May 4th 1948

I quite often look back at the pleasures and pains of youth—love， jealousy， recklessness， vanity—without forgetting their 1)spell but no longer desiring them. While middle-aged ones like music， places， botany， conversation seem to be just as enjoyable as those wilder ones， in which there was usually some potential anguish lying in wait， like a bee in a flower. I hope there may be further surprises 2)in store， and on the whole do not fear the advance into age…

May 5th 1948

Ralph went to the dentist. I have sprained my ankle so can’t go with him but as the years pass I hate being parted from him even for an hour or so. I feel only half a person by myself， with one arm， one leg and half a face.

Warmer， softer， sweeter day: the birds sing very loudly and the 3)pollarded trees on the road to 4)Hungerford station seem to be holding little bunches of 5)greenery in their 6)fists.

November 28th 1960

Last night before dinner I missed Ralph for a while. For the thousandth time I wondered， “Is he all right? Could he perhaps be feeling ill?” Usually after the first panic and wild 7)wobblings on my base， my 8)equilibrium has been restored. This time， however， I felt it was odd that he should be in the library at this cold evening hour. I ran upstairs and found him lying down. No， he was not all right. Going through the kitchen to look at the stove， he had suddenly felt a constriction in the chest. He took a pill and then another， but remained limp and drowsy， wanting no food and unable to face the company. I am， in a 9)spurious way， so armoured against these 10)set-backs that a dreadful 11)unearthly calm settled down on me， partly to make me able to face his dread of my “fussing”. But along with this grey 12)tristesse was the awareness of a huge 13)crater opening， black and menacing. Paralysed in mind and hardly able to talk， I went downstairs and cooked dinner and somehow sketched in a part in the conversation until the meal was over， when I was able to go up and lie beside Ralph.

This moring he swears he is better， but is in no great hurry to get up. We must “greet the unknown” with all possible commonsense， but I am full of doubts which I can’t voice to him.

November 29th 1960

Throughout yesterday I sank slowly into the 14)pit， as it became gradually clear to me that “something or other” did happen in the stove-room

on Sunday night. Ralph was 15)comatose and fighting a desperate 16)rearguard action against admitting himself ill. He becomes furious (frighteningly so， because it is bad for him) if I treat him as such， and I identify myself so completely with him that the difficulty of overriding the line he decided to take was almost 17)unsuperable…

November 30th 1960

But last night was much worse than my fears. I dropped into exhuasted sleep. But soon awoke and listened to Ralph’s struggling breathing for four hours， while the clock snailed round its course. But why describe such agony? We are both alive this morning—that’s all I can say.

Morning calls to Red-beard and Geoff， but I have 18)antagonised him， I see. There is something so 19)futile about him， and I couldn’t bear the snobbish reluctance he showed to get into touch with the 20)cardiologist who unfortunately happens to be a lord. Yet to some extent we depend on him， and I try to 21)choke back my horror that this little 22)mannikin should be relevant to the health and safety of my darling Ralph. I 23)pressed on， screaming silently from every 24)cranny of my brain， until I got him to arrange for the lordly cardiologist to come tomorrow. Geoff seemed to take things more seriously when I described Ralph’s breathing. It seems that he took tow sleeping pills while I dozed last night， one seeming insufficient， and Geoff thought this might have affected his breathing. He has recommended a new sort for tonight. I dashed in to Hungerford to get them. Not availabe. I have ordered them to be brought out by taxi from 25)Newbury， and we have got them now.

Ralph does seem a little better this evening and with more appetite for his supper. He even read more. I went downstairs while he was eating， and listened to

26)Berlioz’s Symphonjie Fantastique on the wirelss without much pleasure. I left Ralph a walking-stick to 27)bang on the floor if he wanted me—I never expected to hear， nor shall I ever forget that dreadful “thump， thump， thump”.

December 1st 1960

Now I am absolutely alone and for ever.

1948年5月4日

我常?；厥啄贻p時的歡樂和苦楚——愛、妒忌、魯莽、自大——至今我仍沒忘記其魔力，但已不再渴慕這些。中年人喜歡聊音樂、房子、園藝，那份盎然興致不亞于聊起輕狂話題時，但總感覺有種莫名苦惱在蟄伏暗涌，如蜜蜂藏身花叢伺機而動。我希望將來能有更多的驚喜，總之，我希望不再懼怕日漸年老。

1948年5月5日

拉爾夫要去看牙醫(yī)。我扭傷了腳，所以沒法陪他去。但是隨著歲月流逝，我越來越不想與他分開，哪怕只是一個小時左右的時間。他不在身邊，我就會覺得自己像缺了半邊身子，只有一只胳膊、一條腿、半張臉。

今天暖和舒適了些，讓人的心情也更加愉快：鳥兒高聲歌唱，通往亨格福德火車站的馬路兩邊，樹木都被修剪過，看上去樹冠似乎只剩下那么一小撮的翠綠。

1960年11月28日

昨晚晚餐前，好一會兒都見不著拉爾夫?！八€好吧？他不會是覺得哪里不舒服吧？”這樣都想了一千遍了。通常我會在原地恐慌顫抖一陣子，然后漸漸平靜下來。然而這次，都晚上這個時間了，天又冷，他不應該還在書房里呀！我沖上樓發(fā)現(xiàn)他躺在地上。不，他情況很不好。之前，他穿過廚房去看看爐子，突然覺得胸口一緊。他吃了一片藥，然后再吃一片，還是覺得渾身無力，昏昏欲睡，食欲不振，而且難以忍受周圍有人。這一次，我的心反常地死一般鎮(zhèn)靜，自欺欺人地抗拒拉爾夫病情惡化的事實，他怕我“小題大做”，我的故作鎮(zhèn)定也能讓自己好好處理這個問題。但是這件憂傷的事情讓人不禁想到敞開的巨大墓穴，陰森而恐怖。我驚恐得幾乎不能思考，不能說話了，我下樓去煮晚餐，不知怎的，我一直在想自己個這角色要說些什么，吃完飯才沒再想，然后上樓去，在拉爾夫身旁躺下。

這天早晨，他發(fā)誓說他覺得好多了，但是不急著起床。我們必須用所可能擁有的全部常識來“迎接未知”，但是我對此充滿懷疑，卻不能告訴他。

1960年11月29日

昨天一整天，我慢慢陷入深淵中，因為我越來越清楚，那個星期天晚上他暈倒在暖爐房時，身體肯定出了“這樣或那樣的問題”?，F(xiàn)在，拉爾夫精神萎靡不振，但仍然死活不肯承認自己病了。如果我像對待一個病人那樣對待他，他會大動肝火（很怕他這樣，因為生氣有損他的健康），而我完全認同，要他下決心跨越這條心理防線很困難，幾乎是不能實現(xiàn)的……

1960年11月30日

然而，昨天晚上他的情況比我害怕的還要糟糕。我身心疲憊地沉沉睡去，但是一會兒又驚醒了，我聽著拉爾夫艱難地呼吸，聽了四個小時，覺得時鐘的指針慢得像蝸牛一樣。但是為什么要記下此般痛苦呢？畢竟我們一同活過了這天早晨——我只能這么說了。

一大早我叫紅胡子和杰夫一起過來，我覺得我自己很反感紅胡子。他人品有些問題，我讓他與碰巧是貴族的心臟專家聯(lián)系，他卻輕蔑地表示自己不愿意，我真受不了他。但是在某種程度上，我們依賴他的幫助，而一想到這個小矮人與我親愛的拉爾夫的健康和生命息息相關，我就覺得恐慌。我努力壓抑著內心的恐慌，繼續(xù)勸說，整個腦子都在無聲地狂叫著，直到我終于說服他，讓他安排這個貴族心臟專家明天到我家來。當我向杰夫描述拉爾夫的呼吸狀況時，他似乎更加認真對待。昨晚拉爾夫似乎在我打瞌睡的時候吃了兩片安眠藥，一片顯然藥力不夠，所以杰夫認為可能這些安眠藥影響了他的呼吸。他建議拉爾夫今晚吃另外一種藥。我趕緊到亨格福德去買，但是買不到。我已讓人立即乘出租車從鈕布利拿藥來，而現(xiàn)在藥已經(jīng)到我們手上了。

今晚拉爾夫看上去確實好了些，晚飯時胃口也好了點。他甚至多讀了一會兒書。我下樓的時候，他正在一邊吃飯，一邊無甚樂趣地聽著收音機里播放的柏遼茲的名曲《幻想交響曲》。我走開時給了拉爾夫一根拐杖，讓他在需要我時敲敲地板——我不希望聽到那恐怖的“咚咚咚”聲，卻最終永遠忘不了那響聲。

1960年12月1日

現(xiàn)在只剩下我一人，孤獨終老。