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?
约翰西病情严重，她似乎失去了活下去的意志。医生对她不抱什么希望。朋友们看来也爱莫能助。难道真的就无可奈何了吗？
1 At the top of a three-story brick building, Sue and Johnsy had their studio. \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. 在一幢三层砖楼的顶层，苏和约翰西辟了个画室。“约翰西”是乔安娜的昵称。她们一位来自缅因州，一位来自加利福尼亚。两人相遇在第八大街的一个咖啡馆，发现各自在艺术品味、菊苣色拉，以及灯笼袖等方面趣味相投，于是就有了这个两人画室。
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.
那是5月里的事。到了11月，一个医生称之为肺炎的阴森的隐形客闯入了这一地区，用它冰冷的手指东碰西触。约翰西也为其所害。她病倒了，躺在床上几乎一动不动，只能隔着小窗望着隔壁砖房那单调沉闷的侧墙。 3 One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a bushy, gray eyebrow. 一天上午，忙碌的医生扬了扬灰白的浓眉，示意苏来到过道。
4 \mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind? “她只有一成希望，”他说。“那还得看她自己是不是想活下去。你这位女朋友已经下决心不想好了。她有什么心事吗？”
5 \ “她――她想有一天能去画那不勒斯湾，”苏说。
6 \ “画画？――得了。她有没有别的事值得她留恋的――比如说，一个男人？” 7 \ “男人？”苏说。“难道一个男人就值得――可是，她没有啊，大夫，没有这码子事。”
8 \carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines.\gone Sue went into the workroom and cried. Then she marched into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling a merry tune. “好吧，”大夫说。“我会尽一切努力，只要是科学能做到的。可是，但凡病人开始计算她出殡的行列里有几辆马车的时候，我就要把医药的疗效减去一半。”大夫走后，苏去工作室哭了一场。随后她携着画板大步走进约翰西的房间，口里吹着轻快的口哨。
9 Johnsy lay, scarcely making a movement under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. She was looking out and counting -- counting backward.
约翰西躺在被子下几乎一动不动，脸朝着窗。她望着窗外，数着数――倒数着数！
10 \together. “12，”她数道，过了一会儿“11”，接着数“10”和“9”；再数“8”和“7”，几乎一口同时数下来。 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.
苏朝窗外望去。外面有什么好数的呢？外面只看到一个空荡荡的沉闷的院子，还有20英尺开外那砖房的侧墙，上面什么也没有。一棵古老的常青藤爬到半墙高。萧瑟秋风吹落了枝叶，藤上几乎光秃秃的。
12 \It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now.\ “6”，约翰西数着，声音几乎听不出来。“现在叶子掉落得快多了。三天前差不多还有100片。数得我头都疼。可现在容易了。又掉了一片。这下子只剩5片了。” 13 \
“5片什么，亲爱的？”
14 \tell you?\
“叶子。常青藤上的叶子。等最后一片叶子掉了，我也就得走了。三天前我就知道会这样。大夫没跟你说吗？”
15 \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.\
“噢，我从没听说过这种胡说八道。常青藤叶子跟你病好不好有什么关系？别这么傻。对了，大夫上午跟我说，你的病十有八九就快好了。快喝些汤，让苏迪给她生病的孩子去买些波尔图葡萄酒来。”
16 \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 \ “快睡吧，”苏说。“我得叫贝尔曼上楼来给我当老矿工模特儿。我去去就来。”
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.
老贝尔曼是住在两人楼下底层的一个画家。他已年过六旬，银白色蜷曲的长髯披挂胸前。贝尔曼看上去挺像艺术家，但在艺术上却没有什么成就。40年来他一直想创作一幅传世之作，却始终没能动手。他给那些请不起职业模特的青年画家当模特挣点小钱。他没节制地喝酒，谈论着他那即将问世的不朽之作。要说其他方面，他是个好斗的小老头，要是谁表现出一点软弱，他便大肆嘲笑，并把自己看成是楼上画室里两位年轻艺术家的看护人。
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.
苏在楼下光线暗淡的画室里找到了贝尔曼，他满身酒味刺鼻。屋子一角的画架上支着一张从未落过笔的画布，在那儿搁了25年，等着一幅杰作的起笔。苏把约翰西的怪念头跟他说了，并说约翰西本身就像一片叶子又瘦又弱，她害怕要是她那本已脆弱的生存意志再软下去的话，真的会凋零飘落。老贝尔曼双眼通红，显然是泪涟涟的，他大声叫嚷着说他蔑视这种傻念头。
20 \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.\ “什么！”他嚷道。“世界上竟然有这么愚蠢的人，因为树叶从藤上掉落就要去死？我听都没听说过这等事。你怎么让这种傻念头钻到她那个怪脑袋里？天哪！这不是一个像约翰西小姐这样的好姑娘躺倒生病的地方。有朝一日我要画一幅巨作，那时候我们就离开这里。真的。”
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.
第二天早上，只睡了一个小时的苏醒来看到约翰西睁大着无神的双眼，凝望着拉下的绿色窗帘。 23 \ “把窗帘拉起来；我要看，”她低声命令道。 24 Wearily Sue obeyed.
苏带着疲倦，遵命拉起窗帘。
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.
可是，瞧！经过一整夜的急风骤雨，竟然还存留一片常青藤叶，背靠砖墙，格外显目。这是常青藤上的最后一片叶子。近梗部位仍呈暗绿色，但边缘已经泛黄了，它无所畏惧地挂在离地20多英尺高的枝干上。
26 \and I shall die at the same time.\ “这是最后一片叶子，”约翰西说。“我以为夜里它肯定会掉落的。我晚上听到大风呼啸。今天它会掉落的，叶子掉的时候，也是我死的时候。”
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.
白天慢慢过去了，即便在暮色黄昏之中，他们仍能看到那片孤零零的常青藤叶子，背靠砖墙，紧紧抱住梗茎。尔后，随着夜幕的降临，又是北风大作。
28 When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised. 等天色亮起，冷酷无情的约翰西命令将窗帘拉起。 29 The ivy leaf was still there. 常青藤叶依然挺在。
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.
约翰西躺在那儿，望着它许久许久。接着她大声呼唤正在煤气灶上搅鸡汤的苏。
31 \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.\ “我一直像个不乖的孩子，苏迪，”约翰西说。“有一种力量让那最后一片叶子不掉，好让我看到自己有多坏。想死是一种罪过。你给我喝点汤吧，再来点牛奶，稍放一点波尔图葡萄酒――不，先给我拿面小镜子来，弄几个枕头垫在我身边，我要坐起来看你做菜。” 32 An hour later she said: 一个小时之后，她说：
33 \ “苏迪，我真想有一天去画那不勒斯海湾。”
34 The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left. 下午大夫来了，他走时苏找了个借口跟进了过道。
35 \ “现在是势均力敌，”大夫说着，握了握苏纤细颤抖的手。
36 \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.\
“只要精心照料，你就赢了。现在我得去楼下看另外一个病人了。贝尔曼，是他的名字――记得是个什么画家。也是肺炎。他年老体弱，病来势又猛。他是没救了。不过今天他去了医院，照料得会好一点。”
37 The next day the doctor said to Sue: \ 第二天，大夫对苏说：“她脱离危险了。你赢了。注意饮食，好好照顾，就行了。” 38 And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay and put one arm around her. 当日下午，苏来到约翰西的床头，用一只手臂搂住她。
39 \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.\ “我跟你说件事，小白鼠，”她说。“贝尔曼先生今天在医院里得肺炎去世了。他得病才两天。发病那天上午人家在楼下他的房间里发现他疼得利害。他的鞋子衣服都湿透了，冰冷冰冷的。他们想不出那么糟糕的天气他夜里会去哪儿。后来他们发现了一个灯笼，还亮着，还有一个梯子被拖了出来，另外还有些散落的画笔，一个调色板，和着黄绿两种颜色，――看看窗外，宝贝儿，看看墙上那最后一片常青藤叶子。它在刮风的时候一动也不动，你没有觉得奇怪吗？啊，亲爱的，那是贝尔曼的杰作――最后一片叶子掉落的那天夜里他画上了这片叶子。” 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.
他不敢相信这个女人居然会信任自己。他也不认为这个女人就不信任自己。不过，现在他不想失去别人对自己的信任。
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. 干挨家挨户上门推销这一营生得脸皮厚，这是因为干这一行不仅要经受风吹日晒，还要承受一次又一次的闭门羹。比尔 · 波特忍受着这一切，以及别的种种折磨。 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. 一个推销员的生活 小汤姆 · 霍尔曼
闹钟响了。是清晨5：45。他可以在被子里再躺一会儿，听听无线电广播。天气预报员预报有雨。人们会理解的。这点他清楚。
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。 于是比尔·波特起身了。
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. 他摇摇晃晃迈出了去波特兰大街的头几步，波特兰大街是他为独立与尊严而孤身搏杀的战场。他是个挨家挨户上门推销的推销员，今年63岁。他的敌人――辜负他的残疾的身体和一个不再需要他的变化着的世界――正一步一步把他逼向绝境。
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.
他用颤抖的双手收拾行装：深色宽松裤，蓝衬衣和与之相配的茄克衫，褐色领带，土褐色雨衣和帽子。在他看来，形象就是一切。
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。 他把帽子往一侧微微一斜。
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.
在街对面停靠的7：45那班公共汽车上，他把公文包放在司机身旁，在一群没精打采的十几岁的孩子当中找了个位子坐下。
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.
他身子往前一倾，盯着司机那儿望，然后靠着椅背坐下，接着他又反复这个过程。他心情紧张，控制不住自己而笑出声来。那些孩子望着他。他们不明白，波特是担心有人偷他的包，包里有他生存不可缺少的眼镜，宣传小册子，定单，以及可用别针别上的领带。 10 Porter senses the stares. He looks at the floor.
波特意识到了小孩子在盯着他看。他把目光转向车厢地板。
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.
他脸上没有流露出任何神情。但在他心里，他知道自己本该和这些孩子一样，和车上其他所有人一样。他并不生气。但他心里明白。他母亲解释说生他时难产，医生使用了某种器械，损坏了他大脑的一部分，导致了大脑性麻痹，一种影响他说话，手部活动以及行走的神经系统的紊乱。
12 Porter came to Portland when he was 13 after his father, a salesman, was transferred here. He attended a school