I had not announced my arrival to Stroeve, and when I rang the bell of his studio, on opening the door himself, for a moment he did not know me. —
我还没有告知斯特罗夫我的到来，当我按响他工作室的门铃时，他亲自打开门，片刻间他没认出我。 —

Then he gave a cry of delighted surprise and drew me in. —
然后他惊喜地叫了起来，把我拉了进去。 —

It was charming to be welcomed with so much eagerness. —
被如此热情地欢迎真是太让人愉悦了。 —

His wife was seated near the stove at her sewing, and she rose as I came in. He introduced me.
他的妻子坐在炉边做着针线活，我进来时她站了起来。他向她介绍了我。

“Don’t you remember?” he said to her. “I’ve talked to you about him often. ” And then to me: —
“你不记得吗？”他对她说。“我经常跟你提起过他。”然后对我说： —

“But why didn’t you let me know you were coming? How long have you been here? —
“但为什么你不通知我你要来？你在这里多久了？ —

How long are you going to stay? Why didn’t you come an hour earlier, and we would have dined together?”
你要待多久？为什么不早一个小时，我们就能一起用餐了？”

He bombarded me with questions. He sat me down in a chair, patting me as though I were a cushion, pressed cigars upon me, cakes, wine. —
他对我连珠炮般提出了问题。他让我坐下来，像对待一个坐垫一样拍拍我，给我递雪茄，蛋糕，葡萄酒。 —

He could not let me alone. He was heart-broken because he had no whisky, wanted to make coffee for me, racked his brain for something he could possibly do for me, and beamed and laughed, and in the exuberance of his delight sweated at every pore.
他实在是放不下我。他因为没有威士忌而心碎，想为我冲咖啡，绞尽脑汁想着能为我做点什么，笑容满面，兴高采烈之间，每个毛孔都冒汗。

“You haven’t changed, ” I said, smiling, as I looked at him.
“你一点都没变，”我笑着看着他说。

He had the same absurd appearance that I remembered. —
他的外表跟我记忆中一模一样。 —

He was a fat little man, with short legs, young still – he could not have been more than thirty – but prematurely bald. —
他是个胖乎乎的小个子，腿短，还年轻 – 他不可能超过三十岁 – 但已经秃顶。 —

His face was perfectly round, and he had a very high colour, a white skin, red cheeks, and red lips. His eyes were blue and round too, he wore large gold-rimmed spectacles, and his eyebrows were so fair that you could not see them. —
他的脸完全圆溜溜的，皮肤很白，两颊通红，嘴唇也是红的。他的眼睛也是蓝色的，又圆又大，戴着一副大金边眼镜，眉毛又那么淡，你都看不见他的眉毛。 —

He reminded you of those jolly, fat merchants that Rubens painted.
他让人想起鲁本斯画的那些胖商人。

When I told him that I meant to live in Paris for a while, and had taken an apartment, he reproached me bitterly for not having let him know. —
当我告诉他我打算在巴黎住一段时间，已经租了一间公寓时，他非常抱怨我没有告诉他。 —

He would have found me an apartment himself, and lent me furniture – did I really mean that I had gone to the expense of buying it? —
他本来会帮我找公寓，并借给我家具 – 难道我真的花了钱买了吗？ —

– and he would have helped me to move in. —
– 他还会帮我搬家的。 —

He really looked upon it as unfriendly that I had not given him the opportunity of making himself useful to me. —
他真的觉得我没有给他提供帮助的机会对他很不友好。 —

Meanwhile, Mrs. Stroeve sat quietly mending her stockings, without talking, and she listened to all he said with a quiet smile on her lips.
同时，斯特劳夫太太静静地修补着袜子，一言不发，听着他说话，嘴角带着淡淡的微笑。

“So, you see, I’m married, ” he said suddenly; “what do you think of my wife?”
“所以，你看，我已经结婚了，”他突然说道；“你觉得我的妻子怎么样？”

He beamed at her, and settled his spectacles on the bridge of his nose. —
他满面笑容地看着她，调整了鼻梁上的眼镜。 —

The sweat made them constantly slip down.
汗水使眼镜不断下滑。

“What on earth do you expect me to say to that?” I laughed.
“你到底希望我对此说些什么？”我笑了。

“Really, Dirk, ” put in Mrs. Stroeve, smiling.
“真的，Dirk，”Stroeve夫人插话道，微笑着。

“But isn’t she wonderful? I tell you, my boy, lose no time; get married as soon as ever you can. —
“但她不是很了不起吗？告诉你，我的孩子，不要浪费时间；尽快结婚吧。” —

I’m the happiest man alive. Look at her sitting there. Doesn’t she make a picture? Chardin, eh? —
“我是这个世界上最幸福的人。看看她坐在那里。她不是一幅画吗？像夏尔丹（Chardin）的作品，是吗？” —

I’ve seen all the most beautiful women in the world; —
“我看过世界上最美丽的女人；” —

I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful than Madame Dirk Stroeve. “
“我从未见过比Dirk Stroeve夫人更美丽的人。”

“If you don’t be quiet, Dirk, I shall go away. “
“如果你不安静，Dirk，我会走开的。”

“Mon petit chou”, he said.
“Mon petit chou，”他说。

She flushed a little, embarrassed by the passion in his tone. —
她微红着脸，被他语气中的激情感到有些尴尬。 —

His letters had told me that he was very much in love with his wife, and I saw that he could hardly take his eyes off her. —
他的信里告诉我，他非常爱他的妻子，而我看得出他几乎无法移开眼睛。 —

I could not tell if she loved him. Poor pantaloon, he was not an object to excite love, but the smile in her eyes was affectionate, and it was possible that her reserve concealed a very deep feeling. —
我无法确定她是否爱他。可怜的小丑，他并不是一个能引起爱情的对象，但她眼中的微笑是充满了深情，她的保留可能隐藏了很深的感情。 —

She was not the ravishing creature that his love-sick fancy saw, but she had a grave comeliness. —
她并不是他那个爱痴的幻想中那位迷人的人，但她有一种严肃的美。 —

She was rather tall, and her gray dress, simple and quite well-cut, did not hide the fact that her figure was beautiful. —
她相当高，她灰色的裙子简单而剪裁得体，不掩盖她的身材很美丽这一事实。 —

It was a figure that might have appealed more to the sculptor than to the costumier. —
这样的身材可能更吸引雕塑家而不是服装设计师。 —

Her hair, brown and abundant, was plainly done, her face was very pale, and her features were good without being distinguished. —
她的头发是棕色而丰富的，素雅地做好，她的脸色苍白，五官端庄而不出众。 —

She had quiet gray eyes. She just missed being beautiful, and in missing it was not even pretty. —
她有着宁静的灰色眼睛。她差一点就是美丽的，而在错过美丽之后，甚至也不算漂亮。 —

But when Stroeve spoke of Chardin it was not without reason, and she reminded me curiously of that pleasant housewife in her mob-cap and apron whom the great painter has immortalised. —
但当斯特罗夫提到沙当时，他并非毫无道理，她让我奇怪地想起了那位戴着围裙和围裙的愉快家庭主妇，被伟大的画家永远地留存了下来。 —

I could imagine her sedately busy among her pots and pans, making a ritual of her household duties, so that they acquired a moral significance; —
我可以想象她在锅碗瓢盆间恪尽职守，使她的家务工作成为一种仪式，让它们具有了一种道德意义； —

I did not suppose that she was clever or could ever be amusing, but there was something in her grave intentness which excited my interest. —
我并不认为她聪明或者能成为乐趣所在，但她那严肃的专注引起了我的兴趣。 —

Her reserve was not without mystery. I wondered why she had married Dirk Stroeve. —
她的保留不乏一些神秘。我想知道为什么她嫁给了迪克·斯特罗夫。 —

Though she was English, I could not exactly place her, and it was not obvious from what rank in society she sprang, what had been her upbringing, or how she had lived before her marriage. —
虽然她是英国人，但我却没法确切地推断她的身份地位，她的成长背景，或者在婚前生活过怎样的生活。 —

She was very silent, but when she spoke it was with a pleasant voice, and her manners were natural.
她非常沉默，但说话时声音悦耳，举止自然。

I asked Stroeve if he was working.
我问斯特罗夫是否在创作。

“Working? I’m painting better than I’ve ever painted before. “
“创作？我现在画得比以往任何时候都好。”

We sat in the studio, and he waved his hand to an unfinished picture on an easel. —
我们坐在工作室里，他指着三脚架上的一幅尚未完成的画。 —

I gave a little start. He was painting a group of Italian peasants, in the costume of the Campagna, lounging on the steps of a Roman church.
我稍微震惊了一下。他正在画一群身穿Campagna服饰的意大利农民，懒洋洋地倚在一座罗马教堂的台阶上。

“Is that what you’re doing now?” I asked.
“那是你现在在干什么吗？”我问道。

“Yes. I can get my models here just as well as in Rome. “
“是的。我在这里找得到我的模特，就像在罗马一样。”

“Don’t you think it’s very beautiful?” said Mrs. Stroeve.
“你不觉得很美吗？”斯特罗夫的太太说。

“This foolish wife of mine thinks I’m a great artist, ” said he.
“我这愚蠢的妻子认为我是伟大的艺术家，”他说。

His apologetic laugh did not disguise the pleasure that he felt. His eyes lingered on his picture. —
他道歉的笑声并没有掩饰住他的喜悦。他的目光停留在自己的画作上。 —

It was strange that his critical sense, so accurate and unconventional when he dealt with the work of others, should be satisfied in himself with what was hackneyed and vulgar beyond belief.
他的批判眼光，当他处理别人的作品时总是准确而不拘一格，然而对自己却满足于陈腐和庸俗到难以置信的程度，这真是奇怪。

“Show him some more of your pictures, ” she said.
“让他看看你的更多画作吧,” 她说。

“Shall I?”
“我该吗？”

Though he had suffered so much from the ridicule of his friends, Dirk Stroeve, eager for praise and naively self-satisfied, could never resist displaying his work. —
虽然他遭受过朋友们的嘲笑，但迫切渴求赞美且天真自满的德克·斯特罗夫却始终无法抗拒展示自己的作品。 —

He brought out a picture of two curly-headed Italian urchins playing marbles.
他拿出了一幅画，画着两个卷发的意大利顽童在玩弹珠。

“Aren’t they sweet?” said Mrs. Stroeve.
“他们不是可爱吗？” 斯特罗夫太太说。

And then he showed me more. I discovered that in Paris he had been painting just the same stale, obviously picturesque things that he had painted for years in Rome. It was all false, insincere, shoddy; —
然后他展示给我看更多。我发现在巴黎，他画的仍然是同样陈腐、明显风景优美的事物，这些年来他一直在罗马所画的。这一切都是虚假、不真诚、劣质的； —

and yet no one was more honest, sincere, and frank than Dirk Stroeve. —
然而也没有人比德克·斯特罗夫更真诚、坦诚和坦率。 —

Who could resolve the contradiction?
谁能解决这个矛盾？

I do not know what put it into my head to ask:
我不知为何突然问道：

“I say, have you by any chance run across a painter called Charles Strickland?”
“你有没有碰到一个叫查尔斯·斯特里克兰的画家？”

“You don’t mean to say you know him?” cried Stroeve.
“你不是说你认识他吗？” 斯特罗夫叫道。

“Beast, ” said his wife.
“畜生,” 他的妻子说。

Stroeve laughed.
斯特罗夫笑了。

“Ma pauvre cherie. ” He went over to her and kissed both her hands. —
“我的可怜宝贝。”他走过去亲吻了她双手。 —

“She doesn’t like him. How strange that you should know Strickland!”
“她不喜欢他。你竟然认识Strickland，真奇怪！”

“I don’t like bad manners, ” said Mrs. Stroeve.
“我不喜欢没礼貌，”Stroeve夫人说道。

Dirk, laughing still, turned to me to explain.
Dirk仍在笑着，转向我解释。

“You see, I asked him to come here one day and look at my pictures. —
“你看，有一天我请他来这里看我的画。” —

Well, he came, and I showed him everything I had. ” Stroeve hesitated a moment with embarrassment. —
“好吧，他来了，我把我所有的东西都给了他看。”Stroeve犹豫了一会，感到尴尬。 —

I do not know why he had begun the story against himself; he felt an awkwardness at finishing it. —
“我不知道为什么他开始说坏话自己；讲到这里，他感到尴尬。” —

“He looked at – at my pictures, and he didn’t say anything. —
“他看着 - 看着我的画，什么也没说。” —

I thought he was reserving his judgment till the end. And at last I said: —
“我以为他是在留意他的看法直到最后。最后我说： —

There, that's the lot!' He said:I came to ask you to lend me twenty francs. ‘”
‘这就是全部！’ 他说：’我来是想问你借20法郎。’”

“And Dirk actually gave it him, ” said his wife indignantly.
“Dirk竟然给了他，”他的妻子愤愤不平地说。

“I was so taken aback. I didn’t like to refuse. —
“我当时吓了一跳，不好意思拒绝。” —

He put the money in his pocket, just nodded, said ‘Thanks, ’ and walked out. “
“他把钱塞进口袋，点了点头，说了声’谢谢’，就走了。”

Dirk Stroeve, telling the story, had such a look of blank astonishment on his round, foolish face that it was almost impossible not to laugh.
Stroeve讲述着这个故事，他那个圆圆傻乎乎的脸上带着一副茫然的惊讶表情，简直不可能不笑。

“I shouldn’t have minded if he’d said my pictures were bad, but he said nothing – nothing. “
“如果他说我的画很糟糕，我也不会介意，但他什么也没说 - 什么也没说。”

“And you will tell the story, Dirk, ” Said his wife.
“你会讲述这个故事，迪克，”他的妻子说道。

It was lamentable that one was more amused by the ridiculous figure cut by the Dutchman than outraged by Strickland’s brutal treatment of him.
人们更多地被那个荷兰人荒谬的形象逗乐，而不是对斯特里克兰对他的残酷对待感到愤怒，这是令人遗憾的。

“I hope I shall never see him again, ” said Mrs. Stroeve.
“我希望再也不要见到他了，”斯特罗夫太太说。

Stroeve smiled and shrugged his shoulders. He had already recovered his good-humour.
斯特罗夫笑了笑，耸了耸肩。他已经恢复了好心情。

“The fact remains that he’s a great artist, a very great artist. “
“事实仍然是，他是一个伟大的艺术家，一个非常伟大的艺术家。”

“Strickland?” I exclaimed. “It can’t be the same man. “
“斯特里克兰？”我惊讶地说道。“不可能是同一个人。”

“A big fellow with a red beard. Charles Strickland. An Englishman. “
“一个满脸红须子的大个子。查尔斯·斯特里克兰。一个英国人。”

“He had no beard when I knew him, but if he has grown one it might well be red. —
“我认识他时没有胡须，但如果他长了，很可能是红色的。” —

The man I’m thinking of only began painting five years ago. “
“我想的那个人只开始绘画五年前。”

“That’s it. He’s a great artist. “
“就是他。他是一个伟大的艺术家。”

“Impossible. “
“不可能。”

“Have I ever been mistaken?” Dirk asked me. “I tell you he has genius. I’m convinced of it. —
“我有过错吗？”迪克问我。“我告诉你，他有天赋。我确信不疑。” —

In a hundred years, if you and I are remembered at all, it will be because we knew Charles Strickland. “
“一百年后，如果我们得到了记忆，那将是因为我们认识了查尔斯·斯特里克兰。”

I was astonished, and at the same time I was very much excited. —
我很惊讶，同时也很兴奋。 —

I remembered suddenly my last talk with him.
我突然想起了我和他的最后一次交谈。

“Where can one see his work?” I asked. “Is he having any success? Where is he living?”
“我们可以在哪里看到他的作品？”我问道。“他有什么成就吗？他住在哪里？”

“No; he has no success. I don’t think he’s ever sold a picture. —
“没有，他没有成功。我觉得他从来没有卖过一幅画。” —

When you speak to men about him they only laugh. But I know he’s a great artist. —
当你和别人谈到他时，他们只会笑。但我知道他是个伟大的艺术家。 —

After all, they laughed at Manet. Corot never sold a picture. —
毕竟，人们曾嘲笑马奈。科罗特从来没有卖过一幅画。 —

I don’t know where he lives, but I can take you to see him. —
我不知道他住在哪里，但我可以带你去见他。 —

He goes to a cafe in the Avenue de Clichy at seven o’clock every evening. —
他每天晚上七点会去克里希大道的一个咖啡馆。 —

If you like we’ll go there to-morrow. “
如果你愿意，明天我们可以去那里。”

“I’m not sure if he’ll wish to see me. I think I may remind him of a time he prefers to forget. —
“我不确定他是否愿意见我。我觉得我可能会让他想起他宁愿忘记的时光。 —

But I’ll come all the same. Is there any chance of seeing any of his pictures?”
但我还是会去。有什么机会可以看到他的画吗？”

“Not from him. He won’t show you a thing. There’s a little dealer I know who has two or three. —
“不是他展示的。他不会给你看任何东西。我认识一个小画商，他有两三幅。 —

But you mustn’t go without me; you wouldn’t understand. —
但你不能没有我去；你不会理解。 —

I must show them to you myself. “
我必须亲自带你看。”

“Dirk, you make me impatient, ” said Mrs. Stroeve. —
“迪克，你让我失去耐心，” 斯特罗夫夫人说道。 —

“How can you talk like that about his pictures when he treated you as he did?” She turned to me. —
“当他对待你的时候，你怎么能这样谈论他的画？” 她转向我。 —

“Do you know, when some Dutch people came here to buy Dirk’s pictures he tried to persuade them to buy Strickland’s? —
“你知道吗，当一些荷兰人来这里买迪克的画时，他竭力劝说他们买斯特里克兰的？” —

He insisted on bringing them here to show. “
他坚持要把它们带到这里来展示。

“What did you think of them?” I asked her, smiling.
“你觉得它们怎么样？”我微笑着问她。

“They were awful. “
“太糟糕了。”

“Ah, sweetheart, you don’t understand. “
“啊，亲爱的，你不明白。”

“Well, your Dutch people were furious with you. They thought you were having a joke with them. “
“嗯，你的荷兰朋友对你很生气。他们认为你在跟他们开玩笑。”

Dirk Stroeve took off his spectacles and wiped them. His flushed face was shining with excitement.
德克·斯特罗夫脱下眼镜擦了擦。他激动得脸颊泛红。

“Why should you think that beauty, which is the most precious thing in the world, lies like a stone on the beach for the careless passer-by to pick up idly? —
“你为什么会认为美，这个世界上最宝贵的东西，像是一块石头躺在海滩上，供疏忽大意的过路人随便捡拾呢？ —

Beauty is something wonderful and strange that the artist fashions out of the chaos of the world in the torment of his soul. —
美是艺术家在灵魂的折磨里从世界的混沌中塑造出来的奇妙和奇特的东西。 —

And when he has made it, it is not given to all to know it. —
而当他创造完毕时，并非所有人都能认识它。 —

To recognize it you must repeat the adventure of the artist. —
要认识它，你必须重复艺术家的冒险。 —

It is a melody that he sings to you, and to hear it again in your own heart you want knowledge and sensitiveness and imagination. “
它是他对你唱的旋律，要想在自己的心中再次听到它，你需要知识、敏感和想象力。”

“Why did I always think your pictures beautiful, Dirk? —
“为什么我总是觉得你的画很美，德克？ —

I admired them the very first time I saw them. “
我第一次看到它们就很钦佩。”

Stroeve’s lips trembled a little.
斯特罗夫的嘴唇微微颤抖。

“Go to bed, my precious. I will walk a few steps with our friend, and then I will come back. “
“宝贝，你上床睡吧。我会和我们的朋友走几步，然后就回来。”