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王尔德《自深深处》里小本描述的场景

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On November 13th 1895 I was brought down here from London. From two o'clock till half-past two on that day I had to stand on the centre platform of Clapham Junction in convict dress and handcuffed, for the world to look at. I had been taken out of the Hospital Ward without a moment’s notice being given to me. Of all possible objects I was the most grotesque. When people saw me they laughed. Each train as it came up swelled the audience. Nothing could exceed their amusement. That was of course before they knew who I was. As soon as they had been informed, they laughed still more. For half an hour I stood there in the grey November rain surrounded by a jeering mob[135d]. For a year after that was done to me I wept every day at the same hour and for the same space of time. That is not such a tragic thing as possibly it sounds to you. To those who are in prison, tears are a part of every day’s experience. A day in prison on which one does not weep is a day on which one’s heart is ...

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On November 13th 1895 I was brought down here from London. From two o'clock till half-past two on that day I had to stand on the centre platform of Clapham Junction in convict dress and handcuffed, for the world to look at. I had been taken out of the Hospital Ward without a moment’s notice being given to me. Of all possible objects I was the most grotesque. When people saw me they laughed. Each train as it came up swelled the audience. Nothing could exceed their amusement. That was of course before they knew who I was. As soon as they had been informed, they laughed still more. For half an hour I stood there in the grey November rain surrounded by a jeering mob[135d]. For a year after that was done to me I wept every day at the same hour and for the same space of time. That is not such a tragic thing as possibly it sounds to you. To those who are in prison, tears are a part of every day’s experience. A day in prison on which one does not weep is a day on which one’s heart is hard, not a day on which one’s heart is happy. 1 8 9 5年1 1月1 3日,我从伦敦被带到这里。那天从两点到两点半,我得站在克列珀汉转换站的中央站台上,穿着囚衣戴着手铐,让天下人观看。一点也没预先通知,就把我从医院病房带出来。天上人间,那时就数我最丑最怪。人们看到我就笑。每来一班火车就增加一层观众。没什么比这更能逗他们乐了。这当然是在他们知道我是谁之前。等知道了之后,他们笑得更厉害了。我就这么半个小时地站在那里,冒着十一月的冷雨,面对一团讥笑连连的匹夫匹妇。在那次遭遇后的一年里,每天到了那个钟点,我都要哭,哭上同样长的那么一段时间。这事你听着也许不觉得有那么悲伤。对那些监狱中人,眼泪是每日必备的经历。在牢里,要有谁哪一天不哭,那是他的心硬了,而不是他的心喜了。

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