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坎特维尔的幽灵——奥斯卡·王尔德短篇小说选

没有秘密的斯芬克斯|THE SPHINX WITHOUT A SECRET

属类： 双语小说 【分类】双语小说 -[作者: 王尔德] 阅读：[17578]
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——一幅蚀刻版画

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An Etching

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一天下午，我正坐在和平咖啡馆外面，望着巴黎生活的光鲜与寒酸，一边喝着苦艾酒，一边对从我面前经过的这幅荣华与贫困交织的图景感到惊奇，这时我听到有人叫我的名字。我转过身，看到是默奇森勋爵。将近十年前，我们在一起上过大学。从那以来，我们没有见过面，所以我很高兴跟他再次相逢，我们热情握手。在牛津，我们曾经是要好的朋友。我当时非常喜欢他，他是那么潇洒漂亮、意气风发，那么值得尊敬。过去我们经常说，他要不是总说真话，就会是最出色的伙伴，但我觉得我们实际上格外佩服他的坦率。我发现他改变了好多。他一副焦虑困惑的样子，似乎对某件事儿疑神疑鬼。我觉得这不可能是现代的多疑癖，因为默奇森是最坚定的保守党人，对参议院的信仰就像对《摩西五经》的信仰一样坚定。于是，我得出了结论，其原因在于一个女人，就问他结没结婚。

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One afternoon I was sitting outside the Cafe de la Paix, watching the splendour and shabbiness of Parisian life, and wondering over my vermouth at the strange panorama of pride and poverty that was passing before me, when I heard some one call my name. I turned round and saw Lord Murchison. We had not met since we had been at college together, nearly ten years before, so I was delighted to come across him again, and we shook hands warmly. At Oxford we had been great friends. I had liked him immensely, he was so handsome, so high-spirited, and so honourable. We used to say of him that he would be the best of fellows, if he did not always speak the truth, but I think we really admired him all the more for his frankness. I found him a good deal changed. He looked anxious and puzzled, and seemed to be in doubt about something. I felt it could not be modern scepticism, for Murchison was the stoutest of Tories, and believed in the Pentateuch as firmly as he believed in the House of Peers; so I concluded that it was a woman, and asked him if he was married yet.

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“我对女人还不够了解。”他答道。

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“I don’t understand women well enough,” he answered.

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“我亲爱的杰拉德，”我说，“女人是要被爱的，而不是要被了解的。”

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“My dear Gerald,” I said, “women are meant to be loved, not to be understood.”

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“如果不能信任，我就没法去爱。”他答道。

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“I cannot love where I cannot trust,” he replied.

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“杰拉德，我相信你在生活中有一个秘密，”我大声说道，“告诉我是怎么回事。”

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“I believe you have a mystery in your life, Gerald,” I exclaimed; “tell me about it.”

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“我们坐车去兜风吧，”他回答说，“这里太挤了。不，不是黄车，其他任何颜色都可以——瞧，那辆深绿色的就行。”不一会儿，我们顺着林荫大道朝马德琳教堂方向一路驶去。

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“Let us go for a drive,” he answered, “it is too crowded here. No, not a yellow carriage, any other colour——there, that dark green one will do;” and in a few moments we were trotting down the boulevard in the direction of the Madeleine.

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“我们要到哪里去？”我问。

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“Where shall we go to?” I said.

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“噢，你喜欢去哪里就去哪里！”他回答道，“去布洛涅森林的餐厅。我们去那里吃饭，你要把自己所有的一切都告诉我。”

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“Oh, anywhere you like!” he answered——“to the restaurant in the Bois; we will dine there, and you shall tell me all about yourself.”

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“我想先听听你的情况，”我说，“把你的秘密告诉我。”

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“I want to hear about you first,” I said. “Tell me your mystery.”

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他从口袋里掏出一只带有小银扣钩的摩洛哥羊皮盒子递给我。我打开盒子，里面有一张女人的照片。细高的身材，迷蒙的大眼，松散的头发，有一种奇异之美。她看上去仿佛有一双通灵般的眼睛，身上裹着昂贵的皮衣。

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He took from his pocket a little silver-clasped morocco case, and handed it to me. I opened it. Inside there was the photograph of a woman. She was tall and slight, and strangely picturesque with her large vague eyes and loosened hair. She looked like a clairvoyante, and was wrapped in rich furs.

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“你觉得那张脸怎么样？”他问，“它看上去坦诚吗？”

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“What do you think of that face?” he said; “is it truthful?”

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我仔细观察。在我看来，这是一个藏有秘密的人的脸，但那个秘密是好是坏，我却说不上来。它的美是一种由许多秘密塑造成的美——实际上，那种美是心理上的美，而不是造型上的美——嘴唇刚好浮起的淡淡微笑过于微妙，称不上真正的甜美。

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I examined it carefully. It seemed to me the face of some one who had a secret, but whether that secret was good or evil I could not say. Its beauty was a beauty moulded out of many mysteries——the beauty, in fact, which is psychological, not plastic——and the faint smile that just played across the lips was far too subtle to be really sweet.

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“好吧，”他不耐烦地嚷道，“你以为如何？”

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“Well,” he cried impatiently, “what do you say?”

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“她是身穿黑貂皮的乔孔达，”我回答说，“告诉我有关她的所有情况。”

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“She is the Gioconda in sables,” I answered. “Let me know all about her.”

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“不是现在，”他说，“晚饭后吧。”随后他就开始谈论其他事情。

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“Not now,” he said; “after dinner,” and began to talk of other things.

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当侍者给我们送来了咖啡和香烟的时候，我提醒杰拉德记住自己的诺言。他从座位上站起身，在房间里走了两三个来回，然后一屁股坐进扶手椅，给我讲了下面的故事：

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When the waiter brought us our coffee and cigarettes I reminded Gerald of his promise. He rose from his seat, walked two or three times up and down the room, and, sinking into an arm-chair, told me the following story:

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“一天傍晚，”他说，“五点钟左右，我正沿着邦德街散步。当时，马车堵得要死，交通几乎瘫痪。靠近人行道停着一辆黄色小马车。出于这样或那样的原因，它吸引了我的注意。当我经过那里的时候，那张脸正从里往外看，就是今天下午我让你看的那张脸。它立刻就迷住了我。整个晚上，还有第二天整整一天，我都在不停地想着它。我徘徊在那条拥挤不堪的街上，窥视着每一辆马车，等待着那辆黄色马车。可是，我找不到我的陌生美人。最后，我渐渐地觉得她只是一场梦。大约一个星期后，我要跟德·拉斯提尔夫人共进晚餐。晚餐定于八点钟。但到了八点半，我们还在客厅里等待着。最后，仆人猛地打开了门，宣布阿尔罗伊夫人驾到。这就是我一直在寻找的那个女人。她慢悠悠地走了进来，看上去犹如一道镶着灰色花边的月光，而且，让我欢天喜地的是，她请我带她进去吃饭。我们坐下来之后，我十分直率地说道：‘我想，不久前，我在邦德街瞥见过你，阿尔罗伊夫人。’她脸色煞白，用很低的声音对我说：‘请不要这么大声说话，也许会让别人听到。’我对自己开了个差劲的头而感觉糟糕，接着就自顾自地谈起了法国戏剧这个话题。她说话很少，总是以相同的低沉悦耳的声音说话，好像她是怕有人在听似的。我热烈而又愚蠢地堕入了情网，包围着她的神秘莫名的气氛引起了我最强烈的好奇心。晚饭后不久，当她要离开的时候，我问她，我可不可以去拜访她。她犹豫了一会儿，环顾四周，看有没有人在我们周围，然后说道：‘可以，明天四点四十五分。’我恳求德·拉斯提尔夫人告诉我有关她的情况，但我所能了解到的一切就是，她是一位寡妇，在公园路有一座漂亮的房子。某个无聊的家伙开始从科学的角度就寡妇这个话题发表一番长篇大论，举例论证婚姻中优胜劣汰、适者生存，于是我就告辞回家去了。

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“One evening,” he said, “I was walking down Bond Street about five o’clock. There was a terrific crush of carriages, and the traffic was almost stopped. Close to the pavement was standing a little yellow brougham, which, for some reason or other, attracted my attention. As I passed by there looked out from it the face I showed you this afternoon. It fascinated me immediately. All that night I kept thinking of it, and all the next day. I wandered up and down that wretched Row, peering into every carriage, and waiting for the yellow brougham; but I could not find ma belle inconnue, and at last I began to think she was merely a dream. About a week afterwards I was dining with Madame de Rastail. Dinner was for eight o’clock; but at half-past eight we were still waiting in the drawing-room. Finally the servant threw open the door, and announced Lady Alroy. It was the woman I had been looking for. She came in very slowly, looking like a moonbeam in grey lace, and, to my intense delight, I was asked to take her in to dinner. After we had sat down, I remarked quite innocently, ‘I think I caught sight of you in Bond Street some time ago, Lady Alroy.’ She grew very pale, and said to me in a low voice, ‘Pray do not talk so loud; you may be overheard.’ I felt miserable at having made such a bad beginning, and plunged recklessly into the subject of the French plays. She spoke very little, always in the same low musical voice, and seemed as if she was afraid of some one listening. I fell passionately, stupidly in love, and the indefinable atmosphere of mystery that surrounded her excited my most ardent curiosity. When she was going away, which she did very soon after dinner, I asked her if I might call and see her. She hesitated for a moment, glanced round to see if any one was near us, and then said, ‘Yes; to-morrow at a quarter to five.’ I begged Madame de Rastail to tell me about her; but all that I could learn was that she was a widow with a beautiful house in Park Lane, and as some scientific bore began a dissertation on widows, as exemplifying the survival of the matrimonially fittest, I left and went home.

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“第二天，我准时到达了公园路，但管家告诉我说，阿尔罗伊夫人刚刚出去了。我闷闷不乐，百思不解，去了俱乐部，经过一番考虑后给她写了一封信，询问我可不可以获准改天下午去试试运气。我好几天没有得到回复，但最后收到了一个小纸条，上面写着她星期天下午四点钟会在家里，还有一段奇怪的附言，‘请不要再往这里给我写信。我见到你的时候会解释的。’星期天，她接待了我，真是千娇百媚。而当我要离开的时候，她恳求我说，如果我有机会再次给她写信，就要‘由格林大街惠特克图书馆诺克斯太太转交’。‘我不能在自己的房子里收信是有原因的。’她说。

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“The next day I arrived at Park Lane punctual to the moment, but was told by the butler that Lady Alroy had just gone out. I went down to the club quite unhappy and very much puzzled, and after long consideration wrote her a letter, asking if I might be allowed to try my chance some other afternoon. I had no answer for several days, but at last I got a little note saying she would be at home on Sunday at four, and with this extraordinary postscript: ‘Please do not write to me here again; I will explain when I see you.’ On Sunday she received me, and was perfectly charming; but when I was going away she begged of me, if I ever had occasion to write to her again, to address my letter to ‘Mrs. Knox, care of Whittaker’s Library, Green Street.’ ‘There are reasons,’ she said, ‘why I cannot receive letters in my own house.’

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“那一季，我见了她很多次，而神秘的气氛从来没有离开过她。有时候，我觉得她是在某个人的控制下，但看上去她是那样难以接近，我无法确定。这真是很难让我下任何结论，因为她就像人们在博物馆里看到的一种奇异水晶，时而清晰，时而模糊。最终，我决定娶她做我的妻子：她对我的所有拜访和寄给她的几封信都一直保密，这些我都厌倦透了。我往她给的图书馆地址给她写信，问她下星期一晚上六点钟能不能见我。她的回答是肯定的，我开心极了。我对她心醉神迷：尽管她很神秘，但我当时还是想——离明了一切的那天不远了。不，我爱的是这个女人本身。她有一个秘密困扰着我，使我发疯。为什么碰巧要让我撞上呢？”

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“All through the season I saw a great deal of her, and the atmosphere of mystery never left her. Sometimes I thought she was in the power of some man, but she looked so unapproachable that I could not believe it. It was really very difficult for me to come to any conclusion, for she was like one of those strange crystals that one sees in museums, which are at one moment clear, and at another clouded. At last I determined to ask her to be my wife: I was sick and tired of the incessant secrecy that she imposed on all my visits, and on the few letters I sent her. I wrote to her at the library to ask her if she could see me the following Monday at six. She answered yes, and I was in the seventh heaven of delight. I was infatuated with her: in spite of the mystery, I thought then——in consequence of it, I see now. No; it was the woman herself I loved. The mystery troubled me, maddened me. Why did chance put me in its track?”

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“这么说，是你发现了那个秘密？”我嚷道。

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“You discovered it, then?” I cried.

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“恐怕是这样，”他回答说，“你可以自己判断。”

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“I fear so,” he answered. “You can judge for yourself.”

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“星期一的时候，我跟我叔叔一起吃午饭，之后四点钟左右走到马里波恩路。你知道，我叔叔住在摄政公园。我想要去皮卡迪利大街，就穿过许多破旧的小街走了捷径。突然，我看到阿尔罗伊夫人出现在我面前，只见她戴着厚厚的面纱，走得很快。到达大街上的最后一座房子的时候，她走上台阶，掏出一把弹簧锁钥匙，自己走了进去。‘秘密就在这里。’我自言自语，匆匆往前，仔细察看了房子。这好像是一个出租房间的地方。门前的台阶上躺着她掉落的手帕。我把它捡起来，装进了口袋，随后开始考虑我应该做什么。我最后得出结论，我没有权利暗自监视她，就乘车去了俱乐部。到了六点钟，我去看望她。只见她躺在沙发上，身穿银色薄纱茶礼服，上面装饰着她喜欢的奇异月光石。她十分可爱。‘我很高兴见到你，’她说，‘我一整天都没出门。’我惊讶地盯着她，从口袋里掏出那块手帕，递给她。‘阿尔罗伊夫人，你今天下午把这个掉在了卡姆纳街上。’我平心静气地说。她恐惧地望着我，但没有接手帕。‘你当时在那里干什么？’我问。‘你有什么权利盘问我？’她反问道。‘是一个爱你的人的权利，’我回答说，‘我到这里是来请你做我的妻子的。’她把脸埋在双手里，泪如泉涌。‘你一定要告诉我。’我继续说道。她站起来，直视着我的脸，说道：‘默奇森勋爵，我没有什么可以告诉你的。’——‘你去会见某个人，’我嚷道，‘这就是你的秘密。’她脸色白得可怕，说道：‘我没有去会见任何人。’——‘难道你不能说实话吗？’我大声嚷道。‘我说的就是实话。’她答道。我发疯发狂，不知道当时说了什么，但我对她说了糟糕的话。最后，我冲出了那个房子。第二天，她给我写了一封信。我没有拆开就把信寄了回去，然后跟艾伦·科尔维尔启程前往挪威。一个月后，我返回巴黎，在《晨邮报》上看到的第一件事就是阿尔罗伊夫人的死讯。她在歌剧院受寒，五天后死于肺部充血。我把自己关起来，谁也不见。我曾经是如此爱她，我曾经那样疯狂地爱她。天哪！我曾经多么爱那个女人啊！”

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“When Monday came round I went to lunch with my uncle, and about four o’clock found myself in the Marylebone Road. My uncle, you know, lives in Regent’s Park. I wanted to get to Piccadilly, and took a short cut through a lot of shabby little streets. Suddenly I saw in front of me Lady Alroy, deeply veiled and walking very fast. On coming to the last house in the street, she went up the steps, took out a latch-key, and let herself in. ‘Here is the mystery,’ I said to myself; and I hurried on and examined the house. It seemed a sort of place for letting lodgings. On the doorstep lay her handkerchief, which she had dropped. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. Then I began to consider what I should do. I came to the conclusion that I had no right to spy on her, and I drove down to the club. At six I called to see her. She was lying on a sofa, in a tea-gown of silver tissue looped up by some strange moonstones that she always wore. She was looking quite lovely. ‘I am so glad to see you,’ she said; ‘I have not been out all day.’ I stared at her in amazement, and pulling the handkerchief out of my pocket, handed it to her. ‘You dropped this in Cumnor Street this afternoon, Lady Alroy,’ I said very calmly. She looked at me in terror, but made no attempt to take the handkerchief. ‘What were you doing there?’ I asked. ‘What right have you to question me?’ she answered. ‘The right of a man who loves you,’ I replied; ‘I came here to ask you to be my wife.’ She hid her face in her hands, and burst into floods of tears. ‘You must tell me,’ I continued. She stood up, and, looking me straight in the face, said, ‘Lord Murchison, there is nothing to tell you.’ —— ‘You went to meet some one,’ I cried; ‘this is your mystery.’ She grew dreadfully white, and said, ‘I went to meet no one.’ —— ‘Can’t you tell the truth?’ I exclaimed. ‘I have told it,’ she replied. I was mad, frantic; I don’t know what I said, but I said terrible things to her. Finally I rushed out of the house. She wrote me a letter the next day; I sent it back unopened, and started for Norway with Alan Colville. After a month I came back, and the first thing I saw in the Morning Post was the death of Lady Alroy. She had caught a chill at the Opera, and had died in five days of congestion of the lungs. I shut myself up and saw no one. I had loved her so much, I had loved her so madly. Good God! how I had loved that woman!”

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“你后来又去那条街的房子了吗？”我问。

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“You went to the street, to the house in it?” I said.

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“去了。”他回答。

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“Yes,” he answered.

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“有一天，我去了卡姆纳街。我没办法不去，疑问折磨着我。我敲了敲门，一位模样可敬的女士给我打开了门。我问她有没有房间出租。‘噢，先生，’她回答说，‘客厅应该可以出租。可是，我三个月都没有看到那位太太了，这房间都还欠着租金，不过你可以租。’——‘是这位太太吗？’我拿出照片说。‘毫无疑问，就是她，’她大声说道，‘她什么时候回来，先生？’‘这位太太死了。’我回答。‘噢，先生，真遗憾！’那个女人说，‘她是我最好的房客。她每星期付给我三几尼，只是不时地在我的客厅里坐坐。’——‘她在这里见过什么人吗？’我问道。可是，那个女人向我保证说情况不是这样，她总是独自前来，没有见过什么人。‘她到底在这里做什么呢？’我嚷道。‘先生，她只是坐在客厅里，看看书，有时喝喝茶。’那个女人回答说。我不知道该说什么，于是给了她一金镑就走了。现在，你认为这一切是什么意思？你难道不相信那个女人当时说的是真话吗？”

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“One day I went to Cumnor Street. I could not help it; I was tortured with doubt. I knocked at the door, and a respectable-looking woman opened it to me. I asked her if she had any rooms to let. ‘Well, sir,’ she replied, ‘the drawing-rooms are supposed to be let; but I have not seen the lady for three months, and as rent is owing on them, you can have them.’ —— ‘Is this the lady?’ I said, showing the photograph. ‘That’s her, sure enough,’ she exclaimed; ‘and when is she coming back, sir?’ —— ‘The lady is dead,’ I replied.‘Oh, sir, I hope not!’ said the woman; ‘she was my best lodger. She paid me three guineas a week merely to sit in my drawing-rooms now and then.’ —— ‘She met some one here?’ I said; but the woman assured me that it was not so, that she always came alone, and saw no one. ‘What on earth did she do here?’ I cried. ‘She simply sat in the drawing-room, sir, reading books, and sometimes had tea,’ the woman answered. I did not know what to say, so I gave her a sovereign and went away. Now, what do you think it all meant? You don’t believe the woman was telling the truth?”

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“我相信。”

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“I do.”

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“这么说，阿尔罗伊夫人为什么去那里？”

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“Then why did Lady Alroy go there?”

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“我亲爱的杰拉德，”我回答说，“阿尔罗伊夫人只是一个热衷于营造神秘感的女人。她租这些房间，是为了戴着面纱来这里，想象自己是一个女主角。她对于神秘感无比狂热，但她自己不过是一个没有秘密的斯芬克斯。”

29
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“My dear Gerald,” I answered, “Lady Alroy was simply a woman with a mania for mystery. She took these rooms for the pleasure of going there with her veil down, and imagining she was a heroine. She had a passion for secrecy, but she herself was merely a Sphinx without a secret.”

30
-

“你真这样想吗？”

30
-

“Do you really think so?”

31
-

“这一点我可以肯定。”我答道。

31
-

“I am sure of it,” I replied.

32
-

他掏出摩洛哥羊皮盒子，打开来，看着那张照片。“是这样吗？”他最后说道。

32
-

He took out the morocco case, opened it, and looked at the photograph. “I wonder?” he said at last.

序号 英文/音标 中文解释 更多操作

etch

[etʃ]

v.蚀刻;铭刻;鲜明地描述;流露出

Oxford

[’ɒksfəd]

n.牛津城;牛津大学;牛津

felted

[’feltɪd]

v. 把 ... 制成毡(使 ... 粘结)

carriage

[’kærɪdʒ]

n.四轮马车

trot

[trɒt]

vi. (马)疾驰;

dine

[daɪn]

v.用正餐;进餐

loosen

[’luːsn]

vt.松开;放松;放宽

truthful

[’truːθfl]

adj.诚实的;真实的

mould

[məʊld]

n.发霉;模具

impatient

[ɪm’peɪʃnt]

adj.不耐烦的;急躁的

sable

[’seɪbl]

adj.黑的;昏暗的

pavement

[’peɪvmənt]

n.人行道

Madame

[’mædəm]

n.夫人

lace

[leɪs]

n.鞋带;饰带;花边;缎带

overhear

[ˌəʊvə’hɪə(r)]

v.无意中听到;偷听

miserable

[’mɪzrəbl]

adj.痛苦的;悲惨的;贫乏的;狼狈的

reckless

[’rekləs]

adj.鲁莽的;不计后果的;大意的

passionate

[’pæʃənət]

adj.热情的;激情的;易怒的

excite

[ɪk’saɪt]

vt.使兴奋;使激动;刺激;激起

matrimony

[’mætrɪməni]

n.结婚;婚姻

butler

[’bʌtlə(r)]

n.男管家;仆役长

secrecy

[’siːkrəsi]

n.秘密;保密;隐蔽

veil

[veɪl]

n.面纱;面罩;掩饰物

lodging

[’lɒdʒɪŋ]

n.寄宿处;借宿

handkerchief

[’hæŋkətʃɪf]

n.手帕;方巾;围巾

pick

[pɪkt]

采摘，挑选；

dreadful

[’dredfl]

adj.可怕的;糟糕的

rend

[rend]

v.撕破;分裂;劈开;强夺

sovereign

[’sɒvrɪn]

n.元首;君主;最高统治者;金镑

morocco

[mə’rɒkəʊ]

n.摩洛哥(北非国家)

morocco

[mə’rɒkəʊ]

n.摩洛哥(北非国家)

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