送行Seeing People off（1/2）

麦克斯·毕尔勃姆/ Max Beerboh

麦克斯·毕尔勃姆（1872—1956），英国著名讽刺画家、散文家和剧评家。曾就读于牛津大学。除擅长绘画外，他还写过不少散文，并取得了较高的成就。后来继萧伯纳任《星期六评论》剧评专栏作者达十二年之久，晚年移居美国直到去世。

Acethe Hole

Uand these new words before you read this article.

1. nguish [l??ɡwi?] v. 失去活力

2. prophecy [pr?fisi] n. 预言

3. agic [?ɡik] adj. 地磁的；有磁性的

4. nfess [k?nfes] v. 承认

I a not good at it. To do it well sees toone of the ost difficult thgsthe world, and probably sees so to you, too.

To see a friend off fro Waterloo to Vauxhall were easy enough. But we are never called on to perfor that sall feat. It is only when a friend is gog on a longish journey, and will be absent for a nguish ti, that we turn up at the railway station. The dearer the friend and the lohe journey, and the lohe likely absent ratio to the serioness of the oasion, and to the depth of our feelg.

In a roo, or even on a doorstep, we es the genue sorrow we feel. Nor do words fail . There is no awkwardness, rat, oher side. The thread of our tiacy has not been she leave-takg is an ideal one. Why not, then, leave the leave-takg at that? Always, departg friends iplorenot to bother to e to the railway statio . Always, we are deaf to these eies, knog the to be not quite scere. The departg friends would thk it very odd ofif we took the at their word. Besides, they really do want to seeaga. And that wish is heartily reciprocated. We duly turn up. And then, oh then, what a gulf yawns! We stretch our ars valy across it. We have utterly lost touch. We have nothg at all to say. We gaze at each other as dub anials gaze at huan begs. We“ake ion”—and suversation! We know that these friends are the friends fro who we parted ht. They know that we have not altered. Yet, on the surface, everythg is different; and the tension is such that we only long for the guard to blow his whistle and put ao the farce.

On a ld greyof st week I duly turned up at Eton, to see off an old friend who was startg for Arica.

ht, we had given hi a farewell dner,which sadness was well gled with festivity. Years probably would epse before his return. So ofight never see hi aga. Not ign the shadow of the future, we gaily celebrated the past. We were as thankful to have know as we were grieved to lose hi; and both these eotions were ade a. It erfect farewell.

And now, here we were, stiff and self-nscio ofor; and fradthe dow of the railway-carriage was the face of our friend; but it was as the face of a stranger—a stranger anxio to please, an appealg stranger, an awkward stranger.“Have you got everythg?”asked one of , breakg a silence.“Yes, everythg,”aid our friend, with a pleasant nod.“Everythg,”he repeated, with the ephasis of ay bra.“You’ll be able to ra,”said I, though the prophecy had already been ade ore than once.“Oh, yes,”he said with nvi. He added that the tra went straight through to Liverpool. This fact seed to strikeas rather odd. We exged gnces.“Doesn’t it s at Crewe?”asked one of .“No,”said our friend, briefly. He seed alost disagreeable. There was along pae. One of , with a nod and a forced sile at the traveler, said“Well!”The nod, the sile and the unang onosylble, were returned ioly. Another pae was broken by one ofwith a fit of ughg. It was an obvioly assud fit, but it served to pass the ti. The btle of the ptfor was unabated. There was no sign of the tra’s departure. Release—ours, and our friend’s—was not yet.

My wanderg eye alighted on a rather portly iddle-aged an who was talkg early fro the ptfor to a young dy at thedow but oo ours. His fe profile was vaguely failiar to . The young dy was evidently Ari, and he was evidently English; otherwise I should have guessed fro his ipressive air that he was her father. I wished I uld hear what he was sayg. I was sure he was givg the very best advice; and the strong tenderness of his gaze was really beautiful. He seed agied it?

In a fsh I rebered. The an was Hubert Le Ros. But how ged sce st I saw hi! That was seven ht years ago,the Strand. He was then(as ual)out of an e, and borrowed half-a-. It seed a privilege to lend anythg to hi. He was always agitor, and a an of sober habit. But, like any others of his kd, Hubert Le Ros (I do not, of urse, give the actual na by which he was known) drifted speedily away to the provces; and I, like every one else, ceased to reber hi.

It was strao see hi, after all these years, here ofor of Eton, lookg so prospero and solid. It was not only the flesh that he had put on, but also the clothes, that ade hi hard tnize. In the old days, an iitation fur at had seed to be as tegral a part of hi as were his ill-shorn ntern jaws. But now his stu was a odel of rid sober oderation, drag, not callg, attention to itself. He looked like a banker.Any one uld have been proud to be seen off by hi.

“Stand back, please!”he tra was about to start, and I waved farewell to y friend. Le Ros did not stand back. He stood cspgboth hands the hands of the young Ari.“Stand back, sir, please!”he obeyed, but quickly darted fa to whisper so fal word. I thk there were tearsher eyes. There certaly were tearshis when, at length, havg watched the tra out of sight, he turned round. He seed, heless, delighted to see . He askedwhere I had been hidg all these years; and siultaneoly repaidthe half- as though it had been borrowed yesterday. He lked his are, and walked withslowly along the ptfor, sayg with leasure he read y draatic criticiss every Saturday.

I told hi,return, how uch he was issed oage.“Ah, yes,”he said,“I never a the stage nowadays.”He id so ephasis on the word“stage.”and I asked hi where, then, he did act.“Ofor,”he answered.“You an,”said I,“that you recite at s?”He siled.“This,”he whispered, strikg his sti the ground,“is the ptfor I an.”Had his ysterio prosperity unhged hi? He looked quite sane. I begged hi to be ore explicit.

“I suppose,”he said presently, givga light for the cigar which he had offered ,“You have been seeg a friend off? I assented. He askedwhat I supposed he had been dog. I said that I had watched hi dog the sa thg.“No,”he said gravely.“That dy was not a friend of e. I t her for the first ti this , less than half an ho, here.”and aga he struck the ptfor with his stick.

I nfessed that I was bewildered. He siled.“You ay,”he said,“have heard of the Anglo-Ari Social Bureau? I had not. He exped tothat of the thoands of Aris who annually pass through Engnd there are any hundreds who have no English friends. In the old days they ed t letters of trodu. But the English are so hospitable that these letters are hardly worth the paper they are written on.”Th,“aid Le Ros,”the A.A.S.B. supplies a lo want. Aris are a sociable people, and ost of the have plenty of oo spend. The A.A.S.B. supplies the with English friends. Fifty pert of the fees is paid over to the friends. The other fifty is retaed by the A.A.S.B. I a not, as! A director. If I were, I should be a very ri deed. I a only an eployee. But even so I do very well. I a one of the seers-off.

Aga I asked for enlightennt.“Many Aris,”he said,“ot afford to keep friendsEngnd. But theyall afford to be seen off. The fee is only five pounds (enty-five dolrs) for a sgle traveller; a pounds (forty dolrs) for a party of o or ore. They send thatto the Bureau, givg the date of their departure, and a description by which the seer-off id.“Of urse it is worth it,”said Le Ros.“It prevents the fro feelg‘Out of it.’It earns the the respect of the guard. It saves the fro beg despised by their fellow-passehe people whog to be on the boat. It gives the a footg for the whole voyage. Besides, it is a great pleasureitself. You sawseeg that young dy off. Didn’t you thk I did it beautifully?”“Beautifully,”I aditted.“I envied you. There was I—”“Yes, Iiage. There were you, shufflg fro head to foot, starg bnkly at your friend, tryg to ake ion. I know. That’s how I ed to be yself, before I studied, ao the thg professionally. I don’t say I’ perfect yet. I’ still a artyr to ptfht. A railway station is the ost difficult of all pces to act , as you have disvered for yourself.”“But,”I said with resentnt,“I wasn’t tryg to act. I really felt.”“so did I, y boy,”aid Le Ros.“You ’t act without feelg. What’s-his-na, the Fren—Diderot, yes—said you uld; but what did he know about it? Don’t you see those tearsy eyes whera started? I hadn’t forced the. I tell you I was oved. So were you, I dare say. But you uldn’t have puped up a tear to prove it. You ’t express your feelgs. In other words, you ’t act. At any rate,”he added kdly,“nota railway station.”“Teach !”cried. He looked thoughtfully at .“Well,”he said at length,“the seeg-off season is practically over. Yes, I’ll give you a urse. I have a good any pupils on hand already; but yes,”he said, nsultg an orebook,“I uld give you an hour on Tuesdays and Fridays.”

His ters, I nfess, are rather high. But I don’t grudge the vestnt.

参考译文

我不会送行。它可是我所认为世上最难做好的事情之一，对此，你大概也心有同感。

送一位朋友从滑铁卢去渥克斯厅可以说是一件相当简单的事。但你从来就接不到这种轻松活儿。我们只有当朋友要远行，离去的时间又比较长时，才被召唤亲赴车站送行。朋友交情越好，送的路程越远，朋友离去的时间越长，我们就越早到达车站，相应的，我们遭遇的失败也就越为惨烈。这种失败的程度恰恰与场合的正式以及感情的深厚程度成正比。

屋内话别已十分体面，甚至在门前台阶也不错。我们脸上的表情书写着真切的忧伤，言语里透出恋恋不舍之情，主客双方不觉尴尬或拘谨，亲密友谊更是丝毫无损。如此的送别真可谓完美。可我们怎么就不懂到了这种程度就应该罢休呢？通常情况下，即将远行的友人们总是恳求我们次日早晨不要再赶到车站。但我们知道那不一定是真心话，便也就不听信那劝说的话，还是奔向车站。假若真的听信了朋友们的话，并且照着做了，他们说不定心里还会责怪呢。何况，他们也确实希望能再见上我们一面。于是我们也就按时到达，真诚地去回应朋友的愿望。但结果却，结果却，陡然生出一道鸿沟！我们伸手，可怎么也无法超越，谁也够不着谁。我们哑口无言，像愚笨的动物痴望人类一样面面相觑。我们“找些话题来说”——但哪里有什么话好说的！大家都心知肚明离别之景昨夜就已上演了一遍。人还是昨晚的那些人，但从表面上看，所有的又都变了，气氛是如此紧张，我们都盼望着列车员赶紧鸣笛，及早结束这场闹剧。

上周一个冷清阴沉的早晨，我准点赶到奥斯顿送一位去美国的朋友。

头一天晚上，我们已经摆设筵席为他饯行，席间分手的离情和聚会的喜庆糅合得恰到好处。他这一去可能就是多年，席上有些人恐怕今世也难得再见他面。虽然说不上完全不受未来所投下的阴影的影响，可我们还是兴高采烈，畅叙了往日情谊。我们既为认识这位朋友而感谢命运，同时又因他的行将离别而遗憾不已。此两种情怀欣然体现，昨晚的离别真是完美！

可现在呢，我们在站台上，行为僵硬，极不自然，友人的面孔嵌在车厢窗框中，却宛如一个陌生人——一个急于讨人欢心的陌生人，一个情意真切但却又举止笨拙的陌生人。“东西都带齐了吧？”送行的人中有一个打破了沉默。“对，都带齐了。”我们的朋友愉快地点了点头，答道“都齐了。”紧接着的这再次重复更加明显地暴露出此刻他头脑的空空如也。“那你得在火车上吃午饭了，”我说道，尽管这个预言远非第一次被提出。“啊，是的。”他用确定的语气回答，然后又告诉大家，列车将中途不停直达利物浦。这句新加上的话可似乎就带来了惊讶。我们彼此对视。“在克鲁也不停吗？”一个人问道。“不停。”朋友回答得简短，甚至都有些不悦了。较长一阵时间的停顿过后，有个人对我们的朋友回了句“行！”，与此同时还点着头，作强颜欢笑状。车内的朋友无意识地重复着点头，微笑和“行”这个单音节词。沉默再次接踵而至，多亏我们中的一位干咳了几声打破这沉闷的寂静——那咳嗽当然是假装出来的，但它们却恰到好处地拖延了时间。列车似乎没有立即出发的迹象，站台上还是乱哄哄的。关于解除送别紧张的气氛——无论于送客的，还是于被送的——这个时刻还没有到来。

我的目光四处游弋，移到一个中年人身上的时候眼前突然一亮，他体格颇为健壮，站在站台上，正同我们旁边第三个窗口里的一名年轻女郎亲切话别。他良好的体型于我似乎并不陌生。那女郎显然是个美国人，而他作为英国人的特征也十分明显。如果不注意这点，单从他娓娓而谈的神态判断，我定会把他们当成一对父女。我热切地想听到他说话的内容，十分确定他此时正提供着最宝贵的建议；而他又是那般温柔地凝视着他的倾听者，真是活脱脱的一个美男子。末了，他又叮咛几句，更是魅力慑人了，连站在那么远之外的我都能感受到。而这魅力，就好比他的身材，隐隐约约为我所熟悉。但我在哪见到过呢？

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