燈

Had you descended from the Pequod’s try-works to the Pequod’s forecastle, where the off duty watch were sleeping, for one single moment you would have almost thought you were standing in some illuminated shrine of canonized kings and counsellors. There they lay in their triangular oaken vaults, each mariner a chiselled muteness; a score of lamps flashing upon his hooded eyes.

若你從裴廓德號的煉油間走下、來到裴廓德號的船艏艙（那輪休的值班水手睡覺的地方），有那麼一瞬間，你幾乎會以為：自己正站在某座封聖（canonized）的君王與謀臣（counsellors）的、燈火通明的聖龕（shrine）裡。他們躺在那裡、躺在三角形的橡木墓穴（vaults）般的鋪位中；每一個水手，都是一尊鑿刻的靜默（a chiselled muteness）；幾十盞燈，在他那覆蓋著的（hooded）眼睛上閃爍。

In merchantmen, oil for the sailor is more scarce than the milk of queens. To dress in the dark, and eat in the dark, and stumble in darkness to his pallet, this is his usual lot. But the whaleman, as he seeks the food of light, so he lives in light. He makes his berth an Aladdin’s lamp, and lays him down in it; so that in the pitchiest night the ship’s black hull still houses an illumination.

在商船（merchantmen）上，給水手用的油，比王后的奶還要稀罕（scarce）。摸黑穿衣、摸黑吃飯、在黑暗中跌跌撞撞地走向他的草墊（pallet）——這就是商船水手通常的命運。但捕鯨人卻不同——他既追尋光的食糧，便也活在光中。他把自己的鋪位（berth）變成一盞阿拉丁神燈、然後躺進裡頭；於是，在最漆黑的（pitchiest）夜裡，船那黑色的船殼（hull）裡，仍藏著一片光明。

See with what entire freedom the whaleman takes his handful of lamps—often but old bottles and vials, though—to the copper cooler at the try-works, and replenishes them there, as mugs of ale at a vat. He burns, too, the purest of oil, in its unmanufactured, and, therefore, unvitiated state... It is sweet as early grass butter in April. He goes and hunts for his oil, so as to be sure of its freshness and genuineness, even as the traveller on the prairie hunts up his own supper of game.

看捕鯨人是何等自由自在地、拿起他那一把燈——雖然常常不過是些舊瓶舊罐（vials）——走到煉油間的銅冷卻器邊、在那裡把它們斟滿（replenishes），就像在大酒桶（vat）邊斟一杯杯麥酒。他所燒的，還是最純的油——處於它未經加工、因而未受玷污（unvitiated）的狀態；一種岸上那些日、月、星的照明裝置（contrivances）所不知道的液體。它甜得像四月初生青草所產的鮮奶油。他親自去獵取他的油、以確保它的新鮮與純正（genuineness）——正如草原（prairie）上的旅人、親自去獵取他自己的晚餐野味一樣。