狄更斯雙語小說:《董貝父子》第23章Part 2

The spell upon it was more wasting than the spell that used to set enchanted houses sleeping once upon a time, but left their waking freshness unimpaired. The passive desolation of disuse was everywhere silently manifest about it. Within doors, curtains, drooping heavily, lost their old folds and shapes, and hung like cumbrous palls. Hecatombs of furniture, still piled and covered up, shrunk like imprisoned and forgotten men, and changed insensibly. Mirrors were dim as with the breath of years. Patterns of carpets faded and became perplexed and faint, like the memory of those years' trifling incidents. Boards, starting at unwonted footsteps, creaked and shook.

+Keys rusted in the locks of doors. Damp started on the walls, and as the stains came out, the pictures seemed to go in and secrete themselves. Mildew and mould began to lurk in closets. Fungus trees grew in corners of the cellars. Dust accumulated, nobody knew whence nor how; spiders, moths, and grubs were heard of every day. An exploratory blackbeetle now and then was found immovable upon the stairs, or in an upper room, as wondering how he got there. Rats began to squeak and scuffle in the night time, through dark galleries they mined behind the panelling.

The dreary magnificence of the state rooms, seen imperfectly by the doubtful light admitted through closed shutters, would have answered well enough for an enchanted abode. Such as the tarnished paws of gilded lions, stealthily put out from beneath their wrappers; the marble lineaments of busts on pedestals, fearfully revealing themselves through veils; the clocks that never told the time, or, if wound up by any chance, told it wrong, and struck unearthly numbers, which are not upon the dial; the accidental tinklings among the pendant lustres, more startling than alarm-bells; the softened sounds and laggard air that made their way among these objects, and a phantom crowd of others, shrouded and hooded, and made spectral of shape.

But, besides, there was the great staircase, where the lord of the place so rarely set his foot, and by which his little child had gone up to Heaven. There were other staircases and passages where no one went for weeks together; there were two closed rooms associated with dead members of the family, and with whispered recollections of them; and to all the house but Florence, there was a gentle figure moving through the solitude and gloom, that gave to every lifeless thing a touch of present human interest and wonder.

對董貝先生公館所施加的魔力要比那種使房屋沉睡一段時間、但醒來時仍清新如初、絲毫無損的魔力具有更大的破壞性。荒廢的淒涼景象處處都在默默無聲地證明這一點。房間裏面，窗簾垂頭喪氣，萎靡不振，失去了先前的摺痕與形狀，像笨重的柩衣一般懸掛着；大批不用的傢俱像在大祭時被屠殺的大量牲口一樣，依舊堆積着和被覆蓋着，像被囚禁和遺忘的人們一樣蜷縮着，不知不覺地改變着形貌。鏡子好像隨着歲月的呼吸，變得暗淡無光。地毯上的圖案褪了色，看去模糊不清，像對往昔歲月中零星瑣事的回憶一樣。木板對不習慣的腳步感到吃驚，吱嘎吱嘎地響着並顫抖着。

鑰匙在門鎖中生了鏽。牆壁開始潮溼。圖畫在污土的覆蓋下似乎退縮下去，隱匿起來。黴菌開始潛藏在壁櫥中。真菌從地窖的角落中生長出來。灰塵積聚着，誰也不知道是從哪裏和怎樣積聚起來的。蜘蛛、蛀蟲和蛆蠐螬的聲音每天都可以聽到。喜愛探險獵奇的蟑螂不時可以在樓梯上或樓上的房間中看到，他一動不動，彷彿在納罕，他怎麼跑到那裏去的。耗子到了夜間就穿過它們在牆上嵌板後面鑿通的黑洞洞的通道，吱吱響叫並相互扭打着。

從關上的百葉窗中透過來的未必是真正的光線中，可以模糊看得出大房間中冷冷清清而又莊嚴豪華的景象；它也許正好充分說明這是一座被施過魔力的住宅。例如：鍍金的獅子把失去光澤的腳爪偷偷地從罩套下面伸出；樹立在底座上的大理石半身像的輪廓，透過面紗可怕地顯露出來；時鐘從不報時，或者如果偶爾擰上發條的話，就報錯時間，敲打着人世間不存在、在針盤上沒有顯示出來的時間；懸掛着的分枝燈架偶爾相撞時發出的叮噹響聲比警鐘更使人震驚；減弱了的聲音和遲緩的氣流在這些物體中間穿行；許多其他物品被壽衣和罩套覆蓋着，就像虛幻的鬼怪一樣，呈現出非現實的形狀。

可是除此之外，還有那個大樓梯，這座房屋的主人很少攀登到上面，而他的小兒子則沿着它上升到天國。還有其他的樓梯和走廊，是好幾個星期誰也不去的；有兩個鎖上的房間與這個家庭死去的成員聯繫着，人們見到它們有時會竊竊私語，回憶起他們。除了弗洛倫斯以外，公館中所有的人還看到一個溫柔的人兒在穿過寂寞與幽暗的景物走動着；她向每一件沒有生命的東西帶去了活着的人們的關心與驚訝。