送行

Seeing People Off

by Max Beerbohm

 

 

I am not good at it. To do it well seems to me one of the most difficult things in the world， and probably seems so to you， too.

To see a friend off from Waterloo to Vauxhall were easy enough. But we are never called on to perform that small feat. It is only when a friend is going on a longish journey， and will be absent for a longish time， that we turn up at the railway station. The dearer the friend， and the longer the journey， and the longer the likely absence， the earlier do we turn up， and the more lamentably do we fail. Our failure is in exact ratio to the seriousness of the occasion， and to the depth of our feeling.

In a room or even on a door step， we can make the farewell quite worthily. We can express in our faces the genuine sorrow we feel. Nor do words fail us. There is no awkwardness， no restraint on either side. The thread of our intimacy has not been snapped. The leave-taking is an ideal one. Why not， then leave the leave-taking at that？ Always， departing friends implore us not to bother to come to the railway station next morning. Always， we are deaf to these entreaties， knowing them to be not quite sincere. The departing friends would think it very odd of us if we took them at their word. Besides， they really do want to see us again. And that wish is heartily reciprocated. We duly turn up. And then， oh then， what a gulf yawns！ We stretch our arms vainly across it. We have utterly lost touch. We have nothing at all to say. We gaze at each other as dumb animals gaze at human beings. We make conversation -- and such conversation！ We know that these friends are the friends from whom we parted overnight. They know that we have not altered. Yet， on the surface， everything is different； and the tension is such that we only long for the guard to blow his whistle and put an end to the farce.

On a cold grey morning of last week I duly turned up at Euston， to see off an old friend who was starting for America. Overnight， we had given him a farewell dinner， in which sadness was well mingled with festivity. Years probably would elapse before his return. Some of us might never see him again. Not ignoring the shadow of the future， we gaily celebrated the past. We were as thankful to have known our guest as we were grieved to lose him； and both these emotions were made manifest. It was a perfect farewell.

And now， here we were， stiff and self-conscious on the platform； and framed in the window of the railway-carriage was the face of our friend； but it was as the face of a stranger -- a stranger anxious to please， an appealing stranger， an awkward stranger. `Have you got everything？' asked one of us， breaking a silence. `Yes， everything，' said our friend， with a pleasant nod. `Everything，' he repeated， with the emphasis of an empty brain. `You'll be able to lunch on the train，' said I， though the prophecy had already been made more than once. `Oh， yes，' he said with conviction. He added that the train went straight through to Liverpool. This fact seemed to strike us as rather odd， We exchanged glances. `Doesn't it stop at Crewe？' asked one of us. `No'， said our friend， briefly. He seemed almost disagreeable. There was a long pause. One of us， with a nod and a forced smile at the traveller， said `Well！' The nod， the smile and the unmeaning monosyllable were returned conscientiously. Another pause was broken by one of us with a fit of coughing. It was an obviously assumed fit， but it served to pass the time. The bustle of the platform was unabated. There was no sign of the train's departure. Release--ours， and our friend's， -- was not yet.

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My wandering eye alighted on a rather portly middle-aged man who was talking earnestly from the platform to a young lady at the next window but one to ours. His fine profile was vaguely familiar to me. The young lady was evidently American， and he was evidently English； otherwise I should have guessed from his impressive air that he was her father. I wished I could hear what he was saying. I was sure he was giving the very best advice； and the strong tenderness of his gaze was really beautiful. He seemed magnetic， as he poured out his final injunctions. I could feel something of his magnetism even where I stood. And the magnetism like the profile， was vaguely familiar to me. Where had I experienced it？

In a flash I remembered. The man was Hubert Le Ros. But how changed since last I saw him！ That was seven or eight years ago， in the Strand. He was then as usual out of an engagement， and borrowed half a crown. It seemed a privilege to lend anything to him. He was always magnetic. And why his magnetism had never made him successful on the London stage was always a mystery to me. He was an excellent actor， and a man of sober habit. But， like many others of his kind， Hubert Le Ros （I do not， of course， give the actual name by which he was known） drifted speedily away into the provinces； and I， like every one else， ceased to remember him.

It was strange to see him， after all these years， here on the platform of Euston， looking so prosperous and solid. It was not only the flesh that he had put on， but also the clothes， that made him hard to recognize. In the old days， an imitation fur coat had seemed to be as integral a part of him as were his ill-shorn lantern jaws. But now his costume was a model of rich and somber moderation， drawing， not calling attention to itself. He looked like a banker. Any one would have been proud to be seen off by him.

`Stand back， please！' The train was about to start， and I waved farewell to my friend. Le Ros did not stand back. He stood clasping in both hands the hands of the young American. `Stand back， sir， please！' He obeyed， but quickly darted forward again to whisper some final word. I think there were tears in her eyes. There certainly were tears in his when， at length， having watched the train out of sight， he turned round. He seemed， nevertheless， delighted to see me. He asked me where I had been hiding all these years； and simultaneously repaid me the half-crown as though it had been borrowed yesterday. He linked his arm in mine， and walked with me slowly along the platform， saying with what pleasure he read my dramatic criticisms every Saturday.

I told him， in return， how much he was missed on the stage. `Ah， yes，' he said， `I never act on the stage nowadays.' He laid some emphasis on the `stage'， and I asked him where， then， he did act. `On the platform，' he answered. `You mean，' said I， `that you recite at concerts？' He smiled. `This，' he whispered， striking his stick on the ground， `is the platform I mean.' Had his mysterious prosperity unhinged　him？ He looked quite sane. I begged him to be more explicit.

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`I suppose，' he said presently， giving me a light for the cigar which he had offered me， `you have been seeing a friend off？' I assented. He asked me what I supposed he had been doing. I said that I had watched him doing the same thing. `No，' he said gravely. `That lady was not a friend of mine. I met her for the first time this morning， less than half an hour ago， here'， and again he struck the platform with his stick.

I confessed that I was bewildered. He smiled. `You may，' he said， `have heard of the Anglo-American Social Bureau？' I had not. He explained to me that of the thousands of Americans who annually pass through England there are many hundreds who have no English friends. In the old days they used to bring letters of introduction. But the English are so inhospitable that these letters are hardly worth the paper they are written on. `Thus，' said Le Ros， `The A.A.S.B. supplies a long-felt want. Americans are a sociable people， and most of them have plenty of money to spend. The A.A.S.B. supplies them with English friends. Fifty per cent of the fees is paid over to the friends. The other fifty is retained by the A.A.S. B. I am not， alas！ a director. If I were， I should be a very rich man indeed. I am only an employee. But even so I do very well. I am one of the seers-off.'

Again I asked for enlightenment. `Many Americans，' he said， `cannot afford to keep friends in England. But they can all afford to be seen off. the fee is only five pounds. （twenty-five dollars） for a single traveller； and eight pounds （forty dollars） for a party of two or more. They send that in to the Bureau， giving the date of their departure and a description by which the seer-off can identify them on the platform. And then--well， then they are seen off.'

`But is it worth？' I exclaimed. `Of course it is worth it，' said Le Ros. `It prevents them from feeling "out of it." It earns them the respect of the guard. It saves them from being despised by their fellow-passengers -- the people who are going to be on the boat. It gives them a footing for the whole voyage. Besides， it is a great pleasure in itself. You saw me seeing that young lady off. Didn't you think I did it beautifully？' `Beautifully，' I admitted. `I envied you. There was I --' `Yes， I can imagine. There were you， shuffling from head to foot， staring blankly at your friend， trying to make conversation. I know. That's how I used to be myself， before I studied， and went into the thing professionally. I don't say I'm perfect yet. I'm still a martyr to platform fright. A railway station is the most difficult of all places to act in， as you have discovered for yourself.' `But，' I said with resentment， `I wasn't trying to act. I really felt！' `So did I， my boy，' said Le Ros， `You can't act without feeling. What's - his - name， the Frenchman -- Diderot， yes -- said you could； but what did he know about it Didn't you see those tears in my eyes when the train started？ I hadn't forced them. I tell you I was moved. So were you， I dare say. But you couldn't have pumped up a tear to prove it. You can't express your feelings. In other words， you can't act. At any rate，' he added kindly， `not in a railway station.' `Teach me！' I cried. He looked thoughtfully at me. `Well，' he said at length， `the seeing-off season is practically over. Yes， I'll give you a course. I have a good many pupils on hand already； but yes，' he said， consulting an ornate notebook， `I could give you an hour on Tuesdays and Fridays.'

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His terms， I confess， are rather high. But I don't grudge the investment.

 

 

 

送行

麥克斯·畢爾勃姆

 

我不會(huì)送行。它可是我所認(rèn)為的世上最難做好的事情之一。對(duì)此，你大概也心有同感。

送一位朋友從滑鐵盧去渥克斯廳可以說(shuō)是一件相當(dāng)簡(jiǎn)單的事。但你從來(lái)就接不到這種輕松活兒。我們只有當(dāng)朋友要遠(yuǎn)行，離去的時(shí)間又比較長(zhǎng)久時(shí)，才被召喚親赴車(chē)站送行。朋友交情越好，送的路程越遠(yuǎn)，朋友離去的時(shí)間越長(zhǎng)，我們就越早到達(dá)車(chē)站，相應(yīng)地，我們?cè)庥龅氖∫簿驮綖閼K烈。這種失敗的程度恰恰與場(chǎng)合的正式以及感情的深厚程度成正比。

屋內(nèi)話(huà)別已十分體面，甚至在門(mén)前臺(tái)階也不錯(cuò)。我們臉上的表情書(shū)寫(xiě)著真切的憂(yōu)傷，言語(yǔ)里透出戀戀不舍之情，主客雙方不覺(jué)尷尬或拘謹(jǐn)，親密友誼更是絲毫無(wú)損。如此的送別真可謂完美。可我們?cè)趺淳筒欢搅诉@種程度就應(yīng)該罷休呢?通常情況下，即將遠(yuǎn)行的友人們總是懇求我們次日早晨不要再趕到車(chē)站。但我們知道那不一定是真心話(huà)，便也就不聽(tīng)信那些勸說(shuō)的話(huà)，還是奔向車(chē)站。假若真的聽(tīng)信了朋友們的話(huà)，并且照著做了，他們說(shuō)不定心里還會(huì)責(zé)怪呢。何況，他們也確實(shí)希望能和我們?cè)僖?jiàn)上一面。于是我們也就按時(shí)到達(dá)，真誠(chéng)地去回應(yīng)朋友的愿望。但結(jié)果卻，結(jié)果卻，陡然生出一道鴻溝！我們伸手，可怎么也無(wú)法超越，誰(shuí)也夠不著誰(shuí)。我們啞口無(wú)言，像愚笨的動(dòng)物癡望人類(lèi)一樣面面相覷。我們“找些話(huà)題來(lái)說(shuō)”——但哪里有什么話(huà)好說(shuō)的！大家都心知肚明，離別之景昨夜就已上演了一遍。人還是昨晚的那些人，但從表面上看，所有的又都變了。氣氛是如此緊張，我們都盼望著列車(chē)員趕緊鳴笛，及早結(jié)束這場(chǎng)鬧劇。

上周一個(gè)冷清陰沉的早晨，我準(zhǔn)點(diǎn)趕到奧斯頓送一位去美國(guó)的朋友。

頭一天晚上，我們已經(jīng)擺設(shè)筵席為他餞行，席間分手的離情和聚會(huì)的喜慶掌握得恰到好處。他這一去可能就是多年，席上有些人恐怕今世也難得再見(jiàn)他面。雖然說(shuō)不上完全不受未來(lái)所投下的陰影的影響，可我們還是興高采烈，暢敘了往日情誼。我們既為認(rèn)識(shí)這位朋友而感謝命運(yùn)，同時(shí)又因他的行將離別而遺憾不已。此兩種情懷欣然體現(xiàn)，昨晚的離別真是完美！

可現(xiàn)在呢，我們?cè)谡九_(tái)上，行為僵硬，極不自然，友人的面孔嵌在車(chē)廂窗框中，卻宛然屬于一個(gè)陌生人——一個(gè)急于討人歡心的陌生人，一個(gè)情意真切但卻又舉止笨拙的陌生人。“東西都帶齊了吧?”送行的人中有一個(gè)打破了沉默。“對(duì)，都帶齊了。”我們的朋友愉快地點(diǎn)了點(diǎn)頭，答道。“都齊了。”緊接著的這再次重復(fù)更加明顯地暴露出此刻他頭腦的空空如也。“那你得在火車(chē)上吃午飯了，”我說(shuō)道，盡管這個(gè)預(yù)言遠(yuǎn)非是第一次被提出。“啊，是的。”他用確定的語(yǔ)氣回答，然后又告訴大家，列車(chē)將中途不停直達(dá)利物浦。這句新加上的話(huà)似乎就帶來(lái)了驚訝。我們彼此對(duì)視。“在克魯也不停嗎?”一個(gè)人問(wèn)道。“不停。”朋友回答得簡(jiǎn)短，甚至都有些不悅了。較長(zhǎng)一陣時(shí)間的停頓過(guò)后，有個(gè)人對(duì)我們的朋友回了句“行”，與此同時(shí)還點(diǎn)著頭，做強(qiáng)顏歡笑狀。于是，車(chē)外每個(gè)人那般點(diǎn)頭，吐出那個(gè)莫名其妙的單音詞“行”，以表謝意。沉默再次接踵而至，多虧我們中的一位干咳了幾聲打破這沉悶的寂靜——那咳嗽當(dāng)然是假裝出來(lái)的，但它們卻恰到好處地拖延了時(shí)間。列車(chē)似乎沒(méi)有立即出發(fā)的跡象，站臺(tái)上還是亂哄哄的。關(guān)于解除送別緊張的氣氛——無(wú)論于送客的，還是于被送的——這個(gè)時(shí)刻還沒(méi)有到來(lái)。

我的目光四處游弋，移到一個(gè)中年人身上的時(shí)候眼前突然一亮，他體格頗為健壯，站在站臺(tái)上，正同我們旁邊第三個(gè)窗口里的一名年輕女郎親切話(huà)別。他良好的體型于我似乎并不陌生。那女郎顯然是個(gè)美國(guó)人，而他英國(guó)人的特征也十分明顯。如果不注意這點(diǎn)，單從他娓娓而談的神態(tài)判斷，我定會(huì)把他們當(dāng)成一對(duì)父女。我熱切地想聽(tīng)到他說(shuō)話(huà)的內(nèi)容，十分確定他此時(shí)正提供著最寶貴的建議；而他又是那般溫柔地凝視著他的傾聽(tīng)者，真是活脫脫的一個(gè)美男子。末了，他又叮嚀幾句，更是魅力攝人了，連站在那么遠(yuǎn)之外的我都能感受到。而這魅力，就好比他的身材，隱隱約約為我所熟悉。但是，我在哪見(jiàn)到過(guò)呢?

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我猛地想起來(lái)了。他是休伯特·勒·羅斯。可是，比起最后一次見(jiàn)面，他發(fā)生了多大的改變呀！那都是七八年前在濱河路的事了。當(dāng)時(shí)他正失業(yè)(失業(yè)對(duì)他而言再正常不過(guò)了)，來(lái)找我借半克朗。他是如此魅力非凡，借他點(diǎn)兒東西都能讓人受寵若驚。但憑著那樣的魅力，他竟一直沒(méi)在倫敦舞臺(tái)紅起來(lái)，其中道理我是猜不透的。他滴酒不沾，是一個(gè)優(yōu)秀的演員。可他也游走到外地了，像其他許許多多休伯特·勒·羅斯一樣(當(dāng)然，我在這所寫(xiě)下的并非他的真名)。于是我也就像別人一樣，沒(méi)過(guò)多少時(shí)日就把他遺忘了。

時(shí)光流逝，在奧斯頓的站臺(tái)上再度見(jiàn)到他，真有些陌生感，尤其是他現(xiàn)在如此地闊氣殷實(shí)。把他給認(rèn)出來(lái)可真不容易，其一是幾乎令他面目全非發(fā)福了的身材，其二更是他今非昔比的衣著。多年前，他兩頰瘦癯，胡子拉碴，一件人造毛皮大衣是唯一能讓他拋頭露面的皮囊。但如今，他的穿戴典型地透出富貴而內(nèi)斂的風(fēng)格。他無(wú)須去引人注目，人們自然而然就會(huì)被他所吸引。有他這樣一位具備銀行家氣質(zhì)的人前來(lái)送行，被送的人都會(huì)甚感榮幸。

“請(qǐng)后退，請(qǐng)后退！”列車(chē)就要開(kāi)了，我也揮手向朋友告別。可勒·羅斯并沒(méi)有動(dòng)，依舊站在那兒握著那美國(guó)女郎的雙手。“請(qǐng)后退，先生！”他照做了，但立即又沖了回去，上前耳語(yǔ)了最后一句珍重之辭。我猜，當(dāng)時(shí)女郎一定淚眼汪汪了吧。而最終當(dāng)他目送列車(chē)駛出視線(xiàn)，轉(zhuǎn)過(guò)身時(shí)，他眼里也噙滿(mǎn)了淚。不過(guò)，見(jiàn)到我時(shí)他還是表現(xiàn)得很高興。他一邊詢(xún)問(wèn)這些年來(lái)我都隱匿在什么地方；一邊還給我那半克朗，仿佛這錢(qián)他昨天才剛剛借去。他說(shuō)每星期六我發(fā)表的那些劇評(píng)是如何賞心悅目，同時(shí)還把我的手挽起，沿著站臺(tái)一路緩緩地走。

作為回敬，我告訴他由于他的離去令倫敦舞臺(tái)失色不少。“啊，的確，”他答道，“我如今不再在舞臺(tái)上演戲了。”他說(shuō)這話(huà)時(shí)對(duì)“舞臺(tái)”這個(gè)詞特別強(qiáng)調(diào)，我便問(wèn)，那現(xiàn)在他又在何處演戲。“站臺(tái)上。”他回答道。“你的意思是，”我又問(wèn)，“你在音樂(lè)會(huì)上朗誦?”他笑笑，說(shuō)：“就這兒，”還用手杖敲著地面，“我說(shuō)的站臺(tái)就是這兒”。他神奇的發(fā)跡是不是攪亂了他的神經(jīng)?可他看上去十分理智啊！我于是請(qǐng)他把話(huà)講明白。

“我想，”他一邊向我遞過(guò)一支雪茄并點(diǎn)上，一邊說(shuō)道，“你剛才在給一位朋友送行吧?”我表示同意。接著他又問(wèn)那我認(rèn)為他剛才在做什么。我回答說(shuō)我看見(jiàn)他也在送朋友。“不，”他嚴(yán)肅地說(shuō)，“那位女士并不是我的朋友。我今天早上才第一次見(jiàn)她，不到半個(gè)小時(shí)前，就在這兒。”說(shuō)著他又用手杖敲了敲站臺(tái)。

我承認(rèn)自己被他弄得摸不著頭腦了。他笑笑：“你大概聽(tīng)說(shuō)過(guò)英美社會(huì)局吧?”我說(shuō)沒(méi)有。他便解釋道，每年前來(lái)英國(guó)旅行的美國(guó)人成千上萬(wàn)，可其中不少人沒(méi)有英國(guó)朋友。以前他們往往攜帶介紹信來(lái)這里。但英國(guó)人素來(lái)就太淡漠了，這些信寫(xiě)是寫(xiě)了，可連張廢紙都不如。“所以，”勒·羅斯說(shuō)，“英美社會(huì)局便應(yīng)運(yùn)而生，以滿(mǎn)足這項(xiàng)長(zhǎng)期而迫切的需要。美國(guó)人喜好社交，多數(shù)人又囊中殷實(shí)。社會(huì)局便向他們提供英國(guó)朋友。所得費(fèi)用，做朋友的和社會(huì)局五五分成。唉，我混不上個(gè)局長(zhǎng)，沒(méi)福發(fā)大財(cái)。我就是一個(gè)雇員罷了。不過(guò)也還算湊和，現(xiàn)在算是個(gè)送行人員吧。”

我要求他作進(jìn)一步說(shuō)明。“不少美國(guó)人，”他接著道，“負(fù)擔(dān)不起在英國(guó)交朋結(jié)友的錢(qián)，但花錢(qián)請(qǐng)人為他們送送行還是沒(méi)問(wèn)題的。單送一個(gè)人收款五鎊(相當(dāng)25美元); 兩位或兩位以上的團(tuán)體費(fèi)也不過(guò)是八鎊(相當(dāng)40美元)。他們到局里提前付好錢(qián)，留下出發(fā)日期以及相貌特征，以便送行人員辨認(rèn)他們。然后——到時(shí)候就有人為他們送行了。”

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“可這值得嗎?”我不禁叫了起來(lái)。“當(dāng)然啦，”勒·羅斯回答道。“這不至于讓他們自覺(jué)是‘他鄉(xiāng)客’。列車(chē)員會(huì)因此敬重他們，而其他乘客也不會(huì)瞧不起他們——他們不久就要一同登上輪船的。這能為他們贏得整個(gè)航行中的地位。再說(shuō)，事情本身就很有意思。你剛才看到了我送那位女郎吧。不覺(jué)得我身手不錯(cuò)嗎?”“的確不凡，”我承認(rèn)道。“我真羨慕你。你看看我站在那兒——”“是的，我能想象。你在那兒，從頭到腳哪兒都不對(duì)勁，呆呆地望著你的朋友，搜腸刮肚地找著話(huà)題。我完全理解。以前我也是這樣的，只不過(guò)后來(lái)專(zhuān)門(mén)研習(xí)，干起了這行，才表現(xiàn)得像模像樣起來(lái)。我現(xiàn)在的技術(shù)還沒(méi)有登峰造極，登上站臺(tái)后不免總有些怯場(chǎng)。這火車(chē)站的戲可最難演，這點(diǎn)你一定也有切身體會(huì)。”“可是，”我有些生氣了，“我沒(méi)有演戲，我可是在真心實(shí)意地感覺(jué)——”“我也是的，伙計(jì)，”勒·羅斯又說(shuō)，“沒(méi)有真情實(shí)感是演不了戲的。那人叫什么來(lái)著，那個(gè)法國(guó)人——狄德羅，對(duì)了——他說(shuō)過(guò)可以；可他都懂得些什么?你沒(méi)看見(jiàn)火車(chē)開(kāi)時(shí)我眼睛里涌出的淚水嗎？告訴你吧，我確確實(shí)實(shí)受了感動(dòng)，我的眼淚不是硬擠出來(lái)的。我敢說(shuō)剛才你也一樣，只不過(guò)你做不到用眼淚來(lái)證明你的感動(dòng)罷了。你不會(huì)表達(dá)你的感情，也就是說(shuō)，你演不了戲。退一步說(shuō)，”他說(shuō)得稍微委婉些，“至少你在火車(chē)站演不了戲。”“那請(qǐng)賜教!”我放開(kāi)了嗓門(mén)請(qǐng)求。他定定地看著我，斟酌片刻，終于說(shuō)“好”，答應(yīng)了下來(lái)，“實(shí)際上送行的旺季也快過(guò)去了。我可以給你上幾堂課。目前我的門(mén)下子弟還真不少；不過(guò)還是這樣吧，”說(shuō)著，他查了查他那漂亮的記事簿，“定為每周四和每周五，一次一小時(shí)。”

他開(kāi)出的學(xué)費(fèi)，坦白說(shuō)，實(shí)在是不低的。但既然是學(xué)本領(lǐng)，我也就不會(huì)嫌貴。

 

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