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解密目标语言:英语                                解密辅助语言:汉语
              Language to be decoded:  English             Auxiliary Language :  Chinese  

  
                    
解密文本:     《财神与爱神》   [美] 欧亨利 原著      
 

 

            Mammon and the Archer      
                                                                     by   O. Henry   
                                                                

          只看英语(English Only)                                        英汉对照(English & Chinese)                                     只看汉语(Chinese Only)


  


      Old Anthony Rockwall, retired manufacturer and proprietor of Rockwall's Eureka Soap, looked out the library window of his Fifth Avenue mansion and grinned. His neighbour to the right--the aristocratic clubman, G. Van Schuylight Suffolk-Jones--came out to his waiting motor-car, wrinkling a contumelious nostril, as usual, at the Italian renaissance sculpture of the soap palace's front elevation.

"Stuck-up old statuette of nothing doing!" commented the ex-Soap King. "The Eden Musee'll get that old frozen Nesselrode yet if he don't watch out. I'll have this house painted red, white, and blue next summer and see if that'll make his Dutch nose turn up any higher."

And then Anthony Rockwall, who never cared for bells, went to the door of his library and shouted "Mike!" in the same voice that had once chipped off pieces of the welkin on the Kansas prairies.

"Tell my son," said Anthony to the answering menial, "to come in here before he leaves the house."

When young Rockwall entered the library the old man laid aside his newspaper, looked at him with a kindly grimness on his big, smooth, ruddy countenance, rumpled his mop of white hair with one hand and rattled the keys in his pocket with the other.

"Richard," said Anthony Rockwail, "what do you pay for the soap that you use?"

Richard, only six months home from college, was startled a little. He had not yet taken the measure of this sire of his, who was as full of unexpectednesses as a girl at her first party.

"Six dollars a dozen, I think, dad."

"And your clothes?"

"I suppose about sixty dollars, as a rule."

"You're a gentleman," said Anthony, decidedly. "I've heard of these young bloods spending $24 a dozen for soap, and going over the hundred mark for clothes. You've got as much money to waste as any of 'em, and yet you stick to what's decent and moderate. Now I use the old Eureka--not only for sentiment, but it's the purest soap made. Whenever you pay more than 10 cents a cake for soap you buy bad perfumes and labels. But 50 cents is doing very well for a young man in your generation, position and condition. As I said, you're a gentleman. They say it takes three generations to make one. They're off. Money'll do it as slick as soap grease. It's made you one. By hokey! it's almost made one of me. I'm nearly as impolite and disagreeable and ill-mannered as these two old Knickerbocker gents on each side of me that can't sleep of nights because I bought in between 'em."

"There are some things that money can't accomplish," remarked young Rockwall, rather gloomily.

"Now, don't say that," said old Anthony, shocked. "I bet my money on money every time. I've been through the encyclopaedia down to Y looking for something you can't buy with it; and I expect to have to take up the appendix next week. I'm for money against the field. Tell me something money won't buy."

"For one thing," answered Richard, rankling a little, "it won't buy one into the exclusive circles of society."

"Oho! won't it?" thundered the champion of the root of evil. "You tell me where your exclusive circles would be if the first Astor hadn't had the money to pay for his steerage passage over?"

Richard sighed.

"And that's what I was coming to," said the old man, less boisterously. "That's why I asked you to come in. There's something going wrong with you, boy. I've been noticing it for two weeks. Out with it. I guess I could lay my hands on eleven millions within twenty-four hours, besides the real estate. If it's your liver, there's the Rambler down in the bay, coaled, and ready to steam down to the Bahamas in two days."

"Not a bad guess, dad; you haven't missed it far."

"Ah," said Anthony, keenly; "what's her name?"

Richard began to walk up and down the library floor. There was enough comradeship and sympathy in this crude old father of his to draw his confidence.

"Why don't you ask her?" demanded old Anthony. "She'll jump at you. You've got the money and the looks, and you're a decent boy. Your hands are clean. You've got no Eureka soap on 'em. You've been to college, but she'll overlook that."

"I haven't had a chance," said Richard.

"Make one," said Anthony. "Take her for a walk in the park, or a straw ride, or walk home with her from church Chance! Pshaw!"

"You don't know the social mill, dad. She's part of the stream that turns it. Every hour and minute of her time is arranged for days in advance. I must have that girl, dad, or this town is a blackjack swamp forevermore. And I can't write it--I can't do that."

"Tut!" said the old man. "Do you mean to tell me that with all the money I've got you can't get an hour or two of a girl's time for yourself?"

"I've put it off too late. She's going to sail for Europe at noon day after to-morrow for a two years' stay. I'm to see her alone to-morrow evening for a few minutes. She's at Larchmont now at her aunt's. I can't go there. But I'm allowed to meet her with a cab at the Grand Central Station to-morrow evening at the 8.30 train. We drive down Broadway to Wallack's at a gallop, where her mother and a box party will be waiting for us in the lobby. Do you think she would listen to a declaration from me during that six or eight minutes under those circumstances? No. And what chance would I have in the theatre or afterward? None. No, dad, this is one tangle that your money can't unravel. We can't buy one minute of time with cash; if we could, rich people would live longer. There's no hope of getting a talk with Miss Lantry before she sails."

"All right, Richard, my boy," said old Anthony, cheerfully. "You may run along down to your club now. I'm glad it ain't your liver. But don't forget to burn a few punk sticks in the joss house to the great god Mazuma from time to time. You say money won't buy time? Well, of course, you can't order eternity wrapped up and delivered at your residence for a price, but I've seen Father Time get pretty bad stone bruises on his heels when he walked through the gold diggings."

That night came Aunt Ellen, gentle, sentimental, wrinkled, sighing, oppressed by wealth, in to Brother Anthony at his evening paper, and began discourse on the subject of lovers' woes.

"He told me all about it," said brother Anthony, yawning. "I told him my bank account was at his service. And then he began to knock money. Said money couldn't help. Said the rules of society couldn't be bucked for a yard by a team of ten-millionaires."

"Oh, Anthony," sighed Aunt Ellen, "I wish you would not think so much of money. Wealth is nothing where a true affection is concerned. Love is all-powerful. If he only had spoken earlier! She could not have refused our Richard. But now I fear it is too late. He will have no opportunity to address her. All your gold cannot bring happiness to your son."

At eight o'clock the next evening Aunt Ellen took a quaint old gold ring from a moth-eaten case and gave it to Richard.

"Wear it to-night, nephew," she begged. "Your mother gave it to me. Good luck in love she said it brought. She asked me to give it to you when you had found the one you loved."

Young Rockwall took the ring reverently and tried it on his smallest finger. It slipped as far as the second joint and stopped. He took it off and stuffed it into his vest pocket, after the manner of man. And then he 'phoned for his cab.

At the station he captured Miss Lantry out of the gadding mob at eight thirty-two.

"We mustn't keep mamma and the others waiting," said she.

"To Wallack's Theatre as fast as you can drive!" said Richard loyally.

They whirled up Forty-second to Broadway, and then down the white-starred lane that leads from the soft meadows of sunset to the rocky hills of morning.

At Thirty-fourth Street young Richard quickly thrust up the trap and ordered the cabman to stop.

"I've dropped a ring," he apo1ogised, as he climbed out. "It was my mother's, and I'd hate to lose it. I won't detain you a minute--I saw where it fell."

In less than a minute he was back in the cab with the ring.

But within that minute a crosstown car had stopped directly in front of the cab. The cabman tried to pass to the left, but a heavy express wagon cut him off. He tried the right, and had to back away from a furniture van that had no business to be there. He tried to back out, but dropped his reins and swore dutifully. He was blockaded in a tangled mess of vehicles and horses.

One of those street blockades had occurred that sometimes tie up commerce and movement quite suddenly in the big city.

"Why don't you drive on?" said Miss Lantry, impatiently. "We'll be late."

Richard stood up in the cab and looked around. He saw a congested flood of wagons, trucks, cabs, vans and street cars filling the vast space where Broadway, Sixth Avenue and Thirty-fourth street cross one another as a twenty-six inch maiden fills her twenty-two inch girdle.

And still from all the cross streets they were hurrying and rattling toward the converging point at full speed, and hurling themselves into the struggling mass, locking wheels and adding their drivers' imprecations to the clamour. The entire traffic of Manhattan seemed to have jammed itself around them. The oldest New Yorker among the thousands of spectators that lined the sidewalks had not witnessed a street blockade of the proportions of this one.

"I'm very sorry," said Richard, as he resumed his seat, "but it looks as if we are stuck. They won't get this jumble loosened up in an hour. It was my fault. If I hadn't dropped the ring we--"Let me see
the ring," said Miss Lantry. "Now that it can't be helped, I don't care. I think theatres are stupid, anyway."

At 11 o'clock that night somebody tapped lightly on Anthony Rockwall's door.

"Come in," shouted Anthony, who was in a red dressing-gown, reading a book of piratical adventures.

Somebody was Aunt Ellen, looking like a grey-haired angel that had been left on earth by mistake.

"They're engaged, Anthony," she said, softly. "She has promised to marry our Richard. On their way to the theatre there was a street blockade, and it was two hours before their cab could get out of it.

"And oh, brother Anthony, don't ever boast of the power of money again. A little emblem of true love--a little ring that symbolised unending and unmercenary affection--was the cause of our Richard finding his happiness. He dropped it in the street, and got out to recover it. And before they could continue the blockade occurred.
He spoke to his love and won her there while the cab was hemmed in. Money is dross compared with true love, Anthony."

"All right," said old Anthony. "I'm glad the boy has got what he wanted. I told him I wouldn't spare any expense in the matter if--"

"But, brother Anthony, what good could your money have done?"

"Sister," said Anthony Rockwall. "I've got my pirate in a devil of a scrape. His ship has just been scuttled, and he's too good a judge of the value of money to let drown. I wish you would let me go on with this chapter."

The story should end here. I wish it would as heartily as you who read it wish it did. But we must go to the bottom of the well for truth.

The next day a person with red hands and a blue polka-dot necktie, who called himself Kelly, called at Anthony Rockwall's house, and was at once received in the library.

"Well," said Anthony, reaching for his chequebook, "it was a good bilin' of soap. Let's see--you had $5,000 in cash."

"I paid out $3OO more of my own," said Kelly. "I had to go a little above the estimate. I got the express wagons and cabs mostly for $5; but the trucks and two-horse teams mostly raised me to $10. The motormen wanted $10, and some of the loaded teams $20. The cops struck me hardest--$50 I paid two, and the rest $20 and $25. But didn't it work beautiful, Mr. Rockwall? I'm glad William A. Brady wasn't onto that little outdoor vehicle mob scene. I wouldn't want William to break his heart with jealousy. And never a rehearsal, either! The boys was on time to the fraction of a second. It was two hours before a snake could get below Greeley's statue."

"Thirteen hundred--there you are, Kelly," said Anthony, tearing off a check. "Your thousand, and the $300 you were out. You don't despise money, do you, Kelly?"

"Me?" said Kelly. "I can lick the man that invented poverty."

Anthony called Kelly when he was at the door.

"You didn't notice," said he, "anywhere in the tie-up, a kind of a fat boy without any clothes on shooting arrows around with a bow, did you?"

"Why, no," said Kelly, mystified. "I didn't. If he was like you say, maybe the cops pinched him before I got there."

"I thought the little rascal wouldn't be on hand," chuckled Anthony. "Good-by, Kelly."

 

   

老安东尼洛克沃尔是已退休的洛氏尤列卡肥皂厂的制造商和业主。他正从自己第五大道宅第的书房的窗子里向外面瞧。像往常一样,他总要朝那肥皂王宫正面高处的意大利文艺复兴式雕塑嗤之以鼻。

“一事无成,这目空一切的糟老头!”前任肥皂大王评论道。“要是他不留神,伊甸园的陈列馆会把这老得僵硬的纳斯尔罗德抓去当展览品。等到夏天我要将这屋子漆得五颜六色,看看这会叫他的荷兰鼻子翘多高。”

安东尼洛克沃尔向来不喜欢打铃叫人,他走到书房门口大喊“迈克”,其嗓门之高,当年曾响彻堪萨斯大草原辽阔的天空。他对应声前来的仆人说:“去告诉少爷,叫他出去之前先到我这里来一趟。”

小洛克沃尔走进书房的时候,老头儿撂下报纸,光滑红润的大脸膛显出又慈爱又严肃的神情瞧着儿子,一只手揉着满头白发,另一只手在口袋里哐啷啷地摆弄着一串钥匙。

“理查德,”安东尼洛克沃尔说,“你用的肥皂花多少钱买的?”

理查德从大学毕业回家才六个月,听了不免一惊。他还没有摸清老人的意图。这老人活像第一次举行招待会的姑娘,老是提出一些叫人意料不到的问题。

“我想是六块钱一打,爹。”

“还有你的衣服呢?”

“一般是六十元左右一套。”

“你是上流社会的人。”安东尼毫不含糊地说,“我听说那些花花公子用二十四元一打的肥皂,一套衣服花上百元开外。你跟他们随便哪一个有同样多的钱好花,可是你倒是规规矩矩,很有分寸。我用的还是老尤列卡,这不仅仅是个感情问题,而且因为它是质地最纯的肥皂,要是你买一块肥皂超过一角钱,那超出的部分无非是瘪脚的香料和标签包装。五毛钱一块的肥皂对你们这一代年轻人、对你的地位和境况来说,已经很不错了。我说过,你是一个上流社会的人。他们说要经过三代才能造就出一个上流社会的人物,他们瞎说。有钱就办得到,而且办得像肥皂油脂一样滑溜。钱已经将你变成一个上流人物!天哪,也几乎将我变成一个。我差不多同那两个荷兰裔的老爷一样粗鲁,讨人嫌,这一对左邻右舍夜里睡不安稳,只因为我买下了他们两家中间的房产。”

“也有些事情光有钱也办不到。”小洛克沃尔不无忧郁地提醒他父亲。

“你可别这么说,”老安东尼吃惊地说,“有钱能使鬼推磨。我翻检了百科全书,几乎从头翻到尾,想找找有什么事拿钱买不到。下星期我还要连附录都翻一遍。我宁可要钱而不要田地。你倒说说有什么东西用钱买不到。”

“举个例子来说吧,”理查德不无怨恨地说,“上流社会还有高人一等的、封闭性的小圈子,你花了钱也挤不进去呀!”

“啊哈!挤不进吗?”这位“万恶之源”的拥护者咆哮着说,“假如阿斯特的祖先没有钱买统舱票来到美国,你倒说说你那高人一等的小圈子在哪里。”

理查德叹了一口气。

“我要跟你谈的正是这件事。”老人的嗓音放低了些,“这就是我叫你来的缘故。你近来有点不对劲,孩子。我已经留心了两个星期了,有什么事说出来吧。我想在二十四小时之内我能筹措一千一百万,不动产不计在内。如果是你的肝病犯了,那么‘漫游号’就停在海湾里,上足了煤,两天之内就可以开到巴哈马群岛。”

“你猜得差不多,爹,虽不中,但也不远了!”

“啊,我懂了,”安东尼热心地说,“她叫什么名字?”

理查德在书房里走来走去。他的这位粗鲁的老爸爸既然这样关心和富有同情心,他只好说出实情以取得他的信任。

“你为什么不向她求婚呢?”安东尼追问道,“她会扑到你怀里。你有钱,长得又漂亮,而且你一向正正派派。你的手是干干净净的,没有沾上尤列卡的油脂。你读过大学,不过这一点她不会计较的。”

“我还没有找到机会。”理查德说。

“那就制造个机会呀!”安东尼说,“带她到公园散散步,或者带她去野餐,或者做完礼拜从教堂送她回家。找不到机会!呸!”

“你不了解社交界的情况,爹,那像一盘水磨,而她是推动磨盘转的一股水流。她接连几天的每一小时甚至每一分钟都是预先安排停当的。我一定要娶这个姑娘,爹,不然这座城市对我来说就成了腐臭的沼泽。我又不能写信向她求婚,那样做不行。”

“咄!”老头子说,“你是想对我说,我有那么多钱支持你,你就不能争取一个姑娘一两个钟头的时间?”

“只怪我拖延得太久。她后天中午动身去欧洲,要在那里呆两年。明天晚上我能单独会见她几分钟。她现在在拉契蒙特她姑妈家。我不能到那里去。可是她答应我明天晚上雇马车到中央车站去接她,她乘的是八点三十分到达的火车。我们要乘车赶到百老汇沃拉克戏院,她的母亲邀人看戏,将在门厅里等我们。你以为在那种情况下她能在七八分钟里听我表白心意吗?不可能。在戏院里或者以后我还会有机会表白吗?没有了。这就是你的钱解不开的结。我们没法用现钞买一分钟时间。如果买得到,富人就会活得更长了。总之,在兰特里小姐动身之前没有希望再同她好好谈一阵了。”

“好吧,理查德,我的孩子,”老安东尼高高兴兴地说,“你现在可以赶紧到你的俱乐部去了。可是别忘了不时到财神庙里去烧几炷香。你说钱买不到时间?对,当然,你没法让‘永恒’包扎好送交你的住宅。不过我倒看见过时光老人走过金矿时,脚后跟给矿石磕碰得伤痕累累。”

当天夜里,安东尼正在看晚报,艾伦姑妈来看兄弟了。艾伦姑妈温文尔雅,多愁善感,满脸皱纹,给财富压得唉声叹气。姐弟俩拿情人的苦恼作为话题。

“他把什么都告诉我啦。”安东尼说到这里打了个呵欠,“我跟他讲我的银行账目随他用,而他却攻击起钱来,说是有钱也没有用,还说十个百万富翁也休想掀动社会规律一步。”

“啊,安东尼,”艾伦姑妈叹口气说,“我希望你不要把钱看得太重了。碰到真正的感情问题,财富不算回事,爱情才是万能的。要是他早说出来多好!她该不会拒绝理查德。不过我怕现在为时已晚,他不会有机会向她求婚了。你全部金子也无法给你儿子带来幸福了。”

第二天夜里八点钟,艾伦姑妈从一只虫蛀的小盒子里取出一枚古雅的金戒指交给理查德。

“侄子,你今天夜里戴上它,”她央求道,“这是你母亲给我的,她说它会给爱情带来好运。她要我在你找到一个心上人时交给你。”

小洛克沃尔恭恭敬敬地接过戒指,想将它戴在小拇指上。戒指滑到第二个指关节就卡住了,他就将它脱下来塞到背心口袋里去。

八点三十二分,他在车站嘈杂的人群中接到了兰特里小姐。

“我们不能让妈妈和别的人久等。”她说。

“到沃拉克戏院,越快越好。”理查德唯命是从地吩咐马车夫。

马车飞快地向百老汇奔驰,先是走在第四十二街,然后折进一条灯光灿烂如星辰的小街,从田园风光的西部直奔高楼林立的东部。

在第三十四街的路口,理查德急忙推开活动窗,吩咐马车夫停车。

“我掉了一只戒指,”他下车的时候抱歉地说,“这是我母亲的,我不愿把它丢了。最多耽搁你一分钟——我看到它掉在那儿。”

果真不到一分钟他就拿着戒指回到马车上。

可是就在这一分钟里,一辆穿城而过的汽车正好在马车对面停住了。马车夫试着从汽车左边插过去,可是前面又给一辆笨重的运货快车挡住去路。他想从右边试试,又不得不退回来让开停在那儿的一辆堆满家具的大马车。他想倒退也不成,索兴扔下缰绳,骂骂咧咧地表示他是尽忠职守的。总之马车是被乱七八糟的车和马团团围住了。

在大城市里,有时候会突然发生这种堵车现象,交通一时受阻。

“你为什么不叫快赶路呀?”兰特里小姐不耐烦地问,“我们要迟到了。”

理查德在车厢里站了起来四下张望。他看到一大群货车、卡车、马车和交通车在百老汇、第六大道、第三十四街这一大片地区内挤成一团,就像二十六英寸腰围的姑娘束着二十二英寸的腰带。而且还有各种车辆从几条横街上车辚辚马萧萧地全速向这个中心汇集,轮毂交错,难解难分,一片喧嚣中夹着车夫们的咒骂。总之,曼哈顿区的整个交通似乎在这一带塞住了。人行道上成千上万的过路人驻足观望,连资格最老的纽约佬也没有见识过哪一次交通阻塞达到这样的程度。

“我真抱歉,”理查德回到座位上说,“看来我们是给卡住了,这场混乱一个小时也松动不了。都怪我,如果我没有丢那戒指,我们——”

“让我瞧瞧那只戒指。”兰特里小姐说,“事已至此,由它去吧。反正看戏也无聊。”

当天夜里十一点,有人轻轻地敲安东尼洛克沃尔的门。

“进来。”安东尼喊道。他穿着件红色睡袍,在读一本海盗冒险小说。

来者是艾伦姑妈,像是个披着灰发的安琪儿,出了什么岔子流落在人间。

“他们订婚啦,安东尼。”她轻轻地说,“她答应同我们家理查德结婚。他们去戏院的路上给堵了车,过了两小时他们乘的马车才摆脱困境。”

“啊,你看,安东尼兄弟,别再夸口金钱万能了。一件表示真正爱情的信物——一枚象征着金钱买不到的永恒爱情的小戒指,是理查德找到幸福的根源。他把戒指掉在街上了,下车去捡它,还没有来得及继续赶路就发生了堵车。马车给围困在当中,他向他的心上人求婚而她答应了。比起真正的爱情,金钱不过是粪土,安东尼!”

“好哇,”老安东尼说,“我很高兴这孩子如愿以偿。我跟他讲过在这件事上我将不惜任何代价,只要——”

“可是,安东尼兄弟,你的钱究竟起了什么作用?”

“姐姐,”安东尼洛克沃尔说,“我的海盗正处在千钧一发的关头。他的船已给凿穿了,他太清楚将要沉没的钱财值多大的价。我希望你让我把这一章看完。”

故事讲到这里就该结束了。我也希望像读者诸君那样,欢天喜地让它收场。可是为了搞清真相,我们还得刨根究底。

第二天一个双手通红、系着蓝底圆点领带、自称叫凯利的人,来到洛克沃尔家,立即被带进书房。

“嗯,”安东尼伸手去取他的支票簿,“这锅肥皂熬得好。我来瞧瞧——你已经支了五千元现钞。”

“我自己又垫付了三百块,”凯利说,“不得不超过一点预算。运货快车和马车一般是五块一辆;不过卡车和两匹马拉的车多半要我提价到十块一辆;汽车司机一个要十块,装了货的要二十。警察敲得我最凶——有两个我各付五十块,其余的有的二十,有的二十五。不过您看搞得可漂亮,洛克沃尔先生?我很高兴威廉阿布雷迪先生没有看到这一幕小小的车群外景。我不愿看到威廉因忌妒而伤心。而且连一次彩排都没有。伙计们都准时赶到,半秒都不差。整整两个钟头,连一条蛇都钻不到格里利的塑像脚下。”

“这里是一千三,凯利,”安东尼说,撕下一张支票。“一千是你的酬劳,三百是你垫付的,你不会看不起钱,是吗,凯利?”

“我?”凯利说,“谁发明了贫穷看我不揍他。”

凯利已经走到门边,安东尼又把他叫回来。

“你有没有注意到,”他说,“在交通阻塞的地方,有个裸体的胖娃娃,张着弓四处射箭,你看到了吗?”

“哦,没有,”凯利说,他给问得迷糊起来,“我没有看到。如果这小子像您说的那样,不等我到那里,可能警察就把他抓住了。”

“我以为那小流氓也不会在场的。”安东尼哑然失笑,“再见吧,凯利。”


 

  


 

 

       分类:             国芳多语对照文库 >> 英语-汉语 >> 欧亨利 >> 短篇小说      
    Categories:  Xie's Multilingual Corpus >> English-Chinese >> O. Henry >> Short Novel                                                  
    

 

 



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