这是我第一次翻译外国作品，水平低，加上词汇量小，如果在语法上有错误的话请见笑。诶嘿嘿嘿献丑了-！

这个是一个月前的版本，我也不知道什么时候有时间再翻译呢，我先试了一小段。：D

感觉语言真是不通……

STAVE ONE: MARLEY’S GHOST

一：马利的幽灵

Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to.

Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don't know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend, and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral, and solemnised it with an undoubted bargain.

雅各布·马利已经死了，没什么好怀疑的。斯克鲁奇先生知道吗？那当然了，不然还能怎样？斯克鲁奇和马利可已经是不知道多少年的老搭档了。斯克鲁奇是他唯一的遗嘱执行人、唯一的法定遗产管理人、唯一的受让人、唯一的遗产继承人、唯一的朋友……还有唯一的送葬人。不过，朋友的死亡没让斯克鲁奇感到多少悲痛，在葬礼的时候这位成功的商人依旧毫无悬念地独自操持着他的生意。

The mention of Marley's funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet's Father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts, than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot--say Saint Paul's Churchyard for instance-- literally to astonish his son's weak mind.

提到马利的葬礼，我们又回到了开头——毫无疑问，马利已经死了——肯定死了，不然这故事也没什么好讲的：就像如果哈姆雷特的老父在剧中还活着，那么在一个冷风飕飕的夜晚，让一位恰以在晚上散步出名的中年绅士，在黑暗中从圣保罗大教堂的墓地里跳出来吓他可怜的意志薄弱的儿子就不会那么引人瞩目了。

Scrooge never painted out Old Marley's name. There it stood, years afterwards, above the warehouse door: Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names. It was all the same to him.

马利死之后，斯克鲁奇没有把他的名字从门牌上漆掉，办公室大门的正中间仍然是“斯克鲁奇和马利”。人们刚和这里打交道的时候总是要么唤他斯克鲁奇，要么喊他马利，但不管是谁的名字，斯克鲁奇统统答应下来。这两个称呼对他来说没有任何区别，他只在乎自己能挣多少个子儿。

Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grind- stone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shrivelled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dogdays; and didn't thaw it one degree at Christmas.

他有一双磨石一样的手。这个好剥削人的斯克鲁奇不仅吝啬，还是个让人感到痛苦恐惧、时时刻刻狼贪虎视的老头子；他像块狡猾的硬燧石，从不让哪块钢铁敲中它来得到一丁点儿火苗。他又神秘又沉默寡言，如牡蛎般独自隐居着。他心中的冷漠冻住了他的苍老五官，仿佛有寒冷的雾凇长在他的大脑壳、皱脸颊、尖锐 的大鼻子、两道眉毛和固执结实的下巴上；他鲜红的眼睛和蓝色的薄唇诉说着他的漠不关心，他沙哑的声音将他的精明刻薄展现得完完全全。他石头似的冷漠让身边冰冻三尺，他的办公室在盛暑也像冰窟窿，就算是圣诞节这样的快活节日也没法把它解冻。事实上没有任何东西能让他觉得温暖，也没有什么能冻得着他，天气对斯克鲁奇的作用总是微乎其微的。