Day 18

We went up-stairs, through period bedrooms swathed in rose and lavender silk and vivid with new flowers, through dressing-rooms and poolrooms, and bathrooms with sunken baths—intruding into one chamber where a disheveled man in pajamas was doing liver exercises on the floor. It was Mr. Klipspringer, the “boarder.” I had seen him wandering hungrily about the beach that morning. Finally, we came to Gatsby’s own apartment, a bedroom and a bath, and an Adam study, where we sat down and drank a glass of some Chartreuse he took from a cupboard in the wall.

我们走上楼，穿过一间间仿古的卧室，里面铺满了玫瑰色和淡紫色的绸缎，摆满了色彩缤纷的鲜花，穿过一间间更衣室和弹子室，以及嵌有地下浴池的浴室--闯进一间卧室，里面有一个邋里邋遢穿着睡衣的人正在地板上做俯卧撑。那是"房客"克利普斯普林格先生。那天早上我看到过他如饥似渴地在海滩上徘徊。最后我们来到盖茨比本人的套间，包括一间卧室、一间浴室和一间小书房。我们在书房里坐下，喝了一杯他从壁橱里拿出来的荨麻酒。

period costume/dress/furniture: the clothes or furniture of a particular time in history

swathe [sweɪð] v.  用布包裹; 用绷带缠 to wrap round or cover with clot

He hadn’t once ceased looking at Daisy, and I think he revalued everything in his house according to the measure of response it drew from her well-loved eyes. Sometimes, too, he stared around at his possessions in a dazed way, as though in her actual and astounding presence none of it was any longer real. Once he nearly toppled down a flight of stairs.

他一刻不停地看着黛西，因此我想他是在把房子里的每一件东西都按照那双他所钟爱的眼睛里的反应重新估价。有时他也神情恍惚地向四面凝视他自己的财物，仿佛在她这个惊心动魄的真人面前，所有这些东西就没有一件是真实的了。有一次他差点从楼梯上滚了下去。

His bedroom was the simplest room of all—except where the dresser was garnished with a toilet set of pure dull gold. Daisy took the brush with delight, and smoothed her hair, whereupon Gatsby sat down and shaded his eyes and began to laugh.

他自己的卧室是所有屋子中最简朴的一间--只有梳妆台上点缀着一副纯金的梳妆用具。黛西高兴地拿起了刷子刷刷头发，引得盖茨比坐下来用手遮住眼睛笑了起来。

“It’s the funniest thing, old sport,” he said hilariously. “I can’t—When I try to——”

"真是最滑稽的事情，老兄，"他嘻嘻哈哈地说，"我简直不能……我想要……"

He had passed visibly through two states and was entering upon a third. After his embarrassment and his unreasoning joy, he was consumed with wonder at her presence. He had been full of the idea so long, dreamed it right through to the end, waited with his teeth set, so to speak, at an inconceivable pitch of intensity. Now, in the reaction, he was running down like an overwound clock.

显而易见，他已经历了两种精神状态，现在正进入第三种。他起初局促不安，继而大喜若狂，目前又由于她出现在眼前感到过分惊异而不能自持了。这件事他长年朝思暮想，梦寐以求，简直是咬紧了牙关期待着，感情强烈到不可思议的程度。此刻，由于反作用，他像一架发条上得太紧的时钟一样精疲力竭了。

Recovering himself in a minute he opened for us two hulking patent cabinets which held his massed suits and dressing-gowns and ties, and his shirts, piled like bricks in stacks a dozen high.

过了一会儿，精神恢复之后，他为我们打开了两个非常讲究的特大衣橱，里面装满了他的西装、晨衣和领带，还有一打一打像砖头一样堆起来的衬衣。

“I’ve got a man in England who buys me clothes. He sends over a selection of things at the beginning of each season, spring and fall.”

"我有一个人在英国替我买衣服。每年春秋两季开始的时候，他都挑选一些东西寄给我。"

He took out a pile of shirts and began throwing them, one by one, before us, shirts of sheer linen and thick silk and fine flannel, which lost their folds as they fell and covered the table in many-colored disarray. While we admired, he brought more and the soft rich heap mounted higher—shirts with stripes and scrolls and plaids in coral and apple-green and lavender and faint orange, and monograms of Indian blue. Suddenly, with a strained sound, Daisy bent her head into the shirts and began to cry stormily.

他拿出一堆衬衫，开始一件一件扔在我们面前，薄麻布衬衫、厚绸衬衫、细法兰绒衬衫都抖散了，五颜六色摆满了一桌。我们欣赏着的时候，他又继续抱来其他的，那个柔软贵重的衬衣堆越来越高--条子衬衫、花纹衬衫、方格衬衫，珊瑚色的、苹果绿的、浅紫色的、淡桔色的、上面绣着深蓝色的他的姓名的交织字母。突然之间，黛西发出了很不自然的声音，一下把头埋进衬衫堆里，号陶大哭起来。

“They’re such beautiful shirts,” she sobbed, her voice muffled in the thick folds. “It makes me sad because I’ve never seen such—such beautiful shirts before.”

"这些衬衫这么美，"她呜咽地说，她的声音在厚厚的衣堆里闷哑了，"我看了很伤心，因为我从来没见过这么--这么美的衬衫。"

After the house, we were to see the grounds and the swimming-pool, and the hydroplane and the mid-summer flowers—but outside Gatsby’s window it began to rain again, so we stood in a row looking at the corrugated surface of the Sound.

看过房子之后，我们本来还要去看看庭园和游泳池、水上飞机和仲夏的繁花--但是盖茨比的窗外又下起雨来了，因此我们三人就站成一排远眺水波荡漾的海面。

 “If it wasn’t for the mist we could see your home across the bay,” said Gatsby. “You always have a green light that burns all night at the end of your dock.”

"要不是有雾，我们可以看见海湾对面你家的房子，"盖茨比说，"你家码头的尽头总有一盏通宵不灭的绿灯。"

Daisy put her arm through his abruptly, but he seemed absorbed in what he had just said. Possibly it had occurred to him that the colossal significance of that light had now vanished forever. Compared to the great distance that had separated him from Daisy it had seemed very near to her, almost touching her. It had seemed as close as a star to the moon. Now it was again a green light on a dock. His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.

黛西蓦然伸过胳臂去挽着他的胳臂，但他似乎沉浸在他方才所说的话里。可能他突然想到那盏灯的巨大意义现在永远消失了。和那把他跟黛西分开的遥远距离相比较，那盏灯曾经似乎离她很近，几乎碰得着她。那就好像一颗星离月亮那么近一样。现在它又是码头上的一盏绿灯了。他的神奇的宝物已经减少了一件。

I began to walk about the room, examining various indefinite objects in the half darkness. A large photograph of an elderly man in yachting costume attracted me, hung on the wall over his desk.

我开始在屋子里随便走走，在半明半暗的光线中看看各种各样模糊不清的摆饰。一个身穿游艇服的上年纪的男人的一张大相片引起了我的注意，相片挂在他书桌前面的墙上。

“Who’s this?”

"这是谁？"

“That? That’s Mr. Dan Cody, old sport.”

"那个？那是丹·科迪先生，老兄。"

The name sounded faintly familiar.

那名字听着有点耳熟。

“He’s dead now. He used to be my best friend years ago.”

"他已经死了。很多年前他是我最好的朋友。"

There was a small picture of Gatsby, also in yachting costume, on the bureau—Gatsby with his head thrown back defiantly—taken apparently when he was about eighteen.

五斗橱上有一张盖茨比本人的小相片，也是穿着游艇服的--盖茨比昂着头，一副满不在乎的神气--显然是十八岁左右照的。

“I adore it,” exclaimed Daisy. “The pompadour! You never told me you had a pompadour—or a yacht.”

"我真爱这张相片，"黛西嚷嚷道，"这个笔直向后梳的发型！你从来没告诉我你留过笔直向后梳的发型，也没告诉我你有一艘游艇。"

“Look at this,” said Gatsby quickly. “Here’s a lot of clippings—about you.”

"来看这个，"盖茨比连忙说，"这里有好多剪报--都是关于你的"

They stood side by side examining it. I was going to ask to see the rubies when the phone rang, and Gatsby took up the receiver.

他们俩并肩站着细看那些剪报。我正想要求看看那些红宝石，电话忽然响了，盖茨比就拿起了听筒。

“Yes. . . . well, I can’t talk now. . . . I can’t talk now, old sport. . . . I said a small town. . . .

he must know what a small town is. . . . well, he’s no use to us if Detroit is his idea of a

small town. . . .”

"是的……噢，我现在不便谈……我现在不便谈，老兄……我说的是一个小城……他一定知道什么是小城……得啦，他对我们没什么用处，如果底特律就是他心目中的小城……"

He rang off.

他把电话挂上。

“Come here quick!”cried Daisy at the window.

"到这儿来，快！"黛西在窗口喊道。

The rain was still falling, but the darkness had parted in the west, and there was a pink and golden billow of foamy clouds above the sea.

雨还在下，可是西方的乌云已经拨开，海湾上空翻滚着粉红色和金色的云霞。

“Look at that,” she whispered, and then after a moment: “I’d like to just get one of those pink clouds and put you in it and push you around.”

"瞧那个，"她低声道，过了一刻又说，"我真想采一朵那粉红色的云彩，把你放在上面推来推去。"

I tried to go then, but they wouldn’t hear of it; perhaps my presence made them feel more satisfactorily alone.

我这时想要走了，可是他们说什么也不答应。也许有我在场他们更可以心安理得地待在一起。

“I know what we’ll do,” said Gatsby, “we’ll have Klipspringer play the piano.”

"我知道我们于什么好了，"盖茨比说，"我们让克利普斯普林格弹钢琴。"

He went out of the room calling “Ewing!” and returned in a few minutes accompanied by an embarrassed, slightly worn young man, with shell-rimmed glasses and scanty blond hair. He was now decently clothed in a “sport shirt,” open at the neck, sneakers, and duck trousers of a nebulous hue.

他走出屋子喊了一声"艾温"，又过了几分钟才回来，带来一个难为情的、面容有点憔翠的年轻人，一副玳瑁边眼镜，稀稀的金黄色头发。他现在衣服整齐一些了，穿着一件敞领的运动衫、一双运动鞋和一条颜色不清不楚的帆布裤。

nebulous [ˈneb.jʊ.ləs] adj. (especially of ideas) unclear and lacking form

“Did we interrupt your exercises?” inquired Daisy politely.

"我们刚才打扰您做体操了吗？"黛西有礼貌地问。

“I was asleep,” cried Mr. Klipspringer, in a spasm of embarrassment. “That is, I’d been asleep. Then I got up. . . .”

"我在睡觉，"克利普斯普林格先生窘迫之中脱口而出，"我是说，我本来在睡觉。后来我起床了……"

“Klipspringer plays the piano,” said Gatsby, cutting him off. “Don’t you, Ewing, old sport?”

"克利普斯普林格会弹钢琴，"盖茨比打断了他的话说，"是不是，艾温，老兄？"

“I don’t play well. I don’t—I hardly play at all. I’m all out of prac——”

"我弹得不好。我不会……根本不弹。我好久没练……"

“We’ll go down-stairs,”interrupted Gatsby. He flipped a switch. The gray windows disappeared as the house glowed full of light.

"我们到楼下去。"盖茨比打断了他的话。他拨了一个开关。整个房子立刻大放光明，灰暗的窗户都不见了。

In the music-room Gatsby turned on a solitary lamp beside the piano. He lit Daisy’s cigarette from a trembling match, and sat down with her on a couch far across the room, where there was no light save what the gleaming floor bounced in from the hall.

在音乐厅里，盖茨比只扭开钢琴旁边的一盏灯。他颤抖着用一根火柴点燃了黛西的香烟，然后和她一道坐在屋子那边远远的一张长沙发上，那里除了地板上从过道里反射过来的一点亮光之外没有其他光线。

When Klipspringer had played THE LOVE NEST. he turned around on the bench and searched unhappily for Gatsby in the gloom.

克利普斯普林格弹完了《爱情的安乐窝》之后，在长凳上转过身来，不高兴地在幽暗中张望着找盖茨比。

“I’m all out of practice, you see. I told you I couldn’t play. I’m all out of prac——”

"我好久没弹了，你看。我告诉你我不会弹。我好久没弹……"

“Don’t talk so much, old sport,” commanded Gatsby. “Play!”

"别说那么多，老兄，"盖茨比命令道，"弹吧！"

“IN THE MORNING,

IN THE EVENING,

AIN’T WE GOT FUN——”

"每天早上，每天晚上，玩得欢畅……"

Outside the wind was loud and there was a faint flow of thunder along the Sound. All the lights were going on in West Egg now; the electric trains, men-carrying, were plunging home through the rain from New York. It was the hour of a profound human change, and excitement was generating on the air.

外面风刮得呼呼的，海湾上传来一阵隐隐的雷声。此刻西卵所有的灯都亮了。电动火车满载归客，在雨中从纽约疾驰而来。这是人事发生深刻变化的时辰，空气中洋溢着兴奋的情绪。

“ONE THING’S SURE AND NOTHING’S SURER

THE RICH GET RICHER ANDTHE POOR GET—CHILDREN.

IN THE MEANTIME,

IN BETWEEN TIME——”

"有一件事是千真万确，

富的生财穷的生--孩子。

在这同时，

在这期间……"

As I went over to say good-by I saw that the expression of bewilderment had come back into Gatsby’s face, as though a faint doubt had occurred to him as to the quality of his present happiness. Almost five years! There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams—not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion. It had gone beyond her, beyond everything. He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.

我走过去告辞的时候，我看到那种惶惑的表情又出现在盖茨比脸上，仿佛他有点怀疑他目前幸福的性质。几乎五年了！那天下午一定有过一些时刻，黛西远不如他的梦想--并不是由于她本人的过错，而是由于他的幻梦有巨大的活力。他的幻梦超越了她，超越了一切。他以一种创造性的热情投入了这个幻梦，不断地添枝加叶，用飘来的每一根绚丽的羽毛加以缀饰。再多的激情或活力都赶不上一个人阴凄凄的心里所能集聚的情思。

As I watched him he adjusted himself a little, visibly. His hand took hold of hers, and as she said something low in his ear, he turned toward her with a rush of emotion. I think that voice held him most, with its fluctuating, feverish warmth, because it couldn’t be over-dreamed—that voice was a deathless song.

我注视着他的时候，看得出来他在悄悄使自己适应眼前的现实。他伸出手去抓住她的手。她低低在他耳边说了点什么，他听了就感情冲动地转向她。我看最使他人迷的是她那激动昂扬的声音，因为那是无论怎样梦想都不可能企及的--那声音是一曲永恒的歌。

They had forgotten me, but Daisy glanced up and held out her hand; Gatsby didn’t know me now at all. I looked once more at them and they looked back at me, remotely, possessed by intense life. Then I went out of the room and down the marble steps into the rain, leaving them there together.

他俩已经把我忘了，但黛西抬起头来瞥了一眼，伸出了手。盖茨比此刻压根儿不认识我了。我又看了他俩一眼，他们也看看我，好像远在天涯，沉浸在强烈的感情之中。我随即走出屋子，走下大理石台阶到雨里面去，留下他们两人在一起。