牛津書蟲系列 多里安·格雷的畫像 12
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12
12 殺人者的手-“掀開那幅畫像，你會(huì)看見我的靈魂。”
It was the ninth of November， the evening before his thirty-eighth birthday. Dorian Gray was walking home from Lord Henry's house when he saw Basil Hallward.He felt strangely afraid and tried to pretend that he had not seen him，but Basil hurried after him.
11月9日，也就是他38歲生日的前一天晚上，多里安·格雷正從亨利勛爵家朝自己家走時(shí)看見了巴茲爾·霍爾沃德。他奇怪地覺得害怕，就假裝沒看見他。但是巴茲爾在后面緊追。
'Dorian!'he called.'What extraordinary luck!I'm catching the midnight train to Paris and I wanted to see you before I left.I'll be away from England for six months.'He put his hand on Dorian's arm.'Look，we're near your house.May I come in for a moment? I have something to say to you.'
“多里安!”他叫道，“太幸運(yùn)了!我要乘午夜的火車去巴黎，走之前我想見你。我要離開英格蘭半年。”他把手放在多里安的胳膊上。“瞧，我們離你家不遠(yuǎn)了，我可以進(jìn)去一會(huì)兒嗎?我有話對(duì)你說。”
'Of course.But won't you miss your train?'asked Dorian lazily，as he walked up the steps to his door.
“當(dāng)然可以。你不會(huì)誤車嗎?”多里安順著臺(tái)階朝房門口走，他懶洋洋地問。
'I have plenty of time.It's only eleven o'clock.'
“我有足夠的時(shí)間，現(xiàn)在剛11點(diǎn)。”
They went in and sat down by the fire.
他們進(jìn)屋，坐在爐火旁。
'Now，my dear Dorian，I want to speak to you seriously，'Basil began.'I must tell you that people in London are saying the most terrible things about you.'
“親愛的多里安，我現(xiàn)在想認(rèn)真地對(duì)你說一說。”巴茲爾開口了，“我必須告訴你倫敦的人正在談?wù)撚嘘P(guān)你的最可怕的事情。”
Dorian lit a cigarette and looked bored.'I don't want to know anything about it.It doesn't interest me.'
多里安點(diǎn)燃一支煙，顯得不耐煩。“我不想知道這些事，沒意思。”
'But it must interest you，Dorian，'said Basil.'Every gentleman is interested in his good name.Of course，when I look at you， I know that these stories can't be true.A man's face shows if his life is good or bad. But why does Lord Berwick leave the room when you enter it? Why does Lord Staveley say that no honest woman is safe with you? That young soldier， who was your friend—why did he kill himself?There was Sir Henry Ashton， who had to leave England with a bad name. And what about Lord Kent's son? What kind of life does he have now?'
“但是你應(yīng)該關(guān)注這些事，多里安。”巴茲爾說，“每位紳士都關(guān)心他的好名聲。當(dāng)然，我看你時(shí)，我就知道這些傳說都不是真的。一個(gè)人的臉能顯示他的生活是好還是壞。可為什么你進(jìn)房間后貝里克勛爵要離開?為什么斯特夫利勛爵說沒有一個(gè)誠實(shí)的女人會(huì)安全地和你在一起?那個(gè)年輕士兵，你的朋友——他為什么自殺了?亨利·阿什頓聲名狼藉地離開了英格蘭。還有肯特勛爵的兒子?他現(xiàn)在過著怎樣的生活?”
'Stop，Basil.You don't know what you're talking about，'said Dorian coldly.'Did I teach these people how to live their lives? And the people who tell these stories—are their lives any better than mine?'
“住嘴，巴茲爾，你不知道你在說些什么。”多里安冷冷地說，“我教這些人如何生活了嗎?講這些事情的人——他們的生活比我的好嗎?”
'And there are other stories too，'continued Basil.'Are they true? Can your life really be so bad，so evil? You were a fine young man once，but now，when I hear these stories，I wonder…Do I know you at all? What has happened to the real Dorian Gray? I think I would have to see your soul before I could answer those questions.'
“還有其它故事。”巴茲爾繼續(xù)說，“都是真的嗎?你的生活真的會(huì)這么壞，這么邪惡?你曾是個(gè)很好的年輕人，可是現(xiàn)在，我聽見這些故事時(shí)，我想……我了解你嗎?真正的多里安·格雷發(fā)生了什么事?我想我只有看見你的靈魂后才能回答那些問題。”
'The real Dorian Gray?'asked Dorian quietly， his face white with fear.
“真正的多里安·格雷?”多里安輕聲地問，他的臉已嚇得發(fā)白。
'Yes，'said the artist sadly.'But only God can see your soul.'
“是的。”畫家痛苦地說，“可只有上帝才能看見你的靈魂。”
A terrible laugh came from the younger man.'Come，Basil，'he cried.'Come with me!I will show you what only God can see. Why not?It's your own work. You've talked enough about evil.Now you must look at it.'
年輕點(diǎn)的人發(fā)出了可怕的笑聲。“來吧，巴茲爾。”他高聲說，“跟我來!我要帶你看只有上帝才能看見的東西。為什么不呢?那是你自己的作品。邪惡你講得夠多了，現(xiàn)在你必須看一看。”
He took Basil upstairs to the locked room.Inside，he turned to the artist，with smiling lips and cold， hard eyes.'You're the one man in the world who should know my secret.Are you sure that you want to?'
他帶著巴茲爾上樓來到鎖著的房間。進(jìn)屋后，他轉(zhuǎn)向畫家，嘴唇帶著笑容，眼神冷漠、嚴(yán)厲。“你是世界上應(yīng)該知道我的秘密的人。你確信想知道嗎?”
'Yes.'
“是的。”
'Then uncover that picture， Basil，and you will see my soul.'
“那么掀開畫像，巴茲爾，你會(huì)看見我的靈魂。”
A cry of horror came from the artist when he saw the terrible face in the portrait. How could that evil and unlovely face be Dorian Gray's?But yes，it was.He went nearer to the picture.It could not be the portrait that he had painted.But yes， there was his name written in the corner. He turned and looked at Dorian Gray with the eyes of a sick man.
畫家看見畫像可怕的臉時(shí)發(fā)出了恐怖的喊叫。那張邪惡可憎的臉怎么可能是多里安·格雷的?可真是的，它是。他又走近畫像，這不可能是他畫的那幅。然而的確是他畫的，畫像的一角寫有他的名字。他轉(zhuǎn)身用病人似的眼神看著多里安·格雷。
'What does this mean?'he asked at last.
“這是怎么回事?”他最后問。
'When you finished the portrait，'replied Dorian，'I made a wish…'
“你完成畫像時(shí)，”多里安答道，“我許了一個(gè)愿……”
'I remember，yes，'said Basil.'You wished that the picture could become old，and that you could stay young.But this…'He stared again at the picture.'This is impossible.And you told me that you'd destroyed the picture.'
“我記起來了。”巴茲爾說。“你希望畫像會(huì)變老，你會(huì)永遠(yuǎn)年輕?？墒沁@……”他又盯著畫像：“這是不可能的，而且你告訴我你已經(jīng)把畫像毀了。”
'I was wrong.It has destroyed me.'
“我錯(cuò)了，是畫像毀了我。”
'My God，Dorian!'cried the artist.'If this is true…If this is the face of your soul， then you are more evil than the worst of the stories about you.'He sat down at the table and put his face in his hands.'You must ask God for his help.'
“上帝，多里安!”畫家喊著，“如果這是真的……如果這是你靈魂的臉，那么你比關(guān)于你的最壞的傳說還要邪惡。”他坐在桌旁，手捂住臉。“你必須向上帝乞求幫助。”
'It's too late， Basil.'
“太遲了，巴茲爾。”
'It's never too late， Dorian.Look at that terrible face.Look at it!'
“還不晚，多里安。看那張可怕的臉，看啊!”
Dorian turned and stared at the face in the picture， and suddenly he hated Basil more than he had ever hated anyone in his life.Basil now knew his secret， and had seen the real Dorian Gray.Violent feelings burned inside Dorian.He picked up a knife from the table. Then the hate inside him exploded，and like a wild animal， he ran towards Basil，and dug the knife into the artist's neck，again and again and again.The murdered man's head fell forwards， and the blood ran slowly across the table，and down onto the floor.
多里安轉(zhuǎn)身凝視著畫像中的臉，突然他比一生中恨其他的人更恨巴茲爾。巴茲爾現(xiàn)在知道了他的秘密，也看見了真正的多里安·格雷。強(qiáng)烈的情感在多里安心中燃燒，他從桌上拿起了一把刀。心中的仇恨爆發(fā)了，他像一只野獸沖向巴茲爾，用刀刺進(jìn)了畫家的脖子，一刀又一刀。被殺人的頭朝前耷拉下來，鮮血慢慢流到桌子上，又流到地板上。
Dorian stood and listened. He could hear nothing—only the drip， drip of blood onto the floor. He went to the window and looked down into the street. He felt strangely calm. The friend who had painted his portrait had gone out of his life.That was all.
多里安站著聽聽動(dòng)靜，他聽不見任何聲音——只有鮮血流到地板上的嘀嗒聲。他走到窗邊，向下看著街道。他很平靜，這有點(diǎn)奇怪。給他畫像的朋友已經(jīng)從他的生活里消失了，僅此而已。
He locked the door behind him and went quietly downstairs.His servants were all in bed.He sat down and began to think.No one had seen Basil in Dorian's house tonight.Paris.Yes!Basil had gone to Paris， of course， so it would be six months before people asked where he was. Six months!That was more than enough time.
他鎖上身后的門，輕輕走下樓。仆人都在睡覺。他坐下開始思考。今晚沒人看見巴茲爾在多里安家。巴黎，是的!巴茲爾當(dāng)然去了巴黎。因此半年后人們才會(huì)問起巴茲爾在哪兒。半年!時(shí)間足夠了。
Dorian walked up and down the room. Then he took out a book from his desk and began to search for a name. Alan Campbell.Yes，that was the name that he wanted.
多里安在屋里踱步。然后他從書桌里取出一本書，開始找一個(gè)名字。艾倫·坎貝爾，是的，這就是他想找的名字。
12
It was the ninth of November， the evening before his thirty-eighth birthday. Dorian Gray was walking home from Lord Henry's house when he saw Basil Hallward.He felt strangely afraid and tried to pretend that he had not seen him，but Basil hurried after him.
'Dorian!'he called.'What extraordinary luck!I'm catching the midnight train to Paris and I wanted to see you before I left.I'll be away from England for six months.'He put his hand on Dorian's arm.'Look，we're near your house.May I come in for a moment? I have something to say to you.'
'Of course.But won't you miss your train?'asked Dorian lazily，as he walked up the steps to his door.
'I have plenty of time.It's only eleven o'clock.'
They went in and sat down by the fire.
'Now，my dear Dorian，I want to speak to you seriously，'Basil began.'I must tell you that people in London are saying the most terrible things about you.'
Dorian lit a cigarette and looked bored.'I don't want to know anything about it.It doesn't interest me.'
'But it must interest you，Dorian，'said Basil.'Every gentleman is interested in his good name.Of course，when I look at you， I know that these stories can't be true.A man's face shows if his life is good or bad. But why does Lord Berwick leave the room when you enter it? Why does Lord Staveley say that no honest woman is safe with you? That young soldier， who was your friend—why did he kill himself?There was Sir Henry Ashton， who had to leave England with a bad name. And what about Lord Kent's son? What kind of life does he have now?'
'Stop，Basil.You don't know what you're talking about，'said Dorian coldly.'Did I teach these people how to live their lives? And the people who tell these stories—are their lives any better than mine?'
'And there are other stories too，'continued Basil.'Are they true? Can your life really be so bad，so evil? You were a fine young man once，but now，when I hear these stories，I wonder…Do I know you at all? What has happened to the real Dorian Gray? I think I would have to see your soul before I could answer those questions.'
'The real Dorian Gray?'asked Dorian quietly， his face white with fear.
'Yes，'said the artist sadly.'But only God can see your soul.'
A terrible laugh came from the younger man.'Come，Basil，'he cried.'Come with me!I will show you what only God can see. Why not?It's your own work. You've talked enough about evil.Now you must look at it.'
He took Basil upstairs to the locked room.Inside，he turned to the artist，with smiling lips and cold， hard eyes.'You're the one man in the world who should know my secret.Are you sure that you want to?'
'Yes.'
'Then uncover that picture， Basil，and you will see my soul.'
A cry of horror came from the artist when he saw the terrible face in the portrait. How could that evil and unlovely face be Dorian Gray's?But yes，it was.He went nearer to the picture.It could not be the portrait that he had painted.But yes， there was his name written in the corner. He turned and looked at Dorian Gray with the eyes of a sick man.
'What does this mean?'he asked at last.
'When you finished the portrait，'replied Dorian，'I made a wish…'
'I remember，yes，'said Basil.'You wished that the picture could become old，and that you could stay young.But this…'He stared again at the picture.'This is impossible.And you told me that you'd destroyed the picture.'
'I was wrong.It has destroyed me.'
'My God，Dorian!'cried the artist.'If this is true…If this is the face of your soul， then you are more evil than the worst of the stories about you.'He sat down at the table and put his face in his hands.'You must ask God for his help.'
'It's too late， Basil.'
'It's never too late， Dorian.Look at that terrible face.Look at it!'
Dorian turned and stared at the face in the picture， and suddenly he hated Basil more than he had ever hated anyone in his life.Basil now knew his secret， and had seen the real Dorian Gray.Violent feelings burned inside Dorian.He picked up a knife from the table. Then the hate inside him exploded，and like a wild animal， he ran towards Basil，and dug the knife into the artist's neck，again and again and again.The murdered man's head fell forwards， and the blood ran slowly across the table，and down onto the floor.
Dorian stood and listened. He could hear nothing—only the drip， drip of blood onto the floor. He went to the window and looked down into the street. He felt strangely calm. The friend who had painted his portrait had gone out of his life.That was all.
He locked the door behind him and went quietly downstairs.His servants were all in bed.He sat down and began to think.No one had seen Basil in Dorian's house tonight.Paris.Yes!Basil had gone to Paris， of course， so it would be six months before people asked where he was. Six months!That was more than enough time.
Dorian walked up and down the room. Then he took out a book from his desk and began to search for a name. Alan Campbell.Yes，that was the name that he wanted.
12 殺人者的手-“掀開那幅畫像，你會(huì)看見我的靈魂。”
11月9日，也就是他38歲生日的前一天晚上，多里安·格雷正從亨利勛爵家朝自己家走時(shí)看見了巴茲爾·霍爾沃德。他奇怪地覺得害怕，就假裝沒看見他。但是巴茲爾在后面緊追。
“多里安!”他叫道，“太幸運(yùn)了!我要乘午夜的火車去巴黎，走之前我想見你。我要離開英格蘭半年。”他把手放在多里安的胳膊上。“瞧，我們離你家不遠(yuǎn)了，我可以進(jìn)去一會(huì)兒嗎?我有話對(duì)你說。”
“當(dāng)然可以。你不會(huì)誤車嗎?”多里安順著臺(tái)階朝房門口走，他懶洋洋地問。
“我有足夠的時(shí)間，現(xiàn)在剛11點(diǎn)。”
他們進(jìn)屋，坐在爐火旁。
“親愛的多里安，我現(xiàn)在想認(rèn)真地對(duì)你說一說。”巴茲爾開口了，“我必須告訴你倫敦的人正在談?wù)撚嘘P(guān)你的最可怕的事情。”
多里安點(diǎn)燃一支煙，顯得不耐煩。“我不想知道這些事，沒意思。”
“但是你應(yīng)該關(guān)注這些事，多里安。”巴茲爾說，“每位紳士都關(guān)心他的好名聲。當(dāng)然，我看你時(shí)，我就知道這些傳說都不是真的。一個(gè)人的臉能顯示他的生活是好還是壞?？蔀槭裁茨氵M(jìn)房間后貝里克勛爵要離開?為什么斯特夫利勛爵說沒有一個(gè)誠實(shí)的女人會(huì)安全地和你在一起?那個(gè)年輕士兵，你的朋友——他為什么自殺了?亨利·阿什頓聲名狼藉地離開了英格蘭。還有肯特勛爵的兒子?他現(xiàn)在過著怎樣的生活?”
“住嘴，巴茲爾，你不知道你在說些什么。”多里安冷冷地說，“我教這些人如何生活了嗎?講這些事情的人——他們的生活比我的好嗎?”
“還有其它故事。”巴茲爾繼續(xù)說，“都是真的嗎?你的生活真的會(huì)這么壞，這么邪惡?你曾是個(gè)很好的年輕人，可是現(xiàn)在，我聽見這些故事時(shí)，我想……我了解你嗎?真正的多里安·格雷發(fā)生了什么事?我想我只有看見你的靈魂后才能回答那些問題。”
“真正的多里安·格雷?”多里安輕聲地問，他的臉已嚇得發(fā)白。
“是的。”畫家痛苦地說，“可只有上帝才能看見你的靈魂。”
年輕點(diǎn)的人發(fā)出了可怕的笑聲。“來吧，巴茲爾。”他高聲說，“跟我來!我要帶你看只有上帝才能看見的東西。為什么不呢?那是你自己的作品。邪惡你講得夠多了，現(xiàn)在你必須看一看。”
他帶著巴茲爾上樓來到鎖著的房間。進(jìn)屋后，他轉(zhuǎn)向畫家，嘴唇帶著笑容，眼神冷漠、嚴(yán)厲。“你是世界上應(yīng)該知道我的秘密的人。你確信想知道嗎?”
“是的。”
“那么掀開畫像，巴茲爾，你會(huì)看見我的靈魂。”
畫家看見畫像可怕的臉時(shí)發(fā)出了恐怖的喊叫。那張邪惡可憎的臉怎么可能是多里安·格雷的?可真是的，它是。他又走近畫像，這不可能是他畫的那幅。然而的確是他畫的，畫像的一角寫有他的名字。他轉(zhuǎn)身用病人似的眼神看著多里安·格雷。
“這是怎么回事?”他最后問。
“你完成畫像時(shí)，”多里安答道，“我許了一個(gè)愿……”
“我記起來了。”巴茲爾說。“你希望畫像會(huì)變老，你會(huì)永遠(yuǎn)年輕?？墒沁@……”他又盯著畫像：“這是不可能的，而且你告訴我你已經(jīng)把畫像毀了。”
“我錯(cuò)了，是畫像毀了我。”
“上帝，多里安!”畫家喊著，“如果這是真的……如果這是你靈魂的臉，那么你比關(guān)于你的最壞的傳說還要邪惡。”他坐在桌旁，手捂住臉。“你必須向上帝乞求幫助。”
“太遲了，巴茲爾。”
“還不晚，多里安?？茨菑埧膳碌哪?，看啊!”
多里安轉(zhuǎn)身凝視著畫像中的臉，突然他比一生中恨其他的人更恨巴茲爾。巴茲爾現(xiàn)在知道了他的秘密，也看見了真正的多里安·格雷。強(qiáng)烈的情感在多里安心中燃燒，他從桌上拿起了一把刀。心中的仇恨爆發(fā)了，他像一只野獸沖向巴茲爾，用刀刺進(jìn)了畫家的脖子，一刀又一刀。被殺人的頭朝前耷拉下來，鮮血慢慢流到桌子上，又流到地板上。
多里安站著聽聽動(dòng)靜，他聽不見任何聲音——只有鮮血流到地板上的嘀嗒聲。他走到窗邊，向下看著街道。他很平靜，這有點(diǎn)奇怪。給他畫像的朋友已經(jīng)從他的生活里消失了，僅此而已。
他鎖上身后的門，輕輕走下樓。仆人都在睡覺。他坐下開始思考。今晚沒人看見巴茲爾在多里安家。巴黎，是的!巴茲爾當(dāng)然去了巴黎。因此半年后人們才會(huì)問起巴茲爾在哪兒。半年!時(shí)間足夠了。
多里安在屋里踱步。然后他從書桌里取出一本書，開始找一個(gè)名字。艾倫·坎貝爾，是的，這就是他想找的名字。
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