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.

hurry

up,

Francis,

he

said

irritably.

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.

sir,

yes

sir,

he

bubbled.

is

satisfactorily prepared. The hangman is waiting. We shall proceed.

5.

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!

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,

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.

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.

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 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,

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,

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.

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.

better

all

come

and

have

a

drink,

he said quite genially.

it.

22. We went through the big double gates of the prison into the road.

his

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.