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发信人: champaign (原野), 信区: SFworld
标 题: Under the sea 10
发信站: 哈工大紫丁香 (Thu Oct 21 21:29:48 1999), 转信
发信人: Mojun (寻找mili的mickey), 信区: SFworld
标 题: Under the sea 10
发信站: BBS 水木清华站 (Wed Feb 25 15:31:36 1998)
CHAPTER X.
THE MAN OF THE SEAS.
AT THESE words, Ned Land rose suddenly. The steward, nearly
strangled, tottered out on a sign from his master; but such was the
power of the commander on board, that not a gesture betrayed the
resentment which this man must have felt toward the Canadian.
Conseil interested in spite of himself, I stupefied, awaited in
silence the result of this scene.
The commander, leaning against a corner of the table with his arms
folded, scanned us with profound attention. Did he hesitate to
speak? Did he regret the words which he had just spoken in French? One
might almost think so.
After some moments of silence, which not one of us dreamed of
breaking, "Gentlemen," said he, in a calm and penetrating voice, "I
speak French, English, German, and Latin equally well. I could,
therefore, have answered you at our first interview, but I wished to
know you first, then to reflect. The story told by each one,
entirely agreeing in the main points, convinced me of your identity. I
know now that chance has brought before me Monsieur Pierre Aronnax,
Professor of Natural History at the Museum of Paris, entrusted with
a scientific mission abroad, Conseil his servant, and Ned Land, of
Canadian origin, harpooner on board the frigate Abraham Lincoln of the
navy of the United States of America."
I bowed assent. It was not a question that the commander put to
me. Therefore there was no answer to be made. This man expressed
himself with perfect ease, without any accent. His sentences were well
turned, his words clear, and his fluency of speech remarkable.
He continued the conversation in these terms:
"You have doubtless thought, Sir, that I have delayed long in
paying you this second visit. The reason is that, your identity
recognized, I wished to weigh maturely what part to act toward you.
I have hesitated much. Most annoying circumstances have brought you
into the presence of a man who has broken all the ties of humanity.
You have come to trouble my existence."
"Unintentionally!" said I.
"Unintentionally?" replied the stranger, raising his voice a
little; "was it unintentionally that the Abraham Lincoln pursued me
all over the seas? Was it unintentionally that you took passage in
this frigate? Was it unintentionally that your cannon balls
rebounded off the plating of my vessel? Was it unintentionally that
Mr. Ned Land struck me with his harpoon?"
I detected a restrained irritation in these words. But to these
recriminations I had a very natural answer to make, and I made it.
"Sir," said I, "no doubt you are ignorant of the discussions which
have taken place concerning you in America and Europe. You do not know
that divers accidents, caused by collisions with your submarine
machine, have excited public feeling in the two continents. I omit the
hypotheses without number by which it was sought to explain the
inexplicable phenomenon of which you alone possess the secret. But you
must understand that, in pursuing you over the high seas of the
Pacific, the Abraham Lincoln believed itself to be chasing some sea
monster, of which it was necessary to rid the ocean at any price."
A half smile curled the lips of the commander.
"M. Aronnax," he replied, "dare you affirm that your frigate would
not as soon have pursued and cannonaded a submarine boat as a
monster?"
This question embarrassed me, for certainly Captain Farragut might
not have hesitated. He might have thought it his duty to destroy a
contrivance of this kind, as he would a gigantic narwhal.
"You understand then, Sir," continued the stranger, "that I have
the right to treat you as enemies?"
I answered nothing, purposely. For what good would it be to
discuss such a proposition, when force could destroy the best
arguments?
"I have hesitated for some time," continued the commander;
"nothing obliged me to show you hospitality. If I chose to separate
myself from you, I should have no interest in seeing you again; I
could place you upon the deck of this vessel which has served you as a
refuge, I could sink beneath the waters, and forget that you had
ever existed. Would not that be my right?"
"It might be the right of a savage," I answered, "but not that
of a civilized man."
"Professor," replied the commander quickly, "I am not what you
call a civilized man! I have done with society entirely, for reasons
which I alone have the right of appreciating. I do not therefore
obey its laws, and I desire you never to allude to them before me
again!"
This was said plainly. A flash of anger and disdain kindled in the
eyes of the unknown, and I had a glimpse of a terrible past in the
life of this man. Not only had he put himself beyond the pale of human
laws, but he had made himself independent of them, free in the
strictest acceptation of the word, quite beyond their reach who then
would dare to pursue him at the bottom of the sea, when, on its
surface, he defied all attempts made against him? What vessel could
resist the shock of his submarine monitor? What cuirass, however
thick, could withstand the blows of his spur? No man could demand from
him an account of his actions; God, if he believed in one- his
conscience, if he had one- were the sole judges to whom he was
answerable.
These reflections crossed my mind rapidly, while the stranger
personage was silent, absorbed, and as if wrapped up in himself. I
regarded him with fear mingled with interest, as, doubtless, Oedipus
regarded the Sphinx.
After rather a long silence, the commander resumed the
conversation.
"I have hesitated," said he, "but I have thought that my
interest might be reconciled with that pity to which every human being
has a right. You will remain on board my vessel, since fate has cast
you there. You will be free; and in exchange for this liberty, I shall
only impose one single condition. Your word of honor to submit to it
will suffice."
"Speak, Sir," I answered, "I suppose this condition is one which a
man of honor may accept?"
"Yes, Sir; it is this. It is possible that certain events,
unforeseen, may oblige me to consign you to your cabins for some hours
or some days, as the case may be. As I desire never to use violence, I
expect from you, more than all the others, a passive obedience. In
thus acting, I take all, the responsibility; I acquit you entirely,
for I make it an impossibility for you to see, what ought not to be
seen. Do you accept this condition?"
Then things took place on board which, to say the least, were
singular, and which ought not to be seen by people who were not placed
beyond the pale of social laws. Among the surprises which the future
was preparing for me, this might not be the least.
"We accept," I answered; "only I will ask your permission, Sir, to
address one question to you, one only."
"Speak, Sir."
"You said that we should be free on board."
"Entirely."
"I ask you, then, what you mean by this liberty?"
"Just the liberty to go, to come, to see, to observe even all that
passes here, save under rare circumstances, the liberty, in short,
which we ourselves enjoy, my companions and I."
It was evident that we did not understand each other.
"Pardon me, Sir," I resumed, "but this liberty is only what
every prisoner has of pacing his prison. It cannot suffice us."
"It must suffice you, however."
"What! we must renounce forever seeing our country, our friends,
our relations again?"
"Yes, Sir. But to renounce that unendurable worldly yoke which men
believe to be liberty, is not perhaps so painful as you think."
"Well," exclaimed Ned Land, "never will I give my word of honor
not to try to escape."
"I did not ask you for your word of honor, Master Land,"
answered the commander, coldly.
"Sir," I replied, beginning to get angry in spite of myself,
"you abuse your situation toward us; it is cruelty."
"No, Sir, it is clemency. You are my prisoners of war. I keep you,
when I could, by a word, plunge you into the depths of the ocean.
You attacked me. You came to surprise a secret which no man in the
world must penetrate, the secret of my whole existence. And you
think that I am going to send you back to that world which must know
me no more? Never! In retaining you, it is not you whom I guard, it is
myself."
These words indicated a resolution taken on the part of the
commander, against which no arguments would prevail.
"So, Sir," I rejoined, "you give us simply the choice between life
and death?"
"Simply."
"My friends," said I, "to a question thus put, there is nothing to
answer. But no word of honor binds us to the master of this vessel."
"None, Sir," answered the unknown.
Then, in a gentler tone, he continued:
"Now, permit me to finish what I have to say to you. I know you,
M. Aronnax. You and your companions will not, perhaps, have so much to
complain of in the chance which has bound you to my fate. You will
find among the books which are my favorite study the work which you
have published on 'the depths of the sea.' I have often read it. You
have carried your work as far as terrestrial science permitted you.
But you do not know all, you have not seen all. Let me tell you
then, Professor, that you will not regret the time passed on board
my vessel. You are going to visit the land of marvels."
These words of the commander had a great effect upon me. I
cannot deny it. My weak point was touched; and I forgot, for a moment,
that the contemplation of these sublime subjects was not worth the
loss of liberty. Besides, I trusted to the future to decide this grave
question. So I contented myself with saying:
"By what name ought I to address you?"
"Sir," replied the commander, "I am nothing to you but Captain
Nemo; and you and your companions are nothing to me but the passengers
of the Nautilus."
Captain Nemo called. A steward appeared. The captain gave him
his orders in that strange language which I did not understand.
Then, turning toward the Canadian and Conseil:
"A repast awaits you in your cabin," said he. "Be so good as to
follow this man."
"And now, M. Aronnax, our breakfast is ready. Permit me to lead
the way."
"I am at your service, Captain."
I followed Captain Nemo; and as soon as I had passed through the
door, I found myself in a kind of passage lighted by electricity,
similar to the waist of a ship. After we had proceeded a dozen
yards, a second door opened before me.
I then entered a dining room, decorated and furnished in severe
taste. High oaken sideboards, inlaid with ebony, stood at the two
extremities of the room, and upon their shelves glittered china,
porcelain, and glass of inestimable value. The plate on the table
sparkled in the rays which the luminous ceiling shed around, while the
light was tempered and softened by exquisite paintings.
In the center of the room was a table richly laid out. Captain
Nemo indicated the place I was to occupy.
The breakfast consisted of a certain number of dishes, the
contents of which were furnished by the sea alone; and I was
ignorant of the nature and mode of preparation of some of them. I
acknowledged that they were good, but they had a peculiar flavor,
which I easily became accustomed to. These different aliments appeared
to me to be rich in phosphorus, and I thought they must have a
marine origin.
Captain Nemo looked at me. I asked him no questions, but he
guessed my thoughts, and answered of his own accord the questions
which I was burning to address to him.
"The greater part of these dishes are unknown to you," he said
to me. "However, you may partake of them without fear. They are
wholesome and nourishing. For a long time I have renounced the food of
the earth, and I am never ill now. My crew, who are healthy, are fed
on the same food."
"So," said I, "all these eatables are the produce of the sea?"
"Yes, Professor, the sea supplies all my wants. Sometimes I cast
my nets in tow, and I draw them in ready to break. Sometimes I hunt in
the midst of this element, which appears to be inaccessible to man,
and quarry the game which dwells in my submarine forests. My flocks,
like those of Neptune's old shepherds, graze fearlessly in the immense
prairies of the ocean. I have a vast property there, which I cultivate
myself, and which is always sown by the hand of the Creator of all
things."
"I can understand perfectly, Sir, that your nets furnish excellent
fish for your table; I can understand also that you hunt aquatic
game in your submarine forests; but I cannot understand at all how a
particle of meat, no matter how small, can figure in your bill of
fare."
"This, which you believe to be meat, Professor, is nothing else
than fillet of turtle. Here are also some dolphin's livers, which
you take to be ragout of pork. My cook is a clever fellow, who
excels in dressing these various products of the ocean. Taste all
these dishes. Here is a preserve of holothuria, which a Malay would
declare to be unrivaled in the world; here is a cream, of which the
milk has been furnished by the cetacea, and the sugar by the great
fucus of the North Sea; and lastly, permit me to offer you some
preserve of anemones, which is equal to that of the most delicious
fruits."
I tasted, more from curiosity than as a connoisseur, while Captain
Nemo enchanted me with his extraordinary stories.
"You like the sea, Captain?"
"Yes; I love it! The sea is everything. It covers seven-tenths
of the terrestrial globe. Its breath is pure and healthy. It is an
immense desert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life
stirring on all sides. The sea is only the embodiment of a
supernatural and wonderful existence. It is nothing but love and
emotion; it is the 'Living Infinite', as one of your poets has said.
In fact, Professor, Nature manifests herself in it by her three
kingdoms, mineral, vegetable, and animal. The sea is the vast
reservoir of Nature. The globe began with sea, so to speak; and who
knows if it will not end with it? In it is supreme tranquility. The
sea does not belong to despots. Upon its surface men can still
exercise unjust laws, fight, tear one another to pieces, and be
carried away with terrestrial horrors. But at thirty feet below its
level, their reign ceases, their influence is quenched, and their
power disappears. Ah! Sir, live- live in the bosom of the waters!
There only is independence! There I recognize no masters! There I am
free!"
Captain Nemo suddenly became silent in the midst of this
enthusiasm, by which he was quite carried away. For a few moments he
paced up and down, much agitated. Then he became more calm, regained
his accustomed coldness of expression, and turning toward me:
"Now, Professor," said he, "if you wish to go over the Nautilus, I
am at your service."
Captain Nemo rose. I followed him. A double door, contrived at the
back of the dining room, and I entered a room equal in dimensions to
that I had just quitted.
It was a library. High pieces of furniture, of black violet
ebony inlaid with brass, supported upon their wide shelves a great
number of books uniformly bound. They followed the shape of the
room, terminating at the lower part in huge divans, covered with brown
leather, which were curved, to afford the greatest comfort. Light
movable desks, made to slide in and out at will, allowed one to rest
one's book while reading. In the center stood an immense table,
covered with pamphlets, among which were some newspapers, already of
old date. The electric light flooded everything; it was shed from four
unpolished globes half sunk in the volutes of the ceiling. I looked
with real admiration at this room, so ingeniously fitted up, and I
could scarcely believe my eyes.
"Captain Nemo," said I to my host, who had just thrown himself
on one of the divans, "this is a library which would do honor to
more than one of the continental palaces, and I am absolutely
astounded when I consider that it can follow you to the bottom of
the sea."
"Where could one find greater solitude or silence, Professor?"
replied Captain Nemo. "Did your study in the Museum afford you such
perfect quiet?"
"No, Sir; and I must confess that it is a very poor one after
yours. You must have six or seven thousand volumes here."
"Twelve thousand, M. Aronnax. These are the only ties which bind
me to the earth. But I had done with the world on the day when my
Nautilus plunged for the first time beneath the waters. That day I
bought my last volumes, my last pamphlets, my last papers, and from
that time I wish to think that men no longer think or write. These
books, Professor, are at your service besides, and you can make use of
them freely."
I thanked Captain Nemo, and went up to the shelves of the library.
Works on science, morals, and literature abounded in every language;
but I did not see one single work on political economy; that subject
appeared to be strictly proscribed. Strange to say, all these books
were irregularly arranged, in whatever language they were written; and
this medley proved that the Captain of the Nautilus must have read the
books which he took up by chance.
"Sir," said I to the captain, "I thank you for having placed
this library at my disposal. It contains treasures of science, and I
shall profit by them."
"This room is not only a library," said Captain Nemo, "it is
also a smoking room."
"A smoking room!" I cried. "Then one may smoke on board?"
"Certainly."
"Then, Sir, I am forced to believe that you have kept up a
communication with Havana."
"Not any," answered the captain. "Accept this cigar, M. Aronnax;
and though it does not come from Havana, you will be pleased with
it, if you are a connoisseur."
I took the cigar which was offered me; its shape recalled the
London ones, but it seemed to be made of leaves of gold. I lighted
it at a little brazier, which was supported upon an elegant bronze
stem, and drew the first whiffs with the delight of a lover of
smoking who has not smoked for two days.
"It is excellent," said I, "but it is not tobacco."
"No!" answered the captain, "this tobacco comes neither from
Havana nor from the East. It is a kind of seaweed, rich in nicotine,
with which the sea provides me, but somewhat sparingly."
At that moment Captain Nemo opened a door which stood opposite
to that by which I had entered the library and I passed into an
immense drawing room. splendidly lighted.
It was a vast four-sided room, thirty feet long, eighteen wide,
and fifteen high. A luminous ceiling, decorated with light arabesques,
shed a soft, clear light over all the marvels accumulated in this
museum. For it was in fact a museum, in which an intelligent and
prodigal hand had gathered all the treasures of nature and art, with
the artistic confusion which distinguishes a painter's studio.
Thirty first-rate pictures, uniformly framed, separated by
bright drapery, ornamented the walls, which were hung with tapestry of
severe design. I saw works of great value, the greater part of which I
had admired in the special collections of Europe, and in the
exhibitions of paintings. The several schools of the old masters
were represented by a Madonna of Raphael, a Virgin of Leonardo da
Vinci, a nymph of Correggio, a woman of Titian, an Adoration of
Veronese, an Assumption of Murillo, a portrait of Holbein, a monk of
Velasquez, a martyr of Ribeira, a fair of Rubens, two Flemish
landscapes of Teniers, three little genre pictures of Gerard Dow,
Metsu, and Paul Potter, two specimens of Gericault and Prudhon, and
some sea pieces of Backhuysen and Vernet. Among the works of modern
painters were pictures with the signatures of Delacroix, Ingres,
Decamp, Troyon, Meissonnier, Daubigny, etc.; and some admirable
statues in marble and bronze, after the finest antique models, stood
upon pedestals in the corners of this magnificent museum. Amazement,
as the captain of the Nautilus had predicted, had already begun to
take possession of me.
"Professor," said this strange man, "you must excuse the
unceremonious way in which I receive you, and the disorder of this
room."
"Sir," I answered, "without seeking to know who you are, I
recognize in you an artist."
"An amateur, nothing more, Sir. Formerly I loved to collect
these beautiful works created by the hand of man. I sought them
greedily, and ferreted them out indefatigably, and I have been able to
bring together some objects of great value. These are my last
souvenirs of that world which is dead to me. In my eyes, your modern
artists are already old; they have two or three thousand years of
existence; I confound them in my own mind. Masters have no age."
"And these musicians?" said I, pointing out some works of Weber,
Rossini, Mozart, Beethoven, Haydn, Meyerbeer, Herold, Wagner, Auber,
Gounod, and a number of others, scattered over a large model
piano-organ which occupied one of the panels of the drawing room.
"These musicians," replied Captain Nemo, "are the contemporaries
of Orpheus; for in the memory of the dead all chronological
differences are effaced; and I am dead, Professor; as much dead as
those of your friends who are sleeping six feet under the earth!"
Captain Nemo was silent, and seemed lost in a profound reverie.
I contemplated him with deep interest, analyzing in silence the
strange expression of his countenance. Leaning on his elbow against an
angle of a costly mosaic table, he no longer saw me, he had
forgotten my presence.
I did not disturb this reverie, and continued my observation of
the curiosities which enriched this drawing room.
Under elegant glass cases, fixed by copper rivets, were classed
and labeled the most precious productions of the sea which had ever
been presented to the eye of a naturalist. My delight as a professor
may be conceived.
The division containing the zoophytes presented the most curious
specimens of the two groups of polypi and echinodermes. In the first
group, the tubipores, were gorgones arranged like a fan, soft
sponges of Syria, ises of the Molukkas, pennatules, an admirable
virgularia of the Norwegian seas, variegated umbellulairae,
alcyonariae, a whole series of madrepores, which my master Milne
Edwards has so cleverly classified, among which I remarked some
wonderful flabellinae, oculinae of the Island of Bourbon, the
"Neptune's car" of the Antilles, superb varieties of corals, in short,
every species of those curious polypi of which entire islands are
formed, which will one day become continents. Of the echinodermes,
remarkable for their coating of spines, asteri, sea stars,
pantacrinae, comatules, asterophons, echini, holothuri, etc.,
represented individually a complete collection of this group.
A somewhat nervous conchyliologist would certainly have fainted
before other more numerous cases, in which were classified the
specimens of mollusks. It was a collection of inestimable value, which
time fails me to describe minutely. Among these specimens, I will
quote from memory only the elegant royal hammer fish of the Indian
Ocean, whose regular white spots stood out brightly on a red and brown
ground, an imperial spondyle, bright-colored, bristling with spines, a
rare specimen in the European museums (I estimated its value at not
less than $5,000); a common hammer fish of the seas of New Holland,
which is only procured with difficulty; exotic buccardia of Senegal;
fragile white bivalve shells, which a breath might shatter like a soap
bubble; several varieties of the aspirgillum of Java, a kind of
calcareous tube, edged with leafy folds, and much debated by amateurs;
a whole series of trochi, some a greenish yellow, found in the
American seas, others a reddish brown, natives of Australian waters;
others from the Gulf of Mexico, remarkable for their imbricated shell;
stellari found in the southern seas; and last, the rarest of all,
the magnificent of New Zealand; and every description of delicate
and fragile shells to which science has given appropriate names.
Apart, in separate compartments, were spread out chaplets of
pearls of the greatest beauty, which reflected the electric light in
little sparks of fire; pink pearls, torn from the pinna-marina of
the Red Sea; green pearls of the haliotyde iris; yellow, blue, and
black pearls, the curious productions of the divers mollusks of
every ocean, and certain mussels of the watercourses of the North;
lastly, several specimens of inestimable value which had been gathered
from the rarest pintadines. Some of these pearls were larger than a
pigeon's egg, and were worth as much and more than that which the
traveler Tavernier sold to the Shah of Persia for three millions,
and surpassed the one in the possession of the Imam of Maskat, which I
had believed to be unrivaled in the world.
Therefore to estimate the value of this collection was simply
impossible. Captain Nemo must have expended millions in the
acquirement of these various specimens, and I was thinking what source
he could have drawn from, to have been able thus to gratify his
fancy for collecting, when I was interrupted by these words:
"You are examining my shells, Professor? Unquestionably they
must be interesting to a naturalist; but for me they have a far
greater charm, for I have collected them all with my own hand, and
there is not a sea on the face of the globe which has escaped my
researches."
"I can understand, Captain, the delight of wandering about in
the midst of such riches. You are one of those who have collected
their treasures themselves. No museum in Europe possesses such a
collection of the produce of the ocean. But if I exhaust all my
admiration upon it, I shall have none left for the vessel which
carries it. I do not wish to pry into your secrets; but I must confess
that this Nautilus with the motive power which is confined in it,
the contrivances which enable it to be worked, the powerful agent
which propels it, all excite my curiosity to the highest pitch. I
see suspended on the walls of this room instruments of whose use I
am ignorant."
"You will find these same instruments in my own room, Professor,
where I shall have much pleasure in explaining their use to you. But
first come and inspect the cabin which is set apart for your own
use. You must see how you will be accommodated on board the Nautilus."
I followed Captain Nemo, who, by one of the doors opening from
each panel of the drawing room, regained the waist. He conducted me
towards the bow, and there I found, not a cabin, but an elegant
room, with a bed, dressing table, and several other pieces of
furniture.
I could only thank my host.
"Your room adjoins mine," said he, opening a door, "and mine opens
into the drawing room that we have just quitted."
I entered the captain's room: it had a severe, almost a monkish,
aspect. A small iron bedstead, a table, some articles for the
toilet; the whole lighted by a skylight. No comforts, the strictest
necessities only.
Captain Nemo pointed to a seat.
"Be so good as to sit down," he said. I seated myself, and he
began thus:
--
我这样爱你到底对不对,
这问题问得我自己好累。
我宁愿流泪,也不愿意后悔
可是我最后注定还是要心碎
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