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泄密的心 The Tell-tale Heart双语阅读

作者:爱伦·坡 来源:开心美文网 时间:2016-07-17 阅读: 在线投稿
泄密的心 The Tell-tale Heart双语阅读



英语原著原文阅读
THE TELL-TALE HEART
by Edgar Allan Poe
1843
 
TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story.
 
It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! Yes, it was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture -- a pale blue eye with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me my blood ran cold, and so by degrees, very gradually, I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye for ever.
 
Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded -- with what caution -- with what foresight, with what dissimulation, I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night about midnight I turned the latch of his door and opened it oh, so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern all closed, closed so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly, very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! would a madman have been so wise as this? And then when my head was well in the room I undid the lantern cautiously -- oh, so cautiously -- cautiously (for the hinges creaked), I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights, every night just at midnight, but I found the eye always closed, and so it was impossible to do the work, for it was not the old man who vexed me but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he had passed the night. So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed , to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.
 
Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers, of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was opening the door little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea, and perhaps he heard me, for he moved on the bed suddenly as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back -- but no. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness (for the shutters were close fastened through fear of robbers), and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.
 
I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening , and the old man sprang up in the bed, crying out, "Who's there?"
 
I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed, listening; just as I have done night after night hearkening to the death watches in the wall.
 
Presently, I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief -- oh, no! It was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him although I chuckled at heart. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself, "It is nothing but the wind in the chimney, it is only a mouse crossing the floor," or, "It is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp." Yes he has been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions ; but he had found all in vain. ALL IN VAIN, because Death in approaching him had stalked with his black shadow before him and enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to feel, although he neither saw nor heard, to feel the presence of my head within the room.
 
When I had waited a long time very patiently without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a little -- a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it -- you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily -- until at length a single dim ray like the thread of the spider shot out from the crevice and fell upon the vulture eye.
 
It was open, wide, wide open, and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness -- all a dull blue with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones, but I could see nothing else of the old man's face or person, for I had directed the ray as if by instinct precisely upon the damned spot.
 
And now have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over-acuteness of the senses? now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well too. It was the beating of the old man's heart. It increased my fury as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.
 
But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder, every instant. The old man's terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! -- do you mark me well? I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me -- the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once -- once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But for many minutes the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.
 
If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence.
 
I took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly so cunningly, that no human eye -- not even his -- could have detected anything wrong. There was nothing to wash out -- no stain of any kind -- no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that.
 
When I had made an end of these labours, it was four o'clock -- still dark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a light heart, -- for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police. A shriek had been heard by a neighbour during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodged at the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed to search the premises.
 
I smiled, -- for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house. I bade them search -- search well. I led them, at length, to his chamber. I showed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.
 
The officers were satisfied. My MANNER had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They sat and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears; but still they sat, and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct : I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definitiveness -- until, at length, I found that the noise was NOT within my ears.
 
No doubt I now grew VERY pale; but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased -- and what could I do? It was A LOW, DULL, QUICK SOUND -- MUCH SUCH A SOUND AS A WATCH MAKES WHEN ENVELOPED IN COTTON. I gasped for breath, and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly, more vehemently but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why WOULD they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men, but the noise steadily increased. O God! what COULD I do? I foamed -- I raved -- I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder -- louder -- louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly , and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! -- no, no? They heard! -- they suspected! -- they KNEW! -- they were making a mockery of my horror! -- this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! -- and now -- again -- hark! louder! louder! louder! LOUDER! --
 
"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! -- tear up the planks! -- here, here! -- it is the beating of his hideous heart!" 织梦内容管理系统

泄密者的心  中文翻译后文章阅读:
没错!神经过敏──我从来就而且现在也非常非常地神经过敏。可你干吗要说我是发疯?这种病曾一直使我的感觉敏锐──没使它们失灵──没使它们迟钝。尤其是我的听觉曾格外敏感。我曾听见天堂和人世的万事万物。我曾听见地狱里的许多事情。那么,我现在怎么会疯呢?听好!并注意我能多么神志健全,多么沉着镇静地给你讲这个完整的故事
 
现在已没法说清当初那个念头是怎样钻进我脑子的,但它一旦钻入,就日日夜夜缠绕着我。没有任何动机。没有任何欲望。我爱那个老人。他从不曾伤害过我。他从不曾侮辱过我。我也从不曾希图过他的钱财。我想是因为他的眼睛!对,正是如此!他有只眼睛就像是兀鹰的眼睛──淡淡的蓝色,蒙着一层阴翳。每当那只眼睛落在我身上,我浑身的血液都会变冷。于是渐渐地──慢慢地──我终于拿定了主意要结果那老人的生命,从而永远摆脱他那只眼睛。
 
那么这就是关键。你以为我疯了。疯了啥也不知道。可你当初真该看看我。你真该看看我动手是多么精明──看看我是以何等的小心谨慎──何等的远见卓识──何等的故作镇静去做那件事情!在杀死那位老人之前的一个星期里,我对他从来没有过那么亲切。每天晚上半夜时分,我转动他的门闩并推开他的房门──哦,推得多轻!然后,当我把门推开到足以探进我的头时,我先伸进一盏遮得严严实实、透不出一丝光线的提灯,接着再探进我的脑袋。哦,你要是看见我是如何机灵地探进脑袋一定会发笑!我一点一点地探──非常非常地慢──以免惊扰了老人的睡眠。我花了一个小时才把头探进门缝,这时方能看见他躺在床上。哈!难道一个疯子有这般精明?然后,当我的脑袋已探进房间,我便小心翼翼地打开提灯──哦,非常小心──非常小心(因为灯罩轴吱嘎作响)──我只把提灯隙开一条缝,让一束细细的灯光照亮那只鹰眼。这样我一连干了七夜,每次都恰好在午夜时分。可是我发现那只眼睛总是闭着,这样就使得我没法下手,因为让我恼火的不是老人,而是他那只“邪恶的眼睛”。而每天早晨天一亮,我便勇敢地走进他的卧室,大胆地跟他说话,亲热地对他直呼其名,并询问他夜里睡得可否安稳。所以你瞧,要怀疑我每天半夜十二点整趁他睡觉时偷偷去看望他,那他可真得是个深谋远虑的老人。
 
第八天晚上,我比往日更加小心地推开房门。就连表上分针的移动也比我开门的速度更快。那天晚上我第一次感觉到了自己的力量和机敏的程度。我几乎按捺不住心中那股得意劲儿。你想我就在那儿,一点一点地开门,而他甚至连做梦也想不到我神秘的举动和暗藏的企图。想到这儿我忍不住抿嘴一笑,而他也许听见了我的声音,因为他突然动了动身子,仿佛是受到了惊吓。这下你或许会认为我缩了回去──可我没有。他的房间里黑咕隆咚伸手不见五指(因为害怕盗贼,百叶窗被关得严严实实),所以我知道他不可能看见门被推开。我依然继续一点一点地推开房门。
 
我探进了脑袋,正要打开提灯,这时我的拇指在铁皮罩扣上滑了一下,老人霍然从床上坐起,大声问道──“谁在那儿?”
 
我顿时一动不动,一声不吭。整整一个小时我连眼皮都没眨动,与此同时我也没听见他重新躺下。他一直静静地坐在床上,侧耳聆听──就跟我每天夜里倾听墙缝里报死虫的声音一样。
 
随后我听见了一声轻轻的呻吟,而我知道那是极度恐惧时的呻吟。这样的呻吟不是因为痛苦或悲伤──哦,不是!──它是当灵魂被恐惧彻底压倒时从心底发出的一种低沉压抑的声音。我熟悉这种声音。多少个夜晚,当更深人静,当整个世界悄然无声,它总是从我自己的心底涌起,以它可怕的回响加深那使我发狂的恐惧。我说我熟悉那种声音。我知道那位老人感觉到了什么,虽说我心里暗自发笑,可我还是觉得他可怜。我知道自从那第一声轻微的响动惊得他在床上翻了个身之后,他就一直睁着眼躺在床上。从那时起他的恐惧感就在一点一点地增加。他一直在试图使自己相信没有理由感到恐惧,可他未能做到。他一直在对自己说──“那不过是风穿过烟囱──那仅仅是一只老鼠跑过地板”,或者“那只是一只蟋蟀叫了一声”。是的,他一直在试图用这些假设来宽慰自己,但他终于发现那是枉费心机。一切都枉费心机,因为走向他的死神已到了他跟前,幽暗的死荫已把他笼罩。而正是那未被察觉的死荫令人沮丧的影响使他感觉到──尽管他既没有看见也没有听到──感觉到我的脑袋探进了他的房间。
 
我耐心地等了很长一段时间,没有听见他重新躺下。于是我决定把灯罩虚开一条缝──一条很小很小的缝。于是我开始动手──你简直想象不出我有多轻多轻──直到最后,一线细如游丝的微弱灯光终于从灯罩缝中射在了那只鹰眼上。
 
那只眼睛睁着──圆圆地睁着──而我一看见它就怒不可遏。我当时把它看得清清楚楚── 一团浑浊的蓝色,蒙着层可怕的阴翳,它使我每一根骨头的骨髓都凉透;但我看不见脸上的其余部分和老人的躯体,因为仿佛是出于本能,我将那道光线丝毫不差地对准了那个该死的蓝点。
 
瞧,我难道没告诉过你,你所误认为的疯狂只不过是感觉的过分敏锐?那么现在我告诉你,当时我的耳朵里传进了一种微弱的、沉闷的、节奏很快的声音,就像是一只被棉花包着的表发出的声音。我也熟悉那种声音。那是老人的心在跳动。它使我更加狂怒,就像是咚咚的战鼓声激发出了士兵的勇气。
 
但我仍然控制住自己,仍然保持一声不吭。我几乎没有呼吸。我举着灯一动不动。我尽可能让那束灯光稳定地照在那只眼上。与此同时那可怕的心跳不断加剧。随着分分秒秒的推移,那颗心跳得越来越快,越来越响。那老人心中的恐惧肯定已到了极点!我说随着时间的推移,那心跳的声音变得越来越响!你明白我的意思吗?我已经告诉过你我神经过敏,我的确神经过敏。而当时是在夜深人静的时刻,在那幢老房子可怕的沉寂之中,那么奇怪的一种声音自然使我感到难以抑制的恐惧。但在相当长一段时间里,我仍然抑制住恐惧静静地站着。可那心跳声越来越响!我想那颗心肯定会炸裂。而这时我又感到一种新的担忧──这声音恐怕会被邻居听见!那老人的死期终于到了!随着一声呐喊,我亮开提灯并冲进了房间。他尖叫了一声──只叫了一声。转眼之间我已把他拖下床来,而且把那沉重的床推到压在他身上。眼见大功告成,我不禁喜笑颜开。但在好几分钟内,那颗心仍发出低沉的跳动声。不过它并没使我感到恼火,那声音不会被墙外边听到。最后它终于不响了。那个老人死了。我把床搬开,检查了一下尸体。不错,他死了,的确死了。我把手放在他心口试探了一阵。没有心跳。他完全死了。他那只眼睛再也不会折磨我了。
 
如果你现在还认为我发疯,那待我讲完我是如何精明地藏尸灭迹之后你就不会那么认为了。当时夜色将尽,而我干得飞快但悄然无声。首先我是把尸体肢解。我一一砍下了脑袋、胳膊和腿。
 
接着我撬开卧室地板上的三块木板,把肢解开的尸体全塞进木缝之间。然后我是那么精明又那么老练地把木板重新放好,以至于任何人的眼睛──包括他那只眼睛──都看不出丝毫破绽。房间也用不着打扫洗刷──没有任何污点──没有任何血迹。对这一点我考虑得非常周到。一个澡盆就盛了一切──哈!──哈!
 
当我弄完一切,已是凌晨四点。天仍然和半夜时一样黑。随着四点的钟声敲响,临街大门传来了敲门声。我下楼去开门时心情非常轻松──还有什么好怕的呢?三位先生进到屋里,彬彬有礼地介绍说他们是警官。有位邻居在夜里听到了一声尖叫,怀疑发生了什么恶事凶行,于是便报告了警察局,而他们(三名警官)则奉命前来搜查那幢房子。
 
我满脸微笑──因为我有什么好怕的呢?我向几位先生表示欢迎。我说那声尖叫是我在梦中发出。我告诉他们那位老人到乡下去了。我领着他们在房子里走了个遍。我请他们搜查──好好搜查。最后我带他们进了老人的卧室。我让他们看老人收藏得好好的金钱珠宝。出于我的自信所引起的热心,我往卧室里搬进了几把椅子,并请他们在那儿休息休息,消除疲劳。而出于我的得意所引起的大胆,我把自己的椅子就安在了下面藏着尸体的那个位置。
 
警官们相信了我的话。我的举止使他们完全放心。我当时也格外舒坦。他们坐了下来,而当我畅畅快快回答问题时,他们同我聊起了家常。但没过一会儿,我觉得自己脸色发白,心里巴不得他们快走。我开始头痛,并感到耳鸣;可他们仍然坐着与我闲聊。耳鸣声变得更加明显──它连绵不断而且越来越清晰;我开始侃侃而谈,想以此来摆脱那种感觉;但它连绵不断而且越来越明确──直到最后我终于发现那声音并不是我的耳鸣。
 
这时我的脸色无疑是变得更白,但我更是提高嗓门海阔天空。然而那声音也在提高──我该怎么办?那是一种微弱的、沉闷的、节奏很快的声音──就像是一只被棉花包着的表发出的声音。我已透不过气──可警官们还没有听见那个声音。我以更快的语速更多的激情夸夸其谈,但那个声音越来越响。我用极高的声调并挥着猛烈的手势对一些鸡毛蒜皮的小事高谈阔论,但那个声音越来越响。他们干吗还不想走?我踏着沉重的脚步在地板上走来走去,好像是那些人的见解惹我动怒──但那个声音仍然越来越响。哦,主啊!我该怎么办?我唾沫四溅──我胡言乱语──我破口大骂!我拼命摇晃我坐的那把椅子,让它在地板上磨得吱嘎作响,但那个声音压倒一切,连绵不断,越来越响。它越来越响──越来越响──越来越响!可那几个人仍高高兴兴,有说有笑。难道他们真的没听见?万能的主啊?──不,不!他们听见了!他们怀疑了!──他们知道了!──他们是在笑话我胆战心惊!──我当时这么想,现在也这么看。可无论什么都比这种痛苦好受!无论什么都比这种嘲笑好受!我再也不能忍受他们虚伪的微笑!我觉得我必须尖叫,不然就死去!──而听──它又响了!──听啊!──它越来越响!越来越响!越来越响!──
 
“你们这群恶棍!”我尖声嚷道,“别再装聋作哑!我承认那事!──撬开这些地板!──这儿,在这儿!──这是他可怕的心在跳动!”
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