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陷坑与钟摆|The Pit and the Pendulum

未亡先葬|The Premature Burial

属类： 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 埃德加 -爱伦-坡] 阅读：[3753]
一个人躺在托莱多的狱中。他心里害怕——不，不止害怕，他充满了恐惧，因为他知道宗教法庭的狱中有五花八门的“惊喜”。很快，他就会看到下方的陷坑…… 这个人并不是书中唯一一个满怀恐惧的人。当福尔图纳托正高高兴兴地要去参加狂欢节聚会时，他遇到了老朋友蒙特雷索。蒙特雷索想要聊聊阿蒙提拉多酒的事情，于是福尔图纳托发现自己身处蒙特雷索家房子下面阴冷潮湿的地窖之中。恐惧很快随之袭来……
一个害怕被活埋的人永远无法摆脱恐惧;一对年轻恋人的密会使很多人陷入恐惧之中;画家年轻貌美的妻子端坐在那里，一直微笑着——然而她心中充满了恐惧。
死亡和恐惧，恐惧和死亡，两者在这些故事中总是牵手相伴。请你在白天，选一个洒满阳光的房间，并在朋友的陪伴下阅读这些故事吧!
A man is lying in a prison in Toledo. He is afraid – no, he is more than afraid, he is full of terror, because he knows that the Inquisition has many surprises in its prisons. Very soon he will look down into the pit...
And he is not the only person in these stories to be full of terror. When Fortunato meets his old friend Montresor, he is a happy man, on his way to a carnival party. But Montresor wants to talk about some Amontillado, and Fortunato finds himself in the cold damp vaults below Montresor’s house. Terror soon follows...
The man who fears burial alive is never free from terror; a meeting of young lovers brings terror to many people; and the beautiful young wife of a painter sits smiling, smiling, smiling – but with terror in her heart.
Death and Terror, Terror and Death, walk hand in hand through these stories. Read them by daylight, in a bright sunny room, with friends around you!
《 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 》
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一个人最怕的是什么事情？不是死亡，而是未亡先葬——死亡之前的葬礼，也就是在你还活着的时候就将你埋葬。这是所有人最害怕的事情。

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生与死。一个何时结束，另一个又何时开始？在患有某些疾病的情况下，我们无法确知。身体冰冷僵硬，心脏停止跳动，呼吸也停止了……然而这并不总是意味着生命的结束。

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所以，偶尔会出现未亡先葬的情况也就不难理解了。人们还记得，不久前那个巴尔的摩妇女的故事。她身染急病，卧床不起，很快就去世了。

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至少她丈夫和医生们是这么认为的。

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她的心脏静止了，脸色灰暗，眼神涣散，身体像坟墓一样冰冷。她像这样躺了三天，然后他们就把她埋进了家族的墓室中。

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三年之后，他们打开墓室，准备放入另一具棺材。当她的丈夫拉开大门时，有什么东西哗啦啦地倒入他的怀中。

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那是他妻子的骸骨，上面还套着白色的葬服。

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医生们认为，那个妇女大约是在葬礼两天之后又“复活”的。他们说，她奋力挣扎想要从棺材里出来，直到棺材倒地摔了开来。然后她用一块棺木碎片敲打墓室的金属大门。可是，没有人听到她的敲打声或求救的尖叫声。后来，或许她晕了过去，甚至死于恐惧。她的葬服钩到了某个金属物品上，使她没有跌倒。于是，她就待在那里，保持着站姿死在了门口，整整三年。

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人们被活埋的几率有多少？或许比我们知道的几率还要大些。想想那样有多么恐怖吧——阴冷潮湿的地面散发的味道……在狭窄的棺木中不见天日的黑暗……无比漫长的死寂。

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关于未亡先葬的真实故事有很多。下面就是发生在我身上的故事。

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多年来，我患有一种叫做强直性昏厥症的疾病。强直性昏厥症患者会静静地躺着，好几个小时甚至好几天一动不动。他们还有体温，脸上也依然有血色，但是你得特别努力听，才能听到他们的心跳和呼吸。有时候，他们会数周甚至数月保持这样的状态。这样一来，要发现他们还活着实在并非易事。

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当强直性昏厥症刚开始发作时，我总是会感到浑身发冷，特别难受，然后我就晕倒了。在这之后，一切都变得黑暗和寂静。我总是苏醒得特别缓慢——我从来也不记得发作时到底发生了什么。

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我原本体格强健，可我开始越来越担心。我的谈话总是离不开棺材和坟墓。我日日夜夜想着未亡先葬的事。我害怕睡觉——害怕在坟墓中醒来。而当最后我终于睡着时，我的梦中充斥着对死亡的恐惧。

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一次，我梦见自己的强直性昏厥症发作了很长时间。一只冰冷的手摸着我的脸，一个声音在我耳边轻声说：“起来呀！”

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我坐了起来。周围黑漆漆的，我看不到说话的人。我在哪里？那只冰冷的手开始摇晃我的胳膊，那个声音说：“起来呀！我说，起来呀！”

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“你是谁？”我问。

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“在我的世界里，我没有名字。”那个声音说，“我以前活着，而现在我已经死了，变成了一个黑暗的东西。我不能睡觉，也不能安歇。你怎么能这么安静地睡觉？起来呀！跟我一起进入黑夜，我将向你展示那些死人的坟墓。”

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在梦中，我看到了世界上所有死人的坟墓打开时的样子。我看到他们穿着葬服，长眠于死亡之中。可是比死人更可怕的是还没死的人——那些没有长眠的人，那些正奋力挣扎想要爬出棺材的人，那些在试图逃生时死去的人。

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正当我凝神细看时，那个声音又对我说：“最可怕的事莫过于看见这些，最可怕的事……”

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我久久不能忘却这些梦境。我开始害怕离开我的房子。我不想离开那些知道我患有强直性昏厥症的人。我想，我的朋友们永远不会误将我活埋。可接下来，我又开始担心我的朋友们……

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于是，我对我家族的墓室进行了多项改建。通常墓室的门是从外面打开的；现在我可以从里面把门打开。我凿了一些洞，好让空气和光亮能进来，还在棺材附近布置了一些放食物和水的地方。我买了一副既温暖又舒适的新棺材。棺材盖就像门一样，我能从里面把它打开。我在墓室的顶部安了一个大钟，钟上挂着一条绳子垂到棺材上，然后那绳子穿过棺材盖上的一个洞，刚好到我的手边。

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可我还是害怕……

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我害怕是有道理的。一天，我慢慢醒来，双眼还闭着，我感到异常疲倦。然后一阵突如其来的恐惧向我袭来。我试图思索、回忆……然后我感到我不是从睡梦中苏醒，而是在强直性昏厥症发作之后醒来的。我心中一下子充满了冰冷的恐惧感，这一恐惧从未离开过我，无论是白天还是黑夜。

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我静静地躺了几分钟，不过最终我睁开了双眼。四周黑乎乎的——一片漆黑——绵延无尽的夜晚的黑暗。我感到自己躺在坚硬的木头上面，我一挪动双臂，便碰到了身体两侧和脸上方的木头。

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我躺在一副棺材里。

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然后希望降临了。我用力想要推开我那副特制棺材的盖子，可是推不动。我试着寻找那条连着大钟的绳索，可它不在那儿。现在希望离我而去。这是一副坚硬的木头棺材，不是我那副柔软舒适的棺材。而且这里有一种潮湿的味道，一种阴冷潮湿的泥土味！我不在我的墓室里……

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“啊，天啊！”我想，“我的强直性昏厥症发作了，我不在家里，和一些不认识我的人在一起。他们以为我死了，于是把我像一条狗一样埋了，埋在一副廉价的木头棺材里，深深地埋在坟墓里，上面连名字都没有！啊，不！”

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我尖叫起来——一声长长的、歇斯底里的、可怕的尖叫。

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“喂？喂？”一个男人的声音回应。

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“发生什么事了？”又一个男人的声音响了起来。

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“怎么回事？”另一个男人说，“你为什么喊成这样？”

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然后那些男人开始动手摇晃我。他们没有把我摇醒，因为我本来就已经醒了，可是那摇晃也帮了我的忙，我一下子想起了发生的所有事情。

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我在弗吉尼亚州的里士满附近，和一个朋友在詹姆斯河边散步。夜幕降临时，突降暴雨。我们在河边看到一艘旧帆船，急忙沿着河岸跑了过去。

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“我们得避避雨。”我对朋友说，“这艘船很小，不过它能让我们不被淋湿。”

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于是当晚我们就睡在那里。床铺很狭窄，不比放在船侧的那些长长的木头箱子好多少。床铺仅有半米宽、半米长。要想钻进这样狭窄的一张床铺不是件易事，但我睡得很香……而且还做梦了。

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在我的梦里——那当然是一个梦——狭窄的木床变成了我的棺材。那潮湿的味道其实是靠近河水和雨后潮湿的土地所带来的。而把我摇醒的男人其实是船上的工人。

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那是一个梦，是的。然而那种恐惧却是真实的，恐惧能让人生病，甚至能置人于死地。然而这次恐怖的经历却有好的结局。那天之后，我不再想死亡和葬礼了。我出去散步、骑马，呼吸自由的空气。我的恐惧消失了，随之而去的还有我的强直性昏厥症。

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不难理解为什么人们会恐惧被活埋以及在密闭的棺材中醒来。但我们必须把这些想法抛开，并将它们拒之门外，否则恐惧和担忧就会把我们早早送入坟墓。

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What is the most horrible thing that can happen to a person? It is not death, but premature burial – burial before death, burial while you are still alive. It is everyone’s worst fear.

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Life and Death. When does one end, and the other begin? With some illnesses, we cannot be sure. The body is cold and still, the heart has stopped, breathing has stopped... but this is not always the end of a life.

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So it is not difficult to understand why premature burials sometimes happen. People still remember the story of a Baltimore woman, not long ago. She went to her bed with a sudden illness, and died soon after.

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Or so her husband and her doctors thought.

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Her heart was silent, her face grey, her eyes unseeing, her body as cold as the grave. She lay like this for three days, and then they buried her in the family vault.

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Three years later, they opened the vault again for another coffin. When her husband pulled back the doors, something fell noisily into his arms.

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It was his wife’s skeleton, in her white burial clothes.

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Doctors thought that the woman ’came alive’ again about two days after her burial. She fought wildly to get out of her coffin, they said, until it fell and broke open. She then used a piece of the broken coffin to hit the metal doors of the vault. But nobody heard her, or her screams for help. Then perhaps she fainted, or even died of terror. Her burial dress caught on some metalwork, which stopped her falling. And so she stayed, standing dead at the door, for three years.

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And so she stayed, standing dead at the door, for three years.

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How often are people buried alive? Perhaps more often than we know. Think of the terror of it – the smell of the cold damp ground... the blackness of the night inside the narrow coffin... the long, long silence.

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There are many true stories about premature burials. This is the one that happened to me.

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For some years I had an illness called catalepsy. People who have catalepsy lie still and do not move for hours, or even days. They are still warm, and there is still some colour in their faces, but you have to listen hard to hear their heart or their breathing. Sometimes they can stay like this for weeks or months. And then it is difficult to find life in them.

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When a cataleptic fit started, I always felt cold and ill, and then I fainted. After this, everything was black and silent. I always woke up very slowly – and I could never remember anything about the fit.

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My body itself was well and strong, but I began to worry more and more. I talked all the time about coffins and graves. Day and night my thoughts were about premature burial. I was afraid of sleeping – and afraid of waking up in a grave. And when at last I did fall asleep, my dreams were about the terrors of death.

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Once I dreamed that I was in a long cataleptic fit. A cold hand touched my face, and a voice in my ear said softly, ’Get up!’

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I sat up. Everything was dark and I could not see the speaker. Where was I? The cold hand started to shake my arm, and the voice said, ’Get up! I said, get up!’

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Who are you?’ I asked.

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I have no name in the place where I live,’ said the voice. ’I was alive, but now I am dead, and a thing of darkness. I cannot sleep, cannot rest. How can you sleep so quietly? Get up! Come with me into the night, and I will show you the graves of the dead.’

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And in my dream I looked into the open graves of every dead person in the world. I saw them, sleeping the long sleep of death in their burial clothes. But more terrible than the dead were the not-dead – those who were not sleeping, those who were fighting to get out of their coffins, those who died trying to escape.

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While I stared, the voice spoke to me again. ’It is a most terrible thing to see, a most terrible thing...’

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I remembered these dreams for a long time. I began to be afraid to leave my house. I did not want to be away from people who knew about my cataleptic fits. My friends, I thought, will never bury me alive by mistake. But then I began to worry about my friends...

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So I made many changes in my family vault. Usually the doors opened from outside; now I could open them from inside. I made holes for air and light to come in, and places for food and water near the coffin. I bought a new coffin that was warm and comfortable. The top of the coffin was like a door, and I could open it from the inside. And on the ceiling of the vault I put a big bell, with a rope that came down to the coffin, and through a hole in the top, next to my hand.

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I made many changes in my family vault.

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But I was still afraid...

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And I was right to be afraid. One day I woke up slowly, eyes still closed, feeling strangely tired. Then a sudden terror hit me. I tried to think, to remember... and then I felt that I was waking up not from sleep, but from a cataleptic fit. And cold fear filled me at once, fear that never leaves me, day or night.

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For some minutes I lay still, but at last I opened my eyes. It was dark – all dark – the darkness of a night that would never end. I felt that I lay on hard wood, and when I moved my arms, they hit wood on both sides of me, and above my face.

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I was lying in a coffin.

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Then hope came. I pushed hard to open the top of my special coffin; it would not move. I tried to find the bell-rope; it was not there. And now hope left me. This was a hard wooden coffin, not my soft, comfortable one. And there was a smell of wetness, a smell of cold damp ground! I was not in my vault...

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Oh, dear God!’ I thought. ’I have had a cataleptic fit, and I’m away from my home and with people who don’t know me. They think that I’m dead, and they have buried me like a dog, in a cheap wooden coffin. Deep, deep in a grave with no name on it! No, no!’

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I screamed – a long, wild, terrible scream.

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Hello? Hello?’ a man’s voice answered.

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What’s the matter?’ said a second man’s voice.

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What’s going on?’ said a third man’s voice. ’Why are you screaming like that?’

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Then the men began to shake me. They did not wake me, because I was already awake, but the shaking helped me, and at once I remembered everything.

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I was near Richmond, in Virginia, on a walk with a friend beside the James River. When night came, there was a sudden storm. We saw an old sailing boat at the side of the river, and hurried along to it.

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We must get out of this storm,’ I said to my friend. ’The boat is very small, but it will keep us dry.’

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So we slept there that night. The beds were very narrow, and were not much better than long wooden boxes in the side of the boat. They were only half a metre across, and half a metre from top to bottom. It was difficult to get into a bed that was so small, but I slept well... and dreamt.

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In my dream – and of course it was a dream – my narrow wooden bed became my coffin. The damp smell came from the river and the wet ground after the rain. And the men who shook me to wake me up were the workmen on the boat.

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In my dream my narrow wooden bed became my coffin.

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It was a dream, yes. But the terror was real, and terror can make people ill, or even kill them. But something good came from this terrible adventure. After that day I stopped thinking about death and burial. I went walking and riding, and breathed the free air. My fears went away, and my catalepsy went with them.

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It is easy to understand the terror of a living burial, the terror of waking inside a closed coffin. But we must put away thoughts like these, and close the door on them, or fear and worry will send us to an early grave.

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序号 英文/音标 中文解释 更多操作

premature

[’premətʃə(r)]

adj.提前的;过早的;早产的

burial

[’beriəl]

n.埋葬;葬礼;坟墓

unseeing

[ˌʌn’siːɪŋ]

adj.不注意的;视而不见的

coffin

[’kɒfɪn]

n.棺材

noisily

[’nɔɪzɪli]

adv.喧闹地

skeleton

[’skelɪtn]

n.骨架;纲要;骨骼;骨瘦如柴的人或动物;家丑

grind

[ɡraɪnd]

v.磨;压迫;碾碎;磨得吱吱响;逐渐停顿

catalepsy

[’kætəlepsi]

【医】全身僵硬症;强直性昏厥

felted

[’feltɪd]

v. 把 ... 制成毡(使 ... 粘结)

cataleptic

[ˌkætə’leptɪk]

adj.全身僵硬症的

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