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Everything about my tragedy has been hideous, mean, repellent, lacking in style[135a]. Our very dress makes us grotesques. We are the zanies of sorrow. We are clowns whose hearts are broken. We are specially designed to appeal to the sense of humour[135b]. On November 13th 1895 I was brought down here from London. [135.1]From two o'clock till half-past two on that day I had to stand on the centre platform of Clapham Junction in convict dress and handcuffed, for the world to look at. I had been taken out of the Hospital Ward without a moment’s notice being given to me. Of all possible objects I was the most grotesque[135c]. When people saw me they laughed. Each train as it came up swelled the audience. Nothing could exceed their amusement. That was of course before they knew who I was. As soon as they had been informed, they laughed still more. For half an hour I stood there in the grey November rain surrounded by a jeering mob[135d]. For a year after that was done to me I wept every day at the same hour and for the same space of time. That is not such a tragic thing as possibly it sounds to you. To those who are in prison, tears are a part of every day’s experience. A day in prison on which one does not weep is a day on which one’s heart is hard, not a day on which one’s heart is happy[135e].
我的悲剧点点滴滴都显得丑陋、低贱、令人反感、俚俗不堪[135a]。身上的衣服就叫我们变得又丑又怪了。我们成了悲怆的怪物、肝肠寸断的小丑，被特别装扮摆弄，来逗引人们的幽默感[135b]。1 8 9 5年1 1月1 3日，我从伦敦被带到这里。那天从两点到两点半，我得站在克列珀汉转换站的中央站台上，穿着囚衣戴着手铐，让天下人观看。一点也没预先通知，就把我从医院病房带出来。天上人间，那时就数我最丑最怪[135c]。人们看到我就笑。每来一班火车就增加一层观众。没什么比这更能逗他们乐了。这当然是在他们知道我是谁之前。等知道了之后，他们笑得更厉害了。我就这么半个小时地站在那里，冒着十一月的冷雨，面对一团讥笑连连的匹夫匹妇[135d]。在那次遭遇后的一年里，每天到了那个钟点，我都要哭，哭上同样长的那么一段时间。这事你听着也许不觉得有那么悲伤。对那些监狱中人，眼泪是每日必备的经历。在牢里，要有谁哪一天不哭，那是他的心硬了，而不是他的心喜了[135e]。
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