第一篇：(英語畢業(yè)論文)《警察與贊美詩》的功能文體分析

本科生畢業(yè)設(shè)計（論文）封面

（2016 屆）

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英語原創(chuàng)畢業(yè)論文參考選題(200個)

一、論文說明

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二、原創(chuàng)論文參考題目 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 中歐文化中英雄主義的比較分析——以《三國演義》和《荷馬史詩》為例 《玻璃動物園》中的逃避主義解讀 從《簡愛》的多譯本看中國兩性關(guān)系的變化 《玻璃動物園》中的逃避主義解讀 英漢“悲傷”情感隱喻認(rèn)知對比分析 對《斯佳麗》中生態(tài)女權(quán)主義的解讀 論教師的非語言行為在課堂教學(xué)中的作用 xx大學(xué)翻譯方向?qū)W生發(fā)展規(guī)劃 《傲慢與偏見》中英語反語的語用分析 簡愛性格研究 從電視劇《絕望主婦》看委婉語的交際功能 海明威“冰山原理”在《永別了，武器》中的應(yīng)用及對寫作的指導(dǎo)意義 13 從《金色筆記》看多麗絲萊辛的女性意識 14 從禮貌原則分析《飄》中人物性格 15 從十字軍東征看中世紀(jì)宗教沖突 哈克貝里·費恩與湯姆·索亞性格的對比分析 Analysis on Paul Morel’s Life Passages from the Perspective of Lawrence’s Unconscious 18 From Dormancy to Revival—A Feminist Study on Kate Chopin’s Awakening 19 國際貨物銷售合同的文體特征及翻譯 20 淺析《最藍(lán)的眼睛》中的敘事藝術(shù) 21 《喜宴》中反映出的中西文化差異 22 英漢狀語語序修辭對比與翻譯 從《在路上》解讀“垮掉的一代”時代背景與主題 24 英漢新聞?wù)Z篇概念隱喻對比研究 25 中國春節(jié)與美國圣誕節(jié)的文化比較 26 論《小鎮(zhèn)畸人》中人物的怪誕性 Joy Luck Club：Chinese Tradition under American Appreciation 28 網(wǎng)絡(luò)環(huán)境下小組合作學(xué)習(xí)模式研究 《羅密歐與朱麗葉》與《梁?！方Y(jié)局的文化對比研究 A Study of C-E Translation of Tourist Materials from the Perspective of Cross-culture 31 情景法在新概念英語教學(xué)中的應(yīng)用——以杭州新東方為例 32 Miss Havisham: an Imprisoned Woman in Great Expectations 33 淺析《獻(xiàn)給艾米莉的玫瑰》中漸漸消失的玫瑰 34 《白鯨》的象征意義和悲劇內(nèi)涵分析 35 淺談《當(dāng)幸福來敲門》中的美國個人主義 36 翻譯的對等性研究及其應(yīng)用 37 如何降低初中生英語課堂焦慮 38 從《無名的裘德》看哈代的現(xiàn)代性意識

卡特福德的等值翻譯理論與名詞化翻譯——以《入鄉(xiāng)隨俗》英譯漢為例 40 從審美視角分析中國古典詩詞的英譯

從跨文化交際角度看漢英基本顏色詞文化內(nèi)涵差異 42 《紅字》中的象征主義

解讀艾麗斯沃克的《日常用品》中的黑人女性文化 44 論《愛瑪》中簡奧斯丁的社會理想 45 The Tragic Color of Tender Is the Night 46 認(rèn)知語境在語言交際理解中的作用

霍爾頓的人生之旅－－《麥田里的守望者》之存在主義解讀 48 外教口語課堂中存在的問題及對策 49 從《簡愛》看知識改變女性命運

Cross-cultural Differences in Business Etiquette Between China and America 51 淺析隱藏在“面紗”之后的伯莎梅森 52 從薩丕爾-沃爾夫假說看中英諺語的文化意象

論初中英語教學(xué)中的情景創(chuàng)設(shè)

技術(shù)性貿(mào)易壁壘對中國外貿(mào)行業(yè)的影響—以CR法案為例 55 論翻譯的藝術(shù)

銜接理論在高中英語閱讀教學(xué)中的應(yīng)用 57 漢語公示語的英譯

論非言語交際行為與外語教師素質(zhì)的關(guān)系 59 電影《暮色》中人物對白的言語行為分析 60 中學(xué)生英語聽力障礙分析與對策 61 初中英語教學(xué)中開展游戲的積極作用 62 淺析《紅字》中的象征主義 63 跨文化交際中的中西方飲食文化差異 64 中英花卉隱喻下的情感敘事對比研究 65 從目的論的角度談商標(biāo)翻譯的原則及技巧 66

小學(xué)英語字母與漢語拼音字母教學(xué)比較研究 68 從合作原則的視角探析《神探夏洛克》人物話語風(fēng)格 69 試論英語詞匯教學(xué)中的詞塊教學(xué)

從痛苦中頓悟—《麥田里的守望者》成長主題解讀 71 The Painful Growth of Scarlett O’Hara in Her Three Marriages 72 從語用等效角度透析旅游景點名稱英譯 73 廣告翻譯中功能對等的研究 74 漢語公示語的英譯

移民影響下的美國文化特點分析 76 淺析眼神交流在非語言交際中的作用

An Analysis of Humor and Satire in Mark Twain's The Million Pound Note 78 英語商務(wù)信函的禮貌用語

Application of Cooperative Principles in the Study of Intercultural Business Negotiation 80 淺析《老人與?！泛汀逗Ｉ媳庵邸分腥伺c自然的關(guān)系 81 試析《霧都孤兒》中的浪漫主義色彩

A Study on the Translation of News Headlines from English Into Chinese

現(xiàn)代社會的荒誕性——從黑色幽默解讀《毛猿》 84 論《皮格馬利翁》的結(jié)局

從會話合作原則透析英語情景喜劇《生活大爆炸》幽默的產(chǎn)生

黑色孤島上的灰色母親—從黑人女性主義角度解讀《寵兒》中的母女關(guān)系 87 中學(xué)英語教學(xué)大綱與課程標(biāo)準(zhǔn)的比較研究 88 《小城畸人》里的象征主義手法分析 89 原版英語電影在大學(xué)英語教學(xué)中的使用研究 90 Color Words in Chinese and Western Literature 91 中英酒吧文化對比

影響二語習(xí)得的因素－－案例研究 93 《老人與?！废笳髦髁x探究

從《羅密歐與朱麗葉》與《孔雀東南飛》分析中英愛情觀異同 95 從跨文化交際的發(fā)展看西方飲食文化對中國飲食文化的影響 96 個人主義在美國社會中的嬗變歷程分析 97 英語電影片名的漢譯要求及賞析 98 禮貌用語中的語用失誤

An Analysis of the Main Characters in Twilight-eclipse 100 影視英文在初中口語教學(xué)中的運用性研究 101 《紅樓夢》中座次表達(dá)的英譯比較

英語文學(xué)作品與改編電影的差異——以 《傲慢與偏見》及其版改編電影為例 103 從文化角度談商標(biāo)的中英互譯

由女性“奴性”潛意識解析瑪利婭姆多舛命運 105 Sense and Sensibility in Jane Austen’s Persuasion 106 “美國夢”的破滅——《了不起的蓋茨比》中的象征 107 《簡愛》與《呼嘯山莊》女主人公比較分析 108 英語汽車商標(biāo)的翻譯策略

拉爾夫埃里森《隱形人》中的凝視與自我建構(gòu) 110

從大學(xué)校訓(xùn)看中西方大學(xué)文化差異 112 從《嘉莉妹妹》看現(xiàn)代女性的自我實現(xiàn)

A Comparison of the English Color Terms 114 命運與性格－－淺論《哈姆雷特》的悲劇因素 115 《虹》中的女性婚姻觀淺析 116 中英文數(shù)字文化對比及其翻譯 117 從女性主義視角看幽默翻譯

從語境視角看英譯漢字幕翻譯——以《梅林傳奇》為例 119 功能對等理論在中文菜單翻譯中的應(yīng)用 120 An Analysis of Sexism in English Advertisements 121 《生活大爆炸》言語幽默語用分析

從《看得見風(fēng)景的房間》看女性身份的遺失和找尋 123 漢英親屬稱謂詞的文化差異及翻譯

A Contrastive Analysis of Chinese and English Euphemisms for Death from the Perspective of Culture 125 《動物農(nóng)莊》中的象征意義研究

一個自我矛盾的精神世界—《達(dá)洛衛(wèi)夫人》中的對照與一致 127 淺析英語委婉語

《女勇士》中美國華裔身份危機(jī)的探尋

美國拓荒運動中的新女性形象－－讀威拉凱瑟《我的安東妮婭》 130 《簡愛》中的人文主義思想述評

析《傲慢與偏見》中達(dá)西的性格及人物形象 132 A Comparison of the English Color Terms 133 中西文化中顏色詞的象征意義 134 《玻璃動物園》中的逃避主義解讀

從康妮的視角分析《查特萊夫人的情人》中勞倫斯的性愛觀 136 反復(fù)在格特魯?shù)滤固┮虻淖髌贰度齻€女人》中的運用 137 《楚門的世界》中的黑色幽默 138 淺析隱藏在“面紗”之后的伯莎梅森 139 論英語中的漢語借詞及其影響 140 英語電影片名的翻譯策略與方法 141 淺析華茲華斯詩歌中的自然觀

On the Character of Scarlett O’Hara and the Transition of American Society 143 《紅字》中霍桑的女性觀

戰(zhàn)爭、歸鄉(xiāng)、愛情—《冷山》的多元主題研究 145 《貴婦的畫像》的過渡性特征的分析研究

探究瓦爾登湖的積極現(xiàn)實意義——倡導(dǎo)和諧生存發(fā)展模式

Study on Characteristics of American Black English from Social Perspectives 148 淺析隱藏在“面紗”之后的伯莎梅森 149 淺析跨文化交際中的文化休克現(xiàn)象及對策 150 高中英語互動式課堂教學(xué)模式研究 151 少兒英語學(xué)習(xí)中的情感因素分析

152 Research on the Expression of the Speaker’s Intention in English and Chinese Conversation 153 從依戀理論看《呼嘯山莊》主人公希斯克利夫悲劇性格的形成

154 影響高中學(xué)生英語學(xué)習(xí)興趣因素的調(diào)查及分析—以x市高中學(xué)生為調(diào)查對象 155 從“他者”到“自我”的轉(zhuǎn)變——從女性主義角度看《賣花女》 156 從功能理論角度分析電影《點球成金》字幕翻譯 157 Sexism in English Language 158 英語單詞記憶中存在的主要問題和解決方法

159 A Preliminary Survey of Translating San in Chinese Idioms 160 中美時間觀差異對跨文化交際的影響 161 淺探籃球文化的理論構(gòu)建

162 淺析隱藏在“面紗”之后的伯莎梅森 163 析喬治艾略特在《織工馬南》中的語言特色 164 《玻璃動物園》中的逃避主義解讀 165 英語電影片名的漢譯研究 166 英語新聞標(biāo)題的前景化

167 An Analysis of Symbols in The Great Gatsby 168 從小飛俠彼得潘淺析詹姆斯巴里的悲劇人生 169 中西方酒店文化比較與探討

170 A Comparative Study on Metaphors of FIRE between English and Chinese from a

Cognitive Perspective 171 《生活大爆炸》言語幽默語用分析（開題報告+論）172 論“迷惘的一代”－－以海明威為個案

173 從合作原則談影視翻譯策略——以《功夫熊貓》為例 174 野性的回歸－－試析《野性的呼喚》中巴克的生存斗爭 175 言語行為理論視角下的商務(wù)索賠信函話語分析 176 論《冰與火之歌》中角色視點手法的運用 177 試析跨文化交流中文化休克現(xiàn)象及對策 178 英語法律文本翻譯原則

179 談英語教學(xué)中導(dǎo)入文化背景知識的必要性

180 相同的追求，不同的命運——《紅樓夢》中的林黛玉和《傲慢與偏見》中的伊麗莎白比較

181 對兒子與情人中俄狄浦斯情結(jié)的分析 182 從《喜福會》母女代溝看中西文化沖突 183 沃爾特惠特曼的民主觀解讀

184 歸化與異化在《老友記》字幕翻譯中的運用 185 意象手法在《永別了，武器》中的使用 186 論企業(yè)對員工過度壓力的管理 187 通過巴絲謝芭看哈代的宿命論 188 從文化差異的角度看習(xí)語的翻譯

189 解讀《嘉莉妹妹》中幾位男性對嘉莉妹妹的人生影響 190 論《覺醒》中艾德娜女性意識的覺醒 191 苔絲死之謎

192 有關(guān)小學(xué)雙語教學(xué)現(xiàn)狀及實施問題分析 193 《格列佛游記》對理性的反思與批判 194 中英花卉隱喻下的情感敘事對比研究 195 論《紅字》中海斯特的女性主義

196 “一只陷入囹圄的小鳥”——苔絲的悲劇命運分析 197 男女生英語學(xué)習(xí)差異比較研究

198 現(xiàn)代倫理和俄狄浦斯情結(jié)的沖突－－淺析勞倫斯作品《兒子與情人》

199 從《老人與?！房春Ｃ魍挠矟h精神 200 A Comparison of the English Color Terms

第二篇：警察與贊美詩英語 原文分析

Original Text

The Cop and the Anthem

by O.Henry1 On his bench in Madison Square Soapy moved uneasily.When wild goose honk high of nights, and when women without sealskin coats grow kind to their husbands, and when Soapy moves uneasily on his bench in the park, you may know that winter is near at hand.A dead leaf fell in Soapy’s lap.That was Jack Frost’s card.Jack is kind to the regular denizens of Madison Square, and gives fair warning of his annual call.At the corners of streets his four hands his pasteboard to the North Wind, footman of the mansion of All Outdoors, so that the inhabitants there of may make ready.Soapy’s mind became cognisant of the fact that the time had come for him to resolve himself into a singular Committee of Ways and Means to provide against the coming rigour.And therefore he moved uneasily on his bench.The hibernatorial ambitions of Soapy were not of the highest.In them were no considerations of Mediterranean cruises, of soporific Southern skies or drifting in the Vesuvian Bay.Three months on the Island was what his soul craved.Three months of assured board and bed and congenial company, safe from Boreas and bluecoats, seemed to Soapy the essence of things desirable.For years the hospitable Blackwell’s had been his winter quarters.Just as his more fortunate fellow New Yorkers had bought their tickets to annual hegira to the Island.And now the time was come.On the previous night three Sabbath newspapers, distributed beneath his coat, about his ankles and over his lap, had failed to repulse the cold as he slept on his bench near the spurting fountain in the ancient square.So the Island loomed large and timely in Soapy’s mind.He scorned the provisions made in the name of charity for the city’s dependents.In Soapy’s opinion the Law was more benign than Philanthropy.There was an endless round of institutions, municipal and eleemosynary, on which he might set out and receive lodging and food accordant with the simple life.But to one of Soapy’s proud spirit the gifts of charity are encumbered.If not in coin you must pay in humiliation of spirit for every benefit received at the its toll of a bath, every loaf of bread its compensation of a private and personal inquisition.Wherefore it is better to be a guest of the law, which though conducted by rules, does not meddle unduly with a gentleman’s private affairs.Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once set about accomplishing his desire.There were many easy ways of doing this.The pleasantest was to dine luxuriously at some expensive restaurant;and then, after declaring insolvency, be handed over quietly and without uproar to a policeman.An accommodating

magistrate would do the rest.Soapy left his bench and strolled out of the square and across the level sea of asphalt, where Broadway and Fifth Avenue flow together.Up Broadway he turned, and halted at a glittering café, where are gathered together nightlySoapy had confidence in himself from the lowest button of his vest upward.He was shaven, and his coat was decent and his neat black, ready-tied four-in-hand had been presented to him by a lady missionary on Thanksgiving Day.If he could reach a table in the restaurant unsuspected, success would be his.The portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiter’s mind.A roasted mallard duck, thought Soapy, would be about the thing—with a bottle of Chablis, and then Camembert, a demi-tasse and a cigar.One dollar for the cigar would be enough.The total would not be so high as to call forth any supreme manifestation of revenge from the café management;and yet the meat would leave him filled and happy for the journey to his winter refuge.9 But as Soapy set foot inside the restaurant door the head waiter’s eye fell upon his frayed trousers and decadent shoes.Strong and ready hands turned him about and conveyed him in silence and haste to the sidewalk and averted the ignoble fate of the menaced mallard.Soapy turned off Broadway.It seemed that his route to the coveted island was not to be an epicurean one.Some other way of entering limbo must be thought of.At a corner of Sixth Avenue electric lights and cunningly displayed wares behind plate-glass made a shop window conspicuous.Soapy took a cobble-stone and dashed it through the glass.People came running round the corner, a policeman in the lead.Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled12“Where’s the man that done that?” inquired the officer excitedly.“Don’t you figure out that I might have had something to do with it?” said Soapy, not without sarcasm, but friendly, as one greets good fortune.The policeman’s mind refused to accept Soapy even as a clue.Men who smash windows do not remain to parley with the law’s minions.They take to their heels.The policeman saw a man halfway down the block running to catch a car.With drawn club he joined in the pursuit.Soapy, with disgust in his heart, loafed along, twice unsuccessful.On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant of no great pretensions.It catered to large appetites and modest purses.Its crockery and atmosphere were thick;its soup and napery thin.Into this place Soapy took his accusive shoes and tell-tale trousers without challenge.At a table he sat and consumed beefsteak, flap-jacks, doughnuts, and pie.And then to the waiter he betrayed the fact that the minutest coin and himself were strangers.“Now, get busy and call a cop,” said Soapy.“And don’t keep a gentleman

waiting.”“No cop for youse,” said the waiter, with a voice like butter cakes and an eye like the cherry in a Manhattan cocktail.“Hey, Con!”Neatly upon his left ear on the callous pavement two waiters pitched Soapy.He arose, joint by joint, as a carpenter’s rule opens, and beat the dust from his clothes.Arrest seemed but a rosy dream.The Island seemed very far away.A policeman who stood before a drug store two doors away laughed and walked down the street.Five blocks Soapy travelled before his courage permitted him to woo capture again.This time the opportunity presented what he fatuously termed to himself a “cinch.” A young woman of a modest and pleasing guise was standing before a show window gazing with sprightly interest at its display of shaving mugs and inkstands, and two yards from the window a large policeman of severe demeanour leaned against a water-plug.It was Soapy’s design to assume the rule of the despicable and execrated “masher.” The refined and elegant appearance of his victim and the contiguity of the conscientious cop encouraged him to believe that he would soon feel the pleasant official clutch upon his arm that would ensure his winter quarters of the right little, tight little isle.Soapy straightened the lady missionary’s ready-made tie, dragged his shrinking cuffs into the open, set his hat at a killing cant and sidled toward the young women.He made eyes at her, was taken with sudden coughs and “hems,” smiled, smirked, and went brazenly through the impudent and contemptible litany of the “masher.” With half an eye Soapy saw that the policeman was watching him fixedly.The young woman moved away a few steps, and again bestowed her absorbed attention upon the shaving mugs.Soapy followed, boldly stepping to her side, raised his hat and said: “Ah there, Bedelia!Don’t you want to come and play in my yard?”The policeman was still looking.The persecuted young woman had but to beckon a finger and Soapy would be practically en route for his insular haven.Already he imagined he could feel the cosy warmth of the station-house.The young woman faced him and, stretching out a hand, caught Soapy’s coat sleeve.“Sure, Mike,” she said joyfully, “if you’ll blow me to a pail of suds.I’d have spoke to you sooner, but the cop was watching.”

With the young woman playing the clinging ivy to his oak Soapy walked past the policeman overcome with gloom.He seemed doomed to liberty.At the next corner he shook off his companion and ran.He halted in the district where by night are found the lightest streets, hearts, vows, and librettos.Women in furs and men in greatcoats moved gaily in the wintry air.A sudden fear seized Soapy that some dreadful enchantment had rendered him immune to arrest.The thought brought a little of panic upon it, and when he came upon another

policeman lounging grandly in front of a transplendent theatre he caught at the immediate straw of “disorderly conduct.”O(jiān)n the sidewalk Soapy began to yell drunken gibberish at the top of his harsh voice.He danced, howled, raved, and otherwise disturbed the welkin.The policeman twirled his club, turned his back to Soapy and remarked to a citizen: “Tis one of them Yale lads celebratin’ the goose egg they give to the Hartford College.Noisy;but no harm.We’ve instructions to lave them be.”Disconsolate, Soapy ceased his unavailing racket.Would never a policeman lay hands on him? In his fancy the Island seemed an unattainable Arcadia.He buttoned his thin coat against the chilling wind.In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man lighting a cigar at a swinging light.His silk umbrella he had set by the door on entering.Soapy stepped inside, secured the umbrella and sauntered off with it slowly.The man at the cigar light followed hastily.“My umbrella,” he said sternly.“Oh, is it?” sneered Soapy, adding insult to petit larceny.“Well, why don’t you call a policeman? I took it.Your umbrella!Why don’t you call a cop? There stands one on the corner.”The umbrella owner slowed his steps.Soapy did likewise, with a presentiment that luck would run against him.The policeman looked at the two curiously.31“Of course,” said the umbrella man—“that is—well, you know how these mistakes occur—I—if it’s your umbrella I hope you’ll excuse me—I picked it up this morning in a restaurant—If you recognise it as yours, why—I hope you’ll—“32 “Of course it’s mine,” said Soapy viciously.33 The ex-umbrella man retreated.The policeman hurried to assist a tall blonde in an opera cloak across the street in front of a street car that was approaching two blocks away.34 Soapy walked eastward through a street damaged by improvements.He hurled the umbrella wrathfully into an excavation.He muttered against the men who wear helmets and carry clubs.Because he wanted to fall into their clutches, they seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.35 At length Soapy reached one of the avenues to the east where the glitter and turmoil was but faint.He set his face down this toward Madison Square, for the homing instinct survives even when the home is a park bench.36 But on an unusually quiet corner Soapy came to a standstill.Here was an old church, quaint and rambling and gabled.Through one violet-stained window a soft light glowed, where, no doubt, the organist loitered over the keys, making sure of his mastery of the coming Sabbath anthem.For there drifted out to Soapy’s ears sweet music that caught and held him transfixed against the convolutions of the iron fence.37 The moon was above, lustrous and serene;vehicles and pedestrains were few;sparrows twittered sleepily in the eaves—for a little while the scene might

have been a country churchyard.And the anthem that the organist played cemented Soapy to the iron fence, for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions and friends and immaculate thoughts and collars.38 The conjunction of Soapy’s receptive state of mind and the influences about the old church wrought a sudden and wonderful change in his soul.He viewed with swift horror the pit into which he had tumbled, the degraded days, unworthy desires, dead hopes, wrecked faculties, and base motives that made up his existence.39 And also in a moment his heart responded thrillingly to this novel mood.An instantaneous and strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate.He would pull himself out of the mire;he would make a man of himself again;he would conquer the evil that had taken possession of him.There was time;he was comparatively young yet;he would resurrect his old eager ambitions and pursue them without faltering.Those solemn but sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him.Tomorrow he would go into the roaring down-town district and find work.A fur importer had once offered him a place as driver.He would find him to-morrow and ask for the position.He would be somebody in the world.He would—

Soapy felt a hand laid on his arm.He looked quickly round into the broad face of a policeman.41 “What are you doin’ here?” asked the officer.42 “Nothing’,” said Soapy.43“Then come along,” said the policeman.44“Three months on the Island,” said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.

第三篇：警察與贊美詩 分析

小說的結(jié)構(gòu)，一般按故事的幾個階段安排，分為開端、發(fā)展、高潮、結(jié)局幾個部分

1)故事開端(蘇比躺在麥迪生廣場他那條長凳上——自有位識相的推事來料理)，蘇比為逃脫嚴(yán)冬的威脅，籌劃著怎樣才能被捕入獄。

2)故事發(fā)展(蘇比離開長凳——而我們偏偏認(rèn)為他是個永遠(yuǎn)不會犯錯誤的國王)，蘇比屢次惹是生非，都沒有達(dá)到被捕入獄的目的。

3)故事高潮(最后，蘇比來到通往東區(qū)的一條馬路上——“那你跟我來。”警察說)。蘇比佇立于教堂外良心發(fā)現(xiàn)，決心重新做人時，突然被捕。

4)故事結(jié)局(小說最后一自然段)，蘇比被判入獄三個月。

蘇比在絞盡腦汁，費盡心機(jī)后，做出了6次惡行，以求落入法網(wǎng)，每次的結(jié)果如何？

行為/打算/結(jié)果

1．走進(jìn)豪華飯店/想白吃之后被關(guān)監(jiān)獄/ 因褲子破被推到人行道上

2．用石頭砸櫥窗/想借此被捕/警察認(rèn)為他不是肇事者

3．飽餐一頓不給錢 /想借此被捕 /侍者沒喊警察把他推到人行道上。

4．扮演一個小流氓 /調(diào)戲年輕女子 /反被女子糾纏，他撒腿走開

5．在劇院門口大吵大鬧 /想以“擾亂罪”被捕/警察沒有理睬

6．蘇比跨進(jìn)煙店拿傘 /要被偷者喊警察 /撿者把傘讓給了他

第四篇：警察與贊美詩英語原文[推薦]

英語原文

The Cop and the Anthemby O。Henry

On his bench in Madison Square Soapy moved uneasily.When wild goose honk high of nights, and when women without sealskin coats grow kind to their husbands, and when Soapy moves uneasily on his bench in the park, you may know that winter is near at hand.A dead leaf fell in Soapy’s lap.That was Jack Frost’s card.Jack is kind to the regular denizens of Madison Square, and gives fair warning of his annual call.At the corners of four streets he hands his pasteboard to the North Wind, footman of the mansion of All Outdoors, so that the inhabitants thereof may make ready.Soapy’s mind became cognisant of the fact that the time had come for him to resolve himself into a singular Committee of Ways and Means to provide against the coming rigour.And therefore he moved uneasily on his bench.The hibernatorial ambitions of Soapy were not of the highest.In them were no considerations of Mediterranean cruises, of soporific Southern skies or drifting in the Vesuvian Bay.Three months on the Island was what his soul craved.Three months of assured board and bed and congenial company, safe from Boreas and bluecoats, seemed to Soapy the essence of things desirable.For years the hospitable Blackwell’s had been his winter quarters.Just as his more fortunate fellow New Yorkers had bought their tickets to Palm Beach and the Riviera each winter, so Soapy had made his humble arrangements for his annual hegira to the Island.And now the time was come.On the previous night three Sabbath newspapers, distributed beneath his coat, about his ankles and over his lap, had failed to repulse the cold as he slept on his bench near the spurting fountain in the ancient square.So the Island loomed large and timely in Soapy’s mind.He scorned the provisions made in the name of charity for the city’s dependents.In Soapy’s opinion the Law was more benign than Philanthropy.There was an endless round of institutions, municipal and eleemosynary, on which he might set out and receive lodging and food accordant with the simple life.But to one of Soapy’s proud spirit the gifts of charity are encumbered.If not in coin you must pay in humiliation of spirit for every benefit received at the hands of philanthropy.As Cesar had his Brutus, every bed of charity must have its toll of a bath, every loaf of bread its compensation of a private and personal inquisition.Wherefore it is better to be a guest of the law, which though conducted by rules, does not meddle unduly with a gentleman’s private affairs.Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once set about accomplishing his desire.There were many easy ways of doing this.The pleasantest was to dine luxuriously at some expensive restaurant;and then, after declaring insolvency, be handed over quietly and without uproar to a policeman.An accommodating magistrate would do the rest.Soapy left his bench and strolled out of the square and across the level sea of asphalt, where Broadway and Fifth Avenue flow together.Up Broadway he turned, and halted at a glittering café, where are gathered together nightly the choicest products of the grape, the silkworm and the protoplasm.Soapy had confidence in himself from the lowest button of his vest upward.He was shaven, and his coat was decent and his neat black, ready-tied four-in-hand had been presented to him by a lady missionary on Thanksgiving Day.If he could reach a table in the restaurant unsuspected, success would be his.The portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiter’s mind.A roasted mallard duck, thought Soapy, would be about the thing—with a bottle

of Chablis, and then Camembert, a demi-tasse and a cigar.One dollar for the cigar would be enough.The total would not be so high as to call forth any supreme manifestation of revenge from the café management;and yet the meat would leave him filled and happy for the journey to his winter refuge.But as Soapy set foot inside the restaurant door the head waiter’s eye fell upon his frayed trousers and decadent shoes.Strong and ready hands turned him about and conveyed him in silence and haste to the sidewalk and averted the ignoble fate of the menaced mallard.Soapy turned off Broadway.It seemed that his route to the coveted island was not to be an epicurean one.Some other way of entering limbo must be thought of.At a corner of Sixth Avenue electric lights and cunningly displayed wares behind plate-glass made a shop window conspicuous.Soapy took a cobble-stone and dashed it through the glass.People came running round the corner, a policeman in the lead.Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of brass buttons.“Where’s the man that done that?” inquired the officer excitedly.“Don’t you figure out that I might have had something to do with it?” said Soapy, not without sarcasm, but friendly, as one greets good fortune.The policeman’s mind refused to accept Soapy even as a clue.Men who smash windows do not remain to parley with the law’s minions.They take to their heels.The policeman saw a man halfway down the block running to catch a car.With drawn club he joined in the pursuit.Soapy, with disgust in his heart, loafed along, twice unsuccessful.On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant of no great pretensions.It catered to large appetites and modest purses.Its crockery and atmosphere were thick;its soup and napery thin.Into this place Soapy took his accusive shoes and tell-tale trousers without challenge.At a table he sat and consumed beefsteak, flap-jacks, doughnuts, and pie.And then to the waiter he betrayed the fact that the minutest coin and himself were strangers.“Now, get busy and call a cop,” said Soapy.“And don’t keep a gentleman waiting.”

“No cop for youse,” said the waiter, with a voice like butter cakes and an eye like the cherry in a Manhattan cocktail.“Hey, Con!”

Neatly upon his left ear on the callous pavement two waiters pitched Soapy.He arose, joint by joint, as a carpenter’s rule opens, and beat the dust from his clothes.Arrest seemed but a rosy dream.The Island seemed very far away.A policeman who stood before a drug store two doors away laughed and walked down the street.Five blocks Soapy travelled before his courage permitted him to woo capture again.This time the opportunity presented what he fatuously termed to himself a “cinch.” A young woman of a modest and pleasing guise was standing before a show window gazing with sprightly interest at its display of shaving mugs and inkstands, and two yards from the window a large policeman of severe demeanour leaned against a water-plug.It was Soapy’s design to assume the rule of the despicable and execrated “masher.” The refined and elegant appearance of his victim and the contiguity of the conscientious cop encouraged him to believe that he would soon feel the pleasant official clutch upon his arm that would ensure his winter quarters of the right little, tight little isle.Soapy straightened the lady missionary’s ready-made tie, dragged his shrinking cuffs into the open, set his hat at a killing cant and sidled toward the young women.He made eyes at her, was taken with sudden coughs and “hems,” smiled, smirked, and went brazenly through the impudent

and contemptible litany of the “masher.” With half an eye Soapy saw that the policeman was watching him fixedly.The young woman moved away a few steps, and again bestowed her absorbed attention upon the shaving mugs.Soapy followed, boldly stepping to her side, raised his hat and said: “Ah there, Bedelia!Don’t you want to come and play in my yard?”

The policeman was still looking.The persecuted young woman had but to beckon a finger and Soapy would be practically en route for his insular haven.Already he imagined he could feel the cosy warmth of the station-house.The young woman faced him and, stretching out a hand, caught Soapy’s coat sleeve.“Sure, Mike,” she said joyfully, “if you’ll blow me to a pail of suds.I’d have spoke to you sooner, but the cop was watching.”

With the young woman playing the clinging ivy to his oak Soapy walked past the policeman overcome with gloom.He seemed doomed to liberty.At the next corner he shook off his companion and ran.He halted in the district where by night are found the lightest streets, hearts, vows, and librettos.Women in furs and men in greatcoats moved gaily in the wintry air.A sudden fear seized Soapy that some dreadful enchantment had rendered him immune to arrest.The thought brought a little of panic upon it, and when he came upon another policeman lounging grandly in front of a transplendent theatre he caught at the immediate straw of “disorderly conduct.”

On the sidewalk Soapy began to yell drunken gibberish at the top of his harsh voice.He danced, howled, raved, and otherwise disturbed the welkin.The policeman twirled his club, turned his back to Soapy and remarked to a citizen: “’Tis one of them Yale lads celebratin’ the goose egg they give to the Hartford College.Noisy;but no harm.We’ve instructions to lave them be.”

Disconsolate, Soapy ceased his unavailing racket.Would never a policeman lay hands on him? In his fancy the Island seemed an unattainable Arcadia.He buttoned his thin coat against the chilling wind.In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man lighting a cigar at a swinging light.His silk umbrella he had set by the door on entering.Soapy stepped inside, secured the umbrella and sauntered off with it slowly.The man at the cigar light followed hastily.“My umbrella,” he said sternly.“Oh, is it?” sneered Soapy, adding insult to petit larceny.“Well, why don’t you call a policeman? I took it.Your umbrella!Why don’t you call a cop? There stands one on the corner.”The umbrella owner slowed his steps.Soapy did likewise, with a presentiment that luck would run against him.The policeman looked at the two curiously.“Of course,” said the umbrella man—“that is—well, you know how these mistakes occur—I—if it’s your umbrella I hope you’ll excuse me—I picked it up this morning in a restaurant—If you recognise it as yours, why—I hope you’ll—“

“Of course it’s mine,” said Soapy viciously.The ex-umbrella man retreated.The policeman hurried to assist a tall blonde in an opera cloak across the street in front of a street car that was approaching two blocks away.Soapy walked eastward through a street damaged by improvements.He hurled the umbrella wrathfully into an excavation.He muttered against the men who wear helmets and carry clubs.Because he wanted to fall into their clutches, they seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.At length Soapy reached one of the avenues to the east where the glitter and turmoil was but faint.He set his face down this toward Madison Square, for the homing instinct survives even when the home is a park bench.But on an unusually quiet corner Soapy came to a standstill.Here was an old church, quaint and rambling and gabled.Through one violet-stained window a soft light glowed, where, no doubt, the organist loitered over the keys, making sure of his mastery of the coming Sabbath anthem.For there drifted out to Soapy’s ears sweet music that caught and held him transfixed against the convolutions of the iron fence.The moon was above, lustrous and serene;vehicles and pedestrains were few;sparrows twittered sleepily in the eaves—for a little while the scene might have been a country churchyard.And the anthem that the organist played cemented Soapy to the iron fence, for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions and friends and immaculate thoughts and collars.The conjunction of Soapy’s receptive state of mind and the influences about the old church wrought a sudden and wonderful change in his soul.He viewed with swift horror the pit into which he had tumbled, the degraded days, unworthy desires, dead hopes, wrecked faculties, and base motives that made up his existence.And also in a moment his heart responded thrillingly to this novel mood.An instantaneous and strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate.He would pull himself out of the mire;he would make a man of himself again;he would conquer the evil that had taken possession of him.There was time;he was comparatively young yet;he would resurrect his old eager ambitions and pursue them without faltering.Those solemn but sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him.Tomorrow he would go into the roaring down-town district and find work.A fur importer had once offered him a place as driver.He would find him to-morrow and ask for the position.He would be somebody in the world.He would—

Soapy felt a hand laid on his arm.He looked quickly round into the broad face of a policeman.“What are you doin’ here?” asked the officer.“Nothing’,” said Soapy.“Then come along,” said the policeman.“Three months on the Island,” said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.

第五篇：警察與贊美詩英語讀后感

When people really want to do it, God just happens to mean the beginning, and go back on, shameless the.

Undeniably, the opportunity is the wait for anyone, it is not passive, not waiting for you to analyze, analyze it, consider this, consider that a series of trivial events, and then decided to do it.Perhaps it is itself a fleeting Wizard, which is the test of courage and guts, wisdom and soul.It does not mean that all things should not be thoughtful, careful Clofibrate conduct, and if so, what we were in ancient times? Of course, opportunity and a need to treasure, you need to take advantage of, opportunities have come across are very difficult to fully and thoroughly to take advantage of, but it is difficult.How to better perfect it is a priority.The policeman, not a claim has been given many opportunities than it? The cable does not do this than to understand what, just keep endlessly kept in mind for his so-called target to continue to play a life, clown, never tired.And lucky him, the total in the stage has written slip, but in the end was as a joke, laughed.A drama in the end, which means another Drama begins.The police is concerned, only to routine;on the reader, but near the end;of life is concerned, only a small episode;of the writer is concerned, it is a good plot;on the audience, the only worthy of a ticket;on Soapy, it is a new idea of life close to, for he had the ignorance to pay, value is what he does not escape from his hand, he may be able to reverse the fate of the Opportunity and its contempt for the lessons learned in the final result.If he will blame anyone, so that he does deserve it;if he can only blame himself, then he can say to yourself out loud: Three months, not too long, I will cherish and seize the time each day.well, in fact, did not run away, but I ignored.wait for it

Well, in fact, did not go far.Yes, a lot of happiness to dominate, the opportunity is one of them.Do not wait until God impatient, after all, he has emotions, give you played rough, then, as if too lacking in human touch of the.But their suffering.Cherish the people or things around them, they change every day, but we are too busy, did not see.Opportunity is like a chance encounter, a good thing.Take advantage of, the benefits of it to play the extreme, it is a beauty thing.A person"s life will be all sorts of conditions, each of the significance of the situation is very different, very different.Select a different situation, a different life, a different fate, a different change So, we have to opportunity, transparent, fully see, so that would not go astray friends.If the contrary, the outcome would be like Soapy: horror, realize that they have plunged into the abyss, the fallen years, shameful desire, despair, only poor intellectual exhaustion, motivation despicable.Not grasp the opportunity to meet, are fools;not met but know how to grasp opportunities is talent;both opportunities and understanding of how the event is a genius.