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雙語(yǔ)《馬丁·伊登》 第十九章

所屬教程:譯林版·馬丁·伊登

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2022年07月01日

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CHAPTER XIX

Ruth and her family were home again, and Martin, returned to Oakland, saw much of her. Having gained her degree, she was doing no more studying;and he, having worked all vitality out of his mind and body, was doing no writing. This gave them time for each other that they had never had before, and their intimacy ripened fast.

At first, Martin had done nothing but rest. He had slept a great deal, and spent long hours musing and thinking and doing nothing. He was like one recovering from some terrible bout of hardship. The first signs of re-awakening came when he discovered more than languid interest in the daily paper. Then he began to read again—light novels, and poetry; and after several days more he was head over heels in his long-neglected Fiske. His splendid body and health made new vitality, and he possessed all the resiliency and rebound of youth.

Ruth showed her disappointment plainly when he announced that he was going to sea for another voyage as soon as he was well rested.

“Why do you want to do that?” she asked.

“Money,” was the answer. “I’ll have to lay in a supply for my next attack on the editors. Money is the sinews of war, in my case—money and patience.”

“But if all you wanted was money, why didn’t you stay in the laundry?”

“Because the laundry was making a beast of me. Too much work of that sort drives to drink.”

She stared at him with horror in her eyes.

“Do you mean—?” she quavered.

It would have been easy for him to get out of it; but his natural impulse was for frankness, and he remembered his old resolve to be frank, no matter what happened.

“Yes,” he answered. “Just that. Several times.”

She shivered and drew away from him.

“No man that I have ever known did that—ever did that.”

“Then they never worked in the laundry at Shelly Hot Springs,” he laughed bitterly. “Toil is a good thing. It is necessary for human health, so all the preachers say, and Heaven knows I’ve never been afraid of it. But there is such a thing as too much of a good thing, and the laundry up there is one of them. And that’s why I’m going to sea one more voyage. It will be my last, I think, for when I come back, I shall break into the magazines. I am certain of it.”

She was silent, unsympathetic, and he watched her moodily, realizing how impossible it was for her to understand what he had been through.

“Some day I shall write it up—‘The Degradation of Toil’ or the‘Psychology of Drink in the Working-class,’ or something like that for a title.”

Never, since the first meeting, had they seemed so far apart as that day. His confession, told in frankness, with the spirit of revolt behind, had repelled her. But she was more shocked by the repulsion itself than by the cause of it. It pointed out to her how near she had drawn to him, and once accepted, it paved the way for greater intimacy. Pity, too, was aroused, and innocent, idealistic thoughts of reform. She would save this raw young man who had come so far. She would save him from the curse of his early environment, and she would save him from himself in spite of himself. And all this affected her as a very noble state of consciousness; nor did she dream that behind it and underlying it were the jealousy and desire of love.

They rode on their wheels much in the delightful fall weather, and out in the hills they read poetry aloud, now one and now the other, noble, uplifting poetry that turned one’s thoughts to higher things. Renunciation, sacrifice, patience, industry, and high endeavor were the principles she thus indirectly preached—such abstractions being objectified in her mind by her father, and Mr. Butler, and by Andrew Carnegie, who, from a poor immigrant boy had arisen to be the book-giver of the world.

All of which was appreciated and enjoyed by Martin. He followed her mental processes more clearly now, and her soul was no longer the sealed wonder it had been. He was on terms of intellectual equality with her. But the points of disagreement did not affect his love. His love was more ardent than ever, for he loved her for what she was, and even her physical frailty was an added charm in his eyes. He read of sickly Elizabeth Barrett, who for years had not placed her feet upon the ground, until that day of flame when she eloped with Browning and stood upright, upon the earth, under the open sky; and what Browning had done for her, Martin decided he could do for Ruth. But first, she must love him. The rest would be easy. He would give her strength and health. And he caught glimpses of their life, in the years to come, wherein, against a background of work and comfort and general wellbeing, he saw himself and Ruth reading and discussing poetry, she propped amid a multitude of cushions on the ground while she read aloud to him. This was the key to the life they would live. And always he saw that particular picture. Sometimes it was she who leaned against him while he read, one arm about her, her head upon his shoulder. Sometimes they pored together over the printed pages of beauty. Then, too, she loved nature, and with generous imagination he changed the scene of their reading—sometimes they read in closed-in valleys with precipitous walls, or in high mountain meadows, and, again, down by the gray sand-dunes with a wreath of billows at their feet, or afar on some volcanic tropic isle where waterfalls descended and became mist, reaching the sea in vapor veils that swayed and shivered to every vagrant wisp of wind. But always, in the foreground, lords of beauty and eternally reading and sharing, lay he and Ruth, and always in the background that was beyond the background of nature, dim and hazy, were work and success and money earned that made them free of the world and all its treasures.

“I should recommend my little girl to be careful,” her mother warned her one day.

“I know what you mean. But it is impossible. He is not—”

Ruth was blushing, but it was the blush of maidenhood called upon for the first time to discuss the sacred things of life with a mother held equally sacred.

“Your kind.” Her mother finished the sentence for her.

Ruth nodded.

“I did not want to say it, but he is not. He is rough, brutal, strong—too strong. He has not—”

She hesitated and could not go on. It was a new experience, talking over such matters with her mother. And again her mother completed her thought for her.

“He has not lived a clean life, is what you wanted to say.”

Again Ruth nodded, and again a blush mantled her face.

“It is just that,” she said. “It has not been his fault, but he has played much with—”

“With pitch?”

“Yes, with pitch. And he frightens me. Sometimes I am positively in terror of him, when he talks in that free and easy way of the things he has done—as if they did not matter. They do matter, don’t they?”

They sat with their arms twined around each other, and in the pause her mother patted her hand and waited for her to go on.

“But I am interested in him dreadfully,” she continued. “In a way he is my protégé. Then, too, he is my first boy friend—but not exactly friend;rather protégé and friend combined. Sometimes, too, when he frightens me, it seems that he is a bulldog I have taken for a plaything, like some of the ‘frat’ girls, and he is tugging hard, and showing his teeth, and threatening to break loose.”

Again her mother waited.

“He interests me, I suppose, like the bulldog. And there is much good in him, too; but there is much in him that I would not like in—in the other way. You see, I have been thinking. He swears, he smokes, he drinks, he has fought with his fists (he has told me so, and he likes it; he says so). He is all that a man should not be—a man I would want for my—” her voice sank very low—”husband. Then he is too strong. My prince must be tall, and slender, and dark—a graceful, bewitching prince. No, there is no danger of my failing in love with Martin Eden. It would be the worst fate that could befall me.”

“But it is not that that I spoke about,” her mother equivocated. “Have you thought about him? He is so ineligible in every way, you know, and suppose he should come to love you?”

“But he does—already,” she cried.

“It was to be expected,” Mrs. Morse said gently. “How could it be otherwise with any one who knew you?”

“Olney hates me!” she exclaimed passionately. “And I hate Olney. I feel always like a cat when he is around. I feel that I must be nasty to him, and even when I don’t happen to feel that way, why, he’s nasty to me, anyway. But I am happy with Martin Eden. No one ever loved me before—no man, I mean, in that way. And it is sweet to be loved—that way. You know what I mean, mother dear. It is sweet to feel that you are really and truly a woman.”She buried her face in her mother’s lap, sobbing. “You think I am dreadful, I know, but I am honest, and I tell you just how I feel.”

Mrs. Morse was strangely sad and happy. Her child-daughter, who was a bachelor of arts, was gone; but in her place was a woman-daughter. The experiment had succeeded. The strange void in Ruth’s nature had been filled, and filled without danger or penalty. This rough sailor-fellow had been the instrument, and, though Ruth did not love him, he had made her conscious of her womanhood.

“His hand trembles,” Ruth was confessing, her face, for shame’s sake, still buried. “It is most amusing and ridiculous, but I feel sorry for him, too. And when his hands are too trembly, and his eyes too shiny, why, I lecture him about his life and the wrong way he is going about it to mend it. But he worships me, I know. His eyes and his hands do not lie. And it makes me feel grown-up, the thought of it, the very thought of it; and I feel that I am possessed of something that is by rights my own—that makes me like the other girls—and—and young women. And, then, too, I knew that I was not like them before, and I knew that it worried you. You thought you did not let me know that dear worry of yours, but I did, and I wanted to—‘to make good,’ as Martin Eden says.”

It was a holy hour for mother and daughter, and their eyes were wet as they talked on in the twilight, Ruth all white innocence and frankness, her mother sympathetic, receptive, yet calmly explaining and guiding.

“He is four years younger than you,” she said. “He has no place in the world. He has neither position nor salary. He is impractical. Loving you, he should, in the name of common sense, be doing something that would give him the right to marry, instead of paltering around with those stories of his and with childish dreams. Martin Eden, I am afraid, will never grow up. He does not take to responsibility and a man’s work in the world like your father did, or like all our friends, Mr. Butler for one. Martin Eden, I am afraid, will never be a money-earner. And this world is so ordered that money is necessary to happiness—oh, no, not these swollen fortunes, but enough of money to permit of common comfort and decency. He—he has never spoken?”

“He has not breathed a word. He has not attempted to; but if he did, I would not let him, because, you see, I do not love him.”

“I am glad of that. I should not care to see my daughter, my one daughter, who is so clean and pure, love a man like him. There are noble men in the world who are clean and true and manly. Wait for them. You will find one some day, and you will love him and be loved by him, and you will be happy with him as your father and I have been happy with each other. And there is one thing you must always carry in mind—”

“Yes, mother.”

Mrs. Morse’s voice was low and sweet as she said, “And that is the children.”

“I—have thought about them,” Ruth confessed, remembering the wanton thoughts that had vexed her in the past, her face again red with maiden shame that she should be telling such things.

“And it is that, the children, that makes Mr. Eden impossible,” Mrs. Morse went on incisively. “Their heritage must be clean, and he is, I am afraid, not clean. Your father has told me of sailors’ lives, and—and you understand.”

Ruth pressed her mother’s hand in assent, feeling that she really did understand, though her conception was of something vague, remote, and terrible that was beyond the scope of imagination.

“You know I do nothing without telling you,” she began. “—Only, sometimes you must ask me, like this time. I wanted to tell you, but I did not know how. It is false modesty, I know it is that, but you can make it easy for me. Sometimes, like this time, you must ask me, you must give me a chance.”

“Why, mother, you are a woman, too!” she cried exultantly, as they stood up, catching her mother’s hands and standing erect, facing her in the twilight, conscious of a strangely sweet equality between them. “I should never have thought of you in that way if we had not had this talk. I had to learn that I was a woman to know that you were one, too.”

“We are women together,” her mother said, drawing her to her and kissing her. “We are women together,” she repeated, as they went out of the room, their arms around each other’s waists, their hearts swelling with a new sense of companionship.

“Our little girl has become a woman,” Mrs. Morse said proudly to her husband an hour later.

“That means,” he said, after a long look at his wife, “that means she is in love.”

“No, but that she is loved,” was the smiling rejoinder. “The experiment has succeeded. She is awakened at last.”

“Then we’ll have to get rid of him.” Mr. Morse spoke briskly, in matterof-fact, businesslike tones.

But his wife shook her head. “It will not be necessary. Ruth says he is going to sea in a few days. When he comes back, she will not be here. We will send her to Aunt Clara’s. And, besides, a year in the East, with the change in climate, people, ideas, and everything, is just the thing she needs.”

第十九章

露絲和家人都回到了府里。馬丁返回奧克蘭后,他們常見(jiàn)面。她拿上了學(xué)位,就不再看什么書了;而他累得心力交瘁,所以也沒(méi)有寫作。這樣,他們便有了大量時(shí)間相處,這是前所未有過(guò)的,兩人的關(guān)系一天天親密起來(lái)。

起初,馬丁無(wú)所事事,只顧一個(gè)勁地休息。他老是睡覺(jué),除此之外就長(zhǎng)時(shí)間地沉思默想,別的什么都不干。他像是經(jīng)歷了一場(chǎng)可怕的災(zāi)難,正在逐漸恢復(fù)。這種復(fù)蘇的最初跡象表現(xiàn)在他對(duì)日?qǐng)?bào)不再是漠不關(guān)心,而是產(chǎn)生了一定的興趣。接著,他又開(kāi)始看起書來(lái)——先是看輕松的小說(shuō),繼而讀詩(shī)歌;幾天之后,他便全神貫注地閱讀起擱置已久的費(fèi)斯克的作品來(lái)。他那強(qiáng)壯和健康的身體里又涌出了新的活力,青春又重新煥發(fā),回到了他的身上。

當(dāng)他聲稱自己一休息好還要再次出海遠(yuǎn)航時(shí),露絲明顯地露出了失望的神情。

“為什么要出海呢?”她問(wèn)。

“為了錢,”馬丁答道,“我得積聚實(shí)力,再次向編輯們發(fā)動(dòng)進(jìn)攻。錢就是軍費(fèi),而我既需要錢也需要耐心?!?/p>

“如果你想得到的僅僅是錢,那你為什么不留在洗衣店呢?”

“因?yàn)橄匆碌臧盐易兂闪艘活^牲口。那種活干得太多,就會(huì)把人逼得酗酒?!?/p>

她向他投來(lái)惶恐的目光。

“你是說(shuō)——?”她的聲音都在顫抖。

按說(shuō),要想擺脫眼前的困境也不難,可他生性喜歡直來(lái)直去,此時(shí)他沒(méi)忘記自己以前做出的決定:不管發(fā)生什么情況,對(duì)人都以坦誠(chéng)相見(jiàn)。

“是的,”他答道,“是那么回事,喝過(guò)幾回酒?!?/p>

她身子一哆嗦,朝后縮了縮。

“我認(rèn)識(shí)的人沒(méi)有一個(gè)喝酒——那是絕沒(méi)有的?!?/p>

“那是因?yàn)樗麄儧](méi)一個(gè)在雪萊溫泉旅館的洗衣店里干過(guò)活,”他苦笑一聲說(shuō),“勞動(dòng)是樁好事情,為保持健康所必需,所有的傳教士都這么說(shuō),上天知道我從來(lái)就不害怕勞動(dòng)。但有的時(shí)候,好事會(huì)過(guò)了頭變成壞事,洗衣店里的工作就屬于這種情況。所以,我要再次出海。我覺(jué)得這將是我的最后一次航行了,因?yàn)榛貋?lái)后,我就會(huì)打入雜志社。對(duì)此,我是有把握的?!?/p>

她沒(méi)有作聲,對(duì)他的話無(wú)動(dòng)于衷。他悶悶不樂(lè)地望著她,意識(shí)到如欲讓她理解他所經(jīng)歷過(guò)的事情,簡(jiǎn)直是不可能的。

“總有一天,我會(huì)把洗衣店里的生活詳細(xì)寫出——用《勞役使人墮落》或《工人階級(jí)中的喝酒心理》這一類題目?!?/p>

自打第一次見(jiàn)面以來(lái),他們似乎從未像今天這樣疏遠(yuǎn)過(guò)。他的坦率直言里隱含著反抗精神,這讓她感到厭惡。然而,使她最為吃驚的還不是厭惡本身,而是引起厭惡的原因。這說(shuō)明她和他已過(guò)于接近,她一旦承認(rèn)了這一點(diǎn),他們之間的關(guān)系會(huì)更加親密。憐憫之情在她的心里油然而生,隨之而至的是改造對(duì)方的天真和充滿理想主義色彩的念頭。她要挽救這個(gè)尚未成熟的墮落青年,使他擺脫早期環(huán)境種下的禍根,幫助他走上正道。她以為這是一種崇高的思想境界,可她萬(wàn)萬(wàn)想不到這種念頭的背后和深處暗藏著戀人的挑剔及欲望。

在秋高氣爽的季節(jié),他們常騎自行車外出兜風(fēng),到群山里輪流朗誦詩(shī)歌,朗誦那些催人向上、令人向往崇高事物的詩(shī)句。通過(guò)詩(shī)歌她所間接宣揚(yáng)的是克己、犧牲、忍耐、勤勉和發(fā)憤努力這樣的原則——在她的心目中,能夠體現(xiàn)這種抽象概念的是她的父親、勃特勒先生,以及安德魯·卡內(nèi)基——此人從一個(gè)窮苦的移民小孩奮斗成了青史留名的世界名人。

這一切都深得馬丁的欣賞和喜歡。現(xiàn)在他比較清楚地看出了她的心理活動(dòng),而她的靈魂不再是神奇的謎。他和她在智力上是平等的。不過(guò),他們之間觀點(diǎn)的分歧并未影響他的愛(ài)。他愛(ài)得反而更加熱烈了,因?yàn)樗麗?ài)的是她本人,連她嬌弱的身體在他眼里也增加了她的幾分魅力。在書上他看過(guò)體弱多病的伊麗莎白·巴萊特的事跡,那女人多年來(lái)從未下過(guò)床??墒怯幸惶靺s激情勃發(fā),和勃朗寧一道私奔,挺起腰桿站立于天地之間;勃朗寧為她做的事情,馬丁認(rèn)為自己也能為露絲做到。不過(guò),首先她必須愛(ài)他。剩下的事情就容易辦了。他可以給她帶來(lái)力量和健康。幾幕未來(lái)生活的場(chǎng)景在他的眼前閃現(xiàn),他看到自己在工作之余過(guò)著一種舒適、溫馨的日子,他和露絲一起朗讀、討論詩(shī)歌,露絲朗讀時(shí)坐在地板上,身子靠著一大堆靠墊。這就是他們未來(lái)生活的基本調(diào)子。他所看到的總是這樣的場(chǎng)景。有時(shí),由他朗讀,一條胳膊摟著她,而她緊偎在他的懷里,把腦袋枕在他肩上。有時(shí),兩人則一道在美麗的詩(shī)行中遨游。另外,她也是熱愛(ài)大自然的,所以他常常發(fā)揮豐富的想象力去改變讀書的環(huán)境——他們有時(shí)到懸崖峭壁環(huán)繞的山谷里,有時(shí)登上高山草地,有時(shí)臥身于灰白色的沙丘旁,腳下踩一圈起伏的沙浪,有時(shí)則遠(yuǎn)道前往一座熱帶火山島,那兒飛瀉的瀑布化云變霧沖向海洋,似縷縷水蒸氣在陣陣微風(fēng)的吹拂下游蕩和顫抖。但他和露絲總是處于前景,他們是美的主宰,時(shí)時(shí)都在讀詩(shī)和分享幸福,而大自然的背景后邊則是隱隱約約、朦朦朧朧閃現(xiàn)出工作、成就和掙來(lái)的金錢,這些錢可以使他們自由自在生活在這個(gè)世界上、充分享受人世間的財(cái)富。

“我可要?jiǎng)駝裎业男∨?,讓她多加留意?!币惶?,母親警告露絲說(shuō)。

“我明白你的意思??墒?,這是不可能的。他不是——”

露絲飛紅了臉。一個(gè)姑娘家在母親面前第一次論及生活中的神圣事情難免會(huì)紅臉,尤其是這位母親在她的心目中占有同樣神圣的位置。

“不是和你一類的人?!弊瞿赣H的把后半句話替她說(shuō)了出來(lái)。

露絲點(diǎn)了點(diǎn)頭。

“我本來(lái)不愿直說(shuō),但他和我的確不是一類人。他粗魯、野蠻、強(qiáng)壯——簡(jiǎn)直過(guò)于強(qiáng)壯。他的生活——”

她猶猶豫豫,無(wú)法再朝下說(shuō)。跟母親談?wù)撨@種事情對(duì)她而言是一種新的體驗(yàn)。這次,還是母親替她說(shuō)出了心里的看法。

“他的生活不潔不雅——這就是你想說(shuō)的話。”

露絲又點(diǎn)點(diǎn)頭,臉上又泛起了紅潮。

“正是這樣,”她說(shuō),“雖然并非他的過(guò)錯(cuò),可他接觸的盡是——”

“盡是骯臟的事情?”

“對(duì),盡是骯臟的事情。他讓我感到害怕。有時(shí),他講起自己的經(jīng)歷竟不遮不掩、輕輕松松,好像一點(diǎn)也不在乎,真叫人不寒而栗。他的經(jīng)歷是駭人的,對(duì)吧?”

她們倆坐在一起,相互用胳膊摟著對(duì)方的腰,沉默了片刻。后來(lái),她母親拍拍她的手,等待她繼續(xù)往下說(shuō)。

“不過(guò),我對(duì)他非常感興趣,”她朝下說(shuō)道,“從某種程度而言,他是我的學(xué)生。另外,他也是我交的第一個(gè)男朋友——但確切講又不是朋友,而是學(xué)生和朋友的綜合體。他讓我感到害怕的時(shí)候,我有時(shí)又覺(jué)得他像一條斗牛狗,我和一些喜歡狗的女大學(xué)生一樣把他當(dāng)成寵物,可他卻使勁掙扎,齜出牙齒,直想擺脫我?!蹦赣H仍未開(kāi)口,等她說(shuō)下去。

“依我看,他使我感興趣,是因?yàn)樗穸放9?。而且,他身上也有許多優(yōu)良品質(zhì);然而,他身上的另外一種我不喜歡的東西也的確不少。你要知道,我一直在考慮這方面的問(wèn)題。他罵人、抽煙、喝酒,還動(dòng)拳頭跟別人打過(guò)架(這是他親口告訴我的,而且說(shuō)他喜歡打架)。他根本不符合做人的標(biāo)準(zhǔn),絕不是我心目中的——”她把聲音壓得非常低——“丈夫。他的身材太魁梧了。我的白馬王子必須身材修長(zhǎng)、皮膚黝黑、風(fēng)度翩翩,叫我一見(jiàn)傾心。我絕對(duì)不可能愛(ài)上馬丁·伊登。如果愛(ài)上他,那才是天大的不幸呢。”

“我指的不是這個(gè),”她母親支支吾吾地說(shuō),“你考慮過(guò)他的情況嗎?他雖然各方面都沒(méi)資格,但假如他愛(ài)上你怎么辦呢?”

“他已經(jīng)——已經(jīng)愛(ài)上了我?!彼呗曊f(shuō)道。

“這是意料之中的事,”摩斯夫人柔聲細(xì)語(yǔ)地說(shuō),“凡是認(rèn)識(shí)你的人,有哪一個(gè)會(huì)不愛(ài)你呢?”

“奧爾奈就討厭我!”她情緒激昂地嚷嚷道,“我也討厭奧爾奈。他一在跟前,我總覺(jué)得自己像個(gè)惡女人。我覺(jué)得我必須對(duì)他惡聲惡氣,即便我沒(méi)這種感覺(jué),他也照樣會(huì)對(duì)我尖酸刻薄??墒呛婉R丁·伊登在一起,我卻心情愉快。沒(méi)有人那樣愛(ài)過(guò)——我是說(shuō)沒(méi)有男人那樣愛(ài)過(guò)我。得到那樣的愛(ài),給人以甜蜜的感覺(jué)。好媽媽,你知道我的意思。能感受到自己是個(gè)真正的女人,該有多幸福啊?!彼涯樎裨谀赣H的膝間,抽噎著,“你一定認(rèn)為我的想法太可怕,但我說(shuō)的都是實(shí)話,告訴你的都是我心里的感覺(jué)?!?/p>

摩斯夫人悲喜交集。她的文學(xué)學(xué)士小女兒不見(jiàn)了,取而代之的是一個(gè)成熟的女兒。實(shí)驗(yàn)取得了成功。露絲心靈里的那片不正常的空白被填滿了,不會(huì)有任何危險(xiǎn),也不會(huì)產(chǎn)生不良后果。這位粗魯?shù)乃衷谥虚g充當(dāng)了工具。雖然露絲并不愛(ài)他,可是他卻讓露絲認(rèn)識(shí)到了自己是個(gè)女人。

“他的手老是發(fā)抖,”露絲說(shuō),由于害羞,臉兒仍埋在母親的膝間,“他那副樣子實(shí)在滑稽可笑,不過(guò)我又為他感到難過(guò)。他的手抖得太厲害,眼光太咄咄逼人的時(shí)候,我就談他的生活,向他指出他改變生活所采取的方式是錯(cuò)誤的。我看得出他崇拜我,因?yàn)樗难劬褪质遣m不過(guò)人的。一想到這一點(diǎn),一想到他的崇拜,我就感到自己已經(jīng)長(zhǎng)大成人;我覺(jué)得自己獲得了應(yīng)該屬于我的東西——這樣?xùn)|西使我和其他的姑娘一樣,和其他的年輕女人一樣。以前我也知道自己與她們不同,知道你為此憂慮萬(wàn)分。你以為我不了解你的心事,但其實(shí)我是了解的,而且想——如馬丁·伊登所言‘干出成績(jī)來(lái)’?!?/p>

對(duì)母女倆來(lái)說(shuō),這是個(gè)神圣的時(shí)刻。兩人在暮色里促膝交談,淚水濕潤(rùn)了她們的眼睛。露絲說(shuō)話始終天真而坦率,充滿同情心的母親側(cè)耳靜聽(tīng),還心平氣和地對(duì)她解釋及引導(dǎo)。

“他比你小四歲。”母親說(shuō),“在社會(huì)上他未贏得一席之地,既無(wú)地位又無(wú)收入,而且非常不實(shí)際。既然愛(ài)上了你,按照常理,他就該干點(diǎn)事情,這樣才有資格結(jié)婚,而不應(yīng)瞎寫什么短篇小說(shuō),沉湎于幼稚的幻想。馬丁·伊登恐怕永遠(yuǎn)也長(zhǎng)不大。他不愿負(fù)起責(zé)任來(lái),不愿在社會(huì)上承擔(dān)男子漢的工作,就像你父親或我們所有的朋友那樣——如勃特勒先生便是其中的一個(gè)。馬丁·伊登恐怕永遠(yuǎn)也成不了一個(gè)掙錢養(yǎng)家的人。這個(gè)世界有一條規(guī)律:要想幸福,就離不開(kāi)錢。當(dāng)然,不一定大富大貴,只要夠維持一般性的舒適和像樣的生活就行了。他——他從來(lái)沒(méi)放出過(guò)話嗎?”

“連一個(gè)字也沒(méi)吐過(guò)。他沒(méi)做過(guò)這方面的嘗試;不過(guò),即便他嘗試,我也不會(huì)允許,因?yàn)槟阒牢也⒉粣?ài)他。”

“這讓我十分高興。我可不愿看到自己的女兒,自己冰清玉潔的獨(dú)生女兒,去愛(ài)一個(gè)他那樣的人。天下多的是純潔、真誠(chéng)和富于陽(yáng)剛之美的好男兒。你要耐心等待,總有一天會(huì)找到如意郎君,過(guò)上相親相愛(ài)的生活。和他在一起,你將會(huì)得到幸福,就像我和你父親一樣美滿。有一件事你必須時(shí)刻牢記心頭——”

“是,媽媽?!?/p>

摩斯夫人以低沉和親切的聲音說(shuō):“那就是孩子的問(wèn)題?!?/p>

“這事我也考慮過(guò)?!甭督z承認(rèn)說(shuō)。她想起自己曾一度產(chǎn)生過(guò)的淫蕩念頭,現(xiàn)在又講出這種話來(lái),少女的害羞心理使她的臉上又泛起了紅暈。

“正是考慮到孩子,才不能選擇伊登先生,”摩斯夫人入木三分地說(shuō),“后代的血統(tǒng)不能有臟污,而他恐怕并非清白之人。你父親給我講過(guò)水手的生活——這你是明白的?!?/p>

露絲緊緊握了握母親的手表示同意,覺(jué)得自己的確一清二楚,但實(shí)際上她想象不來(lái)水手的生活,對(duì)此只有一種模糊、縹緲和可怕的概念。

“你知道,我干任何事情都不會(huì)瞞著你?!彼f(shuō)道,“只不過(guò)有的時(shí)候你得開(kāi)口問(wèn)我,就像這次一樣。我原來(lái)是想告訴你的,但不知怎樣說(shuō)才好。我知道這是虛偽的矜持,但你可以為我創(chuàng)造條件,讓我輕輕松松說(shuō)出來(lái)。有時(shí),你得像這次一樣開(kāi)口問(wèn)我,給我機(jī)會(huì)?!?/p>

“媽媽,你也是女人呀!”她充滿喜悅地嚷嚷道。母女倆站起身來(lái),她拉住母親的手,挺直腰桿,在暮色中面對(duì)著她,想到她們兩人都是女性,親切之感便油然而生。“要不是咱們這樣交談,我怎么也不會(huì)把你當(dāng)作女人。我是了解了自己是個(gè)女人,才意識(shí)到你也是女人?!?/p>

“咱們都是女人?!蹦赣H把她拉到跟前,親吻著她說(shuō),“咱們都是女人?!眱扇俗叱龇块g時(shí),母親又重復(fù)了一遍。她們用胳膊摟住對(duì)方的腰肢,心里洋溢著一種志同道合的新感覺(jué)。

“咱們的小女兒長(zhǎng)大成人啦?!币恍r(shí)之后,摩斯夫人自豪地對(duì)丈夫說(shuō)。

“你的意思是,”他把妻子盯著瞧了好一會(huì)兒,才說(shuō)道,“你的意思是她戀愛(ài)啦?!?/p>

“不對(duì),是別人愛(ài)上她了,”對(duì)方笑盈盈地說(shuō),“實(shí)驗(yàn)取得了成功,她終于蘇醒了?!?/p>

“那么,咱們得把他打發(fā)掉啦?!蹦λ瓜壬f(shuō)話的口吻既輕松又實(shí)際,像做生意時(shí)一樣。

然而他的妻子卻搖了搖頭?!皼](méi)這個(gè)必要。露絲說(shuō)過(guò)幾天他要出海去。他回來(lái)的時(shí)候,她就不在這兒了。咱們把她送到克萊拉姑媽家去。再說(shuō),到東部住上一年,接觸一下不同的氣候、人物和觀念,一切都換個(gè)樣,正是她所需要的。”

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