'Oh, you ----!' she said. Her expression was quite unprintable; nor can it be euphemized.
There was a shout of laughter from the bystanders, and the young men in chase of her, and Liza, looking up, saw a big, bearded man whom she had never seen before. She blushed to the very roots of her hair, quickly extricated herself from his arms, and, amid the jeers and laughter of everyone, slid into the door of the nearest house and was lost to view.
八月的第二个星期六下午。那天从早晨就热得火辣辣的I碧空无云，太阳逼在屋顶上，顶层的房间热得象火坑。可是此刻随着黄昏的来临，天气凉快了些，维尔街上住的每一个人都跑到了门外来。
兰贝斯区注的维尔街是威斯敏斯特桥大道岔出来的一条短而直的小街，两旁一边有四十幢房子，另一边也是四十幢。这八十幢房子的模样都差不多，比一颗颗豌豆、一个个姑娘更彼此相似。这些房屋是用暗淡的灰色砖砌的三层楼房，还不很陈旧，屋顶是石板盖的。两排房屋的正面截平，没有凸肚窗，甚至没有檐口或窗盘冲破这条小街从头至尾一直线的平整。
这个星期六的下午，街上热闹得很。没有车辆开到维尔街来，人行道之间的水泥马路上全是孩子们在玩。喧嚣的男孩子们分了几摊在打板球。他们脱下外套，堆成了球门，用旧网球或者扎起一束破布作球儿，还往往用旧扫帚柄当球棒。球门那么宽，球棒又那么细，所以击球手弄不好就得退场。但是击球手坚决不肯出去，而投球手坚持定要进来，于是激烈争吵起来。
女孩子们比较文静。她们主要是跳绳，只有在绳子挥得不好，或者跳的人跳得不够高时，才彼此稍微埋怨两声。
最苦恼的是那些年龄很小的孩子们，因为连着几个星期没有下雨，街上干干的，清洁得象有棚顶的院子，没有泥浆给他们在里面打滚，只好在马路上三三两两呆坐着，象诗人一样忧忧郁郁的。
婴孩可多啦，他们在人行道上、在一家家门口、在他们母亲的裙脚底下到处乱爬。
成年入团聚在一些敞开的大门口，往往是两个女的蹲坐在门前石阶上，两旁各有两、三个坐在椅子上。她们总是抱着小宝宝，而且清楚地看得出，她们中间大多数现在的心肝宝贝不久将被新生的所排斥。男人没有女人多，可是在那里的男人们不是靠在墙上抽着烟，就是坐在底层窗口的石槛上。
这时候的维尔街同贝尔格雷维亚注一样，不是在社交季节，的确要不是有那些刚生下和即将生下的婴孩们和附近小客栈里正好发生的杀人事件，他们简直没有谈话的资料。事实上，一小圈一小圈的人都悄悄地交谈着，议论当地的接生婆是残酷还是有她们的用处，相互比较各人每次分娩的情况。
“你不久又要吃点小苦头啦，是不是，波莉？”一个好心的女人问另一个。
“哦，我算算还有两个月哪，”波莉回答。
“不过，”第三个说，“我看你样子，原以为你就快生了。”
“我希望你这回生得顺当些，我亲爱的”，一个健壮而很有威望的老太太说。
“她上回生了那个，原说再也不要生孩子了。”波莉的丈夫插嘴说。
“啊，”那个健壮的老太太对此最在行，常夸耀自己的丰富经验，她说，“她们都是那么说的；可是，上帝保佑，有哪个照着做的？”
“不过我已经有了三个，我可真不要再生孩子了，杀我头也不生；再生下去不得了——我是那么说。”
“你这话说得对了，好阿姨，”波莉说。“说真的，哈利，你再要我生孩子，我准跟你离婚，我说了算。”
正在这时候，一个摇风琴的卖艺人拐着弯儿朝这条小街上走来了。
“好哇，风琴来了！”六七个人同时叫喊起来。
那摇风琴的是个意大利人，一头蓬松的黑头发，嘴上盖着一小簇浓密的胡子。他把风琴拖到一个合适的地方，站定了下来，把拖风琴的皮带从肩胛上卸了下来，顺手把他柔软的大帽子往半边头上一侧，开始摇动起风琴的摇柄来。
他奏的是一支轻快的曲子，不一会一小群人就聚拢来听了，主要是年轻小伙子和姑娘们，因为已经结了婚的女人再也不适宜跳舞，所以无意去挨在风琴周围凑热闹。起初大家犹豫了一会，舞会没有就开始；随后有一个姑娘对另一个说一一
“来吧，弗洛莉，你和我不是忸忸怩怩的；我们来开个头，来！”
两个姑娘互相抱住，一个作男的，一个作女的；另外三、四对姑娘马上跟上了她们，一起跳起华尔兹来。她们身子挺直，非常庄重严肃，缓慢地滑动着，步子极其准确，文雅得足以适应宫廷舞会。过了一会，男人们脚痒起来，其中两个用最标准的姿势相互搭起跳舞的架子，象法官般地庄严，绕着圈子也跳起华尔兹来。
突然一声叫喊：“丽莎来了！”人群中有几个回过头去，大声嚷道：“嗬——瞧丽莎！”
在跳舞的人也停下来看她的丰姿，摇风琴的摇完了这一曲，也停了下来，瞧是什么叫人这样激动的。
“嗬——丽莎！”他们齐声号叫。“瞧丽莎；嗬——瞧啊！”
来的是一个约莫十八岁的年轻姑娘，黑眼珠，蓬松而鬈曲的刘海遮掩着整个前额，直垂在眉毛处。她穿着一身鲜艳的紫罗兰色的衣裳，飘舞着宽阔的丝绒裙边，头上戴着一顶插满羽毛的黑色大帽子。
“瞧，她打扮得多漂亮！”她走过人家门口的时候，门口的人群中发出了这样的叫喊。
“穿着漂亮极了，我说是盖了帽了。”
丽莎看到自己所引起的震动；她把身子稍稍向前倾，一摇一摆，昂首阔步朝街上走来，扬扬得意，仿佛整个这块天地是属于她的。
“你把这条街买下来了吗，比尔？”一个小伙子喊道；接着六七个小伙子似乎得到了灵感，立即齐声高呼一
“压倒了老肯特大道上的娘儿们注！”
一下子另外六七个小伙子接了上来，他们一起尽着嗓子大叫——
“压倒了老肯特大道上的娘儿们！嗨，嗨，压倒了老肯特大道上的娘儿们！”
“嗬——丽莎！”他们呼唤；整个街道的人们合成一气，发出长长的刺耳的尖叫和呼啸，从小街的这一头传到那一头，又从那一头传回到这一头。
“妙得出奇！”一个爱说笑话的人说。
“嗨，丽莎！嗬——！嗬——！”一片叫喊声和口哨声，然后又是雷声般地响起了——
“压倒了老肯特大道上的娘儿们！’’
丽莎摆出征服一切英雄的神气，踱步前来，陶醉在喧闹的呼声之中。她撑起臂肘子，侧着头，在人丛中一路走过去，心想——
“够味儿！”
“压倒了老肯特大道上的娘儿们！”
当她走到风琴周围的人群时，有个姑娘大声问她一
“这是你的新衣裳吗，丽莎？”
“怎么，不象是旧的吧，”丽莎说。
“哪儿来的？”另一个朋友带着妒忌的口气问她。
“街上拾来的，还有哪儿来！”丽莎鄙夷地回答她。
“这套衣裳正是我在威斯敏斯特桥大道的当铺里看到过的，”一个男人有意说这话逗弄她。
“是啊；不过你在那里干什么？是在当你的衬衫，还是裤子？”
“哼，我才不要在当铺里买旧衣裳哩！”
“见你的鬼！”丽莎愤怒地说。“你再跟我噜苏，我给你个嘴巴子。我这衣裳，料子是西区注买来的，叫我的宫廷服装师给我做的，这下你可以少耍贫嘴了，朋友。”
“去你的！”那个人回答。
丽莎一心关注着她的新衣裳和它所引起的议论，所以没注意到那个风琴。
“噢——风琴，嗨，我们来跳一会舞吧，”她一看见风琴，嚷道。“来啊，萨莉，”她随即对一个姑娘说，“你跟我一起跳。风琴摇起来，老头儿！”
那个人换了一支新的曲子，风琴开始奏起《乡村骑士》注中的《间奏曲》。另外的一对对很快就跟着丽莎一块跳起来，她们同先前一样庄严地开始绕着圈子跳华尔兹；然而丽莎卓然不同于众，如果说别人雍容大方如女王，那她是仪表万千如女皇。她跳华尔兹的平稳和端庄令人震惊，在对比之下，你会觉得法国式的小步舞简直是开玩笑；那该是适合于在舞蹈明星的坟墓周围或者职业幽默家的葬礼上跳的舞步。她的优雅的丰姿，眼睛里迷惘的神情，翘起的嘴唇上的轻蔑的表情，手轻轻的一转，脚微微的一侧：多美啊！你不由得承认，她确有十足的权利称霸于维尔街上。
她忽地停了下来，摆脱了她的舞伴。
“啊，”她说，“这曲子慢得要死，我都要呕出来了。”
这并不是她的原话，不过丽莎和这个故事中其他人物所说的原话，要全部准确写出来，也不大可能；因此还得要求读者运用自己的想象力，去补足这些对话中不得已的失真之处。
“曲子太慢，’’她又说了一遍；“我都要呕出来了。给我们奏点比这支华尔兹更轻快些的。你站到那边去，萨莉，我们来给她们看看怎么跳长裙舞。注”
他们都停止了跳华尔兹。
“讲什么坎特伯雷和伦敦南区的芭蕾舞。你们等着瞧兰贝斯区维尔街的芭蕾舞吧——我们要压倒它们！”
她走到摇风琴的跟前。
“喂，意大利朋友，”她对他说，“快点，给我们来一支有劲些的曲子！懂吗？”
她抓起他的大帽子，压在他的眼睛上。那个人咧着嘴笑起来，把压着眼睛的帽子往一边推开些，开始奏起丽莎要求的那种轻快的曲子。
男人们退了下去，而几个姑娘站好了位置，一对对面对面的。音乐一响，她们就翩翩起舞了。她们双手拎起裙子的两边，让大家能看她们的脚。她们按着拍子表演这种舞蹈的很难跳的步子和很难做的动作。丽莎说得不错；专门训练过的芭蕾舞演员也未必比她们跳得好。而她们中间跳得最出色的是丽莎。她全神贯注，忘却了她认为跳华尔兹时应该保持的端正姿势，屏弃了华尔兹的复杂的优雅步法，完全纵情于此时此刻的欢乐。
渐渐地，其余的一对对站到了一边去，只剩下丽莎和萨莉两个。她们跳得很认真，相互盯着对方的脚步，似乎出于本能似地，每个动作都配合得非常协调，整个舞蹈显得无限地谐和。
“我快透不过气来了，”萨莉气喘吁吁地说。“我吃不消啦。”
“再跳下去，丽莎！”当萨莉停下来时，几个声音高喊着。
她仿佛没听见他们的叫喊，只是悠然继续她的舞蹈。她顺着拍子跳去，飘飘然宛如在往还滑翔，一面挥动着她的裙子，一切都是不可思议地美妙。过了一会，音乐转了，她的舞蹈风格随之变换，脚步加速，时而飘离地面。
她为周围观看的人的赞赏而感奋，越跳越奔放、越大胆。她把裙子提得更高，即兴地插入新的更难的动作，踢起腿，向前向后地摆动，做出了舞蹈家据以自豪的奇妙花样。
“瞧她的大腿I’’男人中间有一个叫道。
“瞧她的长统袜！”另一个叫道I的确，这双袜子很漂亮，因为丽莎是拣了和衣裳一样鲜艳的颜色，自己也为它们颜色配得恰当而非常得意。
她的舞越跳越欢，双脚常腾空，还疯狂地旋转。
“当心别绷开了！”那些爱开玩笑的人中的一个看见她特别大胆地踢起一条腿时，哇的叫道。
这话刚出口，丽莎猛力举起脚来，一脚踢掉了他的帽子。这一绝招博得了一片彩声。
她继续跳舞，又是旋转，又是扭动，裙子摆弄出各种花样，腿越踢越高，终于在一阵叫嚷声中，双手往地上一撑，来了个出色的侧翻筋斗，再匆促站起，闯进在圈子前排站着的一个小伙子的怀里。
“那才是，丽莎，”他说。“给我亲个嘴，这回，”说着迅快地想去吻她。
“滚开！”丽莎说着，不太客气地将他一把推开了。
“对，给我亲个嘴．”另一个奔上前去，大声说。
“我给你吃耳光！”她灵巧地闪避过他。
“抓住她，比尔．”第三个喊道，“我们大家来亲她个嘴。”
“不，你们休想！”丽莎尖声叫道，一边拔脚就逃。
“大家来，”他们叫着，“抓住她。”
她从他们大腿底下、胳膊底下，竭力闪避，终于摆脱了这批家伙，提起裙子，不让绊脚，拚命沿着小街逃去。有十来个人追赶着，吹着口哨，叫着，喊着。一家家门口的人看得好看，一路上大声呼唤她。她奔得象阵风那么快。
忽然路旁有个人冲到街道中央，扑面挡住了她的去路。她自己也不知道是怎么回事，尖叫着扑倒在他的怀里。而他，捧起她的脸，就在她两面面颊上出声地吻了两下。
“啊，你这——！”她说。她这话实在不宜刊印出来，也没法换上个比较雅致的词儿。
旁观的人和那些在追赶她的人哗然大笑，丽莎抬头看时，只见一个她从没看见过的长大胡子的高大汉子。她面孔红到头发根，迅速从他怀抱里挣脱出来，在众人的嘲笑声中，溜进了就近一所房子里，躲藏了起来。
Chapter 2
Liza and her mother were having supper. Mrs. Kemp was an elderly woman, short, and rather stout, with a red face, and grey hair brushed tight back over her forehead. She had been a widow for many years, and since her husband's death had lived with Liza in the ground-floor front room in which they were now sitting. Her husband had been a soldier, and from a grateful country she received a pension large enough to keep her from starvation, and by charring and doing such odd jobs as she could get she earned a little extra to supply herself with liquor. Liza was able to make her own living by working at a factory.
Mrs. Kemp was rather sulky this evening.
'Wot was yer doin' this afternoon, Liza?' she asked.
'I was in the street.'
'You're always in the street when I want yer.'
'I didn't know as 'ow yer wanted me, mother,' answered Liza.
'Well, yer might 'ave come ter see! I might 'ave been dead, for all you knew.'
Liza said nothing.
'My rheumatics was thet bad to-dy, thet I didn't know wot ter do with myself. The doctor said I was to be rubbed with that stuff 'e give me, but yer won't never do nothin' for me.'
'Well, mother,' said Liza, 'your rheumatics was all right yesterday.'
'I know wot you was doin'; you was showin' off thet new dress of yours. Pretty waste of money thet is, instead of givin' it me ter sive up. An' for the matter of thet, I wanted a new dress far worse than you did. But, of course, I don't matter.'
Liza did not answer, and Mrs. Kemp, having nothing more to say, continued her supper in silence.
It was Liza who spoke next.
'There's some new people moved in the street. 'Ave you seen 'em?' she asked.
'No, wot are they?'
'I dunno; I've seen a chap, a big chap with a beard. I think 'e lives up at the other end.'
She felt herself blushing a little.
'No one any good you be sure,' said Mrs. Kemp. 'I can't swaller these new people as are comin' in; the street ain't wot it was when I fust come.'
When they had done, Mrs. Kemp got up, and having finished her half-pint of beer, said to her daughter:
'Put the things awy, Liza. I'm just goin' round to see Mrs. Clayton; she's just 'ad twins, and she 'ad nine before these come. It's a pity the Lord don't see fit ter tike some on 'em--thet's wot I say.'
After which pious remark Mrs. Kemp went out of the house and turned into another a few doors up.
Liza did not clear the supper things away as she was told, but opened the window and drew her chair to it. She leant on the sill, looking out into the street. The sun had set, and it was twilight, the sky was growing dark, bringing to view the twinkling stars; there was no breeze, but it was pleasantly and restfully cool. The good folk still sat at their doorsteps, talking as before on the same inexhaustible subjects, but a little subdued with the approach of night. The boys were still playing cricket, but they were mostly at the other end of the street, and their shouts were muffled before they reached Liza's ears.
She sat, leaning her head on her hands, breathing in the fresh air and feeling a certain exquisite sense of peacefulness which she was not used to. It was Saturday evening, and she thankfully remembered that there would be no factory on the morrow; she was glad to rest. Somehow she felt a little tired, perhaps it was through the excitement of the afternoon, and she enjoyed the quietness of the evening. It seemed so tranquil and still; the silence filled her with a strange delight, she felt as if she could sit there all through the night looking out into the cool, dark street, and up heavenwards at the stars. She was very happy, but yet at the same time experienced a strange new sensation of melancholy, and she almost wished to cry.
Suddenly a dark form stepped in front of the open window. She gave a little shriek.
''Oo's thet?' she asked, for it was quite dark, and she did not recognize the man standing in front of her.
'Me, Liza,' was the answer.
'Tom?'
'Yus!'
It was a young man with light yellow hair and a little fair moustache, which made him appear almost boyish; he was light-complexioned and blue-eyed, and had a frank and pleasant look mingled with a curious bashfulness that made him blush when people spoke to him.
'Wot's up?' asked Liza.
'Come aht for a walk, Liza, will yer?'
'No!' she answered decisively.
'You promised ter yesterday, Liza.'
'Yesterday an' ter-day's two different things,' was her wise reply.
'Yus, come on, Liza.'
'Na, I tell yer, I won't.'
'I want ter talk ter yer, Liza.' Her hand was resting on the window-sill, and he put his upon it. She quickly drew it back.
'Well, I don't want yer ter talk ter me.'
But she did, for it was she who broke the silence.
'Say, Tom, 'oo are them new folk as 'as come into the street? It's a big chap with a brown beard.'
'D'you mean the bloke as kissed yer this afternoon?'
Liza blushed again.
'Well, why shouldn't 'e kiss me?' she said, with some inconsequence.
'I never said as 'ow 'e shouldn't; I only arst yer if it was the sime.'
'Yea, thet's 'oo I mean.'
''Is nime is Blakeston--Jim Blakeston. I've only spoke to 'im once; he's took the two top rooms at No. 19 'ouse.'
'Wot's 'e want two top rooms for?'
''Im? Oh, 'e's got a big family--five kids. Ain't yer seen 'is wife abaht the street? She's a big, fat woman, as does 'er 'air funny.'
'I didn't know 'e 'ad a wife.'
There was another silence; Liza sat thinking, and Tom stood at the window, looking at her.
'Won't yer come aht with me, Liza?' he asked, at last.
'Na, Tom,' she said, a little more gently, 'it's too lite.'
'Liza,' he said, blushing to the roots of his hair.
'Well?'
'Liza'--he couldn't go on, and stuttered in his shyness--'Liza, I--I--I loves yer, Liza.'
'Garn awy!'
He was quite brave now, and took hold of her hand.
'Yer know, Liza, I'm earnin' twenty-three shillin's at the works now, an' I've got some furniture as mother left me when she was took.'
The girl said nothing.
'Liza, will you 'ave me? I'll make yer a good 'usband, Liza, swop me bob, I will; an' yer know I'm not a drinkin' sort. Liza, will yer marry me?'
'Na, Tom,' she answered quietly.
'Oh, Liza, won't you 'ave me?'
'Na, Tom, I can't.'
'Why not? You've come aht walkin' with me ever since Whitsun.'
'Ah, things is different now.'
'You're not walkin' aht with anybody else, are you, Liza?' he asked quickly.
'Na, not that.'
'Well, why won't yer, Liza? Oh Liza, I do love yer, I've never loved anybody as I love you!'
'Oh, I can't, Tom!'
'There ain't no one else?'
'Na.'
'Then why not?'
'I'm very sorry, Tom, but I don't love yer so as ter marry yer.'
'Oh, Liza!'
She could not see the look upon his face, but she heard the agony in his voice; and, moved with sudden pity, she bent out, threw her arms round his neck, and kissed him on both cheeks.
'Never mind old chap!' she said. 'I'm not worth troublin' abaht.'
And quickly drawing back, she slammed the window to, and moved into the further part of the room.
丽莎和她母亲在吃晚饭。肯普太太是个过了中年的妇人，矮矮的个子，却很结实，脸色红彤彤的。灰白的头发往后梳着，紧贴在额头上。她已经做了好几年的寡妇，自从丈夫死了之后，一直和丽莎住在她们此刻住着的那间沿街的底层屋子里。她的丈夫原是当兵的，幸喜国家给她的抚恤金还够她勉强活命，另外靠打打杂，找些零星活干干，挣几个外快钱，给自己买酒喝。丽莎在厂里做工，能够自己养活自己。
这天晚上肯普太太绷着脸，很不高兴的样子。
“你今天下午在干些什么？”她问。
“我在街上。”
“我要找你，你总是在街上。”
“我不知道你要找我，妈妈，’’丽莎回答。
“嗳，你也好来看看的呀！我或许死了呢，谁说得定。”
丽莎不吭声。
“今天我风湿发得可厉害，简直没有办法。医生说我可以用你给我弄来的那种药水擦擦，可你一点不管我。”
“可是妈妈，’’丽莎说，“你的风湿昨天一点没发，好好的嘛。”
“我知道你干什么去了；你要穿着你那套新衣裳去出风头。钱不交给我放起来，而就是这么乱花。讲到衣服，我才远远比你需要买件新的哪。可是，当然，我是无关紧要的。”
丽莎没有接她的嘴。肯普太太再没有什么话说，就闷声不响，继续吃她的晚饭。
接下来开始说话的倒是丽莎。
“这条街上搬来了一家新的人家。你看到过他们吗？”她同。
“没有；搬来了什么样的人？”
“我不知道；我看见一个家伙，一个长胡子的高大汉子。我想他大概是住在另一头的。”
她觉得自己脸上微微热烘烘的一阵。
“不会是什么好人，你相信我说的，”肯普太太说。“我看不惯这些新来的人；这条街跟我当年刚搬来的时候不一样了。”
她们吃完饭，肯普太太站起身来，喝了她的半品脱的啤酒，然后对女儿说——
“把桌子上的东西收拾开，丽莎。我就在附近去看看克莱顿太太；她刚生了对双胞胎，这两个出世之前，她已经有九个了。我说呀，上帝怎么不收回几个去，真是可怜见。”
肯普太太说完了这句好心话，就走出门去，拐进了隔开几个门口的另一所房子里去。
丽莎并没有照她母亲的吩咐把杯盘收拾开，而且还打开窗户，把她的椅子移到了窗口．。她倚着窗槛，往外望着街上。
太阳已经落山，此刻是黄昏时分。天色渐渐暗了下来，天空中显现出闪烁的星星；虽然没有风，却也凉快而宁静。
那些善良的人们依然坐在门口的石阶上，象刚才一样还是谈论着那些谈不完的老话题，只是随着夜晚的来临，声音稍微压低了一些。男孩子们还是在打板球，但是他们大多数是在小街的另一头，所以他们的叫嚷传到丽莎耳朵里的时候，都不很响亮了。
她坐着，双手撑着头，呼吸着新鲜空气，感到一种她似乎没有感到过的微妙的安谧。这是个星期六的夜晚，她想到明天早晨不用去工厂，心里高兴，她有得休息了。她多少觉得有些疲倦，也许是由于那天下午的喧扰，她玩味着夜晚的安宁。夜是那么清净，那么平静；这沉寂使她充满了异样的喜悦，仿佛觉得最好能整夜地坐在那里，闲望窗外凉爽、黯黑的街道，远眺天上的星星。她非常快活，同时却又感到一种说不出的新的忧郁的激情，几乎要哭出来。
突然一个黑色的人影走到她开着的窗口。她惊叫了一声。
