英语听书《白鲸记》第27期

  SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF The late CAPTAIN EZEKIEL HARDY,Who in the bows of his boat was killed by a Sperm 1 Whale on the coast of Japan,AUGUST 3d,1833.THIS TABLET Is erected 2 to his Memory BY HIS WIDOW. 

 Shaking off the sleet 3 from my ice glazed 4 hat and jacket,I seated myself near the door,and turning sideways was surprised to see Queequeg near me. 
 Affected by the solemnity of the scene,there was a wondering gaze of incredulous curiosity in his countenance 5. 
 This savage 6 was the only person present who seemed to notice my entrance;because he was the only one who could not read,and,therefore, 
 was not reading those frigid 7 inscriptions 8 on the wall.Whether any of the relatives of the seamen 9 whose names appeared there were now among the congregation, 
 I knew not;but so many are the unrecorded accidents in the fishery,and so plainly did several women present wear the countenance if not the trappings of some unceasing grief, 
 that I feel sure that here before me were assembled those,in whose unhealing hearts the sight of those bleak 10 tablets sympathetically caused the old wounds to bleed afresh. 
 Oh!ye whose dead lie buried beneath the green grass;who standing 11 among flowers can say here,HERE lies my beloved;ye know not the desolation that broods in bosoms 12 like these. 
 What bitter blanks in those black bordered marbles which cover no ashes!What despair in those immovable inscriptions!What deadly voids and unbidden infidelities in the lines that seem to gnaw 13 upon all Faith, 
 and refuse resurrections to the beings who have placelessly perished without a grave.As well might those tablets stand in the cave of Elephanta as here. 
 In what census 14 of living creatures,the dead of mankind are included;why it is that a universal proverb says of them,that they tell no tales, 
 though containing more secrets than the Goodwin Sands;how it is that to his name who yesterday departed for the other world, 
 we prefix 15 so significant and infidel a word,and yet do not thus entitle him,if he but embarks 16 for the remotest Indies of this living earth; 
 why the Life Insurance Companies pay death forfeitures 17 upon immortals;in what eternal,unstirring paralysis,and deadly,hopeless trance, 
 yet lies antique Adam who died sixty round centuries ago;how it is that we still refuse to be comforted for those who we nevertheless maintain are dwelling 19 in unspeakable bliss; 
 why all the living so strive to hush 20 all the dead;wherefore but the rumor 21 of a knocking in a tomb will terrify a whole city.All these things are not without their meanings. 
 But Faith,like a jackal,feeds among the tombs,and even from these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope. 
 It needs scarcely to be told,with what feelings,on the eve of a Nantucket voyage,I regarded those marble tablets,and by the murky 22 light of that darkened, 
 doleful day read the fate of the whalemen who had gone before me.Yes,Ishmael,the same fate may be thine.But somehow I grew merry again.Delightful 23 inducements to embark, 
 fine chance for promotion,it seems aye,a stove boat will make me an immortal 18 by brevet.Yes,there is death in this business of whaling a speechlessly quick chaotic 24 bundling of a man into Eternity 25. 
 But what then?Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death.Methinks that what they call my shadow here on earth is my true substance. 
 Methinks that in looking at things spiritual,we are too much like oysters 26 observing the sun through the water,and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air. 
 Methinks my body is but the lees of my better being.In fact take my body who will,take it I say,it is not me. 
 And therefore three cheers for Nantucket;and come a stove boat and stove body when they will,for stave my soul,Jove himself can not.