Stuart waked with a cry—pressed his head and looked about the room, bewildered. The tip of a swinging limb was pounding against his window pane9.
He opened the window quickly and broke the twig10.
"What a nightmare!" he exclaimed, with a shiver.
For hours its horror haunted his imagination.
He dressed and started to his club for dinner, changed his mind and turned down Broadway for the old Café Boulevard on Second Avenue. He stopped again in front of the dingy11 Bible House at the head of the Bowery and watched the flood of shopgirls and clerks passing across the street from the department stores. What an endless throng12! Hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands, men and women, girls and boys, hurrying homeward. He had never noticed them before—this mighty13 host of three hundred thousand women and five hundred thousand men who rush into these swarming14 hives every morning and stream out again in the gathering15 dusk of spring and the deepening nights of winter.
For the first time they seemed human beings who might have hopes and fears, joys and sorrows, even as he.
How strange the world began to look through the new eyes of pity a great sorrow had given him. How worn the faces of these children. They must be horribly overworked. What a pitiful, starved life for a child. He thought of his own childhood, and saw himself with swift bare feet roaming the open fields of the South.
He was struck with the wistful faces of the very young girls—eager and wise beyond their years. What an incongruous thing this mingling16 of the tense eagerness of young girlhood in the straight open stare of worldly wisdom with which some of them looked at him, and, passing, turned to look again. It made him shiver. They ought to be at school, these children; why were they here, jostling, elbowing, and fighting their way through this crowd? A floor walker passed, holding a pretty girl's arm. His position was unmistakable. No other man strolls through the world with just his step and just his elevation17 of chin—a chin that will hold its angle in death. Among the hurrying throng that jostled by were men and women with the deep cut lines of sorrow and tragedy in faces that had seen better days, but had somehow lost their way.
Stuart's heart went out to the passing crowd in a throb18 of sympathy—these slaves of the Modern Invisible Master without a soul—who asked always and without comment for efficiency and economy. They must make money for him or fall by the wayside, and, if they fell, the master never knew and couldn't care.
He ate his dinner in a whirl of confused emotion and again found himself on Broadway walking at a furious pace uptown. He had no idea how furious the pace until he suddenly noticed that he was an object of mild curiosity. He slackened his speed, conscious at last that big forces were fighting within the first pitched battle for the mastery of life.
Could high ideals survive the white heat of this furnace—the focus of the modern world's fiercest desire to live and to will—the money centre of the earth? Was not the whole structure of Society at last thoroughly materialistic19? Was not religion merely a tradition, honour and virtue20 merely the themes of song and story? Had not self and self-interest at last become the sole force behind all great deeds? It looked that way. Then why should any man be a sentimental21 fool? Why not grasp the main chance?
Why not turn now and beat Bivens at his own game? There was yet time to accept his offer, join his powerful group of the exploiters of modern industry, crush this little shrimp22 in the hollow of his fist at last, and take the woman he loved from him by the law of might. Deep within he felt throbbing23 forces of savage24 cruelty that in the centuries of the past had given his ancestors the leadership of men before the finer virtues25 of love and mercy which permitted a Bivens to exist had been born. The big nostrils26 of his long straight nose dilated27, the white hard teeth of his strong jaw28 snapped, and his eyes flashed.
Why not?
Again and again these fierce questions surged within. The "Great White Way" flashed its splendours of electric light. But there was no warmth in it for his spirit. He noted29 to-night for the first time that the lights were not hung on high for the joy of those who pass. They were flames in the temple of the new god Mammon. They were the signs of hucksters who had goods to sell to the crowds at a profit. The profusion30 of light, the rush of eager throngs31 to the theatres, the flash and clatter32 of passing carriages, the streets piled with débris, the half-finished steel skyscraper33 whose black ribs34 stood out against the stars, all brought to his imagination this evening the impression of exhaustless power.
But what power?
Certainly not the power of love, pity, heroism35, and unselfish devotion to ideals. There could be but one answer. These flaming signs in the sky were the signals of the advance skirmish line of a huge host—growing in number and power each hour—the army of Mammon!
He paused before a theatre into which a stream of pleasure seekers were pouring. The ticket speculators were yelling their wares36 on the sidewalk. The play was a famous musical comedy. He knew to-night why musical comedy had such vogue37 in the money centres of the world. It had become the supreme38 expression of the utterly39 absurd—the reduction of life to the terms of an absurdity40 expressed in rhythmic41 and sensuous42 beauty. For men whose god was money, it would doubtless become ultimately the only form of public entertainment.
He began to negotiate with one of the young Hebrew philanthropists of the pavement for a ticket, but stopped in disgust and moved on. There was something inside that hadn't surrendered. He began to be dimly conscious of the fact that the real fight had scarcely begun. The philanthropist's feelings were hurt by his abrupt43 departure. He followed for half a block holding to Stuart's coat, protesting his affectionate and earnest desire to promote his pleasure without a cent of profit. He offered to cut the price of a seat to $3.50 and solemnly swore that the unfeeling and unprincipled manager had made him pay $3.00 for the ticket.
Stuart paused a moment, his imagination caught by the ravenous44 eagerness of the man's face. Here surely was a true worshipper in the modern temple.
The young lawyer smiled and said:
"I salute45 you, my brother—I'm thinking of joining you soon!"
The speculator suddenly let go his sleeve and hurried back to his place, glancing over his shoulder with a vague fear that the lunatic might follow him.
Stuart hurried on to one of the more dignified46 and serious theatres just off Broadway. He bought a ticket and entered, wondering if he would find the house empty. To his surprise it was full—orchestra, balcony, and gallery. The play was a serious effort by a brilliant young dramatist of the modern school of realism. In two minutes from the rising of the curtain the play had gripped him with relentless47 power. Slowly, remorseless as fate, he saw the purpose of the author unfold itself in a series of tense and terrible scenes. The comedy over which the crowd laughed with such contagious48 merriment was even more sinister49 than the serious parts. No matter what the situation—whether set to laughter, to terror, or to tears—beneath it all throbbed50 one insistant question:
"Has the woman who sells herself for money a soul?"
With breathless interest he watched the cruel carving51 of her body into tiny pieces. Without sniffling, whining52, or apology, with arms bared and gleaming scalpel firmly gripped in a hand that never quivered once, the author dissected53 her. Always he could hear this white invisible figure bending over each scene talking to the audience in his quiet terrible way:
"Well, if be she has a soul, we shall find it. Perhaps it's here!" The knife flashed and the crowd laughed. The result was so unexpected, yet so remarkable54 they had to laugh.
"We'll try again!" the white figure said with a smile, "Perhaps we should go deeper."
And then with firm strong hand the last secret of muscle and nerve and bone was laid bare and the white face looked into the eyes of the audience through a mist of tears.
"I'm sorry, my friends. But we must face the truth. It's better to know the truth, however bitter, than to believe a lie. I do not dogmatize. I do not draw conclusions. I merely show you the thing that is."
With a soft rush the big curtain came down in a silence that could be felt. The dazed crowd waked from the spell and poured into the aisles55, while Stuart still sat gripping the arms of his seat with strangling emotion.
At last he said to himself with choking emphasis:
"He was cruel, inhuman56, unjust—I refuse to believe it—she has a soul—— She has a soul!"
And yet a question had been raised in his mind that was destined57 to change the whole motive58 and purpose of his life.
点击收听单词发音
1 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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2 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
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3 resentment | |
n.怨愤,忿恨 | |
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4 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
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5 hissing | |
n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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6 trickling | |
n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 );淌;使)慢慢走;缓慢移动 | |
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7 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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8 hurling | |
n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投,用力掷( hurl的现在分词 );大声叫骂 | |
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9 pane | |
n.窗格玻璃,长方块 | |
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10 twig | |
n.小树枝,嫩枝;v.理解 | |
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11 dingy | |
adj.昏暗的,肮脏的 | |
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12 throng | |
n.人群,群众;v.拥挤,群集 | |
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13 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
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14 swarming | |
密集( swarm的现在分词 ); 云集; 成群地移动; 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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15 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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16 mingling | |
adj.混合的 | |
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17 elevation | |
n.高度;海拔;高地;上升;提高 | |
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18 throb | |
v.震颤,颤动;(急速强烈地)跳动,搏动 | |
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19 materialistic | |
a.唯物主义的,物质享乐主义的 | |
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20 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
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21 sentimental | |
adj.多愁善感的,感伤的 | |
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22 shrimp | |
n.虾,小虾;矮小的人 | |
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23 throbbing | |
a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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24 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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25 virtues | |
美德( virtue的名词复数 ); 德行; 优点; 长处 | |
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26 nostrils | |
鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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27 dilated | |
adj.加宽的,扩大的v.(使某物)扩大,膨胀,张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28 jaw | |
n.颚,颌,说教,流言蜚语;v.喋喋不休,教训 | |
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29 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
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30 profusion | |
n.挥霍;丰富 | |
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31 throngs | |
n.人群( throng的名词复数 )v.成群,挤满( throng的第三人称单数 ) | |
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32 clatter | |
v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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33 skyscraper | |
n.摩天大楼 | |
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34 ribs | |
n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 );(船或屋顶等的)肋拱;肋骨状的东西;(织物的)凸条花纹 | |
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35 heroism | |
n.大无畏精神,英勇 | |
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36 wares | |
n. 货物, 商品 | |
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37 Vogue | |
n.时髦,时尚;adj.流行的 | |
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38 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
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39 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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40 absurdity | |
n.荒谬,愚蠢;谬论 | |
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41 rhythmic | |
adj.有节奏的,有韵律的 | |
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42 sensuous | |
adj.激发美感的;感官的,感觉上的 | |
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43 abrupt | |
adj.突然的,意外的;唐突的,鲁莽的 | |
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44 ravenous | |
adj.极饿的,贪婪的 | |
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45 salute | |
vi.行礼,致意,问候,放礼炮;vt.向…致意,迎接,赞扬;n.招呼,敬礼,礼炮 | |
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46 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
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47 relentless | |
adj.残酷的,不留情的,无怜悯心的 | |
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48 contagious | |
adj.传染性的,有感染力的 | |
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49 sinister | |
adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
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50 throbbed | |
抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 ); (心脏、脉搏等)跳动 | |
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51 carving | |
n.雕刻品,雕花 | |
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52 whining | |
n. 抱怨,牢骚 v. 哭诉,发牢骚 | |
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53 dissected | |
adj.切开的,分割的,(叶子)多裂的v.解剖(动物等)( dissect的过去式和过去分词 );仔细分析或研究 | |
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54 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
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55 aisles | |
n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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56 inhuman | |
adj.残忍的,不人道的,无人性的 | |
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57 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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58 motive | |
n.动机,目的;adv.发动的,运动的 | |
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