当前位置:搜档网 > 全大学英语综合教程课文原文及翻译


unit 6 The Last Leaf

When Johnsy fell seriously ill, she seemed to lose the will to hang on to life. The doctor held out little hope for her. Her friends seemed helpless. Was there nothing to be done?


1 At the top of a three-story brick building, Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at a cafe on Eighth Street and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so much in tune that the joint studio resulted.


2 That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the district, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Johnsy was among his victims. She lay, scarcely moving on her bed, looking through the small window at the blank side of the next brick house.



3 One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a bushy,

gray eyebrow.


4 "She has one chance in ten," he said. "And that chance is for her to

want to live. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going

to get well. Has she anything on her mind?



5 "She -- she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day," said Sue. “她――她想有一天能去画那不勒斯湾,”苏说。

6 "Paint? -- bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking about twice

-- a man, for instance?"


7 "A man?" said Sue. "Is a man worth -- but, no, doctor; there is nothing

of the kind."



8 "Well," said the doctor. "I will do all that science can accomplish.

But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines."

After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried. Then she marched into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling a merry tune.


9 Johnsy lay, scarcely making a movement under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. She was looking out and counting -- counting backward.


10 "Twelve," she said, and a little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven," almost together.


11 Sue looked out of the window. What was there to count? There was only

a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had blown away its leaves, leaving it almost bare.


12 "Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left



13 "Five what, dear? "


14 "Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?"


15 "Oh, I never heard of such nonsense. What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? Don't be so silly. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were ten to one! Try to take some soup now, and let Sudie go and buy port wine for her sick child."


16 "You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another. No, I don't want any soup. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves."

“你不用再去买酒了,”约翰西说道,两眼一直盯着窗外。“又掉了一片。不,我不想喝汤。这一下只剩下4片了。我要在天黑前看到最后一片叶子掉落。那时我也就跟着走了。我都等腻了。也想腻了。我只想撇开一切, 飘然而去,就像那边一片可怜的疲倦的叶子。”

17 "Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old miner. I'll not be gone a minute."


18 Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a long white beard curling down over his chest. Despite looking the part, Behrman was a failure in art. For forty years he had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who mocked terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as guard dog to the two young artists in the studio above.


19 Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of gin in his dimly lighted studio

below. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker. Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt for such foolish imaginings.


20 "What!" he cried. "Are there people in the world foolish enough to die because leafs drop off from a vine? I have never heard of such a thing. Why do you allow such silly ideas to come into that head of hers? God! This is not a place in which one so good as Miss Johnsy should lie sick. Some day I will paint a masterpiece, and we shall all go away. Yes."


21 Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down, and motioned Behrman into the other room. In there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a moment without

speaking. A persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with snow. Behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his seat as the miner on an upturned kettle for a rock.

两人上了楼,约翰西已经睡着了。苏放下窗帘,示意贝尔曼去另一个房间。在那儿两人惶惶不安地凝视着窗外的常青藤。接着两人面面相觑,哑然无语。外面冷雨夹雪,淅淅沥沥。贝尔曼穿着破旧的蓝色衬衣, 坐在充当矿石的倒置的水壶上,摆出矿工的架势。

22 When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade.


23 "Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in a whisper.


24 Wearily Sue obeyed.


25 But, Lo! after the beating rain and fierce wind that had endured through the night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, but with its edges colored yellow, it hung bravely from a branch some twenty feet above the ground.


26 "It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall today, and I shall die at the same time."


27 The day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to its stem against the wall. And then, with the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed.


28 When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised.


29 The ivy leaf was still there.


30 Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was stirring her chicken soup over the gas stove.


31 "I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to want to die. You may bring me a little soup now, and some milk with a little port in it and -- no; bring me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows

about me, and I will sit up and watch you cook."


32 An hour later she said:


33 "Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."


34 The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left.


35 "Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's thin, shaking hand in his.


36 "With good nursing you'll win. And now I must see another case I have downstairs. Behrman, his name is -- some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital today to be made more comfortable."


37 The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You've won. The right food and care now -- that's all."


38 And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay and put one arm around her.


39 "I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia today in the hospital. He was ill only two days. He was found on the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a terrible night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colors mixed on it, and -- look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece -- he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."



He did not trust the woman to trust him. And he did not trust the woman not to trust him. And he did not want to be mistrusted now.


unit 7 Life of a Salesman

Making a living as a door-to-door salesman demands a thick skin, both to protect against the weather and against constantly having the door shut in your face. Bill Porter puts up with all this and much, much more.


Life of a Salesman

Tom Hallman Jr.

1 The alarm rings. It's 5:45. He could linger under the covers, listening to the radio and a weatherman who predicts rain. People would understand. He knows that.




2 A surgeon's scar cuts across his lower back. The fingers on his right

hand are so twisted that he can't tie his shoes. Some days, he feels like surrendering. But his dead mother's challenge echoes in his soul. So, too, do the voices of those who believed him stupid, incapable of living independently. All his life he's struggled to prove them wrong. He will not quit.

3 And so Bill Porter rises.

他的下背有一道手术疤痕。他右手的手指严重扭曲,连鞋带都没法系。有时,他真想放弃不干了。可在他内心深处,一直回响着已故老母的激励, 还有那些说他蠢,说他不能独立生活的人的声音。他一生都在拚命去证明他们错了。他决不能放弃不干。


4 He takes the first unsteady steps on a journey to Portland's streets, the battlefield where he fights alone for his independence and dignity. He's a door-to-door salesman. Sixty-three years old. And his enemies -- a crippled body that betrays him and a changing world that no longer needs him -- are gaining on him.


5 With trembling hands he assembles his weapons: dark slacks, blue shirt and matching jacket, brown tie, tan raincoat and hat. Image, he believes, is everything.


6 He stops in the entryway, picks up his briefcase and steps outside.

A fall wind has kicked up. The weatherman was right. He pulls his raincoat tighter.

7 He tilts his hat just so. 他在门口停了一下,提起公文包,走了出去。秋风骤起,冷飕飕的。天气预报员说得没错。他将雨衣裹裹紧。


8 On the 7:45 bus that stops across the street, he leaves his briefcase next to the driver and finds a seat in the middle of a pack of bored teenagers.


9 He leans forward, stares toward the driver, sits back, then repeats the process. His nervousness makes him laugh uncontrollably. The teenagers stare at him. They don't realize Porter's afraid someone will steal his briefcase, with the glasses, brochures, order forms and clip-on tie that he needs to survive.


10 Porter senses the stares. He looks at the floor.


11 His face reveals nothing. In his heart, though, he knows he should have been like these kids, like everyone on this bus. He's not angry. But he knows. His mother explained how the delivery had been difficult, how the doctor had used an instrument that crushed a section of his brain and caused cerebral palsy, a disorder of the nervous system that affects his speech, hands and walk.


12 Porter came to Portland when he was 13 after his father, a salesman, was transferred here. He attended a school for the disabled and then Lincoln High School, where he was placed in a class for slow kids.


13 But he wasn't slow.


14 His mind was trapped in a body that didn't work. Speaking was difficult and took time. People were impatient and didn't listen. He felt different -- was different -- from the kids who rushed about in the halls and planned dances he would never attend.



15 What could his future be? Porter wanted to do something and his mother was certain that he could rise above his limitations. With her encouragement, he applied for a job with the Fuller Brush Co. only to be turned down. He couldn't carry a product briefcase or walk a route, they said.


16 Porter knew he wanted to be a salesman. He began reading help wanted ads in the newspaper. When he saw one for Watkins, a company that sold household products door-to-door, his mother set up a meeting with a representative. The man said no, but Porter wouldn't listen. He just wanted a chance. The man gave in and offered Porter a section of the city that no salesman wanted.


17 It took Porter four false starts before he found the courage to ring the first doorbell. The man who answered told him to go away, a pattern repeated throughout the day.


18 That night Porter read through company literature and discovered the products were guaranteed. He would sell that pledge. He just needed people to listen.


19 If a customer turned him down, Porter kept coming back until they heard him. And he sold.


20 For several years he was Watkins' top retail salesman. Now he is the only one of the company's 44,000 salespeople who sells door-to-door.


21 The bus stops in the Transit Mall, and Porter gets off.


22 His body is not made for walking. Each step strains his joints. Headaches are constant visitors. His right arm is nearly useless. He can't fully control the limb. His body tilts at the waist; he seems to be heading into a strong, steady wind that keeps him off balance. At times, he looks like a toddler taking his first steps.



23 He walks 10 miles a day.


24 His first stop today, like every day, is a shoeshine stand where employees tie his laces. Twice a week he pays for a shine. At a nearby hotel one of the doormen buttons Porter's top shirt button and slips on his clip-on tie. He then walks to another bus that drops him off a mile from his territory.


25 He left home nearly three hours ago.


26 The wind is cold and raindrops fall. Porter stops at the first house. This is the moment he's been preparing for since 5:45 a.m. He rings the bell.


27 A woman comes to the door.


28 "Hello."

29 "No, thank you, I'm just preparing to leave."

30 Porter nods.

31 "May I come back later?" he asks.

32 "No," says the woman.

33 She shuts the door.

34 Porter's eyes reveal nothing.

35 He moves to the next house.

36 The door opens.

37 Then closes.











38 He doesn't get a chance to speak. Porter's expression never changes. He stops at every home in his territory. People might not buy now. Next time. Maybe. No doesn't mean never. Some of his best customers are people who repeatedly turned him down before buying.


39 He makes his way down the street.

40 "I don't want to try it."

41 "Maybe next time."

42 "I'm sorry. I'm on the phone right now."

43 "No."






44 Ninety minutes later, Porter still has not made a sale. But there is always another home.

45 He walks on.

46 He knocks on a door. A woman appears from the backyard where she's gardening. She often buys, but not today, she says, as she walks away.

47 "Are you sure?" Porter asks.

48 She pauses.

49 "Well..."






  • 大学英语课文翻译

  • 大学英语综合教程课文

  • 大学英语综合教程

  • 新版大学英语综合教程

  • 大学英语综合教程答案

  • 综合英语课文翻译