《警察与赞美诗》英语制作
欧亨利《警察与赞美诗》英文介绍
vandalism苏比走到一家陈设别致大玻璃窗惹眼的铺子前捡起鹅卵石往大玻璃上砸去然后望着旁边的警察笑警察认为没有人做了坏事会自己等着受罚所以正眼看都没看他就追着前面跑着赶车的人去了
The Book Report
The Cop and the Anthem
《警察和赞美诗》
By O.Henry
About the Author
• 3. Soapy decides to clean up his life after hearing an anthem. But alas, he is sentenced to three months in prison.
Daydreaming
苏比看见一所高级餐馆，刚 迈进餐馆的门。服务生领班的目 光就落到他的旧裤子和破皮鞋上， 然后就把他推到人行道上去了。
时髦的文雅娴静的女子在看商品。 苏比打算以一个好色之徒的身份 走过去调戏她，旁边的警察正看 着他们。想不到这位女子却转身 亲热地搂着他，说跟他走之前要 他给自己买一杯啤酒，然后苏比 在拐弯处懊丧地甩掉了女子。
警察与赞美诗 中英文剧本
The cop and the anthem (警察与赞美诗)SCENE 1At the gate of a prison Thief PolicemanP: (pulling the thief out of the gate) Ah, Mr. Black! It’s time to say goodbye! T: But officer! I want to stay here in prison. It’s too cold, and I have no place to stay. Let me stay here in prison! (Walking into the gate)P: (pushing him away) Get out! You lazy thief! Go and look for a job! You’ll have some food and a room to live in.T: But what can I do? I can’t do anything.P: That’s your problem. We can’t help you. (The wind starts to blow hard and the thief trembles with cold.)SCENE 2Outside a shop Thief PolicemanT: Oh, here’s a shop. The shop window is large and bright. I know what to do. (He picks up a stone and throws it at the window. The window is broken. Then he walks about with his hands in his pocket and whistles)P: (Running to the window) Hey! What’s happening? Who broke the window?T: I did!P: What? You? You broke the window?T: Yes, of course, my dear policeman, I broke the window a minute ago.P: Go away! What do you think I am?T: I think you are a policeman and you should catch me! I am the one who broke the window.P: If you had broken it, you wouldn’t be standing here now! Get out of my way! (pushing him away)T: (running after him) But I did it! I did it! (sighing) Oh, he is gone. It’s no use. I have to try again.SCENE 3Near the chair in a park Thief Old man Policeman(An old man is sleeping in a chair. The thief notices him, walks near him and takes away the bag from him.)O: (jumping up) Hey! What are you doing? That’s my bag!T: Yes, your bag. Now it’s in my hand. Go and tell the policeman!O: (Getting back his bag and catching the thief) Come with me to the police station! T: Thank you, sir. Thank you.O: (surprised) What?T: You know I have no food and no home. And it’s getting colder and colder. So I want to stay in prison. Please help me.P: (Feeling pity for him) Oh, what a poor man! Let me help you. I have some bread and some money. Don’t be a thief anymore. Poor man, poor man! (He gives the thief some bread and some money, then leaves)T: (worried) But what should I do? Where should I go this evening?SCENE 4In a Restaurant Thief WaitressW: Good morning, sir! T: Good morning!W: Sit down, please. Here’s the menu. What will you have?T: At first, I’d like a bowl of vegetable soup.W: (writing down) A bowl of vegetable soup.T: Then I’ll have some steak and chicken. At last, I’ll have a cup of coffee and a cigar.W: Steak, chicken, coffee and a cigar. Er, excuse me, but this is a very big meal. Do you have enough money?T: What?! What did you say? Do you often ask such questions?W: I’m sorry. I’ll bring your food right away.(Later, the thief eats up all his food)W: Was everything all right, sir?T: The food was very nice. I like it very much.W: Thank you, sir. Here’s your bill, sir. Twenty dollars, please.T: Very well, but now, I want to tell you that I haven’t twenty dollars. I don’t even have forty cents.W: I see, will you come with me, please?T: (standing up and following the waitress) Of course. The policeman is waiting for me, isn’t he?(Two men appear suddenly and walk to the thief)T: I… I… don’t understand. Who are they?)“We are the people you are waiting for!”(They give the thief a good beating.)SCENE 5In front of a church Thief Policeman Blind man(The thief stands outside of the church and listens to the music of “Silent Night”) T: What beautiful music! I often listened to it when I was a boy. Ah! How different my life is! But look at me now! What am I? Who am I? Oh, I don’t want to be a thief!I want to be a good man now. I’m not old. I’m going to work. I can help the others.(A blind man appears. The thief helps him walk across the street.)B: It’s very kind of you. (A lady drops her purse. The thief picks it up and gives it back to her.)(Later, a policeman comes)P: Hey! You! What are you doing here?T: Nothing, just listening to the music.P: Listening to the music?T: Yes, I’m just standing here and listening to the music.P: Oh, no. Didn’t I see you this morning? Of course! You are the one who was standing near that broken window. I think you broke the window after all!(The thief runs away quickly. Two other policemen run after him and catch him by thearm.T: (shouting desperately) But officer! I’ not a thief now! I don’t want to be a thief any more! I’m a good man now! I’m a good man!(The music of “silent night” echoes on the stage.)警察与赞美诗第一幕出场人物：索比 Soapy(索比急躁不安地躺在麦迪逊广场的长凳上，辗转反侧。
英文+中文版警察与赞美诗 -
流浪汉A：索比穿着：破旧裤子，破皮鞋，马甲，黑领结流浪汉B：索普穿着：邋遢的便装警长警察旁白+法官侍者领班+市民（我）侍者+路人某一个晚上索比，索普睡在广场喷水池旁的长凳上，用三张星期日的报纸分别垫在上衣里、包着脚踝、盖住大腿，依然冻得瑟瑟发抖第二天早上两人急躁不安地躺在广场的长凳上，辗转反侧。
One nightSoapy, thorpe slept on his bench near the spurting fountain in the square, with the three newspapers, Sunday in the top cover, wrapped in ankle, thigh, still shiveringThe second day morningThe two men lay anxiously on the bench in the square, tossing and turning旁白：冬天快要到了，他们得想想办法去岛上呆上三个月，多年来，好客的布莱克韦尔岛的监狱一直是两人冬天的寓所。
不要求在地中海巡游，也不要求到南方去晒令人昏睡的太阳，有吃有住就好，还有志趣相投的伙伴们，也没有北风和警察的侵扰。
那样的生活多好啊~！Narrator: winter is coming, they have to think of a way to stay on the island for three months, for years, the hospitable blackwell prison island has always been two people's home in the winter. Does not require a cruise in the Mediterranean, also went to the south does not require the sun bask in a coma, had to eat a live, there are like-minded partners, nor the intrusion of the north wind and the police. That's a good life.索比：（小声说）哼，那些以公益设施对城镇穷苦人没有一点作用，早点拆了才好，让我遭受精神的折磨，还不如法律来的好呢。
警察与赞美诗英语原文(新)
英语原文The Cop and the Anthem by O 。
HenryOn his bench in Madison Square Soapy moved uneasily. When wild goose honk high of nights, and when women without sealskin coats grow kind to their husbands, and when Soapy moves uneasily on his bench in the park, you may know that winter is near at hand.A dead leaf fell in Soapy’s lap. That was Jack Frost’s card. Jack is kind to the regular denizens of Madison Square, and gives fair warning of his annual call. At the corners of four streets he hands his pasteboard to the North Wind, footman of the mansion of All Outdoors, so that the inhabitants thereof may make ready.Soapy’s mind became cognisant of the fact that the time had come for him to resolve himself into a singular Committee of Ways and Means to provide against the coming rigour. And therefore he moved uneasily on his bench.The hibernatorial ambitions of Soapy were not of the highest. In them were no considerations of Mediterranean cruises, of soporific Southern skies or drifting in the Vesuvian Bay. Three months on the Island was what his soul craved. Three months of assured board and bed and congenial company, safe from Boreas and bluecoats, seemed to Soapy the essence of things desirable.For years the hospitable Blackwell’s had been his winter quarters. Just as his more fortunate fellow New Yorkers had bought their tickets to Palm Beach and the Riviera each winter, so Soapy had made his humble arrangements for his annual hegira to the Island. And now the time was come. On the previous night three Sabbath newspapers, distributed beneath his coat, about his ankles and over his lap, had failed to repulse the cold as he slept on his bench near the spurting fountain in the ancient square. So the Island loomed large and timely in Soapy’s mind. H e scorned the provisions made in the name of charity for the city’s dependents. In Soapy’s opinion the Law was more benign than Philanthropy. There was an endless round of institutions, municipal and eleemosynary, on which he might set out and receive lodging and food accordant with the simple life. But to one of Soapy’s proud spirit the gifts of charity are encumbered. If not in coin you must pay in humiliation of spirit for every benefit received at the hands of philanthropy. As Cesar had his Brutus, every bed of charity must have its toll of a bath, every loaf of bread its compensation of a private and personal inquisition. Wherefore it is better to be a guest of the law, which though conducted by rules, does not meddle unduly with a gentleman’s private a ffairs.Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once set about accomplishing his desire. There were many easy ways of doing this. The pleasantest was to dine luxuriously at some expensive restaurant; and then, after declaring insolvency, be handed over quietly and without uproar to a policeman. An accommodating magistrate would do the rest.Soapy left his bench and strolled out of the square and across the level sea of asphalt, where Broadway and Fifth Avenue flow together. Up Broadway he turned, and halted at a glittering café, where are gathered together nightly the choicest products of the grape, the silkworm and the protoplasm.Soapy had confidence in himself from the lowest button of his vest upward. He was shaven, and his coat was decent and his neat black, ready-tied four-in-hand had been presented to him by a lady missionary on Thanksgiving Day. If he could reach a table in the restaurant unsuspected, success would be his. The portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiter’s mind. A roasted mallard duck, thought Soapy, would be about the thing—with a bottleof Chablis, and then Camembert, a demi-tasse and a cigar. One dollar for the cigar would be enough. The total would not be so high as to call forth any supreme manifestation of revenge from the café management; and yet the meat would leave him filled and happy for the journey to his winter refuge.But as Soapy set foot inside the restaurant door the head waiter’s eye fell upon his frayed trousers and decadent shoes. Strong and ready hands turned him about and conveyed him in silence and haste to the sidewalk and averted the ignoble fate of the menaced mallard.Soapy turned off Broadway. It seemed that his route to the coveted island was not to be an epicurean one. Some other way of entering limbo must be thought of.At a corner of Sixth Avenue electric lights and cunningly displayed wares behind plate-glass made a shop window conspicuous. Soapy took a cobble-stone and dashed it through the glass. People came running round the corner, a policeman in the lead. Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of brass buttons.“Where’s the man that done that?” inquired the officer excitedly.“Don’t you figure out that I might have had something to do with it?” said Soapy, not without sarcasm, but friendly, as one greets good fortune.The policeman’s mind refused to accept Soapy even as a clue. Men who smash windows do not remain to parley with the law’s minions. They take to their heels. The policeman saw a man halfway down the block running to catch a car. With drawn club he joined in the pursuit. Soapy, with disgust in his heart, loafed along, twice unsuccessful.On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant of no great pretensions. It catered to large appetites and modest purses. Its crockery and atmosphere were thick; its soup and napery thin. Into this place Soapy took his accusive shoes and tell-tale trousers without challenge. At a table he sat and consumed beefsteak, flap-jacks, doughnuts, and pie. And then to the waiter he betrayed the fact that the minutest coin and himself were strangers.“Now, get busy and call a cop,” said Soapy. “And don’t keep a gentleman waiting.”“No cop for youse,” said the waiter, with a voice like butter cakes and an eye like the cherry in a Manhattan cocktail. “Hey, Con!”Neatly upon his left ear on the callous pavement two waiters pitched Soapy. He arose, joint by joint, as a carpenter’s rule opens, and beat the dust from his clothes. Arrest seemed but a rosy dream. The Island seemed very far away. A policeman who stood before a drug store two doors away laughed and walked down the street.Five blocks Soapy travelled before his courage permitted him to woo capture again. This time the opportunity presented what he fatuously termed to himself a “cinch.” A young woman of a modest and pleasing guise was standing before a show window gazing with sprightly interest at its display of shaving mugs and inkstands, and two yards from the window a large policeman of severe demeanour leaned against a water-plug.It was Soapy’s design to assume the rule of the despicable and execrated “masher.” The refined and elegant appearance of his victim and the contiguity of the conscientious cop encouraged him to believe that he would soon feel the pleasant official clutch upon his arm that would ensure his winter quarters of the right little, tight little isle.Soapy straightened the lady missionary’s ready-made tie, dragged his shrinking cuffs into the open, set his hat at a killing cant and sidled toward the young women. He made eyes at her, was taken with sudden coughs and “hems,” smiled, smirked, and went b razenly through the impudentand contemptible litany of the “masher.” With half an eye Soapy saw that the policeman was watching him fixedly. The young woman moved away a few steps, and again bestowed her absorbed attention upon the shaving mugs. Soapy followed, boldly stepping to her side, raised his hat and said: “Ah there, Bedelia! Don’t you want to come and play in my yard?”The policeman was still looking. The persecuted young woman had but to beckon a finger and Soapy would be practically en route for his insular haven. Already he imagined he could feel the cosy warmth of the station-house. The young woman faced him and, stretching out a hand, caught Soapy’s coat sleeve.“Sure, Mike,” she said joyfully, “if you’ll blow me to a pail of suds. I’d have spoke to you sooner, but the cop was watching.”With the young woman playing the clinging ivy to his oak Soapy walked past the policeman overcome with gloom. He seemed doomed to liberty.At the next corner he shook off his companion and ran. He halted in the district where by night are found the lightest streets, hearts, vows, and librettos. Women in furs and men in greatcoats moved gaily in the wintry air. A sudden fear seized Soapy that some dreadful enchantment had rendered him immune to arrest. The thought brought a little of panic upon it, and when he came upon another policeman lounging grandly in front of a transplendent theatre he caught at the immediate straw of “disorderly conduct.”On the sidewalk Soapy began to yell drunken gibberish at the top of his harsh voice. He danced, howled, raved, and otherwise disturbed the welkin.The policeman twirled his club, turne d his back to Soapy and remarked to a citizen: “’Tis one of them Yale lads celebratin’ the goose egg they give to the Hartford College. Noisy; but no harm. We’ve instructions to lave them be.”Disconsolate, Soapy ceased his unavailing racket. Would never a policeman lay hands on him? In his fancy the Island seemed an unattainable Arcadia. He buttoned his thin coat against the chilling wind.In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man lighting a cigar at a swinging light. His silk umbrella he had set by the door on entering. Soapy stepped inside, secured the umbrella and sauntered off with it slowly. The man at the cigar light followed hastily.“My umbrella,” he said sternly.“Oh, is it?” sneered Soapy, adding insult to petit larceny. “Well, why don’t you call a policeman? I took it. Your umbrella! Why don’t you call a cop? There stands one on the corner.”The umbrella owner slowed his steps. Soapy did likewise, with a presentiment that luck would run against him. The policeman looked at the two curiously.“Of course,” said the umbrella man—“that is—well, you know how these mistakes occur—I—if it’s your umbrella I hope you’ll excuse me—I picked it up this morning in a restaurant—If you recognise it as yours, why—I hope you’ll—““Of course it’s mine,” said Soapy viciously.The ex-umbrella man retreated. The policeman hurried to assist a tall blonde in an opera cloak across the street in front of a street car that was approaching two blocks away.Soapy walked eastward through a street damaged by improvements. He hurled the umbrella wrathfully into an excavation. He muttered against the men who wear helmets and carry clubs. Because he wanted to fall into their clutches, they seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.At length Soapy reached one of the avenues to the east where the glitter and turmoil was but faint. He set his face down this toward Madison Square, for the homing instinct survives even when the home is a park bench.But on an unusually quiet corner Soapy came to a standstill. Here was an old church, quaint and rambling and gabled. Through one violet-stained window a soft light glowed, where, no doubt, the organist loitered over the keys, making sure of his mastery of the coming Sabbath anthem. For there drifted out to Soa py’s ears sweet music that caught and held him transfixed against the convolutions of the iron fence.The moon was above, lustrous and serene; vehicles and pedestrains were few; sparrows twittered sleepily in the eaves—for a little while the scene might have been a country churchyard. And the anthem that the organist played cemented Soapy to the iron fence, for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions and friends and immaculate thoughts and collars.The conjunction of Soapy’s receptive state of mind and the influences about the old church wrought a sudden and wonderful change in his soul. He viewed with swift horror the pit into which he had tumbled, the degraded days, unworthy desires, dead hopes, wrecked faculties, and base motives that made up his existence.And also in a moment his heart responded thrillingly to this novel mood. An instantaneous and strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate. He would pull himself out of the mire; he would make a man of himself again; he would conquer the evil that had taken possession of him. There was time; he was comparatively young yet; he would resurrect his old eager ambitions and pursue them without faltering. Those solemn but sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him. Tomorrow he would go into the roaring down-town district and find work. A fur importer had once offered him a place as driver. He would find him to-morrow and ask for the position. He would be somebody in the world. He would—Soapy felt a hand laid on his arm. He looked quickly round into the broad face of a policeman.“What are you doin’ here?” asked the officer.“Nothing’,” said Soapy.“Then come along,” said the policeman.“Three months on the Island,” said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.。
警察与赞美诗英语 原文分析
Original TextThe Cop and the Anthemby O .Henry1 On his bench in Madison Square Soapy moved uneasily. When wild goose honk high of nights, and when women without sealskin coats grow kind to their husbands, and when Soapy moves uneasily on his bench in the park, you may know that winter is near at hand.2 A dead leaf fell in Soapy’s lap. That was Jack Frost’s card. Jack is kind to the regular denizens of Madison Square, and gives fair warning of his annual call. At the corners of streets his four hands his pasteboard to the North Wind, footman of the mansion of All Outdoors, so that the inhabitants there of may make ready.3 Soapy’s mind became cognisant of the fact that the time had come for him to resolve himself into a singular Committee of Ways and Means to provide against the coming rigour. And therefore he moved uneasily on his bench.4 The hibernatorial ambitions of Soapy were not of the highest. In them were no considerations of Mediterranean cruises, of soporific Southern skies or drifting in the Vesuvian Bay. Three months on the Island was what his soul craved. Three months of assured board and bed and congenial company, safe from Boreas and bluecoats, seemed to Soapy the essence of things desirable.5 For years the hospitable Blackwell’s had been his winter quarters. Just as his more fortunate fellow New Yorkers had bought their tickets to Palm Beach and the Riviera each winter, so Soapy had made his humble arrangements for his annual hegira to the Island. And now the time was come. On the previous night three Sabbath newspapers, distributed beneath his coat, about his ankles and over his lap, had failed to repulse the cold as he slept on his bench near the spurting fountain in the ancient square. So the Island loomed large and timely in Soapy’s mind. He scorned the provisions made in the name of charity for the city’s dependents. In Soapy’s opinion the Law was more benign than Philanthropy. There was an endless round of institutions, municipal and eleemosynary, on which he might set out and receive lodging and food accordant with the simple life. But to one of Soapy’s proud spirit the gifts of charity are encumbered. If not in coin you must pay in humiliation of spirit for every benefit received at the hands of philanthropy. As Cesar had his Brutus, every bed of charity must have its toll of a bath, every loaf of bread its compensation of a private and personal inquisition. Wherefore it is better to be a guest of the law, which though conducted by rules, does not meddle unduly with a gentleman’s private affairs.6 Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once set about accomplishing his desire. There were many easy ways of doing this. The pleasantest was to dine luxuriously at some expensive restaurant; and then, after declaring insolvency, be handed over quietly and without uproar to a policeman. An accommodatingmagistrate would do the rest.7 Soapy left his bench and strolled out of the square and across the level sea of asphalt, where Broadway and Fifth Avenue flow together. Up Broadway he turned, and halted at a glittering café, where are gathered together nightly the choicest products of the grape, the silkworm and the protoplasm.8 Soapy had confidence in himself from the lowest button of his vest upward. He was shaven, and his coat was decent and his neat black, ready-tied four-in-hand had been presented to him by a lady missionary on Thanksgiving Day. If he could reach a table in the restaurant unsuspected, success would be his. The portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiter’s mind. A roasted mallard duck, thought Soapy, would be about the thing—with a bottle of Chablis, and then Camembert, a demi-tasse and a cigar. One dollar for the cigar would be enough. The total would not be so high as to call forth any supreme manifestation of revenge from the café management; and yet the meat would leave him filled and happy for the journey to his winter refuge.9 But as Soapy set foot inside the restaurant door the head waiter’s eye fell upon his frayed trousers and decadent shoes. Strong and ready hands turned him about and conveyed him in silence and haste to the sidewalk and averted the ignoble fate of the menaced mallard.10 Soapy turned off Broadway. It seemed that his route to the coveted island was not to be an epicurean one. Some other way of entering limbo must be thought of.11 At a corner of Sixth Avenue electric lights and cunningly displayed wares behind plate-glass made a shop window conspicuous. Soapy took a cobble-stone and dashed it through the glass. People came running round the corner, a policeman in the lead. Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of brass buttons.12 “Where’s the man that done that?” inquired the officer excitedly.13 “Don’t you figure out that I might have had something to do with it?” said Soapy, not without sarcasm, but friendly, as one greets good fortune.14 The pol iceman’s mind refused to accept Soapy even as a clue. Men who smash windows do not remain to parley with the law’s minions. They take to their heels. The policeman saw a man halfway down the block running to catch a car. With drawn club he joined in the pursuit. Soapy, with disgust in his heart, loafed along, twice unsuccessful.15 On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant of no great pretensions. It catered to large appetites and modest purses. Its crockery and atmosphere were thick; its soup and napery thin. Into this place Soapy took his accusive shoes and tell-tale trousers without challenge. At a table he sat and consumed beefsteak, flap-jacks, doughnuts, and pie. And then to the waiter he betrayed the fact that the minutest coin and himself were strangers.16 “Now, get busy and call a cop,” said Soapy. “And don’t keep a gentlemanwaiting.”16 “No cop for youse,” said the waiter, with a voice like butter cakes and an eye like the cherry in a Manhattan cocktail. “Hey, Con!”17 Neatly upon his left ear on the callous pavement two waiters pitched Soapy. He arose, joint by joint, as a carpenter’s rule opens, and beat the dust from his clothes. Arrest seemed but a rosy dream. The Island seemed very far away. A policeman who stood before a drug store two doors away laughed and walked down the street.18 Five blocks Soapy travelled before his courage permitted him to woo capture again. This time the opportunity presented what he fatuously termed to himself a “cinch.” A young woman of a modest and pleasing guise was standing before a show window gazing with sprightly interest at its display of shaving mugs and inkstands, and two yards from the window a large policeman of severe demeanour leaned against a water-plug.19 It was Soapy’s design to assume the rule of the despicable and execrated “masher.” The refined and elegant appearance of his victim and the contiguity of the conscientious cop encouraged him to believe that he would soon feel the pleasant official clutch upon his arm that would ensure his winter quarters of the right little, tight little isle.20 Soapy straightened the lady missionary’s ready-made tie, dragged his shrinking cuffs into the open, set his hat at a killing cant and sidled toward the young women. He made e yes at her, was taken with sudden coughs and “hems,” smiled, smirked, and went brazenly through the impudent and contemptible litany of the “masher.” With half an eye Soapy saw that the policeman was watching him fixedly. The young woman moved away a few steps, and again bestowed her absorbed attention upon the shaving mugs. Soapy followed, boldly stepping to her side, raised his hat and said: “Ah there, Bedelia! Don’t you want to come and play in my yard?”21 The policeman was still looking. The persecuted young woman had but to beckon a finger and Soapy would be practically en route for his insular haven. Already he imagined he could feel the cosy warmth of the station-house. The young woman faced him and, stretching out a hand, caught Soapy’s coat slee ve.22 “Sure, Mike,” she said joyfully, “if you’ll blow me to a pail of suds. I’d have spoke to you sooner, but the cop was watching.”With the young woman playing the clinging ivy to his oak Soapy walked past the policeman overcome with gloom. He seemed doomed to liberty.23 At the next corner he shook off his companion and ran. He halted in the district where by night are found the lightest streets, hearts, vows, and librettos. Women in furs and men in greatcoats moved gaily in the wintry air. A sudden fear seized Soapy that some dreadful enchantment had rendered him immune to arrest. The thought brought a little of panic upon it, and when he came upon anotherpoliceman lounging grandly in front of a transplendent theatre he caught at the immediate straw of “disorderly conduct.”24 On the sidewalk Soapy began to yell drunken gibberish at the top of his harsh voice. He danced, howled, raved, and otherwise disturbed the welkin.25 The policeman twirled his club, turned his back to Soapy and remarked toa citizen: “Tis one of them Yale lads celebratin’ the goose egg they give to the Hartford College. Noisy; but no harm. We’ve instructions to lave them be.”26 Disconsolate, Soapy ceased his unavailing racket. Would never a policeman lay hands on him? In his fancy the Island seemed an unattainable Arcadia. He buttoned his thin coat against the chilling wind.27 In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man lighting a cigar at a swinging light. His silk umbrella he had set by the door on entering. Soapy stepped inside, secured the umbrella and sauntered off with it slowly. The man at the cigar light followed hastily.28 “My umbrella,” he said sternly.29 “Oh, is it?” sneered Soapy, adding insult to petit larceny. “Well, why don’t you call a policeman? I took it. Your umbrella! Why don’t you call a cop? There stands one on the corner.”30 The umbrella owner slowed his steps. Soapy did likewise, with a presentiment that luck would run against him. The policeman looked at the two curiously.31“Of course,” said the umbrella man—“that is—well, you know how these mistakes occur—I—if it’s your umbrella I hope you’ll excuse me—I picked it up this morning in a restaurant—If you recognise it as yours, why—I hope you’ll—“32 “Of course it’s mine,” said Soapy viciously.33 The ex-umbrella man retreated. The policeman hurried to assist a tall blonde in an opera cloak across the street in front of a street car that was approaching two blocks away.34 Soapy walked eastward through a street damaged by improvements. He hurled the umbrella wrathfully into an excavation. He muttered against the men who wear helmets and carry clubs. Because he wanted to fall into their clutches, they seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.35 At length Soapy reached one of the avenues to the east where the glitter and turmoil was but faint. He set his face down this toward Madison Square, for the homing instinct survives even when the home is a park bench.36 But on an unusually quiet corner Soapy came to a standstill. Here was an old church, quaint and rambling and gabled. Through one violet-stained window a soft light glowed, where, no doubt, the organist loitered over the keys, making sure of his mastery of the coming Sabbath anthem. For there drifted out to Soapy’s ears sweet music that caught and held him transfixed against the convolutions of the iron fence.37 The moon was above, lustrous and serene; vehicles and pedestrains were few; sparrows twittered sleepily in the eaves—for a little while the scene mighthave been a country churchyard. And the anthem that the organist played cemented Soapy to the iron fence, for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions and friends and immaculate thoughts and collars.38 The conjunction of Soapy’s receptive state of mind and the influences about the old church wrought a sudden and wonderful change in his soul. He viewed with swift horror the pit into which he had tumbled, the degraded days, unworthy desires, dead hopes, wrecked faculties, and base motives that made up his existence.39 And also in a moment his heart responded thrillingly to this novel mood. An instantaneous and strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate. He would pull himself out of the mire; he would make a man of himself again; he would conquer the evil that had taken possession of him. There was time; he was comparatively young yet; he would resurrect his old eager ambitions and pursue them without faltering. Those solemn but sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him. Tomorrow he would go into the roaring down-town district and find work. A fur importer had once offered him a place as driver. He would find him to-morrow and ask for the position. He would be somebody in the world. He would—40 Soapy felt a hand laid on his arm. He looked quickly round into the broad face of a policeman.41 “What are you doin’ here?” asked the officer.42 “Nothing’,” said Soapy.43“Then come along,” said the polic eman.44“Three months on the Island,” said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.。
警察与赞美诗英语原文(新)
英语原文The Cop and the Anthem by O 。
HenryOn his bench in Madison Square Soapy moved uneasily. When wild goose honk high of nights, and when women without sealskin coats grow kind to their husbands, and when Soapy moves uneasily on his bench in the park, you may know that winter is near at hand.A dead leaf fell in Soapy’s lap. That was Jack Frost’s card. Jack is kind to the regular denizens of Madison Square, and gives fair warning of his annual call. At the corners of four streets he hands his pasteboard to the North Wind, footman of the mansion of All Outdoors, so that the inhabitants thereof may make ready.Soapy’s mind became cognisant of the fact that the time had come for him to resolve himself into a singular Committee of Ways and Means to provide against the coming rigour. And therefore he moved uneasily on his bench.The hibernatorial ambitions of Soapy were not of the highest. In them were no considerations of Mediterranean cruises, of soporific Southern skies or drifting in the Vesuvian Bay. Three months on the Island was what his soul craved. Three months of assured board and bed and congenial company, safe from Boreas and bluecoats, seemed to Soapy the essence of things desirable.For years the hospitable Blackwell’s had been his winter quarters. Just as his more fortunate fellow New Yorkers had bought their tickets to Palm Beach and the Riviera each winter, so Soapy had made his humble arrangements for his annual hegira to the Island. And now the time was come. On the previous night three Sabbath newspapers, distributed beneath his coat, about his ankles and over his lap, had failed to repulse the cold as he slept on his bench near the spurting fountain in the ancient square. So the Island loomed large and timely in Soapy’s mind. H e scorned the provisions made in the name of charity for the city’s dependents. In Soapy’s opinion the Law was more benign than Philanthropy. There was an endless round of institutions, municipal and eleemosynary, on which he might set out and receive lodging and food accordant with the simple life. But to one of Soapy’s proud spirit the gifts of charity are encumbered. If not in coin you must pay in humiliation of spirit for every benefit received at the hands of philanthropy. As Cesar had his Brutus, every bed of charity must have its toll of a bath, every loaf of bread its compensation of a private and personal inquisition. Wherefore it is better to be a guest of the law, which though conducted by rules, does not meddle unduly with a gentleman’s private a ffairs.Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once set about accomplishing his desire. There were many easy ways of doing this. The pleasantest was to dine luxuriously at some expensive restaurant; and then, after declaring insolvency, be handed over quietly and without uproar to a policeman. An accommodating magistrate would do the rest.Soapy left his bench and strolled out of the square and across the level sea of asphalt, where Broadway and Fifth Avenue flow together. Up Broadway he turned, and halted at a glittering café, where are gathered together nightly the choicest products of the grape, the silkworm and the protoplasm.Soapy had confidence in himself from the lowest button of his vest upward. He was shaven, and his coat was decent and his neat black, ready-tied four-in-hand had been presented to him by a lady missionary on Thanksgiving Day. If he could reach a table in the restaurant unsuspected, success would be his. The portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiter’s mind. A roasted mallard duck, thought Soapy, would be about the thing—with a bottleof Chablis, and then Camembert, a demi-tasse and a cigar. One dollar for the cigar would be enough. The total would not be so high as to call forth any supreme manifestation of revenge from the café management; and yet the meat would leave him filled and happy for the journey to his winter refuge.But as Soapy set foot inside the restaurant door the head waiter’s eye fell upon his frayed trousers and decadent shoes. Strong and ready hands turned him about and conveyed him in silence and haste to the sidewalk and averted the ignoble fate of the menaced mallard.Soapy turned off Broadway. It seemed that his route to the coveted island was not to be an epicurean one. Some other way of entering limbo must be thought of.At a corner of Sixth Avenue electric lights and cunningly displayed wares behind plate-glass made a shop window conspicuous. Soapy took a cobble-stone and dashed it through the glass. People came running round the corner, a policeman in the lead. Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of brass buttons.“Where’s the man that done that?” inquired the officer excitedly.“Don’t you figure out that I might have had something to do with it?” said Soapy, not without sarcasm, but friendly, as one greets good fortune.The policeman’s mind refused to accept Soapy even as a clue. Men who smash windows do not remain to parley with the law’s minions. They take to their heels. The policeman saw a man halfway down the block running to catch a car. With drawn club he joined in the pursuit. Soapy, with disgust in his heart, loafed along, twice unsuccessful.On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant of no great pretensions. It catered to large appetites and modest purses. Its crockery and atmosphere were thick; its soup and napery thin. Into this place Soapy took his accusive shoes and tell-tale trousers without challenge. At a table he sat and consumed beefsteak, flap-jacks, doughnuts, and pie. And then to the waiter he betrayed the fact that the minutest coin and himself were strangers.“Now, get busy and call a cop,” said Soapy. “And don’t keep a gentleman waiting.”“No cop for youse,” said the waiter, with a voice like butter cakes and an eye like the cherry in a Manhattan cocktail. “Hey, Con!”Neatly upon his left ear on the callous pavement two waiters pitched Soapy. He arose, joint by joint, as a carpenter’s rule opens, and beat the dust from his clothes. Arrest seemed but a rosy dream. The Island seemed very far away. A policeman who stood before a drug store two doors away laughed and walked down the street.Five blocks Soapy travelled before his courage permitted him to woo capture again. This time the opportunity presented what he fatuously termed to himself a “cinch.” A young woman of a modest and pleasing guise was standing before a show window gazing with sprightly interest at its display of shaving mugs and inkstands, and two yards from the window a large policeman of severe demeanour leaned against a water-plug.It was Soapy’s design to assume the rule of the despicable and execrated “masher.” The refined and elegant appearance of his victim and the contiguity of the conscientious cop encouraged him to believe that he would soon feel the pleasant official clutch upon his arm that would ensure his winter quarters of the right little, tight little isle.Soapy straightened the lady missionary’s ready-made tie, dragged his shrinking cuffs into the open, set his hat at a killing cant and sidled toward the young women. He made eyes at her, was taken with sudden coughs and “hems,” smiled, smirked, and went b razenly through the impudentand contemptible litany of the “masher.” With half an eye Soapy saw that the policeman was watching him fixedly. The young woman moved away a few steps, and again bestowed her absorbed attention upon the shaving mugs. Soapy followed, boldly stepping to her side, raised his hat and said: “Ah there, Bedelia! Don’t you want to come and play in my yard?”The policeman was still looking. The persecuted young woman had but to beckon a finger and Soapy would be practically en route for his insular haven. Already he imagined he could feel the cosy warmth of the station-house. The young woman faced him and, stretching out a hand, caught Soapy’s coat sleeve.“Sure, Mike,” she said joyfully, “if you’ll blow me to a pail of suds. I’d have spoke to you sooner, but the cop was watching.”With the young woman playing the clinging ivy to his oak Soapy walked past the policeman overcome with gloom. He seemed doomed to liberty.At the next corner he shook off his companion and ran. He halted in the district where by night are found the lightest streets, hearts, vows, and librettos. Women in furs and men in greatcoats moved gaily in the wintry air. A sudden fear seized Soapy that some dreadful enchantment had rendered him immune to arrest. The thought brought a little of panic upon it, and when he came upon another policeman lounging grandly in front of a transplendent theatre he caught at the immediate straw of “disorderly conduct.”On the sidewalk Soapy began to yell drunken gibberish at the top of his harsh voice. He danced, howled, raved, and otherwise disturbed the welkin.The policeman twirled his club, turne d his back to Soapy and remarked to a citizen: “’Tis one of them Yale lads celebratin’ the goose egg they give to the Hartford College. Noisy; but no harm. We’ve instructions to lave them be.”Disconsolate, Soapy ceased his unavailing racket. Would never a policeman lay hands on him? In his fancy the Island seemed an unattainable Arcadia. He buttoned his thin coat against the chilling wind.In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man lighting a cigar at a swinging light. His silk umbrella he had set by the door on entering. Soapy stepped inside, secured the umbrella and sauntered off with it slowly. The man at the cigar light followed hastily.“My umbrella,” he said sternly.“Oh, is it?” sneered Soapy, adding insult to petit larceny. “Well, why don’t you call a policeman? I took it. Your umbrella! Why don’t you call a cop? There stands one on the corner.”The umbrella owner slowed his steps. Soapy did likewise, with a presentiment that luck would run against him. The policeman looked at the two curiously.“Of course,” said the umbrella man—“that is—well, you know how these mistakes occur—I—if it’s your umbrella I hope you’ll excuse me—I picked it up this morning in a restaurant—If you recognise it as yours, why—I hope you’ll—““Of course it’s mine,” said Soapy viciously.The ex-umbrella man retreated. The policeman hurried to assist a tall blonde in an opera cloak across the street in front of a street car that was approaching two blocks away.Soapy walked eastward through a street damaged by improvements. He hurled the umbrella wrathfully into an excavation. He muttered against the men who wear helmets and carry clubs. Because he wanted to fall into their clutches, they seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.At length Soapy reached one of the avenues to the east where the glitter and turmoil was but faint. He set his face down this toward Madison Square, for the homing instinct survives even when the home is a park bench.But on an unusually quiet corner Soapy came to a standstill. Here was an old church, quaint and rambling and gabled. Through one violet-stained window a soft light glowed, where, no doubt, the organist loitered over the keys, making sure of his mastery of the coming Sabbath anthem. For there drifted out to Soa py’s ears sweet music that caught and held him transfixed against the convolutions of the iron fence.The moon was above, lustrous and serene; vehicles and pedestrains were few; sparrows twittered sleepily in the eaves—for a little while the scene might have been a country churchyard. And the anthem that the organist played cemented Soapy to the iron fence, for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions and friends and immaculate thoughts and collars.The conjunction of Soapy’s receptive state of mind and the influences about the old church wrought a sudden and wonderful change in his soul. He viewed with swift horror the pit into which he had tumbled, the degraded days, unworthy desires, dead hopes, wrecked faculties, and base motives that made up his existence.And also in a moment his heart responded thrillingly to this novel mood. An instantaneous and strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate. He would pull himself out of the mire; he would make a man of himself again; he would conquer the evil that had taken possession of him. There was time; he was comparatively young yet; he would resurrect his old eager ambitions and pursue them without faltering. Those solemn but sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him. Tomorrow he would go into the roaring down-town district and find work. A fur importer had once offered him a place as driver. He would find him to-morrow and ask for the position. He would be somebody in the world. He would—Soapy felt a hand laid on his arm. He looked quickly round into the broad face of a policeman.“What are you doin’ here?” asked the officer.“Nothing’,” said Soapy.“Then come along,” said the policeman.“Three months on the Island,” said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.。
英国文学论文 警察与赞美诗 英文版
709202212学号：辽宁师范大学海华学院美国文学论文专业：英语年级：09级2班姓名：孙晓琳论文题目："The Cop and the anthem "in the view of interpersonal functionMajor Writing Style——Humor人际功能角度分析《警察与赞美诗》完成时间2012年6月9日Abstract:The interpersonal function is one of the three functions of the functional grammar, interpersonal function, mood, modality and evaluation system to analyze the "Cop and the Anthem" Writing Style - humor, interpersonal function to the understanding of the text can be seen provide an important means and appreciation.摘要：人际功能是功能语法的三大元功能之一，根据人际功能的语气、情态和评价系统来分析《警察与赞美诗》的主要写作特色——幽默，可以看出人际功能可以给文本的理解与欣赏提供重要手段。
Keywords:interpersonal functions; tone; modality; evaluation关键词：人际功能；语气；情态；评价A three meta-functions, one of the interpersonal function according to Halliday's Functional Grammar, Functional Grammar. Interpersonal function refers to the language through the exchange of words the role of other members of society with them to establish or maintain interpersonal relationships, in order to influence the behavior of others.Interpersonal function tone system, the modal system and, later, Martin added, and the proposed evaluation system to achievedialogue and sole functional analysis of human from "The Cop and the anthem " （A）the Soviet with the first police“Where’s the man that done that?”inquired the officer excite dly．“Don’t you figure out that I might have had something to do with it?”said Soapy，not without sarcasm，but friendly。
警察与赞美诗续写
续写《警察与赞美诗》In the prison, Soapy was not worried about his three meals a day any longer. However, he still regretted being caught by the cop. He wanted to find a job to support himself. On the contrary, the truth is that he was in the prison. There was no freedom. The room in the prison was dark. Soapy could’t see the sun from the room where he lived. It was cold and wet. Sometimes, when Soapy was asleep, the mouse would come out to bite his clothes. The food was not delicious at all, even it was not enough for Soapy to eat. He was still hungry after eating the food which was offered by the prison. Another thing, Soapy had to do hard labor every day in prison. The cops were always keeping watch on the criminals. If they saw someone having a rest, they would use the baton to beat the person heavily. Soapy could not have eaten his fill and he was not so energetic to do hard labor. As a result, he was always beaten by the cops.Soapy often recalled the anthem in the church. It had become the symbol of God. In his mind, the God wanted to be a soul redeemer and he heard the anthem when he passed the church. He was moved and motivated by the invisible power of the God. So Soapy was going to thoroughly remould himself. Even though he was in the prison now, his soul was free. Three months later, he could go out, then he will get free completely. If he continued to do bad things, even the God was not able to make him change. He was not only restrained in action, but also unfree in soul because hewould think his evil behaviors over and over again. The torture in the mind was much more terrible than the torture in body. Therefore, Soapy chose to obey the God’s will to be a new self.Day by day, the time flied quickly. Soapy was going to be free again. He was extremely fed up with the painful life in the prison. It was a nightmare and the torture for him. He swore that he would never come back again. He was determined to be a good citizen.Three months had passed and the cold winter had passed, too. It was a sunny morning. The chief police in the prison declared that Soapy can be released and leave the prison. Soapy was very excited, but at the meantime, he was confused. He did not know how to make a living by himself because he did not do any work before he wanted to change better, he did not know whether the job offered by the fur importer as a driver available or not. But he decided to have a try to ask for the position.Fortunately, the position was available. He told the truth to the fur importer. He understood the reali ty well and Soapy’s determination to turn over a new leaf. So he hired Soapy as a driver to transport the goods for his company.He worked very hard as a driver in the fur company. Everyone in the world had at least one skill. Soapy was good at driving. His boss was satisfied with his performance. But he just earned a little money one month from the boss, even though he needed to work fifteen hours one day. It was not enough to support his daily life. So Soapy wanted to ask his boss whether he can get a higher salary. However, the answer he got from the boss was exceeding his expectation. The boss refused to raise the salaryin a direct way. After that, his colleagues told him that they had been working here for three years now, but their salaries had never been raised at all. It seemed that the boss was a gentleman from the appearance and the dressing. In fact, the truth was that he was generous to himself butmean to other people, even his wife or children. They told Soapy a story about the boss. Sometimes, his wife wanted to buy a beautiful and fashionable dress. He always asked his wife to wait for a discount. Then he can a lot of money. The boss offered him a job when Soapy had nowhere to go. As a result, he left a good impression on Soapy at first. He thought the boss was a generous, kind and sympathetic person. He didn’t understand it until his colleagues told him something unknown. Now, he knew why the post for a driver was empty for such a long time. The reason is, no one wanted to work for the boss. All his colleagues had nothing to do if they didn’t work in the fur company. He knew what the real boss was at last. He was disappointed and frustrated. If he were a millionaire, he would be generous to everyone. He needed to pay for the rent and offer himself enough food. He made a decision quickly. He must find another job where he could get a higher salary. He did not have other talents except driving. He had to learn some skills used in future jobs. He also needed to perform well at present because if the boss knew he kept a slack hand at work, then his wage would be deducted.One day, he drove the car to the town to send some goods. When the traffic light was red at the crossroad, he saw a car rushed out from his left. Because the speed of the car was too fast, the driver crashed an old woman. The driver didn’t stop instead of running away. Coincidently, the cop was seeing all of it. But he didn’t stop the car. He just walkedaway without going to see the victim. Soapy was used to the seeing the behavior of the cop. When the traffic light became green, Soapy drove away.Several weeks later, Soapy’s friend told him that one grocery store was employing a clerk. The employee didn’t need to have any skill. He just needed to sell the goods in the shop. The salary was a little bit more than that of the fur company. The boss also offered free lunch for the employee. Soapy was very glad to hear the news. He prepared to go to the grocery store to find the job. But he didn’t have decent clothes. So he went to buy new clothes.When he arrived at the clothes shop, he chose one jacket, one pair of pants and shoes. The money he paid to the clerk was borrowed from his friend. The moment he paid the money, one tramp stole a pair of shoes because he had no shoes on his feet. The clerks in the shop saw it, so they caught up the tramp and gave him a good beat. The tramp was a little boy and he seemed to be nine or ten years old. He was very scrawny. Soapy remembered his past experience when he was a tramp. So Soapy paid for the boy. The boy run away immediately without saying thanks to Soapy. Soapy just bought the jacket and a pair of pants. He was worried about the new job because he had no new shoes. Luckily, the boss of the grocery store just saw Soapy; however, he didn’t the young man, so he left.Soapy had no choice but to wear the old and worn-out shoes to see the boss. When the boss saw the young man who came to find a job was the man who helped the poor boy, he didn’t ask any other questions about Soapy then he agreed to hire Soapy as a clerk in his grocery store. Soapy was so excited that he met a kind boss this time.Soapy worked very hard in the store. He treated every customer with passion and made many new customers to regular ones. The boss raised his salary because of his good performance. And they got along well with each other. Soapy came to save some money by himself. He wanted to use the money to help the people in need.Two years later, the boss wanted to move another city but he didn’t want to close the store. So he asked Soapy that whether Soapy wanted to be the new boss of the grocery store. Of course Soapy would like to. But he didn’t have enough money to buy the store from his boss. The boss trusted him completely. So they reached an agreement. Soapy can pay some money at first, then he can pay the remaining money in the following days.Soapy worked much harder than before. He came up with some good ideas to sell the goods. The business was enlarged soon and Soapy earned a lot of money. After paying the money to the former boss, he could save some money. He used these money to help the poor people. He bought food and clothes for them. Day after day, year after year, he opened many chain stores in many cities, so he became very rich. And he also established Soapy Foundation to do charity. Gradually, more and more people knew him. People can found him in the newspaper. He found his true love, too. Every people admired him and respected him because he was so rich. When the cop saw him in the street, they often asked there was anything they could help him. Soapy enjoyed his success. He also thought he was a great person.The sun was rising and the cop shouted that time for getting up to work now. Soapy rubbed his eyes and got out of bed to work.Soapy’s dream was broken. He still needed to stay in the prison for another month.（素材和资料部分来自网络，供参考。
英文+中文版警察与赞美诗 -
流浪汉A：索比穿着：破旧裤子，破皮鞋，马甲，黑领结流浪汉B：索普穿着：邋遢的便装警长警察旁白+法官侍者领班+市民（我）侍者+路人某一个晚上索比，索普睡在广场喷水池旁的长凳上，用三张星期日的报纸分别垫在上衣里、包着脚踝、盖住大腿，依然冻得瑟瑟发抖第二天早上两人急躁不安地躺在广场的长凳上，辗转反侧。
One nightSoapy, thorpe slept on his bench near the spurting fountain in the square, with the three newspapers, Sunday in the top cover, wrapped in ankle, thigh, still shiveringThe second day morningThe two men lay anxiously on the bench in the square, tossing and turning旁白：冬天快要到了，他们得想想办法去岛上呆上三个月，多年来，好客的布莱克韦尔岛的监狱一直是两人冬天的寓所。
不要求在地中海巡游，也不要求到南方去晒令人昏睡的太阳，有吃有住就好，还有志趣相投的伙伴们，也没有北风和警察的侵扰。
那样的生活多好啊~！Narrator: winter is coming, they have to think of a way to stay on the island for three months, for years, the hospitable blackwell prison island has always been two people's home in the winter. Does not require a cruise in the Mediterranean, also went to the south does not require the sun bask in a coma, had to eat a live, there are like-minded partners, nor the intrusion of the north wind and the police. That's a good life. 索比：（小声说）哼，那些以公益设施对城镇穷苦人没有一点作用，早点拆了才好，让我遭受精神的折磨，还不如法律来的好呢。
警察与赞美诗英文版
The cop and the anthem( 警察与赞美诗)At the gate of a prison(P: policeman 1 T: thief )P: (pulling the thief out of the gate)Ah, Mr. Black! It’s time to say goodbye!T: But officer! I want to stay here in prison. It’s too cold, and I have no place to stay. Let me stay here in prison! (walking into the gate)P: (pushing him away) Get out! You lazy thief! Go and look for a job! You’ll have some food and a room to live in.T: But wh at can I do ? I can’t do anything.P: That’s your problem. We can’t help you.( The wind starts to blow hard and the thief trembles with cold.)Outside a shopT:Oh, here’s a shop. The shop window is large and bright. I know what to do. (He picks up a stone and throws it at the window. The window is broken.. Then he walks about with his hands in his pocket and whistles)P: (Running to the window)Hey! What’s happening? Who broke the window? T: I did!P: What? You? You broke the window?T: Yes, of course, my dear policeman, I broke the window a minute ago.P: Go away! What do you think I am?T: I think you are a policeman and you should catch me! I am the one who broke the window.P:If you had broken it, you wouldn’t be standing here now! Get out of my way! (pushing him away)T: (running after him)But I did it ! I did it! (sighing) Oh, he is gone. It’s no use. I have to try again.Near the chair in a park(An old man is sleeping in a chair. The thief notices him, walks near him and takes away the bag from him.)O: (jumping up) Hey! What are you doing? That’s my bag!T;Yes, your bag . Now it’s in my hand. Go and tell the policeman!O: (Getting back his bag and catching the thief) Come with me to the police station!T: Thank you, sir. Thank you.O: (surprised) What?T: You know I have no food and no home. And it’s getting colder and colder. So I want to stay in prison. Please help me.P: (Feeling pity for him) Oh, what a poor man! Let me help you. I have some bread and some money. Don’t be a thief anymore. Poor man, poor man! ( He gives the thief some bread and some money, then leaves)T: ( worried ) But what should I do ? Where should I go this evening?In a Restaurant(W: waitress T: Thief)W: Good morning, sir!T: Good morning!W:Sit down, please. Here’s the menu. What will you have?T:At first, I’d like a bowl of vegetable soup.W: (writing down) A bowl of vegetable soup.T: Then I’ll have some steak and chicken. At last, I’ll have a cup of coffee and a cigar.W: Steak, chicken, coffee and a cigar. Er, excuse me, but this is a very big meal. Do you have enough money?T: What?! What did you say? Do you often ask such questions?W:I’m sorry. I’ll bring your food right away.(Later, the thief eats up all his food)W: Was everything all right, sir?T: The food was very nice. I like it very much.W:Thank you, sir. Here’s your bill, si r. Twenty dollars, please.T: Very well, but now, I want to tell you that I haven’t twenty dollars. I don’t even have forty cents.W: I see, will you come with me, please?T: (standing up and following the waitress) Of course. The policeman is waiting for me, isn’t he ?(Two men appear suddenly and walk to the thief )T:I… I… don’t understand , Who are they?)“ We are the people you are waiting for ! ”(They give the thief a good beating.)In front of a church( The thief stands outside of the church and listens to the music of “Silent Night”T:What beautiful music! I often listened to it when I was a boy. Ah! How different my life is! But look at me now! What am I? Who am I? Oh, I don’t want to be a thief! I want to be a good man now. I’m not old. I’m going to work. I can help the others.( A blind man appears. The thief helps him walk across the street.)B:It’s very kind of you.( A lady drops her purse. The thief picks it up and gives it back to her.)(later, a policeman comes)P: Hey! You! What are you doing here?T: Nothing, just listening to the music.P: Listening to the music?Y: Yes, I’m just standing here and listening to the music.P: Oh, no. Didn’t I see you this morning? Of course! You are the one who was standing near that broken window. I think you broke the window after all!(The thief runs away quickly. Two other policemen run after him and catch him by the arm..T: (shouting desperately) But officer! I’ not a thief now! I don’t want to be a thief any more! I’m a good man now ! I’m a good man!(The music of “silent night” echoes on the stage.)。
警察与赞美诗原文（Thepoliceandthehymn）
警察与赞美诗原文（The police and the hymn）他在麦迪逊广场的长椅索比急躁不安地。
当大雁的夜晚，当妇女没有sealskin大衣成长善待自己的丈夫，当soapy动作不易对他在公园的长凳上，你会知道，冬天已近在咫尺。
一片枯叶落在苏比的膝上。
那是杰克冻人的名片。
杰克对麦迪逊广场的普通居民，并给出了他的年度呼叫招呼。
在四街他将他的名片递给北风的角落，对露天公寓的门，让居民有所准备。
苏比的心灵成为事实，时间到了，他决定自己加入到提供对未来严谨的方法和手段单一委员会认识到。
因此，他急躁不安地在长凳上。
索比越冬的抱负并不算最高的。
其中并无地中海邮轮的考虑，催眠南方的天空在维苏威湾漂流。
岛上三个月就是他的灵魂的渴望。
三个月的保证板和床和志趣相投，远离Boreas和你们的士兵，似乎苏比。
多年来，好客的布莱克威尔一直是他的冬季寓所。
正如福气比他好的纽约人买票去棕榈滩和里维埃拉每年冬天，索比也使他的年逃亡到岛上不起眼的安排。
现在时间到了。
就在前一天晚上三个安息日的报纸，分布在他的外套，他的脚踝、盖住大腿，也没能抵挡住严寒的喷水池旁的长凳上在古老的广场。
所以岛上出现大的和及时的苏比的脑海里。
他蔑视慈善机构为城市家属所做的规定。
在索比眼里，法律比慈善更为良性。
有无穷无尽的机构，市政和慈善，而他可能开始接受住宿与伙食简单生活。
但一个肥皂的骄傲的精神慈善礼物是行不通的。
如果不是硬币，你必须为慈善事业的每一个利益付出精神上的羞辱。
罗楼迦有了他的布鲁图斯，每一张慈善床都必须有洗澡的费用，每一块面包都是对私人和个人调查的补偿。
因此，当法律的客人是更好的，尽管它是按规则进行的，不过分干涉一个绅士的私事。
肥皂，决定去岛上，立刻着手实现自己的愿望。
做这件事有很多简单的方法。
最舒服的是在一家豪华的饭店吃饭；然后，宣布破产后，交由默默耕耘，不吵不闹到警察。
一个容纳县长将做休息。
苏比离开他的长凳，漫步走出广场，穿过平坦的沥青海，百老汇和第五大道在那里汇合。
警察与赞美诗续写
续写《警察与赞美诗》In the prison, Soapy was not worried about his three meals a day any longer. However, he still regretted being caught by the cop. He wanted to find a job to support himself. On the contrary, the truth is that he was in the prison. There was no freedom. The room in the prison was dark. Soapy could’t see the sun from the room where he lived. It was cold and wet. Sometimes, when Soapy was asleep, the mouse would come out to bite his clothes. The food was not delicious at all, even it was not enough for Soapy to eat. He was still hungry after eating the food which was offered by the prison. Another thing, Soapy had to do hard labor every day in prison. The cops were always keeping watch on the criminals. If they saw someone having a rest, they would use the baton to beat the person heavily. Soapy could not have eaten his fill and he was not so energetic to do hard labor. As a result, he was always beaten by the cops.Soapy often recalled the anthem in the church. It had become the symbol of God. In his mind, the God wanted to be a soul redeemer and he heard the anthem when he passed the church. He was moved and motivated by the invisible power of the God. So Soapy was going to thoroughly remould himself. Even though he was in the prison now, his soul was free. Three months later, he could go out, then he will get free completely. If hecontinued to do bad things, even the God was not able to make him change. He was not only restrained in action, but also unfree in soul because he would think his evil behaviors over and over again. The torture in the mind was much more terrible than the torture in body. Therefore, Soapy chose to obey the God’s will to be a new self.Day by day, the time flied quickly. Soapy was going to be free again. He was extremely fed up with the painful life in the prison. It was a nightmare and the torture for him. He swore that he would never come back again. He was determined to be a good citizen.Three months had passed and the cold winter had passed, too. It was a sunny morning. The chief police in the prison declared that Soapy can be released and leave the prison. Soapy was very excited, but at the meantime, he was confused. He did not know how to make a living by himself because he did not do any work before he wanted to change better, he did not know whether the job offered by the fur importer as a driver available or not. But he decided to have a try to ask for the position.Fortunately, the position was available. He told the truth to the fur importer. He understood the reality well and Soapy’s determination to turn over a new leaf. So he hired Soapy as a driver to transport the goods for his company.He worked very hard as a driver in the fur company. Everyone in the world had at least one skill. Soapy was good at driving. His boss was satisfied with his performance. But he just earned a little money one month from the boss, even though he needed to work fifteen hours one day. It was not enough to support his daily life. So Soapy wanted to ask his boss whether he can get a higher salary. However, the answer he got from the boss was exceeding his expectation. The boss refused to raise the salary in a direct way. After that, his colleagues told him that they had been working here for three years now, but their salaries had never been raised at all. It seemed that the boss was a gentleman from the appearance and the dressing. In fact, the truth was that he was generous to himself but mean to other people, even his wife or children. They told Soapy a story about the boss. Sometimes, his wife wanted to buy a beautiful and fashionable dress. He always asked his wife to wait for a discount. Then he can a lot of money. The boss offered him a job when Soapy had nowhere to go. As a result, he left a good impression on Soapy at first. He thought the boss was a generous, kind and sympathetic person. He didn’t understand it until his colleagues told him something unknown. Now, he knew why the post for a driver was empty for such a long time. The reason is, no one wanted to work for the boss. All his colleagues had nothing to do if they didn’t workin the fur company. He knew what the real boss was at last. He was disappointed and frustrated. If he were a millionaire, he would be generous to everyone. He needed to pay for the rent and offer himself enough food. He made a decision quickly. He must find another job where he could get a higher salary. He did not have other talents except driving. He had to learn some skills used in future jobs. He also needed to perform well at present because if the boss knew he kept a slack hand at work, then his wage would be deducted.One day, he drove the car to the town to send some goods. When the traffic light was red at the crossroad, he saw a car rushed out from his left. Because the speed of the car was too fast, the driver crashed an old woman. The driver didn’t stop instead of running away. Coincidently, the cop was seeing all of it. But he didn’t stop the car. He just walked away without going to see the victim. Soapy was used to the seeing the behavior of the cop. When the traffic light became green, Soapy drove away.Several weeks later, Soapy’s friend told him that one grocery store was employing a clerk. The employee didn’t need to have any skill. He just needed to sell the goods in the shop. The salary was a little bit more than that of the fur company. The boss also offered free lunch for the employee. Soapy was very glad to hear the news. He prepared to go to the grocerystore to find the job. But he didn’t have decent clothes. So he went to buy new clothes.When he arrived at the clothes shop, he chose one jacket, one pair of pants and shoes. The money he paid to the clerk was borrowed from his friend. The moment he paid the money, one tramp stole a pair of shoes because he had no shoes on his feet. The clerks in the shop saw it, so they caught up the tramp and gave him a good beat. The tramp was a little boy and he seemed to be nine or ten years old. He was very scrawny. Soapy remembered his past experience when he was a tramp. So Soapy paid for the boy. The boy run away immediately without saying thanks to Soapy. Soapy just bought the jacket and a pair of pants. He was worried about the new job because he had no new shoes. Luckily, the boss of the grocery store just saw Soapy; however, he didn’t the young man, so he left.Soapy had no choice but to wear the old and worn-out shoes to see the boss. When the boss saw the young man who came to find a job was the man who helped the poor boy, he didn’t ask any other questions about Soapy then he agreed to hire Soapy as a clerk in his grocery store. Soapy was so excited that he met a kind boss this time.Soapy worked very hard in the store. He treated every customer with passion and made many new customers to regular ones. The boss raised hissalary because of his good performance. And they got along well with each other. Soapy came to save some money by himself. He wanted to use the money to help the people in need.Two years later, the boss wanted to move another city but he didn’t want to close the store. So he asked Soapy that whether Soapy wanted to be the new boss of the grocery store. Of course Soapy would like to. But he didn’t have enough money to buy the store from his boss. The boss trusted him completely. So they reached an agreement. Soapy can pay some money at first, then he can pay the remaining money in the following days.Soapy worked much harder than before. He came up with some good ideas to sell the goods. The business was enlarged soon and Soapy earned a lot of money. After paying the money to the former boss, he could save some money. He used these money to help the poor people. He bought food and clothes for them. Day after day, year after year, he opened many chain stores in many cities, so he became very rich. And he also established Soapy Foundation to do charity. Gradually, more and more people knew him. People can found him in the newspaper. He found his true love, too. Every people admired him and respected him because he was so rich. When the cop saw him in the street, they often asked there was anything theycould help him. Soapy enjoyed his success. He also thought he was a great person.The sun was rising and the cop shouted that time for getting up to work now. Soapy rubbed his eyes and got out of bed to work.Soapy’s dream was broken. He still needed to stay in the prison for another month.。
警察与赞美诗英语 原文分析
Original TextThe Cop and the Anthemby O .Henry1 On his bench in Madison Square Soapy moved uneasily. When wild goose honk high of nights, and when women without sealskin coats grow kind to their husbands, and when Soapy moves uneasily on his bench in the park, you may know that winter is near at hand.2 A dead leaf fell in Soapy’s lap. That was Jack Frost’s card. Jack is kind to the regular denizens of Madison Square, and gives fair warning of his annual call. At the corners of streets his four hands his pasteboard to the North Wind, footman of the mansion of All Outdoors, so that the inhabitants there of may make ready.3 Soapy’s mind became cognisant of the fact that the time had come for him to resolve himself into a singular Committee of Ways and Means to provide against the coming rigour. And therefore he moved uneasily on his bench.4 The hibernatorial ambitions of Soapy were not of the highest. In them were no considerations of Mediterranean cruises, of soporific Southern skies or drifting in the Vesuvian Bay. Three months on the Island was what his soul craved. Three months of assured board and bed and congenial company, safe from Boreas and bluecoats, seemed to Soapy the essence of things desirable.5 For years the hospitable Blackwell’s had been his winter quarters. Just as his more fortunate fellow New Yorkers had bought their tickets to Palm Beach and the Riviera each winter, so Soapy had made his humble arrangements for his annual hegira to the Island. And now the time was come. On the previous night three Sabbath newspapers, distributed beneath his coat, about his ankles and over his lap, had failed to repulse the cold as he slept on his bench near the spurting fountain in the ancient square. So the Island loomed large and timely in Soapy’s mind. He scorned the provisions made in the name of charity for the city’s dependents. In Soapy’s opinion the Law was more benign than Philanthropy. There was an endless round of institutions, municipal and eleemosynary, on which he might set out and receive lodging and food accordant with the simple life. But to one of Soapy’s proud spirit the gifts of charity are encumbered. If not in coin you must pay in humiliation of spirit for every benefit received at the hands of philanthropy. As Cesar had his Brutus, every bed of charity must have its toll of a bath, every loaf of bread its compensation of a private and personal inquisition. Wherefore it is better to be a guest of the law, which though conducted by rules, does not meddle unduly with a gentleman’s private affairs.6 Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once set about accomplishing his desire. There were many easy ways of doing this. The pleasantest was to dine luxuriously at some expensive restaurant; and then, after declaring insolvency, be handed over quietly and without uproar to a policeman. An accommodatingmagistrate would do the rest.7 Soapy left his bench and strolled out of the square and across the level sea of asphalt, where Broadway and Fifth Avenue flow together. Up Broadway he turned, and halted at a glittering café, where are gathered together nightly the choicest products of the grape, the silkworm and the protoplasm.8 Soapy had confidence in himself from the lowest button of his vest upward. He was shaven, and his coat was decent and his neat black, ready-tied four-in-hand had been presented to him by a lady missionary on Thanksgiving Day. If he could reach a table in the restaurant unsuspected, success would be his. The portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiter’s mind. A roasted mallard duck, thought Soapy, would be about the thing—with a bottle of Chablis, and then Camembert, a demi-tasse and a cigar. One dollar for the cigar would be enough. The total would not be so high as to call forth any supreme manifestation of revenge from the café management; and yet the meat would leave him filled and happy for the journey to his winter refuge.9 But as Soapy set foot inside the restaurant door the head waiter’s eye fell upon his frayed trousers and decadent shoes. Strong and ready hands turned him about and conveyed him in silence and haste to the sidewalk and averted the ignoble fate of the menaced mallard.10 Soapy turned off Broadway. It seemed that his route to the coveted island was not to be an epicurean one. Some other way of entering limbo must be thought of.11 At a corner of Sixth Avenue electric lights and cunningly displayed wares behind plate-glass made a shop window conspicuous. Soapy took a cobble-stone and dashed it through the glass. People came running round the corner, a policeman in the lead. Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of brass buttons.12 “Where’s the man that done that?” inquired the officer excitedly.13 “Don’t you figure out that I might have had something to do with it?” said Soapy, not without sarcasm, but friendly, as one greets good fortune.14 The pol iceman’s mind refused to accept Soapy even as a clue. Men who smash windows do not remain to parley with the law’s minions. They take to their heels. The policeman saw a man halfway down the block running to catch a car. With drawn club he joined in the pursuit. Soapy, with disgust in his heart, loafed along, twice unsuccessful.15 On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant of no great pretensions. It catered to large appetites and modest purses. Its crockery and atmosphere were thick; its soup and napery thin. Into this place Soapy took his accusive shoes and tell-tale trousers without challenge. At a table he sat and consumed beefsteak, flap-jacks, doughnuts, and pie. And then to the waiter he betrayed the fact that the minutest coin and himself were strangers.16 “Now, get busy and call a cop,” said Soapy. “And don’t keep a gentlemanwaiting.”16 “No cop for youse,” said the waiter, with a voice like butter cakes and an eye like the cherry in a Manhattan cocktail. “Hey, Con!”17 Neatly upon his left ear on the callous pavement two waiters pitched Soapy. He arose, joint by joint, as a carpenter’s rule opens, and beat the dust from his clothes. Arrest seemed but a rosy dream. The Island seemed very far away. A policeman who stood before a drug store two doors away laughed and walked down the street.18 Five blocks Soapy travelled before his courage permitted him to woo capture again. This time the opportunity presented what he fatuously termed to himself a “cinch.” A young woman of a modest and pleasing guise was standing before a show window gazing with sprightly interest at its display of shaving mugs and inkstands, and two yards from the window a large policeman of severe demeanour leaned against a water-plug.19 It was Soapy’s design to assume the rule of the despicable and execrated “masher.” The refined and elegant appearance of his victim and the contiguity of the conscientious cop encouraged him to believe that he would soon feel the pleasant official clutch upon his arm that would ensure his winter quarters of the right little, tight little isle.20 Soapy straightened the lady missionary’s ready-made tie, dragged his shrinking cuffs into the open, set his hat at a killing cant and sidled toward the young women. He made e yes at her, was taken with sudden coughs and “hems,” smiled, smirked, and went brazenly through the impudent and contemptible litany of the “masher.” With half an eye Soapy saw that the policeman was watching him fixedly. The young woman moved away a few steps, and again bestowed her absorbed attention upon the shaving mugs. Soapy followed, boldly stepping to her side, raised his hat and said: “Ah there, Bedelia! Don’t you want to come and play in my yard?”21 The policeman was still looking. The persecuted young woman had but to beckon a finger and Soapy would be practically en route for his insular haven. Already he imagined he could feel the cosy warmth of the station-house. The young woman faced him and, stretching out a hand, caught Soapy’s coat slee ve.22 “Sure, Mike,” she said joyfully, “if you’ll blow me to a pail of suds. I’d have spoke to you sooner, but the cop was watching.”With the young woman playing the clinging ivy to his oak Soapy walked past the policeman overcome with gloom. He seemed doomed to liberty.23 At the next corner he shook off his companion and ran. He halted in the district where by night are found the lightest streets, hearts, vows, and librettos. Women in furs and men in greatcoats moved gaily in the wintry air. A sudden fear seized Soapy that some dreadful enchantment had rendered him immune to arrest. The thought brought a little of panic upon it, and when he came upon anotherpoliceman lounging grandly in front of a transplendent theatre he caught at the immediate straw of “disorderly conduct.”24 On the sidewalk Soapy began to yell drunken gibberish at the top of his harsh voice. He danced, howled, raved, and otherwise disturbed the welkin.25 The policeman twirled his club, turned his back to Soapy and remarked toa citizen: “Tis one of them Yale lads celebratin’ the goose egg they give to the Hartford College. Noisy; but no harm. We’ve instructions to lave them be.”26 Disconsolate, Soapy ceased his unavailing racket. Would never a policeman lay hands on him? In his fancy the Island seemed an unattainable Arcadia. He buttoned his thin coat against the chilling wind.27 In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man lighting a cigar at a swinging light. His silk umbrella he had set by the door on entering. Soapy stepped inside, secured the umbrella and sauntered off with it slowly. The man at the cigar light followed hastily.28 “My umbrella,” he said sternly.29 “Oh, is it?” sneered Soapy, adding insult to petit larceny. “Well, why don’t you call a policeman? I took it. Your umbrella! Why don’t you call a cop? There stands one on the corner.”30 The umbrella owner slowed his steps. Soapy did likewise, with a presentiment that luck would run against him. The policeman looked at the two curiously.31“Of course,” said the umbrella man—“that is—well, you know how these mistakes occur—I—if it’s your umbrella I hope you’ll excuse me—I picked it up this morning in a restaurant—If you recognise it as yours, why—I hope you’ll—“32 “Of course it’s mine,” said Soapy viciously.33 The ex-umbrella man retreated. The policeman hurried to assist a tall blonde in an opera cloak across the street in front of a street car that was approaching two blocks away.34 Soapy walked eastward through a street damaged by improvements. He hurled the umbrella wrathfully into an excavation. He muttered against the men who wear helmets and carry clubs. Because he wanted to fall into their clutches, they seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.35 At length Soapy reached one of the avenues to the east where the glitter and turmoil was but faint. He set his face down this toward Madison Square, for the homing instinct survives even when the home is a park bench.36 But on an unusually quiet corner Soapy came to a standstill. Here was an old church, quaint and rambling and gabled. Through one violet-stained window a soft light glowed, where, no doubt, the organist loitered over the keys, making sure of his mastery of the coming Sabbath anthem. For there drifted out to Soapy’s ears sweet music that caught and held him transfixed against the convolutions of the iron fence.37 The moon was above, lustrous and serene; vehicles and pedestrains were few; sparrows twittered sleepily in the eaves—for a little while the scene mighthave been a country churchyard. And the anthem that the organist played cemented Soapy to the iron fence, for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions and friends and immaculate thoughts and collars.38 The conjunction of Soapy’s receptive state of mind and the influences about the old church wrought a sudden and wonderful change in his soul. He viewed with swift horror the pit into which he had tumbled, the degraded days, unworthy desires, dead hopes, wrecked faculties, and base motives that made up his existence.39 And also in a moment his heart responded thrillingly to this novel mood. An instantaneous and strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate. He would pull himself out of the mire; he would make a man of himself again; he would conquer the evil that had taken possession of him. There was time; he was comparatively young yet; he would resurrect his old eager ambitions and pursue them without faltering. Those solemn but sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him. Tomorrow he would go into the roaring down-town district and find work. A fur importer had once offered him a place as driver. He would find him to-morrow and ask for the position. He would be somebody in the world. He would—40 Soapy felt a hand laid on his arm. He looked quickly round into the broad face of a policeman.41 “What are you doin’ here?” asked the officer.42 “Nothing’,” said Soapy.43“Then come along,” said the polic eman.44“Three months on the Island,” said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.。
警察与赞美诗英语论文
When I was in middle school,my Chinese teacher had introduced us that O.Henry was one of the most famous short story novelist.And he was widely regarded as the father of modern American short story. His works often had an impressive characterist that the ending of the works must be. contrary to your expectation..From where I stand ,I appreciate this type of works completely.first it catch my attention all the time until it ends.i feel absorbed in it and eagerly want to know the ending.attracting readers attentions ,in my opinion ,is the most important factor to a story.second,an dramatic ending will give the reader an impressive impression at the end and get the readers to deeply think about the theme that the author want to tell us .It is what the saying say that good works always teach people a lot . The Gift of the Magi and The cop and the Anthem are the typical stories of this characterist .Apart from this story theme,it is a very funny story.Soapy ,the character,was a penniless and homeless tramp who lived in Madison Square .Faced with the coming of winter,he had to find some ways that can help him pass the cold winter happily and savely Then he remembered his winter life in Blackwell Island. “Three months on the Island was what his soul craved. Three months of assured board and bed and congenial company, safe from Boreas and bluecoats, seemed to Soapy the essence of things desirable”Soapy thought.So he decided to break the law then he would be sent to the Island by the police .thinking about this ,he set out to do it.At first he didn’t pay for his meal on purpose in a restaurant ,hoping that the waiter would call the police.but the waiter only to rely him that No cop for youse and pitched Soapy.then he pretended to be despicable and execrated “masher.”to flirt with a elegant lady.but to his surprise,the elegant lady was a harlot.Eventually no matter what kinds of bad things he had done,the cop never arrested him. “He muttered against the men who wear helmets and carry clubs. Because he wanted to fall into their clutches, they seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.”With too much disappointment,Soapy came to a standstill.Here was a old church. . For there drifted out to Soapy’s ears sweet music that caught and held him transfixed ag ainst the convolutions of the iron fence. the influences about the old church wrought a sudden and wonderful change in his soul An instantaneous and strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate .he said to himself that some day he will be somebody in the future as long as he tries his best. However a cop came to him when he was thiking about his excellent future “ What are you doin’ here?” asked the officer.“Nothing’,” said Soapy.“Then come along,” said the policeman.“Three months on the Island,” said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.How ridiculous and dramatic the ending was.when Soapy spared every effort to break the law in order that he would be arrested and sent to the Island,the cop treated him as a king that who could do no wrong.”finally he was arrested only because he was sitting near the church to appreciate the sweet music and plan his successful future.As far as I concerned,this kind of writing pattern stand out the decayed and disorderly society at author’s time completely which shows that ordinary people’s hard life at that time and expresses author’s sympathy with the poor people and intense animadversion on the authorities..。
警察与赞美诗
• When Soapy breaks the glass of the shop, mashes with a young woman, takes the wrong umbrella and conduct disorderly, the cop doesn’t arrest him. On the contrary, when he does nothing, the cop arrests him.
• 4.Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of brass buttons.
metonymy
• 5.The policeman hurried to assist a tall blonde in an opera cloak across the street in front of a street car that was approaching two blocks away.
Disorderly conduct
In front of the theatre, he acts a drunkard to disturb, but the cop thinks he is a Yale lad celebrating a football game which beats the team of Hartford College.
“Mashing” with a young woman
Soapy sees a young woman, Then he tries to mash her so as to be caught by the cop who is looking at him. Unexpectedly, she gives him a big hug and asks him to buy her a pail of suds. She is a prostitute, so Soapy dumps her at the next corner.
《警察与赞美诗》英文梗概
A New York City hobo named Soapy,who sets out to get arrested so he can avoid sleeping in the cold winter as a guest of the city jail.Soapy's ploys伎俩include swindling诈骗a restaurant into serving him an expensive meal, breaking the plate-glass window of a luxury shop, repeating his eatery exploit at a humble简陋的diner, sexually harassing a young woman, pretending to be publicly intoxicated喝醉to make troubles, and stealing another man's umbrella.However, all of these attempts are quickly exposed as failures.Based on these events, Soapy despairs of his goal of getting arrested and imprisoned.As O. Henry describes events, the small church has a working organ机构and a practicing organist风琴演奏者. As Soapy listens to the church organ play an anthem圣歌, he experiences a spiritual epiphany 神灵显现then he resolves决定to cease停止to be homeless, end his life as a tramp afflicted 苦恼with unemployment, and regain his self-respect.As Soapy stands on the street and considers the plan for his future, however, a policeman taps him on the shoulder and asks him what he is doing. When Soapy answers “Nothing,”his fate is sealed未知: he has been arrested for loitering闲荡. In the magistrate’s法官court on the following day, he is convicted定罪of a misdemeanor行为不端and is sentenced to three months in Blackwell's Island, the New York City jail.。
警察与赞美诗 剧本
S: No, no, no....Please! Don’t come close! I’ll call the police! No! Help!
P: You such a lying ass!! Don’t run! I’m excellent! Trust me!!
Scene Three
S: And that cute fat cop will catch me, and accuse me, for molesting a woman! Well! Hello! The bed in jail. I’m coming!
S: Hi, Babe, Have you ever seen me before? You just look so familiar! Wanna a chat? Or, come to my place? En hen? We can go deep inside to our topic. Hahahaha!
S: I don’t even know Obama, I only know you…
G: whatever, stop nagging me, or I will treat you as your neighbor Zang Tianshuo, possibly a life time in prison…
Soapy：Oh no, sir, I did it, seriously! I did it! ： Don't go~
Police：Get away! ：
Soapy：Uncle Cop, show mercy on me, I ： wanna go to the jail, 555555555~~~
Soapy：…A shop window! Haha~ I will call up my ： cop brother with your anthem of cracking~
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» Soapy had repeatedly tested: eat not to give money to disrupt social order, Dally with women in front of the police... The results are repeatedly try and loss. When soapy helplessly pacing to an ancient church, the hymn to play sweet music made him drunk.
Extract1
• The moon was above,lustrous and serene; vehicles and pedestrains were few.
• for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions and friends and immaculate thoughts and collars.
• He would be somebody in the world.
Extract2
• An instantaneous and strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate. He would pull himself out of the mire; he would make a man of himself again; he would conquer the evil that had taken possession of him. There was time; he was comparatively young yet; he would resurrect his old eager ambitions and pursue them without faltering. Those solemn but sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him.
singular Committee of Ways and Means to
provide against the coming rigour. And therefore he moved uneasily on his bench.
• For years the hospitable Blackwell’s had been his winter quarters. Just as his more fortunate fellow New Yorkers had bought their tickets to Palm Beach and the Riviera each winte humble arrangements for his annual hegira to the Island. And now the time was come
The Cop and the Anthem by O ·Henry
BRIEF INTRODUCTION:
Soapy’s mind became cognisant of the fact that the time had come for him to resolve himself into a
» The soul of his incredible changes have taken place in all of a sudden, a strong impulse, bumps that propels his struggle against the bad luck.
» Tomorrow, he will go to the busy urban areas to find a job, he wants to mix the people in this world. He will... As Sue than heart to full of hope and motivation, but it happened that was sent to prison by the police. The authors use a relaxed and humorous style describes the soapy the bum to achieve the purpose of his funny and ridiculous attempt.