双语对照 | 书虫二级《莫尔格街凶杀案》：1.我的朋友奥古斯特·杜邦
1.My friend Auguste Dupin
1.我的朋友奥古斯特·杜邦
I met Monsieur Auguste Dupin while I was living in Paris during the spring and summer of 1839. This young Frenchman was from an old and famous family, but the family was now very poor and Dupin only had a little money to live on. He ate and drank very little, bought no clothes, and lived very quietly. Books were the love of his life, and in Paris it is easy to get books.
我是1839年的春天和夏天住在巴黎时认识奥古斯特·杜邦先生的。这个法国年轻人出身于一个古老的名门望族，可是如今家道已经衰落，杜邦只能依靠着一点点钱勉强维持生计。他吃的喝的都很少，也不买衣服，过着非常平静的生活。书籍是他的生活所爱，而且在巴黎是很容易得到书的。
Our first meeting was in a small bookshop in the Rue Montmartre. We were looking for the same old book, and that is how our conversation began. We met again and again, and were soon very friendly.
我们第一次相遇是在蒙马特尔大街的一家小书店里。我们都在找同一本旧书，于是便开始攀谈起来。后来我们又见过很多次面，很快成为了朋友。
He knew much more about books than I did. Conversation with a man like him was very helpful for my studies, and after a time we agreed to find a house and live there together for the time of my stay in Paris.
他读过的书要比我读过的多得多。和这样的人交谈对我的学习大有裨益，后来我们决定找一所房子，在我待在巴黎的这段时间里合住在一起。
We found a house in a quiet street in the Faubourg St. Germain. It was a very old house, and was neither beautiful nor comfortable. But it was right for us, and our strange way of life.
我们在圣日尔曼区一条僻静的街道上找到了一所房子，非常古老，既不漂亮也不舒适，但是却很适合我们，适合我们独特的生活方式。
We saw no visitors, had no friends, and lived only for the night. When morning came, we closed all the shutters on our windows, and in this half-light we spent the day reading, writing, or talking, until the true darkness came. Then we went out into the streets, and walked for hours among the wild lights and shadows of the crowded city.
我们不见客人，也没有什么朋友，只为夜晚而活着。白天我们关上所有窗户上的窗板，就在这半明半暗的屋子里读书、写作，或者聊天，直到真正的黑暗来临。然后我们就会到街上去，在拥挤的城市、纷乱的灯光和阴影中散步几个小时。
During these night walks I learnt how clever my friend was. He could think so clearly and understood so much! He could read other people's thoughts as easily as writing on a wall. He often said, with a laugh, that people had windows in their faces and that he could see through them. Sometimes he read my thoughts in ways that surprised me very much.
就是在夜晚散步的这些时间里，我发现了我的朋友是多么聪明。他的思路是如此清晰，理解是如此深刻!他能轻而易举地读懂别人的心思，就像在墙上写字一样容易。他经常笑着说人们脸上都有窗户，他可以透过这些窗户看见人们的内心世界。有时候他洞穿我的心思的方法会让我大吃一惊。
One night we were walking down a long street near the Jardin du Luxembourg. We were both thinking, and for fifteen minutes we did not say a word. Then, suddenly, Dupin said:
一天晚上我们正沿着卢森堡公园附近一条长长的街道散步。我们各自想着心事，15分钟内谁也没有言语。突然，杜邦说道：
'He cannot write tragedy, that's true. He's much better at writing his funny pieces for the newspaper.'
“的确，他写不了悲剧。他更擅长给报纸写那些幽默搞笑的东西。”
'Oh yes, I agree with that. He—' Then I stopped, astonished. 'Dupin,' I said, 'I do not understand. How could you possibly know that I was thinking about—?' Again, I stopped. Did Dupin really know who I was thinking about?
“哦，对，我同意。他——”我没说下去，惊讶万分。“杜邦，”我说，“我不明白。你怎么能知道我在想什么——?”我又一次打住了。杜邦真的知道我在想谁吗?
'About Chantilly,' Dupin said. 'You were saying to yourself that he was a good writer, but he cannot write tragedy.'
“在想尚蒂伊，”杜邦说，“你在心里说他是个好作家，但是他写不了悲剧。”
'Yes, that's true,' I said. 'I was thinking that. But tell me, please! How did you know?'
“对，是的，”我说，“我的确是在想这些。但是请告诉我!你是如何知道的?”
This Chantilly wrote for one of the Paris newspapers. He wrote about Paris and Parisians in a way that was both clever and very funny. But then he wrote a book, a long story about the ancient Greeks, and Phaedra, the wife of King Theseus. It was, everybody in Paris agreed, a very bad book.
这个尚蒂伊为巴黎的一份报纸撰写文章。他以一种睿智而又极其幽默的笔触描写巴黎和巴黎人。但后来他写了一本书，一个关于古希腊人和国王铁修斯的妻子费德拉的长篇故事。巴黎人都觉得这本书实在是糟糕至极。
'It was the apple-seller,' replied my friend. 'The apple-seller began the thoughts that took you to Chantilly and his book.'
“是因为那个卖苹果的商贩，”我的朋友回答道，“是卖苹果的商贩让你逐步想到了尚蒂伊和他的书。”
'The apple-seller!' I said, astonished. 'But I don't know any apple-sellers.'
“卖苹果的商贩!”我吃惊地说，“可是卖苹果的商贩我一个都不认识啊。”
My friend was happy to explain. 'Some minutes ago we passed an apple-seller, who was carrying a big box of apples on his head, taking them to the fruit market. He didn't see you, and you had to jump out of his way. There were holes in the street, and you turned your foot in one of these holes and nearly fell.'
我的朋友很乐意解释。“几分钟前我们和一个卖苹果的商贩擦身而过，他头上顶着一大箱苹果要运往果市。他没看见你，所以你只得跳开给他让路。街道上坑坑洼洼，你的脚正好踩在了一个坑里，险些跌倒。”
I remembered this now, but how did the apple-seller take us to Chantilly?
现在我想起来了，可是这个卖苹果的商贩又怎么会让我们想到尚蒂伊呢?
'You looked around.' my friend went on, 'and saw all the other holes and broken stones in the street, and then you looked up, a little angrily, to see the name of the street. You were thinking, I am sure, that it was a dangerous street to walk down in the dark, when you could not easily see the holes.
“你四处看了看，”我的朋友接着说，“看见了其他坑洼和街上的碎石，然后有些生气地抬起头，去看街道的名字。”你肯定在想，摸黑走这条街实在不安全，因为不容易看清地上的坑。
'Then we turned a corner into the Rue Racine. Here, the stones were new and unbroken, and you looked up, pleased, to find the name of this street. This name began a new thought. You smiled a little and shook your head. The famous Racine, who wrote a play about Phaedra in 1677, was a better writer than Chantilly will ever be. And you remembered that when Chantilly's book first came out, the bookshops called Chantilly "the new Racine". Everybody in Paris laughed at poor Chantilly because of that. I was sure that you were thinking of that when you smiled. And when you shook your head, I knew you were thinking of poor Chantilly's book.'
“然后我们拐了一个弯到了拉辛大街。这儿的石路是刚铺的，没有什么坑洼，你欣慰地抬起头，去看这条街道的名字。这个名字让你想到了别的什么。你笑了一下，摇了摇头。德高望重的拉辛在1677年也曾写过一部关于费德拉的戏剧，他的成就是尚蒂伊永远难以企及的。你想到了在尚蒂伊的书首次面世的时候，书店都把他称为‘小拉辛’。所有的巴黎人都为此讥笑可怜的尚蒂伊。你刚才肯定是想到了这个才笑了起来。而当你摇头的时候，我就知道你一定是想起了可怜的尚蒂伊的书。”
