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　　1. Wuthering Heights——《呼啸山庄》

　　You'll pass the churchyard, Mr Lockwood, on your way back to the Grange, and you'll see the three graverestones close to the moor. Catherine's, the middle one, is old now, and half buried in plants which have grown over it. On one side is Edgar Linton's, and on the other is Heathcliff's new one. If you stay there a moment, and watch the insects flying in the warm summer air, and listen to the soft wind breathing through the grass, you'll understand how quietly they rest, the sleepers in that quiet earth.

　　您回画眉山庄的路上会经过教堂墓地，洛克伍德先生，您可以看见靠近荒原的三个墓碑。中间凯瑟琳的已经很旧了，被周围生长的杂草掩盖住了一半。一边是艾加林顿的，另一边是西斯克里夫的新墓碑。如果您在那儿呆一会儿，看着在温暖夏日的空气里纷飞的昆虫，听着在草丛中喘息的柔风，您就会知道在静谧的泥土下，长眠的人在多么平静的安息。

　　2. The Scarlet Letter——《红字》

　　The founders of a new colony, whatever Utopia of human virtue and happiness they might originally project, have invariably recognised it among their earliest practical necessities to allot a portion of the virgin soil as a cemetery, and another portion as the site of a prison. In accordance with this rule, it may safely be assumed that the forefathers of Boston had built the first prison-house somewhere in the vicinity of Cornhill, almost as seasonably as they marked out the first burial-ground, on Isaac Johnson's lot, and round about his grave, which subsequently became the nucleus of all the congregated sepulchres in the old churchyard of King's Chapel. Certain it is that, some fifteen or twenty years after the settlement of the town, the wooden jail was already marked with weather-stains and other indications of age, which gave a yet darker aspect to its beetle-browed and gloomy front. The rust on the ponderous iron-work of its oaken door looked more antique than any thing else in the New World. Like all that pertains to crime, it seemed never to have known a youthful era. Before this ugly edifice, and between it and the wheel-track of the street, was a grass-plot, much overgrown with burdock, pig-weed, apple-peru, and such unsightly vegetation, which evidently found something congenial in the soil that had so early borne the black flower of civilised society, a prison. But, on one side of the portal, and rooted almost at the threshold, was a wild rose-bush, covered, in this month of June, with its delicate gems, which might be imagined to offer their fragrance and fragile beauty to the prisoner as he went in, and to the condemned criminal as he came forth to his doom, in token that the deep heart of Nature could pity and be kind to him.

　　新殖民地的开拓者们，不管他们的头脑中起初有什么关于人类品德和幸福的美妙理想，总要在各种实际需要的草创之中，忘不了划出一片未开垦的处女地充当墓地，再则出另一片土地来修建监狱。根据这一惯例，我们可以有把握地推断：波士顿的先民们在谷山一带的某处地方修建第一座监狱，同在艾萨克.约朝逊①地段标出头一块垄地几乎是在同一时期。后来便以他的坟茔为核心，扩展成王家教堂的那一片累累墓群的古老墓地。可以确定无疑地说，早在镇子建立十五年或二十年之际，那座木造监狱就已经因风吹日晒雨淋和岁月的流逝而为它那狰狞和阴森的门面增加了几分晦暗凄楚的景象，使它那橡木大门上沉重的铁活的斑斑锈痕显得比新大陆的任何陈迹都益发古老。象一切与罪恶二字息息相关的事物一样，这座监狱似乎从来不曾经历过自己的青春韶华。从这座丑陋的大房子门前，一直到轧着车辙的街道，有一片草地，上面过于繁茂地簇生着牛蒡、茨藜、毒莠等等这类不堪入目的杂草，这些杂草显然在这块土地上找到了共通的东西，因为正是在这块土地上早早便诞生了文明社会的那栋黑花——监狱。然而，在大门的一侧，几乎就在门限处，有一丛野玫瑰挺然而立，在这六月的时分，盛开着精致的宝石般的花朵，这会使人想象，它们是在向步入牢门的囚犯或跨出阴暗的刑徒奉献着自己的`芬芳和妩媚，借以表示在大自然的深深的心扉中，对他们仍存着一丝怜悯和仁慈。

　　3. Hamlet’ Monologue ——<<哈姆雷特的独白>>

　　To be, or not to be- that is the question:

　　Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

　　The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune

　　Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

　　And by opposing end them. To die- to sleep-

　　No more; and by a sleep to say we end

　　The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks

　　That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation

　　Devoutly to be wish'd. To die- to sleep.

　　To sleep- perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub!

　　For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

　　When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

　　Must give us pause. There's the respect

　　That makes calamity of so long life.

　　For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

　　Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

　　The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,

　　The insolence of office, and the spurns

　　That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,

　　When he himself might his quietus make

　　With a bare bodkin? Who would these fardels bear,

　　To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

　　But that the dread of something after death-

　　The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn

　　No traveller returns- puzzles the will,

　　And makes us rather bear those ills we have

　　Than fly to others that we know not of?

　　Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,

　　And thus the native hue of resolution

　　Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

　　And enterprises of great pith and moment

　　With this regard their currents turn awry

　　And lose the name of action.

　　生存还是毁灭?这是个问题。

　　究竟哪样更高贵，去忍受那狂暴的命运无情的摧残 还是挺身去反抗那无边的烦恼，把它扫一个干净。

　　去死，去睡就结束了，如果睡眠能结束我们心灵的创伤和肉体所承受的千百种痛苦，那真是生存求之不得的天大的好事。去死，去睡，