幸运的套鞋(三)_幸运的套鞋

　　The English pirates had taken ships from the very wharves, said the man; and the councillor, who was well acquainted with the events of 1801, joined in manfully against the English. The rest of the talk, however, did not pass over so well; every moment there was a contradiction. The good bachelor was terribly ignorant, and the simplest assertion of the councillor seemed too bold or too fantastic. They looked at each other, and when it became too bad, the bachelor spoke Latin, in the hope that he would be better understood; but it was of no use.
　　"How are you now?" asked the hostess, and she plucked the councillor by the sleeve.
　　Now his recollection came back; in the course of the conversation he had forgotten everything that had happened.
　　"Good heavens! Where am I?" he said, and he felt dizzy when he thought of it.
　　"We"ll drink claret, mead, and Bremen beer, "cried one of the guests, "and you shall drink with us."
　　Two girls came in. One of them had on a cap of two colours. They poured out drink and bowed: the councillor felt a cold shudder running all down his back. "What"s that? What"s that?" he cried; but he was obliged to drink with them. They took possession of the good man quite politely. He was in despair, and when one said that he was tipsy he felt not the slightest doubt regarding the truth of the statement, and only begged them to procure him a droshky. Now they thought he was speaking Muscovite.
　　Never had he been in such rude vulgar company.
　　"One would think the country was falling back into heathenism," was his reflection. "This is the most terrible moment of my life."
　　But at the same time the idea occurred to him to bend down under the table, and then to creep to the door. He did so; but just as he had reached the entry the others discovered his intention. They seized him by the feet; and now the goloshes, to his great good fortune, came off, and--the whole enchantment vanished.
　　The councillor saw quite plainly, in front of him, a lamp burning, and behind it a great building; everything looked familiar and splendid. It was East Street, as we know it now.He lay with his legs turned towards a porch, and opposite to him sat the watchman asleep.
　　"Good heavens! Have I been lying here in the street dreaming?" he exclaimed.
　　"Yes, this is East Street sure enough!How splendidly bright and gay! It is terrible what an effect that one glass of punch must have had on me!"
　　Two minutes afterwards he was sitting in a fly, which drove him out to Christian"s Haven. He thought of the terror and anxiety he had undergone, and praised from his heart the happy present, our own time, which, with all its shortcomings, was far better than the period in which he had been placed a short time before.
　　 Ⅲ THE WATCHMAN"S ADVENTURES
　　"On my word, yonder lies a pair o" goloshes!" said the watchman. "They must certainly belong to the lieutenant who lives upstairs. They are lying close to the door."
　　The honest man would gladly have rung the bell and delivered them, for upstairs there was a light still burning; but he did not wish to disturb the other people in the house, and so he let it alone.
　　"It must be very warm to have a pair of such things on," said he. "How nice and soft the leather is!" They fitted his feet very well. "How droll it is in the world! Now, he might lie down in his warm bed, and yet he does not! There he is pacing up and down the room. He is a happy man! He has neither wife nor children, and every evening he is at a party. Oh, I wish I were he, then I should be a happy man!"
　　As he uttered the wish, the goloshes he had put on produced their effect, and the watchman was transported into the body and being of the lieutenant. Then he stood up in the room, and held a little pink paper in his fingers, on which was a poem, a poem written by the lieutenant himself. For who is there who has not once in his life had a poetic moment? And at such a moment, if one writes down one"s thoughts, there is poetry.
　　Yes, people write poetry when they are in love; but a prudent man does not print such poems. The lieutenant was in love--and poor--that"s a triangle, or, so to speak, the half of a broken square of happiness. The lieutenant felt that very keenly, and so he laid his head against the window-frame and sighed a deep sigh.
　　"The poor watchman in the street yonder is far happier than I. He does not know what I call want. He has a home, a wife, and children, who weep at his sorrow and rejoice at his joy. Oh! I should be happier than I am, if I could pass right over into him, for he is happier than I!"
　　In that same moment the watchman became a watchman again; for though the power of the goloshes of Fortune he had assumed the personality of the lieutenant; but then we know he felt far less content, and preferred to be what he really was. So the watchman became a watchman again.
　　"That was all ugly dream, "said he, "but droll enough. It seemed to me that I was the lieutenant up yonder, and that it was not pleasant at all. I missed the wife and the boys, who are now ready to half stifle me with kisses."
　　He sat down again and nodded. The dream would not go quite out of his thoughts. He had the goloshes still on his feet. A falling star glided down the sky.
　　"There went one," said he, "but for all that, there are enough left. I should like to look at those things a little nearer, especially the moon, for that won"t vanish under one"s hands. The student for whom my wife washes says that when we die we fly from one star to another. That"s not true, but it would be very nice. If I could only make a little spring up there, then my body might lie here on the stairs for all I care."
　　Now there are certain things we should be very cautious of uttering in this world, but doubly careful when we have goloshes of Fortune on our feet. Just hear what happened to the watchman.
　　So far as we are concerned, we all understand the rapidity of dispatch by steam; we have tried it either in railways, or in steamers across the sea. But this speed is as the crawling of the sloth or the march of the snail in comparison with the swiftness with which light travels. That flies nineteen million times quicker than the best racer, and yet electricity is still quicker. Death is an electric shock we receive in our hearts, and on the wings of electricity the liberated soul flies away.
　　The sunlight requires eight minutes and a few seconds for a journey of more than ninety-five millions of miles; on the wings of electric power the soul requires only a few moments to accomplish the same flight. The space between the orbs of the universe is, for her, not greater than, for us,the distances between the houses of our friends dwelling in the same town and even living close together. Yet this electric shock costs us the life of the body here below, unless, like thewatchman,we have the magic goloshes on.
　　In a few seconds the watchman had traversed the distance of two hundred and sixty thousand miles to the moon, which body, as we know, consists of a much lighter material than that of our earth, and is, as we should say, soft as new-fallen snow. He found himself on one of the many ring mountains with which we are familiar from Dr. Madler"s great map of the moon. Within the ring a great bowl-shaped hollow went down to the depth of a couple of miles. At the base of the hollow lay a town, of whose appearance we can only form an idea by pouring the white of an egg, into a glass of water; the substance here was just as soft as white of egg, and formed similar towers, and cupolas, and terraces like sails, transparent and floating in the thin air. Our earth hung over his head like a great fiery red ball.
　　He immediately became aware of a number of beings, who were certainly what we call "men", but their appearance was very different from ours. They had also a language, but no one could expect that the soul of the watchman should understand it. But it did understand, nevertheless.
　　Thus the watchman"s soul understood the language of the people in the moon very well. They disputed about this earth, and doubted if it could be inhabited; the air, they asserted, must be too thick for a sensible moon-man to live there. They considered that the moon alone was peopled; for that, they said, was the real body in which the old-world people dwelt. [They also talked of politics].
　　But let us go down to the East Street, and see how it fared with the body of the watchman.
　　He sat lifeless upon the stairs.
　　His pike had fallen out of his hand, and his eyes stared up at the moon, after his honest soul which was going about up there.
　　"What"s o"clock, watchman?" asked a passer-by. But the man who didn"t answer was the watchman. Then the passenger tweaked him quite gently by the nose, and then he lost his balance. There lay the body stretched out at full length--the man was dead. Great fear fell upon the man who had tweaked him; dead the watchman was, and dead he remained. It was reported, and it was discussed, and in the morning the body was carried out to the hospital.
　　That would be a pretty jest for the soul if it should chance to come back, and probably seek its body in the East Street, and not find it! Most likely it would go first, to the police and afterwards to the address office, that inquiries might be made from thence respecting the missing goods; and then it would wander out to the hospital. But we may console ourselves with the idea that the soul is most clever when it acts upon its own account; it is the body that makes it stupid.
　　As we have said, the watchman"s body was taken to the hospital, and brought into the washing-room; and naturally enough the first thing they did there was to pull off the goloshes; and then the soul had to come back. It took its way directly towards the body, and in a few seconds there was life in the man. He declared that this had been the most terrible night of his life; he would not have such feelings again, not for a shilling; but now it was past and over.
　　The same day he was allowed to leave; but the goloshes remained at the hospital.
　　(tobecontinued)
　　
　　那个人说，英国的海盗从码头里将船抢走了。但议员呢，对1801年的战争记得很清楚，也义愤填膺地加入谈话，攻击英国。然而，其他的谈话就没那么顺利了，每时每刻都出现矛盾。那个好心的学士似乎特别无知，议员最简单的判断都让他觉得太鲁莽、太理想化了。他们对视着。在最糟糕的时候，学士还说拉丁语，好让自己的意思得到更确切的理解，但这也无济于事。
　　“你现在感觉怎么样?”老板娘问。他拉了拉议员的袖子。
　　现在他又想起自己的事儿。在谈话过程中，他把自己遭遇的事全给忘了。
　　“天哪!我这是在哪儿呀?”他说。他一想到这事，心里就犯糊涂。
　　“我们来喝点葡萄酒、蜜酒和布莱门啤酒，”一个客人说，“你可以和我们―起喝点。”
　　两个姑娘走了进来，其中一个戴了顶双色帽。她们倒了饮料，躬身递了过来。议员背上打了个冷战。“怎么回事?这是怎么了?”他大叫起来。但他还是被迫和大家一起喝酒。他们对这位不速之客很有礼貌。但他却陷入了绝望之中，一个人说他是喝醉了，他一点也不怀疑，只是请求他们借给他―辆俄国式马车。这时，大家又以为他说的是莫斯科的地方话。
　　他可从来没有和这样一群粗鲁无知的人为伍。
　　“真让人觉得这个国家退回到野蛮时期了，”他想，“这是我生活中最糟糕的时刻。”
　　就在这时，他突然来了个主意，想钻进桌子底下，好偷偷地爬到门口。他就这么干了。但他刚爬到门口，别人就发现了他的意图，他们抓住他的脚。真是谢天谢地，这回套鞋总算是脱掉了――所有的幻像都消失了。
　　议员清楚地看到，他面前是一盏明亮的灯。灯后面是一个高大的建筑，所有东西看起来都是那么熟悉，那么美好。我们知道，这儿就是东大街。他冲着一扇门躺着，守夜人在他对面坐着打盹。
　　“天哪!难道我这是躺在大街上做梦吗?”他大叫道。
　　“没错，这确实是东大街!多么辉煌，多么快乐呀!真是太可怕了，那杯酒把我折腾成这个样子。”
　　两分钟后，他坐进了一辆马车，直奔克里斯蒂安码头。他回想起自己遭遇的可怕、烦恼的场景，从内心深处称赞我们当代，我们自己生活的这个时代。尽管这个时代有很多不如人意的地方，但比起自己刚才经历过的时代，确实要好多了。
　　3守夜人的经历
　　“噢，那儿有双套鞋!”守夜人说，“那肯定是住在楼上的中尉的，因为套鞋就在那个门旁边。”
　　这个老实人很想去按门铃，把鞋送过去，因为楼上的灯还亮着。但他又不想打扰屋里的其他人，所以他就放弃了这个想法。
　　“穿上这种鞋一定会很暖和吧，”他说，“皮子质地多好，多么柔软呀!”他穿上也正好合脚。“这种生活真是奇怪了!现在，他本可以躺在温暖的床上，但他却没这么做，而是楼上楼下地走动!他可真是个快活的人!他没有妻子，没有孩子，每天晚上都去参加晚会。噢，我要是他就好了，那样我也就成了个快乐的人啦!”
　　他说出这个愿望，他脚上的套鞋就产生了魔力，守夜人身心方面都变得和那个中尉一模一样。于是他站在了那个房间里，手指捏着一个粉红色的纸片，上面写着一首诗，是中尉本人写的。谁在一生中没有体验过诗意的瞬间呢?在这种时候，只要把自己的想法写下来，那就是一首诗。
　　确实，人们在热恋中会写诗，但一个聪明人是不会把这种诗公开出版的。中尉正在恋爱中，而且是可怜的三角恋，或者说，幸福四边形的一半破碎了。中尉深切地体验到这种痛苦，所以将头搭在窗棂上，深深地叹了口气。
　　“大街上那个可怜的守夜人都比我要快乐。他不知道我的‘贫困’是什么。他有家，有老婆，有孩子，他们和他同甘共苦。唉!要是我变成他，我倒会更快乐一些，因为他比我要幸福!”
　　这时，守夜人又变回来了。由于套鞋的魔力，他变成了中尉。但我们知道，变成中尉后，他觉得很不满意，又想回到自己原来的生活中来。于是他就又变成守夜人了。
　　“这真是个恶梦，”他说，“不过也挺好玩的。好像我变成了楼上的中尉，而且一点也不舒服。我想自己的老婆和孩子们了，他们正等着把我亲个半死呢!”
　　他又坐下来，点了点头。梦还没有完全从他的思想里消失，他还穿着那双套鞋呢。这时，一颗流星划过夜空。
　　“那儿有颗流星，”他说，“尽管落下了一个，天空上还多着呢。我想靠近一点去瞧瞧，特别是想看看月亮，因为他可不会从一个人手里溜走的。雇我老婆洗衣服的那个学生说，我们死后，就会从一颗星飞到另一颗星。这可不是真的，要是能那样当然好啦。要是我能被发射到那上面去，那我现在躺在楼梯上也无所谓啦。”
　　在这个世界上，我们说某些话的时候可得非常谨慎。但要是穿上了幸运套鞋，就更该加倍小心了。听听守夜人发生了怎样的事情吧。
　　对我们来说，可以理解被蒸气推进的速度。我在铁路交通和蒸汽船渡海方面做了尝试。但与光的高速比起来，这只能算是树獭的爬行或是蜗牛的蠕动罢了。光速比最好的赛马还要快1900万倍，电的速度还要更快。死亡就是我们的心脏触了电，在电的翅膀上，自己的灵魂远飞他乡。
　　阳光用8分钟零几秒的时间，就能走9500万英里的路程。坐在电力的翅膀上，灵魂只要几秒钟就能飞同样远的路程。对于灵魂来说，行星之间的距离，就和我们住在同一城市的朋友一样，甚至近得就像邻居。不过这种电击会要我们命的，除非像那个守夜人一样，穿上魔力套鞋。
　　只几秒钟的时间，守夜人就飞过26万英里的路程，来到月亮上。我们知道，月球的成分比地球要轻得多，可以说柔软得像新下的雪一样。他发现自己置身于一座环形山上，看过麦特勒博士的大月球图就会熟悉这个情况。在这个环形山中间，一个碗形的大洞有好几英里深。在这个洞底，有一座城市，看起来就像是倒在一杯水中的蛋清一样。这里的东西都软得像蛋清，它们组成了相似的尖塔、圆屋顶和像船帆一样的阳台，都浮在透明、稀薄的空气中。我们的地球悬在他的头顶上，就像一个巨大的红火球。
　　他马上注意到了一些生物，我们当然得管他们叫“人”，但他们看起来和我们可大不一样。他们也有自己的语言，不过谁也不能指望守夜人的灵魂能够听得懂。然而，守夜人的灵魂居然听明白了。
　　守夜人的灵魂对月球上人的语言非常精通。他们争论起关于地球的问题，怀疑地球是否适合居住。他们确信，地球上的空气太厚重了，月球人肯定受不了。他们认为只有月亮上住着人类，还说人类自古就住在那里。(他们也讨论政治。)
　　但还是让我们回到东大街吧，看看守夜人的肉身怎样了。
　　他坐在楼梯上，没有生气。
　　他的尖头杖从手中滑落了，他的双眼盯着月亮，顺着他诚实的灵魂游荡的地方。
　　“几点了，守夜人?”一个过路人问道。但守夜人没有吱声。于是那个过路人轻轻地挠他的鼻子，他失去了平衡，直挺挺地躺在那儿――他死了。那个挠他的人大为震惊。守夜人死了，僵挺在那里。这事被报告上去，人们讨论了一番。第二天一早，守夜人被送进了医院。
　　灵魂要是再回来的话，那一定会闹笑话。它很可能会在东大街找自己的躯体，但它却找不到!它很可能首先去警察署，然后再到户籍处去挂失。然后它可能会漫游到医院。但我们可以放心，灵魂在处理自己的事情时是最聪明的，是身体把灵魂搞得愚蠢了。
　　就像我们前面提到的，守夜人的躯体被抬进医院，送进了洗涤间。他们要做的第一件事，当然是脱掉那双套鞋，于是灵魂又回来了。它直接钻进了躯体，几秒钟后守夜人就活了过来。他说自己经历了一生中最可怕的夜晚。他再不愿重复这种经历了，哪怕给他一块钱他也不干。好在现在一切都已成为过去。
　　当天他就获准离开医院。但套鞋留在了医院里。（未完待续）