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双语·月亮与六便士 第十二章

所属教程:译林版·月亮与六便士

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2022年04月20日

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The Avenue de Clichy was crowded at that hour, and a lively fancy might see in the passers-by the personages of many a sordid romance. There were clerks and shopgirls;old fellows who might have stepped out of the pages of Honoré de Balzac;members, male and female, of the professions which make their proft of the frailties of mankind.There is in the streets of the poorer quarters of Paris a thronging vitality which excites the blood and prepares the soul for the unexpected.

“Do you know Paris well?”I asked.

“No. We came on our honeymoon.I haven't been since.”

“How on earth did you fnd out your hotel?”

“It was recommended to me. I wanted something cheap.”

The absinthe came, and with due solemnity we dropped water over the melting sugar.

“I thought I'd better tell you at once why I had come to see you,”I said, not without embarrassment.

His eyes twinkled.

“I thought somebody would come along sooner or later. I've had a lot of letters from Amy.”

“Then you know pretty well what I've got to say.”

“I've not read them.”

I lit a cigarette to give myself a moment's time. I did not quite know now how to set about my mission.The eloquent phrases I had arranged, pathetic or indignant, seemed out of place on the Avenue de Clichy.Suddenly he gave a chuckle.

“Beastly job for you this, isn't it?”

“Oh, I don't know,”I answered.

“Well, look here, you get it over, and then we'll have a jolly evening.”

I hesitated.

“Has it occurred to you that your wife is frightfully unhappy?”

“She'll get over it.”

I cannot describe the extraordinary callousness with which he made this reply. It disconcerted me, but I did my best not to show it.I adopted the tone used by my Uncle Henry, a clergyman, when he was asking one of his relatives for a subscription to the Additional Curates Society.

“You don't mind my talking to you frankly?”

He shook his head, smiling.

“Has she deserved that you should treat her like this?”

“No.”

“Have you any complaint to make against her?”

“None.”

“Then, isn't it monstrous to leave her in this fashion, after seventeen years of married life, without a fault to fnd with her?”

“Monstrous.”

I glanced at him with surprise. His cordial agreement with all I said cut the ground from under my feet.It made my position complicated, not to say ludicrous.I was prepared to be persuasive, touching, and hortatory, admonitory and expostulating, if need be vituperative even, indignant and sarcastic;but what the devil does a mentor do when the sinner makes no bones about confessing his sin?I had no experience, since my own practice has always been to deny everything.

“What, then?”asked Strickland.

I tried to curl my lip.

“Well, if you acknowledge that, there doesn't seem much more to be said.”

“I don't think there is.”

I felt that I was not carrying out my embassy with any great skill. I was distinctly nettled.

“Hang it all, one can't leave a woman without a bob.”

“Why not?”

“How is she going to live?”

“I've supported her for seventeen years. Why shouldn't she support herself for a change?”

“She can't.”

“Let her try.”

Of course there were many things I might have answered to this. I might have spoken of the economic position of woman, of the contract, tacit and overt, which a man accepts by his marriage, and of much else;but I felt that there was only one point which really signifed.

“Don't you care for her any more?”

“Not a bit,”he replied.

The matter was immensely serious for all the parties concerned, but there was in the manner of his answers such a cheerful effrontery that I had to bite my lips in order not to laugh. I reminded myself that his behaviour was abominable.I worked myself up into a state of moral indignation.

“Damn it all, there are your children to think of. They've never done you any harm.They didn't ask to be brought into the world.If you chuck everything like this, they'll be thrown on the streets.'

“They've had a good many years of comfort. It's much more than the majority of children have.Besides, somebody will look after them.When it comes to the point, the MacAndrews will pay for their schooling.”

“But aren't you fond of them?They're such awfully nice kids. Do you mean to say you don't want to have anything more to do with them?”

“I liked them all right when they were kids, but now they're growing up I haven't got any particular feeling for them.”

“It's just inhuman.”

“I dare say.”

“You don't seem in the least ashamed.”

“I'm not.”

I tried another tack.

“Everyone will think you a perfect swine.”

“Let them.”

“Won't it mean anything to you to know that people loathe and despise you?”

“No.”

His brief answer was so scornful that it made my question, natural though it was, seem absurd. I refected for a minute or two.

“I wonder if one can live quite comfortably when one's conscious of the disapproval of one's fellows?Are you sure it won't begin to worry you?Everyone has some sort of a conscience, and sooner or later it will fnd you out. Supposing your wife died, wouldn't you be tortured by remorse?”

He did not answer, and I waited for some time for him to speak. At last I had to break the silence myself.

“What have you to say to that?”

“Only that you're a damned fool.”

“At all events, you can be forced to support your wife and children,”I retorted, somewhat piqued.“I suppose the law has some protection to offer them.”

“Can the law get blood out of a stone?I haven't any money. I've got about a hundred pounds.”

I began to be more puzzled than before. It was true that his hotel pointed to the most straitened circumstances.

“What are you going to do when you've spent that?”

“Earn some.”

He was perfectly cool, and his eyes kept that mocking smile which made all I said seem rather foolish. I paused for a little while to consider what I had better say next.But it was he who spoke frst.

“Why doesn't Amy marry again?She's comparatively young, and she's not unattractive. I can recommend her as an excellent wife.If she wants to divorce me I don't mind giving her the necessary grounds.”

Now it was my turn to smile. He was very cunning, but it was evidently this that he was aiming at.He had some reason to conceal the fact that he had run away with a woman, and he was using every precaution to hide her whereabouts.I answered with decision.

“Your wife says that nothing you can do will ever induce her to divorce you. She's quite made up her mind.You can put any possibility of that defnitely out of your head.”

He looked at me with astonishment that was certainly not feigned.The smile abandoned his lips, and he spoke quite seriously.

“But, my dear fellow, I don't care. It doesn't matter a twopenny damn to me one way or the other.”

I laughed.

“Oh, come now;you mustn't think us such fools as all that. We happen to know that you came away with a woman.”

He gave a little start, and then suddenly burst into a shout of laughter. He laughed so uproariously that the people sitting near us looked round, and some of them began to laugh too.

“I don't see anything very amusing in that.”

“Poor Amy,”he grinned.

Then his face grew bitterly scornful.

“What poor minds women have got!Love. It's always love.They think a man leaves them only because he wants others.Do you think I should be such a fool as to do what I've done for a woman?”

“Do you mean to say you didn't leave your wife for another woman?”

“Of course not.”

“On your word of honour?”

I don't know why I asked for that. It was very ingenuous of me.

“On my word of honour.”

“Then, what in God's name have you left her for?”

“I want to paint.”

I looked at him for quite a long time. I did not understand.I thought he was mad.It must be remembered that I was very young, and I looked upon him as a middle-aged man.I forgot everything but my own amazement.

“But you're forty.”

“That's what made me think it was high time to begin.”

“Have you ever painted?”

“I rather wanted to be a painter when I was a boy, but my father made me go into business because he said there was no money in art. I began to paint a bit a year ago.For the last year I've been going to some classes at night.”

“Was that where you went when Mrs. Strickland thought you were playing bridge at your club?”

“That's it.”

“Why didn't you tell her?”

“I preferred to keep it to myself.”

“Can you paint?”

“Not yet. But I shall.That's why I've come over here.I couldn't get what I wanted in London.Perhaps I can here.”

“Do you think it's likely that a man will do any good when he starts at your age?Most men begin painting at eighteen.”

“I can learn quicker than I could when I was eighteen.”

“What makes you think you have any talent?”

He did not answer for a minute. His gaze rested on the passing throng, but I do not think he saw it.His answer was no answer.

“I've got to paint.”

“Aren't you taking an awful chance?”

He looked at me then. His eyes had something strange in them, so that I felt rather uncomfortable.

“How old are you?Twenty-three?”

It seemed to me that the question was beside the point. It was natural that I should take chances;but he was a man whose youth was past, a stockbroker with a position of respectability, a wife and two children.A course that would have been natural for me was absurd for him.I wished to be quite fair.

“Of course a miracle may happen, and you may be a great painter, but you must confess the chances are a million to one against it. It'll be an awful sell if at the end you have to acknowledge you've made a hash of it.”

“I've got to paint,”he repeated.

“Supposing you're never anything more than third-rate, do you think it will have been worth while to give up everything?After all, in any other walk in life it doesn't matter if you're not very good;you can get along quite comfortably if you're just adequate;but it's different with an artist.”

“You blasted fool,”he said.

“I don't see why, unless it's folly to say the obvious.”

“I tell you I've got to paint. I can't help myself.When a man falls into the water it doesn't matter how he swims, well or badly:he's got to get out or else he'll drown.”

There was real passion in his voice, and in spite of myself I was impressed. I seemed to feel in him some vehement power that was struggling within him;it gave me the sensation of something very strong, overmastering, that held him, as it were, against his will.I could not understand.He seemed really to be possessed of a devil, and I felt that it might suddenly turn and rend him.Yet he looked ordinary enough.My eyes, resting on him curiously, caused him no embarrassment.I wondered what a stranger would have taken him to be, sitting there in his old Norfolk jacket and his unbrushed bowler;his trousers were baggy, his hands were not clean;and his face, with the red stubble of the unshaved chin, the little eyes, and the large, aggressive nose, was uncouth and coarse.His mouth was large, his lips were heavy and sensual.No;I could not have placed him.

“You won't go back to your wife?”I said at last.

“Never.”

“She's willing to forget everything that's happened and start afresh. She'll never make you a single reproach.”

“She can go to hell.”

“You don't care if people think you an utter blackguard?You don't care if she and your children have to beg their bread?”

“Not a damn.”

I was silent for a moment in order to give greater force to my next remark. I spoke as deliberately as I could.

“You are a most unmitigated cad.”

“Now that you've got that off your chest, let's go and have dinner.”

在这个钟点儿,克里舍林荫大道已经人满为患了。只需要发挥一点儿想象力,就能够在过往行人中发现不少庸俗小说中的人物。有职员,有女店员,有从巴尔扎克[29]书中走出来的老家伙们;还有各行各业的成员,无论男女,他们在利用人性的弱点牟利。在巴黎比较穷困的地区,大街上熙熙攘攘,充满活力,让人血脉贲张,却也准备了斯特里克兰这么一个出人意料的人物。

“你对巴黎很熟吗?”我问道。

“不熟,我们度蜜月时来过,从那以后就再也没来过。”

“你究竟怎么找到你住的这家旅馆的?”

“别人给我推荐的,我想找家便宜的旅馆。”

苦艾酒端上来了,我们故作庄重地把水滴到正在溶化的糖上。

“我想我最好马上就告诉你我来见你的原因。”我多少还是带些窘态地说。

他的眼睛眨了眨。

“我知道迟早有人会来的,我收到了艾米的很多来信。”

“那你一定很清楚地知道我要说什么了。”

“我没读那些信。”

我点上一支烟,让自己有时间考虑一下。我现在真的不知道如何来完成自己的使命了。我事先安排好的一套雄辩的说辞,哀婉的也罢,愤激的也罢,似乎在克里舍林荫大道有点不合时宜了。突然,斯特里克兰咯咯笑了起来。

“这可是件苦差事,不是吗?”

“哦,我不知道。”我回答道。

“嗯,听我说,你干脆竹筒倒豆子都说出来吧,然后,我们好好玩一个晚上。”

我迟疑不决。

“你脑子里闪过这样的念头没有,你妻子现在痛苦极了?”

“她会挺过去的。”

我简直无法形容他说这话时罕见的冷酷无情。他的回答让我语塞和不安,不过我尽量不表现出来。我采用了我的叔叔亨利——一位牧师,每次在他为候补副牧师协会向亲戚们募捐时,都会用的口吻说道。

“你不介意我实话实说吧?”

他笑着摇了摇头。

“你这样对待她,良心上过得去吗?”

“过不去。”

“你对她有什么不满意的地方吗?”

“根本没有。”

“那么,经过了十七年的婚姻生活,你又没发现她有任何错误,你就这样把她抛弃,岂不是太过分啦?”

“是很过分。”

我吃惊地瞥了他一眼。我说的话他全都认账,好像釜底抽薪,让我所处的形势复杂起来,且不说变得荒唐可笑了。我原来准备晓之以理,动之以情,循循善诱,连唬带吓,规劝告诫;如果需要的话,甚至破口责骂,大发脾气,冷嘲热讽。但是如果罪人对他所犯罪恶供认不讳,忏悔无误,接受祷告的牧师还有什么可说的,还有什么可做的呢?我对他这种人毫无经验,我自己的人生阅历好像与当下的情景格格不入。

“还有什么话要说吗?”斯特里克兰问道。

我设法动了动嘴皮子。

“好吧,如果你承认了,似乎就没有什么可多说的了。”

“我想也没有了。”

我觉得我执行这差事的策略不太高明,我显然有点窝火。

“别的都不说了,你总不能一分钱不留,就把你的妻子甩了呀。”

“为什么不能?”

“那她靠什么过日子呀?”

“我已经供养她十七年了,为什么她就不能自己养活自己,做个改变呢?”

“她做不到嘛。”

“那就让她试试。”

当然,我还有很多话可以应对。我可以说说女人的经济地位,男人如果接受了婚姻,他就必须履行的责任和义务,无论这种契约是公开的还是默认的,以及其他的很多话,但我觉得只有一点才是真正有意义的。

“你不再爱她了吗?”

“一点儿也不爱了。”他回答道。

这件事对所有的相关方都非常严重,但是他回答问题的态度却是轻松愉快、厚颜无耻的,我只得咬紧嘴唇,不让自己笑出来。我提醒自己他的所作所为是令人厌恶的,我努力激起自己出于道德上的义愤。

“他妈的,你总得为你的孩子想想。他们从未伤害过你,他们并没有要求你把他们带到这个世界上来。如果你把一切都扔下不管的话,他们只好流落街头了。”

“他们已经过了那么多年衣食无忧的日子了,享的福超过了大多数的孩子。再说,也有人会照顾他们的,真到了那一步,麦克安德鲁一家人会资助他们上学的费用的。”

“难道你不喜欢他们吗?他们是多么可爱的孩子呀,你的意思是说,你不再想和他们有任何的瓜葛了吗?”

“当他们还是小孩子的时候,我很喜欢他们,但是现在他们已经长大了,我对他们就没什么特殊的感情了。”

“你真没有人性。”

“我说也是。”

“你似乎没有一丁点儿的羞愧。”

“我没有。”

我试图再换一种方式。

“每个人都会说你是个猪狗不如的家伙。”

“让他们去说吧。”

“你难道就不怕大家在背后戳你的脊梁骨?”

“不怕。”

他简短的回答充满了傲慢,使我的问题,尽管是自然而然的,却听起来很荒谬。我反思了一两分钟。

“我很好奇如果一个人明知道别人都在非议他,他还能心安理得地生活下去?你确定这些闲话不会让你开始觉得担忧吗?人人都会有某种良知,迟早你也会良心发现的,假如你的妻子死了,你的内心不会受到悔恨的折磨吗?”

他没有回答,我等了一会儿,希望他能开口。最终还是我自己打破了沉默。

“你还有什么要说的吗?”

“我要说的只有一句,你是个该死的傻瓜。”

“不管怎样,大家会迫使你抚养妻儿的。”我反唇相讥,多少有点恼羞成怒了,“我料想法律也会为他们提供保护的。”

“法律能在石头里榨出油来吗?我没有钱,我只有大约一百镑了。”

我开始比来之前更摸不着头脑了,从他所住的旅馆上看,他目前窘迫的境地倒是不假。

“当你花光了这点钱,你打算怎么办?”

“再去挣点儿。”

他相当冷静,他的眼角一直保持着嘲讽的微笑,使我说的全部话好像很愚蠢。我停顿了一会儿,考虑我下面最好再说些什么。但这次他却先开口了。

“艾米为什么不可以再嫁人呢?相对来说,她的年龄还算年轻,长得也不错。我可以肯定地说,她是个优秀的妻子,如果她想跟我离婚,我不会介意给她提供必要的借口。”

此时轮到我微笑了,他很狡猾,但最终狐狸的尾巴还是露了出来,这才是他的目的所在。出于某种原因,他必须把他和一个女人已经私奔的事实掩盖起来,而且千方百计地把她藏在了某处。我斩钉截铁地说:

“你的妻子说了,无论你用什么样的手段都不能诱使她同你离婚,她已经下定决心了。你还是彻底死了这条心吧。”

他大吃一惊地看着我,这表情显然不是装出来的。他嘴角的微笑消失了,十分严肃地说道:

“可是,我亲爱的朋友,我不会在意的。她同意离婚还是不同意离婚,跟我没有一点儿关系了。”

我笑了起来。

“哦,算了吧,你没有必要把我们当傻子。我们碰巧知道你和一个女人私奔了。”

他愣了一下,然后突然爆发出一阵大笑。

他的笑声如此放肆,引来了坐在我们周围人的目光,有些人也跟着笑了起来。

“我没看出来这事有什么好笑的。”

“可怜的艾米。”他笑容未消地说。

随后,他的脸变成一副不屑和鄙夷的样子。

“女人就是头发长见识短,可怜的脑袋瓜里只容得下一件事:爱情!永远是爱情。她们认为男人离开她们只是因为他想要别的女人。你认为我是这样的傻瓜吗,会因为另外一个女人而重蹈覆辙?”

“你的意思是,你不是因为另外一个女人而抛弃你的妻子?”

“当然。”

“你敢发誓吗?”

我不知道为什么我会这样要求他,这话说得太没水平了。

“我发誓。”

“那么,看在上帝的分上,你究竟为什么离开她?”

“我想画画。”

我盯着他看了好长时间。我搞不明白,我想他是疯了。别忘了我那时还很年轻,在我眼里,他是一个中年人,我除了目瞪口呆外,什么也记不得了。

“但是你都四十岁了。”

“我想到的是,这正是开始画画的好时候。”

“你以前画过画吗?”

“在小时候,我特别想成为一名画家,但我的父亲让我学做生意,他说学艺术挣不着钱。一年前,我开始画了一些画,在过去的一年中,我一直坚持去夜校学习画画。”

“斯特里克兰太太认为你在俱乐部玩桥牌的时候,你实际上是去了那里?”

“是的,就是这么回事。”

“那你为什么不跟她说实话?”

“我希望有点自己个人的空间。”

“你现在会画了吗?”

“还不太会,但我一定会的。这就是我来这儿的原因。我在伦敦无法得到我想要的,也许在这儿可以。”

“你认为像你这个年龄学画画还能学出来吗?大多数人在十八岁就开始学画了。”

“我要是十八岁时开始学,会比现在学得快些。”

“究竟是什么使你认为你有这方面的天赋呢?”

他没有马上回答,他的目光落在了过往的人群上,但我觉得他并没真正在看。过了一会儿,他答非所问地说道:

“我必须要画画。”

“你这岂不是在撞大运吗?”

这时他看着我,眼中有种奇怪的东西,让我感到很不舒服。

“你多大了?二十三?”

这个问题在我看来有点跑题,很自然我应该有时间抓住生活中的种种机遇。但是他是个青春已逝的男人,是有了受人尊敬地位的证券经纪人,有了妻子和两个孩子的中年男人了,对我来说可能是很自然的道路,对他来说就很荒诞了。我希望我能表现得公平些。

“当然奇迹也许会发生,你可能会成为一个伟大的画家。但是你必须承认这样的机会只有百万分之一。如果到头来,你不得不承认你把事情弄得一团糟,后悔可就来不及了。”

“我必须要画画。”他又重复了一遍。

“如果你至多只能成为三流画家,你觉得放弃现有的这一切值得吗?毕竟,如果你从事别的什么行业,做得不够好也无关紧要,只要你衣食无忧,就会过得很舒服。但是,如果做个艺术家那就另当别论了。”

“你这个该死的傻瓜。”他说。

“我看不出来你为什么说我傻,除非我傻在说出了显而易见的真相。”

“我告诉你我必须要画画,我自己控制不了自己,一个人落到水里,他如何游泳,姿势好看难看根本没有关系,他必须挣扎出水,否则就会被淹死。”

在他的声音中,能听出某种激情,我不由自主地被感动了,似乎能够感觉到在他的身体里有种激昂的力量在斗争,能够感觉到某种东西非常强大,压倒一切,紧紧地把控着他,违背他的意愿。我无法理解,他真的好像被魔鬼附了体。我觉得魔鬼会突然转过身撕碎了他。但是,他看上去再普通不过了,我的眼睛好奇地打量他,但没有让他感到尴尬。我想知道一个陌生人会怎么看待他:穿着破旧的诺福克夹克和戴着脏兮兮的圆顶礼帽坐在那儿;他的裤子肥大而皱皱巴巴,两只手也不干净;没有修边幅的下巴上都是红色的胡茬,小眼睛,大鼻子咄咄逼人,面容既粗野又粗糙。他的嘴很大,嘴唇很厚,很性感。不行,我无法给他定位。

“你不会回到你妻子身边了吗?”我最后又问道。

“绝不。”

“她愿意忘了所发生的一切,重新开始,她决不会责怪你半句的。”

“让她见鬼去吧。”

“如果人们认为你是个十足的无赖你不会在意吗?如果你的妻儿不得不去沿街乞讨,你也不会在意吗?”

“完全不在意。”

我沉默了片刻,为了让我的下一句话更加有分量,我尽可能一字一顿地说。

“你是个天底下最卑鄙的男人。”

“既然你已经把压在心头的话都倒了出来,那么让我们一起去吃晚餐吧。”

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