The last leaf (最后一片叶子)剧本
Scene 1
It was the deep autumn of New York. The life there was not as bustling and noisy as it used to be. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. In a cabin located in the western part of Washington square, a mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs became another victim of him. Unfortunately, it was Johnsy. And she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.
One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, grey eyebrow.
D:"She has one chance in - let us say, ten," (边说边甩着体温表)" And that chance is for her to want to live. But it seems your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?" S:"She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day."
D:"Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?"
S:"A man? Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind."(扯着嗓子)
D:"Well, it is the weakness, then, I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten.(医生走开，苏珊低声啜泣，而后故作镇定地拿着画板进入房间) S：Johnsy.
J: Oh,here you come back,Sudie.（有气无力）
S:Yes,dear. （走到她床边，握着她的手）
J: Has the doctor gone?
S: Umm. Well, if it wasn’t me who led him the way, I’m afraid….I’m afraid he would be stuck in the missing alley!（含着怨气）
J: Twelve,eleven,ten……
S: Johnsy, What are you counting for?
J: "Six," (用气音)"They're falling faster now. Oh, there goes another one. There are only five left now."
S: Five what, my dear?
J: "Leaves. On the ivy vine. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy.（伤感）
S: Oh, don’t do things like that! I’ll pull the shade down so that you won’t catch a cold.
J: No! Please don’t, Sue…
S: OK,OK, I’ll keep off the curtain. Then lie down my dear, just do not count those leaves any more.
J: Poor leaves. There will be none left before long. And would a girl like me who’s about to go to the heaven be afraid of catching cold? No, certainly not.
S: Oh, I’ve never heard of such nonsense. The doctor have just said that you’re getting well. How could a slight illness like this do harm to you since you are so young and charming? That’s exactly what the doctor told me!
J:Sue, look at me. Don’t deny that you’ve wept. If I were going to recover, why would your face be covered with tears? I’ m not silly. I’ve read the newspaper. The
pneumonia caused by flu have taken away so many people’s lives and I….I’ll be the next.
旁白：
琼西脸色惨白，静静地躺着，活像一尊倒塌下来的塑像，她闭上眼睛说?? Johnsy opened her mouth, with her eyes closed, and lying white and still as fallen statue.
J: Because I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.
S: My child, don’t be so silly. What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? How can you link your life with a small ivy leaf? Please do not say things like that. I’ll never let you speak that sort of words, Johnsy.
J: Sue, please don’t blame me. Neither do I want to leave you as well as the beautiful world. However, I’ve tried my best to defend, like the weak leaf. I believe it doesn’t want to fall down, but how could it survive without any strength?
S: No, Johnsy. Throw away the leaves from your brain, ok? Let’s think about
something marvelous. Let’s think about the Bay of Naples, the motherland of VG, and the SN River in Paris.
J: Oh, that’s right. We’ve engaged to travel around the Europe together and realize our artistic dreams.
S：Yes, and to save up for that, we cut back daily expenses, never dine out, never buy fashionable clothes and keep off any banquet.
J:(转头看窗外) There fall down another leaf and only 3 left. Tomorrow…tomorrow there’ll be none left.
S: Johnsy, I beg you! Please don’t count the leaves any more.
旁 白：
老贝尔门是住在楼下底层的一个画家。他六十多岁了，有一把像米开朗琪罗的摩西雕像上的胡子，从萨蒂尔似的脑袋上顺着小鬼般的身体卷垂下来。贝尔门在艺术界是个失意的人。他耍了四十年的画笔，还是同艺术女神隔有相当距离，连她的长袍的边缘都没有摸到。他老是说就要画一幅杰作，可是始终没有动手。除了偶尔涂抹了一些商业画或广告画之外，几年没有画过什么。 他喝杜松子酒总是过量，老是唠唠叨叨地谈着他未来的杰作。他还是个暴躁的小老头儿，喝了酒的老贝尔门摇摇晃晃来敲门??
Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a long, white beard curling down over his chest. Behrman was a failure in art. For forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.
There old drunk Behrman knocked the door
贝尔门：（敲门）苏 珊，小苏珊小姐！
苏 珊：（开门）啊，是你！老贝尔门。
贝尔门：我跟你说，昨天那幅画，我卖了三美元。
苏 珊：哎，你怎么又喝酒了呀，老贝尔门？ （责怪）
贝尔门：像我这样一 个天才艺术家，作品只卖三美元，他们有眼??
苏 珊：（接上）不识泰山！（哈哈！嘘！）老贝尔门，你轻 点轻点好吗？琼西她刚睡着。
贝尔门：噢??（看着她的眼睛）你哭过了？是谁欺负你了？（扬扬拳头） 苏 珊：不，不是的，是琼西，医生说她得了很严重的肺炎。
贝尔门：肺炎？ （疑惑）
苏 珊：她恐怕是很难治愈了。（她眼睛红了，泪水滑了下来）
贝尔门：别哭啊，想想办法，哪怕，哪怕把我老贝尔门给 当了，（拍拍胸脯）也要把琼西的病治好！
苏 珊：可是，她说等窗外常春藤上的叶子都掉了，她也就要走了。她本来就柔弱瘦小的像一片叶子，她对这个世界的 留恋是越来越少了。我真害怕，害怕她真的离逝飘走。（颤抖）
贝尔门：人怎么能和叶子相比呢？琼西，她是个善良的姑娘啊，她这么年轻那么美丽，她的画这么有灵性。
琼 西：（说着梦话）最后一片叶子，掉下来了，真的要掉下来了…… 苏 珊：琼西、琼西。
贝尔门： “什么话！”他嚷 道，“难道世界上竟有这种傻子，因为可恶的藤叶落掉而想死？我活了一辈子也没有听到过这种怪事。你怎么能让她脑袋里有这种傻念头呢？唉，可怜的小琼西小 姐。”可怜的孩子，她病得不轻啊。 （摇头，心疼） 苏 珊：她整天都在发烧，满脑子胡思乱想的。
琼 西：（昏迷呼喊）噢，我看到最后一片叶子飘下去，飘下 去了?? 苏 珊：琼西，琼西。（带着哭腔喊）
音乐响起??
贝尔门：最后一片叶 子，可怜的琼西。噢，上帝，为什么让这么可爱的姑娘在这里生这么可怕的病呢？如果，如果我能够挣到钱的话，一定要让你们搬出这里，一定的。最后一片叶子， 它不会掉下去的，一定不会！（若有所思）
Scene 2
旁 白：
夜的来临带来了呼啸的北风，滂沱大雨不断顺着荷兰式屋檐流泻下来。苏珊提心吊胆的陪伴着琼西，第二天早晨，经过了漫漫长夜的风吹雨打，仍旧有一片常春藤的叶子贴在墙上。它是藤上最后的一片了。靠近叶柄的颜色还是深绿的，但那锯齿形的边缘已染上了枯败的黄色，它傲然挂在离地面 二十来英尺的一根藤枝上面?? The coming scary night brought the screaming wind and a persistent, cold rain, mingled with snow. Sue accompanied Johnsy with a tight heart. After the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground.
琼 西：（从床上起来，望着窗外，突然异常兴奋，大叫起来）苏珊！苏珊！ 苏 珊：哦，琼西，你怎么起来了？ （有点嗔怪）
琼 西：苏珊，亲爱的苏 珊！你看，那片叶子，常春藤上还有一片叶子。
苏 珊：天哪！我的上帝！（不敢相信自己的眼睛）你看它的 根部仍然是深绿色的，叶子的边缘也已经枯萎发黄了，它还在那儿，它还在那儿！
琼 西：是啊，苏珊，这可是最后一片叶子。（兴奋，惊喜）
苏 珊：恩。
琼 西：我原以为，它昨晚一定会掉的，我听见风声了，今天 它一定会掉的，我也会死的。噢，苏珊，我是个傻姑娘，就像你昨天说的，我是在胡言乱语，我应该活下去。哎，就像这叶子，这是上帝的旨意，怎么能够轻易的死 亡呢？哎，我们，我们还有诺言没有实现呢，我怎么能就此离去呢？ （笑）
苏 珊：噢，我的上帝呀，我想，我想你已经完全好了，不是吗？
琼 西：我好了？ （高兴）
苏 珊：来，我们坐会儿。 （亲昵的互相依靠着）
琼 西：苏珊，我想我有点饿了，而且我想梳梳头，想照照镜子。
苏 珊：太好了！你乖乖的坐着，我给你弄点好吃的，乖乖坐着啊！（跑下去）
旁白：
邻居 1：昨晚上，不知哪个冒失鬼，上楼时把颜料给打翻了。
邻居 2：就是啊，弄得地上都是些黄黄绿绿的东西。
邻居 3：昨天晚上，不知哪个醉汉又喝醉了酒，你瞧瞧，弄得满地都是画笔。 邻居 4：邻居们，邻居们，你们知道吗？昨天晚上，老贝尔 门??（伏在他们耳边说）
众邻居：什么？上帝啊！（众人 大惊）走，去看看去。
旁白：
苏珊端着一碗方便面进来，神色沉重，望着琼西欲言又止??
Holding a bowl of instant noodles, Sue stepped into the room with a serious
face.
琼 西：苏珊，你怎么啦？发生什么事了吗？
苏 珊：我有一件事情要告诉你，我们的老贝尔门，他……
琼 西：他怎么了？
苏 珊：他死了。（沉重）
琼 西：啊？怎么会这样？他怎么会死呢？他
苏 珊：今天早上，当人们发现他的时候，他的衣服、鞋子全部都湿透了，浑身冰凉冰凉的。
琼 西：怎么会这样？
苏 珊：你知道他昨晚去哪儿了吗？你来看看这墙上最后的一 片叶子。你有没有想过，为什么这风刮得这么厉害，而它却没有飘落下来呢？这是我们的老贝尔门，他淋了一夜的雨，为了你，在最后一片叶子掉下来的时候，是他 把它画在墙上的。
琼 西：噢，天啊，老贝尔门，老贝尔门。
音乐响起，两个女孩 拥抱而泣??
旁 白：这个就是最后一片叶子的故事，平凡的如同老贝尔门这个人。能体会到其中震撼人心的力量的也只有那两个女孩了。苏珊和琼西它们会永远记得那个操了40年画笔都没有摸到艺术女神的衣裙的老贝尔门，会记得他那幅等待了25年的杰作。最后一片叶子融入了他的真、他的善、他的美、他的爱，那是他艺术的结晶，是他生命的升华，那最后的一片叶子！
That’s the end of the story “the last leaf”, which is as ordinary as old Behrman. It is the two weeping girls who experienced the inspiring power of the story. I believe that Sue and Johnsy would engrave Old Behrman on their minds even though he had wielded the brush for forty years without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe and always remember the masterpiece awaiting for nearly 25 years. The last leaf was a crystallization as well as sublimation of his sincere, his virtue, his warm heart and his deep love.