Unit3AHanging课文翻译
Unit 3
A Hanging
A HANGING
George Orwell
1.It was in Burma, a sodden morning of the rains. We were waiting outside the condemned cells, a row of sheds fronted with double bars, like small animal cages. Each cell measured about ten feet by ten and was quite bare within except for a plank bed and a pot for drinking water. In some of them brown silent men were squatting at the inner bars, with their blankets draped round them. These were the condemned men, due to be hanged within the next week or two.
Detailed Reading
2.One prisoner had been brought out of his cell. He was a Hindu, a puny wisp of a man, with a shaven head and vague liquid eyes. Six tall Indian warders were guarding him and getting him ready for the gallows. Two of them stood by with rifles and
fixed bayonets, while the others handcuffed him, passed a chain through his handcuffs and fixed it to their belts, and lashed his arms tightly to his sides. They crowded very close about him, with their hands always on him in a careful, caressing grip, as though all the while feeling him to make sure he was there. But he stood quite unresisting, yielding his arms limply to the ropes, as though he hardly noticed what was happening.
3.Eight o'clock struck and a bugle call floated from the distant barracks. The superintendent of the jail, who was standing apart from the rest of us, moodily prodding the gravel with his stick, raised his head at the sound. "For God's sake hurry up, Francis," he said irritably. "The man ought to have been dead by this time. Aren't you ready yet?"
4. Francis, the head jailer, a fat Dravidian in a white drill suit and gold spectacles, waved his black hand. "Yes sir, yes sir," he bubbled. "All is satisfactorily prepared. The hangman is waiting. We shall proceed."
5."Well, quick march, then. The prisoners can't get their breakfast till this
job's over."
6.We set out for the gallows. Two warders marched on either side of the prisoner, with their rifles at the slope; two others marched close against him, gripping him by arm and shoulder, as though at once pushing and supporting him. The rest of us, magistrates and the like, followed behind.
7.It was about forty yards to the gallows. I watched the bare brown back of the prisoner marching in front of me. He walked clumsily with his bound arms, but quite steadily. At each step his muscles slid neatly into place, the lock of hair on his scalp danced up and down, his feet printed themselves on the wet gravel. And once,
in spite of the men who gripped him by each shoulder, he stepped slightly aside to avoid a puddle on the path.
8.It is curious, but till that moment I had never realized what it means to destroy a healthy, conscious man. When I saw the prisoner step aside to avoid the puddle I saw the mystery, the unspeakable wrongness, of cutting a life short when it is in full tide. This man was not dying, he was alive just as we are alive. All the organs of his body were working -- bowels digesting food, skin renewing itself,
nails growing, tissues forming -- all toiling away in solemn foolery. His nails
would still be growing when he stood on the drop, when he was falling through the
air with a tenth of a second to live. His eyes saw the yellow gravel and the gray walls, and his brain still remembered, foresaw, reasoned reasoned even about puddles. He and we were a party of men walking together, seeing, hearing, feeling, understanding the same world; and in two minutes, with a sudden snap, one of us would be gone -- one mind less, one world less.
9. The gallows stood in a small yard. The hangman, a gray-haired convict in the white uniform of the prison, was waiting beside his machine. He greeted us with a servile crouch as we entered. At a word from Francis the two warders, gripping the prisoner more closely than ever, half led half pushed him to the gallows and helped him clumsily up the ladder. Then the hangman climbed up and fixed the rope around the prisoner's neck.
10. We stood waiting, five yards away. The warders had formed a rough circle round
the gallows. And then, when the noose was fixed, the prisoner began crying out to
his god. It was a high, reiterated cry of "Ram! Ram! Ram! Ram!" not urgent and
fearful like a prayer or a cry for help, but steady, rhythmical, almost like the
tolling of a bell.
11.The hangman climbed down and stood ready, holding the lever. Minutes seemed to pass. The steady crying from the prisoner went on and on, "Ram! Ram! Ram!" never faltering for an instant. The superintendent, his head on his chest, was slowly poking the ground with his stick; perhaps he was counting the cries, allowing the prisoner a fixed number -- fifty, perhaps, or a hundred. Everyone had changed color. The Indians had gone gray like bad coffee, and one or two of the bayonets were wavering.
12.Suddenly the superintendent made up his mind. Throwing up his head he made a
swift motion with his stick. "Chalo!" he shouted almost fiercely.
13.There was a clanking noise, and then dead silence. The prisoner had vanished, and the rope was twisting on itself. We went round the gallows to inspect the prisoner's body.
He was dangling with his toes pointing straight downward. Very slowly revolving, as dead as a stone.
14.The superintendent reached out with his stick and poked the bare brown body; it oscillated slightly. "He's all right," said the superintendent. He backed out from under the gallows, and blew out a deep breath. The moody look had gone out of his face quite suddenly. He glanced at his wrist watch. "Eight minutes past eight. Well, that's all for this morning, thank God."
15. The warders unfixed bayonets and marched away. We walked out of the gallows yard, past the condemned cells with their waiting prisoners, into the big central yard prison. The convicts were already receiving their breakfast.
They squatted in long rows, each man holding a tin pannikin, while two
warders with buckets march round out rice; it seemed quite a homely, jolly scene, after the hanging. An enormous relief had come upon us now that the
job was done. One felt an impulse to sing, to break into a run, to snigger.
All at once everyone began chattering gaily.
16. The Eurasian boy walking beside me nodded toward the way we had come,
knowing smile, "Do you know sir, our friend (he meant the dead man) when he heard his appeal had been dismissed, he pissed on the floor of his cell. From
fright. Kindly take one of my cigarettes, sir. Do you not admire my new
silver case, sir? Classy European style." 17. Several people laughed -- at
what, nobody seemed certain.
18. Francis was walking by the superintendent, talking garrulously, "Well,
sir, passed off with the utmost satisfactoriness. It was all finished --
flick! Like that. It is not always so -- oah no! I have known cases where the
doctor was obliged to go beneath the gallows and pull the prisoner's legs to ensure decease. Most disagreeable." 19. "Wriggling about, eh? That's bad," said the
superintendent.
bars of his cage when we went to take him out. You will scarcely credit, sir, that it took six warders to dislodge him, three pulling at each leg."
21. I found that I was laughing quite loudly. Everyone was laughing. Even superintendent grinned in a tolerant way. "You'd better all come and have a
drink," said quite genially. "I've got a bottle of whiskey in the car. We could
do with it." 22. We went through the big double gates of the prison into the road. "Pulling at legs!" exclaimed a Burmese magistrate suddenly, and burst into a loud chuckling. We all began laughing again. At that moment Francis' anecdote
seemed extraordinarily funny.
We all had a drink together, native and European alike, quite amicably. The dead man was a hundred yards away.
1. 那是发生在缅甸的事情。 在一个很潮湿的雨季清晨， 我们都在死囚牢房外面等着， 一排 小屋的门上加了双根铁条，就像小动物的笼子。每间牢房大约 10 英寸见方，里面只有一张 木板床和一个盛饮水的罐儿。 有几间里，棕色皮肤的人默默无声地蹲在里面一间的铁条后面， 身上披着毯子。这些都是死囚，在一两周以内将被处以绞刑。
2. 有个囚犯从他的牢房里被带了出来。 他是个印度教徒，身材瘦小， 弱不禁风， 头顶剃得 光光的，双眼水汪汪的，浑浊无神。六个高大的印度狱卒看着他，准备送他上绞刑架。其中 两个手持上了刺刀的长枪， 站在旁边， 其余几个给他戴上手铐， 从手铐中穿上一根链条系在 他们的皮带上， 再把他的手臂紧紧地捆在他身体的两侧。 狱卒们团团站在他周围， 手都小心of the ladling with a all has 20. "Ach, sir, it is worse when they become refractory! One man, I recall, clung to the the
he his
地紧握住他，似乎在抚摸他，时刻确信人就在那儿。然而， 地让绳子捆着，似乎他并没有注意将要发生的事
情。
3. 八点钟的钟声响起， 从远处的军营传来一阵军号
声。 地用手杖戳了戳沙砾地面，随着传来的声响抬起头来。 地说道。 “这家伙此刻早该死啦。你还没有准备好吗？
6. 我们向绞刑架走去。各有两名狱卒走在死囚左右两边，掮着长枪；另外两名紧靠着他， 死死地抓住他的手臂和肩膀，似推似扶着他。我们其余的人，像执法官一类的，跟在后面。
7. 在离绞刑架大约 40 码的地方， 我眼望着那死囚光着膀子的棕颜色脊背， 走在我的前面。 他双臂被捆着， 走起路来虽不灵活， 但稳稳的。身上的肌肉与迈出的步伐很协调， 脑袋上的 那簇头发上下跳跃， 双脚在潮湿的沙砾地面上留下脚印。 有一次， 尽管两个肩膀被人紧握着， 他稍稍地向一旁迈出一小步，为了避开小道上的水坑。
8. 真奇怪， 在那一刻之前， 我从来没有意识到把一个活生生的、 身体健康的人置于死地是 怎么回事。 等看到那死囚为了避开水坑向旁边侧一步的时候， 我发现了将一个正当壮年的生 命戛然结束的神秘， 那是一种无以言表的错误。那个人不是生命垂危， 他活着，像我们一样 活着。他身体里的所有器官还在运作 ——肠子在消化食品、皮肤在自我更新、指甲在生长、 细胞组织在形成 ——全在一本正经地、愚蠢地忙碌着。他站在那块活动踏板上的时候，指甲 还在长； 当他从空中落下来的时候， 他还有十分之一秒的时间活着。 他的双眼将看见黄颜色 的沙砾地面和灰颜色的墙壁，他的头脑仍然会记忆、预见和思考 ——甚至会思考那个水坑。 他和我们是一起向前走的一群人，看见、听见、感觉、理解同一个世界。然而，两分钟后， 突然咔嗒一声，我们当中有一个将死去 ——少了一个头脑，少了一个世界。
9. 绞刑架竖立在一个小院子里。 绞刑手是个满头花白头发的囚犯， 服，在那台机器旁等候着。我们走进去时，他奴颜婢膝地向我们躬身致
意。 一句话， 两名狱卒靠得更近地抓住死囚， 半拉半推地把他带到
绞刑架， 扶梯。然后，绞刑手也爬上去，将绞索套在死囚的脖子上。 10. 我们在五码开外的地方等着。狱卒们围着绞刑架一圈站开。接着，
开始向他的神喊叫起来。声音很高，反复地喊着 “罗摩！罗摩！罗
摩！ 惧求救的祈祷或喊叫，倒是一声接一声，很有节奏感，像击钟的
囚犯毫无反抗地站着，双臂耷拉
监狱长站在我们的外围， 闷闷不乐
“天哪，快点儿，法朗西斯， ”他焦躁
4. 法朗西斯是狱卒小队
长， 边眼镜，挥了挥黑色
的手。 手等着呢。我们马一个胖胖的达罗毗荼人， “好了，好了，监狱长， 身穿白色的斜纹布制服， 还戴副金丝 ”他反反复复地说道。 “万事俱备。绞
5. “行，听好了，齐步走。 等这活儿干完，囚犯们才可以吃早饭。
身穿监狱里白颜色的囚 随着法朗西斯的 笨手笨脚地帮他爬上
等绞索套好后， 死囚
声音。
11. 绞刑手爬了下来，站立着手握杠杆， 准备就绪。好像又过了几分钟。死囚发出的那一声 接一声呼喊还在继续。 “罗摩！罗摩！罗摩！ ”一刻儿都不停顿。监狱长的脑袋低垂在胸前， 慢慢地用手杖戳着地面，他也许正在数着喊叫的次数，允许让死囚喊叫一个固定的次数 大概五十次， 或者一百次。 每个人的脸色都变了。 那几个印度人的脸色像坏了的咖啡， 而且
有一两把刺刀摇晃了起来。 12. 监狱长突然下了决心。他猛地抬起头来，拿起手杖迅速一挥。
吼道。 13. 哐当一声， 接着是死一般的寂静。死囚不见了，就那根绳索在打转。我们走到绞刑架四 周查看死囚的尸体。他悬着，左右晃来晃去的，脚趾直指下方。非常缓慢地转动着，死得像 块石头。
14. 监狱长伸出手杖，戳戳那光着膀子的棕色尸体，那尸体微微地晃动了一下。 “完事了， ” 监狱长说道。他从绞刑架下面退出来，深深地吐了口气。他那副阴沉沉的脸色突然消失了。 他瞟了一眼手表。 “八点零八分。嗯，今天上午的活儿到此为止，谢天谢地。 ” 15. 狱卒们取下刺刀， 迈步走开。 我们从放置绞刑架的院子里走出来， 路过等死囚犯的牢房， 来到监狱的中心大院。 囚犯们已经在领早饭了。 他们一长排一长排地蹲着， 每个人手里拿着 一个锡碗， 两名狱卒抬着饭桶来回打饭。 绞刑刚过，那看上去倒是一个朴实快乐的场景。既 然活儿干完了，我们大大地松了一口气。有一种想唱歌、想狂奔、想偷偷笑一笑的冲动。大 家开始开心地聊起天来。
16. 走在我身边的欧亚混血小伙子朝来的那条路点头示意，面露无所不知的微笑说道， “长
官，您知道吗，我们的朋友 （他指的是那个死人 ）听说上诉被驳回的时候，都尿裤子了，尿在 地板上，吓出来的。长官，请抽支烟吧。长官，我这只新的银烟盒您看看怎么样？正宗的欧 洲款式。 ”
18. 法朗西斯走在监狱长身边，喋喋不休地说： “嗯，长官，事情全办完了，十分满意。啪 的一声，就全完了！并非总是如此的，哦，不是的。我就知道，有几次医生不得不到绞刑架 下面，
啊呀，长官，那些家伙不听话起来就更加麻烦了！我记得，有个家伙我们
带他出来时， 长官啊，你简直不会相信，用了六个狱卒才把他拽出来， 三个人拖
发灰，
绞了！ ”他近乎残暴地大
17. 有几个人哈哈大笑起来
笑什么，好像谁也不清楚。
抓住囚犯的腿向下拉，才死的。麻烦得很。
19. 哦，抽动着？太糟糕了， ”监狱长说道。
20. 拼命地抓住牢房的铁条。
一条腿。” 21. 我发现自己在哈哈大笑，声音很响。每个人都在哈哈大笑。连监狱长也宽容地露出牙齿笑了。“大家都来喝杯酒吧，”他和蔼地说道，“我车上有一瓶威士忌，我们几个喝。” 22. 我们穿过双铁条的监狱大门，走到大路上。“拉他的腿！”一个缅甸人执法官突然嚷嚷道，又咯咯地大笑起来。我们大家再次开始大笑。此时此刻，法朗西斯讲的事情似乎格外好玩。我们大家一起喝了杯酒，当地人和欧洲人，很和睦。那个死人就在一百码之外。