Yet rumours were at once in circulation from the middle of Bond Street to Oxford Street on one side, to Atkinson’s scent shop on the other, passing invisibly, inaudibly, like a cloud, swift, veil- like upon hills, falling indeed with something of a cloud’s sudden sobriety and stillness upon faces which a second before had been utterly disorderly. But now mystery had brushed them with her wing; they had heard the voice of authority; the spirit of religion was abroad with her eyes bandaged tight and her lips gaping wide. But nobody knew whose face had been seen. Was it the Prince of Wales’s, the Queen’s, the Prime Minister’s? Whose face was it? Nobody knew.
然而，各种流言蜚语即刻传播了起来。那流言从邦德街中心一路传到了牛津街，又一路传到了阿特金森香水店。无形又无声的流言在传播着，如一团云雾在快速流动，如高山上的迷雾，这突如其来的庄严而宁静的一片云确确实实地罩住了一秒钟前还在那里困惑不已的人们的脸。可现在，神秘的翅膀拂过了他们的脸颊，他们听见了权威的声音。一股宗教的情绪蔓延开来，令她瞠目结舌。可是，没有人知道他们看见的那张脸究竟是谁。是威尔士王子吗，是王后吗，是首相大人吗？是谁的脸呢？没人知道。
The violent explosion which made Mrs. Dalloway jump and Miss Pym go to the window and apologise came from a motor car which had drawn to the side of the pavement precisely opposite Mulberry’s shop window. Passers-by who, of course, stopped and stared, had just time to see a face of the very greatest importance against the dove-grey upholstery, before a male hand drew the blind and there was nothing to be seen except a square of dove grey.
剧烈的爆胎声，令达洛维夫人大吃一惊，令皮姆小姐奔到了窗边并对此深感歉疚，来自一辆正停在马贝利花店橱窗对面的人行道边的轿车。当然啰，路人们停下了脚步，驻足观看，刚好看见淡灰色的车厢内露出一张要人的脸。一个男人随即拉上了窗帘，于是什么也看不见了，除了车厢内的一方灰暗。
Septimus Warren Smith, aged about thirty, pale-faced, beak-nosed, wearing brown shoes and a shabby overcoat, with hazel eyes which had that look of apprehension in them which makes complete strangers apprehensive too. The world has raised its whip; where will it descend?
塞普提默斯·沃伦·史密斯，三十左右，脸色苍白，鹰钩鼻，穿着棕色的皮鞋，寒碜的大衣，淡褐色的眼睛里流露出一种忧虑的神色，陌生人要是见了他的这种眼神也会生出一份忧虑来的。世界已经举起了皮鞭，它会落向何方呢？
Septimus Warren Smith, who found himself unable to pass, heard him.
塞普提默斯·沃伦·史密斯，被人流挡住了去路，听见了他说的这句话。
Edgar J. Watkiss, with his roll of lead piping round his arm, said audibly, humorously of course: “The Proime Minister’s kyar.”
艾德加·杰·华特基斯，手臂上缠着一圈铅管，高声说道，当然是以幽默的口吻：“是朽相大人的叉子[10]。”【注：[10]伦敦土音，是首相大人的车子。】
Everything had come to a standstill. The throb of the motor engines sounded like a pulse irregularly drumming through an entire body. The sun became extraordinarily hot because the motor car had stopped outside Mulberry’s shop window; old ladies on the tops of omnibuses spread their black parasols; here a green, here a red parasol opened with a little pop. Mrs. Dalloway, coming to the window with her arms full of sweet peas, looked out with her little pink face pursed in enquiry. Every one looked at the motor car. Septimus looked. Boys on bicycles sprang off. Traffic accumulated. And there the motor car stood, with drawn blinds, and upon them a curious pattern like a tree, Septimus thought, and this gradual drawing together of everything to one centre before his eyes, as if some horror had come almost to the surface and was about to burst into flames, terrified him. The world wavered and quivered and threatened to burst into flames. It is I who am blocking the way, he thought. Was he not being looked at and pointed at; was he not weighted there, rooted to the pavement, for a purpose? But for what purpose?
一切都已停滞下来。汽车引擎的扑扑声如不规则的脉搏在上下震响。阳光变得异常炽热，这时那辆汽车停在了马贝利花店橱窗的外面。坐在双层大巴顶层的老妇人们打开了遮阳伞，这里一把绿伞，那里一把红伞，啪的一声轻轻地打开了。达洛维夫人，手上抱满了甜豌豆，跑到窗口张望着，她那张粉红的小脸好奇地抬了起来。大家全都看着那辆汽车。塞普提默斯看着，骑自行车的小伙子们从车上跳了下来，车辆越积越多。那辆轿车就停在那儿，拉着窗帘，帘子上的图案很是奇特，像是一棵树，塞普提默斯这么觉得。在他眼前的所有事物渐渐地都被他本人的气场吸引了过去，就好像某种恐怖马上就要浮出水面，即将爆炸，即将燃烧，这景象把他吓坏了。世界在动摇着，在颤抖着，眼看就要变成一座燃烧的地狱。是我挡住了别人的路吗，他想到。别人不都在看着他，对他指指戳戳的吗？难道他不是像被钉在了人行道上一样，故意地僵立在那里吗？可他为什么要故意呢？
The chauffeur, who had been opening something, turning something, shutting something, got on to the box.
那个司机，刚才一直在那里打开、转动、又关上什么东西，此时坐回了驾驶室。
“Let us go on, Septimus,” said his wife, a little woman, with large eyes in a sallow pointed face; an Italian girl.
“我们走吧，塞普提默斯，”他妻子说。她是个小女人，菜色的尖脸蛋上长着一对大眼睛——一个意大利姑娘。
But Lucrezia herself could not help looking at the motor car and the tree pattern on the blinds. Was it the Queen in there — the Queen going shopping?
可卢克蕾西娅自己也忍不住看着那辆轿车，和它窗帘上隐约如树木般的图案。坐在车上的是女王吗——是女王出来买东西吗？
But her husband, for they had been married four, five years now, jumped, started, and said, “All right!” angrily, as if she had interrupted him.
可她的丈夫，他们已经结婚四五年了，诧异地跳了起来，生气地说道：“好吧！”好像她碍了他什么事似的。
“Come on,” said Lucrezia.
“走吧，”卢克蕾西娅说。
People must notice; people must see. People, she thought, looking at the crowd staring at the motor car; the English people, with their children and their horses and their clothes, which she admired in a way; but they were “people” now, because Septimus had said, “I will kill myself”; an awful thing to say. Suppose they had heard him? She looked at the crowd. Help, help! she wanted to cry out to butchers’ boys and women. Help! Only last autumn she and Septimus had stood on the Embankment wrapped in the same cloak and, Septimus reading a paper instead of talking, she had snatched it from him and laughed in the old man’s face who saw them! But failure one conceals. She must take him away into some park.
人们一定注意到了，人们一定看见了他俩。人们，她想，盯着那辆汽车瞅的人们——英国人，他们的孩子，他们的骏马，他们的服装，她还是比较欣赏的。可他们现在只是“人们”，因为塞普提默斯说过，“我会自杀的”，这句话真难听。如果被别人听见了咋办？她看着人群。救命，救命！她想向肉铺的小伙计和女人们呼救。救命！就在去年秋天，她和塞普提默斯还穿着一样的斗篷站在堤岸上，塞普提默斯只顾着看报纸，一句话也不说，她从他的手里把报纸抢了过去，当着一个路过的老头的面哈哈大笑起来！可人们通常会掩饰失败。她必须把他带走，带到某个公园里去。
She had a right to his arm, though it was without feeling. He would give her, who was so simple, so impulsive, only twenty-four, without friends in England, who had left Italy for his sake, a piece of bone.
她有权挽着他的胳膊，尽管已经没什么感觉了。他会把干瘦的手臂给她，而她如此单纯，如此热情，才二十四岁，在英国无亲无友，为了他，离开了意大利。
The motor car with its blinds drawn and an air of inscrutable reserve proceeded towards Piccadilly, still gazed at, still ruffling the faces on both sides of the street with the same dark breath of veneration whether for Queen, Prince, or Prime Minister nobody knew. The face itself had been seen only once by three people for a few seconds. Even the sex was now in dispute. But there could be no doubt that greatness was seated within; greatness was passing, hidden, down Bond Street, removed only by a hand’s- breadth from ordinary people who might now, for the first and last time, be within speaking distance of the majesty of England, of the enduring symbol of the state which will be known to curious antiquaries, sifting the ruins of time, when London is a grass- grown path and all those hurrying along the pavement this Wednesday morning are but bones with a few wedding rings mixed up in their dust and the gold stoppings of innumerable decayed teeth. The face in the motor car will then be known.
拉着窗帘的轿车，以一副隐藏着什么秘密的姿态向着皮卡迪里驶去。一路上依然受到人们的关注，依然以同样尊贵的、令人景仰的气质引得街道两旁路人脸上的表情起了变化，虽说没有人知道这景仰的对象究竟是女王、王子还是首相。刚才只有三个人看见了那张脸，不过只有那么短暂的一刹那。现在，甚至对那人的性别都起了争议。不过，坐在车上的是个伟人这一点是不容置疑的。伟人正经过此地，藏而不露，向着邦德街而去，离普通人只有一臂之遥。也许在人们的生命里，这是第一次也是最后一次，与英国的权威人物，与这个国家的不朽象征近在咫尺。这个人物只有在好奇的考古学家对岁月的废墟进行一一筛选之后才会浮出水面，而到那时伦敦也会变成一条芳草萋萋的道路。在这个星期三的早晨，匆匆走在这条人行道上的所有人都会变作一堆白骨，在尸骨的尘土中间或许会掺杂着几枚婚戒，在难以计数的烂牙里掺杂着几粒金牙。轿车里的那张脸只有等到那个时候才会水落石出。
“Now we will cross,” she said.
“现在我们好过马路了，”她说。
It is probably the Queen, thought Mrs. Dalloway, coming out of Mulberry’s with her flowers; the Queen. And for a second she wore a look of extreme dignity standing by the flower shop in the sunlight while the car passed at a foot’s pace, with its blinds drawn. The Queen going to some hospital; the Queen opening some bazaar, thought Clarissa.
也许是女王，达洛维夫人想，一边拿着她的花走出了马贝利花店，是女王在车内。她站在阳光下的花店旁，看着那辆拉着窗帘的轿车从她身边开过，脸上一时露出了颇为庄重的神色。女王是要去哪家医院，女王是要去为哪场义卖剪彩，克拉丽莎想。
The crush was terrific for the time of day. Lords, Ascot, Hurlingham, what was it? she wondered, for the street was blocked. The British middle classes sitting sideways on the tops of omnibuses with parcels and umbrellas, yes, even furs on a day like this, were, she thought, more ridiculous, more unlike anything there has ever been than one could conceive; and the Queen herself held up; the Queen herself unable to pass. Clarissa was suspended on one side of Brook Street; Sir John Buckhurst, the old Judge on the other, with the car between them (Sir John had laid down the law for years and liked a well-dressed woman) when the chauffeur, leaning ever so slightly, said or showed something to the policeman, who saluted and raised his arm and jerked his head and moved the omnibus to the side and the car passed through. Slowly and very silently it took its way.
才这个时辰，交通已经拥挤成这副模样了。洛兹板球场、爱斯科特赛马场、赫林根马球场，今天有什么赛事吗？她想，因为已经开始封路了。坐在巴士顶层两侧的英国中产阶级人士，手里拿着包裹和阳伞，是啊，甚至在这种天气也有人依然穿着皮草，她想，无论你能想象出什么东西，都不会比这更荒诞、更怪异的了。女王本人也被拦下来了，女王本人也无法通过。克拉丽莎被堵在布鲁克街的一侧，约翰·巴克赫斯特爵士，就是那个老法官，被堵在另一侧，中间正隔着那辆车（约翰爵士多年来参与立法，他喜欢衣着入时的女士）。那个司机，微微地斜了一下身子，对警察说着什么，抑或是在给警察看什么东西，警察对他行了个礼，抬起胳膊，甩了甩头，把大巴诱导到路边，让那辆轿车通过。它缓缓地、悄无声息地开走了。
The car had gone, but it had left a slight ripple which flowed through glove shops and hat shops and tailors’ shops on both sides of Bond Street. For thirty seconds all heads were inclined the same way — to the window. Choosing a pair of gloves — should they be to the elbow or above it, lemon or pale grey?– ladies stopped; when the sentence was finished something had happened. Something so trifling in single instances that no mathematical instrument, though capable of transmitting shocks in China, could register the vibration; yet in its fulness rather formidable and in its common appeal emotional; for in all the hat shops and tailors’ shops strangers looked at each other and thought of the dead; of the flag; of Empire. In a public house in a back street a Colonial insulted the House of Windsor which led to words, broken beer glasses, and a general shindy, which echoed strangely across the way in the ears of girls buying white underlinen threaded with pure white ribbon for their weddings. For the surface agitation of the passing car as it sunk grazed something very profound.
车子开走了，但在邦德街两边的手套、帽子和成衣店里激起了一阵微弱的涟漪。所有的脑袋都朝向同一个方向——窗口，大约维持了三十秒。正在选手套的——长度是到肘部还是肘部以上呢，颜色是要柠檬黄还是浅灰呢？——女士们停了下来。一句话刚说完，什么事情已经发生了。这种事情要是独自发生，就会是微不足道的小事，没有一种数学仪器，哪怕是能将震动传到中国去的仪器，能够记录下它造成的颤抖。然而要是事情会聚到一起就相当可怕了，它们能够激发起情感的起伏。因为在每一家帽店里，在每一家成衣店里，彼此陌生的人们互相瞅瞅，想到了死去的人，想到了旗帜，想到了大英帝国。在一条小巷里的酒吧间，一个来自殖民地的人侮辱了温莎王室[11]，导致了争论，打破了啤酒瓶，大闹了一场，吵闹声异样地回响在街对面的姑娘们的耳朵里，她们在那里购买婚礼用的饰有纯白蕾丝的白内衣。因为那辆远去的轿车造成的表面上的激动渐渐消逝了，但某种更深层次的东西却又被搅动了起来。【注：[11]1917年以来对英王室的称呼，温莎是王室的姓氏。】
Clarissa guessed; Clarissa knew of course; she had seen something white, magical, circular, in the footman’s hand, a disc inscribed with a name,– the Queen’s, the Prince of Wales’s, the Prime Minister’s?– which, by force of its own lustre, burnt its way through (Clarissa saw the car diminishing, disappearing), to blaze among candelabras, glittering stars, breasts stiff with oak leaves, Hugh Whitbread and all his colleagues, the gentlemen of England, that night in Buckingham Palace. And Clarissa, too, gave a party. She stiffened a little; so she would stand at the top of her stairs.
克拉丽莎猜到了，她当然知道了。她看见了那位男司机手里的那个白色的、圆形的、具有魔力的东西，是一张上面刻有名字的圆牌——是女王的，威尔士王子的，还是首相大人的呢？——它，靠着它自身的光彩，照亮了前进的路途（克拉丽莎看着那辆车渐行渐远，终于消逝不见了）。今晚它将在白金汉宫里，在枝形大烛台中间，在闪耀的明星中间，在佩戴着橡叶勋章的硬挺的胸膛之间，在休·惠特布莱德和他的同僚之间，在英国的绅士们中间，闪闪放光。克拉丽莎也一样，也要举办派对。她微微挺了挺身，她将以这种姿势站在楼梯口迎接宾客。
Gliding across Piccadilly, the car turned down St. James’s Street. Tall men, men of robust physique, well-dressed men with their tail- coats and their white slips and their hair raked back who, for reasons difficult to discriminate, were standing in the bow window of Brooks’s with their hands behind the tails of their coats, looking out, perceived instinctively that greatness was passing, and the pale light of the immortal presence fell upon them as it had fallen upon Clarissa Dalloway. At once they stood even straighter, and removed their hands, and seemed ready to attend their Sovereign, if need be, to the cannon’s mouth, as their ancestors had done before them. The white busts and the little tables in the background covered with copies of the Tatler and syphons of soda water seemed to approve; seemed to indicate the flowing corn and the manor houses of England; and to return the frail hum of the motor wheels as the walls of a whispering gallery return a single voice expanded and made sonorous by the might of a whole cathedral. Shawled Moll Pratt with her flowers on the pavement wished the dear boy well (it was the Prince of Wales for certain) and would have tossed the price of a pot of beer — a bunch of roses — into St. James’s Street out of sheer light-heartedness and contempt of poverty had she not seen the constable’s eye upon her, discouraging an old Irishwoman’s loyalty. The sentries at St. James’s saluted; Queen Alexandra’s policeman approved.
那辆车灵巧地穿过皮卡迪里，拐进了圣詹姆斯街。身材魁梧的男人，体格彪悍的男人，穿着燕尾服、白衬衣，头发往后梳的时髦男士，为了什么难以分辨的理由，都站在布鲁克斯酒店的凸窗前。他们双手摆在燕尾服的后面，望着窗外，本能地觉察到有大人物正经过这里，不朽的伟人用白色的光芒罩住了他们，如刚才罩住克拉丽莎·达洛维一样。他们立刻站得更挺直了，手也挪动了位置，仿佛准备好了要为君王效劳。如果需要，他们会像那些先烈一般，甘愿献身。酒店后面的石膏半身像，放着几本《闲谈者》杂志和几只苏打水瓶的小桌子，都似乎在表示赞许，似乎代表着英国的五谷丰登和庄园府邸，似乎在反射那车轮的细微声响，如回音廊的墙壁反射出一个声音，又通过整个教堂的力量，使之宽广洪亮。披着围巾的莫尔·普拉特拿着鲜花站在人行道上，祝福那可爱的小青年万事如意（车内一定是威尔士王子），要不是看见警察在盯着她，动摇了她这个爱尔兰老妇人的忠诚，她就会把那一束玫瑰——相当于一罐啤酒的钱——扔到圣詹姆斯街上，仅仅是出于轻松的心情和对贫穷的蔑视。圣詹姆斯宫的岗哨敬了个礼，亚历山德拉王后[12]的警察表示赞许。【注：[12]亚历山德拉王后（1844~1925），英国国王爱德华七世之妻。】
A small crowd meanwhile had gathered at the gates of Buckingham Palace. Listlessly, yet confidently, poor people all of them, they waited; looked at the Palace itself with the flag flying; at Victoria, billowing on her mound, admired her shelves of running water, her geraniums; singled out from the motor cars in the Mall first this one, then that; bestowed emotion, vainly, upon commoners out for a drive; recalled their tribute to keep it unspent while this car passed and that; and all the time let rumour accumulate in their veins and thrill the nerves in their thighs at the thought of Royalty looking at them; the Queen bowing; the Prince saluting; at the thought of the heavenly life divinely bestowed upon Kings; of the equerries and deep curtsies; of the Queen’s old doll’s house; of Princess Mary married to an Englishman, and the Prince — ah! the Prince! who took wonderfully, they said, after old King Edward, but was ever so much slimmer. The Prince lived at St. James’s; but he might come along in the morning to visit his mother.
与此同时，一小群人聚集在白金汉宫的大门外。无精打采的，然而又是自信满满的人们，他们全都是穷人，他们都等在那里，看着国旗飘扬的宫殿[13]，看着维多利亚女王的雕像，站在基座上，裙裾飞扬，赞叹着在她旁边的一波波流水，还有她的天竺葵。他们在商业街来往的车流中，时而挑出这一辆，时而挑出那一辆，向开车出游的老百姓徒劳地表达着敬意，在这辆那辆车经过时，再把它们的敬意回收起来以便保鲜。他们一想到有王室成员在看着他们，就始终听任胡思乱想在他们的血管里会聚，刺激他们的大腿神经。女王在鞠躬，王子在敬礼，他们想到了天堂般的生活神圣地降临在国王们的头上，想到了侍从武官和屈膝礼，想到了女王幼时的玩偶馆，想到了玛丽公主[14]嫁给了一个英国人，而王子——啊！王子！他们说，他像极了老爱德华国王，不过要比老国王瘦多了。王子住在圣詹姆斯宫，不过他今天早上可能会过来问候他母亲。【注：[13]白金汉宫上飘着国旗，表示国王在宫内。[14]玛丽公主（1897~1965），乔治五世之女，嫁给了第六代赫利伍德伯爵。】
So Sarah Bletchley said with her baby in her arms, tipping her foot up and down as though she were by her own fender in Pimlico, but keeping her eyes on the Mall, while Emily Coates ranged over the Palace windows and thought of the housemaids, the innumerable housemaids, the bedrooms, the innumerable bedrooms. Joined by an elderly gentleman with an Aberdeen terrier, by men without occupation, the crowd increased. Little Mr. Bowley, who had rooms in the Albany and was sealed with wax over the deeper sources of life but could be unsealed suddenly, inappropriately, sentimentally, by this sort of thing — poor women waiting to see the Queen go past — poor women, nice little children, orphans, widows, the War — tut- tut — actually had tears in his eyes. A breeze flaunting ever so warmly down the Mall through the thin trees, past the bronze heroes, lifted some flag flying in the British breast of Mr. Bowley and he raised his hat as the car turned into the Mall and held it high as the car approached; and let the poor mothers of Pimlico press close to him, and stood very upright. The car came on.
手里抱着孩子的萨拉·布莱切利这样说，两只脚一上一下地晃悠着，就好像是在皮姆里科自家的火炉围栏旁，可她的眼睛始终盯着商业街方向；而艾米莉·寇茨则在望着皇宫的窗户，想着侍女，不计其数的侍女，卧室，不计其数的卧室。一个牵着条阿伯丁猎狗的老绅士也加入进来，无业游民们也加入进来，人群越发壮大。矮小的鲍利先生，他在阿尔巴尼区有几处房产，他那深邃饱满的生命之泉已被蜡封了，但也可以被突然地、不合适地、感情用事地、诸如此类地解封——穷女人等着看女王经过——穷女人，可爱的小孩子，孤儿们，寡母们，战争——啧，啧——泪水竟然涌上了他的眼睛。一阵和煦的微风穿过稀疏的树林欢欢喜喜地吹向市场街，吹过英雄们的青铜像，吹得鲍利先生心中的英国国旗飘扬了起来。在那辆轿车转向市场街时，他举起了帽子，看见车子靠近他时，他把帽子举得老高。他直挺挺地站着，皮姆里科的穷母亲们挤到了他的身旁。轿车开过来了。
Dropping dead down the aeroplane soared straight up, curved in a loop, raced, sank, rose, and whatever it did, wherever it went, out fluttered behind it a thick ruffled bar of white smoke which curled and wreathed upon the sky in letters. But what letters? A C was it? an E, then an L? Only for a moment did they lie still; then they moved and melted and were rubbed out up in the sky, and the aeroplane shot further away and again, in a fresh space of sky, began writing a K, an E, a Y perhaps?
飞机猛然俯冲，随即又直上云霄，接着是翻筋斗斜飞，速度超快，忽而下降，忽而上升。无论它怎么飞，无论它往哪儿飞，尾巴后面总拖着一股波浪般的白色浓烟，白烟不住地翻腾，在空中形成了一个个字母。可是那是些什么字母呢？是字母A和C吗？是一个E，接着是一个L吗？这些字母只是稍作停留，立刻就会变幻、融化，最后消逝在空中。飞机向着更远的地方疾飞，又在另一片干净的天空里，写出了一个K，一个E，还有一个也许是Y吧。
Suddenly Mrs. Coates looked up into the sky. The sound of an aeroplane bored ominously into the ears of the crowd. There it was coming over the trees, letting out white smoke from behind, which curled and twisted, actually writing something! making letters in the sky! Every one looked up.
寇茨太太突然抬头仰望天空。飞机的轰鸣声不祥地钻入人们的耳蜗。一架飞机正飞在树林的上空，尾巴后面吐出一条白烟，它旋转翻腾，竟然是在写着什么！飞机在空中写字！每个人都抬起了头。
“Glaxo,” said Mrs. Coates in a strained, awe-stricken voice, gazing straight up, and her baby, lying stiff and white in her arms, gazed straight up.
“Glaxo，”寇茨太太凝望天空，以一种紧张、敬畏的语气说道，而她那个雪白粉嫩的小宝宝，乖乖地躺在她的怀里，也在仰头望天。
“Kreemo,” murmured Mrs. Bletchley, like a sleep-walker. With his hat held out perfectly still in his hand, Mr. Bowley gazed straight up. All down the Mall people were standing and looking up into the sky. As they looked the whole world became perfectly silent, and a flight of gulls crossed the sky, first one gull leading, then another, and in this extraordinary silence and peace, in this pallor, in this purity, bells struck eleven times, the sound fading up there among the gulls.
“Kreemo，”布莱切利太太嘟哝道，如一个梦游人。鲍利先生镇定自若地举着帽子，抬头望着天空。商业街上的每一个人都停下了脚步，望着天空。在他们举头仰望之时，整个世界变得一片宁静。一群海鸥掠过天空，先由一只海鸥领队，接着变成另一只。在这份美妙的静谧与祥和之中，在苍茫的天空下，在纯净的氛围里，钟声敲响了十一下，渐次消逝在那群海鸥中。
“That’s an E,” said Mrs. Bletchley — or a dancer —
“那是个E，”布莱切利太太说——或许像个舞蹈家——
“It’s toffee,” murmured Mr. Bowley –(and the car went in at the gates and nobody looked at it), and shutting off the smoke, away and away it rushed, and the smoke faded and assembled itself round the broad white shapes of the clouds.
“那是toffee[15]，”鲍利先生嘟哝道——（那辆轿车开进了大门，没有一个人在看它）飞机不再释放烟雾，它匆匆地飞向远处。烟雾消散而去，融汇在一大团一大团的白云之中。【注：[15]太妃糖，鲍利先生认为飞机是在为太妃糖做广告。】
The aeroplane turned and raced and swooped exactly where it liked, swiftly, freely, like a skater —
飞机随心所欲地掉头、疾飞、俯冲，如此迅捷，如此洒脱，如一个溜冰高手——
It had gone; it was behind the clouds. There was no sound. The clouds to which the letters E, G, or L had attached themselves moved freely, as if destined to cross from West to East on a mission of the greatest importance which would never be revealed, and yet certainly so it was — a mission of the greatest importance. Then suddenly, as a train comes out of a tunnel, the aeroplane rushed out of the clouds again, the sound boring into the ears of all people in the Mall, in the Green Park, in Piccadilly, in Regent Street, in Regent’s Park, and the bar of smoke curved behind and it dropped down, and it soared up and wrote one letter after another — but what word was it writing?
飞机不见了，消失在云团后面。万籁俱寂。依附着字母E、G或L的云朵自由地飘荡，好像是注定要从西方飘到东方，去完成一项极其重要的使命。虽然那是个不可昭告世人的机密，但它确实是一项——一项最为重大的使命。接着，突然之间，飞机再次冲破云层，如一列火车冲出隧道，轰鸣声钻入商业街上的、格林公园里的、皮卡迪里街上的、摄政街和摄政公园里的每个人的耳朵里。一团烟雾尾随其后，它忽而俯冲，忽而高飞，写下一个又一个字母——但它写的是什么字呢？
“Look, look, Septimus!” she cried. For Dr. Holmes had told her to make her husband (who had nothing whatever seriously the matter with him but was a little out of sorts) take an interest in things outside himself.
“看，看哪，塞普提默斯！”她喊道。因为霍姆斯大夫告诉过她，要让她丈夫（他其实也没得什么重病，只不过有点郁郁寡欢）别只关心自己，要对外界事物也感兴趣。
“K… R…” said the nursemaid, and Septimus heard her say “Kay Arr” close to his ear, deeply, softly, like a mellow organ, but with a roughness in her voice like a grasshopper’s, which rasped his spine deliciously and sent running up into his brain waves of sound which, concussing, broke. A marvellous discovery indeed — that the human voice in certain atmospheric conditions (for one must be scientific, above all scientific) can quicken trees into life! Happily Rezia put her hand with a tremendous weight on his knee so that he was weighted down, transfixed, or the excitement of the elm trees rising and falling, rising and falling with all their leaves alight and the colour thinning and thickening from blue to the green of a hollow wave, like plumes on horses’ heads, feathers on ladies’, so proudly they rose and fell, so superbly, would have sent him mad. But he would not go mad. He would shut his eyes; he would see no more.
“K—R—”，保姆说，塞普提默斯听见她在他的耳旁念叨着“凯依、阿尔”，声音低沉、柔和，如优美的风琴声；但她的声音里也有一种如蚱蜢般的粗嗄，它美妙地刺激着他的背脊，将一波波的声浪传入他的大脑，震响着，破碎了。确实是一种神奇的发现——在某种气候条件下，人的声音（做人必须讲科学，科学高于一切）可以促进树木的生长！蕾西娅开心地把手重重地压在他的膝头，因而，他被压得动弹不得。要不然他看见兴奋的榆树上下飞舞着，上下飞舞着它那每一根闪亮的枝条，颜色忽浅忽深，从蓝色到浪谷的绿色，如马头上的鬃毛，如女士们头上的羽饰，它们在那里起起落落，如此骄傲，如此壮丽，会叫他发狂的。但是他不能发狂呀，他要闭上眼睛，他不想再看了。
So, thought Septimus, looking up, they are signalling to me. Not indeed in actual words; that is, he could not read the language yet; but it was plain enough, this beauty, this exquisite beauty, and tears filled his eyes as he looked at the smoke words languishing and melting in the sky and bestowing upon him in their inexhaustible charity and laughing goodness one shape after another of unimaginable beauty and signalling their intention to provide him, for nothing, for ever, for looking merely, with beauty, more beauty! Tears ran down his cheeks.
塞普提默斯抬头看，想道，他们原来是在向我发信号呀。并不是以实际的文字，就算是，他也看不懂那种语言。不过信号非常清楚，这么美丽，这么极致的美，泪水涌入了他的眼睛。当他看着烟雾写成的文字渐次模糊，融化在空中，在无尽的善意和含笑的仁慈中，将一个接一个超乎想象的美丽形象赐予他，向他发出信号，将他们的意图告诉他，他们就是要让他无偿地、永恒地只看到这份美，这份源源不断的美！泪水顺着他的脸颊滑落。
Lucrezia Warren Smith, sitting by her husband’s side on a seat in Regent’s Park in the Broad Walk, looked up.
卢克蕾西娅·沃伦·史密斯，坐在摄政公园林荫大道上的一把长椅上，挨着她丈夫坐着，抬头望天。
It was toffee; they were advertising toffee, a nursemaid told Rezia. Together they began to spell t… o… f…
那个词是“太妃糖”，他们是在给太妃糖做广告，一个保姆告诉蕾西娅[16]说，她们一起拼了起来：t—o—f—【注：[16]卢克蕾西娅的昵称。】
But they beckoned; leaves were alive; trees were alive. And the leaves being connected by millions of fibres with his own body, there on the seat, fanned it up and down; when the branch stretched he, too, made that statement. The sparrows fluttering, rising, and falling in jagged fountains were part of the pattern; the white and blue, barred with black branches. Sounds made harmonies with premeditation; the spaces between them were as significant as the sounds. A child cried. Rightly far away a horn sounded. All taken together meant the birth of a new religion —
可它们在呼唤着他，树叶是有生命的，树木也是有生命的。通过成千上万条纤维，树叶和他坐在椅子上的身体取得了联系，上下扇动着他的身体。树枝向前伸展，他也呼应着做出同样的姿态。麻雀在参差不齐的喷泉间鼓起翅膀上下翻飞，构成了画面的一部分。白色与蓝色的构图上，夹杂着一根根黑色的枝条。声音与冥想和谐共处，它们之间的距离与声音一样意味深长。一个孩子哭了起来，远处刚巧响起一阵号角之声，这一切合在一起，意味着一种新宗教的诞生——
“Septimus!” said Rezia. He started violently. People must notice.
“塞普提默斯！”蕾西娅说。他猛然惊醒。别人一定注意到他了。
For she could stand it no longer. Dr. Holmes might say there was nothing the matter. Far rather would she that he were dead! She could not sit beside him when he stared so and did not see her and made everything terrible; sky and tree, children playing, dragging carts, blowing whistles, falling down; all were terrible. And he would not kill himself; and she could tell no one. “Septimus has been working too hard”– that was all she could say to her own mother. To love makes one solitary, she thought. She could tell nobody, not even Septimus now, and looking back, she saw him sitting in his shabby overcoat alone, on the seat, hunched up, staring. And it was cowardly for a man to say he would kill himself, but Septimus had fought; he was brave; he was not Septimus now. She put on her lace collar. She put on her new hat and he never noticed; and he was happy without her. Nothing could make her happy without him! Nothing! He was selfish. So men are. For he was not ill. Dr. Holmes said there was nothing the matter with him. She spread her hand before her. Look! Her wedding ring slipped — she had grown so thin. It was she who suffered — but she had nobody to tell.
因为她受不了了。霍姆斯大夫也许会说这没啥大不了的。可她倒宁愿他已经死掉了！她不能这样坐在他的身旁，而他却在专注地瞪着什么，根本不看她，他这副样子使一切都变得可怕了。天空与树木；嬉戏着的孩子，拉着推车，吹着口哨，跌着跤——一切都显得可怕。他不会自杀的，而她又无法对人倾诉。“塞普提默斯向来工作太辛苦了”——她对自己的母亲也只能说这么多。爱使人孤独，她想道。她无人倾诉，现在甚至都不能对塞普提默斯说了，回过头去，她看见他穿着那件寒碜的大衣一个人坐在位子上，弓着背，瞪着眼。一个说自己想自杀的男人是个懦夫，可塞普提默斯曾经打过仗，他曾经是个勇敢的人，可现在的他已不是过去的那个塞普提默斯了。她戴上花边衣领，她戴上崭新的帽子，可他全不在意。没有她，他照样很快乐。然而没有了他，她却怎么也高兴不起来！千真万确！他是个自私的家伙。男人都这样。因为他根本就没病。霍姆斯大夫说了他没事的。她把手摊开在面前。看呀！她的婚戒滑下去了——她瘦得不成样子了。是她在受苦受难呀——可她却没有一个人可以倾诉。
“I am going to walk to the fountain and back,” she said.
“我到喷泉那边去下就来，”她说。
“For you should see the Milan gardens,” she said aloud. But to whom?
“你们该去看看米兰的花园，”她大声说。可是对谁说呢？
Far was Italy and the white houses and the room where her sisters sat making hats, and the streets crowded every evening with people walking, laughing out loud, not half alive like people here, huddled up in Bath chairs, looking at a few ugly flowers stuck in pots!
意大利在千里迢迢的远方，那里有乳白色的房子，她的姐妹们在那白色的房间里编帽子。每天傍晚大街上都有涌动的人潮，人们在散步，在放声大笑，不像这里的人总是死气沉沉的，蜷缩在浴椅[17]里，看着花盆里稀稀拉拉的几朵丑陋的花！【注：[17]一种专供病人使用的带篷罩的轮椅，多用于温泉疗养地。】
There was nobody. Her words faded. So a rocket fades. Its sparks, having grazed their way into the night, surrender to it, dark descends, pours over the outlines of houses and towers; bleak hillsides soften and fall in. But though they are gone, the night is full of them; robbed of colour, blank of windows, they exist more ponderously, give out what the frank daylight fails to transmit — the trouble and suspense of things conglomerated there in the darkness; huddled together in the darkness; reft of the relief which dawn brings when, washing the walls white and grey, spotting each window-pane, lifting the mist from the fields, showing the red-brown cows peacefully grazing, all is once more decked out to the eye; exists again. I am alone; I am alone! she cried, by the fountain in Regent’s Park (staring at the Indian and his cross), as perhaps at midnight, when all boundaries are lost, the country reverts to its ancient shape, as the Romans saw it, lying cloudy, when they landed, and the hills had no names and rivers wound they knew not where — such was her darkness; when suddenly, as if a shelf were shot forth and she stood on it, she said how she was his wife, married years ago in Milan, his wife, and would never, never tell that he was mad! Turning, the shelf fell; down, down she dropped. For he was gone, she thought — gone, as he threatened, to kill himself — to throw himself under a cart! But no; there he was; still sitting alone on the seat, in his shabby overcoat, his legs crossed, staring, talking aloud.
一个人也没有。她的话语消逝了，如火箭升空而去。它的火花，冲入了夜空，被夜色掩埋。夜幕降临，笼罩住房屋和高塔的轮廓。苍茫的山坡渐趋朦胧，最后沉入了黑暗。可是，尽管一切都消逝了，但它们毕竟都存在于夜色之中。色彩退场了，连窗户都看不见了，但它们的存在却显得更为沉重，具有了光天化日里无法传达的意义——各种事物的忧愁与焦虑都会聚在黑暗中，在黑暗中抱作一团。晨曦带来的宽慰被一扫而尽，直到曙光再次将墙壁刷得灰白，照亮了每一扇玻璃窗，拨开了田野里的迷雾，现出在悠闲地吃草的棕红色奶牛。一切都重新上好了彩妆，呈现在人们的眼睛里，一切都重新呈现出生命的色彩。我孑然一身，我多么孤单！卢克蕾西娅在摄政公园里的喷泉旁感叹起来（同时注视着那个印度人和他的十字架），这也许就像是午夜时分，当一切的分界线全都消失不见，这个国家倒退回远古时的形象，仿佛罗马人登陆时看见的景象，天地一片混沌，山岳没有名字，河流蜿蜒着不知流向何方——她心中的黑暗就是这个模样。突然之间，就像不知从哪里漂来了一块岩石，她就站上去，诉说着自己是塞普提默斯的妻子，多年前在米兰成婚，是他的妻子，但她永远，永远也不会告诉别人他发了疯！在她转身之际，岩石倾倒了，她跌了下去，越跌越深。因为他离开了，她想——离开了，就像他所扬言的，去自杀了——去扑倒在车轮之下！可是没有，他还在那儿呢，还是一个人坐在位子上，穿着他那件寒碜的大衣，跷着二郎腿，瞪着眼，大声地自言自语。
“What are you saying?” said Rezia suddenly, sitting down by him.
“你在说什么呢？”蕾西娅坐回到他的旁边，突然发问。
There was his hand; there the dead. White things were assembling behind the railings opposite. But he dared not look. Evans was behind the railings!
他的手在这里，死神在这里。有什么白色的东西正在对面的栏杆后面聚拢起来。可他不敢看。埃文斯在栏杆后面！
Men must not cut down trees. There is a God. (He noted such revelations on the backs of envelopes.) Change the world. No one kills from hatred. Make it known (he wrote it down). He waited. He listened. A sparrow perched on the railing opposite chirped Septimus, Septimus, four or five times over and went on, drawing its notes out, to sing freshly and piercingly in Greek words how there is no crime and, joined by another sparrow, they sang in voices prolonged and piercing in Greek words, from trees in the meadow of life beyond a river where the dead walk, how there is no death.
不可以砍伐树木。上帝是存在的（他在信封的背面注意到了那样的启示）。要改变世界。不可以因憎恨而相互杀戮。让大家都了解这个（他把这句记了下来）。他等着。他听着。一只麻雀停在对面的栏杆上，唧唧喳喳地叫着“塞普提默斯，塞普提默斯”，连着叫了四五遍后，飞走了，然后又拉长了调子，用希腊语唱起清新又动人的歌，唱着人间没有罪恶。又一只麻雀参加进来，它们一起用希腊语拉长了调子唱起了动人的歌，唱到在那逝者游走的彼岸，在那生命的草原里，绿树成荫，唱到人间没有死亡。
Interrupted again! She was always interrupting.
又被打断了！她老是打断我的思路。
Away from people — they must get away from people, he said (jumping up), right away over there, where there were chairs beneath a tree and the long slope of the park dipped like a length of green stuff with a ceiling cloth of blue and pink smoke high above, and there was a rampart of far irregular houses hazed in smoke, the traffic hummed in a circle, and on the right, dun-coloured animals stretched long necks over the Zoo palings, barking, howling. There they sat down under a tree.
远离人群——他们必须远离人群，他说（跳了起来），马上去那边。那边的树下面有几把椅子，公园里的长坡道如一条浸满颜料的绵延绿布，飘在上空的蓝色和粉红的烟雾形成了一张天篷。远处不规则的房屋组成的壁垒在烟雾中一片朦胧，来往的车辆在环行道上嗡嗡作响。在右侧，暗褐色的动物把长长的脖子伸出了动物园的围栏，吼着，吠着。他们坐在那里，坐在一棵树下。
“Look,” she implored him, pointing at a little troop of boys carrying cricket stumps, and one shuffled, spun round on his heel and shuffled, as if he were acting a clown at the music hall.
“看呀，”她恳求道，一边指着拿着板球门柱的一小队男孩子。其中一个孩子在拖着步子，踮起脚尖转呀转的，就好像是在音乐厅里扮演小丑。
Look the unseen bade him, the voice which now communicated with him who was the greatest of mankind, Septimus, lately taken from life to death, the Lord who had come to renew society, who lay like a coverlet, a snow blanket smitten only by the sun, for ever unwasted, suffering for ever, the scapegoat, the eternal sufferer, but he did not want it, he moaned, putting from him with a wave of his hand that eternal suffering, that eternal loneliness.
幽灵在吩咐他看，此时这个声音在和他交流，他是人类中最伟大的成员。塞普提默斯，刚刚经历过出生入死，他是来拯救人间的天主，他像条被单似地躺着，像条只有太阳能够摧折的雪毯，永不磨损，永远受难。替罪羊，永恒的受害者。可他不想扮演这种角色，他呻吟着，摇了摇手，要把那永恒的苦难、永恒的孤独甩掉。
“Look,” she implored him, for Dr. Holmes had told her to make him notice real things, go to a music hall, play cricket — that was the very game, Dr. Holmes said, a nice out-of-door game, the very game for her husband.
“看呀，”她央求道，因为霍姆斯大夫说了要让他意识到客观事物的存在，去听听音乐啦，打打板球啦——这项运动很适合，霍姆斯大夫说，是很好的户外活动，非常适合她的丈夫。
“Look,” she repeated.
“看呀，”她重复道。
“Look,” she repeated, for he must not talk aloud to himself out of doors.
“看呀，”她重复道，因为他不该在户外对自己大声说话的。
“Oh look,” she implored him. But what was there to look at? A few sheep. That was all.
“哦，看哪，”她恳求他。可那儿有什么可看的呢？有几头羊。那就是全部。
The way to Regent’s Park Tube station — could they tell her the way to Regent’s Park Tube station — Maisie Johnson wanted to know. She was only up from Edinburgh two days ago.
去摄政公园地铁站——人们能告诉她去摄政公园地铁站怎么走吗？——梅齐·约翰逊想要知道，她两天前刚从爱丁堡过来。
“Not this way — over there!” Rezia exclaimed, waving her aside, lest she should see Septimus.
“不是这条路——那边的那条！”蕾西娅大声说，挥手叫她走开，生怕让她看见塞普提默斯。
Both seemed queer, Maisie Johnson thought. Everything seemed very queer. In London for the first time, come to take up a post at her uncle’s in Leadenhall Street, and now walking through Regent’s Park in the morning, this couple on the chairs gave her quite a turn; the young woman seeming foreign, the man looking queer; so that should she be very old she would still remember and make it jangle again among her memories how she had walked through Regent’s Park on a fine summer’s morning fifty years ago. For she was only nineteen and had got her way at last, to come to London; and now how queer it was, this couple she had asked the way of, and the girl started and jerked her hand, and the man — he seemed awfully odd; quarrelling, perhaps; parting for ever, perhaps; something was up, she knew; and now all these people (for she returned to the Broad Walk), the stone basins, the prim flowers, the old men and women, invalids most of them in Bath chairs — all seemed, after Edinburgh, so queer. And Maisie Johnson, as she joined that gently trudging, vaguely gazing, breeze-kissed company — squirrels perching and preening, sparrow fountains fluttering for crumbs, dogs busy with the railings, busy with each other, while the soft warm air washed over them and lent to the fixed unsurprised gaze with which they received life something whimsical and mollified — Maisie Johnson positively felt she must cry Oh! (for that young man on the seat had given her quite a turn. Something was up, she knew.)
这一对人显得很古怪，梅齐·约翰逊想。一切都显得很怪。她第一次来伦敦，是到利登霍尔街她叔叔那里干活的。这天早上，她走过摄政公园，坐在椅子上的这一对男女让她吓了一大跳。那个年轻女子看上去像外国人，那个男人怪怪的。因此即使到了她老态龙钟的时候，也依旧会在记忆中翻腾出这一幕，依旧会记得在五十年前一个夏日的美丽清晨，她是怎样穿过摄政公园的。因为她只有十九岁，好不容易终于来到了伦敦。那时多么奇怪呀，她问路的这一对人，那姑娘受惊一般地直摇头，而那个男的——他显得极其怪异，也许是吵架了，也许是决定分手了。她知道，一定是发生了什么事。而且，现在所有的人（因为她走回到了林荫大道），石池子，整齐的花，老头和老太太——大多是坐在轮椅上的病人——所有这一切，在她这个爱丁堡人的眼里，都显得十分怪异。而梅齐·约翰逊，当她加入到这些缓缓地走着，茫然地看着，微风吻着他们的人流时——松鼠栖在树上舔毛，麻雀在喷泉边觅食，狗儿在栏杆边欢闹，相互嬉戏追逐着。当柔柔的暖风沐浴在他们的身上，他们那呆板、漠然的眼神里又多了一种他们对生活的理解，就是怪异与平静——梅齐·约翰逊觉得她非得大喊一声不可：哦（因为椅子上的那个小伙子让她大吃了一惊，她知道，一定是发生了什么事）！
Horror! horror! she wanted to cry. (She had left her people; they had warned her what would happen.)
恐怖！恐怖！她想要大喊大叫（她离开了自己的家人，他们警告过她会发生些什么的）。
Why hadn’t she stayed at home? she cried, twisting the knob of the iron railing.
为什么她不留在家乡呢？她拧着铁栏杆上的圆把手，喊道。
That girl, thought Mrs. Dempster (who saved crusts for the squirrels and often ate her lunch in Regent’s Park), don’t know a thing yet; and really it seemed to her better to be a little stout, a little slack, a little moderate in one’s expectations. Percy drank. Well, better to have a son, thought Mrs. Dempster. She had had a hard time of it, and couldn’t help smiling at a girl like that. You’ll get married, for you’re pretty enough, thought Mrs. Dempster. Get married, she thought, and then you’ll know. Oh, the cooks, and so on. Every man has his ways. But whether I’d have chosen quite like that if I could have known, thought Mrs. Dempster, and could not help wishing to whisper a word to Maisie Johnson; to feel on the creased pouch of her worn old face the kiss of pity. For it’s been a hard life, thought Mrs. Dempster. What hadn’t she given to it? Roses; figure; her feet too. (She drew the knobbed lumps beneath her skirt.)
那姑娘，丹普斯特太太想道（她经常在摄政公园里吃午饭，还时常用面包屑喂松鼠），还什么都不懂。在她看来，真的，一个人还是强壮些，懒散些，对自己的期望别太高比较好。她女儿珀西喝酒上瘾。是啊，还是有个儿子比较好，丹普斯特太太想。她曾经有过一段艰难的生活，看见这样的一个女孩子，禁不住要笑。你会嫁人的，因为你很漂亮，丹普斯特太太想。结婚后，她想，你就会明白了。哦，那些厨师，诸如此类。每个男人都有自己的习惯。可如果我事先就知道了，我是否还会那样选择呢，丹普斯特太太想，她不禁想要对梅齐·约翰逊低语几句。让自己这张沟壑纵横的、皮肉松弛的老脸上也能感受到一个怜悯的亲吻。因为人一辈子都不容易，丹普斯特太太想。她还有什么没有奉献出来呢？玫瑰，身材，还有她的腿（她把臃肿的双腿藏到裙子底下）。
Ah, but that aeroplane! Hadn’t Mrs. Dempster always longed to see foreign parts? She had a nephew, a missionary. It soared and shot. She always went on the sea at Margate, not out o’ sight of land, but she had no patience with women who were afraid of water. It swept and fell. Her stomach was in her mouth. Up again. There’s a fine young feller aboard of it, Mrs. Dempster wagered, and away and away it went, fast and fading, away and away the aeroplane shot; soaring over Greenwich and all the masts; over the little island of grey churches, St. Paul’s and the rest till, on either side of London, fields spread out and dark brown woods where adventurous thrushes hopping boldly, glancing quickly, snatched the snail and tapped him on a stone, once, twice, thrice.
啊，瞧那架飞机！丹普斯特太太不是老想着要去国外见见世面吗？她有个侄儿，是个云游四方的传教士。那飞机飞快地冲向云霄。她总是由马尔盖特[19]出海，但从来不会去看不见陆地的远方，不过她受不了怕水的女人。那飞机迅疾地俯冲过来——她的心提到了嗓子眼——又重上云霄。一定是个可爱的小伙子在驾驶飞机，丹普斯特太太断定，飞机消逝在天际。它高高地飞过了格林尼治[20]，飞过了所有的船桅，飞过了一座座灰色的教堂，飞过了圣保罗大教堂和别的教堂，直飞到伦敦的另一头。那里有辽阔的田野，深棕色的树林，爱冒险的画眉在那里大胆地蹦来跳去，眼睛飞快地一扫，叼起了一只蜗牛，往石头上猛敲，一下，两下，三下。【注：[19]伦敦东部一城市，是著名的海滨度假地。[20]伦敦东南一城镇，为格林尼治天文台旧址。】
Roses, she thought sardonically. All trash, m’dear. For really, what with eating, drinking, and mating, the bad days and good, life had been no mere matter of roses, and what was more, let me tell you, Carrie Dempster had no wish to change her lot with any woman’s in Kentish Town! But, she implored, pity. Pity, for the loss of roses. Pity she asked of Maisie Johnson, standing by the hyacinth beds.
玫瑰，她讽刺地想道。一派胡言，天哪。真的说来，吃喝的事，做爱的事，好日子和坏日子，生活不仅仅是玫瑰色的，更有甚者，让我告诉你，凯莉·丹普斯特并不愿意和肯特镇[18]上的别的任何女人交换命运！不过，她乞求怜悯。怜悯，为了那失落的玫瑰。她向站在风信子花坛旁的梅齐·约翰逊呼唤着的，就是怜悯。【注：[18]伦敦西北部一城镇。】
Away and away the aeroplane shot, till it was nothing but a bright spark; an aspiration; a concentration; a symbol (so it seemed to Mr. Bentley, vigorously rolling his strip of turf at Greenwich) of man’s soul; of his determination, thought Mr. Bentley, sweeping round the cedar tree, to get outside his body, beyond his house, by means of thought, Einstein, speculation, mathematics, the Mendelian theory — away the aeroplane shot.
飞机越飞越远了，直至除了一个亮点外什么都看不见了。一份渴望，一份关注，一个象征（班特利先生这么认为，他正在格林尼治全力以赴平整一块草皮），人类灵魂的象征。班特利先生坚定地相信，一边清扫着雪松的四周，通过思想的方法，通过爱因斯坦、推理能力、数学、孟德尔法则[21]，人类可以超越肉体，超越自己的居所——飞机继续向远处疾飞而去。【注：[21]孟德尔（1822~1884）：奥地利植物学家、遗传学的创始人。通过对豌豆杂交所做的实验，发现了母体特征的遗传是通过母体细胞的基因之组合来实现的这一规律，即孟德尔法则。】
Then, while a seedy-looking nondescript man carrying a leather bag stood on the steps of St. Paul’s Cathedral, and hesitated, for within was what balm, how great a welcome, how many tombs with banners waving over them, tokens of victories not over armies, but over, he thought, that plaguy spirit of truth seeking which leaves me at present without a situation, and more than that, the cathedral offers company, he thought, invites you to membership of a society; great men belong to it; martyrs have died for it; why not enter in, he thought, put this leather bag stuffed with pamphlets before an altar, a cross, the symbol of something which has soared beyond seeking and questing and knocking of words together and has become all spirit, disembodied, ghostly — why not enter in? he thought and while he hesitated out flew the aeroplane over Ludgate Circus.
之后，一个衣衫褴褛、相貌平平的男子拿着一只皮包站在圣保罗大教堂的台阶上，踌躇不前，因为不知道进去会得到怎样的欢迎、怎样的安慰。有多少上面飘扬着旗帜的坟墓，它们是胜利的标志，但不是战胜了军队的标志，而是战胜了想要追求真理的精神，他想道。正是这种麻烦的精神造成了我现在没有立足之地的局面，而且，教堂提供的是伙伴，他想，邀请你成为这个团体的一员。伟人们属于这个团体，烈士们为它献身。为什么不进去呢，他想，把这只里面塞满传单的皮包放到圣坛和十字架之前，它们象征的是超越了追求、探索和文字的堆积之后的升华，从而成为一种彻底的精神食粮，成为虚无缥缈的、如幽灵般的存在——为什么不进去呢，他想道。正在他犹豫不决之时，那架飞机飞过了卢德门圆形广场的上空。
It was strange; it was still. Not a sound was to be heard above the traffic. Unguided it seemed; sped of its own free will. And now, curving up and up, straight up, like something mounting in ecstasy, in pure delight, out from behind poured white smoke looping, writing a T, an O, an F.
多么奇怪，多么宁静。除了车流声外，四围一片岑寂。飞机仿佛无人驾驶一般，全凭它自己的意愿疾飞。眼下，它正斜斜地飞着，又笔直地冲上云霄，如处于一种陶醉的状态中。只为了纯粹的狂喜，后面喷出一条盘旋的白烟，写出了一个T、一个O和一个F。
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