懶人閑思錄：吃喝之道

I always was fond of eating and drinking, even as a child—especially eating, in those early days. I had an appetite then, also a digestion. I remember a dull-eyed, livid-complexioned gentleman coming to dine at our house once. He watched me eating for about five minutes, quite fascinated seemingly, and then he turned to my father with—

我一直喜歡吃喝，甚至在孩童時期就喜歡——小的時候，尤其喜歡吃。那時的我不僅食慾旺盛，消化也很好。我記得有一次，一個目光獃滯、面色青灰的先生來我家吃飯。他面帶驚異地看著我吃東西，看了差不多有五分鐘，似乎看得很著迷。然後，他轉向我爸爸——

"Does your boy ever suffer from dyspepsia?"

「你兒子得過消化不良嗎？」

"I never heard him complain of anything of that kind," replied my father. "Do you ever suffer from dyspepsia, Colly wobbles?" (They called me Colly wobbles, but it was not my real name.)

「我從來沒聽他抱怨過這方面的毛病。」我爸爸回答，「你得過消化不良嗎，煤球兒？」（他們叫我煤球兒，但這不是我的真名。）

"No, pa," I answered. After which I added:

「沒有，爸爸。」我回答說。之後我又問：

"What is dyspepsia, pa?"

「爸爸，什麼是消化不良？」

My livid-complexioned friend regarded me with a look of mingled amazement and envy. Then in a tone of infinite pity he slowly said:

這位面色青灰的朋友用一種混合著驚奇和嫉妒的眼神打量著我，然後以一種無限憐憫的語調慢慢說道：

"You will know—some day.」

「你會知道的——總有一天。」

My poor, dear mother used to say she liked to see me eat, and it has always been a pleasant ref lection to me since that I must have given her much gratification in that direction. A growing, healthy lad, taking plenty of exercise and careful to restrain himself from indulging in too much study, can generally satisfy the most exacting expectations as regards his feeding powers.

我可憐的、親愛的媽媽過去經常對我說，她喜歡看我吃東西。這對我來說一直是美好的回憶，因為在這方面，我一定給了她極大的滿足。一個正在成長的健康男孩，假如有足夠多的運動量，又懂得小心避免為過重的學業所累，那麼不管對他的食量有多麼苛刻的期望，他一般都能滿足。

It is amusing to see boys eat when you have not got to pay for it. Their idea of a square meal is a pound and a half of roast beef with five or six good-sized potatoes (soapy ones preferred as being more substantial), plenty of greens, and four thick slices of Yorkshire pudding, followed by a couple of currant dumplings, a few green apples, a pen"orth of nuts, half a dozen jumbles, and a bottle of ginger-beer. After that they play at horses.

假如不用你付錢，看男孩子們吃東西是一件極為有趣的事。對他們來說，一頓正經飯就意味著一塊一磅半的烤牛肉，五六個大個兒的馬鈴薯（油一點兒的更好，更實在），大份量的綠葉菜，四塊厚厚的約克郡布丁，還有幾個加侖子湯糰，幾隻青蘋果，一便士價值的果仁，六個環形小甜餅，外加一瓶薑汁啤酒。吃完之後，他們就去玩耍了。

How they must despise us men, who require to sit quiet for a couple of hours after dining off a spoonful of clear soup and the wing of a chicken!

而我們這些成年人，進餐時吃了只雞翅膀、喝了一匙清湯就得靜坐幾個小時慢慢消化。這會讓孩子們多麼瞧不起啊！

But the boys have not all the advantages on their side. A boy never enjoys the luxury of being satisfied. A boy never feels full. He can never stretch out his legs, put his hands behind his head, and, closing his eyes, sink into the ethereal blissfulness that encompasses the well-dined man. A dinner makes no difference whatever to a boy. To a man it is as a good fairy"s potion, and after it the world appears a brighter and a better place. A man who has dined satisfactorily experiences a yearning love toward all his fellow-creatures. He strokes the cat quite gently and calls it "poor pussy," in tones full of the tenderest emotion. He sympathizes with the members of the German band outside and wonders if they are cold; and for the moment he does not even hate his wife"s relations.

可是男孩子們並沒有將好處佔盡。他們從來沒有享受過這種心滿意足的樂趣。男孩子是永遠吃不飽的。他們不會像酒足飯飽的成年人一樣，兩腿一伸，頭枕著雙手，然後兩眼一閉，陷入那軟綿綿的安逸中。對於一個男孩子來說，一頓飯沒有任何影響。可對於一個成年人來說，每頓飯都像善良仙女的一劑葯，吃過之後，整個世界都會更明亮，更美好。吃飽喝足的成年人會對世上的所有生物同胞們產生一種熱切的愛。他會溫柔地撫摸貓咪，用柔情無限的語調稱它為「可憐的小貓」。他會同情在室外演出的德國樂隊的成員們，擔心他們是否會冷；這一刻，就連他太太的那些親戚，他也不那麼討厭了。

A good dinner brings out all the softer side of a man. Under its genial influence the gloomy and morose become jovial and chatty. Sour, starchy individuals, who all the rest of the day go about looking as if they lived on vinegar and Epsom salts, break out into wreathed smiles after dinner, and exhibit a tendency to pat small children on the head and to talk to them—vaguely—about sixpences. Serious men thaw and become mildly cheerful, and snobbish young men of the heavy-mustache type forget to make themselves objectionable.

一頓豐盛的正餐可以激發人身上所有的溫情。在它親切的影響力下，一個悶悶不樂、鬱鬱寡歡的人可以變得高興快活，談笑風生。酸腐而刻板、平日看起來好像靠喝醋吃鹽為生的人，在飽餐一頓之後會笑逐顏開，想要輕輕拍拍小孩子的頭，和他們聊聊——含含糊糊地——關於六便士硬幣的故事。吃飯可以使嚴肅的面孔放鬆下來，變得和顏悅色；也可以使留著大鬍子的勢利年輕人忘了做惹人討厭的事。

I always feel sentimental myself after dinner. It is the only time when I can properly appreciate love-stories. Then, when the hero clasps "her" to his heart in one last wild embrace and stifles a sob, I feel as sad as though I had dealt at whist and turned up only a deuce; and when the heroine dies in the end I weep. If I read the same tale early in the morning I should sneer at it. Digestion, or rather indigestion, has a marvelous effect upon the heart. If I want to write any thing very pathetic—I mean, if I want to try to write anything very pathetic—I eat a large plateful of hot buttered muffins about an hour beforehand, and then by the time I sit down to my work a feeling of unutterable melancholy has come over me. I picture heartbroken lovers parting forever at lonely wayside stiles, while the sad twilight deepens around them, and only the tinkling of a distant sheep-bell breaks the sorrow-laden silence. Old men sit and gaze at withered flowers till their sight is dimmed by the mist of tears. Little dainty maidens wait and watch at open casements; but "he cometh not," and the heavy years roll by and the sunny gold tresses wear white and thin. The babies that they dandled have become grown men and women with podgy torments of their own, and the playmates that they laughed with are lying very silent under the waving grass. But still they wait and watch, till the dark shadows of the unknown night steal up and gather round them and the world with its childish troubles fades from their aching eyes.

我自己就常在酒足飯飽後變得多愁善感。這是我能夠好好欣賞愛情小說的唯一時間。當男主角最後一次瘋狂地將「她」擁入懷中，強忍住淚水時，我真心地感到了悲痛，那種感覺就好像明明是我發牌，但最後只打成平手一樣。而在結尾女主角死的時候，我會痛哭一場。同樣一個故事，要是讓我一大早看到，我肯定會對它嗤之以鼻。消化力，更確切地說是消化不良，可以神奇地左右一個人的心情。假如我想寫些十分令人傷感的東西——我是說，假如我想嘗試寫些十分令人傷感的東西——我會在動筆前的一小時，吃上滿滿一大盤熱氣騰騰的黃油鬆餅。這樣，當我坐下來提筆寫作的時候，我才會沉浸在一種不可言說的感傷情緒中。我想像著這樣的畫面：心碎的情侶在孤單的籬牆小道邊永別，他們四周凄涼的暮色漸漸濃重，只有羊鈴的聲響從遠處傳來，打破了這充滿哀傷的靜寂。老人們坐在一邊，注視著那枯萎的花朵，直到他們的視線漸漸被淚水模糊。嬌小可愛的少女在敞開的窗前翹首等待，然而「他沒有來」，歲月轟然而過，碾碎一切，陽光般金色的髮髻也已變得稀疏蒼白。曾被她們抱在臂彎里搖晃的嬰孩，如今也已長大成人，有了自己的胖胖的小鬼；而曾經一起歡笑的小夥伴，如今已躺在茵茵綠草之下，靜寂無聲。可她們仍然執著地守候著，張望著，直到某個夜晚那濃黑的暗影偷偷來襲，將她們籠罩。這時，整個世界連同它那些幼稚的煩惱，都會在她們酸痛的眼中消失。

I see pale corpses tossed on white-foamed waves, and death-beds stained with bitter tears, and graves in trackless deserts. I hear the wild wailing of women, the low moaning of little children, the dry sobbing of strong men. It"s all the muffins. I could not conjure up one melancholy fancy upon a mutton chop and a glass of champagne.

我看到蒼白的屍體浮在漂著白沫的海浪上，苦澀的淚水給臨終的病床染上斑斑污漬，還有寂寞的墳塋孤立於人跡罕至的荒野中。我聽到女人們凄楚地哀號，孩子們低聲地呻吟，還有漢子們干啞地嗚咽。這全是那盤鬆餅的功勞。如果下肚的是一塊羊排和一杯香檳，我連一個悲慘的場景都想像不出。

A full stomach is a great aid to poetry, and indeed no sentiment of any kind can stand upon an empty one. We have not time or inclination to indulge in fanciful troubles until we have got rid of our real misfortunes. We do not sigh over dead dicky-birds with the bailiff in the house, and when we do not know where on earth to get our next shilling from, we do not worry as to whether our mistress" smiles are cold, or hot, or lukewarm, or anything else about them.

飽飽的胃能夠很好地激發詩興，事實上，七情六慾中的任何一種都不可能從餓癟的肚子里橫空出世。如果現實中的不幸沒有解決，我們不會有時間和心情去關心幻想中的問題。這就好像如果家裡來了位法警，我們就不會為死去的小鳥唉聲嘆氣；而在根本不知道要從哪裡賺取下一個先令時，我們不會在意情人的笑容是冷淡或熱情，還是不冷不熱，或者與之相關的任何狀態。

Foolish people—when I say "foolish people" in this contemptuous way I mean people who entertain different opinions to mine. If there is one person I do despise more than another, it is the man who does not think exactly the same on all topics as I do—foolish people, I say, then, who have never experienced much of either, will tell you that mental distress is far more agonizing than bodily. Romantic and touching theory! So comforting to the love-sick young sprig who looks down patronizingly at some poor devil with a white starved face and thinks to himself, "Ah, how happy you are compared with me!"—So soothing to fat old gentlemen who cackle about the superiority of poverty over riches. But it is all nonsense— all cant. An aching head soon makes one forget an aching heart. A broken finger will drive away all recollections of an empty chair. And when a man feels really hungry he does not feel anything else.

愚蠢的人——當我用這種輕蔑的語氣說「愚蠢的人」時，我指的是那些和我持不同觀點的傢伙們。如果有什麼人讓我特別瞧不起，那這個人肯定在任何事情上都恰好和我意見相左——愚蠢的人，所以我說的是，那些精神和肉體都沒怎麼經歷過折磨的人，才會告訴你精神上的苦難遠比肉體上的苦痛更加令人難以忍受。這理論多麼浪漫動聽！對於那些為情所困、居高臨下地看著那些餓得面孔發白的窮鬼，然後心想「和我相比，你們幸福多了！」的小夥子們來說，它聽起來多麼令人鼓舞——對於那些喋喋不休，認為窮人比富人擁有更多特權的胖老先生來說，它聽起來又多麼令人寬心。但這全是偽善之言。頭疼會讓人很快忘記心疼；受傷的手指會趕走所有關於人去樓空的惆悵；而當一個人真的感到飢餓的時候，他的任何其他感覺都會消失不見。

We sleek, well-fed folk can hardly realize what feeling hungry is like. We know what it is to have no appetite and not to care for the dainty victuals placed before us, but we do not understand what it means to sicken for food—to die for bread while others waste it—to gaze with famished eyes upon coarse fare steaming behind dingy windows, longing for a pen"orth of pea pudding and not having the penny to buy it—to feel that a crust would be delicious and that a bone would be a banquet.

我們這些腦滿腸肥、豐衣足食的傢伙們很難體會到飢餓的滋味。我們知道面對美味佳肴而興趣乏然、沒有食慾的感覺，但卻不明白什麼是真正的飢餓。真正的飢餓是在別人浪費糧食的時候，你卻可以為了一塊麵包拚命；是用饑渴的目光死盯著骯髒櫥窗里熱氣騰騰的粗劣飯食，想要買份一便士的豌豆布丁，卻連一便士都沒有；是覺得乾麵包片吃起來都十分美味，一塊骨頭就是一頓盛宴。

Hunger is a luxury to us, a piquant, flavor-giving sauce. It is well worth while to get hungry and thirsty merely to discover how much gratification can be obtained from eating and drinking. If you wish to thoroughly enjoy your dinner, take a thirty-mile country walk after breakfast and don"t touch anything till you get back. How your eyes will glisten at sight of the white table-cloth and steaming dishes then! With what a sigh of content you will put down the empty beer tankard and take up your knife and fork! And how comfortable you feel afterward as you push back your chair, light a cigar, and beam round upon everybody.

對於我們來說，飢餓是奢侈品，是刺激食慾、增添滋味的調味醬。只有為發掘吃吃喝喝時的心滿意足而忍飢挨餓，才是物有所值的。假如你想盡情享用一頓晚餐，就得在早飯後到野外走個三十英里，並且在回家前不碰任何東西。這樣，當你看到雪白的桌布和熱氣騰騰的飯菜時，眼睛裡將會閃爍著多麼耀眼的光芒啊！當你放下喝乾的啤酒杯、拿起刀叉時，你會發出多麼心滿意足的嘆息！餐畢推開椅子，點上一支雪茄，微笑著看著周圍的每個人，你會感到多麼的愜意。

Make sure, however, when adopting this plan, that the good dinner is really to be had at the end, or the disappointment is trying. I remember once a friend and I—dear old Joe1, it was. Ah! How we lose one another in life"s mist. It must be eight years since I last saw Joseph Taboys. How pleasant it would be to meet his jovial face again, to clasp his strong hand, and to hear his cheery laugh once more! He owes me 14 shillings, too. Well, we were on a holiday together, and one morning we had breakfast early and started for a tremendous long walk. We had ordered a duck for dinner over night. We said, "Get a big one, because we shall come home awfully hungry;" and as we were going out our landlady came up in great spirits. She said, "I have got you gentlemen a duck, if you like. If you get through that you"ll do well;" and she held up a bird about the size of a door-mat. We chuckled at the sight and said we would try. We said it with self-conscious pride, like men who know their own power. Then we started.

然而，在採取這個計劃時，一定要確保事後肯定有頓好飯菜在等著你，不然，那種失望的感覺真是讓人難受。這讓我想起來有次我和一個朋友——親愛的老喬，是他。啊！我們是怎麼在生活的迷霧中丟失了彼此啊。離我上次見到約瑟夫·塔博伊斯得有八年了。如果能再見到他喜氣洋洋的臉龐，抓住他堅強有力的手，聽到他興高采烈的笑聲，該是多讓人高興的事啊！而且，他還欠我十四個先令呢。是這樣的，那次我們一起去度假，有一天很早就吃了早飯，然後開始長距離的徒步旅行。前一天晚上，我們預訂了一隻鴨子，我們說：「找只大點兒的，因為我們回來的時候一定非常餓。」正要出門的時候，房東太太興高采烈地出現了。她說：「先生們，我照你們的要求給你們弄了只鴨子。如果你們能夠把它全部吃光，那身體肯定特棒。」然後，她舉著一隻門口地墊一般大小的鴨子給我們看。我們一看就笑了起來，然後說我們會努力的，語氣中透著自信的驕傲，彷彿我們對自己的實力瞭然於胸。隨後，我們就出發了。

We lost our way, of course. I always do in the country, and it does make me so wild, because it is no use asking direction of any of the people you meet. One might as well inquire of a lodging-house slavey the way to make beds as expect a country bumpkin to know the road to the next village. You have to shout the question about three times before the sound of your voice penetrates his skull. At the third time he slowly raises his head and stares blankly at you. You yell it at him then for a fourth time, and he repeats it after you. He ponders while you count a couple of hundred, after which, speaking at the rate of three words a minute, he fancies you "couldn"t do better than—」 Here he catches sight of another idiot coming down the road and bawls out to him the particulars, requesting his advice. The two then argue the case for a quarter of an hour or so, and finally agree that you had better go straight down the lane, round to the right and cross by the third stile, and keep to the left by old Jimmy Milcher"s cow-shed, and across the seven-acre field, and through the gate by Squire Grubbin"s hay-stack, keeping the bridle-path for awhile till you come opposite the hill where the windmill used to be—but it"s gone now—and round to the right, leaving Stiggin"s plantation behind you; and you say "Thank you" and go away with a splitting headache, but without the faintest notion of your way, the only clear idea you have on the subject being that somewhere or other there is a stile which has to be got over; and at the next turn you come upon four stiles, all leading in different directions!

當然，我們迷路了。在鄉下，我總是會迷路。這確實讓我氣急敗壞，因為甭管你遇見誰，都別想從他們嘴裡問出路來。指望一個鄉巴佬清清楚楚地告訴你去下個村子的路，就和指望寄宿公寓里的打雜女工懂得怎麼鋪床一樣毫無希望。你得把你的問題大聲重複三遍左右，才有可能讓你的聲音穿透他的腦殼。到了第三遍的時候，他才會不緊不慢地把頭抬起來，兩眼茫然地盯著你。你又沖著他把問題吼了第四遍，他才跟著你重複了一遍問題，然後開始茫然思索。你等著他想好，期間不知道數了幾個一百，之後，他開始用每分鐘三個字的速度說，他覺得你「最好走——」正在這個時候，他突然看到另一個白痴從路上走來，於是大喊大叫地將剛才的詳細情況講給對方聽，讓他提個建議。隨後，這兩個人展開了討論，用了大概一刻鐘的時間才達成一致，認為你最好順著小路直走，然後向右轉，跨越第三個牆梯，沿著老吉米·米爾切的牛棚左邊走，然後穿過一塊七英畝的地，從斯奎爾·格拉賓的乾草堆旁的大門穿過，再沿著小路走一會兒，直到你看見對面有座山，那裡曾有架風車——不過現在沒有了——然後再向右轉，走過斯蒂金的種植園，就到目的地了。你一邊說著「謝謝」，一邊頭痛欲裂地走開。但是，對於路在何方，你還是毫無概念，唯一清晰的記憶是，你在路上的什麼地方必須得跨越一個牆梯。可是一轉彎，你就發現周圍有四個牆梯，分別通往四個不同的方向！

We had undergone this ordeal two or three times. We had tramped over fields. We had waded through brooks and scrambled over hedges and walls. We had had a row as to whose fault it was that we had first lost our way. We had got thoroughly disagreeable, footsore, and weary. But throughout it all the hope of that duck kept us up. A fairylike vision, it floated before our tired eyes and drew us onward. The thought of it was as a trumpet-call to the fainting. We talked of it and cheered each other with our recollections of it. "Come along," we said, "the duck will be spoiled."

一路上，我們大概遭受了二三次這樣的折磨。我們踏過田地，渡過小溪，翻過籬笆和圍牆。我們還大吵了一架，爭論一開始迷路到底是誰的錯。然後我們徹徹底底地陷入了心情惡劣、雙腳酸疼、筋疲力盡的狀態中。但是，從頭到尾，一直是對那隻鴨子的期望讓我們支撐了下來。它就是個精靈般的幻影，它在我們疲倦的眼前晃動，誘惑著我們前進。想到它，我們就像即將昏厥的人聽到了緊急召喚的號角聲。我們談論著它，用對它的回憶為彼此加油鼓勁。「走啊，」我們說，「不然鴨子就要壞了。」

We felt a strong temptation, at one point, to turn into a village inn as we passed and have a cheese and a few loaves between us, but we heroically restrained ourselves: we should enjoy the duck all the better for being famished.

曾經有那麼一刻，我們有極強的衝動，想要衝進途中一家鄉村旅店買一塊乳酪和幾個麵包一起享用，但是最終，我們還是悲壯地控制住了自己：只有餓得頭暈眼花，我們才會倍感那隻鴨子的美味。

We fancied we smelled it when we go into the town and did the last quarter of a mile in three minutes. We rushed upstairs, and washed ourselves, and changed our clothes, and came down, and pulled our chairs up to the table, and sat and rubbed our hands while the landlady removed the covers, when I seized the knife and fork and started to carve.

回到城裡的時候，我們幻想著聞到了鴨子的香味，用了三分鐘就把最後的四分之一英里走完了。我們三步並作兩步地衝上樓梯，把自己洗得乾乾淨淨，換了衣服，下了樓，將椅子搬到餐桌前，坐下來摩拳擦掌。房東太太一揭開蓋子，我便抓起刀叉，開始將那鴨子大卸八塊。

It seemed to want a lot of carving. I struggled with it for about five minutes without making the slightest impression, and then Joe, who had been eating potatoes, wanted to know if it wouldn"t be better for some one to do the job that understood carving. I took no notice of his foolish remark, but attacked the bird again; and so vigorously this time that the animal left the dish and took refuge in the fender.

但是，鴨子似乎不那麼好切。我折騰了大約五分鐘，還是沒能在它身上留下哪怕一點刀印兒。這時，在一邊兒吃著土豆的喬發話了，他問我是不是該讓真正懂刀法的人來做這工作。對於他這愚蠢的評論，我理都沒理，再次對鴨子發起進攻。但這一次我用力過猛了，鴨子直接飛出盤子，躲到火爐圍欄里不出來了。

We soon had it out of that, though, and I was prepared to make another effort. But Joe was getting unpleasant. He said that if he had thought we were to have a game of blind hockey with the dinner he would have got a bit of bread and cheese outside.

不過我們很快就把它從那裡弄了出來，我又準備開始新一輪的努力，但是喬開始不高興了。他說假如早知道我們會用晚餐食品打一場盲人曲棍球，他還不如在外面吃點麵包和乳酪。

I was too exhausted to argue. I laid down the knife and fork with dignity and took a side seat and Joe went for the wretched creature. He worked away in silence for awhile, and then he muttered "Damn the duck" and took his coat off.

我已經筋疲力盡，無力與他爭辯了。所以我泰然自若地放下刀叉，坐到了一邊，然後喬走向了那隻可惡的東西。他默默無語地苦幹了半天，嘟囔了一聲「該死的鴨子」，然後脫掉了外套。

We did break the thing up at length with the aid of a chisel, but it was perfectly impossible to eat it, and we had to make a dinner off the vegetables and an apple tart. We tried a mouthful of the duck, but it was like eating India-rubber.

最終，我們還是在一把鑿子的協助下把這東西鑿開了。但鴨子已經完完全全沒法吃了，我們只能用蔬菜和一個蘋果餡餅湊合了一頓。我們嘗了一口鴨肉，但感覺像在嚼一塊印度橡膠。

It was a wicked sin to kill that drake. But there! There"s no respect for old institutions in this country.

把那隻公鴨殺掉，真是罪孽深重。可是啊！這個國家本來就缺少對古老習俗的尊重。

I started this paper with the idea of writing about eating and drinking, but I seem to have confined my remarks entirely to eating as yet. Well, you see, drinking is one of those subjects with which it is inadvisable to appear too well acquainted. The days are gone by when it was considered manly to go to bed intoxicated every night, and a clear head and a firm hand no longer draw down upon their owner the reproach of effeminacy. On the contrary, in these sadly degenerate days an evil-smelling breath, a blotchy face, a reeling gait, and a husky voice are regarded as the hall marks of the cad rather than or the gentleman.

一開始寫這篇文章的時候，我是想寫寫吃與喝這兩個主題的，但至今為止，卻似乎完全局限在了吃上。這個嘛，你看，對某些話題顯得太過駕輕就熟是不明智的，飲酒就是其中之一。每晚大醉酩酊地倒在床上以顯示男子氣概的時代已經過去了，清醒的頭腦和穩固的手掌也不會再給男人招來娘娘腔的指責。恰恰相反，在這個日益腐化得令人悲哀的世界中，酒氣熏天、臉頰污漬斑斑、腳步趔趄、聲音嘶啞才是無賴的標誌，而與紳士毫不相干。

Even nowadays, though, the thirstiness of mankind is something supernatural. We are forever drinking on one excuse or another. A man never feels comfortable unless he has a glass before him. We drink before meals, and with meals, and after meals. We drink when we meet a friend, also when we part from a friend. We drink when we are talking, when we are reading, and when we are thinking. We drink one another"s healths and spoil our own. We drink the queen, and the army, and the ladies, and everybody else that is drinkable; and I believe if the supply ran short we should drink our mothers-in-law.

然而即使到了現在，人們的口渴程度仍然是超乎尋常的。我們永遠在找這個或那個借口喝酒。面前若沒有一個酒杯，人就永遠不會舒服。我們在餐前喝酒，在用餐的時候喝酒，在餐後還要喝酒。我們和朋友見面要喝酒，和朋友分別也要喝酒。我們聊天的時候喝酒，讀書的時候喝酒，思考的時候還要喝酒。我們為彼此的健康乾杯，卻喝壞了自己的健康。我們為女王、為軍隊、為親愛的女士們舉杯，還有其他可以成為喝酒原因的每一個人；我相信如果實在找不到人了，我們甚至可以為我們的丈母娘而喝。

By the way, we never eat anybody"s health, always drink it. Why should we not stand up now and then and eat a tart to somebody"s success?

順便提一句，我們從來不為祝福他人的健康而吃飯，卻每每都是通過喝酒。為什麼不能偶爾站起身來，吃塊水果餡餅祝福某人的成功呢？

To me, I confess the constant necessity of drinking under which the majority of men labor is quite unaccountable. I can understand people drinking to drown care or to drive away maddening thoughts well enough. I can understand the ignorant masses loving to soak themselves in drink—oh, yes, it"s very shocking that they should, of course—very shocking to us who live in cozy homes, with all the graces and pleasures of life around us, that the dwellers in damp cellars and windy attics should creep from their dens of misery into the warmth and glare of the public-house bar, and seek to fl oat for a brief space away from their dull world upon a Lethe stream of gin.

就我而言，我承認大多數人挖空心思想出來的經常喝酒的必要性是很難讓人理解的。我很能理解那些為了驅散煩惱、擺脫痛苦而喝酒的人，我也能理解那些喜歡泡在酒罐子里的無知民眾——噢，是的，他們這樣很不像話，當然——對我們來說十分不可思議，我們住在溫暖舒適的房子里，享盡生活中的美好和快樂，自然不理解那些住在陰冷的地下室和漏風的閣樓里的人們，為什麼要從他們的蓬門蓽戶中爬出來，溜到溫暖而明亮的酒吧中去，在杜松子酒潺潺流淌的忘憂河上偷得浮生半日閑，遠離他們那灰暗壓抑的世界。

But think, before you hold up your hands in horror at their ill-living, what "life" for these wretched creatures really means. Picture the squalid misery of their brutish existence, dragged on from year to year in the narrow, noisome room where, huddled like vermin in sewers, they welter, and sicken, and sleep; where dirt-grimed children scream and fight and sluttish, shrill-voiced women cuff, and curse, and nag; where the street outside teems with roaring filth and the house around is a bedlam of riot and stench.

但是在你為他們糟糕的生活震驚得舉起雙手之前，想一想，對於這些可憐的傢伙們來說，「生活」意味著什麼。想像一下他們那豬狗不如的生活是多麼痛苦而悲慘吧：在那狹窄而氣味難聞的房間里，他們年復一年地蝸居著，像下水道里的臭蟲聚在一起，在裡面吃喝拉撒，生老病死；在那裡，髒兮兮的小孩子們一邊尖叫一邊打鬧，尖聲尖氣的邋遢女人挽起袖子罵人，嘴裡喋喋不休；在那裡，外面的街道布滿了翻滾的灰塵，周圍的房子充斥著暴力和惡臭。

Think what a sapless stick this fair flower of life must be to them, devoid of mind and soul. The horse in his stall scents the sweet hay and munches the ripe corn contentedly. The watch-dog in his kennel blinks at the grateful sun, dreams of a glorious chase over the dewy fields, and wakes with a yelp of gladness to greet a caressing hand. But the clod-like life of these human logs never knows one ray of light. From the hour when they crawl from their comfortless bed to the hour when they lounge back into it again they never live one moment of real life. Recreation, amusement, companionship, they know not the meaning of. Joy, sorrow, laughter, tears, love, friendship, longing, despair, are idle words to them. From the day when their baby eyes first look out upon their sordid world to the day when, with an oath, they close them forever and their bones are shoveled out of sight, they never warm to one touch of human sympathy, never thrill to a single thought, never start to a single hope. In the name of the God of mercy; let them pour the maddening liquor down their throats and feel for one brief moment that they live!

想想看，沒有了靈魂和思想，這朵美麗的生命之花對他們來說該是多麼乾癟的一根枯枝。馬廄里的馬聞到了乾草的香氣，心滿意足地嚼著嘴裡的老玉米。狗窩裡的看家狗，眯著眼看著溫暖宜人的太陽，做了個在掛滿露珠的田野上盡情奔跑的夢，然後在溫柔的撫摸下幸福地叫了一聲，緩緩醒來。然而在這些木頭人那行屍走肉般的生活中，卻從未出現過一絲光亮。從他們爬出自己僵硬床鋪的那一刻開始，到他們再躺回去的那一刻為止，他們沒有片刻是在真正地生活。休閑、娛樂、歡聚，他們不知道這些詞的含義。快樂、憂傷、歡笑、眼淚、愛情、友誼、渴望、絕望，對他們來說都是毫無意義的詞語。從他們在襁褓中第一次睜開眼睛，看向他們那個醜陋世界的那一天起，到他們最後詛咒一聲並永遠地合上雙目，屍骨被鏟得不知所蹤為止，他們從來沒有被人間溫情打動過，從來沒有為任何想法激動過，也從來沒有因任何希望振奮過。以仁慈的上帝的名義，就讓他們將那令人發狂的酒倒入喉中，在那短暫的瞬間感受到自己是在真正地生活吧！

Ah! We may talk sentiment as much as we like, but the stomach is the real seat of happiness in this world. The kitchen is the chief temple wherein we worship, its roaring fire is our vestal flame, and the cook is our great high-priest. He is a mighty magician and a kindly one. He soothes away all sorrow and care. He drives forth all enmity, gladdens all love. Our God is great and the cook is his prophet. Let us eat, drink, and be merry.

啊！我們可以盡情地談論情感，但是，胃才是這個世界上真正的快樂棲息地。廚房是我們進行膜拜的殿堂，熊熊燃燒的廚火是我們貞潔的聖火，而廚師就是我們偉大的祭司。他是個技藝高超的魔術師，而且平易近人。他安撫了我們所有的悲傷和顧慮，他趕走了所有的恨，迎來了所有的愛。我們的上帝至高無上，而廚師就是他的傳旨者。就讓我們吃吃喝喝、快快樂樂地生活吧！

(1)喬，下文約瑟夫·塔博伊斯的昵稱。

本文摘自：懶人閑思錄

《懶人閑思錄》出自英國幽默名家傑羅姆之手，這位「懶人」思想家善於從「懶人」的視角靜觀眾生世相。平談的生活細節一進入他的文章，就會妙趣盎然，栩栩如生。在這些文章中傑羅姆運用幽默冷峻的筆觸展現了19世紀英格蘭的社會風貌。

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