张白桦译作《当她老了》（双语）

BellaFleaceGaveaParty...

Bella Fleace was known to the entire countryside as the last of her family.   She walked with the aid of a stick, having been lamed many years back when her horse rolled her among loose stones, and she had not been able to ride again.   She had become a by-word in the neighborhood, a joke. ‘We saw Bella,’ they     would report. ‘Wonder how long the old girl will last? She must be nearly ninety.  My father remembers when she used to hunt－went like smoke, too.’ Indeed, Bella herself was becoming increasingly occupied with the prospect of death. In the winter before the one we are talking of, she had been extremely ill. She reappeared in April,rosy cheeked as ever, but slower in her movements and mind. She     gave instructions that better attention must be paid to her father’s and brother’s   graves, and in June, for the first time, invited her heir to visit her. She had always refused to see this young man up till now. He was an Englishman, a very  distant cousin, named Banks. Bella disliked him from the moment he arrived. One   day he came to Bella bearing a pile of  volumes from the library.

‘I say, did you know you had these?’ he asked.

‘I did,’ Bella lied.

‘All first editions. They must be extremely valuable.’

‘You put them back where you found them.’

Later, when he wrote to thank her for his visit, he mentioned the books         again. The set Bella thinking. Why should that young puppy go round the house   putting a price on everything? She wasn’t dead yet, Bella thought. She had often heard that the books were valuable. Well, there were plenty of books in the library and she did not see why Archie Banks should profit by them. So she wrote a         letter to a Dublin bookseller. He came to look through the library, and after a while he offered her a thousand for six books. Bella was left with winter coming on and a thousand pounds in hand.

It was then that it occurred to her to give a party.There were always several parties given round Ballingar at Christmas time, but of recent years Bella had not been invited to any, partly because many of her neighbors had never spoken to   her, and partly because they did not think she would want come, and partly           because they would not have known what to do with her if she had. As a matter of fact she loved parties. She liked sitting downto supper in a noisy room, she liked dance music and gossip about which of the girls was pretty and who was in love with them, and she liked drinking and having things brought to her by men in pink evening coats. And though she tried to comfort herself with contemptuous             thoughts about the ancestry of the hostesses, it annoyed her very much whenever she heard of a party given in the neighborhood to which she was not asked.

Bella took it into her head to give aparty. She rose immediately and limped across the room to the bell-rope.Presently her butler came into the morning-room; he wore the green apron in which he cleaned the silver.

‘Was it yourself  ringing?’ he asked.

‘It was, who else?’

‘And I at the silver!’

‘Riley,’ said Bella seriously, ‘I propose to give aball at Christmas.’

‘Indeed!’ said her butler. ‘And for what would you want to be dancing at your age? ’ But as Bella explained her idea, a sympathetic light began to glitter in Riley’s eye.

‘There’s not been such a ball in the country fortwenty-five years. It will cost a fortune.’

‘It will cost a thousand pounds,’ said Bella proundly.

The preparations were amazing. Seven new servants were hired in the        village and set to work dusting and cleaning and polishing,cleaning out furniture and pulling up carpets. Then came painters,paper-hangers and plumber, and in a moment of enthusiasm Bella had the pillarsin the hall regilded; windows were re-glazed, and the stair carpet moved so that the worn strips were less noticeable.

In all these works Bella was untiring. She limped from drawing-room to hall, down the long gallery, up the staircase, warning the hired servants, lending a       hand with the lighter objects of furniture, sliding,when the time came, up and        down the mahogany floor of drawing-room to work in the French chalk. She          found long-forgotten services of china, went down with Riley into the cellars to     count the few remaining bottles of champagne. And in the evenings, when the       labourers had retired, Bella sat up far into the night turning the pages of cookery books, writing long and detailed letter to the agents for dance bands.Cheerfully,   in a steady childish handwriting, Bella wrote the names on her cards and addressed the envelops. It was the work of several late sittings..

But at last, none too early, the last envelop was addressed. A final job with   the stamps and then later than usual, she rose fromthe desk. Her limbs were stiff, her eyes tired; she felt a little dizzy, but she locked her desk that evening with the knowledge that the most serious part of the work of the party was over. Among    her guest list, there were her pals of childhood, friends of youth and every villager who she could think of and think highly of. Several people had intentionally been   left out from that list.

‘What’s all this I hear about Bella giving a party?’said Lady Gordon to Lady Mockstock. ‘I haven’t had a card.’

‘Never have I yet. I hope the old thing hasn’t forgotten me. I certainly intend    to go. I‘ve never been inside the house, I believe she’s got some lovely things.’

As the last days approached Bella concentrated more upon her own appearance. She had bought few clothes of recent years, and Dublin dressmaker   withwhom she used to deal had shut up shop. For an instant she played with the ideaof a journey to London and even Paris. In the end she discovered a shop to   suit her, and bought a very splendid gown of red satin; to this she added longwhite    gloves and satin shoes. She ordered a hairdresser down from Dublin to dress   her hair.

On the day of the ball she woke early, slightly feverish with nervous    excitement, and waited in bed till she was called,restlessly rehearsing in her mind every detail of the arrangements. Before noon she had been supervise the setting of    hundreds of candles around the ballroom and supper-room; she had seen the supper tables laid out with silver and glass and she had helped decorated the  staircase and hall with chrysanthemums. She had no luncheon that day. She felt a little faint; lay down for a short time, but soon got up to sew with her own hands the      crested buttons on to the liveries of the hired servants.

The invitations were timed for eight o’clock. She wondered whether that      was too early－she had heard tales of parties that began very late－but as the   afternoon dragged on unbearably, Bella became glad she had set a short term   on this tiring wait.

At six she went up to dress. The hair dresser was there with a bag full of      combs. He brushed and curled her hair until it became orderly and formal. She   put on all her jewllery, and standing before the glass in her room, could not stop a gasp of surprise. Then she limped downstairs.The house looked splendid in the  candlelight. The band was there, the twelve hiredfootmen, Riley in knee   breeches and black silk stockings.

It struck eight. Bella waited. Nobody came.

She sat down on a gilt chair at the head of thestairs, looked steadily before her with empty, blue eyes. In the hall, in the cloak-room,in the supper-room, the hired footmen looked steadily at one another with knowing smiles. ‘What does the  old girl expect? No one’ll have finished dinner before ten.’

At half past twelve Bella rose from her chair. Her face gave no sign of what she was thinking.

‘Riley, I think I will have some supper. I am not feeling altogether well.’

She limped slowly to the dining-room.

‘Give me a stuffed quail and a glass of wine. Tell the band to start playing.’

The blue Danube waltz flooded the house. Bella smiled approval and  swayed her head a little to the rhythm.

‘Riley, I am really quite hungry. I’ve had nothing to eat all day. Give me another quail and some more champagne.’

Alone among the candles and the hired footmen, Riley served his mistress with an enormous supper. She enjoyed every mouthful.

Presently she rose. ‘I’m afraid there must be some mistake. No one seems to be coming to the ball. It is very disappointing after all our trouble. You may tell   the band to go home.’

But just as she was leaving the dining-room there wasa stir in the hall. Guests were arriving. With wild resolution Bella swung herself up the stairs. She must  get to the top before the guests were announced. One hand on the banister, one on her stick, beating heart, two stepsat a time. At last she reached the landing    and turned to face the company.There was a mist before her eyes and a singing in her ears. She breathed with effort, but dimly she saw four figures advancing     and saw Riley meet them and heard him announce:

Suddenly the daze in which she had being moving cleared. Here on the       stairs were the two women she had not invited－Lady Mockstock the draper’s    daughter, Lady Gordon the American.

She drew herself up and fixed them with her empty,blue eyes.

‘I had not expected this honour,’ she said. ‘Please forgive me if I am not      able to entertain you.’

The Mockstocks and the Gordons stood aghast; saw the mad blue eyes of  their hostess, her red dress; the ballroom beyond, looking enormous in its emptiness; heard the dance music echoing through the empty house. The air was        heave with the scent of chrysanthemum. And the then drama and unreality of the scene disappeared. Miss Fleace suddenly sat down, and hold out her hands to   her butler, said, ‘I don’t quite know what’s happening.’

He and two of the hired footmen carried the old lady to a sofa. She spoke   only once more. Her mind was still on the same subject.‘They came uninvited,      those two…and nobody else.’

A day later she died.

Mr. Bank arrived for the funeral and spent a week sorting her belongings. Among them he found in her desk, stamped, addressed, but unposted, the  invitation to the ball.当她老了

张白桦 译

贝拉小姐远近闻名，她是弗丽丝家族的最后传人。多年以前，贝拉小姐骑马在松动的石头上滑倒摔伤了腿，所以现在走路要靠拐杖，此后她再也没有骑过马。她已经成了邻居们茶余饭后的笑柄，“我们看见贝拉了，”他们会这样报告情况。“不知道那个老姑娘还能活多久？她肯定快九十了，我爸爸还记得她打猎的样子——也像一阵风呢。”贝拉也越来越为即将到来死亡困扰。就在我们提到的那年的前一年冬天，她大病了一场。等她四月再次出现时，面颊一如既往的玫瑰色，只是身体行动和大脑反应迟缓了些。她下令一定要加强父亲和哥哥的坟墓修缮管理。六月的时候，破天荒地允许她的继承人来了一趟。迄今为止，她一直拒绝见这个年轻人。他名叫班克斯，是个英国人。贝拉第一眼看见这个远亲就不喜欢。一天，他抱着图书室的一大堆大部头来见贝拉。

“我说，你知道你有这些书吗？”他问道。

“我知道啊，”贝拉谎称。

“都是初版，一定有极高的价值。”

“哪儿拿的你给我放回哪儿去。”

后来，他写信感谢上门拜访，再次提到了那些书。这让贝拉陷入了沉思：干嘛让那个小崽子在家里乱转，给所有的东西定价？她还没死呢，贝拉想。她常听人说这些书有价值，嗯，图书室里有那么多书，焉知阿尔奇·班克斯不会藉此牟利。于是她给都柏林的一个书商写了封信。他来图书室看了看，不一会就给她的六本书开出了一千英镑的价。他走了，给贝拉留下了即将到来的冬季和一千英镑。

也就是从这时开始，贝拉小姐想到要办个晚会，以往在巴林杰是时候在圣诞时节都要举办晚会的，而近些年没有人邀请贝拉参加过晚会，可能因为许多邻居从来都没跟她说过话，也可能因为他们以为她不愿意去，也可能因为他们不知道她真去了的话拿她怎么办。事实上，贝拉小姐喜欢晚会，喜欢坐在热热闹闹的屋子里吃饭，喜欢身穿粉红色制服的侍者端上来的食物，喜欢听人们议论哪个姑娘最漂亮，谁爱上谁之类的闲话，喜欢欣赏舞曲，喜欢喝酒，喜欢穿粉色晚礼服的人给她递送东西。尽管她竭力用这些晚会的女主人出身低微来宽解自己，可每次听到邻里地区举办晚会却不邀请她，还是免不了怒火中烧。

她一有了举办晚会的想法，就立刻一瘸一拐地走到房间的另一头拉索铃，家里唯一的佣人兼管家闻声来到上午房，腰里还系着擦银器时系的绿围裙，“是您亲自摇的铃吗？”

“除了我，还会有谁？”

“可我在擦银器呀！”

“赖利，”贝拉正色道，“我要在圣诞节办一个晚会。”

“真的？”她的管家大吃一惊，问道，“您这把年纪为啥还要跳舞？”可是随着贝拉一步步地把意图解释清楚以后，赖利的眼中闪出了同情的光，“二十五年都没人举办过这样盛大的晚会啦，恐怕要花一大笔钱呐。”

“花一千英镑。”贝拉自豪地回答。

筹备的工作量大得惊人：从村里雇来七个仆人清扫尘土，把地板抛光打蜡，把家具搬出去，地毯拉起来。接着，油漆匠、糊裱匠和水管工也来了，在令人激动的一瞬间，大厅的柱子变成了金色，新玻璃在窗户上闪闪发光，楼梯上的旧地毯也挪到了别处，这样地毯上的旧条纹就不那么明显了。

贝拉不知疲倦地干着这一切，一瘸一拐地穿梭于画室与大厅之间，穿过长长的走廊，爬上楼梯，告诉仆人一些注意事项，看见搬运轻一点的东西就搭把手。她亲自往客厅的红木地板上撒滑石粉，翻出了几套淡忘已久的瓷器，跟赖利一起下地下室数剩余的为数不多的香槟酒。晚上，雇工们都休息了，贝拉还在查烹调书，给舞会乐队代理人写长长的内容详尽的信，用一种孩子气的笔体往请柬和信封上写名字和地址，这样点灯熬油然而却是兴致勃勃地干了好几个晚上。终于，最后一张信封的地址也写完了。此时时间已经不早了。终于，最后一道工序——贴邮票也干完了，那一天，她熬得比往常晚，从桌前站起来时，感觉四肢僵硬，眼睛疲乏，有点头晕目眩，不过，她锁抽屉时，还是清醒地意识到晚会最重要的准备工作做完了。

在她邀请的客人中，有儿时的伙伴，青年时的朋友，以及所有她能想起来的、能看得起的村民。她有意把某些人排除在外，其中就有戈登女士和莫克斯托克夫人。

而这两位女生也在议论她，“我听说贝拉要办晚会，是怎么回事？我没收到请柬。”戈登女士问道。

“我也没收到，我希望那老东西没忘了我，我当然想去了，我还没去过她家呢，我相信里面一定有漂亮的东西。”

晚会日期的越来越近，贝拉也越来越重视自己的外表了，她近些年来很少买衣服，她以往常常光顾的都柏林那家服装店已经关门大吉了，为此，她动过去伦敦或者巴黎的念头，后来却发现当地一家商店的衣服挺适合她，于是买了件绚丽的红缎长袍，还买了副白色长手套和一双缎子鞋来配。与此同时，她还从都柏林预约了一个美发师为她做头发。

晚会那天她醒得特别的早，由于紧张和激动发着低烧，在床上辗转反侧等着人来叫，脑袋里预演着晚会的每一道程序的每一个细节。上午，她指挥仆人在舞厅和餐厅周围放置了大量蜡烛，在晚餐桌上摆放银器和玻璃器皿，帮着用菊花装饰楼梯和大厅，一上午就这样过去了。中午，她吃不下饭，觉得有点虚弱，就躺了一小会儿，很快爬起来亲手给雇来的男仆缝刻带有弗丽斯家族饰章的制服纽扣。

请柬上的时间定在晚八点，她在想是不是太早了，因为她听说时下有些晚会开始得很晚，但随着下午的时间一分一分令人难以忍受地捱过，她庆幸自己原来的安排挺好，这使得她免去了长时间等待的煎熬。

六点钟了，她开始梳妆打扮，美发师背着一个装满梳子的大包来了，给她梳理头发，整烫成型。她戴上所有的珠宝，站在自己房间的镜子前面，惊喜得透不过气来。

然后，她一瘸一拐地下了楼，看到整幢房子在上百根蜡烛的映照下显得金碧辉煌，乐队已经到位，十二个雇来的男仆装束整齐，垂首伺立，赖利身穿即膝马裤和黑丝长袜站在门口。

鈡敲八点，贝拉等待着，没有人来。

贝拉一动不动地坐在楼梯口的一把镀金椅子上，茫然的蓝眼睛一眨不眨地凝视着前方。大厅里、餐厅里和衣帽间里雇来的男仆也一动不动，只是相互凝望着，脸上现出心照不宣的微笑：这个老姑娘能等来什么人？什么人会在十点以前吃完晚餐？

十二点半了，贝拉从椅子上起身，脸上没动声色，“赖利，我想吃点饭，我感觉不是很好。”说着，她一瘸一拐地慢慢向餐厅挪去。

“给我一只填鹌鹑和一杯香槟酒，吩咐乐队开始演奏。”华尔兹舞曲《蓝色多瑙河》的旋律随即在房子里流淌开来，贝拉赞赏地听着，微微笑着，头随着旋律轻轻地摆着。“赖利，我真地很饿，我一整天没吃东西了，再给我来一只填鹌鹑和一些香槟。”在蜡烛和雇来的男仆中间，赖利一个人伺候着女主人，端上了一桌丰盛的美味佳肴，贝拉每一口都吃得津津有味。不久，她站了起来，“恐怕是有些问题，好像没人来参加晚会，我们费了这么多工夫，却是这样的结果，真让人失望。赖利，你吩咐乐队可以回家了。”

就在她正要离开餐厅的时候，大厅里出现了一阵骚动：有客人来了。贝拉疯了似地毅然决然地开始上楼梯，她一手扶楼梯，一手拄拐杖，一次跨两个台阶，心跳如捣，她要在宣布客人到来之前爬上楼梯的平台。终于到达平台了，她这才转过身来，气喘吁吁，耳朵里嗡嗡响，视线模糊，只影影绰绰地看见四个人走了进来，赖利迎上前去，宣布道：“莫克斯托克勋爵及夫人，塞缪先生和戈登女生到。”

她忽然觉得不再头晕目眩，楼梯站着两个不请自来的女人——布商的女儿莫克斯托克女士和美国人戈登女士，她挺直了腰板，蓝眼睛茫然地盯着她们，“我没有料到会有这样的荣幸，恕我不能款待。”

四个来客目瞪口呆地站着，望着女主人疯狂的蓝眼睛和红色的缎袍，远处的大厅因为空无一人显得很大，听着舞曲在空旷的大厅里回荡，嗅着空气中弥漫的菊花的芬芳。接着，这场剧及其梦幻般的布景消失了，贝拉小姐突然瘫坐下来，把手伸向管家说，“我不大明白是怎么回事。”

赖利和两个雇来的男仆把老太太抬到一个沙发上，她只说了一句话，她的思绪还停留在那个话题上。“那两个，她们不请自来，请的一个没到。”

一天以后，贝拉死了。

班克斯来参加葬礼，花了一个星期的时间整理她的遗物，其中，在书桌里他发现了写好了地址，贴好了邮票，却没有寄出的晚会请柬。

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