《雙城記》是英國作家查爾斯·狄更斯所著的一部以法國大革命為背景所寫成的長篇?dú)v史小說，情節(jié)感人肺腑，是世界文學(xué)經(jīng)典名著之一，故事中將巴黎、倫敦兩個(gè)大城市連結(jié)起來，圍繞著曼馬內(nèi)特醫(yī)生一家和以德法日夫婦為首的圣安東尼區(qū)展開故事。小說里描寫了貴族如何敗壞、如何殘害百姓，人民心中積壓對(duì)貴族的刻骨仇恨，導(dǎo)致了不可避免的法國大革命。下面小編為大家?guī)怼峨p城記》經(jīng)典英文段落，歡迎大家閱讀!

《雙城記》經(jīng)典英文段落1：

A WONDERFUL FACT to reflect upon, that every human creature isconstituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. Asolemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that everyone of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; thatevery room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that everybeating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, insome of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it! Something ofthe awfulness, even of Death itself, is referable to this. No more canI turn the leaves of this dear book that I loved, and vainly hope intime to read it all. No more can I look into the depths of thisunfathomable water, wherein, as momentary lights glanced into it, Ihave had glimpses of buried treasure and other things submerged. Itwas appointed that the book should shut with a spring, for ever andfor ever, when I had read but a page. It was appointed that thewater should be locked in an eternal frost, when the light was playingon its surface, and I stood in ignorance on the shore. My friend isdead, my neighbour is dead, my love, the darling of my soul, isdead; it is the inexorable consolidation and perpetuation of thesecret that was always in that individuality, and which I shallcarry in mine to my life&39;s end. In any of the burial-places of thiscity through which I pass, is there a sleeper more inscrutable thanits busy inhabitants are, in their innermost personality, to me, orthan I am to them?

As to this, his natural and not to be alienated inheritance, themessenger on horseback had exactly the same possessions as the King,the first Minister of State, or the richest merchant in London. Sowith the three passengers shut up in the narrow compass of onelumbering old mail coach; they were mysteries to one another, ascomplete as if each had been in his own coach and six, or his owncoach and sixty, with the breadth of a county between him and thenext.

《雙城記》經(jīng)典英文段落2：

His message perplexed his mind to that degree that he was fain,several times, to take off his hat to scratch his head. Except onthe crown, which was raggedly bald, he had stiff, black hair, standingjaggedly all over it, and growing down hill almost to his broad, bluntnose. It was so like Smith&39;s work, so much more like the top of astrongly spiked wall than a head of hair, that the best of playersat leap-frog might have declined him, as the most dangerous man in theworld to go over.

While he trotted back with the message he was to deliver to thenight watchman in his box at the door of Tellson&39;s Bank, by TempleBar, who was to deliver it to greater authorities within, theshadows of the night took such shapes to him as arose out of themessage, and took such shapes to the mare as arose out of herprivate topics of uneasiness. They seemed to be numerous, for sheshied at every shadow on the road.

What time, the mail-coach lumbered, jolted, rattled, and bumped uponits tedious way, with its three fellow-inscrutables inside. To whom,likewise, the shadows of the night revealed themselves, in the formstheir dozing eyes and wandering thoughts suggested.

《雙城記》經(jīng)典英文段落3：

Tellson&39;s Bank had a run upon it in the mail. As the bank passenger-with an arm drawn through the leathern strap, which did what lay in itto keep him from pounding against the next passenger, and drivinghim into his corner, whenever the coach got a special jolt- nodded inhis place, with half-shut eyes, the little coach-windows, and thecoach-lamp dimly gleaming through them, and the bulky bundle ofopposite passenger, became the bank, and did a great stroke ofbusiness. The rattle of the harness was the chink of money, and moredrafts were honoured in five minutes than even Tellson&39;s with allits foreign and home connection, ever paid in thrice the time. Thenthe strong-rooms underground, at Tellson&39;s, with such of theirvaluable stores and secrets as were known to the passenger (and it wasnot a little that he knew about them), opened before him, and hewent in among them with the great keys and the feebly-burningcandle, and found them safe, and strong, and sound, and still, just ashe had last seen them.

But, though the bank was almost always with him, and though thecoach (in a confused way, like the presence of pain under an opiate)was always with him, there was another current of impression thatnever ceased to run, all through the night. He was on his way to digsome one out of a grave.

 

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