(单词翻译:单击)
听力文本
The Fall of the House of Usher-Part Two. Roderick Usher, whom I had known as a boy, was now ill and had asked me to come to help him. When I arrived I felt something strange and fearful about the great old stone house, about the lake in front of it, and about Usher himself. He appeared not like a human being, but like a spirit that had come back from beyond the grave. It was an illness, he said, from which he would surely die. He called his sickness fear. "I have," he said, "no fear of pain, but only the fear of its result — of terror. I feel that the time will soon arrive when I must lose my life, and my mind, and my soul, together, in some last battle with that horrible enemy: fear!" I learned also, but slowly, and through broken words with doubtful meaning, another strange fact about the condition of Usher's mind. He had certain sick fears about the house in which he lived, and he had not stepped out of it for many years. He felt that the house, with its gray walls and the quiet lake around it, had somehow through the long years gotten a strong hold on his spirit.
He said, however, that much of the gloom which lay so heavily on him was probably caused by something more plainly to be seen — by the long-continued illness — indeed, the coming death — of a dearly loved sister — his only company for many years. Except for himself, she was the last member of his family on earth. "When she dies," he said, with a sadness which I can never forget, "when she dies, I will be the last of the old, old family — the House of Usher." While he spoke, the lady Madeline (for so she was called) passed slowly through a distant part of the room, and without seeing that I was there, went on. I looked at her with a complete and wondering surprise and with some fear — and yet I found I could not explain to myself such feelings. My eyes followed her. When she came to a door and it closed behind her, my eyes turned to the face of her brother — but he had put his face in his hands, and I could see only that the thin fingers through which his tears were flowing were whiter than ever before. The illness of the lady Madeline had long been beyond the help of her doctors. She seemed to care about nothing. Slowly her body had grown thin and weak, and often for a short period she would fall into a sleep like the sleep of the dead. So far she had not been forced to stay in bed; but by the evening of the day I arrived at the house, the power of her destroyer (as her brother told me that night) was too strong for her. I learned that my one sight of her would probably be the last I would have — that the lady, at least while living, would be seen by me no more.
For several days following, her name was not spoken by either Usher or myself; and during this period I was busy with efforts to lift my friend out of his sadness and gloom. We painted and read together; or listened, as if in a dream, to the wild music he played. And so, as a warmer and more loving friendship grew between us, I saw more clearly the uselessness of all attempts to bring happiness to a mind from which only darkness came, spreading upon all objects in the world its never-ending gloom. I shall always remember the hours I spent with the master of the House of Usher. Yet I would fail in any attempt to give an idea of the true character of the things we did together. There was a strange light over everything. The paintings which he made me tremble, though I know not why. To tell of them is beyond the power of written words. If ever a man painted an idea, that man was Roderick Usher. For me at least there came out of his pictures a sense of fear and wonder.
One of these pictures may be told, although weakly, in words. It showed the inside of a room where the dead might be placed, with low walls, white and plain. It seemed to be very deep under the earth. There was no door, no window; and no light or fire burned; yet a river of light flowed through it, filling it with a horrible, ghastly brightness. I have spoken of that sickly condition of the senses, which made most music painful for Usher to hear. The notes he could listen to with pleasure were very few. It was this fact, perhaps, that made the music he played so different from most music. But the wild beauty of his playing could not be explained. The words of one of his songs, called "The Haunted Palace," I have easily remembered. In it I thought I saw, and for the first time, that Usher knew very well that his mind was weakening. This song told of a great house where a king lived — a palace — in a green valley, where all was light and color and beauty, and the air was sweet. In the palace were two bright windows through which people in that happy valley could hear music and could see smiling ghosts — spirits — moving around the king. The palace door was of the richest materials, in red and white; through it came other spirits whose only duty was to sing in their beautiful voices about how wise their king was. But a dark change came, the song continued, and now those who enter the valley see through the windows, in a red light, shapes that move to broken music; while through the door, now colorless, a ghastly river of ghosts, laughing but no longer smiling, rushes out forever.
Our talk of this song led to another strange idea in Usher's mind. He believed that plants could feel and think, and not only plants, but rocks and water as well. He believed that the gray stones of his house, and the small plants growing on the stones, and the decaying trees, had a power over him that made him what he was. Our books — the books which, for years, had fed the sick man's mind — were, as might be supposed, of this same wild character. Some of these books Usher sat and studied for hours. His chief delight was found in reading one very old book, written for some forgotten church, telling of the Watch over the Dead. At last, one evening he told me that the lady Madeline was alive no more. He said he was going to keep her body for a time in one of the many vaults inside the walls of the building. The worldly reason he gave for this was one with which I felt I had to agree. He had decided to do this because of the nature of her illness, because of the strange interest and questions of her doctors, and because of the great distance to the graveyard where members of his family were placed in the earth.
We two carried her body to its resting place. The vault in which we placed it was small and dark, and in ages past it must have seen strange and bloody scenes. It lay deep below that part of the building where I myself slept. The thick door was of iron, and because of its great weight made a loud, hard sound when it was opened and closed. As we placed the lady Madeline in this room of horror I saw for the first time the great likeness between brother and sister, and Usher told me then that they were twins — they had been born on the same day. For that reason the understanding between them had always been great, and the tie that held them together very strong. We looked down at the dead face one last time, and I was filled with wonder. As she lay there, the lady Madeline looked not dead but asleep — still soft and warm — though to the touch cold as the stones around us.
重点解析
1.except for 除了；除...之外
Everyone was late, except for Richard.
除了理查德，其他所有人都迟到了。
2.fall into 陷于；变成
These books fall into several categories.
这些书可分成几类。
3.because of 因为；由于
It is mainly because of my fault.
这主要是由于我的过错。
4.look down 向下看；看下面
He put his hand on the post behind her so that he had her fenced in and could look down on her.
他把手放在她身后的柱子上，这样就把她围在当中，可以低头看她了。
参考译文
厄舍古屋的倒塌——第二部分。我儿时的伙伴罗德里克·厄舍，患了重病，请我来帮助他。当我到达时，我对这座古老的大石屋、屋前的湖和厄舍本人感到有些奇怪和恐惧。他看起来不像一个人，而是像一个从坟墓中回来的灵魂。他说，他肯定会死于这种疾病。他把他患的病叫做恐惧。“我并不害怕痛苦”，他说，“只害怕痛苦的结果——恐惧。我觉得自己的时限马上就到了，在与那个可怕的敌人“恐惧”，决一死战之时，我将死去，而我的思想和灵魂也将消失殆尽。”我还从他断断续续又意义含糊的话语中，慢慢了解到他精神上的另一件怪状。他对住的这所房子有某种病态的恐惧，多年来他一直没有走出过这所房子。他觉得这座房子，连同灰色的墙壁和环绕它的那个宁静的湖泊，不知怎么地一直影响着他的精神状态。
然而，他说如此折磨他的忧郁感，很可能是由于某个更明显的原因，那就是，他心爱的妹妹一直重病缠身——其实眼下她就要死了。多年来，妹妹就是他唯一的伴，是他在这世上仅有的最后一个亲人。“她一死，”他说，“厄舍家族就只剩下我一个人了”。他说话的时候，马德琳小姐（别人就这么叫她）远远地从房间走过，步子慢悠悠的，她根本没注意到我，转眼间就走开了。看见她，我心里吃惊得紧，还混杂着恐惧的感觉。我发现，要想说清个中原因，是不可能的。我的目光追随着她远去的身影。当门在她身后关上时，我转眼去看她的哥哥，但他早用双手捂住脸，只能看到那瘦骨嶙峋的手指间，热泪滚滚而下。玛德琳小姐的病，早令她的那些医生黔驴技穷了。她似乎什么都不关心，身子一天天瘦损，而且常常陷入像死人一样短暂的睡眠状态。她还没有倒卧病榻，可就在我到他们家的那个晚上，她却向死神的威力俯下头颅。噩耗是她哥哥晚上告诉我的，我这才知道，那惊鸿一瞥，竟成了永诀。我再也看不到活着的玛德琳小姐了。
在接下来的几天里，我和厄舍都决口不提她的名字。那段时间，我忙于帮助朋友摆脱哀愁。我们一起画画，一起读书，或者我听他弹奏狂野的音乐，恍若身在梦中。于是，我们愈来愈亲密了。越是亲密，我越清楚地察觉到，所有想博取他高兴的努力，都是枉费心机。他心底的哀愁永不停歇的发散出来，笼罩一切，整个世界都是一片灰暗。我和厄舍府的主人共度了不少时光，这将成为我一生的记忆。但要让我说出我们在一起究竟都做了什么，我还真说不出个子丑寅卯来。一切都笼罩着一层奇怪的光芒。他的画作让我看到后就周身战栗，尽管我都不知道为什么会这样。我无法用文字形象地描摹出来。如果世间有谁的画自有真意，那人只能是罗德里克·厄舍。至少对我来说，凝视他的画作，心里会生出恐惧和惊讶。
其中有一副画可以诉诸文字，尽管可能诠释不到位。画中展现了一个房间的内景，低矮的白墙，没有花纹，死者可能被安置在这里。这个房间深深地潜在地下，没有房门、没有窗子、没有灯光，也没有火。然而，一条光线却浪浪淘淘，四下翻滚，使整个画面沐浴在一片可怖的光辉之中。我上文已经提及他听觉神经的病态感，大多数音乐都会让他受不了。很少有音符能让他听后感到愉悦。也许正是这个原因，才使他弹奏的音乐与大多数音乐全然不同。但他那激昂的演奏却不能归结于次。一首歌叫《鬼屋》，我很容易就记住了它的歌词。我想我在这首歌中第一次看出，厄舍完全明白他的理性在不断削弱。这首歌描画了一位国王居住的大房子，这是一座宫殿，建在绿色的山谷之中，那里阳光明媚，色彩缤纷、美丽至极，空气中充满着甜蜜的味道。宫殿里有两扇明亮的窗户，透过窗户，欢乐谷里的人们可以听到音乐，看到微笑着的幽灵在国王身边漂移。宫殿的门是用最昂贵的材料制成的，红白相间。其他幽灵从门中穿过，他们唯一的任务就是用美妙的声音高唱国王的英明不凡。但是，黑暗降临，这首歌继续唱着。现在，进入山谷的那些人透过窗户，在红光中，伴着断续的音乐晃动；而透过无色的门，一条可怕的幽灵河，不再是微笑而是大笑着奔涌而出，直到永远。
我们对这首歌的谈论，可以引出厄舍另一个奇怪的想法。他相信植物都有灵性，不仅是植物，岩石和水也有。他相信家里灰色的石块，石头上生长的小植物和腐烂的树木，都有能力控制他，使他变成现在的样子。我们看的书，多年来，这样的书籍对病人的精神状态起到了不小的影响。有一些书，厄舍坐下来研读数小时，他最爱读的，是一本非常古老的书，这本书为被人遗忘的教堂所著，讲述的是为死者守灵。一个晚上，他告诉我马德琳小姐去世了。他说要把妹妹的尸体在府邸内的一间地窖里上存放一段时间。他选了这种做法，自有其世俗的理由，对此我不便随意质疑。他这样做是因为妹妹那非同寻常的病，想到医生冒失而殷切地探问，再想想祖坟偏远，所以他才做出这样的决定。
我们俩把她的尸体抬到安放它的地窖，地窖狭小又黑暗，在过去的岁月里，它一定见证过离奇的血腥场面。它在很深的地下，上面恰好就是我的卧室所在地。地窖厚重的门是铁制的，因为它非常沉重，开合之际都会发出很大的声响。我俩把玛德琳小姐的尸体放在这个恐怖的地窖里时，我第一次注意到兄妹二人的容貌惊人的相似。厄舍告诉我，他们是双胞胎，是在同一天出生。因为这个原因，他们之间总是息息相通，把他们联系在一起的纽带也非常牢固。我们最后一次俯视死者的面容，我心中充满惊奇。玛德琳小姐躺在那儿时，看上去并没有过世，只是像睡着了似的，似乎仍然柔软而温暖，但摸上去时却如同我们周围的石头一样冷冰。
