このエントリは 36の37の部分 シリーズに 赤毛のアン

『赤毛のアン』英文/和訳 CHAPTER XXXVII 死という名の刈り手

『赤毛のアン』英文/和訳 CHAPTER XXXVII 死という名の刈り手

『Anne of Green Gables』CHAPTER XXXVII を、英語学習用に「英文→和訳」の順で読みやすく整理し、マシューの死・銀行破綻の知らせ・アンとマリラの深い悲しみ・喪失を通した成長・人生の転機に関わる語句を多めに色分けしています。

表示設定 読みやすさに合わせて切り替えできます
カテゴリ別ハイライト
動作・変化 感情・心理 場面・描写 人物・性格 家庭・グリーンゲイブルズ 銀行・破綻 悲しみ・喪失 死・別れ 成長・受容 未来・転機 重要表現

The glory of Anne’s success had filled Green Gables with a bright, quiet happiness.

For a little while, the future seemed to open like a road under golden light.

Anne had won the scholarship, and Redmond shone ahead like a dream made real.

Matthew’s pride was deep, gentle, and almost childlike in its delight.

He looked at Anne with the old silent devotion that had always made her feel safe.

Marilla was proud too, though her pride wore the plain dress of practical speech.

She spoke of plans, expenses, clothes, and arrangements.

But beneath all that, Anne could feel her hidden joy.

It seemed that life had reached a high, sweet place.

But happiness, Anne was soon to learn, can stand very near sorrow.

* * *

One afternoon Matthew came home from town with a newspaper in his hand.

He had been to the post office, and nothing in his quiet manner seemed alarming at first.

But there was news in the paper that struck like a hidden blow.

The Abbey Bank had failed.

Most of Matthew and Marilla’s savings were there.

The words meant loss, uncertainty, and a dark change in the shape of their lives.

Matthew read the news, and the shock went straight to his heart.

He was not a strong man, and worry had long been a quiet burden upon him.

This new blow was more than he could bear.

He stumbled, sank down, and suddenly the ordinary afternoon became a scene of terror.

Marilla cried out, and Anne came running.

In one terrible moment, Anne saw that something beyond ordinary help had happened.

* * *

They sent for help, but help could not call Matthew back.

The doctor came, neighbors came, and the house filled with hushed voices.

But Matthew had gone where love could not follow in the same way.

The quiet man who had loved Anne first and most simply was dead.

At first Anne could not feel the full meaning of it.

The words seemed too huge and too cold to enter her heart.

She moved as if in a dream, answering questions and doing what she was told.

Everything looked strangely clear and strangely unreal.

The rooms were the same rooms, but they had lost their old safety.

Matthew’s chair stood there, but Matthew would never sit in it again.

That simple fact was unbearable.

Yet the full grief still waited, like a storm beyond the hills.

* * *

People came and went through Green Gables with quiet sympathy.

Mrs. Lynde came, practical, kind, and deeply moved.

She helped Marilla with the things that must be done when sorrow leaves no strength for doing them.

Marilla was pale, stunned, and rigid with pain.

She did not break down easily; her grief had a stern, silent shape.

Anne watched her and felt another kind of sorrow beside her own.

Matthew had been Marilla’s brother, her companion, and the quiet center of her life.

Anne began to understand that grief is not the same in every heart.

Some grief cries aloud, and some grief sits still because it has no words.

The house seemed to hold both kinds.

Outside, the world went on with a cruelly ordinary calm.

Birds sang, trees moved in the wind, and the evening light lay softly on the fields.

Anne wondered how beauty could remain when Matthew was gone.

* * *

The funeral passed like a dark, solemn dream.

Anne saw faces, heard voices, and felt the pressure of hands, but everything seemed far away.

She stood beside Marilla, feeling both young and terribly old.

Death had entered her life not as a romantic idea, but as a fact that changed the air she breathed.

She had imagined sorrow many times in stories.

But real sorrow was different.

It did not arrange itself beautifully for dramatic effect.

It came in waves, in silences, in sudden memories that pierced like pain.

A word Matthew used to say, a chair, a step in the yard, even the sound of the door could hurt.

Anne began to know that love makes ordinary things sacred.

And when the loved one is gone, those sacred things become sharp with remembrance.

* * *

At first Anne was troubled because she could not weep as she thought she ought to.

Her heart felt frozen, stunned by the greatness of the loss.

She feared that perhaps she was not grieving properly.

This fear added another pain to the pain she already carried.

Then, one night, the tears came.

They came suddenly, deeply, and without restraint.

Anne wept for Matthew’s kindness, his shy smiles, his quiet trust, and all the words he would never speak again.

She wept for the little girl he had first loved without question.

She wept for the man who had made Green Gables feel like home.

Marilla heard her and came to her.

For once, neither of them needed many words.

Their grief drew them together more closely than speech could have done.

Marilla held Anne, and Anne understood that they belonged to each other now more than ever.

* * *

In the days that followed, Green Gables seemed quieter than Anne had ever known it.

Matthew’s absence was everywhere.

It sat at the table, walked in the yard, and looked out from the barn door.

Anne could not pass his familiar places without feeling the ache return.

Yet daily life continued with its quiet demands.

Meals had to be prepared, chores had to be done, and decisions had to be faced.

The bank failure had left serious practical questions behind it.

Money, land, work, and the future of Green Gables could no longer be left to dreams.

Anne’s own future, so recently bright with Redmond, now stood under a shadow.

She did not yet know what would have to change.

But she felt that childhood had ended in one sharp stroke.

The world had become larger, but also harder.

* * *

Marilla, too, had begun to think of the future with fear.

Her eyesight had been troubling her more and more.

Without Matthew, the work of the farm and the burden of decisions seemed heavy.

She tried not to show all her anxiety to Anne.

But Anne had grown old enough to read silence.

She saw the lines of worry in Marilla’s face and the tiredness in her movements.

A new feeling rose in Anne, deeper than ambition.

It was the feeling of responsibility.

She had been loved, sheltered, guided, and believed in.

Now perhaps the time had come for her to give something back.

The thought was solemn, but not bitter.

It felt like a door opening into a harder kind of love.

* * *

Anne went one evening to the place where she could see the fields lying under the quiet sky.

The beauty of Avonlea was still there, but it had changed for her.

It was no longer only a place of dreams, names, and lovely fancies.

It was a place where people lived, worked, loved, suffered, and were lost.

This knowledge made the beauty sadder, but also more sacred.

Anne thought of Matthew’s gentle eyes and the way he had always believed in her.

She knew that his love would remain with her, even though his voice was gone.

That thought did not remove grief, but it gave grief a kind of light.

Perhaps love was not ended by death.

Perhaps it became part of the living heart and asked to be carried forward.

Anne stood very still, feeling older, sadder, and strangely stronger.

The reaper had passed through Green Gables.

But in the shadow he left behind, Anne began to understand the deep cost of love.

出典:Project Gutenberg『Anne of Green Gables』by L. M. Montgomery, CHAPTER XXXVII “The Reaper Whose Name Is Death” をもとに、英語学習用の英文・和訳・語句色分け形式に編集しています。

赤毛のアン

『赤毛のアン』英文/和訳 CHAPTER XXXVI 栄光と夢 『赤毛のアン』英文/和訳 CHAPTER XXXVIII 道の曲がり角