"ART, SCIENCE–you seem to have paid a fairly high price for your happiness," said the Savage, when they were alone. "Anything else?"
“艺术，科学——你好像为你的幸福付出了相当高的代价，”只剩下他们俩时，野蛮人说，“还付出了别的什么吗？”
"Well, religion, of course," replied the Controller. There used to be something called God–before the Nine Years' War.
“当然，还有宗教。”总统回答，以前曾经有过一种叫做上帝的东西。那是在九年战争以前。
But I was forgetting; you know all about God, I suppose.
不过我忘了：关于上帝你是知道的，我估计。
"Well …" The Savage hesitated. He would have liked to say something about solitude, about night, about the mesa lying pale under the moon,
“啊……”野蛮人犹豫了，他想谈谈孤独，夜，月光下的苍白的石源，
about the precipice, the plunge into shadowy darkness, about death.
悬崖，谈一谈往阴影里的黑暗中跳下去和死亡。

He would have liked to speak; but there were no words. Not even in Shakespeare.
他想谈，但是找不出话来表达，甚至用莎士比亚也无法表达。
The Controller, meanwhile, had crossed to the other side of the room and was unlocking a large safe set into the wall between the bookshelves.
这时总统已走到屋子另一边，开始打开一个嵌在书架间的墙壁里的保险箱。
The heavy door swung open. Rummaging in the darkness within,
沉重的门一晃，开了，总统伸手在黑暗里摸索，
"It's a subject," he said, "that has always had a great interest for me."
“这是一个，”总统说，“我一向很感兴趣的题目。”
He pulled out a thick black volume. "You've never read this, for example."
他抽出一本黑色的厚书。“你从来没有读过这本书吧？比如。”
The Savage took it. "The Holy Bible, containing the Old and New Testaments," he read aloud from the title-page.
野蛮人接了过来，“《圣经.新旧约全书》，”他念著书名页。
"Nor this." It was a small book and had lost its cover.
“这书也没有读过吧？”哪是一本小书，封面没有了。
The Imitation of Christ.
《追效基督》。
"Nor this." He handed out another volume.
“这书也没有吧？”他又递给他一本。
The Varieties of Religious Experience. By William James.
《宗教体验种种》，威廉.詹姆斯作。
"And I've got plenty more," Mustapha Mond continued, resuming his seat.
“我还有很多，”穆斯塔法.蒙德说下去，
A whole collection of pornographic old books. God in the safe and Ford on the shelves.
一整套猥亵的古书。保险箱里放着上帝，书架上放着福帝，
He pointed with a laugh to his avowed library–to the shelves of books, the rack full of reading-machine bobbins and sound-track rolls.
他指着他自称的图书馆——那一架架的书，一架架的阅读机线圈和录音带盘——哈哈大笑。
"But if you know about God, why don't you tell them?" asked the Savage indignantly. "Why don't you give them these books about God?"
“可你既然知道上帝，你为什么不告诉他们？”野蛮人义愤填膺，问，“你为什么不把这些有关上帝的书给他们读？”
For the same reason as we don't give them Othello: they're old; they're about God hundreds of years ago. Not about God now.
理由跟不让他们读《奥塞罗》一样，古老了。那是几百年前关于上帝的书，不是关于今天的上帝的书。
But God doesn't change.
上帝可是不会变的。
Men do, though.
但是人会变。
What difference does that make?
那能有什么区别？
"All the difference in the world," said Mustapha Mond.
“有天大的区别。”穆斯塔法橡德说着又站了起来，