Unit 3 A Hanging 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.

he said irritably.

4.

Francis,

the

head

jailer,

a

fat

Dravidian

in

a

white

drill

suit

and

gold

spectacles,

waved

his

black

hand.

sir,

yes sir,

he

bubbled.

is satisfactorily

prepared.

The

hangman is waiting. We shall proceed.

5.

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

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!

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.

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.

gallows,

and

blew

out

a

deep

breath.

The

moody

look

had

gone

out

of

his

face

quite

suddenly. He glanced at his wrist watch.

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

of

the

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

ladling

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,

with a

knowing smile,

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,

sir,

all

has

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.

20.

sir,

it is

worse

when

they

become

refractory!

One

man,

I

recall,

clung

to

the

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

the

superintendent grinned in

a

tolerant

way.

all

come

and

have a

drink,

he

said quite genially.

22.

We

went

through

the

big

double

gates

of

the

prison

into

the

road.

at

his

legs!

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