章节正文
He looked interrogative.
"Yes. I know you are surprised. For you do not
understand what you are. You do not know the things
that are happening."
"Well? "
"You do not understand."
"Not clearly, perhaps. But--tell me."
She turned to him with sudden resolution." It is
so hard to explain. I have meant to, I have wanted to.
And now--I cannot. I am not ready with words.
But about you--there is something. It is Wonder.
Your sleep--your awakening. These things are
miracles. To me at least--and to all the common
people. You who lived and suffered and died, you
who were a common citizen, wake again, live again, to
find yourself Master almost of the earth."
"Master of the earth," he said. "So they tell me.
But try and imagine how little I know of it."
"Cities--Trusts--the Labour Company--"
"Principalities, powers, dominions--the power and
the glory. Yes, I have heard them shout. I know.
I am Master. King, if you wish. With Ostrog, the
Boss--"
He paused.
She turned upon him and surveyed his face with a
curious scrutiny. "Well?"
He smiled. "To take the responsibility."
"That is what we have begun to fear." For a moment
she said no more. "No," she said slowly. "You will
take the responsibility. You will take the
responsibility. The people look to you."
She spoke softly." Listen! For at least half the
years of your sleep--in every generation--multitudes
of people, in every generation greater multitudes
of people, have prayed that you might awake--
prayed."
Graham moved to speak and did not.
She hesitated, and a faint colour crept back to her
cheek. "Do you know that you have been to myriads
--King Arthur, Barbarossa--the King who would
come in his own good time and put the world right for
them?"
"I suppose the imagination of the people--"
"Have you not heard our proverb, 'When the
Sleeper wakes?' While you lay insensible and motionless
there--thousands came. Thousands. Every
first of the month you lay in state with a white robe
upon you and the people filed by you. When I was a
little girl I saw you like that, with your face white and
calm."
She turned her face from him and looked steadfastly
at the painted wall before her. Her voice fell. "When
I was a little girl I used to look at your face. . . .it
seemed to me fixed and waiting, like the patience of
God."
"That is what we thought of you," she said. "That
is how you seemed to us."
She turned shining eyes to him, her voice was clear
and strong." In the city, in the earth, a myriad
myriad men and women are waiting to see what you
will do, full of strange incredible expectations."
"Yes? "
"Ostrog--no one--can take that responsibility."
Graham looked at her in surprise, at her face lit
with emotion. She seemed at first to have spoken with
an effort, and to have fired herself by speaking.
"Do you think," she said, "that you who have lived
that little life so far away in the past, you who have
fallen into and risen out of this miracle of sleep -- do
you think that the wonder and reverence and hope of
half the world has gathered about you only that you
may live another little life? . . . That you may
shift the responsibility to any other man?"
"I know how great this kingship of mine is," he
said haltingly. "I know how great it seems. But is it
real? It is incredible--dreamlike. Is it real, or is
it only a great delusion?"
"It is real," she said; "if you dare."
"After all, like all kingship, my kingship is Belief.
It is an illusion in the minds of men."
"If you dare!" she said.
"But--"
"Countless men," she said, "and while it is in their
minds--they will obey."
"But I know nothing. That is what I had in mind.
I know nothing. And these others--the Councillors,
Ostrog. They are wiser, cooler, they know so much,
every detail. And, indeed, what are these miseries of
which you speak? What am I to know? Do you
mean--"
He stopped blankly.
"I am still hardly more than a girl," she said. "But
to me the world seems full of wretchedness. The world
has altered since your day, altered very strangely. I
have prayed that I might see you and tell you these
things. The world has changed. As if a canker had
seized it--and robbed life of--everything worth
having."
She turned a flushed face upon him, moving suddenly.
"Your days were the days of freedom. Yes--
I have thought. I have been made to think, for my
life--has not been happy. Men are no longer free--
no greater, no better than the men of your time. That
is not all. This city--is a prison. Every city now is
a prison. Mammon grips the key in his hand.
Myriads, countless myriads, toil from the cradle to
the grave. Is that right? Is that to be--for ever?
Yes, far worse than in your time. All about us, beneath
us, sorrow and pain. All the shallow delight of
such life as you find about you, is separated by just a
little from a life of wretchedness beyond any telling
Yes, the poor know it--they know they suffer. These
countless multitudes who faced death for you two
nights since--! You owe your life to them."
"Yes," said Graham, slowly. "Yes. I owe my
life to them."
"You come," she said, "from the days when this
new tyranny of the cities was scarcely beginning.
It is a tyranny--a tyranny. In your days the
feudal war lords had gone, and the new lordship of
wealth had still to come. Half the men in the world
still lived out upon the free countryside. The cities
had still to devour them. I have heard the stories
out of the old books--there was nobility! Common
men led lives of love and faithfulness then--they
did a thousand things. And you--you come from
that time."
"It was not--. But never mind. How is it
now--? "
"Gain and the Pleasure Cities! Or slavery--unthanked,
unhonoured, slavery."
"Slavery!" he said.
"Slavery."
"You don't mean to say that human beings are
chattels."
"Worse. That is what I want you to know, what
I want you to see. I know you do not know. They
will keep things from you, they will take you presently
to a Pleasure City. But you have noticed men and
women and children in pale blue canvas, with thin
yellow faces and dull eyes? "
"Everywhere."
"Speaking a horribledialect, coarse and weak."
"I have heard it."
"They are the slaves--your slaves. They are the
slaves of the Labour Company you own."
"The Labour Company! In some way--that is
familiar. Ah! now I remember. I saw it when I was
wandering about the city, after the lights returned,
great fronts of buildings coloured pale blue. Do you
really mean--?"
"Yes. How can I explain it to you? Of course
the blue uniform struck you. Nearly a third of our
people wear it--more assume it now every day. This
Labour Company has grown imperceptibly."
"What is this Labour Company?" asked Graham.
"In the old times, how did you manage with staning
people?"
"There was the workhouse--which the parishes
maintained."
"Workhouse! Yes--there was something. In
our history lessons. I remember now. The Labour
Company ousted the workhouse. It grew--partly--
out of something--you, perhaps, may remember it--
an emotional religious organisation called the
Salvation Army--that became a business company. In the
first place it was almost a charity. To save people
from workhouse rigours. Now I come to think of it,
it was one of the earliest properties your Trustees
acquired. They bought the Salvation Army and reconstructed
it as this. The idea in the first place was to
give work to starving homeless people."
"Yes."
"Nowadays there are no workhouses, no refuges
and charities, nothing but that Company. Its offices
are everywhere. That blue is its colour. And any
man, woman or child who comes to be hungry and
weary and with neither home nor friend nor resort,
must go to the Company in the end--or seek some
way of death. The Euthanasy is beyond their means
--for the poor there is no easy death. And at any
hour in the day or night there is food, shelter and a
blue uniform for all comers--that is the first
condition of the Company s incorporation--and in return
for a day's shelter the Company extracts a day's work,
and then returns the visitor's proper clothing and
sends him or her out again."
"Yes?"
"Perhaps that does not seem so terrible to you. In
your days men starved in your streets. That was bad.
But they died--men. These people in blue--. The
proverb runs: 'Blue canvas once and ever.' The
Company trades in their labour, and it has taken care
to assure itself of the supply. People come to
it starving and helpless--they eat and sleep for
a night and day, they -work for a day, and at the
end of the day they go out again. If they have worked
well they have a penny or so--enough for a
theatre or a cheap dancing place, or a kinematograph
story, or a dinner or a bet. They wander about after
that is spent. Begging is prevented by the police of
"Yes. I know you are surprised. For you do not
understand what you are. You do not know the things
that are happening."
"Well? "
"You do not understand."
"Not clearly, perhaps. But--tell me."
She turned to him with sudden resolution." It is
so hard to explain. I have meant to, I have wanted to.
And now--I cannot. I am not ready with words.
But about you--there is something. It is Wonder.
Your sleep--your awakening. These things are
miracles. To me at least--and to all the common
people. You who lived and suffered and died, you
who were a common citizen, wake again, live again, to
find yourself Master almost of the earth."
"Master of the earth," he said. "So they tell me.
But try and imagine how little I know of it."
"Cities--Trusts--the Labour Company--"
"Principalities, powers, dominions--the power and
the glory. Yes, I have heard them shout. I know.
I am Master. King, if you wish. With Ostrog, the
Boss--"
He paused.
She turned upon him and surveyed his face with a
curious scrutiny. "Well?"
He smiled. "To take the responsibility."
"That is what we have begun to fear." For a moment
she said no more. "No," she said slowly. "You will
take the responsibility. You will take the
responsibility. The people look to you."
She spoke softly." Listen! For at least half the
years of your sleep--in every generation--multitudes
of people, in every generation greater multitudes
of people, have prayed that you might awake--
prayed."
Graham moved to speak and did not.
She hesitated, and a faint colour crept back to her
cheek. "Do you know that you have been to myriads
--King Arthur, Barbarossa--the King who would
come in his own good time and put the world right for
them?"
"I suppose the imagination of the people--"
"Have you not heard our proverb, 'When the
Sleeper wakes?' While you lay insensible and motionless
there--thousands came. Thousands. Every
first of the month you lay in state with a white robe
upon you and the people filed by you. When I was a
little girl I saw you like that, with your face white and
calm."
She turned her face from him and looked steadfastly
at the painted wall before her. Her voice fell. "When
I was a little girl I used to look at your face. . . .it
seemed to me fixed and waiting, like the patience of
God."
"That is what we thought of you," she said. "That
is how you seemed to us."
She turned shining eyes to him, her voice was clear
and strong." In the city, in the earth, a myriad
myriad men and women are waiting to see what you
will do, full of strange incredible expectations."
"Yes? "
"Ostrog--no one--can take that responsibility."
Graham looked at her in surprise, at her face lit
with emotion. She seemed at first to have spoken with
an effort, and to have fired herself by speaking.
"Do you think," she said, "that you who have lived
that little life so far away in the past, you who have
fallen into and risen out of this miracle of sleep -- do
you think that the wonder and reverence and hope of
half the world has gathered about you only that you
may live another little life? . . . That you may
shift the responsibility to any other man?"
"I know how great this kingship of mine is," he
said haltingly. "I know how great it seems. But is it
real? It is incredible--dreamlike. Is it real, or is
it only a great delusion?"
"It is real," she said; "if you dare."
"After all, like all kingship, my kingship is Belief.
It is an illusion in the minds of men."
"If you dare!" she said.
"But--"
"Countless men," she said, "and while it is in their
minds--they will obey."
"But I know nothing. That is what I had in mind.
I know nothing. And these others--the Councillors,
Ostrog. They are wiser, cooler, they know so much,
every detail. And, indeed, what are these miseries of
which you speak? What am I to know? Do you
mean--"
He stopped blankly.
"I am still hardly more than a girl," she said. "But
to me the world seems full of wretchedness. The world
has altered since your day, altered very strangely. I
have prayed that I might see you and tell you these
things. The world has changed. As if a canker had
seized it--and robbed life of--everything worth
having."
She turned a flushed face upon him, moving suddenly.
"Your days were the days of freedom. Yes--
I have thought. I have been made to think, for my
life--has not been happy. Men are no longer free--
no greater, no better than the men of your time. That
is not all. This city--is a prison. Every city now is
a prison. Mammon grips the key in his hand.
Myriads, countless myriads, toil from the cradle to
the grave. Is that right? Is that to be--for ever?
Yes, far worse than in your time. All about us, beneath
us, sorrow and pain. All the shallow delight of
such life as you find about you, is separated by just a
little from a life of wretchedness beyond any telling
Yes, the poor know it--they know they suffer. These
countless multitudes who faced death for you two
nights since--! You owe your life to them."
"Yes," said Graham, slowly. "Yes. I owe my
life to them."
"You come," she said, "from the days when this
new tyranny of the cities was scarcely beginning.
It is a tyranny--a tyranny. In your days the
feudal war lords had gone, and the new lordship of
wealth had still to come. Half the men in the world
still lived out upon the free countryside. The cities
had still to devour them. I have heard the stories
out of the old books--there was nobility! Common
men led lives of love and faithfulness then--they
did a thousand things. And you--you come from
that time."
"It was not--. But never mind. How is it
now--? "
"Gain and the Pleasure Cities! Or slavery--unthanked,
unhonoured, slavery."
"Slavery!" he said.
"Slavery."
"You don't mean to say that human beings are
chattels."
"Worse. That is what I want you to know, what
I want you to see. I know you do not know. They
will keep things from you, they will take you presently
to a Pleasure City. But you have noticed men and
women and children in pale blue canvas, with thin
yellow faces and dull eyes? "
"Everywhere."
"Speaking a horribledialect, coarse and weak."
"I have heard it."
"They are the slaves--your slaves. They are the
slaves of the Labour Company you own."
"The Labour Company! In some way--that is
familiar. Ah! now I remember. I saw it when I was
wandering about the city, after the lights returned,
great fronts of buildings coloured pale blue. Do you
really mean--?"
"Yes. How can I explain it to you? Of course
the blue uniform struck you. Nearly a third of our
people wear it--more assume it now every day. This
Labour Company has grown imperceptibly."
"What is this Labour Company?" asked Graham.
"In the old times, how did you manage with staning
people?"
"There was the workhouse--which the parishes
maintained."
"Workhouse! Yes--there was something. In
our history lessons. I remember now. The Labour
Company ousted the workhouse. It grew--partly--
out of something--you, perhaps, may remember it--
an emotional religious organisation called the
Salvation Army--that became a business company. In the
first place it was almost a charity. To save people
from workhouse rigours. Now I come to think of it,
it was one of the earliest properties your Trustees
acquired. They bought the Salvation Army and reconstructed
it as this. The idea in the first place was to
give work to starving homeless people."
"Yes."
"Nowadays there are no workhouses, no refuges
and charities, nothing but that Company. Its offices
are everywhere. That blue is its colour. And any
man, woman or child who comes to be hungry and
weary and with neither home nor friend nor resort,
must go to the Company in the end--or seek some
way of death. The Euthanasy is beyond their means
--for the poor there is no easy death. And at any
hour in the day or night there is food, shelter and a
blue uniform for all comers--that is the first
condition of the Company s incorporation--and in return
for a day's shelter the Company extracts a day's work,
and then returns the visitor's proper clothing and
sends him or her out again."
"Yes?"
"Perhaps that does not seem so terrible to you. In
your days men starved in your streets. That was bad.
But they died--men. These people in blue--. The
proverb runs: 'Blue canvas once and ever.' The
Company trades in their labour, and it has taken care
to assure itself of the supply. People come to
it starving and helpless--they eat and sleep for
a night and day, they -work for a day, and at the
end of the day they go out again. If they have worked
well they have a penny or so--enough for a
theatre or a cheap dancing place, or a kinematograph
story, or a dinner or a bet. They wander about after
that is spent. Begging is prevented by the police of
- responsibility [ri,spɔnsə´biliti]
n.责任(心)；职责；任务 (初中英语单词) - generation [,dʒenə´reiʃən] n.发生；世代；同龄人 (初中英语单词)
- imagination [i,mædʒi´neiʃən] n.想象(力) (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- patience [´peiʃəns] n.忍耐(力)；耐心；坚韧 (初中英语单词)
- emotion [i´məuʃən] n.感情；情绪；激动 (初中英语单词)
- spoken [´spəukən] speak的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- miracle [´mirəkl] n.奇迹；令人惊奇的 (初中英语单词)
- strangely [´streindʒli] ad.奇怪地；陌生地 (初中英语单词)
- cradle [´kreidl] n.摇篮；发源地 (初中英语单词)
- shallow [´ʃæləu] a.肤浅的；表面的 (初中英语单词)
- canvas [´kænvəs] n.帆布；油画(布) (初中英语单词)
- horrible [´hɔrəbəl] a.可怕的；恐怖的 (初中英语单词)
- dialect [´daiəlekt] n.方言，土语，地方话 (初中英语单词)
- coarse [kɔ:s] a.粗(糙)的；粗鲁的 (初中英语单词)
- emotional [i´məuʃənəl] a.易动感情的；情感的 (初中英语单词)
- wander [´wɔndə, ´wɑ:n:dər] v.徘徊；流浪 (初中英语单词)
- incredible [in´kredəbəl] a.不能相信的；惊人的 (高中英语单词)
- reverence [´revərəns] n.尊敬；敬畏；尊严 (高中英语单词)
- illusion [i´lu:ʒən] n.幻觉；幻影；错觉 (高中英语单词)
- countless [´kauntlis] a.无数的 (高中英语单词)
- tyranny [´tirəni] n.暴政；专制政治 (高中英语单词)
- lordship [´lɔ:dʃip] n.贵族权力；阁下 (高中英语单词)
- devour [di´vauə] vt.吞食；毁坏 (高中英语单词)
- charity [´tʃæriti] n.施舍；慈悲；博爱 (高中英语单词)
- salvation [sæl´veiʃən] n.救助；拯救 (高中英语单词)
- proverb [´prɔvə:b] n.谚语；格言 (英语四级单词)
- graham [´greiəm] a.&n.用全麦粉做的 (英语四级单词)
- countryside [´kʌntrisaid] n.乡下，农村 (英语四级单词)
- awakening [ə´weikəniŋ] n.&a.觉醒(中的) (英语六级单词)
- insensible [in´sensəbəl] a.麻木的；冷淡的 (英语六级单词)
- canker [´kæŋkə] n.癌肿病；毒害 (英语六级单词)
- homeless [´həumlis] a.无家的 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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