http://www.gutenberg.org/files/160/160-h/160-h.htm
THE AWAKENING AND SELECTED SHORT STORIES
Kate Chopin
凯特·肖邦短篇小说集
翻译：若离
THE AWAKENING
觉醒
I
A green and yellow parrot, which hung in a cage outside the door, kept repeating over and over:
“Allez vous-en! Allez vous-en! Sapristi! That’s all right!”
一只黄绿相间的鹦鹉挂在门外的笼子里，一遍又一遍叫唤：“滚吧！滚吧，天哪！那才像话！”
He could speak a little Spanish, and also a language which nobody understood, unless it was the mocking-bird that hung on the other side of the door, whistling his fluty notes out upon the breeze with maddening persistence.
它可能会说一点西班牙语，可能还会一种谁都不懂的语言，不过唯一的知音就是挂在大门另一头的反舌鸟。微风中传来它高亢的叫声，没完没了，让人心烦。
Mr. Pontellier, unable to read his newspaper with any degree of comfort, arose with an expression and an exclamation of disgust.
这让庞蒂里耶先生感觉恶心。他烦闷地嚷起来，根本没法舒舒服服地看他的报纸。
He walked down the gallery and across the narrow “bridges” which connected the Lebrun cottages one with the other. He had been seated before the door of the main house. The parrot and the mockingbird were the property of Madame Lebrun, and they had the right to make all the noise they wished. Mr. Pontellier had the privilege of quitting their society when they ceased to be entertaining.
他本来坐在堂屋门前，这会儿他沿着长廊走下去，穿过了连接勒布伦家一间间屋子的狭窄“天桥”。那只鹦鹉和反舌鸟都是勒布伦太太的，它们有权随心所欲地制造各种噪音。要是觉得它们再也不能带来什么乐子，庞蒂耶里也有权不再和它们打交道。
He stopped before the door of his own cottage, which was the fourth one from the main building and next to the last. Seating himself in a wicker rocker which was there, he once more applied himself to the task of reading the newspaper. The day was Sunday; the paper was a day old. The Sunday papers had not yet reached Grand Isle. He was already acquainted with the market reports, and he glanced restlessly over the editorials and bits of news which he had not had time to read before quitting New Orleans the day before.
庞蒂耶里的住处在堂屋边上第四间，挨着最后一间。走到自家门前，他停住脚步，坐在那里放着的一张摇椅上。他再一次试着专心读报纸。今天是星期日，报纸是一天前的。周日的报纸还没送到格兰德岛上。他已经了解手中这份报的市场报道，又焦躁不安地扫了扫社评和零零碎碎的新闻，那些都是他在离开新奥尔良前一天没有时间读的。
Mr. Pontellier wore eye-glasses. He was a man of forty, of medium height and rather slender build; he stooped a little. His hair was brown and straight, parted on one side. His beard was neatly and closely trimmed.
庞蒂耶里已是不惑之年。他身高中等，体型较瘦，背有点驼。他戴着一副眼镜，棕色的直发偏分，胡子纹丝不乱，精心修过。
Once in a while he withdrew his glance from the newspaper and looked about him. There was more noise than ever over at the house. The main building was called “the house,” to distinguish it from the cottages. The chattering and whistling birds were still at it. Two young girls, the Farival twins, were playing a duet from “Zampa” upon the piano. Madame Lebrun was bustling in and out, giving orders in a high key to a yard-boy whenever she got inside the house, and directions in an equally high voice to a dining-room servant whenever she got outside. She was a fresh, pretty woman, clad always in white with elbow sleeves. Her starched skirts crinkled as she came and went. Farther down, before one of the cottages, a lady in black was walking demurely up and down, telling her beads. A good many persons of the pension had gone over to the Cheniere Caminada in Beaudelet’s lugger to hear mass. Some young people were out under the wateroaks playing croquet. Mr. Pontellier’s two children were there—sturdy little fellows of four and five. A quadroon nurse followed them about with a faraway, meditative air.
他有一阵没盯着报纸，而是打量四周。这栋房子比过去聒噪了。为了和旁边相连的度假屋区分，大家把占据中心位置的宅第称为“堂屋”。现在，还有些鸟在堂屋唧唧啾啾。法瑞尔加的两个双胞胎女儿坐在钢琴边，四手联弹歌剧《赞帕》的旋律。勒布伦太太跑进跑出，只要人在堂屋，就会高声给杂役发号施令。这位夫人模样清丽，是个美人。她常穿白衣，袖子只到手肘位置。因为经常进进出出，她身上浆过的硬挺裙子起了皱。再远一点，堂屋边上的一间小屋前，有位黑衣女士走来走去，数着手上的念珠，仪态端庄。这片度假屋的很多住户都乘着包德勒家的小帆船，去了卡米纳达岛，参加天主教的弥撒仪式。一些年轻人也出了门，在湿地栎树下玩槌球。庞蒂耶里的孩子也在其中，他们一个四岁一个五岁，长得很结实。一位混血黑人保姆跟在这两个小不点后面，有点心不在焉，想着什么心事。
Mr. Pontellier finally lit a cigar and began to smoke, letting the paper drag idly from his hand. He fixed his gaze upon a white sunshade that was advancing at snail’s pace from the beach. He could see it plainly between the gaunt trunks of the water-oaks and across the stretch of yellow camomile. The gulf looked far away, melting hazily into the blue of the horizon. The sunshade continued to approach slowly. Beneath its pink-lined shelter were his wife, Mrs. Pontellier, and young Robert Lebrun. When they reached the cottage, the two seated themselves with some appearance of fatigue upon the upper step of the porch, facing each other, each leaning against a supporting post.
庞蒂耶里终于点上一根烟，开始抽起来，报纸随意拖在手上。他盯住一把白色的阳伞，那东西正从海滩上慢慢挪过来。透过干瘦的湿地栎树树干和黄色的洋甘菊花丛，他还能清楚地看到那把伞。远处的海湾正在融入蓝色的天际。阳伞还在慢慢靠近。伞边是粉色的，伞下是他妻子庞蒂耶里太太和年轻的罗伯特·勒布伦。他们走到屋前，一屁股坐在走廊的上一级台阶上，两人面对面，各自背靠一根柱子撑起身子，一脸倦色。
“What folly! to bathe at such an hour in such heat!” exclaimed Mr. Pontellier. He himself had taken a plunge at daylight. That was why the morning seemed long to him.
“真傻！这种时候，这么热的天跑去晒太阳！”庞蒂耶里嚷起来。之前自己也在太阳底下待过，所以他觉得这个上午实在漫长。
“You are burnt beyond recognition,” he added, looking at his wife as one looks at a valuable piece of personal property which has suffered some damage. She held up her hands, strong, shapely hands, and surveyed them critically, drawing up her fawn sleeves above the wrists. Looking at them reminded her of her rings, which she had given to her husband before leaving for the beach. She silently reached out to him, and he, understanding, took the rings from his vest pocket and dropped them into her open palm. She slipped them upon her fingers; then clasping her knees, she looked across at Robert and began to laugh. The rings sparkled upon her fingers. He sent back an answering smile.
“看把你晒的，都认不出来了。” 他又来了一句。说这话时，他打量着妻子，像在端详一件有些损坏的贵重私人物品。妻子抬起手，手看着有劲，但样子很好看。她带着挑剔的眼光检查双手，然后拉下浅黄褐色的袖子，胳膊只露出手腕。查看手的时候，她想起去海边以前交给丈夫的戒指，于是默默地把手伸到丈夫面前。他看出什么意思，从背心口袋里取出戒指，把它们放在妻子摊开的手掌上。她把戒指一溜戴到手指上，接着抱起膝盖，看向对面的罗伯特，开始放声大笑。戒指在手指上亮闪闪的。罗伯特回她一个微笑。
“What is it?” asked Pontellier, looking lazily and amused from one to the other. It was some utter nonsense; some adventure out there in the water, and they both tried to relate it at once. It did not seem half so amusing when told. They realized this, and so did Mr. Pontellier. He yawned and stretched himself. Then he got up, saying he had half a mind to go over to Klein’s hotel and play a game of billiards.
“这是什么情况？”庞蒂耶里问道。他漫不经心地看着这一幕，给这两个人先后的反应逗乐了。也没什么大不了的事，两人都想一股脑倒出来他们在水里的一些经历。可嘴上说着似乎一点也没有真正经历的那么有趣。两人意识到了这点，庞蒂耶里也是。他打了个哈欠，伸伸懒腰，随后站起身，说他考虑要不要去克莱恩的旅馆打台球。
“Come go along, Lebrun,” he proposed to Robert. But Robert admitted quite frankly that he preferred to stay where he was and talk to Mrs. Pontellier.
“一起去吧，勒布伦。”他向罗伯特提议。但罗伯特直截了当地说，他更想留在这儿和庞蒂耶里太太聊天。
“Well, send him about his business when he bores you, Edna,” instructed her husband as he prepared to leave.
“好吧，爱德娜，你要是觉得他烦了，就打发他去干自己的事。”庞蒂耶里准备离开，这样吩咐妻子。
“Here, take the umbrella,” she exclaimed, holding it out to him. He accepted the sunshade, and lifting it over his head descended the steps and walked away.
“拿去，带上伞。”妻子叫住他，把伞递过去。他接过阳伞，举着它挡住头，下了台阶，就要走远。
“Coming back to dinner?” his wife called after him. He halted a moment and shrugged his shoulders. He felt in his vest pocket; there was a ten-dollar bill there. He did not know; perhaps he would return for the early dinner and perhaps he would not. It all depended upon the company which he found over at Klein’s and the size of “the game.” He did not say this, but she understood it, and laughed, nodding good-by to him.
“回来吃晚饭吗？”妻子在身后问道。他顿了一会儿，耸耸肩。他摸摸背心口袋，里面又十美元钞票。他不知道，也许会赶早回来吃午饭，也许回不来。这要看他在克莱恩那边找到什么玩伴，还有那所谓“游戏”玩得多大。这话他没说出口，可妻子听出来了。她笑着点头，和他道别。
Both children wanted to follow their father when they saw him starting out. He kissed them and promised to bring them back bonbons and peanuts.
孩子们看到爸爸要走了，都想跟去。他亲了亲两个宝贝，答应回家的时候给他们带些夹心糖和花生。
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