旅行袋

I stuffed a shirt or two into my old carpet-bag, tucked it under my arm, and started for Cape Horn and the Pacific.

我把一兩件襯衫塞進那只舊毛氈旅行袋，往腋下一夾，便動身朝合恩角與太平洋去了。

Quitting the good city of old Manhatto, I duly arrived in New Bedford.

辭別了古老的曼哈頓這座好城，我如期抵達新貝德福。

It was a Saturday night in December.

那是十二月的一個週六夜晚。

Much was I disappointed upon learning that the little packet for Nantucket had already sailed, and that no way of reaching that place would offer, till the following Monday.

得知開往南塔克特的小班船已經啟航、而且要到下週一才有別的法子到那兒去，我大失所望。

As most young candidates for the pains and penalties of whaling stop at this same New Bedford, thence to embark on their voyage, it may as well be related that I, for one, had no idea of so doing.

既然大多數準備去吃捕鯨那份苦、受那份罪的年輕人，都在這同一個新貝德福歇腳、由此啟程，那不妨先交代一句：我本人壓根沒打算這麼做。

For my mind was made up to sail in no other than a Nantucket craft, because there was a fine, boisterous something about everything connected with that famous old island, which amazingly pleased me.

因為我已打定主意，非搭南塔克特的船不可——但凡與那座著名古島沾上邊的一切，都有一股痛快、喧騰的勁兒，叫我說不出地中意。

Besides though New Bedford has of late been gradually monopolising the business of whaling, and though in this matter poor old Nantucket is now much behind her, yet Nantucket was her great original—the Tyre of this Carthage;—the place where the first dead American whale was stranded.

再說，雖然新貝德福近來漸漸壟斷了捕鯨生意，雖然在這一行裡可憐的老南塔克特如今已遠遠落後，但南塔克特才是它偉大的原型——這座迦太基的母城提爾；——是第一頭死去的美洲鯨擱淺的地方。

Where else but from Nantucket did those aboriginal whalemen, the Red-Men, first sally out in canoes to give chase to the Leviathan?

若不是從南塔克特，那些原住民捕鯨人——紅種人——還能從哪裡頭一回划著獨木舟衝出去追逐利維坦？

And where but from Nantucket, too, did that first adventurous little sloop put forth, partly laden with imported cobblestones—so goes the story—to throw at the whales, in order to discover when they were nigh enough to risk a harpoon from the bowsprit?

又若不是從南塔克特，那第一艘冒險的小單桅帆船還能從哪裡出航——據說船上還載了些進口的鵝卵石，好朝鯨扔過去，藉以判斷牠們是否已近得足以從船首斜桅上冒險投出一支魚叉？

Now having a night, a day, and still another night following before me in New Bedford, ere I could embark for my destined port, it became a matter of concernment where I was to eat and sleep meanwhile.

眼下，在我能啟程前往目的港之前，我在新貝德福還得熬過一夜、一天、再一夜，於是這期間在哪兒吃、在哪兒睡，就成了要緊事。

It was a very dubious-looking, nay, a very dark and dismal night, bitingly cold and cheerless.

那是個看來很靠不住——不，是個十分漆黑陰沉的夜晚，冷得刺骨、了無生氣。

I knew no one in the place.

這地方我一個人都不認識。

With anxious grapnels I had sounded my pocket, and only brought up a few pieces of silver,—

我心急地拿錨爪去探了探口袋的深淺，卻只撈起幾枚銀幣——

So, wherever you go, Ishmael, said I to myself, as I stood in the middle of a dreary street shouldering my bag, and comparing the gloom towards the north with the darkness towards the south—wherever in your wisdom you may conclude to lodge for the night, my dear Ishmael, be sure to inquire the price, and don’t be too particular.

所以啊，以實瑪利，無論你往哪兒去——我一邊扛著袋子站在淒清的街心、比較著北面的幽暗與南面的漆黑，一邊對自己說——我親愛的以實瑪利，無論你憑你的智慧決定今夜在哪兒落腳，務必先問清楚價錢，別太挑剔。

With halting steps I paced the streets, and passed the sign of “The Crossed Harpoons”—but it looked too expensive and jolly there.

我邁著蹣跚的步子在街上踱著，經過「交叉魚叉」的招牌——可那兒看來太貴、也太熱鬧了。

Further on, from the bright red windows of the “Sword-Fish Inn,” there came such fervent rays, that it seemed to have melted the packed snow and ice from before the house, for everywhere else the congealed frost lay ten inches thick in a hard, asphaltic pavement,—rather weary for me, when I struck my foot against the flinty projections, because from hard, remorseless service the soles of my boots were in a most miserable plight.

再往前，「劍魚客棧」那一扇扇通紅的窗子透出熾烈的光，亮得彷彿把屋前堆積的冰雪都融化了——因為別處凝結的霜足足有十英寸厚，硬得像一層瀝青路面；我一腳踢上那些堅硬的凸起時著實吃力，因為長久無情的折磨已把我的靴底磨得慘不忍睹。

Too expensive and jolly, again thought I, pausing one moment to watch the broad glare in the street, and hear the sounds of the tinkling glasses within.

又是太貴、太熱鬧了，我又想，停下片刻，看那灑滿街面的大片光亮，聽屋裡杯盞叮噹作響。

But go on, Ishmael, said I at last; don’t you hear? get away from before the door; your patched boots are stopping the way.

但走吧，以實瑪利，我終於說；你沒聽見嗎？離開這門口；你那打了補丁的靴子擋了人家的路。

So on I went.

於是我繼續往前走。

I now by instinct followed the streets that took me waterward, for there, doubtless, were the cheapest, if not the cheeriest inns.

這會兒我憑著直覺，順著那些通向水邊的街道走，因為那兒的客棧縱然不是最歡快的，無疑也是最便宜的。

Such dreary streets! blocks of blackness, not houses, on either hand, and here and there a candle, like a candle moving about in a tomb.

多麼淒涼的街道！兩旁是一塊塊的漆黑，而非房屋，偶有一處燭光，像一支蠟燭在墳墓裡晃動。

At this hour of the night, of the last day of the week, that quarter of the town proved all but deserted.

在一週最後一天的這個夜深時分，那一帶幾乎杳無人跡。

But presently I came to a smoky light proceeding from a low, wide building, the door of which stood invitingly open.

但不久我來到一處冒著煙的燈光前，光從一幢低矮寬闊的建築裡透出，那門敞著，像在招呼人進去。

It had a careless look, as if it were meant for the uses of the public; so, entering, the first thing I did was to stumble over an ash-box in the porch.

它一副隨隨便便的模樣，彷彿是給大眾用的；於是我一進門，頭一件事就是被門廊裡一只灰箱絆了一跤。

Ha! thought I, ha, as the flying particles almost choked me, are these ashes from that destroyed city, Gomorrah?

哈！我心想，哈——當那些飛揚的灰塵嗆得我幾乎喘不過氣，這些灰，莫非是那座被毀的城——蛾摩拉的灰燼？

But “The Crossed Harpoons,” and “The Sword-Fish?”—this, then must needs be the sign of “The Trap.”

可既有了「交叉魚叉」和「劍魚」？——那這一家，想必就該掛「陷阱」的招牌了。

However, I picked myself up and hearing a loud voice within, pushed on and opened a second, interior door.

總之我爬起身來，聽見裡頭一個洪亮的嗓門，便往前推開了第二道、通向內室的門。

It seemed the great Black Parliament sitting in Tophet.

那景象，彷彿是「黑色大議會」正在陀斐特開會。

A hundred black faces turned round in their rows to peer; and beyond, a black Angel of Doom was beating a book in a pulpit.

一百張黑臉在排排座位上轉過頭來打量；再過去，一位黑色的末日天使正在講壇上拍打著一本書。

It was a negro church; and the preacher’s text was about the blackness of darkness, and the weeping and wailing and teeth-gnashing there.

那是一間黑人教堂；傳道人講的經文，是關於那「黑暗中的幽暗」，以及那裡的哀哭、哀號與咬牙切齒。

Ha, Ishmael, muttered I, backing out, Wretched entertainment at the sign of ‘The Trap!’

哈，以實瑪利，我一邊退出來一邊咕噥，「陷阱」這招牌底下的餘興，可真夠淒慘的！

Moving on, I at last came to a dim sort of light not far from the docks, and heard a forlorn creaking in the air; and looking up, saw a swinging sign over the door with a white painting upon it, faintly representing a tall straight jet of misty spray, and these words underneath—“The Spouter Inn:—Peter Coffin.”

繼續往前，我終於來到離碼頭不遠處一團昏暗的燈光前，聽見半空中一陣淒涼的吱嘎聲；抬頭一看，門上有塊晃盪的招牌，上面有幅白色的畫，依稀畫著一道高高直噴的霧狀水柱，底下寫著幾個字——「噴水客棧：彼得・柯芬」。

Coffin?—Spouter?—Rather ominous in that particular connexion, thought I.

柯芬（棺材）？——噴水的？——這兩個湊在一塊兒，倒頗有點不祥，我心想。

But it is a common name in Nantucket, they say, and I suppose this Peter here is an emigrant from there.

但聽說柯芬在南塔克特是個常見的姓，我猜這位彼得大概是從那兒遷來的。

As the light looked so dim, and the place, for the time, looked quiet enough, and the dilapidated little wooden house itself looked as if it might have been carted here from the ruins of some burnt district, and as the swinging sign had a poverty-stricken sort of creak to it, I thought that here was the very spot for cheap lodgings, and the best of pea coffee.

既然燈光這麼昏暗，這地方一時看來也夠安靜，那破敗的小木屋本身看上去就像是從某個火災廢墟裡用車拉來的，那晃盪的招牌又吱嘎得一副窮酸相，我便想：這兒正是廉價住宿、外加最棒的豌豆咖啡的好去處。

It was a queer sort of place—a gable-ended old house, one side palsied as it were, and leaning over sadly.

那是個古怪的地方——一幢山牆對著街的老屋，一側彷彿中了風，悲哀地往一邊傾斜。

It stood on a sharp bleak corner, where that tempestuous wind Euroclydon kept up a worse howling than ever it did about poor Paul’s tossed craft.

它立在一個尖削荒涼的街角，那狂暴的尤羅克利冬之風在這兒咆哮得，比當年颳得可憐的保羅那艘顛簸的船時還要兇。

Euroclydon, nevertheless, is a mighty pleasant zephyr to any one in-doors, with his feet on the hob quietly toasting for bed.

然而，對任何待在屋裡、把腳擱在爐架上靜靜烘暖、準備上床的人來說，尤羅克利冬卻是一陣再宜人不過的和風。

“In judging of that tempestuous wind called Euroclydon,” says an old writer—of whose works I possess the only copy extant—“it maketh a marvellous difference, whether thou lookest out at it from a glass window where the frost is all on the outside, or whether thou observest it from that sashless window, where the frost is on both sides, and of which the wight Death is the only glazier.”

「論到那名叫尤羅克利冬的狂風，」一位古作家如此說——他的著作如今只剩我手上這唯一一本——「有天壤之別：看你是隔著一扇玻璃窗往外瞧它，霜全結在窗外；還是你從那扇沒框沒玻璃的窗口望它，霜結在兩面，而那扇窗唯一的裝玻璃匠，便是『死亡』這號人物。」

True enough, thought I, as this passage occurred to my mind—old black-letter, thou reasonest well.

說得真對，我心想，這段話浮上心頭時——老古董黑體字啊，你這道理講得好。

Yes, these eyes are windows, and this body of mine is the house.

是啊，這雙眼就是窗，我這身子就是屋。

What a pity they didn’t stop up the chinks and the crannies though, and thrust in a little lint here and there.

只可惜他們沒把那些縫隙裂口堵上，這兒那兒塞點棉絮。

But it’s too late to make any improvements now.

但如今要修補也太遲了。

The universe is finished; the copestone is on, and the chips were carted off a million years ago.

這宇宙已大功告成；壓頂石都安上了，碎石屑早在一百萬年前就運走了。

Poor Lazarus there, chattering his teeth against the curbstone for his pillow, and shaking off his tatters with his shiverings, he might plug up both ears with rags, and put a corn-cob into his mouth, and yet that would not keep out the tempestuous Euroclydon.

那邊那可憐的拉撒路，拿路緣石當枕頭、凍得牙齒打顫，渾身發抖、抖落身上的破布，他就算拿破布把兩隻耳朵塞住、嘴裡再咬根玉米芯，也擋不住那狂暴的尤羅克利冬。

Euroclydon! says old Dives, in his red silken wrapper—(he had a redder one afterwards) pooh, pooh! What a fine frosty night; how Orion glitters; what northern lights!

尤羅克利冬！老財主迪韋斯裹著他那紅綢睡袍說——（後來他還有件更紅的）呸，呸！多好的一個霜夜；獵戶座多閃亮；多美的北極光！

Let them talk of their oriental summer climes of everlasting conservatories; give me the privilege of making my own summer with my own coals.

讓他們去誇他們那東方的、四季如夏、暖房永不歇的氣候吧；我只要能用自己的煤、生出自己的夏天，這份特權就夠了。

But what thinks Lazarus?

可拉撒路又怎麼想？

Can he warm his blue hands by holding them up to the grand northern lights?

他能把凍青的雙手舉向那壯麗的北極光取暖嗎？

Would not Lazarus rather be in Sumatra than here?

拉撒路難道不寧可待在蘇門答臘，也不願待在這裡？

Would he not far rather lay him down lengthwise along the line of the equator; yea, ye gods! go down to the fiery pit itself, in order to keep out this frost?

他難道不更願意沿著赤道線直挺挺躺下；是啊，眾神在上！甚至下到那烈火的深坑裡去，只為擋住這寒霜？

Now, that Lazarus should lie stranded there on the curbstone before the door of Dives, this is more wonderful than that an iceberg should be moored to one of the Moluccas.

眼下，拉撒路竟擱淺似地躺在迪韋斯門前的路緣石上，這比一座冰山被繫泊在某個摩鹿加群島還要奇。

Yet Dives himself, he too lives like a Czar in an ice palace made of frozen sighs, and being a president of a temperance society, he only drinks the tepid tears of orphans.

然而迪韋斯本人，也像個沙皇似地住在一座用凍結的嘆息砌成的冰宮裡，而且身為某個禁酒協會的會長，他只喝孤兒們微溫的眼淚。

But no more of this blubbering now, we are going a-whaling, and there is plenty of that yet to come.

不過這會兒別再哭哭啼啼了（blubbering 一語雙關，blubber 又是「鯨脂」），我們要去捕鯨，這種事後頭多得是。

Let us scrape the ice from our frosted feet, and see what sort of a place this “Spouter” may be.

讓我們把結了霜的腳上的冰刮掉，看看這「噴水客棧」究竟是個什麼樣的地方。