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The Man in Asbestos
穿石棉衣服的人
Stephen Leacock
斯蒂芬·李科克
To begin with, let me admit that I did it partly from jealousy.
首先，我要承認，我這么做，部分原因是出于嫉妒。
It seemed unfair that other writers should be able at will to drop into a sleep of four or five hundred years, and to plunge headfirst into a distant future and be a witness of its marvels.
我覺得，別的作家都能夠隨心所欲地睡上四五百年，然后直接進入遙遠的未來，體驗那時各種神奇的事物，而我不能。這太不公平了。
I wanted to do that too.
我也要那么做。
I made preparations for the sleep.
我為這次長眠作了充分的準備。
It was, in a way, clear, straight suicide, but I did it.
在某種意義上，這簡直就是直截了當的自殺。但是我就這么做了。
I could feel my senses leaving me. I fell into the deep immeasurable sleep in which the very existence of the outer world was hushed. Dimly I could feel the days go past, then years, and then the long passage of the centuries.
我可以感到自己在慢慢失去知覺。我進入了深不可測的沉睡。周圍萬籟倶寂。我迷迷糊糊感覺到日子一天天過去，然后一年年，最后是一個一個世紀。
Then quite suddenly, I woke up, and looked about me.
然后，我就突然醒來了。我往四下一望。
Where was I?
我這是在哪里啊？
I found myself sitting on a broad couch in some kind of museum.
我發現自己好像在一個博物館模樣的房子里，坐在一張寬寬的長沙發上。
Beside me sat a man. His face was hairless, but neither old nor young. He wore clothes that looked like the grey ashes of paper that had burned and kept its shape. He was looking at me quietly, but with no particular surprise or interest.
在我旁邊，還坐著一個人，他臉上光滑無毛發，看不出多大年紀。身上穿的衣服好像是紙糊的，被燒成灰以后仍然還保持著原來的形狀。此人正在默默地望著我，既沒有顯得驚奇，也沒表示絲毫興趣。
"Quick," I said, eager to begin. "Where am I? Who are you?"
“快！”我迫不及待地問道，“我現在是在什么地方？你是誰？”
