The same spectacle of horror greets us from both ships.
两条船迎接我们的是同样骇人的景象。
On their decks, reddened with blood, the murderers of St. Bartholomew and of the Sicilian Vespers, with the fires of Smithfield,
甲板被鲜血染红了，圣巴尔托洛繆和西西里晚祷大屠杀的刽子手手上拎着史密斯菲尔德火枪，
seem to break forth anew, and to concentrate their rage.
似乎要重新上演一场人间血案，将他们的狂怒集中到一起。
Each has now become a swimming Golgotha.
现在，每条船都成了在水上漂着的墓地。
At length, these vessels — such pageants of the sea — once so stately — so proudly built — but now rudely shattered by cannon balls,
最终，这些船——海上奇观——曾经那样庄严肃穆，如此巧夺天工的杰作，现在被炮弹炸得粉碎，
with shivered masts and ragged sails — exist only as unmanageable wrecks, weltering on the uncertain waves,
卷起的船桅和破布一般的船帆，仅剩难以控制的破坏，在吉凶难测的波浪上颠簸摇晃。
whose temporary lull of peace is now their only safety.
暂时的这段平静现在成了他们唯一的凭靠。
In amazement at this strange, unnatural contest — away from country and home — where there is no country or home to defend
这场奇异和不自然的搏斗带给人们莫大的惊异——远离故土和家园——在这里没有国家和家园需要守卫。
we ask again, wherefore this dismal duel?
我们不禁再一次发问，为什么会有这场凄凉的决斗？
Again the melancholy but truthful answer promptly comes, that this is the established method of determining justice between nations.
令人伤感但切中事实的答案马上就能得出，那就是这是确定国家之间司法权约定俗成的方式。
