評論
打印
Dirk Stroeve, telling the story, had such a look of blank astonishment on his round, foolish face that it was almost impossible not to laugh.
說這個故事的時候，戴爾克·施特略夫的一張傻里傻氣的胖臉蛋上流露著那么一種驚詫莫解的神情，不由得你看了不發笑。
I shouldn't have minded if he'd said my pictures were bad, but he said nothing—nothing.
“如果他說我畫得不好我一點也不在乎，可是他什么都沒說——一句話也沒說。”
And you will tell the story, Dirk, Said his wife.
“你還挺得意地把這個故事講給人家聽，戴爾克，”他的妻子說。
It was lamentable that one was more amused by the ridiculous figure cut by the Dutchman than outraged by Strickland's brutal treatment of him.
可悲的是，不論是誰聽了這個故事，首先會被這位荷蘭人扮演的滑稽角色逗得發笑，而并不感到思特里克蘭德這種粗魯行為生氣。
I hope I shall never see him again, said Mrs. Stroeve.
“我再也不想看到這個人了，”施特略夫太太說。
Stroeve smiled and shrugged his shoulders. He had already recovered his good-humour.
施特略夫笑起來，聳了聳肩膀。他的好性子已經恢復了。
The fact remains that he's a great artist, a very great artist.
“實際上，他是一個了不起的畫家，非常了不起。”
Strickland? I exclaimed. "It can't be the same man."
“思特里克蘭德？”我喊起來。“咱們說的不是一個人。”
A big fellow with a red beard. Charles Strickland. An Englishman.
“就是那個身材高大、生著一把紅胡子的人。查理斯·思特里克蘭德。一個英國人。”
He had no beard when I knew him, but if he has grown one it might well be red. The man I'm thinking of only began painting five years ago.
“我認識他的時候他沒留胡子。但是如果留起胡子來，很可能是紅色的。我說的這個人五年以前才開始學畫。”
That's it. He's a great artist.
“就是這個人。他是個偉大的畫家。”
Impossible.
“不可能。”
Have I ever been mistaken? Dirk asked me. "I tell you he has genius. I'm convinced of it. In a hundred years, if you and I are remembered at all, it will be because we knew Charles Strickland."
“我哪一次看走過眼？”戴爾克問我。“我告訴你他有天才。我有絕對把握。一百年以后，如果還有人記得咱們兩個人，那是因為我們沾了認識查理斯·思特里克蘭德的光兒。”
I was astonished, and at the same time I was very much excited. I remembered suddenly my last talk with him.
我非常吃驚，但與此同時我也非常興奮。我忽然想起我最后一次同他談話。
Where can one see his work? I asked. "Is he having any success? Where is he living?"
“在什么地方可以看到他的作品？”我問，“他有了點兒名氣沒有？他現在住在什么地方？”
No; he has no success. I don't think he's ever sold a picture. When you speak to men about him they only laugh. But I know he's a great artist. After all, they laughed at Manet. Corot never sold a picture. I don't know where he lives, but I can take you to see him. He goes to a cafe in the Avenue de Clichy at seven o'clock every evening. If you like we'll go there to-morrow.
“沒有名氣。我想他沒有賣出過一幅畫。你要是和人談起他的畫來，沒有一個不笑他的。但是我知道他是個了不起的畫家。他們還不是笑過馬奈？柯羅也是一張畫沒有賣出去過。我不知道他住在什么地方，但是我可以帶你去找到他。每天晚上七點鐘他都到克利舍路一家咖啡館去。你要是愿意的話，咱們明天就可以去。”
