英語(yǔ)聽(tīng)力 學(xué)英語(yǔ),練聽(tīng)力,上聽(tīng)力課堂! 注冊(cè) 登錄
> 在線聽(tīng)力 > 有聲讀物 > 世界名著 > 譯林版·一個(gè)想象力豐富的女人:哈代短篇小說(shuō)選 >  第28篇

雙語(yǔ)·哈代短篇小說(shuō)選 老薔朵太太

所屬教程:譯林版·一個(gè)想象力豐富的女人:哈代短篇小說(shuō)選

瀏覽:

2022年06月29日

手機(jī)版
掃描二維碼方便學(xué)習(xí)和分享

Old Mrs. Chundle

The curate had not been a week in the parish, but the autumn morning proving fine he thought he would make a little water-colour sketch, showing a distant view of the Corvsgate ruin two miles off, which he had passed on his way hither. The sketch occupied him a longer time than he had anticipated. The luncheon hour drew on, and he felt hungry.

Quite near him was a stone-built old cottage of respectable and substantial build. He entered it, and was received by an old woman.

“Can you give me something to eat, my good woman?” he said. She held her hand to her ear.

“Can you give me something for lunch?” he shouted.

“Bread-and-cheese—anything will do.”

A sour look crossed her face, and she shook her head. “That's unlucky,” murmured he.

She reflected and said more urbanely: “Well, I'm going to have my own bit o' dinner in no such long time hence. 'Tis taters and cabbage, boiled with a scantling o' bacon. Would ye like it? But I suppose 'tis the wrong sort, and that ye would sooner have bread-and-cheese?”

“No, I'll join you. Call me when it is ready. I'm just out here.”

“Ay, I've seen ye. Drawing the old stones, bain't ye?”

“Yes, my good woman.”

“Sure 'tis well some folk have nothing better to do with their time. Very well. I'll call ye, when I've dished up.”

He went out and resumed his painting; till in about seven or ten minutes the old woman appeared at her door and held up her hand. The curate washed his brush, went to the brook, rinsed his hands proceeded to the house.

“There's yours,” she said, pointing to the table. “I'll have my bit here.” And she denoted the settle.

“Why not join me?”

“Oh, faith, I don't want to eat with my betters—not I.” And she continued firm in her resolution, and eat apart.

The vegetables had been well cooked over a wood fire—the only way to cook a vegetable properly—and the bacon was well-boiled. The curate ate heartily: he thought he had never tasted such potatoes and cabbage in his life, which he probably had not, for they had been just brought in from the garden, so that the very freshness of the morning was still in them. When he had finished he asked her how much he owed for the repast, which he had much enjoyed.

“Oh, I don't want to be paid for that bit of snack 'a b'lieve!”

“But really you must take something. It was an excellent meal.”

“'Tis all my own growing, that's true. But I don't take money for a bit o' victuals. I've never done such a thing in my life.”

“I should feel much happier if you would.”

She seemed unsettled by his feeling, and added as by compulsion, “Well, then; I suppose twopence won't hurt ye?”

“Twopence?”

“Yes. Twopence.”

“Why, my good woman, that's no charge at all. I am sure it is worth this, at least.” And he laid down a shilling.

“I tell 'ee 'tis twopence, and no more!” she said firmly. “Why, bless the man, it didn't cost me more than three halfpence, and that leaves me a fair quarter profit. The bacon is the heaviest item; that may perhaps be a penny. The taters I've got plenty of, and the cabbage is going to waste.”

He thereupon argued no further, paid the limited sum demanded, and went to the door. “And where does that road lead?” he asked, by way of engaging her in a little friendly conversation before parting, and pointing to a white lane which branched from the direct highway near her door.

“They tell me that it leads to Enckworth.”

“And how far is Enckworth?”

“Three mile, they say. But God knows if 'tis true.”

“You haven't lived here long, then?”

“Five-and-thirty year come Martinmas.”

“And yet you have never been to Enckworth?”

“Not I. Why should I ever have been to Enckworth? I never had any business there—a great mansion of a place, holding people that I've no more doings with than with the people of the moon. No, there's on'y two places I ever go to from year's end that's once a fortnight to Anglebury, to do my bit o' marketing; and once a week to my parish church.”

“Which is that?”

“Why, Kingscreech.”

“Oh—then you are in my parish?”

“Maybe. Just on the outskirts.”

“I didn't know the parish extended so far. I'm a newcomer. Well, I hope we may meet again. Good afternoon to you.”

When the curate was next talking to his rector he casually observed: “By the way, that's a curious old soul who lives out towards Corvsgate—old Mrs.—I don't know her name—a deaf old woman.”

“You mean old Mrs. Chundle, I suppose.”

“She tells me she's lived there five-and-thirty years, and has never been to Enckworth, three miles off. She goes to two places only, from year's end to year's end—to the market town, and to church on Sundays.”

“To church on Sundays. H'm. She rather exaggerates her travels, to my thinking. I've been rector here thirteen years, and I have certainly never seen her at church in my time.”

“A wicked old woman. What can she think of herself for such deception!”

“She didn't know you belonged here when she said it, and could find out the untruth of her story. I warrant she wouldn't have said it to me!” And the rector chuckled.

On reflection the curate felt that this was decidedly a case for his ministrations, and on the first spare morning he strode across to the cottage beyond the ruin. He found its occupant of course at home.

“Drawing picters again?” she asked, looking up from the hearth, where she was scouring the fire-dogs.

“No. I come on more important matters, Mrs. Chundle. I am the new curate of this parish.”

“You said you was last time. And after you had told me and went away I said to myself, he'll be here again sure enough, hang me if I didn't. And here you be.”

“Yes. I hope you don't mind?”

“Oh, no. You find us a roughish lot, I make no doubt?”

“Well, I won't go into that. But I think it was a very culpable—unkind thing of you to tell me you came to church every Sunday, when I find you've not been seen there for years.”

“Oh—did I tell 'ee that?”

“You certainly did.”

“Now I wonder what I did that for?”

“I wonder too.”

“Well, you could ha' guessed, after all, that I didn't come to any service. Lord, what's the good o' my lumpering all the way to church and back again, when I'm as deaf as a plock? Your own common sense ought to have told 'ee that 'twas but a figure o' speech, seeing you as a pa'son.”

“Don't you think you could hear the service if you were to sit close to the reading-desk and pulpit?”

“I'm sure I couldn't. O no—not a word. Why I couldn't hear anything even at that time when Isaac Coggs used to cry the Amens out loud beyond anything that's done nowadays, and they had the barrel-organ for the tunes—years and years agone, when I was stronger in my narves than now.”

“H'm—I'm sorry. There's one thing I could do, which I would with pleasure, if you'll use it. I could get you an ear-trumpet. Will you use it?”

“Ay, sure. That I woll. I don't care what I use—'tis all the same to me.”

“And you'll come?”

“Yes. I may as well go there as bide here, I suppose.”

The ear-trumpet was purchased by the zealous young man, and the next Sunday, to the great surprise of the parishioners when they arrived, Mrs. Chundle was discovered in the front seat of the nave of Kingscreech Church, facing the rest of the congregation with an unmoved countenance.

She was the centre of observation through the whole morning service. The trumpet, elevated at a high angle, shone and flashed in the sitters' eyes as the chief object in the sacred edifice.

The curate could not speak to her that morning, and called the next day to inquire the result of the experiment. As soon as she saw him in the distance she began shaking her head.

“No; no;” she said decisively as he approached. “I knowed 'twas all nonsense.”

“What?”

“'Twasn't a mossel o' good, and so I could have told 'ee before. A wasting your money in jimcracks upon a' old 'ooman like me.”

“You couldn't hear? Dear me—how disappointing.”

“You might as well have been mouthing at me from the top o' Creech Barrow.”

“That's unfortunate.”

“I shall never come no more—never—to be made such a fool of as that again.”

The curate mused. “I'll tell you what, Mrs. Chundle. There's one thing more to try, and only one. If that fails I suppose we shall have to give it up. It is a plan I have heard of, though I have never myself tried it; it's having a sound-tube fixed, with its lower mouth in the seat immediately below the pulpit, where you would sit, the tube running up inside the pulpit with its upper end opening in a bell-mouth just beside the book-board. The voice of the preacher enters the bell-mouth, and is carried down directly to the listener's ear. Do you understand?”

“Exactly.”

“And you'll come, if I put it up at my own expense?”

“Ay, I suppose. I'll try it, e'en though I said I wouldn't. I may as well do that as do nothing, I reckon.”

The kind-hearted curate, at great trouble to himself, obtained the tube and had it fixed vertically as described, the upper mouth being immediately under the face of whoever should preach, and on the following Sunday morning it was to be tried. As soon as he came from the vestry the curate perceived to his satisfaction Mrs. Chundle in the seat beneath, erect and at attention, her head close to the lower orifice of the sound-pipe, and a look of great complacency that her soul required a special machinery to save it, while other people's could be saved in a commonplace way. The rector read the prayers from the desk on the opposite side, which part of the service Mrs. Chundle could follow easily enough by the help of the prayer-book; and in due course the curate mounted the eight steps into the wooden octagon, gave out his text, and began to deliver his discourse.

It was a fine frosty morning in early winter, and he had not got far with his sermon when he became conscious of a steam rising from the bell-mouth of the tube, obviously caused by Mrs. Chundle's breathing at the lower end, and it was accompanied by a suggestion of onion-stew. However he preached on awhile, hoping it would cease, holding in his left hand his finest cambric handkerchief kept especially for Sunday morning services. At length, no longer able to endure the odour, he lightly dropped the handkerchief into the bell of the tube, without stopping for a moment the eloquent flow of his words; and he had the satisfaction of feeling himself in comparatively pure air.

He heard a fidgeting below; and presently there arose to him over the pulpit-edge a hoarse whisper: “The pipe's chokt!”

“Now, as you will perceive, my brethren,” continued the curate, unheeding the interruption; “by applying this test to ourselves, our discernment of—”

“The pipe's chokt!” came up in a whisper yet louder and hoarser.

“Our discernment of actions as morally good, or indifferent, will be much quickened, and we shall be materially helped in our—”

Suddenly came a violent puff of warm wind, and he beheld his handkerchief rising from the bell of the tube and floating to the pulpitfloor. The little boys in the gallery laughed, thinking it a miracle. Mrs. Chundle had, in fact, applied her mouth to the bottom end, blown with all her might, and cleared the tube. In a few seconds the atmosphere of the pulpit became as before, to the curate's great discomfiture. Yet stop the orifice again he dared not, lest the old woman should make a still greater disturbance and draw the attention of the congregation to this unseemly situation.

“If you carefully analyze the passage I have quoted,” he continued in somewhat uncomfortable accents, “you will perceive that it naturally suggests three points for consideration—”

(“It's not onions; it's peppermint,” he said to himself.)

“Namely, mankind in its unregenerate state—”

(“And cider.”)

“The incidence of the law, and loving kindness or grace, which we will now severally consider—”

(“And pickled cabbage. What a terrible supper she must have made!”)

“Under the twofold aspect of external and internal consciousness.”

Thus the reverend gentleman continued strenuously for perhaps five minutes longer: then he could stand it no more. Desperately thrusting his thumb into the hole he drew the threads of his distracted plug. But he stuck to the hole, and brought his sermon to a premature close.

He did not call on Mrs. Chundle the next week, a slight cooling of his zeal for her spiritual welfare being manifest; but he encountered her at the house of another cottager whom he was visiting; and she immediately addressed him as a partner in the same enterprize.

“I could hear beautiful!” she said. “Yes; every word! Never did I know such a wonderful machine as that there pipe. But you forgot what you was doing once or twice, and put your handkercher on the top o' en, and stopped the sound a bit. Please not to do that again, for it makes me lose a lot. Howsomever, I shall come every Sunday morning reg'lar now, please God.”

The curate quivered internally.

“And will ye come to my house once in a while and read to me?”

“Of course.”

Surely enough the next Sunday the ordeal was repeated for him. In the evening he told his trouble to the rector. The rector chuckled.

“You've brought it upon yourself.” he said. “You don't know this parish so well as I. You should have left the old woman alone.”

“I suppose I should!”

“Thank Heaven, she thinks nothing of my sermons, and doesn't come when I preach. Ha, ha!”

“Well,” said the curate somewhat ruffled, “I must do something. I cannot stand this. I shall tell her not to come.”

“You can hardly do that.”

“And I've half-promised to go and read to her. But—I shan't go.”

“She's probably forgotten by this time that you promised.”

A vision of his next Sunday in the pulpit loomed horridly before the young man, and at length he determined to escape the experience. The pipe should be taken down. The next morning he gave directions, and the removal was carried out.

A day or two later a message arrived from her, saying that she wished to see him. Anticipating a terrific attack from the irate old woman he put off going to her for a day, and when he trudged out towards her house on the following afternoon it was in a vexed mood. Delicately nurtured man as he was he had determined not to re-erect the tube, and hoped he might hit on some new modus vivendi, even if at the any inconvenience to Mrs. Chundle, in a situation that had become intolerable as it was last week.

“Thank Heaven, the tube is gone,” he said to himself as he walked; “and nothing will make me put it up again!”

On coming near he saw to his surprise that the calico curtains of the cottage windows were all drawn. He went up to the door, which was ajar; and a little girl peeped through the opening.

“How is Mrs. Chundle?” he asked blandly.

“She's dead, sir.” said the girl in a whisper.

“Dead?...Mrs. Chundle dead?”

“Yes, sir.”

A woman now came. “Yes, 'tis so, sir. She went off quite suddenlike about two hours ago. Well, you see, sir, she was over seventy years of age, and last Sunday she was rather late in starting for church, having to put her bit o' dinner ready before going out; and was very anxious to be in time. So she hurried overmuch, and runned up the hill, which at her time of life she ought not to have done. It upset her heart, and she's been poorly all the week since, and that made her send for 'ee. Two or three times she said she hoped you would come soon, as you'd promised to, and you were so staunch and faithful in wishing to do her good, that she knew 'twas not by your own wish you didn't arrive. But she would not let us send again, as it might trouble 'ee too much, and there might be other poor folks needing you. She worried to think she might not be able to listen to 'ee next Sunday, and feared you'd be hurt at it, and think her remiss. But she was eager to hear you again later on. However, 'twas ordained otherwise for the poor soul, and she was soon gone. ‘I've found a real friend at last,’ she said. ‘He's a man in a thousand. He's not ashamed of a' old woman, and he holds that her soul is worth saving as well as richer people's.’ She said I was to give you this.”

It was a small folded piece of paper, directed to him and sealed with a thimble. On opening it he found it to be what she called her will, in which she had left him her bureau, case-clock, settle, four-post to bedstead, and framed sampler—in fact all the furniture of any account that she possessed.

The curate went out, like Peter at the cock-crow. He was a meek young man, and as he went his eyes were wet. When he reached a lonely place in the lane he stood still thinking, and kneeling down in the dust of the road rested his elbow in one hand and covered his face with the other. Thus he remained some minute or so, a black shape on the hot white of the sunned trackway; till he rose, brushed the knees of his trousers, and walked on.

About 1888—1890; Published in 1929

老薔朵太太

副牧師來(lái)這個(gè)教區(qū)還不到一個(gè)禮拜,但這個(gè)秋日的早晨天朗氣清,于是他決定出去畫一幅水彩寫生,展示遠(yuǎn)眺兩英里外的科夫斯門城堡廢墟的畫面——他來(lái)的時(shí)候路過(guò)了那個(gè)廢墟。寫生花的時(shí)間比他預(yù)計(jì)的要長(zhǎng),午飯時(shí)間漸近,他感到肚子餓了。

在他附近有一個(gè)石頭建的古老的農(nóng)舍,看起來(lái)還算體面,面積也相當(dāng)大。他走了進(jìn)去,里面一位老婦人接待了他。

“老媽媽,你能給我一點(diǎn)吃的嗎?”他說(shuō)。

她把手舉到耳朵邊。

“你能給我一點(diǎn)吃的嗎?”他大聲喊,“面包和奶酪——隨便什么都行?!?/p>

她臉上閃過(guò)一絲不悅之色,搖了搖頭?!罢媸沁\(yùn)氣不佳呀?!彼匝宰哉Z(yǔ)。

她想了想,更文雅地說(shuō):“這樣,再過(guò)一下我自己也要吃正餐了。就是些土豆和卷心菜,加點(diǎn)培根一起煮的。你想不想來(lái)一點(diǎn)?但是我估計(jì)可能不對(duì)你的胃口,你更愿意吃面包和奶酪。”

“不不,我就跟你一起吃。等你做好了叫我,我就在外面?!?/p>

“曉得,我早就看到你了。你在畫那堆破石頭,是不是呀?”

“是的,老媽媽?!?/p>

“是咯,有的人就是找不到啥別的事情干來(lái)打發(fā)時(shí)間咯。好吧,等我做好飯了就喊你?!?/p>

他出去繼續(xù)作畫。大約七到十分鐘后,老婦人出現(xiàn)在門口朝他舉手示意。副牧師把畫筆涮了涮,走到小溪邊洗干凈手,走進(jìn)屋子里。

“你的在那兒?!彼噶酥缸雷樱拔以谶@兒吃?!彼种噶酥父弑骋?。

“你跟我坐一起吃吧?”

“哎喲,我可不敢跟貴人坐一起吃——那可不行?!彼龖B(tài)度十分堅(jiān)決,于是兩人便分開(kāi)就餐。

蔬菜是在柴火上做的,滋味十分美妙——烹飪蔬菜唯一正確的方式就是用柴火——培根煮得也恰到好處。副牧師吃得非常盡興,他覺(jué)得自己從沒(méi)吃到過(guò)這么美味的馬鈴薯和卷心菜,這倒的確有可能,因?yàn)樗鼈兌际乾F(xiàn)從菜園里收回來(lái)的,還帶著清晨的新鮮。他吃完后,說(shuō)自己非常享受這頓飯,問(wèn)應(yīng)該付她多少錢。

“噢,那么一丁點(diǎn)吃的,我可不能要錢。”

“但是你一定得收一點(diǎn)。真是美味的一餐?!?/p>

“確實(shí),這些都是我自己種的。但是我不會(huì)為一丁點(diǎn)吃的收錢。我這輩子都沒(méi)有干過(guò)這種事!”

“如果你能收錢,我會(huì)更安心一些?!?/p>

聽(tīng)了這話她有些為難,但為了照顧他的情緒,只好很勉強(qiáng)地說(shuō):“那好嘛,我想收兩便士應(yīng)該不會(huì)太多吧?”

“兩便士?”

“對(duì)頭,兩便士?!?/p>

“哎呀,老媽媽,這跟不要錢沒(méi)什么區(qū)別呀。我肯定它至少值這么多錢?!彼岩幌攘罘旁谧郎?。

“我給你說(shuō)了是兩便士,一分不多!”她固執(zhí)地說(shuō),“哎,這個(gè)人喲!這些東西最多花我一個(gè)半便士的成本,我收的錢還可以多賺至少半便士嘞!培根是最貴的,可能要花一個(gè)便士。土豆我多得很,卷心菜不吃也是要丟的!”

于是他沒(méi)有再爭(zhēng)辯,付了那微不足道的金額,然后走到門口?!澳菞l路通向哪里呀?”他打算告別之前跟她進(jìn)行幾句友好交談,便指著她門前不遠(yuǎn)的大路上一條分岔的白色小徑問(wèn)道。

“他們跟我說(shuō)這條路通往恩科沃斯?!?/p>

“這里離恩科沃斯有多遠(yuǎn)呢?”

“有三英里吧,他們說(shuō)。天曉得是不是真的?!?/p>

“所以你也才來(lái)此地不久?”

“到圣馬丁節(jié)就三十五年咯?!?/p>

“但是你還從來(lái)沒(méi)去過(guò)恩科沃斯?”

“沒(méi)去過(guò)。我為啥要去恩科沃斯?我沒(méi)啥事要去那兒辦——那兒都是些高樓大廈,里頭住的人對(duì)我來(lái)說(shuō)就跟住在月亮上差不多,跟我八竿子打不著。我一年到頭只會(huì)去兩個(gè)地方:每?jī)蓚€(gè)禮拜去一趟安戈布里趕集;每個(gè)禮拜去一趟教區(qū)教堂?!?/p>

“是哪一個(gè)教堂?”

“呃,君士里奇?!?/p>

“噢——原來(lái)你在我的教區(qū)呀?”

“可能吧。就在邊上?!?/p>

“我還不知道這個(gè)教區(qū)轄地居然有這么遠(yuǎn)。我是新來(lái)的。嗯,希望我們還能見(jiàn)面。再見(jiàn)!”

副牧師再次跟牧師聊天時(shí)順便提及了此事?!皩?duì)了,住在遠(yuǎn)處往科夫斯門去的方向的那個(gè)老太太可真古怪——叫什么太太來(lái)的——我不知道她的名字——就是那個(gè)又老又聾的婦人?!?/p>

“我估計(jì)你說(shuō)的是老薔朵太太吧?!?/p>

“她告訴我她在那里住了有三十五年了,但她卻從沒(méi)去過(guò)恩科沃斯,雖然只有三英里遠(yuǎn)。她一年到頭只去過(guò)兩個(gè)地方——去集市趕集,還有禮拜天上教堂?!?/p>

“禮拜天上教堂,嗯哼。我認(rèn)為她對(duì)自己的旅行范圍夸大其詞了。我在這里當(dāng)了十三年的牧師,但是還從來(lái)沒(méi)有在教堂里頭見(jiàn)過(guò)她呢?!?/p>

“真是個(gè)可惡的老婦人!她是怎么想的,竟然說(shuō)出這種謊言!”

“她說(shuō)這話時(shí)肯定不知道你是這個(gè)教區(qū)的,會(huì)發(fā)現(xiàn)她在撒謊。我敢保證她絕不會(huì)對(duì)我說(shuō)這話的!”牧師竊笑著說(shuō)。

副牧師思量了一番,覺(jué)得這事絕對(duì)在他職責(zé)之內(nèi),于是一得空的當(dāng)天上午,他就大步流星,越過(guò)廢墟,來(lái)到農(nóng)舍。那位住戶自然是在家的。

“又來(lái)畫畫啦?”她正蹲在壁爐前刷洗支木柴的炭架,抬起頭來(lái)看見(jiàn)是他,便問(wèn)道。

“不,我是為了一件更重要的事而來(lái),薔朵太太。我是這個(gè)教區(qū)新來(lái)的副牧師?!?/p>

“你上次說(shuō)過(guò)咯。你說(shuō)完走了以后,我就給自己說(shuō),他肯定還會(huì)再來(lái)的,要是不來(lái)就吊死我。結(jié)果你今天就來(lái)咯?!?/p>

“是的,希望你不介意?”

“噢,不會(huì)。我敢說(shuō)你發(fā)覺(jué)我們都是些鄉(xiāng)巴佬了哇?”

“嗯,我們先不談那個(gè)。但是我覺(jué)得你告訴我你每個(gè)禮拜天都去教堂,但事實(shí)上你很多年都沒(méi)去過(guò),實(shí)在是很大的罪過(guò)——很不應(yīng)該!”

“噢,我是這樣給你說(shuō)的哇?”

“你的確是這樣說(shuō)的。”

“奇怪,我當(dāng)時(shí)為啥要這樣說(shuō)嘞?”

“我也覺(jué)得奇怪。”

“唉,其實(shí),你應(yīng)該猜得出來(lái),我為啥不去做禮拜。上帝呀,我都聾得像塊木頭一樣咯,有啥必要一路拖起腳走去教堂又走回來(lái)嘛?你應(yīng)該有常識(shí),曉得我說(shuō)那個(gè)話只是打個(gè)比方,因?yàn)榭吹侥闶莻€(gè)牧師嘛?!?/p>

“如果你坐得離布道壇和講臺(tái)近一點(diǎn)也許就能聽(tīng)得見(jiàn)禮拜了呢?”

“我肯定聽(tīng)不到,不行——真的一個(gè)字都聽(tīng)不到。就是在當(dāng)年,艾薩克·科格思還在的時(shí)候,他都是大聲吼著禱告,比現(xiàn)在的這些人聲音大多咯,而且他們還用手搖風(fēng)琴唱贊美詩(shī),但是我都完全聽(tīng)不到——那還是好多好多年以前,那個(gè)時(shí)候我的膽子比現(xiàn)在大得多嘞。”

“嗯——很遺憾。我有一個(gè)辦法,假如你愿意的話,我會(huì)很樂(lè)意去做。我可以給你買一個(gè)喇叭助聽(tīng)器。你愿意用嗎?”

“啊,當(dāng)然,我肯定愿意。我無(wú)所謂用啥咯——對(duì)我來(lái)說(shuō)都一樣?!?/p>

“那你會(huì)來(lái)參加禮拜吧?”

“好吧。反正我去一趟跟待在家里也沒(méi)啥區(qū)別,我覺(jué)得?!?/p>

這位熱心的年輕人自己掏錢買了個(gè)喇叭助聽(tīng)器。第二個(gè)禮拜天,教眾們到達(dá)教堂時(shí)非常吃驚地發(fā)現(xiàn)薔朵太太坐在君士里奇教堂中殿的前排,正對(duì)著大家坐著,面無(wú)表情。

整個(gè)早課期間她都是大家關(guān)注的焦點(diǎn)。那個(gè)喇叭高高地豎著,明晃晃、亮閃閃,成了這個(gè)圣殿里最引人矚目的東西。

那天上午副牧師沒(méi)能跟她說(shuō)上話,于是第二天便去拜訪她詢問(wèn)試驗(yàn)的結(jié)果。她遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)地一看到他就開(kāi)始搖頭。

“不行,不行!”看他走近,她斬釘截鐵地說(shuō),“我就曉得這些東西都沒(méi)啥用!”

“?。俊?/p>

“真的一點(diǎn)用都沒(méi)有,我應(yīng)該早點(diǎn)跟你說(shuō)的。你給我這個(gè)老太婆買這些花里胡哨的東西真的是浪費(fèi)錢咯!”

“你還是聽(tīng)不見(jiàn)?天哪——真是太令人失望了。”

“就跟你站在科里奇山上對(duì)我只動(dòng)嘴不出聲地說(shuō)話一樣!”

“太不幸了?!?/p>

“我再也不來(lái)做禮拜了——永遠(yuǎn)不——我可不想再被當(dāng)猴耍了?!?/p>

副牧師沉思了半晌。“薔朵太太,聽(tīng)我說(shuō),還有一個(gè)辦法可以試一試,也只有這一個(gè)了。如果還不奏效,我想我們就只能放棄了。這個(gè)辦法我也只是聽(tīng)說(shuō),但自己從來(lái)沒(méi)試過(guò)。它是把一根傳聲管安裝固定,低的一頭對(duì)著布道壇正下方的座位,你就坐在那里,傳聲管經(jīng)過(guò)布道壇內(nèi)部向上升起,另一端是一個(gè)喇叭口,就裝在講臺(tái)上放經(jīng)書(shū)的架子旁。牧師的聲音進(jìn)入喇叭口,再直接傳到下面聽(tīng)者的耳朵里。你明白嗎?”

“明白了?!?/p>

“如果我自己花錢裝一個(gè),你會(huì)來(lái)做禮拜吧?”

“好吧,那我就來(lái)咯。我可以試一下,雖然我剛說(shuō)了不去咯。反正試一下也沒(méi)啥關(guān)系?!?/p>

好心眼兒的副牧師于是費(fèi)了很大的勁兒買到了管子,再如他描述的一樣,找人把管子垂直固定住,上面的喇叭口就在講道人的臉部正下方,不管換誰(shuí)來(lái)講都一樣,第二個(gè)禮拜天早上就可以試試效果了。副牧師一走出祭衣室,就非常滿意地看到了薔朵太太。她就坐在講壇下方的座位上,腰挺得筆直、神情專注,頭就挨著傳聲管低的那一端的管口,看起來(lái)無(wú)比自得,因?yàn)樽约旱撵`魂需要特別的裝置才能拯救,而其他人都只要尋常方式就夠了。副牧師先在布道壇對(duì)面的讀經(jīng)臺(tái)上念祈禱文,這部分儀式薔朵太太只要看著祈禱書(shū)就能輕松跟上;接下來(lái)副牧師便爬上八級(jí)臺(tái)階來(lái)到了八角形的木制布道壇,大聲誦讀了要闡釋的經(jīng)文,然后開(kāi)始布道。

這是個(gè)初冬的清晨,地面下過(guò)霜,天氣晴好。他的布道剛開(kāi)始沒(méi)多久,就發(fā)現(xiàn)有水汽從傳聲管的喇叭口那兒冒出來(lái),很顯然是下方薔朵太太呼氣造成的,還帶著一股燉洋蔥的味道。不過(guò)他還是繼續(xù)演講,左手捏著他的只在禮拜天早課時(shí)才佩戴的最上等的細(xì)麻紗手帕,希望過(guò)一陣這味道就能消失。最后他終于無(wú)法忍受這氣味了,輕輕把手帕蓋在了傳聲管的喇叭口上,但并沒(méi)有停止那雄辯流暢的演講;他很滿意周圍的空氣終于相對(duì)清新了。

他聽(tīng)到底下有人騷動(dòng)了一下。接著布道壇邊緣傳來(lái)一個(gè)沙啞的低語(yǔ)聲:“管子遭堵住咯!”

“那么,我的弟兄們啊,你們可以看到,”副牧師忽略掉這干擾,繼續(xù)說(shuō)道,“我們?nèi)魧⑦@考驗(yàn)加于我們自身,便能更快看清——”

“管子遭堵住咯!”低語(yǔ)聲更大更嘶啞了。

“便能更快看清這些行為道德上是向善,還是漠然,我們便能得到實(shí)質(zhì)的幫助——”

突然有一陣猛烈的熱風(fēng)吹來(lái),他看到他的手帕從傳聲管喇叭口冉冉升起,飄落到布道壇地板上。二樓的樓座上有小男孩“嘻嘻”笑起來(lái),以為看到了神跡。事實(shí)上是薔朵太太把嘴對(duì)準(zhǔn)了管子的底端,用盡全身力氣吹氣,把管子給吹通了。幾秒鐘后,布道壇里的空氣就如之前一般了,讓副牧師極為崩潰。但他又不敢再把管口堵上,生怕老婦人會(huì)弄出更大的響動(dòng),把會(huì)眾的注意力都吸引過(guò)來(lái),看見(jiàn)這極不得體的場(chǎng)面。

“假如你們仔細(xì)研讀我引用的章節(jié)的話,”他繼續(xù)說(shuō),語(yǔ)氣聽(tīng)起來(lái)有些別扭,“你們便會(huì)發(fā)現(xiàn)它指出了三點(diǎn)值得我們注意——”

(“這不是洋蔥,是薄荷?!彼谛睦锇蛋嫡f(shuō)。)

“這就是,人類在不知悔改的狀態(tài)下——”

(“還有蘋果酒?!保?/p>

“法律、仁愛(ài)與恩典這幾件事,我們要分開(kāi)來(lái)考察——”

(“還有腌卷心菜。她做的這頓正餐可真是夠糟糕的!”)

“要看它的外在意識(shí)和內(nèi)在意識(shí)兩個(gè)方面?!?/p>

這位副牧師紳士又繼續(xù)艱難地講了大約五分鐘,然后他再也無(wú)法忍受了,他絕望地用大拇指堵住了那個(gè)洞口,然后重新拾回已經(jīng)七零八落的線索繼續(xù)布道,與此同時(shí)聽(tīng)到她拼命吹氣想疏通管道。但是他死死堵住洞口,盡快結(jié)束了他的布道。

之后一周,他都沒(méi)有去拜訪薔朵太太,對(duì)拯救她的靈魂的熱忱顯然已經(jīng)降溫。然而他在探視另一位農(nóng)舍居民時(shí)遇到了她,她立刻跟他說(shuō)起話來(lái),像是把他當(dāng)成了事業(yè)搭檔一般。

“我聽(tīng)得到啦!”她說(shuō),“真的,每個(gè)字都清清楚楚!我從來(lái)都不曉得還有管子這種好東西。但是有一兩次不知道你在想啥,把帕子落在上頭,把聲音隔斷咯,害得我有好長(zhǎng)一段都錯(cuò)過(guò)了,下次請(qǐng)不要再這樣啦。不過(guò)啊,從現(xiàn)在開(kāi)始我每個(gè)禮拜天早上都要來(lái),愿我主開(kāi)恩?!?/p>

副牧師內(nèi)心在顫抖。

“你能不能隔一陣到我家來(lái)一趟給我讀經(jīng)?”

“當(dāng)然可以?!?/p>

第二個(gè)禮拜天他自然又經(jīng)歷了一遍這殘酷考驗(yàn)。傍晚時(shí)他把這苦惱告訴了牧師,牧師又竊笑起來(lái)。

“你這是自找的,”他說(shuō),“你對(duì)這個(gè)教區(qū)不如我了解。你本該讓這個(gè)老太太自生自滅的?!?/p>

“我想我本該這樣的!”

“感謝上帝,她對(duì)我的布道毫無(wú)興趣,在我傳道時(shí)不會(huì)來(lái)聽(tīng)。哈哈!”

副牧師有些惱怒地說(shuō):“哼,我一定得做點(diǎn)什么。我再也受不了了。我要告訴她別來(lái)了?!?/p>

“你不可能這么做?!?/p>

“我還差不多答應(yīng)了要去給她讀經(jīng)。但是——我不會(huì)去的。”

“她這會(huì)兒很可能已經(jīng)忘了你答應(yīng)過(guò)她了吧?!?/p>

年輕人眼前浮現(xiàn)出下一個(gè)禮拜天他站在布道壇里的可怕景象,最后他決定要避免這樣的事再發(fā)生,管子必須拿掉。第二天一早,他就下達(dá)了指令,傳聲管被卸掉了。

一兩天后,她請(qǐng)人帶信來(lái),說(shuō)她想要見(jiàn)他。他預(yù)計(jì)這位生氣的老婦人可能會(huì)狠狠地怒斥他一通,于是便推遲了一天才去見(jiàn)她。等到第二天下午他舉步維艱地向她家走去時(shí),心里又苦惱又不安。雖然他也算富有教養(yǎng)的謙謙君子,但他已下定決心絕不把管子再裝回去,并希望能找到個(gè)新的“權(quán)宜之計(jì)”來(lái)解決這個(gè)從上禮拜對(duì)他來(lái)說(shuō)就已無(wú)法忍受的局面,哪怕會(huì)給薔朵太太造成各種不便。

“感謝上天,管子總算拆掉了,”他邊走邊對(duì)自己說(shuō),“無(wú)論如何我都不會(huì)再把它裝回去!”

他走近時(shí),很驚訝地發(fā)現(xiàn)屋子里所有白棉布窗簾全都拉上了。他走到門前,門是掩著的。一個(gè)小女孩從門縫里向外窺探。

“薔朵太太還好嗎?”他溫和地問(wèn)。

“她死了,先生。”女孩低聲回答。

“死了?……薔朵太太死了?”

“是的,先生?!?/p>

一個(gè)女人走了出來(lái)?!笆堑模褪沁@樣,先生。她大概是兩個(gè)小時(shí)以前走的,走得很突然。哎,先生,你曉得的,她都已經(jīng)七十多歲咯,上個(gè)禮拜天她去教堂的時(shí)候出發(fā)得有點(diǎn)晚,因?yàn)樗咧耙劝阉恼蜏?zhǔn)備好。她很著急,生怕遲到。結(jié)果她就一路跑上山,用力太猛了,她這么大年紀(jì)的人就不應(yīng)該這樣子。結(jié)果就導(dǎo)致她心臟不舒服,后面這一個(gè)星期身體都很差,所以她就讓人去找你。她說(shuō)了兩三次,希望你能快點(diǎn)來(lái),因?yàn)槟愦饝?yīng)過(guò)她會(huì)來(lái),而且你一直都很堅(jiān)持很真誠(chéng)地對(duì)她好,所以她知道你來(lái)不了肯定是迫不得已。但是她不肯讓我們?cè)偃ソ心悖绿驍_你了,而且可能是有其他窮人正需要你。她很擔(dān)心下個(gè)禮拜天不能去聽(tīng)你布道了,怕你會(huì)覺(jué)得傷心,以為她是偷懶不來(lái)了。但她其實(shí)是很想再去聽(tīng)你布道的。可是天命難違啊,她很快就走了?!疫@輩子最后終于有了一個(gè)真朋友,’她說(shuō),‘真的是千里挑一的好人哪。他不嫌棄我這個(gè)老太婆,還覺(jué)得我的靈魂跟那些比較富有的人的靈魂一樣值得拯救?!屛野堰@個(gè)交給你?!?/p>

那是張折起來(lái)的小紙片,寫著他的名字,塞在一個(gè)頂針中間。他打開(kāi)來(lái),發(fā)現(xiàn)這是她所謂的遺囑,里面寫著她的柜子、座鐘、四柱床架、鑲框的刺繡樣品都留給他——事實(shí)上這是她所有能稱得上是家具的東西了。

副牧師走出了門,像是聽(tīng)到了雞鳴時(shí)的彼德。[1]他是個(gè)溫和的年輕人,走著走著眼眶濕潤(rùn)了。等他來(lái)到小徑無(wú)人處,他站定想了又想,跪在了塵土中,一手扶著手肘,另一只手掩住了臉。

他就這樣一動(dòng)不動(dòng)跪了幾分鐘,被陽(yáng)光照得溫?zé)岬陌咨缴鲜撬呛谏纳碛?。然后他站起身?lái),撣了撣膝蓋,繼續(xù)朝前走去。

寫于一八八八至一八九〇年;發(fā)表于一九二九年二月

雙語(yǔ)譯林 壹力文庫(kù)

* * *

[1]此典故來(lái)自《圣經(jīng)·新約》,在《馬太福音》《馬可福音》《路加福音》《約翰福音》以及《使徒行傳》中均有記載。彼得(全名西門彼得,又名西門,或作彼得),是耶穌的十二門徒之一,也是耶穌最喜愛(ài)的三門徒之一。耶穌在被猶大出賣前的最后的晚餐上,曾經(jīng)預(yù)言當(dāng)天晚上在雞叫以前,彼得會(huì)三次不認(rèn)他;彼得信誓旦旦要與耶穌同生共死,但當(dāng)耶穌真的被捕、被折磨時(shí),他果然三次否認(rèn)認(rèn)識(shí)耶穌。直到聽(tīng)到雞鳴時(shí),他記起了耶穌的預(yù)言,放聲痛哭,并幡然悔悟。

用戶搜索

瘋狂英語(yǔ) 英語(yǔ)語(yǔ)法 新概念英語(yǔ) 走遍美國(guó) 四級(jí)聽(tīng)力 英語(yǔ)音標(biāo) 英語(yǔ)入門 發(fā)音 美語(yǔ) 四級(jí) 新東方 七年級(jí) 賴世雄 zero是什么意思淄博市西冶街小區(qū)英語(yǔ)學(xué)習(xí)交流群

  • 頻道推薦
  • |
  • 全站推薦
  • 推薦下載
  • 網(wǎng)站推薦