mrsdalloway达洛维夫人

Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.
达洛维夫人说她要亲自去买些花。

For Lucy had her work cut out for her. The doors would be taken off their hinges; umpelmayer's men were coming. And then, thought Clarissa Dalloway, what a morning —fresh as if issued to children on a beach.
因为露西已有一份合适的工作要做。

要把门从铰链上卸下来；昂伯尔梅尔公司的人就要到了。

然后，克拉丽莎·达洛维思忖，多惬意的早晨啊——空气清新得仿佛是特意送给海滩上的孩子们似的。

What a lark! What a plunge! For so it had always seemed to her, when, with a little squeak of the hinges, which she could hear now, she had burst open the French windows and plunged at Bourton into the open air. How fresh, how calm, stiller than this of course, the air was in the early morning; like the flap of a wave; the kiss of a wave; chill and sharp and yet (for a girl of eighteen as she then was) solemn, feeling as she did, standing there at the open window, that something awful was about to happen; looking at the flowers, at the trees with the smoke winding off them and the rooks rising,falling; standing and looking until Peter Walsh said, "Musing among the vegetables"—was that it—"I prefer men to cauliflowers"—was that it He must have said it at breakfast one morning when she had gone out on to the terrace—Peter Walsh. He would be back from India one of these days, June or July, she forgot which, for his letters were awfully dull; it was his sayings one remembered; his eyes, his pocket-knife, his smile, his grumpiness and, when millions of things had utterly vanished—how strange it was!—a few sayings like this about cabbages.
多么动听的百灵！多么迅疾的举动！对她来说过去似乎总是这样，随着合叶轻微的吱吱声，这声音她现在也能听到，她会突然打开落地窗，扎到伯顿的户外。

那里清晨的空气多清新、多宁静，自然比眼前的更静谧，宛如浪涛拍打，又像浪花亲吻，冰冷刺骨却又（对当时她这样芳龄十八的姑娘来说）显得肃穆，那时她对着敞开的窗伫立着，预感到某种可怕的事即将发生。

她赏着花，凝视着雾霭缭绕的树丛和飞起飞落的白嘴鸭，这样站着凝视着直到听见彼得·沃尔什说：“在蔬菜中冥想吗”——说了那样的话吗“我喜欢人胜过花椰菜”——说了那样的话吗他——彼得·沃尔什一定在一天早晨吃早餐时说了那样的话，那时她已走到外面的阳台了。

近日他会从印度归来，是六月还是七月，她忘了，因为他写的信异常乏味。

他的话她倒记得。

他的双眼、他的折叠刀、他的微笑、他的暴躁，千百万件往事都已如烟消散——真怪！几句如此有关卷心菜的话却浮现出来。

She stiffened a little on the kerb, waiting for Durtnall's van to pass. A charming woman, Scrope Purvis thought her (knowing her as one does know people who live next door to one in Westminster); a touch of the bird about her, of the jay, blue-green,
light, vivacious, though she was over fifty, and grown very white since her illness. There she perched, never seeing him, waiting to cross, very upright.
她站在马路边上的一个大石头旁，稍微挺了挺身子，等达特奈尔公司的运货车开过。

真是个迷人的女人，斯克罗普·珀维斯这样认为（他熟悉她就如你了解住在威斯敏斯特区隔壁的人那样）。

她有一点鸟的特性，犹如松鸦，青绿、轻快、活泼，尽管她已五十有余，并且患病以来愈显苍白。

她倚在马路边上，压根儿没看到他，直立着身子，等着过街。

For having lived in Westminster—how many years now over twenty,—one feels even in the midst of the traffic, or waking at night, Clarissa was positive, a particular hush, or solemnity; an indescribable pause; a suspense (but that might be her heart, affected, they said, by influenza) before Big Ben strikes. There! Out it boomed. First a warning, musical; then the hour, irrevocable. The leaden circles dissolved in the air. Such fools we are, she thought, crossing Victoria Street. For Heaven only knows why one loves it so, how one sees it so,making it up, building it round one, tumbling it, creating it every moment afresh; but the veriest frumps, the most dejected of miseries sitting on doorsteps (drink their downfall) do the same; can't be dealt with, she felt positive, by Acts of Parliament for that very reason: they love life. In people's eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June.
在威斯敏斯特区住了——到如今多少年有二十几年吧——克拉丽莎可以肯定，即使置身于川流不息的大街，亦或夜晚梦醒，你都会觉察出一种特有的静谧，或是肃穆；一种难以名状的停滞；大本钟敲响之前的心神不宁（不过他们说，那或许是由于她的心脏受了流感的影响）。

听啊！钟声隆隆地响起来了。

开始是预报，悦耳动听；接着是报时，精确无误。

如铅般沉重的音波在空气中渐渐消逝。

她一边穿过维多利亚大街，一边思忖，我们真是大笨蛋。

因为只有天晓得为何人如此热爱生活，怎样看待生活，为之精心构思，围绕自己来构建生活，又将其推翻，每时每刻都在刷新重建；但是即便衣着过时之极的老顽固，坐在门阶上异常懊丧苦恼之辈（酗酒致使他们潦倒）也这般看待生活；她毫不怀疑，正是由于那个原因，即使是议会法案也无可奈何：人们就是热爱生活。

在人们眼里，在轻盈的、沉重的、艰难的步履中，在吼叫和喧嚣里，在四轮马车、汽车、公共汽车、有蓬货车、胸前身后都挂有广告牌的脚步沉重、摇摇摆摆的广告员中，铜管乐队，手摇风琴，在庆功的欢呼声和铃儿的叮当声以及头顶上空飞机奇怪的高歌声中，有她热爱的事物。

生活、伦敦、这六月的时刻。

For it was the middle of June. The War was over, except for some one like Mrs. Foxcroft at the Embassy last night eating her heart out because that nice boy was killed and now the old Manor House must go to a cousin; or Lady Bexborough who opened a bazaar,
they said, with the telegram in her hand, John, her favourite, killed; but it was over; thank Heaven—over. It was June. The King and Queen were at the Palace. And everywhere, though it was still so early, there was a beating, a stirring of galloping ponies, tapping of cricket bats; Lords, Ascot, Ranelagh and all the rest of it; wrapped in the soft mesh of the grey-blue morning air, which, as the day wore on, would unwind them, and set down on their lawns and pitches the bouncing ponies, whose forefeet just struck the ground and up they sprung, the whirling young men,and laughing girls in their transparent muslins who, even now, after dancing all night, were taking their absurd woolly dogs for a run; and even now, at this hour, discreet old dowagers were shooting out in their motor cars on errands of mystery;and the shopkeepers were fidgeting in their windows with their paste and diamonds, their lovely old sea-green brooches in eighteenth-century settings to tempt Americans (but one must economise, not buy things rashly for Elizabeth),and she, too, loving it as she did with an absurd and faithful passion, being part of it, since her people were courtiers once in the time of the Georges, she, too, was going that very night to kindle and illuminate; to give her party. But how strange, on entering the Park, the silence; the mist;the hum; the slow-swimming happy ducks; the pouched birds waddling; and who should be coming along with his back against the Government buildings, most appropriately, carrying a despatch box stamped with the Royal Arms, who but Hugh Whitbread; her old friend Hugh—the admirable Hugh!
因为时值六月中旬。

战事停止了，除了如福克斯克罗夫特夫人一样的人以外，昨晚她在大使馆悲痛欲绝，她的好儿子战死了，如今那座古老的庄园只好归于她侄子名下；还有贝克斯伯勒女士，人们说她主持义卖开幕时，手中还握着电报，通知她最疼的儿子约翰阵亡了。

不过战事停止了，感谢主——都停止了。

时值六月。

国王与王后都待在宫中。

虽然时间尚早，四处已响起了有节奏的运动声、马驹奔跑的嗒嗒声、板球拍的轻叩声。

洛兹板球场、爱斯科赛马场、拉内拉赫高尔夫俱乐部等所有娱乐场都淹没在柔软的类似网状的蓝灰色晨雾里。

当白天一分一秒过去，雾渐消散，欢快的马驹会跑到娱乐场的草地与球场上，前蹄刚着地旋即一跃而起。

还有转着圈的小伙子，笑容满面、身着透明纱衫的姑娘，即便此时，彻夜跳舞以后，还带上他们荒诞的毛茸茸的狗出来溜溜。

而且即使现在，这样的时刻，那些谨慎的韶华已逝的遗孀们也上了汽车，急急忙忙投身于神秘的差使。

店主们正手忙脚乱地在橱窗里摆放人造宝石和钻石，那美丽的古色古香的海绿色胸针镶在十八世纪样式的底座上诱使美国佬来买（但是一定要节俭，不要轻易给伊丽莎白买饰品）。

她自己也喜爱这些珠宝，似乎怀着一种荒诞又虔诚的情感，因为她就是其中的一份子，她的先辈曾经是乔治时代的廷臣，她这个晚上也要闪亮辉煌地登场；参加她的聚会。

可是一走进公园，那静谧是多么奇怪啊！那薄雾，那嗡嗡声，那悠然游走的欢快的鸭子，那步态摇摆的长有袋囊的鸟，那个迎面而来的人该是谁呢他身后是政府大楼，完全没错，携带一个盖着皇室纹章的公文派送箱，正是休·惠特布雷德；她的故交休——可敬的休！
"Good morning to you, Clarissa!" said Hugh, rather extravagantly, for they had known each other as children. "Where are you off to"
“早安，克拉丽莎！”休煞有介事地问候道，因为他俩儿时便相识了。

“你要动身去哪里”"I love walking in London," said Mrs. Dalloway. "Really it's better than walking in the country."
“我喜欢在伦敦步行。

”达洛维夫人回答，“的确这胜过在乡村小路上溜达哩。

”
They had just come up—unfortunately—to see doctors. Other people came to see pictures; go to the opera; take their daughters out; the Whitbreads came "to see doctors." Times without number Clarissa had visited Evelyn Whitbread in a nursing home. Was Evelyn ill again Evelyn was a good deal out of sorts, said Hugh, intimating by a kind of pout or swell of his very well-covered, manly, extremely handsome, perfectly upholstered body (he was almost too well dressed always, but presumably had to be, with his little job at Court) that his wife had some internal ailment, nothing serious, which, as an old friend, Clarissa Dalloway would quite understand without requiring him to specify. Ah yes, she did of course; what a nuisance; and felt very sisterly and oddly conscious at the same time of her hat. Not the right hat for the early morning, was that it For Hugh always made her feel, as he bustled on, raising his hat rather extravagantly and assuring her that she might be a girl of eighteen, and of course he was coming to her party tonight, Evelyn absolutely insisted, only a little late he might be after the party at the Palace to which he had to take one of Jim's boys,—she always felt a little skimpy beside Hugh; schoolgirlish; but attached to him, partly from having known him always, but she did think him a good sort in his own way, though Richard was nearly driven mad by him, and as for Peter Walsh, he had never to this day forgiven her for liking him.
他们刚来伦敦——真遗憾——却是来寻医的。

其他人到伦敦是想看电影，赏歌剧，把女儿带来开眼界，惠特布雷德一家却是来“看大夫”。

克拉丽莎曾多次去护理院探望伊夫琳·惠特布雷德。

难道伊夫琳又生病了伊夫琳身体很不舒服，休说道，一边撅着嘴，挺着穿着考究、透着男子汉气概、英俊非凡、包装极好的身躯（他向来总是过分讲究穿着，不过想想也只能这样，他在宫里有份小差使），暗示他的夫人只得了点内科病，没什么大不了，作为故交，克拉丽莎·达洛维十分了解这些，而无需他具体阐明。

噢不错，她确实了解，这病真烦人。

一股姐妹般的情愫油然而生，于此同时她又古灵精怪地注意到自己的帽子。

大清早的戴这个帽子不合适，是吧因为休忙着往前走时，颇为一本正经地向上抬了抬他的帽子，让她总觉得自己像是年方十八的姑娘，另外她今晚的聚会他也肯定会来，这是伊夫琳强烈要求的，只是可能会晚些到，他必须先带上吉姆的一个儿子参加宫廷宴会。

和休在一起她总觉得自己有点不像样子，像个中学生。

但是又依恋他，一是由于他俩早就相识，而且她的确认为休自有他好的地方，尽管理查德差点被他逼疯了，至于彼得·沃尔什，至今也没有宽恕她对休的爱。

She could remember scene after scene at Bourton—Peter furious; Hugh not, of course, his match in any way, but still not a positive imbecile as Peter made out; not a mere barber's block. When his old mother wanted him to give up shooting or to take her to Bath he did it, without a word; he was really unselfish, and as for saying, as Peter did, that he had no heart, no brain, nothing but the manners and breeding of an English gentleman, that was only her dear Peter at his worst; and he could be intolerable; he could be impossible; but adorable to walk with on a morning like this.
伯顿的情景一幕接一幕浮现在她脑际——彼得暴跳如雷；当然，休无论如何也无法和他比，但也决非彼得声称的一个十足的傻瓜，不纯粹是理发师的木制假头。

在他年迈的母亲希望他停止打猎或是把她带到巴斯去时，他没说半个不字就那么做了，他确实一点也不自私。

至于彼得所讲的，休冷酷无情、没有头脑，有的仅仅是英国绅士的礼节与教养，这仅是她心爱的彼得心情极糟时的言语。

他可能会让人无法容忍，使人难以相处，然而如此这般早晨跟他一起走走却是非常惬意的。

(June had drawn out every leaf on the trees. The mothers of Pimlico gave suck to their young. Messages were passing from the Fleet to the Admiralty. Arlington Street and Piccadilly seemed to chafe the very air in the Park and lift its leaves hotly, brilliantly, on waves of that divine vitality which Clarissa loved. To dance, to ride, she had adored all that.)
（六月里树木枝繁叶茂。

皮姆利科的慈母们在给小孩喂奶。

时不时有讯息从舰队街传到海军部。

繁华的阿灵顿街和皮卡迪利大街仿佛使公园里热气蒸腾，绚烂的树叶翻飞在活力充沛的气浪上，克拉丽莎深爱这神圣的生命力。

跳舞啊，骑马啊，她都喜欢。

）
For they might be parted for hundreds of years, she and Peter; she never wrote a letter and his were dry sticks; but suddenly it would come over her. If he were with me now what would he say—some days, some sights bringing him back to her calmly, without the old bitterness; which perhaps was the reward of having cared for people; they came back in the middle of St. James's Park on a fine morning—indeed they did. But Peter—however beautiful the day might be, and the trees and the grass, and the little girl in pink— Peter never saw a thing of all that. He would put on his spectacles, if she told him to; he would look. It was the state of the world that interested him; Wagner, Pope's poetry, people's characters eternally, and the defects of her own soul. How he scolded her! How they argued! She would marry a Prime Minister and stand at the top of a staircase; the perfect hostess he called her (she had cried over it in her bedroom), she had the makings of the perfect hostess, he said.
他俩素未谋面也许好几百年了，彼得与她；她从未给他写信，而他的来信也写得干瘪枯燥；
但是她冷不防会想起，若此时他在她身边他会说些什么呢——某些日子、某些情景会让她静静地想起他，昔日的怨尤不复存在，这大概是对关心照顾别人的回报；她又想起一个明媚的早晨，他俩回到圣詹姆斯公园中央的情景——事实也如此。

然而彼得——不论日子多么美好，树丛和草地、以及身穿粉红衣衫的小姑娘多么赏心悦目——彼得全都视若无睹。

他会戴上眼镜的，要是她吩咐的话；他会瞅瞅。

他关注的是世界形势，瓦格纳的音乐，蒲伯的诗，人类永恒的特性，以及她自身灵魂的缺陷。

他是那样地斥责她！他俩是那样地争辩！他说她将嫁给首相并伫立在楼梯顶层；他称呼她为完美女主人（她曾在卧室为此哭泣），他说她天生就具有成为完美女主人的潜质。

So she would still find herself arguing in St. James's Park, still making out that she had been right—and she had too—not to marry him. For in marriage a little licence, a little independence there must be between people living together day in day out in the same house; which Richard gave her, and she him. (Where was he this morning for instance Some committee, she never asked what.) But with Peter everything had to be shared; everything gone into. And it was intolerable, and when it came to that scene in the little garden by thefountain, she had to break with him or they would have been destroyed, both of them ruined, she was convinced; though she had borne about with her for years like an arrow sticking in her heart the grief, the anguish; and then the horror of the moment when some one told her at a concert that he had married a woman met on the boat going to India! Never should she forget all that! Cold, heartless, a prude, he called her. Never could she understand how he cared. But those Indian women did presumably—silly, pretty, flimsy nincompoops. And she wasted her pity. For he was quite happy, he assured her—perfectly happy, though he had never done a thing that they talked of; his whole life had been a failure. It made her angry still.
于是她觉得自己还是在圣詹姆斯公园争辩着，还是声称她一直都没错——她也的确没错——没有嫁给他。

因为在婚姻这张小小的证书里，同一个屋子天天相伴的夫妇一定要有小小的自主权；理查德给了她这种权利，她也满足了他。

（例如他今儿早上去哪了去某个委员会吧，她从来不问。

）可彼得却要分享她的每件事情，而且都要知根知底。

真让人无法容忍，而出现了那小巧的花园喷泉旁的场面后，她不得不与他断绝关系，不然他俩都要毁灭，双方都会崩溃，她毫不怀疑；尽管如此，她蒙受了多年如箭穿心的悲戚与苦痛；继而是那恐怖的一刻，有人在一次音乐会上向她透露，彼得已同在去往印度船上结识的一个女人结婚了！这一切她永不会忘却！冷漠、没心没肺、假正经，他如此责怪她。

她永远不能明白他百般的关怀。

不过那些印度女人可能明白——那傻傻的、俊俏的、娇弱的蠢货们。

而她是在浪费自己的同情。

因为他要她相信他过得很幸福——非常幸福，即使没做过一件他俩讨论过的事；他整个人生是个失败。

这令她更加愤怒。