When she got near the park-gate, she heard the click of the latch. He was there, then, in the darkness of the wood, and had seen her!
园林大门出现在眼前时，门闩的咔嗒声她已经听见了。这样说来，他已经等在那里，在阴暗的树林里，而且已经看到她！
"You are good and early," he said out of the dark. "Was everything all right?" "Perfectly easy." He shut the gate quietly after her, and made a spot of light on the dark ground, showing the pallid flowers still standing there open in the night. They went on apart, in silence.
“你来得还挺早。”他在黑影中说。“一切都还顺利吗？”“轻而易举。”她跨出门去，他轻轻将其合上，用手电筒照亮漆黑的路面，照亮暗夜里依然绽放着的苍白花朵。两人都不做声，彼此并未靠得太近。
"Are you sure you didn't hurt yourself this morning with that chair?" she asked.
“今早抬轮椅的时候，你真的没有受伤吗？”她关切地问。
"No, no!" "When you had that pneumonia, what did it do to you?" "Oh nothing! it left my heart not so strong and the lungs not so elastic. But it always does that." "And you ought not to make violent physical efforts?" "Not often." She plodded on in an angry silence.
“不，没有！”“你什么时候得过肺炎？那场病留下了什么病根吗？”“噢，没什么！我的心脏不像以往那么有力，肺活量也大不如前。但肺炎总会留下这样的后遗症。”“那么说，你不应该做剧烈运动？”“不能太频繁。”她气满胸膛，默默不语，缓步向前。
"Did you hate Clifford?" She said at last.
“你恨克利福德吗？”她终于提出心中的疑问。
"Hate him, no! I've met too many like him to upset myself hating him. I know beforehand I don't care for his sort, and I let it go at that.” "What is his sort?" "Nay, you know better than I do. The sort of youngish gentleman a bit like a lady, and no balls." "What balls?" "Balls! A man's balls!” She pondered this.
“恨他，不！他这种人我见得太多，恨他只会让自己苦恼。我早知道自己不屑跟这种人计较，所以就随他去吧。”“他是哪种人？”“唉，你比我更了解他。年纪轻轻的纨绔子弟，活像个娘们，没有懒子。”“什么懒子？”“懒子！男人的懒子！”她思忖着他的话。
"But is it a question of that?" She said, a little annoyed.
“这是问题的关键吗？”她问，心烦意乱。
"You say a man's got no brain, when he's a fool: and no heart, when he's mean; and no stomach when he's a funker. And when he's got none of that spunky wild bit of a man in him, you say he's got no balls. When he's a sort of tame.” She pondered this.
“人要是愚蠢，就说他没脑子；要是卑鄙，就说他没心肝；要是怯懦，就说他没胆子。要是没点男子汉气概，就说他没懒子。是个窝囊废。”她再度陷入沉思。
"And is Clifford tame?" She asked.
“克利福德窝囊吗？”她问。
"Tame, and nasty with it: like most such fellows, when you come up against "em." "And do you think you're not tame?” "Maybe not quite!" At length she saw in the distance a yellow light.
“窝囊，而且下流无耻，这类人大多如此，尤其是遭遇针锋相对的局面。”“那你觉得自己不窝囊吗？”“或许不太算！”她望见远处亮着一点昏黄的灯光。
She stood still.
她停住脚步。
"There is a light!" She said.
“有灯光！”她说。
"I always leave a light in the house," he said.
“我总在家里留盏灯。”他解释道。
She went on again at his side, but not touching him, wondering why she was going with him at all.
她继续与他并肩而行，但却没有碰到他的身体，心里诧异着自己为什么要和他一起走着。
He unlocked, and they went in, he bolting the door behind them. As if it were a prison, she thought! The kettle was singing by the red fire, there were cups on the table.
他打开门，两人进屋后，他又把门闩扣紧。她心里暗想，这跟置身监狱有什么两样！红色的炉火上，水壶正在唱着，桌上摆着茶杯。
She sat in the wooden arm-chair by the fire. It was warm after the chill outside.
她靠着炉火，坐在木制的扶手椅上。体验过屋外的寒意，感觉这里无比温暖。
"I'll take off my shoes, they are wet," she said.
“我要脱掉鞋子，都湿了。”她说。
She sat with her stockinged feet on the bright steel fender. He went to the pantry, bringing food: bread and butter and pressed tongue. She was warm: she took off her coat. He hung it on the door.
她两脚只穿着长袜，搭在明亮的铁制围栏上。他去了趟食品间，拿回不少吃的，有面包、黄油以及压缩口条。她感觉有点热，就脱掉了外衣。他帮她挂在门上。
"Shall you have cocoa or tea or coffee to drink?" He asked.
“你喝可可、茶还是咖啡？”他问。
"I don't think I want anything," she said, looking at the table. "But you eat." "Nay, I don't care about it. I'll just feed the dog.” He tramped with a quiet inevitability over the brick floor, putting food for the dog in a brown bowl. The spaniel looked up at him anxiously.
“我什么也不想喝。”她说着，往桌上看看。“你自己吃吧。”“不，我也不打算吃。只是要喂喂狗。”他迈着坚实的步伐，从砖地上走过，脸上露出从容不迫的安然神态，把食物放在一只褐色的碗里。那只猎犬抬头望着主人，显得急不可耐。
"Ay, this is thy supper, tha nedna look as if tha wouldna get it!" He said.
“是呀，这是恁的晚餐，甭摆出没饭吃的可怜相。”他说。
He set the bowl on the stairfoot mat, and sat himself on a chair by the wall, to take off his leggings and boots. The dog instead of eating, came to him again, and sat looking up at him, troubled.
他把碗搁在楼梯角的垫子上，自己在靠墙的椅子上坐下来，准备解开绑腿，脱掉长靴。猎犬非但没吃食，反而跑到主人身边蹲下，抬头望着他，显得很不安。
He slowly unbuckled his leggings. The dog edged a little nearer.
他慢条斯理地解开绑腿的排扣。猎犬又往前凑了凑。
"What's amiss wi' thee then? Art upset because there's somebody else here? Tha'rt a female, tha art! Go an' eat thy supper.” He put his hand on her head, and the bitch leaned her head sideways against him. He slowly, softly pulled the long silky ear.
“怎么回事？来个生人，就怕成那样？母的就是这副德行！赶紧吃恁的晚饭去吧。”他把手搁在它的头上，弗洛西侧着脑袋依靠着主人。他扯弄着它柔滑的长耳朵，动作缓慢而温柔。
"There!" He said. "There! Go an' eat thy supper! Go!” He tilted his chair towards the pot on the mat, and the dog meekly went, and fell to eating.
“去吧！”他说。“去吧！去吃恁的晚饭！快点！”他把椅子往垫子的方向倾斜，猎犬乖乖领命，跑下楼梯吃起食来。
"Do you like dogs?" Connie asked him.
“你喜欢狗吗？”康妮问他。
"No, not really. They're too tame and clinging.” He had taken off his leggings and was unlacing his heavy boots. Connie had turned from the fire. How bare the little room was! Yet over his head on the wall hung a hideous enlarged photograph of a young married couple, apparently him and a bold-faced young woman, no doubt his wife.
“不，不太喜欢。狗的性格太柔顺，总是缠着人不放。”他已经脱去绑腿，正在解那双笨重的长靴。康妮此刻背对着炉火。这间小屋确实简陋！但他头顶墙上挂着的大幅结婚照却格外扎眼，那对年轻的新人分明是他和一个长相轻挑的女子，而那无疑就是他的妻子。
"Is that you?" Connie asked him.
“那是你吗？”康妮问。
He twisted and looked at the enlargement above his head.
他扭头看着头顶的大幅照片。
"Ay! Taken just afore we was married, when I was twenty-one.” He looked at it impassively.
“是呀！俺俩临结婚的时候照的，那阵子我21岁。”他望向结婚照的目光极其冷漠。
"Do you like it?" Connie asked him.
“你喜欢它吗？”康妮问。
"Like it? No! I never liked the thing. But she fixed it all up to have it done, like." He returned to pulling off his boots.
“喜欢？不！我从不会喜欢这劳什子。可她安排好一切，俺也只得随着去照。”他转过脸，继续脱靴子。
"If you don't like it, why do you keep it hanging there? Perhaps your wife would like to have it," she said.
“不喜欢的话，干嘛还挂在这儿？或许你妻子还想要呢。”她说。
He looked up at her with a sudden grin.
他霍得抬头看着她，咧嘴笑起来。
"She carted off iverything as was worth taking from th' 'ouse," he said. "But she left THAT!"
“她走的时候，把家里所有值钱的东西席卷一空。”他说。“可只留下了那张照片！”
"Then why do you keep it? For sentimental reasons?" "Nay, I niver look at it. I hardly knowed it wor theer. It's bin theer sin' we come to this place.” "Why don't you burn it?” She said.
“那你为什么还留着它呢？因为难以忘情？”“才不是呢，俺从不正眼瞧它。几乎都忘记它还挂在那儿。自打俺俩在这里住下，它就挂在那儿。”“干嘛不烧了它？”她提议道。
He twisted round again and looked at the enlarged photograph. It was framed in a brown-and-gilt frame, hideous. It showed a clean-shaven, alert, very young-looking man in a rather high collar, and a somewhat plump, bold young woman with hair fluffed out and crimped, and wearing a dark satin blouse.
他又转过头，盯着那副大照片。它镶嵌在褐金相间的相框里，看着就让人反胃。照片里的新郎胡子剃得溜光，目光机警，模样颇为年轻，领子竖得很高。而新娘则长相泼辣，体型稍显臃肿，满头卷发乱蓬蓬的，穿深色缎料上衣。
"It wouldn't be a bad idea, would it?” He said.
“是个好主意。”他说。
He had pulled off his boots, and put on a pair of slippers. He stood up on the chair, and lifted down the photograph. It left a big pale place on the greenish wall-paper.
他已经脱去长靴，蹬上拖鞋。他站到椅子上，取下照片。浅绿色的壁纸间，留下一大块空白。
"No use dusting it now," he said, setting the thing against the wall.
“现在省得掸灰尘了。”他说着，把相框倚墙放下。
He went to the scullery, and returned with hammer and pincers. Sitting where he had sat before, he started to tear off the back-paper from the big frame, and to pull out the sprigs that held the backboard in position, working with the immediate quiet absorption that was characteristic of him.
他去洗碗池那边，拿回锤子和钳子。他在先前的地方坐下，先把镜框背面的纸撕掉，然后将固定后挡板的图钉拔出，整个过程始终全神贯注，沉静安详，那是他所特有的神态。
He soon had the nails out: then he pulled out the backboards, then the enlargement itself, in its solid white mount. He looked at the photograph with amusement.
他很快将所有钉子拔完，然后取下后挡板，接着把照片从结实的白色衬纸中拿出来。他饶有兴致地看着自己的结婚照。
"Shows me for what I was, a young curate, and her for what she was, a bully," he said. "The prig and the bully!" "Let me look!" Said Connie.
“让我想起自己当年的模样，像个年轻有为的牧师，而她那时候就是个地道的悍妇。”他说。“圣徒与泼妇！”“让我看看！”康妮说。
He did look indeed very clean-shaven and very clean altogether, one of the clean young men of twenty years ago. But even in the photograph his eyes were alert and dauntless. And the woman was not altogether a bully, though her jowl was heavy. There was a touch of appeal in her.
20年前的他确实未曾蓄须，干净利落，是位体态匀称的小伙子。但即便是在照片上，他的双眸依然显得机智敏锐，勇敢无畏。而那女人尽管下颚宽厚，但却并无悍妇模样。反倒有种特殊的魅力。
"One never should keep these things," said Connie. "That one shouldn't! One should never have them made!” He broke the cardboard photograph and mount over his knee, and when it was small enough, put it on the fire.
“没必要留着这种东西。”康妮说。“确实不该留！照都不该照！”他撕扯着硬纸板做成的照片，堆在膝盖上，直到彻底变成碎片，就将其投入炉火中。
"It'll spoil the fire though," he said.
“简直是对火焰的糟蹋。”他说。
The glass and the backboard he carefully took upstairs.
他小心翼翼地把玻璃和后挡板拿到楼上去收好。
The frame he knocked asunder with a few blows of the hammer, making the stucco fly. Then he took the pieces into the scullery.
相框被他几锤砸得粉碎，灰泥扬起，到处乱飞。接着，他将碎片丢到洗涤间。
"We'll burn that tomorrow," he said. "There's too much plaster-moulding on it.” Having cleared away, he sat down.
“那些明天再烧。”他说。“上面抹了太多灰泥。”清理干净后，他重新坐了下来。
"Did you love your wife?" she asked him.
“你爱你的妻子吗？”她问他。
"Love?" He said. "Did you love Sir Clifford?" But she was not going to be put off.
“爱？”他反问道。“那你爱克利福德爵士吗？”但她不想被搪塞过去。
"But you cared for her?" She insisted.
“可你还挂念她吧？”她追问道。
"Cared?" He grinned.
“挂念？”他苦笑着。
"Perhaps you care for her now," she said.
“或许你现在还挂念着她。”她说。
"Me!" His eyes widened. "Ah no, I can't think of her," he said quietly.
“我？”他瞪大眼睛。“噢，不，我从不会想起她。”他轻声说。
"Why?" But he shook his head.
“为什么？”但他摇头不愿作答。
"Then why don't you get a divorce? She'll come back to you one day," said Connie.
“既然这样，你干嘛不离婚？她终有一天会回到你身边。”康妮说。
He looked up at her sharply.
他抬头望着她，目光锐利。
"She wouldn't come within a mile of me. She hates me a lot worse than I hate her.” "You'll see she'll come back to you.” "That she never will. That's done! It would make me sick to see her.” "You will see her. And you're not even legally separated, are you?” "No." "Ah well, then she'll come back, and you'll have to take her in.” He gazed at Connie fixedly. Then he gave the queer toss of his head.
“她根本就不会想回来。她对我的恨甚至更深。”“等着瞧吧，她终归会回来找你的。”“她绝对不会。毫无疑问！看到她我就觉得恶心。”“你还是会见到她。你们并没有依法办理离婚手续，对吗？”“没有。”“那么，如果她回心转意，你就必须收留她。”他目不转睛地盯着康妮。然后，他点点头，动作有些怪异。
"You might be right. I was a fool ever to come back here. But I felt stranded and had to go somewhere. A man's a poor bit of a wastrel blown about. But you're right. I'll get a divorce and get clear. I hate those things like death, officials and courts and judges. But I've got to get through with it. I'll get a divorce.” And she saw his jaw set. Inwardly she exulted. "I think I will have a cup of tea now," she said. He rose to make it. But his face was set. As they sat at table she asked him: "Why did you marry her? She was commoner than yourself. Mrs. Bolton told me about her. She could never understand why you married her." He looked at her fixedly.
“你或许是对的。回到特弗沙尔是个愚蠢的决定。但我当时走投无路，总要找个容身之所。堂堂男子汉总不能四处流浪。但你说得没错。我会去办理离婚，跟她做个了断。我对那种事深恶痛绝，政府官员啦，法庭啦，法官啦……可我还是会完成这项使命。去把婚离了。”康妮眼见他紧咬牙关。内心禁不住狂喜。“我现在想来杯茶。”她说。他站起来为她沏茶。但脸上的表情依然坚决。两人在桌边落座，她问他：“你为何会娶她？她根本配不上你。博尔顿太太跟我讲过她的事。她弄不懂你干嘛要娶她。”他目光不错地看着她。
"I'll tell you," he said. "The first girl I had, I began with when I was sixteen. She was a school-master's daughter over at Ollerton, pretty, beautiful really. I was supposed to be a clever sort of young fellow from Sheffield Grammar School, with a bit of French and German, very much up aloft. She was the romantic sort that hated commonness. She egged me on to poetry and reading: in a way, she made a man of me. I read and I thought like a house on fire, for her. And I was a clerk in Butterley offices, thin, white-faced fellow fuming with all the things I read. And about EVERYTHING I talked to her: but everything. We talked ourselves into Persepolis and Timbuctoo. We were the most literary-cultured couple in ten counties. I held forth with rapture to her, positively with rapture. I simply went up in smoke. And she adored me. The serpent in the grass was sex. She somehow didn't have any; at least, not where it's supposed to be. I got thinner and crazier. Then I said we'd got to be lovers. I talked her into it, as usual. So she let me. I was excited, and she never wanted it. She just didn't want it. She adored me, she loved me to talk to her and kiss her: in that way she had a passion for me. But the other, she just didn't want. And there are lots of women like her. And it was just the other that I did want. So there we split. I was cruel, and left her. Then I took on with another girl, a teacher, who had made a scandal by carrying on with a married man and driving him nearly out of his mind. She was a soft, white-skinned, soft sort of a woman, older than me, and played the fiddle. And she was a demon. She loved everything about love, except the sex. Clinging, caressing, creeping into you in every way: but if you forced her to the sex itself, she just ground her teeth and sent out hate. I forced her to it, and she could simply numb me with hate because of it. So I was balked again. I loathed all that. I wanted a woman who wanted me, and wanted IT.
“我会原原本本地跟你讲。”他说。“我初恋时只有16岁。她父亲是位奥勒顿某间学校的校长，她长相很标致，甚至可以算是美女。当时我刚从谢菲尔德语法学校毕业，对法语和德语稍有涉猎，大家都认为我年轻有为，而我也自视甚高。她天性浪漫，厌倦庸庸碌碌的生活。她鼓励我努力读书，钻研诗歌，从某种程度来讲，是她造就了今天的我。为了她，我发奋读书，全心投入。当时我在巴特利事务所任职，身材瘦削，面容白皙，沉浸在自己阅读的作品中。我俩无话不谈。从波斯古城波利波利斯，聊到西非名城廷巴克图。十乡八镇再也找不出我们这样文学素养高深的情侣。我跟她交谈起来，总是滔滔不绝，欣喜若狂，绝对是如痴如醉。我简直飘飘欲仙了。她对我崇拜得五体投地。但隐藏在草丛中的毒蛇是性爱。她算不上性感，至少并非前凸后翘。我日益消瘦，日渐疯狂。后来我对她说，我们应该成为情人。像以往一样，我顺利地说服了她。于是，她委身于我。我兴奋异常，她却意兴阑珊。她觉得性事索然无味。她仰慕我，喜欢听我说东道西，喜欢我吻她，如此说来，她深爱着我。但除此之外，她却没有半点兴趣。像她这样的女人不在少数。但令我向往的恰恰是其他的事情。因此，我俩之间产生了裂痕。我残忍地抛弃了她。之后，我搞上另外一个女孩，是位教师，曾有过一段风流韵事，跟个有妇之夫纠缠不清，差点把那个男人逼疯。她性情温柔，皮肤白嫩，年纪比我大，还会拉小提琴。她简直是个妖精。恋爱的种种，她都情有独钟，只是对性事敬而远之。拥抱，爱抚，想尽方法跟你调情，但若要强行与她做爱，她就会咬碎银牙，出离愤怒。我逼她成其好事，而她那厌恶的表情让我兴致全消。于是，这段恋情再度告终。我讨厌这种有情无性的关系。我要的是既能接纳我，又乐于性事的女人。”
"Then came Bertha Coutts. They'd lived next door to us when I was a little lad, so I knew "em all right. And they were common. Well, Bertha went away to some place or other in Birmingham; she said, as a lady's companion; everybody else said, as a waitress or something in a hotel. Anyhow just when I was more than fed up with that other girl, when I was twenty-one, back comes Bertha, with airs and graces and smart clothes and a sort of bloom on her: a sort of sensual bloom that you'd see sometimes on a woman, or on a trolly. Well, I was in a state of murder. I chucked up my job at Butterley because I thought I was a weed, clerking there: and I got on as overhead blacksmith at Tevershall: shoeing horses mostly. It had been my dad's job, and I'd always been with him. It was a job I liked: handling horses: and it came natural to me. So I stopped talking "fine", as they call it, talking proper English, and went back to talking broad. I still read books, at home: but I blacksmithed and had a pony-trap of my own, and was My Lord Duckfoot. My dad left me three hundred pounds when he died. So I took on with Bertha, and I was glad she was common. I wanted her to be common. I wanted to be common myself. Well, I married her, and she wasn't bad. Those other "pure" women had nearly taken all the balls out of me, but she was all right that way. She wanted me, and made no bones about it. And I was as pleased as punch. That was what I wanted: a woman who WANTED me to fuck her. So I fucked her like a good un. And I think she despised me a bit, for being so pleased about it, and bringin' her her breakfast in bed sometimes. She sort of let things go, didn't get me a proper dinner when I came home from work, and if I said anything, flew out at me. And I flew back, hammer and tongs. She flung a cup at me and I took her by the scruff of the neck and squeezed the life out of her. That sort of thing! But she treated me with insolence. And she got so's she'd never have me when I wanted her: never. Always put me off, brutal as you like. And then when she'd put me right off, and I didn't want her, she'd come all lovey-dovey, and get me. And I always went. But when I had her, she'd never come off when I did. Never! She'd just wait. If I kept back for half an hour, she'd keep back longer. And when I'd come and really finished, then she'd start on her own account, and I had to stop inside her till she brought herself off, wriggling and shouting, she'd clutch clutch with herself down there, an' then she'd come off, fair in ecstasy. And then she'd say: That was lovely! Gradually I got sick of it: and she got worse. She sort of got harder and harder to bring off, and she'd sort of tear at me down there, as if it was a beak tearing at me. By God, you think a woman's soft down there, like a fig. But I tell you the old rampers have beaks between their legs, and they tear at you with it till you're sick. Self! Self! Self! All self! Tearing and shouting! They talk about men's selfishness, but I doubt if it can ever touch a woman's blind beakishness, once she's gone that way. Like an old trull! And she couldn't help it. I told her about it, I told her how I hated it. And she'd even try. She'd try to lie still and let me work the business. She'd try. But it was no good. She got no feeling off it, from my working. She had to work the thing herself, grind her own coffee. And it came back on her like a raving necessity, she had to let herself go, and tear, tear, tear, as if she had no sensation in her except in the top of her beak, the very outside top tip, that rubbed and tore. That's how old whores used to be, so men used to say. It was a low kind of self-will in her, a raving sort of self-will: like in a woman who drinks. Well in the end I couldn't stand it. We slept apart. She herself had started it, in her bouts when she wanted to be clear of me, when she said I bossed her. She had started having a room for herself. But the time came when I wouldn't have her coming to my room. I wouldn't.
“这时，贝莎·库茨登场了。童年时代，她就住在我家隔壁，彼此十分熟悉。她家人都庸俗不堪。哦，贝莎自称陪同某位贵妇，去了伯明翰的什么地方；但所有人都清楚，她不过在某家旅店做侍应生什么的。总之，我当年21岁，正烦透了第二任女友，这时，贝莎荣归故里，丰姿绰约，仪态万千，衣着华贵，光彩照人。那种感官的愉悦，有时能在女人身上找到，有时则来自某辆崭新的电车。我当时简直生不如死。我辞掉巴特利的工作，因为不想做个微不足道的小职员，回到特弗沙尔做起井上铁匠，多数时间负责钉马掌。那是我父亲的老本行，而当年我总喜欢和他呆在一起。我中意那份差事，愿意料理马，因为这符合我的天性。于是，我不再“咬文嚼字”，大家都这么说，不再讲标准英语，重新操起本地土话。我仍会读书，在家里读。但还继续着铁匠生涯，还混上辆轻型马车，我叫它“达克福德勋爵”。父亲去世时，留给我300英镑。所以，我将贝莎泡到手，我喜欢她那股俗劲儿。我希望她俗到骨子里。也希望自己变得跟她一样。呵，我甚至娶她过门，她并不那么差劲。那些“纯洁”的女人几乎把我的懒子废掉，而她在那方面却令人满意。她想要我，而且从不掩饰自己的欲望。这让我心满意足。这就是我需要的：一个渴望性爱的女人。于是，我就尽量满足她的欲望。我乐此不疲，有时甚至把早餐都给她端到床上，因此，她有些瞧不起我。她简直像个甩手掌柜，我放工回到家，根本连顿像样的晚餐都吃不上。要是我稍有怨言，她就会破口大骂。我也反唇相讥，跟她闹个不可开交。她朝我扔茶杯，我便掐住她的脖颈，几乎将她扼死。此类事情屡见不鲜！可她总是蛮横地对待我。每当我向她求欢，总会遭到拒绝，吃到闭门羹。她想尽方法敷衍我，极尽残忍之能事。后来，因为屡屡被搪塞，我兴致全无，她却变得情意绵绵，主动向我示好。而我总是做出让步。可云雨之时，她从不愿与我共享高潮。从未有过！她只是干耗着。要是我能挺过半小时，她就会挺得更久。我彻底完事之后，她才开始弄自己的，身体扭动着，嘴里淫叫着，而我还得硬挺着等她达到高潮。她的下身夹紧再夹紧，最终攀上欢愉的巅峰。云收雨住后，她会感慨道：简直太爽了！我逐渐厌倦了这种畸形的性爱，而她却变本加厉。她高潮时的动作越来越猛，拼命用下身撕扯我，如同生着锋利的鸟喙。天呢，你或许认为，女人的下体柔软得像颗无花果。可我要告诉你，那些老娼妇两腿之间都长着铁嘴，会没完没了地撕扯你，直到你忍无可忍。自己！自己！自己！只有自己！撕扯着，叫喊着！她们总怨男人自私，可是，若碰到这种疯狂撕扯为能事的荡妇，男人只能自愧不如。简直像个老妓女！而她也是欲罢不能。我曾经跟她谈过此事，告诉她我多么讨厌这样。她甚至也尝试过改变。她试着静静躺在床上，任我驰骋。她确实试过。但却毫无用处。我无法让她体验到任何快感。她只能自己满足自己，自己的咖啡自己磨。就这样，她又回到以往那种近似于癫狂的状态，放纵自己，撕扯，撕扯，再撕扯，好像除了喙尖之外，全身上下都已失去知觉，只有通过拼命的摩擦和撕扯，那里才会体验到快感。人们常说，久混欢场的女子都是如此。她恣意妄为的性格是那样的卑贱和疯癫，跟醉生梦死的酗酒者没什么两样。到最后，我终于忍无可忍。我俩分床睡。事情因她而起，她发起脾气，想我从视线中消失，她说我欺负她。她不再与我同房。后来，我也不再让她进我的房间。再也不想跟她有任何关联。”
"I hated it. And she hated me. My God, how she hated me before that child was born! I often think she conceived it out of hate. Anyhow, after the child was born I left her alone. And then came the war, and I joined up. And I didn't come back till I knew she was with that fellow at Stacks Gate.
“我恨这一切。她却埋怨我。上帝啊，孩子出生之前，她对我的恨简直比海还深。我常想，这孩子是不是她跟仇恨生的。不管怎样，孩子出生后，我便不再理睬她。接着，大战爆发，我就入了伍。直到听说她跟了个斯塔克斯门的家伙，我才回到特弗沙尔。”
He broke off, pale in the face.
他稍作停顿，脸早已失去血色。
"And what is the man at Stacks Gate like?" Asked Connie.
“斯塔克斯门的那个男人长什么样？”康妮问。
"A big baby sort of fellow, very low-mouthed. She bullies him, and they both drink.” "My word, if she came back!" "My God, yes! I should just go, disappear again." There was a silence. The pasteboard in the fire had turned to grey ash.
“像个大男孩，满嘴脏话。她对他任意欺凌，两人还都酗酒。”“天呢，要是她回来怎么办！”“上帝，是啊！那我就赶紧溜走，销声匿迹。”两人都陷入沉默。炉火中的照片已经燃尽，变成灰色的粉末。
"So when you did get a woman who wanted you," said Connie, "you got a bit too much of a good thing." "Ay! Seems so! Yet even then I'd rather have her than the never-never ones: the white love of my youth, and that other poison-smelling lily, and the rest.” "What about the rest?" Said Connie.
“这么说，你得到乐于性事的女人之后，自己却又有过犹不及的感觉。”康妮说。“唉！似乎确实如此！但若时光倒流，我还是会选择她，而不是那些自命清高的女人：我年轻时候的纯洁爱侣，闻闻便会中毒的百合花，或者其他的什么。”“其他的又怎样？”康妮问。
"The rest? There is no rest. Only to my experience the mass of women are like this: most of them want a man, but don't want the sex, but they put up with it, as part of the bargain. The more old-fashioned sort just lie there like nothing and let you go ahead. They don't mind afterwards: then they like you. But the actual thing itself is nothing to them, a bit distasteful. Add most men like it that way. I hate it. But the sly sort of women who are like that pretend they're not. They pretend they're passionate and have thrills. But it's all cockaloopy. They make it up. Then there's the ones that love everything, every kind of feeling and cuddling and going off, every kind except the natural one. They always make you go off when you're not in the only place you should be, when you go off. Then there's the hard sort, that are the devil to bring off at all, and bring themselves off, like my wife. They want to be the active party. Then there's the sort that's just dead inside: but dead: and they know it. Then there's the sort that puts you out before you really "come", and go on writhing their loins till they bring themselves off against your thighs. But they're mostly the Lesbian sort. It's astonishing how Lesbian women are, consciously or unconsciously. Seems to me they're nearly all Lesbian.” "And do you mind?" Asked Connie.
“其他的？倒没啥其他的。不过根据我的经验，女人无外乎以下几种：大多数要个男人来依靠，却不想要性爱，但却可以勉强忍受，作为交易的一部分。稍微老派些的只会干躺在那儿，任你怎样折腾。她们若是爱上你，对这种事也并不会在意。但她们对性爱根本提不起半点兴趣，甚至有些反感。大多数男人喜欢此类女人。而我却不以为然。但也有种女人相当狡猾，明明属于这种类型，却装作不是。她们装得热情似火，意乱情迷。但这些都不过是骗人的鬼把戏。她们只是在装模作样。此外还有一类，她们热衷于各种玩法，花样翻新的爱抚、拥抱以及高潮，唯一不能接受的就是自然而然的那种。她们总能让你在状态不佳时达到高潮。还有一类属于硬骨头，要达到高潮简直难上加难，她们往往选择自力更生，我妻子就是如此。她们需要占据主动的位置。还有一种，她们的体内完全没有感觉，麻木不仁，而她们也深知这一点。再有一种，她们会让你在满足之前就丢盔卸甲，然后继续扭动着腰肢，紧紧抵住你的大腿，直到自己达到高潮。但这类女人多数有同性恋倾向。令人吃惊的是，世间的女子都或多或少有些同性恋，无论有意或者无心。依我看，她们几乎全是同性恋者。”“那你介意吗”康妮问。
"I could kill them. When I'm with a woman who's really Lesbian, I fairly howl in my soul, wanting to kill her.” "And what do you do?" "Just go away as fast as I can." "But do you think Lesbian women any worse than homosexual men?" "I do! Because I've suffered more from them. In the abstract, I've no idea. When I get with a Lesbian woman, whether she knows she's one or not, I see red. No, no! But I wanted to have nothing to do with any woman any more. I wanted to keep to myself: keep my privacy and my decency.” He looked pale, and his brows were sombre.
“我恨不得弄死她们。当我和地道的女同性恋共处，我的内心都在咆哮，只想置她于死地。”“你会怎么做？”“躲得远远的，动作越快越好。”“但你认为与男同性恋相比，女同更加不可救药吗？”“当然！因为她们让我吃到更多苦头。从理论上来讲，我也分不清两者的优劣。要是遇到女同性恋，无论她自己是否意识到这一点，我总会火冒三丈。不，不！可我不再想与任何女人有瓜葛。我宁愿孤身一人，让清静和尊严得以存续。”他脸色苍白，眉头紧锁。
"And were you sorry when I came along?" She asked.
“我的出现，让你感到懊悔吗？”她问。
"I was sorry and I was glad." "And what are you now?" "I'm sorry, from the outside: all the complications and the ugliness and recrimination that's bound to come, sooner or later. That's when my blood sinks, and I'm low. But when my blood comes up, I'm glad. I'm even triumphant. I was really getting bitter. I thought there was no real sex left: never a woman who'd really "come" naturally with a man: except black women, and somehow, well, we're white men: and they're a bit like mud.” "And now, are you glad of me?" She asked.
“既懊悔，又开心。”“那你现在的感受呢？”“我的烦恼来自外界：错综复杂的纠纷，无比丑陋的责难，终究都会到来，不过是早晚的问题而已。当我情绪低落，灰心丧气的时候，往往会这么想。而每当情绪高昂，血脉贲张的时候，却又感觉洋洋自得。甚至是兴高采烈。之前，我确实愈发苦恼。我以为再也遇不到酣畅淋漓的性爱，再也没有能跟男人共享高潮的女人，但黑人女子除外，可我们毕竟是白人，而她们的肤色却有点像泥巴。”“那么现在呢，拥有我，你感到开心吗？”她问。
"Yes! When I can forget the rest. When I can't forget the rest, I want to get under the table and die.” "Why under the table?" "Why?" He laughed. "Hide, I suppose. Baby!" "You do seem to have had awful experiences of women," she said.
“当然！要是能抛开杂念，我确实很开心。可如果做不到，我只想钻到桌子底下死掉。”“为什么要钻到桌子底下？”“为什么？”他笑道。“躲起来吧。宝贝！”“你与女人相处的经历，的确糟糕透顶。”她评价道。
"You see, I couldn't fool myself. That's where most men manage. They take an attitude, and accept a lie. I could never fool myself. I knew what I wanted with a woman, and I could never say I'd got it when I hadn't.” "But have you got it now?" "Looks as if I might have." "Then why are you so pale and gloomy?" "Bellyful of remembering: and perhaps afraid of myself.” She sat in silence. It was growing late.
“我无法做到自欺欺人。而多数男人却能做得到。他们装模作样，面对谎言，慨然接受。我却无法愚弄自己。我清楚自己想从女人那里得到什么，如果未能如愿，我绝不会信口雌黄。”“可你现在如愿以偿了吗？”“似乎是这样。”“那么，你为何还整天苍白无力，愁眉不展？”“满腹回忆难以疏解，或许还有些畏惧自己。”她默默地坐着。夜已深沉。
"And do you think it's important, a man and a woman?” She asked him.
“你真的那么看重男女之事吗？”她问。
"For me it is. For me it's the core of my life: if I have a right relation with a woman.” "And if you didn't get it?” "Then I'd have to do without.” Again she pondered, before she asked: "And do you think you've always been right with women?” "God, no! I let my wife get to what she was: my fault a good deal. I spoilt her. And I'm very mistrustful. You'll have to expect it. It takes a lot to make me trust anybody, inwardly. So perhaps I'm a fraud too. I mistrust. And tenderness is not to be mistaken.” She looked at him.
“对我来说，确实如此。对我来说，是否能跟女人保持正常的性关系，是生活的重心所在。”“可如果得不到呢？”“那我宁愿独身一人。”她沉思片刻，然后再度发问。“你认为自己总能善待女人吗？”“天呢，不！我妻子之所以落得今天这步田地，我要负主要责任。是我宠坏了她。我太过多疑。你以后就会晓得。要我真正相信任何人，确实很困难。或许我本身就是个骗子。所以才会缺乏信任。感情却不容误解。”她望着他。
"You don't mistrust with your body, when your blood comes up," she said. "You don't mistrust then, do you?” "No, alas! That's how I've got into all the trouble. And that's why my mind mistrusts so thoroughly.” "Let your mind mistrust. What does it matter!"
“但血脉贲张的时候，你总该信任自己的肉体。”她说。“你不会怀疑，对吗？”“对。哎呀！正因为此，我才会招来那么多麻烦。心中才会充满疑虑。”“多疑就多疑吧。没什么大不了的！”
The dog sighed with discomfort on the mat. The ash-clogged fire sank.
弗洛西伏在毯子上，苦恼地叹着气。照片燃剩的灰烬将炉火弄弱。
"We are a couple of battered warriors," said Connie. He laughed. "Are you battered too?"
“我们是对遍体鳞伤的勇士。”康妮调侃着。他笑着问。“你也遍体鳞伤？”
"And here we are returning to the fray!" "Yes! I feel really frightened." "Ay!" He got up, and put her shoes to dry, and wiped his own and set them near the fire. In the morning he would grease them. He poked the ash of pasteboard as much as possible out of the fire. "Even burnt, it's filthy," he said. Then he brought sticks and put them on the hob for the morning. Then he went out awhile with the dog.
“而在这里，我们又将重整旗鼓！”“没错！我还真有些害怕。”“唉！”他站起身，把她的鞋拿去烤干，擦拭完自己的靴子，也搁在炉火旁边。清晨时分，他会给靴子上油。他把照片的灰烬拨弄到旁边，尽可能地远离火焰。“即便烧成灰，都脏得要死。”他说。接着，他拿来些柴火，放在炉架上，以备明早使用。然后，他带着猎犬，外出巡视。
When he came back, Connie said: "I want to go out too, for a minute." She went alone into the darkness. There were stars overhead. She could smell flowers on the night air. And she could feel her wet shoes getting wetter again. But she felt like going away, right away from him and everybody.
他回来时，康妮说：“我也想出去，稍微透透气。”她独自步入漆黑的暗夜。头顶是满天繁星。夜晚的寒气里，她嗅得到阵阵花香。她感觉到鞋子再次被打湿。但她此刻却想要逃离，远离他，远离所有人。
It was chilly. She shuddered, and returned to the house. He was sitting in front of the low fire.
天寒地冻。她全身战栗，退回到屋里。他正坐在微弱的炉火旁。
"Ugh! Cold!" She shuddered.
“啊！太冷了！”她哆嗦着说。
He put the sticks on the fire, and fetched more, till they had a good crackling chimneyful of blaze. The rippling running yellow flame made them both happy, warmed their faces and their souls.
他添些柴火，然后又去取了些，直到熊熊烈焰充满烟道，快活的噼啪声传入耳膜。黄色的火焰起伏奔腾着，让两人的情绪都愉悦起来，脸庞和灵魂都得到温暖。
"Never mind!" She said, taking his hand as he sat silent and remote. "One does one's best.” "Ay!" He sighed, with a twist of a smile.
“没关系！”看到他一言不发地远远坐着，她上前握住他的手，安慰道。“尽力就好。”“唉！”他苦笑着，叹了口气。
She slipped over to him, and into his arms, as he sat there before the fire.
他坐在炉火前，她走到他身旁，偎入他的怀中。
"Forget then!" She whispered. "Forget! He held her close, in the running warmth of the fire. The flame itself was like a forgetting. And her soft, warm, ripe weight! Slowly his blood turned, and began to ebb back into strength and reckless vigour again.
“别再想了！”她低语道。“忘掉吧！”他紧紧搂着她，炉火喷出的热气扑面而来。火焰本身似乎拥有让人遗忘的魔力。而她那成熟的肉体更是那样柔软温暖，让他感到实实在在的重量！他的血液慢慢开始转变，变得充满力量与无尽的生气。
"And perhaps the women really wanted to be there and love you properly, only perhaps they couldn't. Perhaps it wasn't all their fault," she said.
“或许那些女人都是真心实意想和你相处，想好好爱你，只是她们做不到而已。或许这并不都是她们的错。”她说。
"I know it. Do you think I don't know what a broken-backed snake that's been trodden on I was myself!” She clung to him suddenly. She had not wanted to start all this again. Yet some perversity had made her.