双语·《刀锋》 第四章 三
CHAPTER FOUR 3
第四章 三
In all big cities there are self-contained groups that exist without intercommunication, small worlds within a greater world that lead their lives, their members dependent upon one another for companionship, as though they inhabited islands separated from each other by an unnavigable strait. Of no city, in my experience, is this more true than of Paris.There high society seldom admits outsiders into its midst, the politicians live in their own corrupt circle, the bourgeoisie, great and small, frequent one another, writers congregate with writers（it is remarkable in André Gide’s Journal to see with how few people he seems to have been intimate who did not follow his own calling），painters hobnob with painters and musicians with musicians.The same thing is true of London, but in a less marked degree；there birds of a feather flock much less together, and there are a dozen houses where at the same table you may meet a duchess, an actress, a painter, a member of Parliament, a lawyer, a dressmaker, and an author.
在所有大城市里，有着一个个独立的社会圈子，彼此互不交往，在偌大的一个世界上构成了若干小世界，关起门过自己的日子，内部的成员相互依存、抱团取暖，犹如一座座孤岛，岛与岛之间隔着无法通航的海峡。根据我的所见所闻，没有一座城市比巴黎更是如此了。在这座城市里，上流社会很少允许外人涉足圈内；政客们自成一个圈子，过着糜烂的生活；大大小小的资产阶级相互之间你来我往；作家和作家欢聚一堂（在安德烈·纪德的日记里，有一点很突出：他好像很少跟自己行业之外的人交往），画家和画家结伴，音乐家和音乐家为友。伦敦的情况也大致如此，只不过不那么明显罢了。伦敦城内，虽也“人以群分”，但与巴黎相比就不那么讲究了，有那么十几户人家，餐桌上既能看见公爵夫人，也可以遇到演员、画家、议员、律师、服装设计师和作家。
The events of my life have led me at one time and another to dwell transitorily in pretty well all the worlds of Paris, even（through Elliott）in the closed world of the Boulevard St. Germain；but that which I liked best, better than the discreet circle that has its centre in what is now called the Avenue Foch, better than the cosmopolitan crew that patronize Larue's and the Café de Paris, better than the noisy sordid gaiety of Montmartre, is that section of which the artery is the Boulevard du Montparnasse.In my youth I spent a year in a tiny apartment near the Lion de Belfort, on the fifth floor, from which I had a spacious view of the cemetery.Montparnasse has still for me the tranquil air of a provincial town that was characteristic of it then.When I pass through the dingy narrow Rue d’Odessa I remember with a pang the shabby restaurant where we used to foregather to dine, painters and illustrators and sculptors, I，but for Arnold Bennett on occasion, the only writer, and sit late discussing excitedly, absurdly, angrily, painting and literature.It is still a pleasure to me to stroll down the boulevard and look at the young people who are as young as I was then and invent stories for myself about them.When I have nothing better to do I take a taxi and go and sit in the old Café du D?me.It is no longer what it was then, the meeting place exclusively of Bohemia；the small tradesmen of the neighbourhood have taken to visiting it, and strangers from the other side of the Seine come to it in the hope of seeing a world that has ceased to exist.Students come to it still, of course, painters and writers, but most of them are foreigners；and when you sit there you hear around you as much Russian, Spanish, German, and English as French.But I have a notion that they are saying verymuch the same sort of things as we said forty years ago, only they speak of Picasso instead of Manet and of André Breton instead of Guillaume Apollinaire.My heart goes out to them. When I had been in Paris about a fortnight I was sitting one evening at the D?me and since the terrace was crowded I had been forced to take a table in the front row.It was fine and warm.The plane trees were just bursting into leaf and there was in the air that sense of leisure, lightheartedness, and alacrity that was peculiar to Paris.I felt at peace with myself, but not lethargically, with exhilaration rather.Suddenly a man walking past me, stopped and with a grin that displayed a set of very white teeth said：“Hello！”I looked at him blankly.He was tall and thin.He wore no hat and he had a mop of dark brown hair that badly needed cutting.His upper lip and his chin were concealed by a thick brown beard.His forehead and his neck were deeply tanned.He wore a frayed shirt, without a tie, a brown, threadbare coat, and a pair of shabby grey slacks.He looked a bum and to the best of my belief I had never seen him before.I put him down for one of those good-for-nothings who have gone to the devil in Paris and I expected him to pull a hard-luck story to wheedle a few francs out of me for a dinner and a bed.He stood in front of me, his hands in his pockets, showing his white teeth, with a look of amusement in his dark eyes.
我的人生际遇使得我在不同的时间段里游走于巴黎各类社交圈子，甚至还（通过艾略特）进入过圣日尔曼大街那个封闭的世界，但我最喜欢的是以蒙帕纳司大街为中轴的那个小社会——这个小社会在我心目中的地位要超过那个以现在叫作福煦大道为中心的拘谨保守的小圈子，要超过经常光顾拉鲁埃餐馆和巴黎咖啡馆的那些国际人士，也超过蒙马特尔区的那些吵吵闹闹、蓬头垢面的追欢族。年轻时，我曾经在贝尔福狮子咖啡馆附近的一个小公寓里住过一年。我的房间在五楼，视野开阔，可以眺望到那片公墓。蒙帕纳司在我眼中仍旧具有当初它特有的那种外省乡镇的静谧气息。走过阴暗、狭窄的奥德萨街时，我会怦然心跳，会回想起我们经常聚餐的那家寒碜的餐馆。我们中间有油画家、插图画家和雕塑家，除了阿诺德·班内特偶尔来来外，在座的就我一个作家了。我们在那儿一待就待到很晚，一块儿讨论绘画和文学，一个个情绪激昂，语气激愤，样子荒唐可笑。如今走在蒙帕纳司大街上，看一看那些和我当年一样的年轻人，以他们为蓝本构想几篇故事，仍不失为人生乐事。无事可做的时候，我就搭乘出租车去多姆咖啡店怀怀旧。昔日的景象不复存在，它已不再是放荡不羁的文化人聚会的场所，而成了附近小商小贩的啜饮之地，顾客中也有塞纳河对岸跑来的外乡人，他们怀着一线希望，想看看一个业已消亡的世界留下的痕迹。当然，来的人中间仍有学生、画家和作家，但多为外国人。坐在这里，既可以听到法语，也可以听到俄语、西班牙语、德语和英语。我有一种感觉，他们的话题跟我们四十年前的话题基本是一样的，只不过他们谈的是毕加索而非马奈，是安德烈·布勒东而非纪尧姆·阿波利奈尔。对这些人我有一种亲切的感觉。来到巴黎后，大约有两个星期的时间了。一天傍晚，我去多姆咖啡店小饮，露台上人多，只好在前排找一张桌子坐下。天气晴暖。法国梧桐树上叶子的苞芽待出，空气中飘荡着巴黎所特有的那种闲散、轻松和欢快的气氛。我的内心一片宁静——这不是呆滞的宁静，而是充满了活力的宁静。突然，一个男子从旁边走过时，却停住了脚步，咧嘴一笑，露出一口雪白的牙齿，冲着我打招呼道：“你好！”我白了他一眼。此人瘦高个，没有戴帽子，乱蓬蓬的深棕色头发早就该剪了，上嘴唇和下巴被浓密的棕色胡须遮得严严实实，额头和脖子被太阳晒成了紫红色。他穿一件破衬衫，没有打领带，一件旧旧的棕色外套，下穿一条褴褛的灰裤子。看他的模样像个叫花子，我坚信自己和此人素不相识。在我看来，他就是那种流落于巴黎街头的混混，八成会编出一套落难的故事，从我手中骗几个法郎去吃顿晚饭，找个住宿的地方。他站在我面前，双手插兜，露出雪白的牙齿，黑眼睛里含着笑意。
“You don't remember me?”he said.
“你记不得我啦？”他问。
“I've never set eyes on you in my life.”
“我从来就没有见过你。”
I was prepared to give him twenty francs, but I wasn't prepared to let him get away with the bluff that we knew one another.
我准备给他二十法郎把他打发走，可又觉得无法容忍他撒谎，好像我们以前认识似的。
“Larry，”he said.
“我是拉里。”他说。
“Good God！Sit down.”He chuckled, stepped forward and took the empty chair at my table.“Have a drink.”I beckoned to the waiter.“How could you expect me to recognize you with all that hair on your face?”
“我的天呀！快请坐！”他嘿嘿一笑，趋前一步，在我旁边的空椅子上坐了下来。“来杯喝的！”我冲着跑堂的侍者喊了一声，然后又对拉里说道：“你满脸的胡子，怎么能叫我认出来呢？”
The waiter came and he ordered an orangeade. Now that I looked at him I remembered the peculiarity of his eyes, which came from the black of the iris being as black as that of the pupil and which gave them at once intensity and opaqueness.
侍者走过来，拉里点了杯橘子水。我仔细打量拉里，想起了他眼睛的特别之处——那虹膜和瞳孔的颜色一样黑，让他的目光显得专注和神秘。
“How long have you been in Paris?”I asked.
“你来巴黎多长时间了？”我问。
“A month.”
“一个月。”
“Are you going to stay?”
“预备待下去吗？”
“For a while.”
“待一段时间吧。”
While I asked these questions my mind was busy. I noticed that the cuffs of his trousers were ragged and that there were holes in the elbows of his coat.He looked as destitute as any beachcomber I had ever met in an Eastern port.It was hard in those days to forget the depression and I wondered whether the crash of'twenty-nine had left him penniless.I didn't much like the thought of that and not being a person to beat about the bush I asked outright：
我一边问话，脑子却转个不停。我注意到他的裤脚已毛了边，上衣的胳膊肘处有几个窟窿眼，一副落魄相，跟我在东方港口碰见过的流浪汉没什么两样。那些日子，人们对经济大萧条的后果久久难忘，于是我便觉得一定是一九二九年的经济大崩溃使他成了个穷光蛋。我不喜欢绕着圈子说话，此时干脆开门见山地问道：
“Are you down and out?”
“你是不是落了难？”
“No, I'm all right. What makes you think that?”
“哪里的话。我挺好的。你怎么会这么想？”
“Well, you look as if you could do with a square meal and the things you've got on are only fit for the garbage can.”
“哦，你看上去像是吃施舍饭的，身上破衣烂衫，还不如扔到垃圾箱里好。”
“Are they as bad as all that?I never thought about it. As a matter of fact I have been meaning to get myself a few odds and ends, but I never seem able to get down to it.”
“有这么糟吗？这我从来没有想到过。其实，我计划着添几件零用品，可就是没有能付诸实施。”
I thought he was shy or proud and I didn't see why I should put up with that sort of nonsense.
我觉得他是难为情或者放不下架子，所以不愿意再听他支吾下去。
“Don't be a fool, Larry. I'm not a millionaire, but I'm not poor.If you're short of cash let me lend you a few thousand francs.That won't break me.”
“别充好汉了，拉里。我不是百万富翁，但也不穷。如果你缺钱，就让我借给你几千法郎吧。这不会叫我破产的。”
He laughed outright.
他哈哈大笑起来。
“Thanks a lot, but I'm not short of cash. I've got more money than I can spend.”
“多谢。不过，我并不缺钱。我自己的钱都花不完呢。”
“Notwithstanding the crash?”
“经济大崩溃中没受冲击吗？”
“Oh, that didn't affect me. Everything I had was in government bonds.I don't know whether they went down in value, I never inquired, but I do know that Uncle Sam went on paying up on the coupons like the decent old party he is.In point of fact I've been spending so little during the last few years, I must have quite a bit in hand.”
“哦，那次大崩溃没有冲击到我。我把所有的钱都买了政府公债。不知道政府公债是不是也贬值了。我没有打听过，只知道山姆大叔仍一如既往地支付着利息。实际上，这几年我的花销很小，手头宽裕着呢。”
“Where have you come from now then?”
“那么，你是从哪里过来的？”
“India.”
“从印度。”
“Oh, I heard you'd been there. Isabel told me.She apparently knows the manager of your bank in Chicago.”
“哦，我听说你去了那里，是伊莎贝尔告诉我的。她好像认识你在芝加哥那家银行的经理。”
“Isabel?When did you last see her?”
“伊莎贝尔？你是什么时候见到她的？”
“Yesterday.”
“昨天。”
“She's not in Paris?”
“她不会在巴黎吧？”
“She is indeed. She's living in Elliott Templeton's apartment.”
“实际上，她在巴黎呢，住在艾略特·邓普顿的那套公寓里。”
“That's grand. I'd love to see her.”
“太好了。我想见见她。”
Though I was watching his eyes pretty closely while we were exchanging these remarks I could discern only a natural surprise and pleasure, but no feeling more complicated.
我们说这些话时，我一直在留意观察他的眼神，发现他的眼睛里有很自然的诧异和喜悦，没有复杂的成分。
“Gray's there too. You know they're married?”
“格雷也住在那里。你知道他们结婚了吗？”
“Yes, Uncle Bob-Dr. Nelson, my guardian-wrote and told me, but he died some years ago.”
“知道。鲍勃大叔，也就是我的监护人纳尔逊医生，曾经写信告诉过我。他几年前过世了。”
It occurred to me that with this break in what appeared his only link with Chicago and his friends there he probably knew nothing of what had happened. I told him of the birth of Isabel's two daughters, of the death of Henry Maturin and Louisa Bradley, of Gray's ruin and of Elliott's generosity.
我想起纳尔逊医生可能是他和芝加哥以及那边的朋友之间的唯一联系，如今这条线一断，他大概对这几年发生的事情一无所知。于是我告诉他伊莎贝尔生了两个女儿，亨利·马图林和路易莎·布雷德利离开了人世，说格雷已经破产，还讲了讲艾略特的义举。
“Is Elliott here too?”
“艾略特也在巴黎吗？”
“No.”
“不在。”
For the first time in forty years Elliott was not spending the spring in Paris. Though looking younger he was now seventy and as usual with men of that age there were days when he felt tired and ill.Little by little he had given up taking any but walking exercise.He was nervous about his health and his doctor came to see him twice a week to thrust into an alternate buttock a hypodermic needle with the fashionable injection of the moment.At every meal, at home or abroad, he took from his pocket a little gold box from which he extracted a tablet which he swallowed with the reserved air of one performing a religious rite.His doctor had recommended him to take the cure at Montecatini, a watering-place in the north of Italy, and after this he proposed to go to Venice to look for a font of a design suitable to his Romanesque church.He was less unwilling to leave Paris unvisited since each year he found it socially more unsatisfactory.He did not like old people, and resented it when he was invited to meet only persons of his own age, and the young he found vapid.The adornment of the church he had built was now a main interest of his life and here he could indulge his ineradicable passion for buying works of art with the comfortable assurance that he was doing it to the glory of God.He had found in Rome an early altar of honey-coloured stone and had been dickering in Florence for six months for a triptych of the Siennese school to put over it.
四十年来，艾略特第一次不在巴黎过春天。尽管看上去显年轻，他毕竟也是七旬老者了。在这古稀之年，他经常感到周身乏力，身体欠佳。除了散步，他把别的锻炼项目都逐渐放弃了。他对自己的健康状况深感忧虑。他的医生每个星期来探视两次，在他的两边屁股上轮流打针，皮下注射一种当时流行的针剂。每次吃饭，不论在家里或者在外面，他总要从口袋里掏出个小金盒子，取出一粒药片吞下去，就像履行宗教仪式一样郑重其事。医生劝他去蒙特卡蒂尼疗养，那是意大利北部的一个温泉疗养场。这之后，他提出想到威尼斯去寻找一个圣洗池，准备安放在他的那座罗马式教堂里。他对巴黎的钟爱已大不如从前了，原因是他觉得巴黎的社交生活一年不如一年。他不喜欢年纪大的人，遇到有人请客，请的都是他这般年纪的人，他就觉得心中不快。而见了年轻人，他又觉得他们浅薄。装修他出资建造的那座教堂，如今成了他生活中主要的兴趣所在；在这上面，他大量购买艺术品，宣泄自己对艺术的那种根深蒂固的热情，同时感到心安理得，觉得是在为上帝效力。他在罗马找到一座蜜黄色石头砌的基督教早期的祭坛，又在佛罗伦萨花了六个月时间讨价还价，买了一块锡耶纳派的三幅一体的浮雕图，将浮雕图镶嵌在祭坛上方。
Then Larry asked me how Gray was liking Paris.
随后，拉里问我格雷喜不喜欢巴黎。
“I'm afraid he's feeling rather lost here.”
“他在这儿恐怕有一种失落感。”
I tried to explain to him how Gray had struck me. He listened to me with his eyes fixed on my face in a meditative, unblinking gaze that suggested to me, I don't know why, that he was listening to me not with his ears, but with some inner more sensitive organ of hearing.It was queer and not very comfortable.
我试图向他描述格雷给我留下的印象。拉里听着，眼睛一眨不眨，死死盯着我的脸，一副若有所思的表情。不知怎么的，我觉得他不是用耳朵在听，而用的是内心深处一种更为敏感的器官。这让我觉得怪兮兮的，感到有点不太舒服。
“But you'll see for yourself，”I finished.
“不过，你还是自己看看吧。”我末了说。
“Yes, I'd love to see them. I suppose I shall find the address in the phone book.”
“好的。我很想见见他们。在电话簿上，我想是能够找到他们的住址的。”
“But if you don't want to scare them out of their wits and drive the children into screaming hysterics, I think you'd be wise to have your hair cut and your beard shaved.”
“不过有一点：假如你不想把他们的魂都吓掉，不想吓得孩子们喊起来，劝你先去剃个头，把胡子刮刮。”
He laughed.
他一听笑了起来。
“I've been thinking of it. There's no object in making myself conspicuous.”
“我正打算这么做呢。显然没有必要使自己这么招眼。”
“And while you're about it you might get yourself a new outfit.”
“除此之外，你还应该给自己弄一套新衣服。”
“I suppose I am a bit shabby. When I came to leave India I found that I had nothing but the clothes I stand up in.”
“我这一身也许真算得上衣衫褴褛了。临离开印度的时候，我才发现自己只有身上的这套行头了。”
He looked at the suit I was wearing, and asked me who my tailor was. I told him, but added that he was in Londonand so couldn't be of much use to him.We dropped the subject and he began to talk again of Gray and Isabel.
拉里说到这里，看了看我穿的衣服，问我是哪家裁缝做的。我告诉了他，但又补充了一句，说这家裁缝在伦敦，可能无法为他效力。我们撇开此事不提，又聊起了格雷和伊莎贝尔来。
“I've been seeing quite a lot of them，”I said.“They're very happy together. I've never had a chance of talking to Gray alone, and anyway I dare say he wouldn't talk to me about Isabel, but I know he's devoted to her.His face is rather sullen in repose and his eyes are harassed, but when he looks at Isabel such a gentle, kind look comes into them, it’s rather moving.I have a notion that all through their trouble she stood by him like a rock and he never forgets how much he owes her.You’ll find Isabel changed.”I didn’t tell him she was beautiful as she had never been before.I wasn’t sure he had the discernment to see how the pretty, strapping girl had made herself into the wonderfully graceful, delicate, and exquisite woman.There are men who are affronted by the aids that art can supply to feminine nature.“She’s very good to Gray.She’s taking infinite pains to restore his confidence in himself.”
“他们俩我是经常见的。”我说道，“他们把日子过得十分幸福。我一直没机会跟格雷单独交谈，其实就是单独交谈，他也不会跟我谈伊莎贝尔的。不过，我知道他对伊莎贝尔的感情非常深。静下来的时候，他表情阴郁、目光茫然，而一看到伊莎贝尔，他的眼睛里便有了柔情爱意，见了令人感动。我有一种感觉，在那些风风雨雨中，伊莎贝尔始终站在他身旁，坚如磐石，此恩此情他终生难忘。见了面，你会发现伊莎贝尔变了样。”我没告诉他，伊莎贝尔现在之美是以前任何时候都无法比拟的。以前的那个漂亮的高个子女孩已经变成了一个端庄典雅、仪态万方的美少妇，这一蜕变的过程谁知道他能不能辨得出来。世间有些男人，他们只喜欢天生的丽质，而不喜欢修饰出来的美。“她对格雷很好，尽了最大的力量帮助他恢复自信心。”我继续说道。
But it was growing late and I asked Larry if he would come along the boulevard and dine with me.
说话间，天色渐晚，我问拉里愿不愿跟我到街上找个地方吃晚饭。
“No, I don't think I will, thanks，”he answered.“I must be off.”
“不了，我就不去了。谢谢。”他回答说，“我得走了。”
He got up, nodded in a friendly way, and stepped out on to the pavement.
他站起来，亲亲热热点了个头，抽身离去，出了咖啡店，走到了人行道上。
