领略原汁原味汉英对照经典名作
波希米亚丑闻

      To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer—excellent for drawing the veil from men’s motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory.
      I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us away from each other. My own complete happiness, and the home-centred interests which rise up around the man who first finds himself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to absorb all my attention, while Holmes, who loathed every form of society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature. He was still, as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his immense faculties and extraordinary powers of observation in following out those clues, and clearing up those mysteries which had been abandoned as hopeless by the official police. From time to time I heard some vague account of his doings: of his summons to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff murder, of his clearing up of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson brothers at Trincomalee, and finally of the mission which he had accomplished so delicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland. Beyond these signs of his activity, however, which I merely shared with all the readers of the daily press, I knew little of my former friend and companion. One night—it was on the twentieth of March, 1888—I was returning from a journey to a patient (for I had now returned to civil practice), when my way led me through Baker Street. As I passed the well-remembered door, which must always be associated in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of the Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see Holmes again, and to know how he was employing his extraordinary powers. His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. To me, who knew his every mood and habit, his attitude and manner told their own story. He was at work again. He had risen out of his drug-created dreams nd was hot upon the scent of some new problem. I rang the ell and was shown up to the chamber which had formerly een in part my own. is manner was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was lad, I think, to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with kindly eye, he waved me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars, and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene in the orner. Then he stood before the fire and looked me over in his ingular introspective fashion.
      “Wedlock suits you,” he remarked. “I think, Watson, that ou have put on seven and a half pounds since I saw you.”
      “Seven!” I answered.
      “Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle ore, I fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You did ot tell me that you intended to go into harness.”
      “Then, how do you know?”
      “I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been etting yourself very wet lately, and that you have a most lumsy and careless servant girl?”
      “My dear Holmes,” said I, “this is too much. You would ertainly have been burned, had you lived few centuries ago.It is true that I had a country walk on Thursday and came ome in a dreadful mess, but as I have changed my clothes I can’t imagine how you deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is ncorrigible, and my wife has given her notice; but there, again, I fail to see how you work it out.”
      He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands ogether.

中文翻译

      对于歇洛克•福尔摩斯来说，她始终都是“那位女士”。提到她的时候，我很少听到他使用其他的任何称谓。在福尔摩斯眼里，她是她那个性别之中的翘楚，令其他所有的女人黯然失色。这倒不是说，他对艾琳•阿德勒产生了什么类似于恋慕的情感，因为所有情感，尤其是前面所说的那一种，都与他那冷静精密、稳定至极的头脑格格不入。按我看，他堪称是有史以来最为完美的一部演绎-观察机器，要扮演情人的角色却未免会落入画虎类犬的境地。他从来不会提及那些温柔软弱的情感，即便提及也必然带上挖苦与讽刺。作为一名观察专家，这些情感是十分绝妙的观察对象，非常适合用来揭开人们身上的面纱，由此洞烛他们的动机与行为。然而，作为一名训练有素的演绎专家，若是容许此类情感侵袭自己灵敏缜密、调校精准的心智，那就无异于纵容干扰因素破坏自己的智力成果，使之面临全部失真的危险。他这样的头脑若是产生了剧烈的波动，由此而来的干扰不啻于一台精密的仪器进了沙子，或是他本人拥有的某块高倍透镜有了裂纹。尽管如此，还是有一个女人，也只有对于歇洛克•福尔摩斯来说，她始终都是“那位女士”。提到她的时候，我很少听到他使用其他的任何称谓。在福尔摩斯眼里，她是她那个性别之中的翘楚，令其他所有的女人黯然失色。这倒不是说，他对艾琳•阿德勒产生了什么类似于恋慕的情感，因为所有情感，尤其是前面所说的那一种，都与他那冷静精密、稳定至极的头脑格格不入。按我看，他堪称是有史以来最为完美的一部演绎-观察机器，要扮演情人的角色却未免会落入画虎类犬的境地。他从来不会提及那些温柔软弱的情感，即便提及也必然带上挖苦与讽刺。作为一名观察专家，这些情感是十分绝妙的观察对象，非常适合用来揭开人们身上的面纱，由此洞烛他们的动机与行为。然而，作为一名训练有素的演绎专家，若是容许此类情感侵袭自己灵敏缜密、调校精准的心智，那就无异于纵容干扰因素破坏自己的智力成果，使之面临全部失真的危险。他这样的头脑若是产生了剧烈的波动，由此而来的干扰不啻于一台精密的仪器进了沙子，或是他本人拥有的某块高倍透镜有了裂纹。尽管如此，还是有一个女人，也只有刚好就看见他颀长瘦削的黢黑剪影接连两次映在了百叶窗帘上。
      他正在房间里火急火燎地来回走动，脑袋耷在胸前，双手背在背后。我了解他所有的脾性和习惯，他的姿态和举止对我来说自然不是秘密。显而易见，他又一次进入了工作状态，已经把药物催生的醉梦抛在身后，正在急不可耐地寻找某个新问题的答案。于是我拉响门铃，跟着就被人领进了那个我曾经是半个主人的房间。
      他的态度算不上热情，当然，他这个人很少有态度热情的时候。不过我觉得，看到我来，他还是很高兴的。他没有说什么，只是亲切地看着我，摆手示意我到一把扶手椅上去坐，跟着就把他的雪茄盒子扔了过来，又指了指角落里的一只酒樽和一个苏打水瓶。接下来，他站在壁炉跟前，摆出他那种若有所思的特有神态，上上下下地打量着我。
       “婚姻生活很适合你啊，”他说道。“按我看，华生，跟上次见面的时候相比，你的体重增加了七磅半 。”
       “七磅！”我答道。
       “是吗，我觉得应该不止。要我说，华生，应该比七磅多那么一点点。我还发现，你又开始行医了。重操旧业的打算，你以前可没跟我提过啊。”
       “那么，你到底是怎么知道的呢？”
       “我观察出来的，演绎出来的。不通过这些方法，我又怎么能知道你最近刚把自己浇了个透心凉、而且请了个特别笨拙又特别马虎的女仆呢？”
       “亲爱的福尔摩斯，”我说道，“这可真是有点儿过头了。早生几个世纪的话，你一定会被人烧死的。确实，周四我在乡间的道路上走了一阵，回家的时候已经被淋得一塌糊涂，可我还是不明白你是怎么知道的，因为我已经换了衣服。至于玛丽•简嘛，她真是没法治，我妻子已经下了逐客令，不过，跟淋雨的事情一样，我想不出你是怎么知道的。”
       他吃吃地笑了起来，兴奋地搓了搓他那双纤长的手。

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