最后一片叶子剧本the last leaf

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The last leaf 剧本

The last leaf  剧本

The last leafPart1.IntroductionPart2.actionScene 1V oiceove r: Sue and Johnsy are two young artists living togetherat the top of a three-story brick building. Beneath their joint studio lives Old Berhrman,an old artist who regards himself as guard dog to the young girls.One day,Sue went downstairs to visit Old Behrman. Sue:Mr. Behrman, Jonhsy isn’t well.and She...she said she would turn loose her hold on everything and go like the falling leaves.(cry)Mr. Behrman: What?! Oh, what a silly girl.Is there anythingwrong with her?Sue:(sigh)here is the story.Scene 2V oiceove r:It atarted on a very very cold night in November,a stranger came to this city quietly.Pneumonia :I am Pneumonia.a terrifying disease.Almosteveryone is afraid of me! (LAUGH)You want to ask me what do i want to do this night?I want play some little tiny tricks on my poor friends.Oh, yes.I decide to make many people fell victim to pneumonia....oh,look at this merry young artist..A definItely good choice!JOHNSY Falls Down. Sue runs to her quickly.Sue:oh,my dear god! honey, what's wrong with you?Johnsy:(weak) I don't know.I just feel so tired ..I am even unable to sit up.Sue:Johnsy,you know what, don't worry.I will send for the doctor to come over.Doctor comes in , exams Johnsy and invites Sue into the hallway.Doctor:Sue,I have to talk to you about the condition of yourfriend, Joanna. To be honest, she has only one chance in ten and that depends on how she struggle against the disease. But your little l ady has made up her mind that she’s not going to get well. You really need to take care of her.Sue:Okay,thank you.Sue walks towards Johnsy.Johnsy:(in a whisper)eight...seven...six...five...... Meanwhile,the tree drops its leaves to 5.Sue:five what,dear?Johnsy:five leaves.On the ivy vine. You know, they’re falling faster now. When the last one falls I must go.Scene 3(Back to Behrman's room)V oiceover:H aving told Mr. Behrman Johnsy' situation,Sue feels so sad and worried.Sue:So,this is what happened.I am now quite fearthat..that ..Johnsy will...(sob)Behrman:what?are there people in the world foolish enough todie because leaves drop off from a vine?I have never heard of such a thing!Why do you allow such silly ideas to come intoher head?God!Sue:I...don't know how....Behrman:(interrupt)This is not a place in which one so good as Miss Johnsy should lie sick.Ridiculous!It’s maybe the time for me to draw a masterpiece! Yes, I won’t let she go! Now, show me the ivy vine.Sue: Here the way.。

【英文原版小说】欧·亨利短篇小说-TheLastLeaf最后一片叶子

【英文原版小说】欧·亨利短篇小说-TheLastLeaf最后一片叶子

The Last Leaf最后一片叶子IIn a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!So, to quaint old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a "colony."At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d'h?te of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted.That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers.Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places."Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, grey eyebrow."She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. " And that chance is for her to want to live. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well.Has she anything on her mind?""She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day." said Sue."Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?""A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in her voice. "Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind.""Well, it is the weakness, then," said the doctor. "I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten."After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.Johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward."Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven", almost together.Sue look solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away.An old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks."What is it, dear?" asked Sue."Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy.There goes another one. There are only five left now.""Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie.""Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?""Oh, I never heard of such nonsense," complained Sue, with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don't be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that's almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride on the street cars or walk past a new building. Try to take some broth now, and let Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and pork chops for her greedy self." "You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another. No, I don't want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too.""Johnsy, dear," said Sue, bending over her, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the shade down.""Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly."I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves.""Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as fallen statue, "because I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.""Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til I come back."Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a Michael Angelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp. Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe.He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings."Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in de world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy.""She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet.""You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott! yes."Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill, and motioned Behrman into the other room. In there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a moment without speaking. A persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with snow. Behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his seat as the hermit miner on an upturned kettle for a rock.When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade."Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in a whisper.Wearily Sue obeyed.But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground."It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall to-day, and I shall die at the same time.""Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down to the pillow, "think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"But Johnsy did not answer. The lonesomest thing in all the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious, far journey. The fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one by one the ties that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed.The day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to itsstem against the wall. And then, with the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed, while the rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low Dutch eaves. When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised.The ivy leaf was still there.Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove."I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to want to die. You may bring a me a little broth now, and some milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows about me, and I will sit up and watch you cook."And hour later she said:"Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left. "Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's thin, shaking hand in his. "With good nursing you'll win." And now I must see another case I have downstairs. Behrman, his name is - some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made more comfortable."The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now - that's all."And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, contentedly knitting a very blue and very useless woollen shoulder scarf, and put one arm around her, pillows and all."I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital. He was ill only two days. The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colours mixed on it, and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece - he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."在华盛顿广场西边的一个小区里,街道都横七竖八地伸展开去,又分裂成一小条一小条的“胡同”。

最后一片叶子The-Last-Leaf-赏析

最后一片叶子The-Last-Leaf-赏析

最后一片叶子T h e-L a s t-L e a f-赏析(总4页)--本页仅作为文档封面,使用时请直接删除即可----内页可以根据需求调整合适字体及大小--最后一片叶子The Last Leaf 赏析【摘要】美国著名短篇小说家欧·亨利《最后一片叶子》描写了一个已经濒于死亡的贫穷女画家乔安西因为一片永不凋落的常春藤叶而恢复健康的离奇故事,塑造了一个命运不济,但品德高尚的老画家贝尔门的形象,歌颂了他舍己为人的崇高精神,从而唱出了一曲生命与希望的赞歌,歌颂了人性的美与善。

《最后一片叶子》作为欧·亨利的代表作,充分体现了这位“世界短篇小说之王”的创作特色。

文中作者着力挖掘和赞美小人物的伟大人格和高尚品德,展示他们向往人性世界的美好愿望The Novel "The Last Leaf" is about a young girl decidesthat she will die when the last leaf drops from a dying vine outside her window, as lingering pneumonia slowly takes her will to live. Her neighbor, Art Carney, is an elderly artist frustrated by his inability to paint what is in his heart. In an attempt to save the young girl, he creates the masterpiece he has been struggling to paint. A beautifully shot and moving story. This excellent short novel is my favorite story. Art Carney does a great job, although his character is French in this version, as opposed to the German character in the book. and just like the book,it truly touched the heart of its reader.【关键词】生命;希望;赞歌;一、希望的使者“当最后一片叶子落下时,生命就都结束了,我也得离开这个世界而去了”,女画家乔安西,患了肺炎濒临大限时,丧失了生的希望,她天天躺在床上望着窗外长春藤上的叶子想:等到最后一片叶子凋零时,我的生命也就走到了尽头。

【英语作文】最后一片叶子 The Last Leaf

【英语作文】最后一片叶子 The Last Leaf

【英语作文】最后一片叶子The Last Leaf故事发生在一座小城市的一栋老旧的公寓楼里。

在这座公寓楼中住着两位年轻的女艺术家,分别是苏西和约翰娜。

她们分别来到这个城市,希望能够追寻到自己的梦想。

公寓楼中有一位老画家,他的名字叫比尔•比尔灵。

比尔灵是一位孤身一人的老人,他的画作让人们津津乐道。

而在公寓楼的对面有一栋墙,平时是光秃秃的,可是在秋天,墙上开始长满了彩色的葡萄叶。

每一片叶子都是红、黄、绿相间,非常美丽,难怪苏西和约翰娜会喜欢上这栋公寓楼。

秋天来临的时候,比尔灵生病了。

医生说他得了重病,只能在家静养。

比尔灵的病情每况愈下,这让苏西和约翰娜非常担心。

而比尔灵的病情也让她们开始意识到生命与健康的脆弱。

公寓中的秋叶渐渐凋零,就像比尔灵的生命一样。

直到有一天,一场大雨打湿了公寓楼外的藤蔓,彩叶纷纷掉落。

比尔灵的状况越来越不好,他整夜的发热,整夜的不停地颤抖。

雨停了,苏西和约翰娜看见对面的墙上只剩下了一片叶子,她们感到绝望,同时也为比尔灵祈祷。

奇迹却出现在这片叶子上。

叶子一片一片地掉落,只剩下了最后一片,而比尔灵的情况也突然好转。

原来,比尔灵每天数落墙上的叶子数量,他说自己的生命和墙上的叶子一样,当墙上的叶子全部掉光的时候,他的生命也将走到尽头。

因此他一直在等待着最后一片叶子掉落,然而他也想看看最后这一片是否会掉。

苏西和约翰娜也被比尔灵的坚持和乐观所感染,她们也开始为比尔灵祈祷。

就在比尔灵病情转好的那天,最后一片叶子却依然挂在墙上,没有掉落。

比尔灵在发现这一幕后,深受感动,他知道这是一个奇迹,是上帝的恩典。

最后一片叶子挂在墙上,成为了比尔灵生命的象征,也成为了一场奇迹的见证。

这个故事告诉我们生命的可贵,无论是什么时候都不应该轻言放弃。

这个故事也向我们展示了友情和爱的力量。

苏西和约翰娜因为对比尔灵的关心和祈祷,成全了这个奇迹。

这个故事给人们带来了启示,让人们明白生命的伟大和奇迹的存在。

这个小故事,是对生命的讴歌,是对希望的呼唤,是对友情和爱情的赞美。

Thelastleaf最后一片叶子

Thelastleaf最后一片叶子

Thelastleaf最后一片叶子作者:谢飞来源:《中学生英语·学生综合天地》2012年第11期《最后一片叶子》,也译为《最后的常春藤叶》是美国著名批判现实主义作家欧·亨利(O.Henry)的代表作之一。

他是世界三大短篇小说大师之一,他善于挖掘和赞美小人物的伟大人格和高尚品德,展现他们向往人性世界的美好愿望。

本故事让我们为琼西的命运紧张了一番,为苏的友谊感叹了一回,为贝尔曼的博爱震撼了一次。

1.In a little district west of Washington Square,Sue and Johnsy had their studio at the top of a squatty,three-story brick.在华盛顿广场西边的一个小区里,苏和琼西的画室设在一所又宽又矮的三层楼砖房的顶楼上。

2.“Johnsy”was familiar for Joanna.One was from Maine;the otherfrom California.They had met at a Caféin the street in May and found they had a lot in common,so they rented the joint studio.“琼西”是琼娜的昵称。

她俩一个来自缅因州,一个来自加利福尼亚州。

她们五月在街上的咖啡厅相遇,发现彼此有很多相同之处,便合租了那间画室。

3.In November,Pneumonia spread in the district,many people were contracted,and Johnsy was one of the victims.She lay on her bed,scarcely moving,looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.到了11月,肺炎在这个区蔓延,很多人都感染了,琼西也患上了可怕的肺炎。

The last leaf【总稿】

The last leaf【总稿】

The last leaf[剧本]【佳玲Aside】At the top of a three-story brick building ,Sue, Linda and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; and others from California. They have been bosom friends since they met at a cafe for the first time.That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Johnsy was among his victims. She lay, scarcely moving, on her bed, looking through the small window.【Scene one】【佳玲Aside】One morning the busy doctor invited Sue and Linda into the hallway with a shaggy, gray eyebrow.【楚标Doctor】(一边看病历一边说) She has one chance in ten.And that chance is for her to want to live.(抬头,疑惑地)Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?【丹媛Sue】(看了Linda一眼)She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day.【楚标Doctor】Paint? (不可思议的样子)- bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?【丘清Linda】A man?(疑惑地,提高音调)Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind.【楚标Doctor】(严肃地)Well.I will do all that science can accomplish. But if my patient does not have the hope to live, I can do nothing to help.(转身离开)(Sue在一旁哭泣,Linda拍拍她的肩膀,然后Sue擦干眼泪,两人一起走进房间,看向Johnsy)【锦桃Johnsy】(静静地躺在床上,不动,看着窗外,小声倒数) Twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven.【佳玲Aside】What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away.【锦桃Johnsy】(很虚弱)Six.(低头)They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy. (再次看向窗外)There goes another one. There are only five left now.【丹媛Sue】(抬头看窗外)Five what, dear?【锦桃Johnsy】Leaves. On the ivy vine.(目光投向树枝)When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?【丘清Linda】Oh, I never heard of such nonsense.(满不在乎地)What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? Don't be so silly.【丹媛Sue】Why, the doctor told us this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were ten to one!(试着说服Johnsy) Now, let's take some soup now.and buy port wine for her sick child. 【锦桃Johnsy】You needn't get any more wine.(一直凝视着窗外)There goes another. No, I don't want any soup. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark.(低头)Then I'll go, too.【丹媛Sue】Try to sleep.(折一折被角)I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old miner. 【丘清Linda】We won't be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til we come back."*场景转换*【Scene two】【秋荣Aside】Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them.He was past sixty and had a long white beard curling down over his chest. Despite looking the part, Behrman was a failure in art.Sue and Linda found Behrman smelling strongly of gin in his dimly lighted studio below. They told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.【燕芬Behrman】What?!(轻蔑地笑)Are there people in the world foolish enough to die because leaves drop off from a vine?I have never heard of such a thing. God! This is not a place in which one so good as Miss Johnsy should lie sick.Some day I will paint a masterpiece ,and we shall all go away.Yes.(Behrman和Sue, Linda一起走进病房,Johnsy在睡觉。

英语日记带翻译:最后一片叶子TheLastLeaf

英语日记带翻译:最后一片叶子TheLastLeaf

The Last Leaf is a short story written by O Henry, Settled in Greenwich Village. Its depicts characters and themes are typically ofO Henry’s work.最后一片叶子是由住在格林威治村的欧亨利写的一个短篇故事。

它所描写的人物和主题是欧亨利的经典作品。

Johnsy has fallen ill and is dying of pneumonia. She watches the leaves falling from the window of her room, and decides that when the last leaf drops, she will die, too. To encourage her, Mr. Behrman painted the last leaf in a stormy night but he died of pneumonia because of his efforts in the storm.琼西已经生病了而且将要死于肺炎。

她从她房间的窗户上看着叶子坠落,并认定当最后一片叶子掉下来的时候,她就会死。

为了鼓励她,贝尔曼先生在一个风雨交加的夜晚画了最后一片叶子,但他却由于在风暴中的努力而死于肺炎。

This is a sad story about sacrifice as well as a moving story about hope. Likewise, we can learn about something from this story, something that totally different from each other.这是一个关于牺牲的伤感故事同时也是关于希望的感人故事。

而且我们也可以从这个故事中学到一些东西,一些完全不一样的东西。

(整理)The_last_leaf(最后一片叶子中文翻译)

(整理)The_last_leaf(最后一片叶子中文翻译)

(整理)The_last_leaf(最后一片叶子中文翻译)The last leaf中文译文注:这是欧·亨利小说原文的中文译文,仅供参考。

在华盛顿广场西边的一个小区里,街道都横七竖八地伸展开去,又分裂成一小条一小条的“胡同”。

这些“胡同”稀奇古怪地拐着弯子。

一条街有时自己本身就交叉了不止一次。

有一回一个画家发现这条街有一种优越性:要是有个收帐的跑到这条街上,来催要颜料、纸张和画布的钱,他就会突然发现自己两手空空,原路返回,一文钱的帐也没有要到!所以,不久之后不少画家就摸索到这个古色古香的老格林尼治村来,寻求朝北的窗户、18世纪的尖顶山墙、荷兰式的阁楼,以及低廉的房租。

然后,他们又从第六街买来一些蜡酒杯和一两只火锅,这里便成了“艺术区”。

苏和琼西的画室设在一所又宽又矮的三层楼砖房的顶楼上。

“琼西”是琼娜的爱称。

她俩一个来自缅因州,一个是加利福尼亚州人。

她们是在第八街的“台尔蒙尼歌之家”吃份饭时碰到的,她们发现彼此对艺术、生菜色拉和时装的爱好非常一致,便合租了那间画室。

那是5月里的事。

到了11月,一个冷酷的、肉眼看不见的、医生们叫做“肺炎”的不速之客,在艺术区里悄悄地游荡,用他冰冷的手指头这里碰一下那里碰一下。

在广场东头,这个破坏者明目张胆地踏着大步,一下子就击倒几十个受害者,可是在迷宫一样、狭窄而铺满青苔的“胡同”里,他的步伐就慢了下来。

肺炎先生不是一个你们心目中行侠仗义的老的绅士。

一个身子单薄,被加利福尼亚州的西风刮得没有血色的弱女子,本来不应该是这个有着红拳头的、呼吸急促的老家伙打击的对象。

然而,琼西却遭到了打击;她躺在一张油漆过的铁床上,一动也不动,凝望着小小的荷兰式玻璃窗外对面砖房的空墙。

一天早晨,那个忙碌的医生扬了扬他那毛茸茸的灰白色眉毛,把苏叫到外边的走廊上。

“我看,她的病只有十分之一的恢复希望,”他一面把体温表里的水银柱甩下去,一面说,“这一分希望就是她想要活下去的念头。

有些人好像不愿意活下去,喜欢照顾殡仪馆的生意,简直让整个医药界都无能为力。

The last leaf 剧本

The last leaf 剧本

The last leaf (最后一片叶子)剧本Scene 1It was the deep autumn of New York. The life there was not as bustling and noisy as it used to be. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. In a cabin located in the western part of Washington square, a mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs became another victim of him. Unfortunately, it was Johnsy. And she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, grey eyebrow.D:"She has one chance in - let us say, ten," (边说边甩着体温表)"And that chance is for her to want to live. But it seems your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?" S:"She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day."D:"Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?"S:"A man? Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind."(扯着嗓子)D:"Well, it is the weakness, then, I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten.(医生走开,苏珊低声啜泣,而后故作镇定地拿着画板进入房间)S:Johnsy.J: Oh,here you come back,Sudie.(有气无力)S:Yes,dear. (走到她床边,握着她的手)J: Has the doctor gone?S: Umm. Well, if it wasn’t me who led him the way, I’m afraid….I’m afraid he would be stuck in the missing alley!(含着怨气)J: Twelve,eleven,ten……S: Johnsy, What are you counting for?J: "Six," (用气音)"They're falling faster now. Oh, there goes another one. There are only five left now."S: Five what, my dear?J: "Leaves. On the ivy vine. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy.(伤感)S: Oh, don’t do things like that! I’ll pull the shade down so that you won’t catch a cold.J: No! Please don’t, Sue…S: OK,OK, I’ll keep off the curtain. Then lie down my dear, just do not count those leaves any more.J: Poor leaves. There will be none left before long. And would a girl like me who’s about to go to the heaven be afraid of catching cold? No, certainly not.S: Oh, I’ve never heard of such nonsense. The doctor have just said that you’re getting well. How could a slight illness like this do harm to you since you are so young and charming? That’s exactly what the doctor told me!J:Sue, look at me. Don’t deny that you’ve wept. If I were going to recover, why would your face be covered with tears? I’ m not silly. I’ve read the newspaper. The pneumonia caused by flu have taken away so many people’s lives and I….I’ll be the next.旁白:琼西脸色惨白,静静地躺着,活像一尊倒塌下来的塑像,她闭上眼睛说……Johnsy opened her mouth, with her eyes closed, and lying white and still as fallen statue.J: Because I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.S: My child, don’t be so silly. What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? How can you link your life with a small ivy leaf? Please do not say things like that. I’ll never let you speak that sort of words, Johnsy.J: Sue, please don’t blame me. Neither do I want to leave you as well as the beautiful world. However, I’ve tried my best to defend, like the weak leaf. I believe it doesn’t want to fall down, but how could it survive without any strength?S: No, Johnsy. Throw away the leaves from your brain, ok? Let’s think about something marvelous. Let’s think about the Bay of Naples, the motherland of VG, and the SN River in Paris.J: Oh, that’s right. We’ve engaged to travel around the Europe together and realize our artistic dreams.S:Yes, and to save up for that, we cut back daily expenses, never dine out, never buy fashionable clothes and keep off any banquet.J:(转头看窗外) There fall down another leaf and only 3 left. Tomorrow…tomorrow there’ll be none left.S: Johnsy, I beg you! Please don’t count the leaves any more.旁白:老贝尔门是住在楼下底层的一个画家。

The Last Leaf( 最后一片叶子)

The Last Leaf( 最后一片叶子)

Main idea of the story
What happened to Johnsy?
“In November, pneumonia came to that part of the city. Many people caught it, and Johnsy was among them.”
2. Surprising ending:
What happened to the old Behrman?
The Theme of the story
Human Touch Power of Belief Self-sacrifice(自我牺牲)
What is human touch?
Human touch is the love, care, friendship and concern of people towards each other.
“She was looking out of the window and was counting… There was a wall covered with an old vine growing half way up it.” “When the last leaf falls, I must go, too.”
Self-sacrifice: the greatness in humanity
Old Behrman sacrificed his own life to save Johnsy. He is a hero!
In our real life, many people choose to make sacrifices for the persons and things they care.

最后一片叶子(中英对照)之欧阳治创编

最后一片叶子(中英对照)之欧阳治创编

最后一片叶子(欧亨利小说)编辑《最后一片叶子》,一译《最后的常春藤叶》,主人公是琼西、苏艾、贝尔曼。

文中作者着力挖掘和赞美小人物的伟大人格和高尚品德,展示他们向往人性世界的美好愿望。

最后一片叶子”的故事,着实让我们为琼西的命运紧张了一番,为苏艾的友谊感叹了一回,为贝尔曼的博爱震撼了一次。

作者通过对穷苦朋友间友谊的描写,刻画出一个舍己为人的以自己生命为代价创造真正杰作的画家形象,讴歌了以贝尔曼为代表的普通人的高尚。

书名最后一片叶子又名最后的常春藤叶作者欧·亨利原版名称The Last Leaf装帧平装开本161作者简介▪生平▪手法2作品内容3作品原文▪中文原文▪英文原文4作品赏析作者简介编辑生平1862年9月11日,美国最著名的短篇小说家之——欧·亨利(O.Henry)出生于美国北卡罗来纳州有个名叫格林斯波罗的小镇。

曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父。

1862年他出身于美国北卡罗来纳州格林斯波罗镇一个医师家庭。

父亲是医生。

他原名威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter)。

他所受教育不多,15岁便开始在药房当学徒,20岁时由于健康原因去德克萨斯州的一个牧场当了两年牧牛人,积累了对西部生活的亲身经验。

1884年以后做过会计员、土地局办事员、新闻记者。

此后,他在德克萨斯做过不同的工作,包括在奥斯汀银行当出纳员。

他还办过一份名为《滚石》的幽默周刊,并在休斯敦一家日报上发表幽默小说和趣闻逸事。

1887年,亨利结婚并生了一个女儿。

正当他的生活颇为安定之时,却发生了一件改变他命运的事情。

1896年,奥斯汀银行指控他在任职期间盗用资金。

他为了躲避受审,逃往洪都拉斯。

1897年,后因回家探视病危的妻子被捕入狱,判处5年徒刑。

在狱中曾担任药剂师,他创作第一部作品的起因是为了给女儿买圣诞礼物,但基于犯人的身份不敢使用真名,乃用一部法国药典的编者的名字作为笔名,在《麦克吕尔》杂志发表。

最后一片叶子(中英对照)

最后一片叶子(中英对照)

最后一片叶子〔欧亨利小说〕编辑《最后一片叶子》,一译《最后的常春藤叶》,主人公是琼西、苏艾、贝尔曼。

文中作者着力挖掘和赞美小人物的伟大人格和高尚品德,展示他们向往人性世界的美好愿望。

最后一片叶子〞的故事,着实让我们为琼西的命运紧X了一番,为苏艾的友谊感叹了一回,为贝尔曼的博爱震撼了一次。

作者通过对穷苦朋友间友谊的描写,刻画出一个舍己为人的以自己生命为代价创造真正杰作的画家形象,讴歌了以贝尔曼为代表的普通人的高尚。

书名最后一片叶子又名最后的常春藤叶作者欧·亨利原版名称The Last Leaf装帧平装开本161作者简介▪生平▪手法2作品内容3作品原文▪中文原文▪英文原文4作品赏析作者简介编辑生平1862年9月11日,美国最著名的短篇小说家之——欧·亨利〔O.Henry〕出生于美国北卡罗来纳州有个名叫格林斯波罗的小镇。

曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父。

1862年他出身于美国北卡罗来纳州格林斯波罗镇一个医师家庭。

父亲是医生。

他原名威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter)。

他所受教育不多,15岁便开始在药房当学徒,20岁时由于健康原因去德克萨斯州的一个牧场当了两年牧牛人,积累了对西部生活的亲身经验。

1884年以后做过会计员、土地局办事员、新闻记者。

此后,他在德克萨斯做过不同的工作,包括在奥斯汀银行当出纳员。

他还办过一份名为《滚石》的幽默周刊,并在休斯敦一家日报上发表幽默小说和趣闻逸事。

1887年,亨利结婚并生了一个女儿。

正当他的生活颇为安定之时,却发生了一件改变他命运的事情。

1896年,奥斯汀银行指控他在任职期间盗用资金。

他为了躲避受审,逃往洪都拉斯。

1897年,后因回家探视病危的妻子被捕入狱,判处5年徒刑。

在狱中曾担任药剂师,他创作第一部作品的起因是为了给女儿买圣诞礼物,但基于犯人的身份不敢使用真名,乃用一部法国药典的编者的名字作为笔名,在《麦克吕尔》杂志发表。

The last leaf(最后一片叶子)

The last leaf(最后一片叶子)

Many artists lived in the Greenwich Village area of New York. Two young women named Sue and Johnsy shared a studio apartment at the top of a three-story building. Johnsy's real name was Joanna.In November, a cold, unseen stranger came to visit the city. This disease, pneumonia, killed many people. Johnsy lay on her bed, hardly moving. She looked through the small window. She could see the side of the brick house next to her building.One morning, a doctor examined Johnsy and took her temperature. Then he spoke with Sue in another room."She has one chance in -- let us say ten," he said. "And that chance is for her to want to live. Your friend has made up her mind that she is not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?""She -- she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples in Italy some day," said Sue."Paint?" said the doctor. "Bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice -- a man for example?""A man?" said Sue. "Is a man worth -- but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind.""I will do all that science can do," said the doctor. "But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages at her funeral, I take away fifty percent from the curative power of medicines."After the doctor had gone, Sue went into the workroom and cried. Then she went to Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.Johnsy lay with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep. She began making a pen and ink drawing for a story in a magazine. Young artists must work their way to "Art" by making pictures for magazine stories. Sue heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting -- counting backward. "Twelve," she said, and a little later "eleven"; and then "ten" and "nine;" and then "eight" and "seven," almost together.Sue looked out the window. What was there to count? There was only an empty yard and the blank side of the house seven meters away. An oldivy vine, going bad at the roots, climbed half way up the wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken leaves from the plant until its branches, almost bare, hung on the bricks."What is it, dear?" asked Sue."Six," said Johnsy, quietly. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head hurt to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now.""Five what, dear?" asked Sue."Leaves. On the plant. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?""Oh, I never heard of such a thing," said Sue. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine. Don't be silly. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were -- let's see exactly what he said ¨C he said the chances were ten to one! Try to eat some soup now. And, let me go back to my drawing, so I can sell it to the magazine and buy food and wine for us.""You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another one. No, I don't want any soup. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too.""Johnsy, dear," said Sue, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by tomorrow.""Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes and lying white and still as a fallen statue. "I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.""Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Mister Behrman up to be my model for my drawing of an old miner. Don't try to move until I come back."Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor of the apartment building. Behrman was a failure in art. For years, he had always beenplanning to paint a work of art, but had never yet begun it. He earned a little money by serving as a model to artists who could not pay for a professional model. He was a fierce, little, old man who protected the two young women in the studio apartment above him.Sue found Behrman in his room. In one area was a blank canvas that had been waiting twenty-five years for the first line of paint. Sue told him about Johnsy and how she feared that her friend would float away like a leaf.Old Behrman was angered at such an idea. "Are there people in the world with the foolishness to die because leaves drop off a vine? Why do you let that silly business come in her brain?""She is very sick and weak," said Sue, "and the disease has left her mind full of strange ideas.""This is not any place in which one so good as Miss Johnsy shall lie sick," yelled Behrman. "Some day I will paint a masterpiece, and we shall all go away."Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to cover the window. She and Behrman went into the other room. They looked out a window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other without speaking. A cold rain was falling, mixed with snow. Behrman sat and posed as the miner.The next morning, Sue awoke after an hour's sleep. She found Johnsy with wide-open eyes staring at the covered window."Pull up the shade; I want to see," she ordered, quietly.Sue obeyed.After the beating rain and fierce wind that blew through the night, there yet stood against the wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. It was still dark green at the center. But its edges were colored with the yellow. It hung bravely from the branch about seven meters above the ground."It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall today and I shall die at the same time.""Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down toward the bed. "Think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"But Johnsy did not answer.The next morning, when it was light, Johnsy demanded that the window shade be raised. The ivy leaf was still there. Johnsy lay for a long time, looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was preparing chicken soup."I've been a bad girl," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how bad I was. It is wrong to want to die. You may bring me a little soup now."An hour later she said: "Someday I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."Later in the day, the doctor came, and Sue talked to him in the hallway."Even chances," said the doctor. "With good care, you'll win. And now I must see another case I have in your building. Behrman, his name is -- some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man and his case is severe. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital today to ease his pain."The next day, the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now -- that's all."Later that day, Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, and put one arm around her."I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mister Behrman died of pneumonia today in the hospital. He was sick only two days. They found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were completely wet and icy cold. They could not imagine where he had been on such a terrible night.And then they found a lantern, still lighted. And they found a ladder that had been moved from its place. And art supplies and a painting board with green and yellow colors mixed on it.And look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it is Behrman's masterpiece ¨C he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."。

最后一片叶子剧本the last leaf

最后一片叶子剧本the last leaf

Johnsy: Sue: DoctorBerhman 旁白情景一旁白:In November, a terrible virous- Pneumonia, touching here and there with his icy fingers. (拿起一张写有Pneumonia的纸条给观众看,拿几张团成纸团抛向群众,抛向谁谁咳嗽)【琼西伏案写着日记。

(这时抛向了Johnsy)然后先咳嗽再逐渐面色苍白的在床上躺着,一动不动的盯着窗外。

快要哭了。

】【苏这时在买菜回来的路上。

】医生:Sue, wait for me, I have something to tell you. Your friendJohnsy has one chance in ten,And that chance is for her towant to live. She has made up her mind that she's not goingto get well. (语气沉重地)Has she anything on her mind?苏:She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day.医生:Paint? - bosh! (难以置信地)Has she anything on her mindworth thinking about twice - a man for instance?苏: "A man?"(有一点轻蔑的大声说) "Is a man worth - but, nodoctor; (坚定地)there is nothing of the kind."医生:Well, But whenever my patient begins to count how manydays are left to her, I half the power of medicines情景二【医生走后,苏艾走进工作室里,把一条日本餐巾哭成一团湿。

The last leaf剧本.doc

The last leaf剧本.doc

The last leaf剧本.doc(舞台上灯光暗下来,街道外惊雷声响起,女孩苏珊和男孩约翰慌张地边说话边绕着空荡荡的房间走)苏珊: 那些叶子呢?唯一剩下的最后一片是在那个灯笼树枝上吗?约翰: 对,就是那里。

但愿,那片叶子不要掉下来。

苏珊: 约翰,我真的很担心爷爷的病情。

他昨晚咳嗽得很厉害。

约翰: 是的,我知道。

我们可以明天早上再去看他。

但是现在,你需要休息。

苏珊: 现在让我睡觉怎么行?我一直想像当那片叶子飘掉的时候,爷爷就会死掉。

约翰: 不,不,不! 你不要这样想。

你必须保持乐观。

待会儿,我给你读一个故事,是那个房间里的画像的故事。

苏珊: 好吧,那我听你说。

约翰: 很久以前,在德国的一座城市里,有一个艺术家钟爱一个年轻姑娘。

他画了这个画像,展示了他的感情。

苏珊: 画得有多好啊?约翰: 艺术家画得非常完美,以至于这个姑娘看到了画像,觉得他比人还要帅气,聪明,最终她爱上了画像。

苏珊: 想象不到,她爱的不是人,是个画像。

这太荒谬了。

约翰: 继父了解了这个艺术家的情况,不允许他们结婚。

于是,艺术家非常绝望地画了另外一副画像,用来代替他自己。

苏珊: 他到底干嘛?如果那女孩这么爱他,他为什么不和她一起逃跑呢?约翰: 然后艺术家告诉姑娘他将离开这个城市,走向外面的世界。

然后他走了,姑娘非常伤心。

她呆在那儿,一天接着一天。

直到有一天,他回来了,一脸的悲伤,告诉她他的画像现在是坏掉了,混合着雨水进入了街上的下水道。

苏珊: 那女孩哭了吗?约翰: 她当然哭了。

艺术家告诉她:他的画像可以被修复,但是他的生命只有那么多年在悲伤之中过去了。

约翰: 是的。

所以,你知道了,我们必须保持乐观,我们必须享受每一个美好的时刻。

苏珊: 我明白了。

但我会一直担心那片叶子。

约翰: 坚持到早上。

我们会看到它的。

(灯光变暗)(休息)(第二天早上,约翰和苏珊从窗户向外看。

)苏珊: 它掉了。

它掉了!我爷爷会死吗?约翰: 苏珊,别担心那么多。

如果你不幸成为画像中的女孩子,我们必须记住,我们的生命太宝贵了。

最后一片叶子(中英对照)

最后一片叶子(中英对照)

最后一片叶子(欧亨利小说)编纂之马矢奏春创作《最后一片叶子》, 一译《最后的常春藤叶》, 主人公是琼西、苏艾、贝尔曼.文中作者着力挖掘和赞美小人物的伟年夜人格和高尚品德, 展示他们向往人性世界的美好愿望.最后一片叶子”的故事, 着实让我们为琼西的命运紧张了一番, 为苏艾的友谊感叹了一回, 为贝尔曼的泛爱震撼了一次.作者通过对穷苦朋友间友谊的描写, 刻画出一个舍己为人的以自己生命为价格缔造真正杰作的画家形象, 讴歌了以贝尔曼为代表的普通人的高尚.书名最后一片叶子又名最后的常春藤叶作者欧·亨利原版名称The Last Leaf装帧平装开本161作者简介▪生平▪手法2作品内容3作品原文▪中文原文▪英文原文4作品赏析作者简介编纂生平1862年9月11日, 美国最著名的短篇小说家之——欧·亨利(O.Henry)出身于美国北卡罗来纳州有个名叫格林斯波罗的小镇.曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父.1862年他出身于美国北卡罗来纳州格林斯波罗镇一个医师家庭.父亲是医生.他原名威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter).他所受教育未几, 15岁便开始在药房当学徒, 20岁时由于健康原因去德克萨斯州的一个牧场当了两年牧牛人, 积累了对西部生活的亲身经验.1884年以后做过会计员、土地局处事员、新闻记者.尔后, 他在德克萨斯做过分歧的工作, 包括在奥斯汀银行当出纳员.他还办过一份名为《滚石》的幽默周刊, 并在休斯敦一家日报上发表幽默小说和趣闻逸事.1887年, 亨利结婚并生了一个女儿. 正当他的生活颇为安宁之时, 却发生了一件改变他命运的事情.1896年, 奥斯汀银行指控他在任职期间盗用资金.他为了遁藏受审, 逃往洪都拉斯.1897年, 后因回家探视病危的妻子被捕入狱, 判处5年徒刑.在狱中曾担负药剂师, 他创作第一部作品的起因是为了给女儿买圣诞礼物, 但基于犯人的身份不敢使用真名, 乃用一部法国药典的编者的名字作为笔名, 在《麦克吕尔》杂志发表.1901年, 因“行为良好”提前获释, 来到纽约专事写作. 正当他的创作力最旺盛的时候, 健康状况却开始恶化, 于1910年病逝.欧·亨利在年夜概十年的时间内创作了短篇小说共有300多篇, 收入《白菜与国王》(1904)[其唯一一部长篇, 作者通过四五条并行的线索, 试图描绘出一幅广阔的画面, 在写法上有它的新颖之处.不外从另一方面看, 小说章与章之间的内在联系不够紧密, 各有自力的内容]、《四百万》(1906)、《西部之心》(1907)、《市声》(1908)、《滚石》(1913)等集子, 其中以描写纽约曼哈顿市民生活的作品为最著名.他把那儿的街道、小饭馆、破旧的公寓的气氛渲染得十分逼真, 故有“曼哈顿的桂冠诗人”之称.他曾以骗子的生活为题材, 写了很多短篇小说.作者企图标明不苟言笑的上流社会里, 有很多人就是高级的骗子, 胜利的骗子.欧·亨利对社会与人生的观察和分析其实不深刻, 有些作品比力浅薄, 但他一生困顿, 常与失意落魄的小人物同甘共苦, 又能以别具一格的艺术手法暗示他们复杂的感情.他的作品构思新颖, 语言诙谐, 结局经常出人意外;又因描写了众多的人物, 富于生活情趣, 被誉为“美国生活的幽默百科全书”.因此, 他最超卓的短篇小说如《爱的牺牲》(A Service of Love)、《警察与赞美诗》(The Cop and the Anthem)、《带家具出租的房间》(The Furnished Room)、《麦琪的礼物》(The Gift of the Magi)、《最后的常春藤叶》(The Last Leaf)等都可列入世界优秀短篇小说之中.他的文字生动活泼, 善于利用双关语、讹音、谐音和旧典新意, 妙趣横生,被喻为[含泪的微笑].他还以准确的细节描写, 制造与再现气氛, 特别是年夜城市夜生活的气氛.手法欧·亨利还以擅长结尾闻名遐迩, 美国文学界称之为“欧·亨利式的结尾”他善于戏剧性地设计情节, 埋下伏笔, 作好铺垫, 勾勒矛盾, 最后在结尾处突然让人物的心理情境发生出其不意的变动, 或使主人公命运陡然逆转, 使读者感到豁然开朗, 柳暗花明, 既在意料之外, 又在情理之中, 不由拍案称奇, 从而造成共同的艺术魅力.有一种被称为“含泪的微笑”的共同艺术风格.欧·亨利把小说的灵魂全都凝聚在结尾部份, 让读者在前的似乎是平淡无奇的而又是诙谐风趣的娓娓动人的描述中, 不知不觉地进入作者精心设置的迷宫, 直到最后, 忽如电光一闪, 才照亮了先前隐藏着的一切, 仿佛在和读者捉迷藏, 或者在玩弄障眼法, 给读者最后一个惊喜.在欧·亨利之前, 其他短篇小说家也已经这样检验考试过这种出其不意的结局.可是欧·亨利对此运用得更为经常, 更为自然, 也更为熟练老到.作品内容编纂穷画家琼珊得了重病,在病房里看着窗外对面树上的常春藤叶子不竭被风吹落, 她认为最后一片叶子的凋零代表自己的死亡, 于是她失去了生存的意志.医生认为再这样下去琼珊会死去.贝尔曼, 一个伟年夜的画家, 在听完苏艾讲述室友琼珊的事情后, 夜里冒着暴雨, 用心灵的画笔画出了一片“永不凋零”的常春藤叶, 让琼珊重拾对生命的希望,而自己却因此患上肺炎, 去世了.作品原文编纂中文原文在华盛顿广场西面的一个小区里, 街道仿佛发了狂似的分成了许多叫做“巷子”的小胡同.这些“巷子”形成许多奇特的角度和曲线.一条街有时自己自己就交叉了不止一次.有一回一个画家发现这条街有他的可贵之处.如果一个商人去收颜料、纸张和画布的账款, 在这条街上转弯抹角、年夜兜圈子的时候, 突然碰到一毛钱也没收到、空手而归的自己, 那才有意思呢!所以, 不久之后很多画家就摸索到这个古色古香的老格林尼治村来了.他们逛来逛去, 寻求朝北的窗户、18世纪的三角墙、荷兰式的阁楼, 以及昂贵的房租.然后, 他们又从第六街买来一些锡蜡杯子和一两只烘锅, 组成了一个“艺术区”.苏艾和琼珊在一座矮墩墩的的三层楼砖屋的顶楼设立了她们的画室.“琼珊”是琼西的昵称.她俩一个来自缅因州, 一个是加利福尼亚州人.她们是在德尔蒙戈饭馆吃客饭时碰到的, 彼此一谈, 发现她们对艺术、饮食、衣着的口味十分相投, 结果便联合租下了那间画室.那是5月里的事.到了11月, 一个冷酷的、肉眼看不见的、医生们叫做“肺炎”的不速之客, 在艺术区里悄悄地游荡, 用他冰凉的手指头这里碰一下那里碰一下.在广场东头, 这个破坏者明目张胆地踏着年夜步, 一下子就击倒几十个受害者, 可是在迷宫一样、狭窄而铺满青的“胡同”里, 他的法式就慢了下来.肺炎先生不是一个你们心目中行侠仗义的老绅士.一个身子薄弱, 被加利福尼亚州的西风刮得没有血色的弱女子, 原本不应该是这个有着红拳头的、呼吸急促的老家伙冲击的对象.然而, 琼西却遭到了冲击;她躺在一张油漆过的铁床上, 一动也不动, 凝望着小小的荷兰式玻璃窗外对面砖房的空墙.一天早晨, 那个忙碌的医生扬了扬他那毛茸茸的灰白色眉毛, 把苏叫到外边的走廊上.“我看, 她的病只有一成希望, ”他说, 一面把体温内外的水银甩下去, “这一成希望在于她自己要不要活下去.人们不想活, 情愿照顾殡仪馆的生意, 这种精神状态使医药一筹莫展.你的这位小姐满肚子以为自己不会好了.她有什么心事吗?”“她——她希望有一天能够去画那不勒斯海湾.”苏艾说.“绘画?——别瞎扯了!她心里有没有值得想两次的事情.比如说, [1]男人?”“男人?”苏艾像吹口琴似的扯着嗓子说, “男人难道值得... ...不, 医生, 没有这样的事.”“能到达的全部力量去治疗她.可要是我的病人开始算计会有几多辆马车送她出丧, 我就得把治疗的效果减失落百分之五十.只要你能想法让她对夏季年夜衣袖子的时新式样感到兴趣而提出一两个问题, 那我可以向你保证把医好她的机会从十分之一提高到五分之一.”医生走后, 苏艾走进工作室里, 把一条日本餐巾哭成一团湿.后来她手里拿着画板, 装做精神奋起的样子走进琼西的屋子, 嘴里吹着爵士音乐调子.琼西躺着, 脸朝着窗口, 被子底下的身体纹丝不动.苏以为她睡着了, 赶忙停止吹口哨.她架好画板, 开始给杂志里的故事画一张钢笔插图.年轻的画家为了铺平通向艺术的路途, 不能不给杂志里的故事画插图, 而这些故事又是年轻的作家为了铺平通向文学的路途而不能不写的.苏艾正在给故事主人公, 一个爱达荷州牧人的身上, 画上一条马匹展览会穿的时髦马裤和一片单眼镜时, 忽然听到一个重复了几次的卑微的声音.她快步走到床边.琼珊的眼睛睁得很年夜.她望着窗外, 数着……倒过来数.“12, ”她数道, 歇了一会又说, “11”, 然后是“10”, 和“9”, 接着几乎同时数着“8”和“7”.苏艾关切地看了看窗外.那儿有什么可数的呢?只见一个空荡阴暗的院子, 20英尺以外还有一所砖房的空墙.一棵老极了的常春藤, 枯萎的根纠结在一块, 枝干攀在砖墙的半腰上.秋天的寒风把藤上的叶子差未几全都吹失落了, 几乎只有光秃的枝条还缠附在剥落的砖块上.“什么, 亲爱的?”苏问道.“6, ”琼西几乎用耳语低声说道, “它们现在越落越快了.三天前还有差未几一百片.我数得头都疼了.可是现在好数了.又失落了一片.只剩下五片了.”“五片什么, 亲爱的.告诉你的苏艾.”“叶子.常春藤上的.比及最后一片叶子失落下来, 我也就该去了.这件事我三天前就知道了.难道医生没有告诉你?”“哟, 我历来没听过这么荒唐的话, ”苏艾满不在乎地说, “那些破常春藤叶子同你的病有什么相干?你以前不是很喜欢这棵树吗?得啦, 你这个淘气的姑娘.不要说傻话了.瞧, 医生今天早晨还告诉我, 说你迅速痊愈的机会是, 让我想想他是怎么说的---他说你好的几率有十比一!噢, 那简直和我们在纽约坐电车或者走过一座新楼房的掌控一样年夜.喝点汤吧, 让苏艾去画她的画, 好把它卖给编纂先生, 换了钱来给她的病孩子买点红葡萄酒, 再买些猪排给自己解解馋.”“你不用买酒了, ”琼珊的眼睛直盯着窗外说道, “又落了一片.不, 我不想喝汤.只剩下四片了.我想在天黑以前等着看那最后一片叶子失落下去.然后我也要去了.”“琼珊, 亲爱的, ”苏艾俯着身子对她说, “等我画完行吗?明天我一定得交出这些插图.我需要光线, 否则我就拉下窗帘了.”“你就不能到另一间屋子里去画吗?”琼西冷冷地问道.“我要在这儿陪你, 和你在一起, ”苏艾说, “再说, 我不喜欢你老是盯着那些叶子看.”“你一画完就叫我, ”琼珊说着, 便闭上了眼睛.她脸色苍白, 一动不动地躺在床上, 就像是座横倒在地上的雕像.“因为我想看那最后一片叶子失落下来, 我等得不耐烦了, 也想得不耐烦了.我想解脱一切, 飘下去, 飘下去, 像一片可怜的疲倦了的叶子那样.”“你争取睡一会儿, ”苏艾说道, “我得下楼把贝尔曼叫上来, 给我当那个隐居的老矿工的模特儿.我一会儿就会回来的.你不要动, 等我回来.”老贝尔曼是住在她们这座楼房底层的一个画家.他年过60, 有一把像米开朗琪罗的摩西雕像那样的年夜胡子, 这胡子长在一个像半人半兽的森林之神的头颅上, 又鬈曲地飘拂在小鬼似的身躯上.贝尔曼是个失败的画家.他操了四十年的画笔, 还远没有摸着艺术女神的衣裙.他老是说就要画他的那幅杰作了, 可是直到现在他还没有动笔.几年来, 他除偶尔画点商业广告之类的玩意儿以外, 什么也没有画过.他给艺术区里穷得雇不起职业模特儿的年轻画家们当模特儿, 挣一点钱.他喝酒毫无节制, 还时常提起他要画的那幅杰作.除此以外, 他是一个火气十足的小老头子, 十分瞧不起他人的温情, 却认为自己是专门呵护楼上画室里那两个年轻女画家的一只看家犬.苏艾在楼下他那间光线昏暗的小房里找到了贝尔曼, 满嘴酒气扑鼻.一幅空白的画布绷在个画架上, 摆在屋角里, 等候那幅杰作已经25年了, 可是连一根线条都还没等着.苏艾把琼珊的胡思乱想告诉了他, 还说她害怕琼珊自个儿瘦小柔弱得像一片叶子一样, 对这个世界的留恋越来越微弱, 恐怕真会离世飘走了.老贝尔曼两只发红的眼睛显然在迎风流泪, 他十分轻蔑地嗤笑这种傻呆的胡思乱想.“什么, ”他喊道, “世界上竟会有人蠢到因为那些该死的常春藤叶子落失落就想死?我历来没有听说过这种怪事.不, 我才没功夫给你那隐居的矿工糊涂虫当模特儿呢.你怎么可以让她胡思乱想?唉, 可怜的琼珊小姐.”“她病得很厉害很虚弱, ”苏艾说, “发高烧发得她神经昏乱, 满脑子都是古怪想法.好吧, 贝尔曼先生, 你不愿意给我当模特儿就算了, 我看你是个讨厌的老... ...老啰唆鬼.”“你简直太婆婆妈妈了!”贝尔曼喊道, “谁说我不愿意当模特儿?走, 我和你一块去.我不是讲了半天愿意给你当模特儿吗?老天爷, 像琼珊小姐这么好的姑娘真不应该躺在这种处所生病.总有一天我要画一幅杰作, 那时我们就可以都搬出去了.““一定的!”他们上楼以后, 琼珊正睡着觉.苏艾把窗帘拉下, 一直遮住窗台, 做手势叫贝尔曼到隔壁屋子里去.他们在那里提心吊胆地瞅着窗外那棵常春藤.后来他们默默无言, 彼此对望了一会.寒冷的雨夹杂着雪花不竭地下着.贝尔曼穿戴他的旧蓝衬衣, 坐在一把翻过来充任岩石的铁壶上, 扮作隐居的矿工.第二天早晨, 苏艾只睡了一个小时的觉, 醒来了, 她看见琼珊无神的眼睛睁得年夜年夜地注视拉下的绿窗帘.“把窗帘拉起来, 我要看看.”她低声地命令道.苏艾疲倦地照办了.然而, 看呀!经过了漫长一夜的风吹雨打, 在砖墙上还挂着一片藤叶.它是常春藤上最后的一片叶子了.靠近茎部仍然是深绿色, 可是锯齿形的叶子边缘已经枯萎发黄, 它傲然挂在一根离地二十多英尺的藤枝上.“这是最后一片叶子.”琼珊说道, “我以为它昨晚一定会落失落的.我听见风声了.今天它一定会落失落, 我也会死的.”“哎呀, 哎呀, ”苏艾把疲乏的脸庞靠近枕头边上对她说, “你不愿为自己着想, 也得为我想想啊.我可怎么办呢?”可是琼珊不回答.当一个灵魂正在准备走上那神秘的、遥远的死亡之途时, 她是世界上最寂寞的人了.那些把她和友谊极年夜地联结起来的关系逐渐消失以后, 她那个狂想越来越强烈了.白天总算过去了, 甚至在暮色中她们还能看见那片孤零零的藤叶仍紧紧地依附在靠墙的枝上.后来, 夜的来临带来呼啸的北风,雨点不竭地拍打着窗子, 雨水从高扬的荷兰式屋檐上流泻下来.天刚蒙蒙亮, 琼珊就毫不留情地吩咐拉起窗帘来.那片枯藤叶仍然在那里.琼珊躺着对它看了许久.然后她招呼正在煤气炉上给她煮鸡汤的苏.“我是一个坏女孩儿, 苏艾, ”琼珊说, “天意让那片最后的藤叶留在那里, 证明我曾有何等坏.想死是有罪的.你现在就给我拿点鸡汤来, 再拿点掺葡萄酒的牛奶来, 再---不, 先给我一面小镜子, 再把枕头垫垫高, 我要坐起来看你做饭.”过了一个钟头, 她说道:“苏艾, 我希望有一天能去画那不勒斯的海湾.”下午医生来了, 他走的时候, 苏艾找了个借口跑到走廊上.“有五成希望.”医生一面说, 一面把苏艾细瘦的颤抖的手握在自己的手里, “好好护理, 你会胜利的.现在我得去看楼下另一个病人.他的名字叫贝尔曼... ...听说也是个画家, 也是肺炎.他年纪太年夜, 身体又弱, 病势很重.他是治欠好的了, 今天要把他送到医院里, 让他更舒服一点.”第二天, 医生对苏艾说:“她已经脱离危险, 你胜利了.现在只剩下营养和护理了.”下午苏艾跑到琼珊的床前, 琼珊正躺着, 安详地编织着一条毫无用处的深蓝色毛线披肩.苏艾用一只胳臂连枕头带人一把抱住了她.“我有件事要告诉你, 小家伙, ”她说, “贝尔曼先生今天在医院里患肺炎去世了.他只病了两天.头一天早晨, 门房发现他在楼下自己那间房里痛得转动不了.他的鞋子和衣服全都湿透了, 冰凉冰凉的.他们搞不清楚在那个凄风苦雨的夜晚, 他究竟到哪里去了.后来他们发现了一盏没有熄灭的灯笼, 一把挪动过处所的梯子, 几支扔得满地的画笔, 还有一块调色板,上面涂抹着绿色和黄色的颜料, 还有, 亲爱的, 瞧瞧窗子外面, 瞧瞧墙上那最后一片藤叶.难道你没有想过, 为什么风刮得那样厉害, 它却历来不摇一摇、动一动呢?唉, 亲爱的, 这片叶子才是贝尔曼的杰作.就是在最后一片叶子失落下来的晚上, 他把它画在那里的.”英文原文In a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route,suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!So, to quaint old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a "colony."At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d'hôte of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted.That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places."Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalricold gentleman. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, grey eyebrow."She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. " And that chance is for her to want to live. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?""She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day." said Sue."Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?""A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in hervoice. "Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind.""Well, it is the weakness, then," said the doctor. "I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten."After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.Johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward."Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven", almost together.Sue look solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks."What is it, dear?" asked Sue."Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost ahundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now.""Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie.""Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?""Oh, I never heard of such nonsense," complained Sue, with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don't be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that's almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride on the street cars or walk past a new building. Try to take some broth now, and let Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and pork chops for her greedy self.""You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another. No, Idon't want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too.""Johnsy, dear," said Sue, bending over her, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the shade down.""Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly."I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves.""Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as fallen statue, "because I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.""Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up tobe my model for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til I come back."Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a Michael Angelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp. Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In one corner was a blankcanvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings."Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in the world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy.""She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet.""You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said。

最后一片叶子(中英对照)

最后一片叶子(中英对照)

最后一片叶子(欧亨利小说)编辑之蔡仲巾千创作《最后一片叶子》,一译《最后的常春藤叶》,主人公是琼西、苏艾、贝尔曼。

文中作者着力挖掘和赞美小人物的伟大人格和高尚品德,展示他们向往人性世界的美好愿望。

最后一片叶子”的故事,着实让我们为琼西的命运紧张了一番,为苏艾的友谊感叹了一回,为贝尔曼的泛爱震撼了一次。

作者通过对穷苦朋友间友谊的描写,刻画出一个舍己为人的以自己生命为代价创造真正杰作的画家形象,讴歌了以贝尔曼为代表的普通人的高尚。

书名最后一片叶子又名最后的常春藤叶作者欧·亨利原版名称The Last Leaf装帧平装开本161作者简介▪生平▪手法2作品内容3作品原文▪中文原文▪英文原文4作品赏析作者简介编辑生平1862年9月11日,美国最著名的短篇小说家之——欧·亨利(O.Henry)出生于美国北卡罗来纳州有个名叫格林斯波罗的小镇。

曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父。

1862年他出身于美国北卡罗来纳州格林斯波罗镇一个医师家庭。

父亲是医生。

他原名威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter)。

他所受教育未几,15岁便开始在药房当学徒,20岁时由于健康原因去德克萨斯州的一个牧场当了两年牧牛人,积累了对西部生活的亲身经验。

1884年以后做过会计员、土地局处事员、新闻记者。

此后,他在德克萨斯做过分歧的工作,包含在奥斯汀银行当出纳员。

他还办过一份名为《滚石》的幽默周刊,并在休斯敦一家日报上发表幽默小说和趣闻逸事。

1887年,亨利结婚并生了一个女儿。

正当他的生活颇为安定之时,却发生了一件改变他命运的事情。

1896年,奥斯汀银行指控他在任职期间盗用资金。

他为了躲避受审,逃往洪都拉斯。

1897年,后因回家探视病危的妻子被捕入狱,判处5年徒刑。

在狱中曾担任药剂师,他创作第一部作品的起因是为了给女儿买圣诞礼物,但基于犯人的身份不敢使用真名,乃用一部法国药典的编者的名字作为笔名,在《麦克吕尔》杂志发表。

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Johnsy:Sue:DoctorBerhman 旁白情景一旁白:In November, a terrible virous- Pneumonia, touching here and there with his icy fingers. (拿起一张写有Pneumonia的纸条给观众看,拿几张团成纸团抛向群众,抛向谁谁咳嗽)【琼西伏案写着日记。

(这时抛向了Johnsy)然后先咳嗽再逐渐面色苍白的在床上躺着,一动不动的盯着窗外。

快要哭了。

】【苏这时在买菜回来的路上。

】医生:Sue, wait for me, I have something to tell you. Your friendJohnsy has one chance in ten,And that chance is for her towant to live. She has made up her mind that she's not goingto get well. (语气沉重地)Has she anything on her mind?苏:She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day.医生:Paint? - bosh! (难以置信地)Has she anything on her mind worth thinking about twice - a man for instance?苏:"A man?"(有一点轻蔑的大声说)"Is a man worth - but, no doctor; (坚定地)there is nothing of the kind."医生:Well, But whenever my patient begins to count how manydays are left to her, I half the power of medicines情景二【医生走后,苏艾走进工作室里,把一条日本餐巾哭成一团湿。

后来她手里拿着画板,装做精神抖擞的样子走进琼西的屋子,嘴里吹着爵士音乐调子。

】【琼西躺着,脸朝着窗口,被子底下的身体纹丝不动。

Sue关切的看了看Johnsy 后开始画插图。

】旁白:Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.【在苏画的时候,突然得到琼西的低语声。

】琼西:(琼西睁大眼睛看着窗外。

)"Twelve。

Eleven。

ten,。

Nine。

eight 。

seven", almost together. “12,歇了一会又说,“11”,然后是“10”,和“9”,接着几乎同时数着“8”和“7”。

苏:What is it, dear?琼西:Six(小声低语)They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache tocount them. But now it's easy. There goes another one.There are only five left now."苏:Five what, dear?琼西:Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too.I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?苏:Oh, I never heard of such nonsense,(满不在乎的样子)What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? Don't be sosilly. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chancesfor getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said -he said the chances were ten to one! Try to take some soupnow.琼西:(还是盯着窗外)"No, I don't want any soup now.goes another.That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before itgets dark. Then I'll go, too."苏:I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leavesInstead ,you should think of something wonderful.琼西:I'm tired of thinking. I'm tired of waiting.I'm tired of living.I'm tiredof eating.I want toturn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, (停顿了一下)just like oneof those poor, tired leaves.(说完闭上眼睛,脸色更加惨白)苏:dear,just Try to sleep,I must go to my model -Behrman’shouse to paint the old thinker.旁白:Old Behrman was a painter who lived next to them. He was past sixty and had a long beard curling down over his chest.Behrman was a failure in art. He had been always about topaint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. Heearned a little by serving as a model to those young artistswho could not pay the price of a professional. He drank ginto excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece.【苏敲着贝尔曼先生家的门,】Behrman:the door is open,just come in.(手里拿着酒瓶子)Sue:(捂鼻子酒味)just take a pose you like”{Behrman摆了一个思想者的pose,Sue边画边叹气。

}Berhman:I’m a thinker ,let me think about your problemSue:Johnsy is ill and she thought herself as a leaf that may float away "Berhman:what!" he cried. "Is there people in the world foolishenough to die because leafs drop off . I have never heard ofsuch a thing. (边说边手舞足蹈)Sue:pose,pleaseBerhman:(摆回原来pose)(想了想又说)Some day I’ll paint a Masterpiece,(顿一下)and we shall all go away.yes.第二天。

琼西(看着苏):Pull it up; I want to see,(苏拉开窗帘,琼西和苏都惊奇的看着)琼西:It is the last one,I thought it would surely fall during the night.I heard the wind. It will fall to-day, and I shall die at the sametime."苏:Dear, dear!(很激动,过去抱住琼西)think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?",,,,,过了几个星期。

(苏习惯性的去拉开窗帘。

)琼西:I've been a bad girl, Sudie,。

Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sinto want to die. You may bring a me a little broth now, andsome milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring me ahand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows about me, andI will sit up and watch you cook."(表现出生活的欲望,健康积极)琼西:(开心的)Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples.(这时医生进来给琼西看病。

)砰砰砰。

(敲门声)医生:Johnsy, you quickly recovered well琼西:yeah,I think so(医生用温度计给Johnsy测体温)医生:You are out of danger. You won.I’ll come next Mondy.Johnsy:Thank you.医生要走了。

苏对着琼西说:Johnsy, I go to buy something to cook,and will be back in a minute(说完跑出去,赶上医生。

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