I was a discord in Gateshead Hall. I was like nobody there.
我在盖茨黑德府上格格不入。在那里我跟谁都不像。
I had nothing in harmony with Mrs. Reed or her children, or her chosen vassalage.
同里德太太、她的孩子、她看中的家仆，都不融洽。
If they did not love me, in fact, as little did I love them.
他们不爱我，说实在我也一样不爱他们。
They were not bound to regard with affection a thing that could not sympathise with one amongst them.
他们没有必要热情对待一个与自已合不来的家伙。
A heterogeneous thing, opposed to them in temperament, in capacity, in propensities
一个无论是个性、地位，还是嗜好都同他们泾渭分明的异己。
A useless thing, incapable of serving their interest, or adding to their pleasure.
一个既不能为他们效劳，也不能给他们增添欢乐的废物。
A noxious thing, cherishing the germs of indignation at their treatment, of contempt of their judgment.
一个对自己的境界心存不满而又蔑视他们想法的讨厌家伙。
I know that had I been a sanguine, brilliant, careless, exacting, handsome, romping child- though equally dependent and friendless
我明白，如果我是一个聪明开朗、漂亮顽皮、不好侍候的孩子，即使同样是寄人篱下，同样是无亲无故。

Mrs. Reed would have endured my presence more complacently.
里德太太也会对我的处境更加宽容忍让。
Her children would have entertained for me more of the cordiality of fellow-feeling.
她的孩子们也会对我亲切热情些。
The servants would have been less prone to make me the scapegoat of the nursery.
她的孩子们也会对我亲切热情些；佣人们也不会一再把我当作保育室的替罪羊了。
Daylight began to forsake the red-room.
红房子里白昼将尽。
It was past four o'clock, and the beclouded afternoon was tending to drear twilight.
时候已是四点过后，暗沉沉的下午正转为凄凉的黄昏。
I heard the rain still beating continuously on the staircase window, and the wind howling in the grove behind the hall.
我听见雨点仍不停地敲打着楼梯的窗户，狂风在门厅后面的树丛中怒号。
I grew by degrees cold as a stone, and then my courage sank.
我渐渐地冷得像块石头，勇气也烟消云散。
My habitual mood of humiliation, self-doubt, forlorn depression, fell damp on the embers of my decaying ire.
往常那种屈辱感，那种缺乏自信、孤独沮丧的情绪，浇灭了我将消未消的怒火。
All said I was wicked, and perhaps I might be so.
谁都说我坏，也许我确实如此吧。
What thought had I been but just conceiving of starving myself to death?
我不是一心谋划着让自己饿死吗？
That certainly was a crime, and was I fit to die?
这当然是一种罪过。而且我该不该死呢？
Or was the vault under the chancel of Gateshead Church an inviting bourne?
或者，盖茨黑德教堂圣坛底下的墓穴是个令人向往的归宿吗？
In such vault I had been told did Mr. Reed lie buried.
听说里德先生就长眠在这样的墓穴里。
And led by this thought to recall his idea, I dwelt on it with gathering dread.
这一念头重又勾起了我对他的回忆，而越往下细想，就越害怕起来。
I could not remember him, but I knew that he was my own uncle- my mother's brother- that he had taken me when a parentless infant to his house.
我已经不记得他了，只知道他是我舅父-我母亲的哥哥，他收养了我这个襁褓中的孤儿。
And that in his last moments he had required a promise of Mrs. Reed that she would rear and maintain me as one of her own children.
而且在弥留之际，要里德太太答应，把我当作她自己的孩子来抚养。
Mrs. Reed probably considered she had kept this promise.
里德太太也许认为自己是信守诺言的。
And so she had, I dare say, as well as her nature would permit her.
而我想就她本性而论，也确是实践了当初的许诺。
But how could she really like an interloper not of her race, and unconnected with her, after her husband's death, by any tie?
可是她怎么能真心喜欢一个不属于她家的外姓、一个在丈夫死后同她已了却一切干系的人呢？
It must have been most irksome to find herself bound by a hard-wrung pledge to stand in the stead of a parent to a strange child she could not love,
她发现自己受这勉为其难的保证的约束，充当一个自己所无法喜爱的陌生孩子的母亲，眼睁睁看着一位不相投合的外人永远硬挤在自己的家人中间。
and to see an uncongenial alien permanently intruded on her own family group.
对她来说，这想必是件最恼人的事情了。