对，”奥尼尔急匆匆地继续说，拦住了她的反对，“我知道你把它叫做一般的文化素养。可缺少一般的文化素养对你所要做的学问没什么影响。你可以学法语，或者学德语，或者两个都不学，去学世界语，你的文化格调还是一样。为了同一个目的，你也可以去学希腊语或者拉丁语，尽管它对你没什么用处。即便如此，这也是文化素养。对了，鲁思学过撒克逊语，学得还挺好——这是两年前的事了——而她现在就只记得‘正当馨香的四月带来了芬芳的阵雨’——是这样的吧？

"But it's given you the culture tone just the same," he laughed, again heading her off. "I know. We were in the same classes."

但它还是形成了你的文学格调。”他笑着，又一次阻止了她插话。“我知道的。我们那时同班。”

"But you speak of culture as if it should be a means to something," Ruth cried out. Her eyes were flashing, and in her cheeks were two spots of color. "Culture is the end in itself."“可你把文化当作是实现某种目的的手段。”鲁思大声叫道。她的双眼闪着光，脸颊浮起两团红晕。“文化素养自身就是目的。”

"But that is not what Martin wants."“但那不是马丁所需要的。”

"How do you know?"“你怎么知道不是？”

"What do you want, Martin?"Olney demanded, turning squarely upon him.“你需要什么，马丁？”奥尔尼问道，转过身正对着他。

Martin felt very uncomfortable, and looked entreaty at Ruth.

马丁感到很不自在，用恳切的目光看着鲁思。

"Yes, what do you want?"Ruth asked. "That will settle it."“对啊，你需要什么？”鲁思问道，“你回答了，问题也就解决了。”

"Yes, of course, I want culture," Martin faltered. "I love beauty, and culture will give me a finer and keener appreciation of beauty."“是的，当然喽，我需要文化素养。”马丁支吾道。“我喜爱美，而文化素养能让我更细致、更敏锐地欣赏美。”

She nodded her head and looked triumph.

她点了点头，一脸得意。

"Rot, and you know it," was Olney's comment. "Martin's after career, not culture. It just happens that culture, in his case, is incidental to career. If he wanted to be a chemist, culture would be unnecessary. Martin wants to write, but he's afraid to say so because it will put you in the wrong."“胡扯，这你知道。”奥尔尼如是评论，“马丁追求的是事业，而不是文化素养。只不过对他来说，恰巧文化素养是事业附带需要。如果他想要成为一个化学家，文化素养就是多余的了。马丁想要的是写作，不过害怕把这个说出来，因为这样会证明你是错的。”

"And why does Martin want to write?"he went on. "Because he isn't rolling in wealth. Why do you fill your head with Saxon and general culture? Because you don't have to make your way in the world. Your father sees to that. He buys your clothes for you, and all the rest. What rotten good is our education, yours and mine and Arthur's and Norman's? We're soaked in general culture, and if our daddies went broke to-day, we'd be falling down to-morrow on teachers' examinations. The best job you could get, Ruth, would be a country school or music teacher in a girls' boarding-school.”“那么为什么马丁想要写作呢？”他继续往下说，“因为他并没有万贯家财。为什么你要拿撒克逊语和普通的文化知识往你脑子里塞呢？因为你不用在这个世界里闯荡。你父亲都给你安排好了。他给你买衣服，还有别的一切。我们的教育，你的、我的、阿瑟的和诺曼的教育，都有什么用呢！我们浸泡在普通文化知识里，如果我们的爸爸今天破产了，我们明天就会落难到要去参加教师考试的地步。你能得到的最好的工作，鲁思，就是去当一个乡村教师或是到女子寄宿学校教音乐。

"And pray what would you do?"she asked.“那么请问你又会去干什么呢？”她问道。

"Not a blessed thing. I could earn a dollar and a half a day, common labor, and I might get in as instructor in Hanley's cramming joint—I say might, mind you, and I might be chucked out at the end of the week for sheer inability.”“什么都干不了。我只能干点普通的体力活，一天挣个一块半，也有可能去汉利的填鸭式学校当个指导员——我说的是可能，请注意——一星期之后我还可能因为完全没什么本事而被赶走。

Martin followed the discussion closely, and while he was convinced that Olney was right, he resented the rather cavalier treatment he accorded Ruth. A new conception of love formed in his mind as he listened. Reason had nothing to do with love. It mattered not whether the woman he loved reasoned correctly or incorrectly. Love was above reason. If it just happened that she did not fully appreciate his necessity for a career, that did not make her a bit less lovable. She was all lovable, and what she thought had nothing to do with her lovableness.

马丁专注地听着这场讨论，虽然他承认奥尔尼是对的，却讨厌他对鲁思那相当轻慢的态度。他听着听着，心里便对爱情产生了一种新的观念。理智与爱情没有关系。他爱的那个女人思考得对还是错都没什么关系。爱情高于理智。如果恰好她不能充分认识到他追求事业的必要性，这也不会让她的可爱减少一分。她就是那么可爱，她思考什么与她的可爱无关。

"What's that?"he replied to a question from Olney that broke in upon his train of thought.“什么？”他应道，刚才奥尔尼问他一个问题打断了他的思路。

"I was saying that I hoped you wouldn't be fool enough to tackle Latin."“我刚是说，希望你不会笨到去啃拉丁语。”

"But Latin is more than culture," Ruth broke in. "It is equipment."“但拉丁语更甚于文化素养，”鲁思插话，“它是种配备。”

"Well, are you going to tackle it?"Olney persisted.“那，你打算去啃拉丁语么？”奥尔尼坚持问道。

Martin was sore beset. He could see that Ruth was hanging eagerly upon his answer.

马丁被逼得很痛苦。他看得出来鲁思在焦急地等着他的回答。

"I am afraid I won't have time," he said finally. "I'd like to, but I won't have time."“恐怕我没什么时间。”他终于说，“我很想学，但我没那个时间。”

"You see, Martin's not seeking culture," Olney exulted. "He's trying to get somewhere, to do something."“你看吧，马丁追求的不是文化素养。”奥尔尼得意洋洋，“他是想达到某个目的，成就某些事情。”

"Oh, but it's mental training. It's mind discipline. It's what makes disciplined minds."Ruth looked expectantly at Martin, as if waiting for him to change his judgment. "You know, the foot-ball players have to train before the big game. And that is what Latin does for the thinker. It trains.”“噢，可那是对头脑的培养，是对思想的锻炼，能造就有训练的心智。”鲁思期待地看着马丁，仿佛等待着他改变意见。“你知道的，橄榄球运动员在大赛之前都得受训。那便是拉丁语对思想家的用处。它锻炼思维。”

"Rot and bosh! That's what they told us when we were kids. But there is one thing they didn't tell us then. They let us find it out for ourselves afterwards."Olney paused for effect, then added, "And what they didn't tell us was that every gentleman should have studied Latin, but that no gentleman should know Latin."“胡说八道！那是我们还是小孩子的时候大人告诉我们的东西。不过有一件事情他们那时没有告诉我们。他们让我们长大后自己去寻找出来。”奥尔尼顿了顿以增强效果，然后说道：“他们没有告诉我们的就是：每个有身份的人都应该学拉丁语，但其实没有人真的懂拉丁语。

"Now that's unfair," Ruth cried. "I knew you were turning the conversation just in order to get off something."“这就不太公道了，”鲁思嚷道，“我就知道你把话题引开就是要耍小聪明。”

"It's clever all right," was the retort, "but it's fair, too. The only men who know their Latin are the apothecaries, the lawyers, and the Latin professors. And if Martin wants to be one of them, I miss my guess. But what's all that got to do with Herbert Spencer anyway? Martin's just discovered Spencer, and he's wild over him. Why? Because Spencer is taking him somewhere. Spencer couldn't take me anywhere, nor you. We haven't got anywhere to go. You'll get married some day, and I'll have nothing to do but keep track of the lawyers and business agents who will take care of the money my father's going to leave me."“小聪明又怎样，”奥尔尼反驳道，“可这还是公道的。懂拉丁语的就只有药剂师、律师跟拉丁文老师。要是马丁想要当个什么师，那就算是我猜错了。但那些又怎么能跟赫伯特·斯潘塞扯上什么关系？马丁刚刚发现了斯潘塞，对他很狂热。为什么？因为斯潘塞把他带到了某种境界。斯潘塞没能把我、也没能把你带到任何地方。我们都到不了什么境界。你总有一天会嫁人，而我也只用盯牢我的律师和业务代理人就成了，他们会看管好我父亲将来要给我留下的钱。”

Onley got up to go, but turned at the door and delivered a parting shot.

奥尔尼站起身来走出去，到了门口那又杀了个回马枪。

"You leave Martin alone, Ruth. He knows what's best for himself. Look at what he's done already. He makes me sick sometimes, sick and ashamed of myself. He knows more now about the world, and life, and man's place, and all the rest, than Arthur, or Norman, or I, or you, too, for that matter, and in spite of all our Latin, and French, and Saxon, and culture."“你别去打扰马丁了，鲁思。他明白什么对他是最好的。看看他的成就。他有时让我烦，搞得我心烦意乱却又自愧不如。他现在对于世界、生活、人的地位以及所有其他问题知道得比阿瑟、诺曼或者你我（就这个方面来说）都要多，尽管我们懂拉丁语、法语、撒克逊语还有文化素养所有这些东西。”

"But Ruth is my teacher," Martin answered chivalrously. "She is responsible for what little I have learned."“但鲁思是我的老师。”马丁挺身而出，“我学到了那点东西还是多亏了她。”

"Rats!" Olney looked at Ruth, and his expression was malicious.“瞎扯！”奥尔尼看着鲁思，表情阴沉。

"I suppose you'll be telling me next that you read Spencer on her recommendation—only you didn't. And she doesn't know anything more about Darwin and evolution than I do about King Solomon's mines. What's that jawbreaker definition about something or other, of Spencer's, that you sprang on us the other day—that indefinite, incoherent homogeneity thing? Spring it on her, and see if she understands a word of it. That isn't culture, you see. Well, tra la, and if you tackle Latin, Martin, I won't have any respect for you."“我估计你还要跟我说她推荐你读斯潘塞的——还好你没这么说。她对达尔文和进化论的了解不比我对所罗门王的宝藏的了解多。那天你给我们丢了个斯潘塞对什么东西下的那个拗口的定义——什么不确定不连贯的同质之类的，怎么说来着？丢给她试试，看她搞得懂一个字不。这不是文化素养吧，你看。啦啦啦，你要是去啃拉丁语，马丁，我就不会尊重你了。

And all the while, interested in the discussion, Martin had been aware of an irk in it as well. It was about studies and lessons, dealing with the rudiments of knowledge, and the schoolboyish tone of it conflicted with the big things that were stirring in him—with the grip upon life that was even then crooking his fingers like eagle's talons, with the cosmic thrills that made him ache, and with the inchoate consciousness of mastery of it all. He likened himself to a poet, wrecked on the shores of a strange land, filled with power of beauty, stumbling and stammering and vainly trying to sing in the rough, barbaric tongue of his brethren in the new land. And so with him. He was alive, painfully alive, to the great universal things, and yet he was compelled to potter and grope among schoolboy topics and debate whether or not he should study Latin.

马丁一直觉得，这场讨论虽然有趣，但却也有令人不快的地方。讨论围绕着学习和功课，涉及到基础知识，而谈论这个话题的这种学生娃儿式的腔调跟他壮志满怀的伟大事业有矛盾——即便此时他的手指像鹰爪一样紧紧地攥住了生活，心也让浩瀚的激情撞击得很痛，而他也开始意识到自己能完全掌控学习了。他将自己比作一个诗人，遇海难而流落到异国的海岸，心里充满着美的力量，想用新土地上的同胞们那粗俗野蛮的语言唱歌，却结结巴巴徒劳无功。他自己也是这样。对于重大的问题他通常敏感，敏感得让他痛苦，而他却被迫在学生娃儿的话题上闲扯瞎想，讨论他应不应该学拉丁语。

"What in hell has Latin to do with it?" he demanded before his mirror that night. "I wish dead people would stay dead. Why should I and the beauty in me be ruled by the dead? Beauty is alive and everlasting. Languages come and go. They are the dust of the dead."“拉丁语和我的理想究竟有什么关系？”那晚他在镜子面前问道， “我希望死人就是死了。为什么我和我心中的美要让死人来统治？美是生气勃勃、永恒持久的。语言却生灭无常。它们只是死人的灰烬。

And his next thought was that he had been phrasing his ideas very well, and he went to bed wondering why he could not talk in similar fashion when he was with Ruth. He was only a schoolboy, with a schoolboy's tongue, when he was in her presence.

他立刻觉得他表达自己想法所用的措辞很精彩，上了床就在想他为什么不能用相同的方式和鲁思交谈。在她面前，他只不过是个学生，用着学生似的腔调。

"Give me time," he said aloud. "Only give me time."“给我时间，”他大声说道，“只要能给我时间。”

Time! Time! Time! was his unending plaint.

时间！时间！时间！是他永不休止的哀叹。

CHAPTER XIV

第十四章

It was not because of Olney, but in spite of Ruth, and his love for Ruth, that he finally decided not to take up Latin. His money meant time. There was so much that was more important than Latin, so many studies that clamored with imperious voices. And he must write. He must earn money. He had had no acceptances. Twoscore of manuscripts were travelling the endless round of the magazines. How did the others do it? He spent long hours in the free reading-room, going over what others had written, studying their work eagerly and critically, comparing it with his own, and wondering, wondering, about the secret trick they had discovered which enabled them to sell their work.

他最终决定不去学拉丁语了，不是因为奥尔尼，也不顾鲁思和自己对她的爱了。他的金钱就意味着时间。有许许多多东西比拉丁语更重要，也有许许多多学问用迫切的声音喧闹着。他必须写作。他得要挣钱。他的稿子没人录用。四十几篇稿件没完没了地在各家杂志间来回旅行。其他作家是怎么做的？他花了大把时间在免费阅览室里，仔细看别的作家出版的东西，急切地、批判地研究他们的作品，把它们跟自己写的文章比较，猜想着，猜想着他们所发现的、能让自己的稿子卖出去的窍门。

He was amazed at the immense amount of printed stuff that was dead. No light, no life, no color, was shot through it. There was no breath of life in it, and yet it sold, at two cents a word, twenty dollars a thousand—the newspaper clipping had said so. He was puzzled by countless short stories, written lightly and cleverly he confessed, but without vitality or reality. Life was so strange and wonderful, filled with an immensity of problems, of dreams, and of heroic toils, and yet these stories dealt only with the commonplaces of life. He felt the stress and strain of life, its fevers and sweats and wild insurgences—surely this was the stuff to write about! He wanted to glorify the leaders of forlorn hopes, the mad lovers, the giants that fought under stress and strain, amid terror and tragedy, making life crackle with the strength of their endeavor. And yet the magazine short stories seemed intent on glorifying the Mr. Butlers, the sordid dollar-chasers, and the commonplace little love affairs of commonplace little men and women. Was it because the editors of the magazines were commonplace? he demanded. Or were they afraid of life, these writers and editors and readers?

他对死气沉沉的出版物的庞大数量感到讶异。这些作品没透射出丝毫的光芒、生命或色彩。它们没有生命的呼吸，然而还是卖出去了，一个字两分钱，一千字二十块——剪报上这么说。他对不计其数的短篇小说感到困惑，他承认它们写得轻松又巧妙，但是没有任何生命力或现实感。生命是如此奇异而美妙，充满了无数的问题、梦想和英勇行为，然而这些小说却只写生活的平庸之处。他感觉到生活的压力和紧张，生活的狂热、汗水和剧变——无疑这才是该写的东西！他想要赞扬失去凄凉希望的领导者，爱得疯狂的情人，顶着压力和紧张在恐怖和悲剧中战斗，用他们的努力使生充满生气的巨人。然而杂志上的短篇小说却似乎专注于吹捧巴特勒先生这种人，利欲熏心的逐利之徒以及平庸卑微男女之间那平庸卑微的爱情。这是因为杂志社的编辑就是平庸之辈么？他问道。又或者是因为作家、编辑和读者都害怕生活？

But his chief trouble was that he did not know any editors or writers. And not merely did he not know any writers, but he did not know anybody who had ever attempted to write. There was nobody to tell him, to hint to him, to give him the least word of advice. He began to doubt that editors were real men. They seemed cogs in a machine. That was what it was, a machine. He poured his soul into stories, articles, and poems, and intrusted them to the machine. He folded them just so, put the proper stamps inside the long envelope along with the manuscript, sealed the envelope, put more stamps outside, and dropped it into the mail-box. It travelled across the continent, and after a certain lapse of time the postman returned him the manuscript in another long envelope, on the outside of which were the stamps he had enclosed. There was no human editor at the other end, but a mere cunning arrangement of cogs that changed the manuscript from one envelope to another and stuck on the stamps. It was like the slot machines wherein one dropped pennies, and, with a metallic whirl of machinery had delivered to him a stick of chewing-gum or a tablet of chocolate. It depended upon which slot one dropped the penny in, whether he got chocolate or gum. And so with the editorial machine. One slot brought checks and the other brought rejection slips. So far he had found only the latter slot.

但是他的首要烦恼在于他并不认识任何编辑或作家。不光是不认识作家，他连曾尝试写作的人都不认识。没有人来告诉他，提醒他，给他哪怕只言片语的忠告。他开始怀疑编辑是不是真实存在的人。他们就好像是机器里的齿轮。就是那样，一台机器。他将自己的灵魂倾注到小说、文章和诗歌里，然后把它们交付给了机器。他像这样折好它们，把适量的邮票连同稿件一起装进了长信封，封好，在外头又贴上更多的邮票，然后把信扔进邮筒里。它跨越大陆，然后过了一段时间邮递员交还给他装在另一个长信封里的稿件，信封外头贴着他之前装好寄去的邮票。在另一端并没有人类编辑，只是一台巧妙的齿轮组合，把稿子从一个信封换到另一个信封里，然后粘上邮票。它跟自动售货机一样，往里面投进硬币，机器金属般一阵旋转，然后送出来一包口香糖或是一块巧克力。得到的是巧克力还是口香糖取决于硬币投进了哪个投币口。编辑机器也是这样。一个投币口送出支票，另一个送出的则是退稿条。目前为止他只找到了送出退稿条的那个投币口。

It was the rejection slips that completed the horrible machinelikeness of the process. These slips were printed in stereotyped forms and he had received hundreds of them—as many as a dozen or more on each of his earlier manuscripts. If he had received one line, one personal line, along with one rejection of all his rejections, he would have been cheered. But not one editor had given that proof of existence. And he could conclude only that there were no warm human men at the other end, only mere cogs, well oiled and running beautifully in the machine.

正是退稿条完成了这个可怕的机器似的过程。这些条子按着千篇一律的格式印好，他已经收到过好几百张了——他早期的稿件每份都有一打或更多的退稿条。如果他所有的退稿条里有一份上面写了一行字，说了点私人的话的一行字，他也会感到欣慰。但没有一个编辑证明过有那种可能性。他只能总结说另一端没有温暖的、带着人情味的人类，只有一堆上好了油在机器里漂亮运转着的齿轮。

He was a good fighter, whole-souled and stubborn, and he would have been content to continue feeding the machine for years; but he was bleeding to death, and not years but weeks would determine the fight. Each week his board bill brought him nearer destruction, while the postage on forty manuscripts bled him almost as severely. He no longer bought books, and he economized in petty ways and sought to delay the inevitable end; though he did not know how to economize, and brought the end nearer by a week when he gave his sister Marian five dollars for a dress.

他是一个优秀的斗士，全心全意，顽强执着，甘愿长年累月往机器里投喂稿件；但他在流着血，快要死了，用不了几年，只需几个星期战斗的结果就能见分晓。他每个星期的食宿费账单都把他往毁灭推近一步，而四十份稿件的邮费几乎同样严重地让他大出血。他不再买书了，还在各种琐碎的地方节约，以求推迟那不可避免的结局；但他不知道怎么节约，又给了妹妹玛丽安五块钱去买一件衣服，结果使结局提前了一个星期。

He struggled in the dark, without advice, without encouragement, and in the teeth of discouragement. Even Gertrude was beginning to look askance. At first she had tolerated with sisterly fondness what she conceived to be his foolishness; but now, out of sisterly solicitude, she grew anxious. To her it seemed that his foolishness was becoming a madness. Martin knew this and suffered more keenly from it than from the open and nagging contempt of Bernard Higginbotham. Martin had faith in himself, but he was alone in this faith. Not even Ruth had faith. She had wanted him to devote himself to study, and, though she had not openly disapproved of his writing, she had never approved.

他在黑暗中奋斗，没有人给他忠告，也没有人给他鼓励，他挣扎在挫败的齿缝里。连格特鲁德也开始怀疑他。刚开始她带着姐姐般的溺爱心情容忍着他，以为那是他一时犯傻；但是现在，出于姐姐般的关怀，她着急起来了。在她看来，他的傻劲似乎正变成一种疯狂。马丁明白这个，心里感到比伯纳德·希金博特姆唠唠叨叨的公开挖苦还要让他难受。马丁对自己有信心，但也只有他对他自己有信心。就连鲁思也没有那份信心。她曾经要他专注于学习中，虽然没有明确反对他写作，但也从没有表示过赞成。

He had never offered to show her his work. A fastidious delicacy had prevented him. Besides, she had been studying heavily at the university, and he felt averse to robbing her of her time. But when she had taken her degree, she asked him herself to let her see something of what he had been doing. Martin was elated and diffident. Here was a judge. She was a bachelor of arts. She had studied literature under skilled instructors. Perhaps the editors were capable judges, too. But she would be different from them. She would not hand him a stereotyped rejection slip, nor would she inform him that lack of preference for his work did not necessarily imply lack of merit in his work. She would talk, a warm human being, in her quick, bright way, and, most important of all, she would catch glimpses of the real Martin Eden. In his work she would discern what his heart and soul were like, and she would come to understand something, a little something, of the stuff of his dreams and the strength of his power.

他从来没有主动给鲁思看他的作品。一种过分的敏感阻止了他这么做。再说，她在大学里的功课很重，他不愿意剥夺她的时间。不过在她拿到学位之后，她自己要求他给她看一些他的作品。马丁兴高采烈，却信心不足。这会儿有了个裁判员了。她是个文学士。她曾在有经验的讲师指导下研究过文学。可能编辑也是有能力的裁判员。但是她和他们不一样。她不会交给他一张千篇一律的退稿条，也不会告诉他作品没有被采用未必就意味着它们没有闪光点。她是个热诚的人，会说话，以她那种伶俐而聪颖的方式说话，最重要的是，她能够隐约看到真正的马丁·伊登。她能从他的作品里辨别出他的心智和灵魂是什么样子的，并理解到某些东西，理解一点点他的梦想和他的能力。

Martin gathered together a number of carbon copies of his short stories, hesitated a moment, then added his "Sea Lyrics."They mounted their wheels on a late June afternoon and rode for the hills. It was the second time he had been out with her alone, and as they rode along through the balmy warmth, just chilled by the sea-breeze to refreshing coolness, he was profoundly impressed by the fact that it was a very beautiful and well-ordered world and that it was good to be alive and to love. They left their wheels by the roadside and climbed to the brown top of an open knoll where the sunburnt grass breathed a harvest breath of dry sweetness and content.

马丁拿了几篇短篇小说的复写本，犹豫了一下，又加上了他的《海上抒情诗》。在六月下旬的一天下午，他们骑着自行车去丘陵地区。这是他第二次同她一起单独外出。路上温和的空气让海风给冷却了，变得清新凉爽，两人骑车前进着，这时他感触颇深，这是一个非常美丽而且秩序井然的世界，活着并恋爱着真是美好。他们把自行车放在了路边，爬到了一个开阔的褐色小丘顶上，那里被太阳晒干了的草心满意足地散发出收获季节的那种干燥香甜的气息。

"Its work is done," Martin said, as they seated themselves, she upon his coat, and he sprawling close to the warm earth. He sniffed the sweetness of the tawny grass, which entered his brain and set his thoughts whirling on from the particular to the universal. "It has achieved its reason for existence," he went on, patting the dry grass affectionately. "It quickened with ambition under the dreary downpour of last winter, fought the violent early spring, flowered, and lured the insects and the bees, scattered its seeds, squared itself with its duty and the world, and—”“草地的工作做完了。”马丁说。他们两坐了下来，鲁思坐在马丁的外套上，马丁则摊开四肢紧紧趴在暖烘烘的地上。他嗅了嗅这黄褐色的草的甜香，那香味进到了他的脑子，促使他的思绪从特殊到普遍来回旋转着。“它已经获得了它存在的理由，”他继续说，深情地轻拍着干枯的草，“在去年冬天凄凉的滂沱大雨中，它发了芽并立下了志向，同暴虐的早春作了斗争，然后开了花，吸引了虫子和蜜蜂，散播了自己的种子，履行了自己的义务，结清了对这个世界的债，于是——”

"Why do you always look at things with such dreadfully practical eyes?"she interrupted.“为什么你总是要用这种实际得可怕的眼光来看待事物？”她插嘴道。

"Because I've been studying evolution, I guess. It's only recently that I got my eyesight, if the truth were told."“我猜想，是因为我一直在研究进化论。说实话，我其实是最近才开始真正看见东西。”

"But it seems to me you lose sight of beauty by being so practical, that you destroy beauty like the boys who catch butterflies and rub the down off their beautiful wings."“但是在我看来你这么实际会忽视了美，会破坏掉美，就像小男孩捉住蝴蝶然后弄掉它美丽翅膀上的鳞粉一样。

He shook his head.

他摇了摇头。

"Beauty has significance, but I never knew its significance before. I just accepted beauty as something meaningless, as something that was just beautiful without rhyme or reason. I did not know anything about beauty. But now I know, or, rather, am just beginning to know. This grass is more beautiful to me now that I know why it is grass, and all the hidden chemistry of sun and rain and earth that makes it become grass. Why, there is romance in the life-history of any grass, yes, and adventure, too. The very thought of it stirs me. When I think of the play of force and matter, and all the tremendous struggle of it, I feel as if I could write an epic on the grass.“美是有意义的，但是我以前不知道它的意义是什么。我只把美看成没有意义的东西，觉得美就是美，毫无道理可言。我对美一无所知。不过现在我知道了，或者确切地说，我才刚刚开始知道。现在我明白了草是怎么变成草的，明白了形成草的阳光、雨水和泥土的隐秘化学作用，于是我便觉得草更加美丽了。没错，任何一叶草的生命史中都有自己的浪漫故事，是的，还有冒险经历。只要想到这些我便会心情激动。当我想到力和物质之间的相互作用，以及其中所有剧烈的斗争时，就觉得自己似乎能够写一首关于小草的史诗。

"How well you talk," she said absently, and he noted that she was looking at him in a searching way.“你说得多精彩呀。”她心不在焉地说。他注意到她正用探寻的眼光看着他。

He was all confusion and embarrassment on the instant, the blood flushing red on his neck and brow.

一瞬间他便慌乱无措、局促不安了，血涌了上来，他的脖子和额头刷地红了。

"I hope I am learning to talk," he stammered. "There seems to be so much in me I want to say. But it is all so big. I can't find ways to say what is really in me. Sometimes it seems to me that all the world, all life, everything, had taken up residence inside of me and was clamoring for me to be the spokesman. I feel—oh, I can't describe it—I feel the bigness of it, but when I speak, I babble like a little child. It is a great task to transmute feeling and sensation into speech, written or spoken, that will, in turn, in him who reads or listens, transmute itself back into the selfsame feeling and sensation. It is a lordly task. See, I bury my face in the grass, and the breath I draw in through my nostrils sets me quivering with a thousand thoughts and fancies. It is a breath of the universe I have breathed. I know song and laughter, and success and pain, and struggle and death; and I see visions that arise in my brain somehow out of the scent of the grass, and I would like to tell them to you, to the world. But how can I? My tongue is tied. I have tried, by the spoken word, just now, to describe to you the effect on me of the scent of the grass. But I have not succeeded. I have no more than hinted in awkward speech. My words seem gibberish to me. And yet I am stifled with desire to tell. Oh!—” he threw up his hands with a despairing gesture—"it is impossible! It is not understandable! It is incommunicable!"“我希望我是在学着说话，”他结结巴巴地说道，“似乎我有一大堆话想要说。可都是些大题目。我不知道该怎样来说出心里真正的感受。有时我觉得似乎整个世界、所有的生命、一切的一切都住在了我心中，叫嚷着要我做它们的代言人。我感觉到——啊，我无法描述出来——我感觉到了它的庞大，但一开口说话，却只能像个小孩那样咿咿呀呀。把情绪和感受转变成文字或口头上的言辞，能使读者或听者倒过来将它转化成他们心里完全相同的情绪和感受，这是一项艰巨的任务。这是一项高贵的任务。你看，我将自己的脸埋进了草里，吸进的气息钻过鼻孔，使我浮想联翩，浑身战栗。我呼吸到的是宇宙的气息。我知道歌声和笑声、成功和痛苦、斗争和死亡；草的气味不知怎的使我的头脑中出现了种种幻象，我看见了这些幻象，想要把这一切告诉你，告诉这个世界。但是我怎样才可以做到？我的舌头打结了。就在刚才，我试着用言语来向你描绘草的气味对我产生的影响。可我没有成功。我只是用笨拙的言语勾勒了一下。我觉得自己说出来的似乎都是胡言乱语。然而我心里憋得慌，渴望表达。噢！——”他举起双手，做了个绝望的手势——“我不可能做到！别人不理解！没办法沟通！”

"But you do talk well," she insisted. "Just think how you have improved in the short time I have known you. Mr. Butler is a noted public speaker. He is always asked by the State Committee to go out on stump during campaign. Yet you talked just as well as he the other night at dinner. Only he was more controlled. You get too excited; but you will get over that with practice. Why, you would make a good public speaker. You can go far—if you want to. You are masterly. You can lead men, I am sure, and there is no reason why you should not succeed at anything you set your hand to, just as you have succeeded with grammar. You would make a good lawyer. You should shine in politics. There is nothing to prevent you from making as great a success as Mr. Butler has made. And minus the dyspepsia," she added with a smile.“但你确实说得很好。”她坚持说，“你想想，在我认识你之后的这段短暂时间里，你进步了多大！巴特勒先生是个著名的演说家。选举期间国家委员会经常要他到各地区演说。而你说得就和他那晚在宴会上说得一样精彩。只是他更克制。你则太激动了；不过你多说几回就会好的。哎，你会成为一个优秀的演说家的。你可以大有作为——只要你愿意干。你是出类拔萃的。我相信你能够领导人民，只要是你想干的事没理由不会成功，你在语法上取得的成功就是个例子。你能够成为一个优秀的律师。你应该在政治上大放异彩。没有东西能够阻止你取得和巴特勒先生一样伟大的成功。而且还不会消化不良。”她微笑着补上了最后一句。

They talked on; she, in her gently persistent way, returning always to the need of thorough grounding in education and to the advantages of Latin as part of the foundation for any career. She drew her ideal of the successful man, and it was largely in her father's image, with a few unmistakable lines and touches of color from the image of Mr. Butler. He listened eagerly, with receptive ears, lying on his back and looking up and joying in each movement of her lips as she talked. But his brain was not receptive. There was nothing alluring in the pictures she drew, and he was aware of a dull pain of disappointment and of a sharper ache of love for her. In all she said there was no mention of his writing, and the manuscripts he had brought to read lay neglected on the ground.

他们继续谈下去；她总是温和地坚持把话题拉回到一个问题上：教育需要全面打好基础，拉丁文作为基础的一部分对从事任何事业都有所好处。她描绘了她理想中的成功人士，大体上是她父亲的形象，其中明显夹杂着一丝半缕来自巴特勒先生形象的色彩。他竖起耳朵专注地听着，仰躺在地上抬起头看着她，欣赏着她说话时双唇的每一个动作。但他的脑子却装不进去东西。她所描绘的画面一点儿也不迷人，他隐隐感到了失望的痛苦，而对她的爱使那痛苦更加刻骨。她所说的话里没有一个字提及他的写作，他带过来念的稿件躺在地上遭到冷落。

At last, in a pause, he glanced at the sun, measured its height above the horizon, and suggested his manuscripts by picking them up.

终于，谈话暂停了一会儿，他瞥了一眼太阳，估量了一下它到地平线的距离，然后拿起了稿子作为一种暗示。

"I had forgotten," she said quickly."And I am so anxious to hear."“我给忘了，”她急忙说道，“我很想听呢！”

He read to her a story, one that he flattered himself was among his very best. He called it "The Wine of Life," and the wine of it, that had stolen into his brain when he wrote it, stole into his brain now as he read it. There was a certain magic in the original conception, and he had adorned it with more magic of phrase and touch. All the old fire

试读结束[说明：试读内容隐藏了图片]

下载完整电子书