兰贝斯的丽莎 英文版 Liza of Lambeth
毛姆 W. Somerset Maugham
1
It was the first Saturday afternoon in August; it had been broilinghot all day, with a cloudless sky, and the sun had been beating downon the houses, so that the top rooms were like ovens; but now with theapproach of evening it was cooler, and everyone in Vere Street was outof doors.
Vere street, Lambeth, is a short, straight street leading out of theWestminster Bridge Road; it has forty houses on one side and fortyhouses on the other, and these eighty houses are very much more likeone another than ever peas are like peas, or young ladies like youngladies. They are newish, three-storied buildings of dingy grey brickwith slate roofs, and they are perfectly flat, without a bow-window oreven a projecting cornice or window-sill to break the straightness ofthe line from one end of the street to the other.
This Saturday afternoon the street was full of life; no traffic camedown Vere Street, and the cemented space between the pavements wasgiven up to children. Several games of cricket were being played bywildly excited boys, using coats for wickets, an old tennis-ball or abundle of rags tied together for a ball, and, generally, an oldbroomstick for bat. The wicket was so large and the bat so small thatthe man in was always getting bowled, when heated quarrels wouldarise, the batter absolutely refusing to go out and the bowlerabsolutely insisting on going in. The girls were more peaceable; theywere chiefly employed in skipping, and only abused one another mildlywhen the rope was not properly turned or the skipper did not jumpsufficiently high. Worst off of all were the very young children, forthere had been no rain for weeks, and the street was as dry and cleanas a covered court, and, in the lack of mud to wallow in, they satabout the road, disconsolate as poets. The number of babies wasprodigious; they sprawled about everywhere, on the pavement, round thedoors, and about their mothers' skirts. The grown-ups were gatheredround the open doors; there were usually two women squatting on thedoorstep, and two or three more seated on either side on chairs; theywere invariably nursing babies, and most of them showed clear signsthat the present object of the maternal care would be soon ousted by anew arrival. Men were less numerous but such as there were leantagainst the walls, smoking, or sat on the sills of the ground-floorwindows. It was the dead season in Vere Street as much as inBelgravia, and really if it had not been for babies just come or justabout to come, and an opportune murder in a neighbouring doss-house,there would have been nothing whatever to talk about. As it was, thelittle groups talked quietly, discussing the atrocity or the merits ofthe local midwives, comparing the circumstances of their variousconfinements.
'You'll be 'avin' your little trouble soon, eh, Polly?' asked one goodlady of another.
'Oh, I reckon I've got another two months ter go yet,' answered Polly.
'Well,' said a third. 'I wouldn't 'ave thought you'd go so long by thelook of yer!'
'I 'ope you'll have it easier this time, my dear,' said a very stoutold person, a woman of great importance.
'She said she wasn't goin' to 'ave no more, when the last one come.'This remark came from Polly's husband.
'Ah,' said the stout old lady, who was in the business, and boastedvast experience. 'That's wot they all says; but, Lor' bless yer, theydon't mean it.'
'Well, I've got three, and I'm not goin' to 'ave no more bli'me if Iwill; 'tain't good enough--that's wot I says.'
'You're abaht right there, ole gal,' said Polly, 'My word, 'Arry, ifyou 'ave any more I'll git a divorce, that I will.'
At that moment an organ-grinder turned the corner and came down thestreet.
'Good biz; 'ere's an organ!' cried half a dozen people at once.
The organ-man was an Italian, with a shock of black hair and aferocious moustache. Drawing his organ to a favourable spot, hestopped, released his shoulder from the leather straps by which hedragged it, and cocking his large soft hat on the side of his head,began turning the handle. It was a lively tune, and in less than notime a little crowd had gathered round to listen, chiefly the youngmen and the maidens, for the married ladies were never in a fit stateto dance, and therefore disinclined to trouble themselves to standround the organ. There was a moment's hesitation at opening the ball;then one girl said to another:
'Come on, Florrie, you and me ain't shy; we'll begin, and bust it!'
The two girls took hold of one another, one acting gentleman, theother lady; three or four more pairs of girls immediately joined them,and they began a waltz. They held themselves very upright; and with anair of grave dignity which was quite impressive, glided slowly about,making their steps with the utmost precision, bearing themselves withsufficient decorum for a court ball. After a while the men began toitch for a turn, and two of them, taking hold of one another in themost approved fashion, waltzed round the circle with the gravity ofjudges.
All at once there was a cry: 'There's Liza!' And several members ofthe group turned and called out: 'Oo, look at Liza!'
The dancers stopped to see the sight, and the organ-grinder, havingcome to the end of his tune, ceased turning the handle and looked tosee what was the excitement.
'Oo, Liza!' they called out. 'Look at Liza; oo, I sy!'
It was a young girl of about eighteen, with dark eyes, and an enormousfringe, puffed-out and curled and frizzed, covering her whole foreheadfrom side to side, and coming down to meet her eyebrows. She wasdressed in brilliant violet, with great lappets of velvet, and she hadon her head an enormous black hat covered with feathers.
'I sy, ain't she got up dossy?' called out the groups at the doors, asshe passed.
'Dressed ter death, and kill the fashion; that's wot I calls it.'
Liza saw what a sensation she was creating; she arched her back andlifted her head, and walked down the street, swaying her body fromside to side, and swaggering along as though the whole place belongedto her.
''Ave yer bought the street, Bill?' shouted one youth; and then half adozen burst forth at once, as if by inspiration:
'Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road!'
It was immediately taken up by a dozen more, and they all yelled itout:
'Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road. Yah, ah, knocked 'em in the OldKent Road!'
'Oo, Liza!' they shouted; the whole street joined in, and they gavelong, shrill, ear-piercing shrieks and strange calls, that rung downthe street and echoed back again.
'Hextra special!' called out a wag.
'Oh, Liza! Oo! Ooo!' yells and whistles, and then it thundered forthagain:
'Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road!'
Liza put on the air of a conquering hero, and sauntered on, enchantedat the uproar. She stuck out her elbows and jerked her head on oneside, and said to herself as she passed through the bellowing crowd:
'This is jam!'
'Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road!'
When she came to the group round the barrel-organ, one of the girlscried out to her:
'Is that yer new dress, Liza?'
'Well, it don't look like my old one, do it?' said Liza.
'Where did yer git it?' asked another friend, rather enviously.
'Picked it up in the street, of course,' scornfully answered Liza.
ketch 'er.'and dress .
'I believe it's the same one as I saw in the pawnbroker's dahn theroad,' said one of the men, to tease her.
'Thet's it; but wot was you doin' in there? Pledgin' yer shirt, or wasit yer trousers?'
'Yah, I wouldn't git a second-'and dress at a pawnbroker's!'
'Garn!' said Liza indignantly. 'I'll swipe yer over the snitch if yertalk ter me. I got the mayterials in the West Hend, didn't I? And I'ad it mide up by my Court Dressmiker, so you jolly well dry up, oldjellybelly.'
'Garn!' was the reply.
Liza had been so intent on her new dress and the comment it wasexciting that she had not noticed the organ.
'Oo, I say, let's 'ave some dancin',' she said as soon as she saw it.'Come on, Sally,' she added, to one of the girls, 'you an' me'll dancetogither. Grind away, old cock!'
The man turned on a new tune, and the organ began to play theIntermezzo from the 'Cavalleria'; other couples quickly followedLiza's example, and they began to waltz round with the same solemnityas before; but Liza outdid them all; if the others were as stately asqueens, she was as stately as an empress; the gravity and dignity withwhich she waltzed were something appalling, you felt that the minuetwas a frolic in comparison; it would have been a fitting measure totread round the grave of a _premiere danseuse_, or at the funeral of aprofessional humorist. And the graces she put on, the languor of theeyes, the contemptuous curl of the lips, the exquisite turn of thehand, the dainty arching of the foot! You felt there could be noquestioning her right to the tyranny of Vere Street.
Suddenly she stopped short, and disengaged herself from her companion.
'Oh, I sy,' she said, 'this is too bloomin' slow; it gives me thesick.'
That is not precisely what she said, but it is impossible always togive the exact unexpurgated words of Liza and the other personages ofthe story, the reader is therefore entreated with his thoughts topiece out the necessary imperfections of the dialogue.
'It's too bloomin' slow,' she said again; 'it gives me the sick. Let's'ave somethin' a bit more lively than this 'ere waltz. You stand overthere, Sally, an' we'll show 'em 'ow ter skirt dance.'
They all stopped waltzing.
'Talk of the ballet at the Canterbury and South London. You just witetill you see the ballet at Vere Street, Lambeth--we'll knock 'em!'
She went up to the organ-grinder.
'Na then, Italiano,' she said to him, 'you buck up; give us a tunethat's got some guts in it! See?'
She caught hold of his big hat and squashed it down over his eyes. Theman grinned from ear to ear, and, touching the little catch at theside, began to play a lively tune such as Liza had asked for.
The men had fallen out, but several girls had put themselves inposition, in couples, standing face to face; and immediately the musicstruck up, they began. They held up their skirts on each side, so asto show their feet, and proceeded to go through the difficult stepsand motions of the dance. Liza was right; they could not have done itbetter in a trained ballet. But the best dancer of them all was Liza;she threw her whole soul into it; forgetting the stiff bearing whichshe had thought proper to the waltz, and casting off its elaborategraces, she gave herself up entirely to the present pleasure.Gradually the other couples stood aside, so that Liza and Sally wereleft alone. They paced it carefully, watching each other's steps, andas if by instinct performing corresponding movements, so as to makethe whole a thing of symmetry.
'I'm abaht done,' said Sally, blowing and puffing. 'I've 'ad enough ofit.'
'Go on, Liza!' cried out a dozen voices when Sally stopped.
'Look at 'er legs!' cried one of the men.
'Look at 'er stockin's!' shouted another; and indeed they wereremarkable, for Liza had chosen them of the same brilliant hue as herdress, and was herself most proud of the harmony.
Her dance became gayer: her feet scarcely touched the ground, shewhirled round madly.
'Take care yer don't split!' cried out one of the wags, at a veryaudacious kick.
The words were hardly out of his mouth when Liza, with a giganticeffort, raised her foot and kicked off his hat. The feat was greetedwith applause, and she went on, making turns and twists, flourishingher skirts, kicking higher and higher, and finally, among a volley ofshouts, fell on her hands and turned head over heels in a magnificentcatharine-wheel; then scrambling to her feet again, she tumbled intothe arms of a young man standing in the front of the ring.
'That's right, Liza,' he said. 'Give us a kiss, now,' and promptlytried to take one.
'Git aht!' said Liza, pushing him away, not too gently.
'Yus, give us a kiss,' cried another, running up to her.
'I'll smack yer in the fice!' said Liza, elegantly, as she dodged him.
'Ketch 'old on 'er, Bill,' cried out a third, 'an' we'll all kissher.'
'Na, you won't!' shrieked Liza, beginning to run.
'Come on,' they cried, 'we'll ketch 'er.'
She dodged in and out, between their legs, under their arms, and then,getting clear of the little crowd, caught up her skirts so that theymight not hinder her, and took to her heels along the street. A scoreof men set in chase, whistling, shouting, yelling; the people at thedoors looked up to see the fun, and cried out to her as she dashedpast; she ran like the wind. Suddenly a man from the side darted intothe middle of the road, stood straight in her way, and before she knewwhere she was, she had jumped shrieking into his arms, and he, liftingher up to him, had imprinted two sounding kisses on her cheeks.
'Oh, you ----!' she said. Her expression was quite unprintable; nor canit be euphemized.
There was a shout of laughter from the bystanders, and the young menin chase of her, and Liza, looking up, saw a big, bearded man whom shehad never seen before. She blushed to the very roots of her hair,quickly extricated herself from his arms, and, amid the jeers andlaughter of everyone, slid into the door of the nearest house and waslost to view.