BENEATH AN UMBRELLA
（PART 3）
By Nathaniel Hawthorne
Pshaw! I will linger not another instant at arm's length from these dim terrors, which grow more obscurely formidable, the longer I delay to grapple with them. Now for the onset! And to! with little damage, save a dash of rain in the fact and breast, a splash of mud high up the pantaloons, and the left boot full of ice-cold water, behold me at the corner of the street. The lamp throws down a circle of red light around me; and twinkling onward from corner to corner, I discern other beacons marshalling my way to a brighter scene. But this is alone some and dreary spot. The tall edifices bid gloomy defiance to the storm, with their blinds all closed, even as a man winks when he faces a spattering gust. How loudly tinkles the collected rain down the tin spouts! The puffs of wind are boisterous, and seem to assail me from various quarters at once. I have often observed that this corner is a haunt and loitering-place for those winds which have no work to do upon the deep, dashing ships against our iron-bound shores; nor in theN forest, tearing up the sylvan giants with half a rood of soil at their vast roots. Here they amuse themselves with lesser freaks of mischief. See, at this moment, how they assail yonder poor woman, who is passing just within the verge of the lamplight! One blast struggles for her umbrella, and turns it wrong side outward; another whisks the cape of her cloak across her eyes; while a third takes most unwarrantable liberties with the lower part of her attire. Happily, the good dame is no gossamer, but a figure of rotundity and fleshly
substance; else would these aerial tormentors whirl her aloft, like a witch upon a broomstick, and set her down, doubtless, in the filthiest kennel hereabout.
From hence I tread upon firm pavements into the centre of the town. Here there is almost as brilliant an illumination as when some great victory has been won, either on the battle-field or at the polls. Two rows of shops, with windows down nearly to the ground, cast a glow from side to side, while the black night hangs overhead like a canopy, and thus keeps the splendor from diffusing itself away. The wet sidewalks gleam with a broad sheet of red light. The rain-drops glitter, as if the sky were pouring down rubies. The spouts gush with fire. Methinks the scene is an mblem of the deceptive glare, which mortals throw around their footsteps in the moral world, thus bedazzling themselves, till they forget the impenetrable obscurity that hems them in, and that can be dispelled only by radiance from above. And after all, it is a cheerless scene, and cheerless are the wanderers in it. Here comes one who has so long been familiar with tempestuous weather that he takes the bluster of the storm for a friendly greeting, as if it should say, "How fare ye, brother?" He is a retired sea-captain, wrapped in some nameless garment of the pea-jacket order, and is now laying his course towards the Marine Insurance Office, there to spin yarns of gale and shipwreck, with a crew of old seadogs like himself. The blast will put in its word among their hoarse voices, and be understood by all of them. Next I meet an unhappy slipshod gentleman, with a cloak flung hastily over his shoulders, running a race with boisterous winds, and striving to glide between the drops of rain. Some domestic emergency or other has blown this miserable man from his warm fireside in quest of a doctor! See that little vagabond,--how carelessly he has taken his stand right underneath a spout, while staring at some object of curiosity in a shop-window! Surely the rain is his native element; he must have fallen with it from the clouds, as frogs are supposed to do.
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哼！我将徘徊在另一个时刻疏远这些昏暗的恐惧，这种恐惧如果我一直拖延和它们在一起的时间，那么它们会变得更加地强大。现在就开始了， 没有任损失，节省了一场瓢泼大雨，在事实和乳房之间，泥水溅起到男式马裤上，另外，左边的靴子也粘满了冰水，在街角注视着我。寻那盏灯洒下一圈红色的光把我笼罩，还从一个一个的拐角处闪过，我分辨另一个灯塔来指引我走向更光明的地方。但是这是有点孤单和枯燥的地方。高大的建筑物对暴风雨的蔑视是阴沉的，他们的百叶窗都关着，就像一个人在面对一种飞溅的狂风时眨眼一样。雨水从锡管中集中流下发出的响亮的叮当声！那些风是那么喧闹，看起来就像是立即从不同的地方攻击我一样。我常常看到那个街角是一个容那样的风盘旋和栖息的地方，那些风对于这个深渊是没有用的，只能将那些船猛击如钢铁般坚固的海岸线；在森林里，巨大的树根用一半的泥土的十字架，将森林的巨人撕成了两半。在这里，他们用更少的恶作剧的怪招来自娱自乐。看，就在那会，他们怎么会攻击那边那个贫穷的妇人，那个妇人正穿过灯光的边！一阵狂风吹打着她的雨伞，但伞向外翻开。另外，还吹得她斗篷都遮住她的眼睛，而另外的三分之一的风用她下半身的衣服把最不正当的自由拿走。令人高兴的是，那个好夫人的体重并不轻，而是一个圆胖的和肉肉的物体，否则那些空想的痛苦会不会一直盘旋在她上方，像一个巫婆坐在扫帚上，把她放下来，毫无疑问，在肮脏的狗舍附近。
因此，我穿过人行道走到了小镇中心。当一些伟大的胜利在这里取得时，这里是杰出和明智的，既可在战场上也可在选举中。两边的商店，几乎都是落地窗，左右摇摆捕捉光明，当黑夜像一个苍穹悬挂在天上时，所以，要保持着光彩不让其散去。湿漉漉的人行道洒下一层薄薄的红晕。雨滴发着光，就像从天下落下红宝石。水柱像是带着火喷涌而出。我想这情景就是一种欺诈之光的象征，所以，使他们 觉得很迷惑，但是他们忘记那种不能通过的阴暗包围着他们，这些阴暗只能被上面的光的驱散。毕竟，这是阴郁的场景，而在这个场景中都是流浪者。有一个类似于暴风雨的天气的天气来了，它用暴风雨的咆哮来打招呼，就像是在说：你觉得咋样，兄弟？他是一个退休了的船长，穿着一件不知道名的厚呢大衣外套，径直走向海事保险办公室，在那里有一群和他一样的老海员不断地讲述着关于狂风和海难的故事。那个爆炸以它的独有的沙哑声音加入他们，并能让他们都理解它的话。接下来，我见到了一个不快乐穿着有点落魄的绅士，他的斗篷快速地翻过他的肩膀，跟着喧闹的风奔跑，想要在雨中滑行。一些国家的突发事件或是别的什么事让这个卑鄙的男人远离了在温暖的炉边向医生询问！看看这个小流浪汉，---他是多么地粗心，“正好”站在了水管下面，在看着商店橱窗里那些令人好奇的东西！可确定的是，外面的雨是他的本土元素，他必须和那些雨一样从云上落下来，就像青蛙被认为的那样。
