×

Wir verwenden Cookies, um LingQ zu verbessern. Mit dem Besuch der Seite erklärst du dich einverstanden mit unseren Cookie-Richtlinien.


image

1984 by George Orwell, Part three, Chapter 3 (3)

Part three, Chapter 3 (3)

He seized one of Winston's remaining front teeth between his powerful thumb and forefinger. A twinge of pain shot through Winston's jaw. O'Brien had wrenched the loose tooth out by the roots. He tossed it across the cell.

‘You are rotting away,' he said; ‘you are falling to pieces. What are you? A bag of filth. Now turn around and look into that mirror again. Do you see that thing facing you? That is the last man. If you are human, that is humanity. Now put your clothes on again.' Winston began to dress himself with slow stiff movements.

Until now he had not seemed to notice how thin and weak he was.

Only one thought stirred in his mind: that he must have been in this place longer than he had imagined. Then suddenly as he fixed the miserable rags round himself a feeling of pity for his ruined body overcame him. Before he knew what he was doing he had collapsed on to a small stool that stood beside the bed and burst into tears. He was aware of his ugliness, his gracelessness, a bundle of bones in filthy underclothes sitting weeping in the harsh white light: but he could not stop himself. O'Brien laid a hand on his shoulder, almost kindly.

‘It will not last for ever,' he said. ‘You can escape from it whenever you choose. Everything depends on yourself.'

‘You did it!' sobbed Winston. ‘You reduced me to this state.' ‘No, Winston, you reduced yourself to it. This is what you

accepted when you set yourself up against the Party. It was all

contained in that first act. Nothing has happened that you did not foresee.'

He paused, and then went on:

‘We have beaten you, Winston. We have broken you up. You have seen what your body is like. Your mind is in the same state. I do not think there can be much pride left in you. You have been kicked and flogged and insulted, you have screamed with pain, you have rolled on the floor in your own blood and vomit. You have whimpered for mercy, you have betrayed everybody and everything. Can you think of a single degradation that has not happened to you?'

Winston had stopped weeping, though the tears were still oozing out of his eyes. He looked up at O'Brien.

‘I have not betrayed Julia,' he said.

O'Brien looked down at him thoughtfully. ‘No,' he said; ‘no; that is perfectly true. You have not betrayed Julia.'

The peculiar reverence for O'Brien, which nothing seemed able to destroy, flooded Winston's heart again. How intelligent, he thought, how intelligent! Never did O'Brien fail to understand what was said to him. Anyone else on earth would have answered promptly that he HAD betrayed Julia. For what was there that they had not screwed out of him under the torture? He had told them everything he knew about her, her habits, her character, her past life; he had confessed in the most trivial detail everything that had happened at their meetings, all that he had said to her and she to him, their black-market meals, their adulteries, their vague plottings against the Party — everything. And yet, in the sense in which he intended the word, he had not betrayed her. He had not stopped loving her; his feelings towards her had remained the same. O'Brien had seen what he meant without the need for explanation.

‘Tell me,' he said, ‘how soon will they shoot me?'

‘It might be a long time,' said O'Brien. ‘You are a difficult case. But don't give up hope. Everyone is cured sooner or later. In the end we shall shoot you.'

Part three, Chapter 3 (3)

He seized one of Winston's remaining front teeth between his powerful thumb and forefinger. Agarró uno de los dientes frontales restantes de Winston entre su poderoso pulgar e índice. A twinge of pain shot through Winston's jaw. Una punzada de dolor atravesó la mandíbula de Winston. O'Brien had wrenched the loose tooth out by the roots. O'Brien le había arrancado de raíz el diente suelto. О'Браєн вирвав хиткий зуб із коренем. He tossed it across the cell.

‘You are rotting away,' he said; ‘you are falling to pieces. "Te estás pudriendo", dijo; 'te estás cayendo a pedazos. What are you? A bag of filth. Now turn around and look into that mirror again. Do you see that thing facing you? Ви бачите цю річ перед собою? That is the last man. If you are human, that is humanity. Now put your clothes on again.' Winston began to dress himself with slow stiff movements. Winston comenzó a vestirse con movimientos lentos y rígidos.

Until now he had not seemed to notice how thin and weak he was.

Only one thought stirred in his mind: that he must have been in this place longer than he had imagined. Then suddenly as he fixed the miserable rags round himself a feeling of pity for his ruined body overcame him. Entonces, de repente, mientras se arreglaba los miserables trapos alrededor de sí mismo, se apoderó de él un sentimiento de lástima por su cuerpo destrozado. Before he knew what he was doing he had collapsed on to a small stool that stood beside the bed and burst into tears. He was aware of his ugliness, his gracelessness, a bundle of bones in filthy underclothes sitting weeping in the harsh white light: but he could not stop himself. Era consciente de su fealdad, su falta de gracia, un manojo de huesos en ropa interior mugrienta sentado llorando bajo la dura luz blanca: pero no pudo contenerse. O'Brien laid a hand on his shoulder, almost kindly.

‘It will not last for ever,' he said. "No durará para siempre", dijo. ‘You can escape from it whenever you choose. Everything depends on yourself.'

‘You did it!' '¡Lo hiciste!' sobbed Winston. ‘You reduced me to this state.' ‘No, Winston, you  reduced yourself  to  it. —No, Winston, te has reducido a eso. This  is  what you

accepted when you set yourself up against the Party. aceptado cuando te pones en contra del Partido. It was all

contained in that first act. contenida en ese primer acto. Nothing has happened that you did not foresee.'

He paused, and then went on:

‘We have beaten you, Winston. Te hemos vencido, Winston. — Ми перемогли вас, Вінстоне. We have broken you up. Te hemos roto. You have seen what your body is like. Your mind is in the same state. I do not think there can be much pride left in you. No creo que pueda quedar mucho orgullo en ti. Я не думаю, що в тобі може залишитися багато гордості. You have been kicked and flogged and insulted, you have screamed with pain, you have rolled on the floor in your own blood and vomit. You have whimpered for mercy, you have betrayed everybody and everything. Can you think of a single degradation that has not happened to you?' ¿Puedes pensar en una sola degradación que no te haya ocurrido?

Winston had stopped weeping, though the tears were still oozing out of his eyes. He looked up at O'Brien. Miró a O'Brien.

‘I have not betrayed Julia,' he said.

O'Brien looked down at him thoughtfully. ‘No,' he said; ‘no; that is perfectly true. You have not betrayed Julia.'

The peculiar reverence for O'Brien, which nothing seemed able to destroy, flooded Winston's heart again. La peculiar reverencia por O'Brien, que nada parecía capaz de destruir, inundó de nuevo el corazón de Winston. Особлива пошана до О'Браєна, яку, здавалося, ніщо не могло знищити, знову заполонила Вінстонове серце. How intelligent, he thought, how intelligent! ¡Qué inteligente, pensó, qué inteligente! Never did O'Brien fail to understand what was said to him. O'Brien nunca dejó de entender lo que le dijeron. О'Браєн ніколи не міг зрозуміти, що йому сказали. Anyone else on earth would have answered promptly that he HAD betrayed Julia. Cualquier otra persona en la tierra habría respondido de inmediato que HABÍA traicionado a Julia. For what was there that they had not screwed out of him under the torture? Porque, ¿qué había que no le hubieran arrancado bajo la tortura? Бо що з нього не викрутили під тортурами? He had told them everything he knew about her, her habits, her character, her past life; he had confessed in the most trivial detail everything that had happened at their meetings, all that he had said to her and she to him, their black-market meals, their adulteries, their vague plottings against the Party — everything. Les había contado todo lo que sabía sobre ella, sus hábitos, su carácter, su vida pasada; le había confesado en el más trivial detalle todo lo que había sucedido en sus reuniones, todo lo que le había dicho a ella y ella a él, sus comidas en el mercado negro, sus adulterios, sus vagas conspiraciones contra el Partido, todo. And yet, in the sense in which he intended the word, he had not betrayed her. Y, sin embargo, en el sentido en que pretendía la palabra, no la había traicionado. He had not stopped loving her; his feelings towards her had remained the same. O'Brien had seen what he meant without the need for explanation.

‘Tell me,' he said, ‘how soon will they shoot me?' "Dime", dijo, "¿cuándo me dispararán?".

‘It might be a long time,' said O'Brien. —Puede que sea mucho tiempo —dijo O'Brien. ‘You are a difficult case. But don't give up hope. Pero no pierdas la esperanza. Everyone is cured sooner or later. In the end we shall shoot you.' Al final te dispararemos.