“你觉得怎么样呢，杰克斯先生？”她接着问“请你相信我，”杰克斯说，“你算不上歌剧里挂头牌的角色。美国各大城市歌剧明星的演唱我都听到过，我可以告诉你，你的嗓子吃不开。不然的话，你早就比垮了那些歌剧大演员，把她们打发到肥皂厂去干活了——我指的是相貌，因为那些尖嗓子一般都长得像是赶集的农村姑娘。不过你唱的实在不行。你的会厌不灵活——没有章法。”
With a merry laugh at Jacks criticism， Ileen looked inquiringly at me.
艾琳听了杰克斯的批评，快活得笑出了声，随即带着询问的神情瞅瞅我。
I admit that I falteredfalter vt.支吾地说， 结巴地讲出 vi.支吾， 蹒跚踉跄， 摇摆，(声音)颤抖 n.颤抖， 支吾， 踌躇 a little. Was there not such a thing as being too frank？ Perhaps I even hedgedhedge n.树篱， 障碍物 v.用树篱围住， 避免作正面答复a little in my verdict， but I stayed with the critics.
我承认当时我犹豫了一下。坦率不是也有过火的时候吗？我下的断语也许有点儿躲躲闪闪。不过仍旧以批评为主。
“I am not skilled in scientific music， Miss Ileen，” I said， “but， frankly， I cannot praise very highly the singingvoice that Nature has given you. It has long been a favorite comparison that a great singer sings like a bird. Well， there are birds and birds. I would say that your voice reminds me of the thrushs—throatythroaty adj.喉音的， 喉部发出声音的， 嘶哑的 and not strong， nor of much compass or variety—but still—er—sweet—in—er—its—way， and—er—”
“艾琳小姐，我对科学性的音乐并不在行，”我说，“但是说老实话，我不能高度赞扬老天赐给你的歌喉。人们老爱用鸟同出色的歌唱家比较。可是鸟跟鸟不一样。我要说你的嗓子使我想起鹤鸟——带喉音而不响亮，音域不广，变化不大——不过——呃——自有它的——呃——韵味——呃——”
“Thank you， Mr. Harris.” interrupted Miss Hinkle， “I knew I could depend Upon your frankness and honesty.”
“谢谢你啦，哈里斯先生。”欣克尔小姐打断了我的话，“我知道我可以信赖你的坦率和诚实。”
And then C. Vincent Vesey drew back one sleeve from his snowy cuffcuff n.袖口， 裤子翻边， 护腕， 手铐 vt.给……上袖口(或翻边)， 用手铐铐， and the water came down at Lodore.
这时候，西·文森特·维齐提一提上衣袖管，露出了雪白的衬衣袖口，洛多尔瀑布开始奔腾而下。
My memory cannot do justice to his masterly tribute to that priceless， Godgiven treasure—Miss Hinkles voice. He raved over it in terms that， if they had been addressed to the morning stars when they sang together， would have made that stellar choirchoir n.唱诗班， 唱诗班的席位 explode in a meteoric shower of flaming selfsatisfaction.
我的记忆力不好，没法重复他如何赞扬上帝赐予的无价之宝——欣克尔小姐的嗓子。他那些狂热的语言如果说给一起歌唱的晨星听，准会使星星的合唱队自我爆炸，碎成一片发出自满火焰的流星阵雨。
He marshalledmarshal n.元帅， 典礼官， 执行官， 司仪官 vt.整顿，配置， 汇集 vi.排列， 集合 on his white fingertips the grand opera stars of all the continents， from Jenny Lind to Emma Abbott， only to depreciate their endowments. He spoke of larynxes， of chest notes， of phrasing， arpeggios， and other strange paraphernalia of the throaty art. He admitted， as though driven to a corner， that Jenny Lind had a note or two in the high register that Miss Hinkle had not yet acquired—but—that was a mere matter of practice and training.
他用白皙的手指列举了各大洲的歌剧明星，从珍妮·林德说到埃玛·艾博特，无非是贬低她们的才能。他谈到喉音、胸腔共鸣、短句、琶音以及歌唱艺术的其他怪名词。他仿佛爱莫能助地承认珍妮·林德在高音域里有几个音是欣克尔小姐未能达到的——不过——那只是练习和训练的问题。
And， as a perorationperoration n.（演讲的）结束语， 演讲高谈阔论， he predicted—solemnly predicted—a career in vocal art for the “coming star of the Southwest—and one of which grand old Texas may well be proud，” hitherto unsurpassedunsurpassed adj.未被凌驾的， 非常卓越的 in the annals of musical history.
结尾的时候，他预言——郑重地预言——“西南部将要出现的一颗新星——一颗足以使老大的得克萨斯州自豪的新星”——在声乐艺术上前途灿烂辉煌，在音乐史上无与伦比。
When we left at ten， Ileen gave each of us her usual warm， cordial handshake， entrancing smile， and invitation to call again. I could not see that one was favored above or below another—but three of us knew—we knew.
我们十点钟告辞的时候，艾琳同往常一样，带着她那迷人的笑容和我们每个人热情诚恳地握了手，请我们再去玩。我看不出有什么厚此薄彼的迹象——但是我们中间有三个人知道——我们知道。
We knew that frankness and honesty had won， and that the rivals now numbered three instead of four.
我们知道坦率和诚实赢得了胜利，情敌的数目已经从四个减到三个了。
Down at the station Jacks brought out a pint bottle of the proper stuff， and we celebrated the downfall of a blatantblatant adj.喧嚣的， 俗丽的， 吵闹的， 炫耀的 interloper.
在车站上，杰克斯拿出一个装着一品脱好东西的瓶子，我们庆祝那个嚣张的入侵者的没落。
Four days went by without anything happening worthy of recount.
四天乎乎而过，没什么值得一提的事情。
On the fifth， Jacks and I， entering the brush arbor for our supper， saw the Mexican youth， instead of a divinitydivinity n.神， 神学， 神性， 上帝 in a spotless waist and a navyblue skirt， taking in the dollars through the barbedwire wicket.
第五天，杰克斯和我走进凉棚去吃晚饭，发现在铁丝网后面收钱的是那个墨西哥小伙子，那个穿洁白衬衫、藏青色裙子的天仙不见了。
We rushed into the kitchen， meeting Pa Hinkle coming out with two cups of hot coffee in his hands.
我们冲进厨房，正好碰到欣克尔老爹两手端着两杯热咖啡出来。
“Wheres Ileen？” we asked， in recitativerecitative adj.背诵的， 吟诵的， 叙述的.
“艾琳在哪儿？”我们带着歌剧宣叙调的口气问道。
Pa Hinkle was a kindly man. “Well， gents，” said he， “it was a sudden notion she took， but Ive got the money， and I let her have her way. Shes gone to a corn—a conservatory in Boston for four years for to have her voice cultivated. Now， excuse me to pass， gents， for this coffees hot， and my thumbs is tender.”
欣克尔老爹是个厚道人。“哎，两位先生，”他说，“她突然心血来潮，我也没有办法，不过我手头有这笔钱，我就随她去了。她到波士顿一个唱歌——不，一个音乐学院去学四年，培养她的嗓子。唔，两位先生，让我过去吧，咖啡烫得很，我的大拇指受不了啦。”
That night there were four instead of three of us sitting on the station platform and swinging our feet. C. Vincent Vesey was one of us. We discussed things while dogs barked at the moon that rose， as big as a fivecent piece or a flour barrel， over the chaparral.
那晚，坐在火车站月台上晃荡着腿的有四个人，而不是三个。西·文森特·维齐成了我们中间的一个。我们在探讨问题．狗冲着升上树梢的月亮吠叫，月亮有五分硬币那么大，或者有面粉桶那么大。
And what we discussed was whether it is better to lie to a woman or to tell her the truth.
我们探讨的问题是，对一个女人到底是说谎好，还是说实话好。
And as all of us were young then， we did not come to a decision.
当时我们几个都年轻。所以没有得出结论。
