《时间机器》TheTimeMachine
《时间机器》(The Time Machine)200字读后感
《时间机器》（The Time Machine）200字读后感《时间机器》是赫伯特·乔治·威尔斯的经典科幻小说，通过主人公使用的时间机器展示了对时间旅行的奇妙探索。
这部作品不仅开创了科幻文学的先河，更深刻地反映了作者对时间、社会和人类命运的独到见解。
主人公使用时间机器，穿越到了未来的地球，发现了两个截然不同的文明：良善的丽萨族和食人的莫洛克族。
这对比揭示了时间对社会演变的影响，引发读者对未来发展的深刻思考。
威尔斯通过小说中设想的未来景象，提出了对人类文明进化和衰退的悲观猜想。
作为时间旅行的先驱，威尔斯对科技与社会关系进行了前瞻性的探讨。
时间机器的发明不仅是一种科学幻想，更是对人类对未知的好奇心和对未来的探索欲望的体现。
这引发了对科技发展和人类文明进步的深刻反思。
小说中的时间旅行也成为一种哲学的载体，让人们思考时间的流逝对生命和社会的影响。
主人公在时间的洪流中看到了人类文明的兴衰，这对时间、生命和社会的关系进行了深刻的思考。
威尔斯通过小说中的探险，唤起了读者对时间和人类历史的深刻思索。
总的来说，《时间机器》是一部充满科学幻想和哲学思考的作品。
威尔斯通过时间旅行的故事，展示了对未来的独到洞察和对科技与社会关系的深刻反思。
这部小说不仅仅是一场时间旅行的冒险，更是对人类存在、时间流逝和未来命运的深刻探讨。
《时间机器》TheTimeMachine
the time machinebyjohn loganfebruary 22, 2000int. columbia university - lecture hall - daydarkness. then a sound…click-clack, click-clack, click-clack…the familiar sound of chalk writing on a blackboard.fade up to see…a hand zooming across a blackboard at incredible speed, forming an endless algebraic equation.amazingly, when the writer reaches the end of the blackboard he does not lift the chalk and return to the left side to begin a new line — instead he simply loops around and continues writing, right to left, upside down.the college students in his class — all male and dressed in late victorian clothes — smile at this familiar peculiarity and tilt their heads to try and read the endless equation, copying furiously into notebooks.the hand continues to zoom along the blackboard… and then slows… and then stops… the students wait… the hand taps the chalk on the blackboard for a moment and we finally see…alexander hartdegen, a handsome young man not much older than his students, standing at the blackboard. he is gazing out a window, looking at a bird on a tree branch. he smiles.the students glance to one another.alexander remembers himself and turns back to the blackboard, his hand again flying as:alexanderso — length, width, breadth —formulate the area and of course wearrive at solid mass. but imagineif we continue the equation as i’vedone —can’t we begin to recognizeanother dimension beyond the firstthree? i theorize we begin to findduration —the object’s place intime. let’s note that as ‘d’here…alexander reaches the left side of the blackboard and loops around again in an unbroken line to continue the equation from left to right again.the students are hopelessly lost. they finally stop copying and just watch alexander work, admiring his brilliant innovation.meanwhile, a man watches from the back of the lecture hall. he is david philby, alexander’s closest friend, a bit older. alexander… if we accept the theoreticalpossibility of duration as a fourthdimension we find that our equationmight —no, that’s not right —he erases some numbers quickly with his hand, sending up a cloud of chalk dust, he coughs.alexander— there, that looks more likeit…he continues to scribble at lightning speed. then…he begins humming to himself.the students watch, amused. philby smiles.alexander finally stops humming and writing. steps back and looks at the equation. then he turns to his students. alexanderdoes this make any sense to you?the students are confused. one offers:studentsir, if i may, wouldn’t it beeasier if you applied a fibonaccisequence to the differentialcoefficient?alexander(smiles)it’s not supposed to be easy, it’ssupposed to be beautiful… all ofyou think about that tonight andwe’ll press on tomorrow. goodafternoon.the students begin to rise, class over. they leave the classroom talking eagerly about alexander’s theories, inspired.a sudden new angle: from above we see alexander going to philby, leaving the classroom talking with him. we are in the upper balcony of the classroom. a solitary figure looks down, watching them.this new figure is a thin man with pale skin, dry like parchment. somehow ominous.int. columbia - hallway - dayalexander walks with philby:alexander… the point is i know it willwork once the, um, numbers and suchare in order.philbydo you know you were humming?alexanderi was not.philbysomewhere around ‘d+2xy somethingsomething.’alexanderdamned if i can keep her out of myequations.philbytonight’s the night?alexander(checking pocket watch)god, and i’m running late —a prim woman appears before them:prim womandr. hartdegen, dr. philby… deanfulton would like to see you.alexander and philby exchange a look. gulp. they follow the prim woman.int. columbia - dean fult on’s office - daythey follow the prim woman, dean fulton’s secretary, into his dark, paneled office.prim womanhe’s outside.alexander and philby move through the office and out to a garden courtyard…ext. columbia - garden courtyard - dayoddly, chickens are clucking about the courtyard.the thin man we saw before, dean fulton, is casually tossing down feed for the chickens. with his other hand he carriesan umbrella to protect himself from the sun. he does notlook up.dean fultongentlemen, watch your step.alexander and philby stop. dean fulton looks up and smiles, benevolent.dean fultonmy fowl have polluted the yard.philbydean fulton…dean fulton continues to lazily scatter feed for his chickens.dean fultondr. philby, dr. hartdegen. ireceived the most extraordinaryletter last week. from a parent.we are always pleased to receiveletters from parents. they are ouremployers, after all. thisgentleman’s son is in your class,dr. hartdegen.alexander(knows what’s coming)i see.dean fultonas i recall the syllabus the nameof your tutorial is ‘appliedmathematics and engineering’, am icorrect?alexanderexactly correct, sir.dean fulton stops scattering feed and gazes at alexander with a smile. this is an old game between them and they bothrather enjoy it. to a point.dean fultonwell, just as i thought. surelyit’s all been a terrible mistake. this parent actually suggested that your freshman course in applied mathematics has somehow become a seminar on theoretical physics! alexanderimagine that.dean fultonbut i know that none of my faculty would ever deviate from the assigned curriculum.alexanderwell… perhaps i have ‘deviated’the tiniest bit.dean fultonmight i ask why?alexanderbecause the assigned curriculum is boring.philby groans very quietly. alexandersir, that curriculum is forty years out of date. the students todayare looking toward the new century— they want to be challenged andinspired, not spoon-fed dusty oldequations that have been proved athousand times. they want toexplore.dean fultondo they?dean fulton smiles and then begins to scatter feed again. dean fultonwhat are these animals, gentlemen?alexander and philby exchange a look.philbyum, your chickens, sir.alexander helpfully offers:alexanderand roosters.dean fultonno, dr. hartdegen, they are notjust chickens and roosters. theyare science. perhaps they aren’t‘inspiring’ to you. perhaps theydon’t ‘challenge’ you —alexanderno, sir —dean fultonanimal husbandry is science, dr.hartdegen. i have been breedingthese fowl for fourteen years. ihave filled a library withinformation on their feedingpatterns, social behavior andbreeding. empirical, exacting,quantifiable records.alexandersir —dean fulton looks up at him, his eyes cold:dean fulton‘duration’ is not a dimension.scientists do not imagine the worldaround them. they do not wool-gather or cloud-spin. they prove.they demonstrate. columbiauniversity does not teach fantasy.philby shoots alexander a warning look, but alexander c an’t help himself:alexanderwith respect, sir, would we havethe telegraph without fantasy? would we have radium and x-rays without someone first dreaming we could?dean fultonthe advances you speak of were the result of countless years of study and empirical experimentation, a careful evolutionary process, not chalkboard parlor-tricks.alexandermy equations are not parlor-tricks! dean fultonabstract mathematics, relativity of dimensions, geometrical ‘durations’— even allowing for the uses of speculation, what is the point? alexanderbecause it’s a new way of seeingthe world! of seeing our place init!philbysir, if i may —dean fulton(with finality, toalexander)young man, we have a way of doing things here. radical theorizing is not acceptable. have i made myself understood?alexanderyes, sir.dean fultonvery good. now if you will excuseus for a moment.alexander goes back into the office. philbyif i might explain, sir —dean fultonyou supported his application, dr. philby. you are his senior, advisor. i depend upon you to restrain his… excesses. any repetition of the behavior iwitnessed in his classroom todayand there will be consequences foryou both.philbyyes, sir.dean fultonnow you are upsetting my fowl.please go.philby extricates himself from a chicken pecking at his shoe and goes.alexander (v.o.)he’s a dinosaur. he’s alreadyextinct, he just doesn’t know it…ext. streetcar - dayalexander and philby are in an open horse-drawn streetcar, heading downtown. everywhere around them, the massive city bustles.new york city at the end of the 19th century. it is vibrant to the point of frenzy; reaching for the future in a furious upheaval of construction.title: new york city - may 12, 1895 - 5:17 p.m.alexander… one day he’ll be discovered bysome future archeologists and theywon’t know what to make of him.the thick brow, so lacking inimagination. the dim little eyes,devoid of curiosity.philbyyou know generally teachers aresupposed to teach real equationsthat add up to real numbers.alexanderwhere’s the challenge in that?philbyalex, this is your first year as anassociate professor. you mightwant to play things a little moreconservatively.alexanderyou sound like my father…alexander points to the masses of grey businessmen, all in identical bowler hats, marching along the sidewalk: alexanderlook at them, philby, all alike,everyone in an identical bowlerhat. do you want your students toturn out like them?philbyi want my students to emerge withtheoretical and practicalknowledge.alexanderi don’t. i want them to run alongthis street and knock off everybowler they see.philbyyou may not like it, but this isthe world we live in, alex. littlegrey men with little grey hats.alexanderbut shoul dn’t it be better?shouldn’t we be teaching ourstudents to imagine a world beyondall this?alexander points to a new building going up, a complex spider’s web of steel girders.alexanderlook at that, philby. a steelframe building. ten years ago itwas unheard of. no little grey manthought of that. the new centurybelongs to men who are willing toimagine the impossible…their streetcar passes a few huddled beggars on the curb.the businessmen ignore them. alexander watches them, hiseyes sad.alexander(quietly)in the future, we’ll be better.philbywhat?alexandernothing.ext. alexander’s house - eveningalexander’s sprawling victorian house sits on a quiet street. there is a quaint shop right across the street. the shop features a window showing a female mannequin dressed in period clothes. the sign above the shop: branson’s apparel and haberdashery.alexander and philby hurry into his house…int. alexander’s house - eveningalexander’s house is a lovely world of victorian elegance constantly at war with his erratic and creative enterprises. everywhere alexander’s scientific passions are evident: animal skulls rest alongside leather-bound tomes; mechanical inventions in various states of completion rest atop heavy mahogany tables; test tubes and microscopes are spread out on an unused piano.the one facet that most immediately reflects alexander is aural: the ticking of scores of clocks; a steady metronomic cadence.alexander bounds in, philby following.alexandermrs. watchit! mrs. watchit!mrs. watchit, alexander’s housekeeper, troops down the stairs. she is a wry and commanding british woman in her60’s.mrs. watchitoh huzzah, the master’s home.alexanderdo you have it?!mrs. watchithello, mr. philby.philbyhello, mrs. watchit. you’relooking in the pink.mrs. watchitmust be all the exercise i get scampering up and down these stairslike a wee lamb.alexanderdon’t torture me — do you have it? mrs. watchiti have it, but don’t you think forone moment i’ll be letting you goout in that filthy coat — now go upstairs and change. i’ve laid outyour green coat.alexanderwhat’s the matter with — ?(he notes he is coveredin chalk dust)— what would i do without you,mrs. watchit?he bounds up the stairs. phiby follows. mrs. watchitand change your tie!she bustles off, grumbling happily.int. alexander’s bedroom - eveningcharles darwin stares at us. imposing. inspiring. challenging.a bust of darwin looms over alexander’s bedroom. alexander, in a new coat, is trying to work a complicated knot in his tie. his eyes study the problem in a mirror. alexanderemma actually likes chalk dust —says it smells like me.philbyhow romantic…philby goes to alexander, helps him with his tie.philbythe most able inventor i know andyou can’t tie a si mple four-in-hand.alexanderthat’s how i knew we were destinedto be together. when i met herparents for the first time i cameright from class and i was coveredin chalk. they sniffed andsnorted, but she just smiled. atthat moment — i just knew. howdid you know with molly?philbyshe made the best shepherd’s pie iever tasted.alexanderdo you have a romantic bone in yourbody?philby(completing the tie)no, i’m all bowler hat, remember?alexander quickly goes to his old coat and transfers his pocket watch, journal and many loose scraps of paper covered in equations to the new coat as:philbyalex, really… good luck tonight.she’s a fine girl, and she’s donewonderful things for you.alexanderoh?philby(smiles)she’s gotten into your equations.alexander stops, looks at him. smiles.alexanderi guess she has.he glances at his pocket watch.alexanderi’ve got to hurry…he hurries out, philby following…int. alexander’s house - stairs - eveningalexander races down the stairs, tucking the watch into his vest.they pass a series of clocks of every size and shape that run down the wall along the stairway.philbyall these clocks — how can youconstantly be running late?!alexanderperseverance.int. alexander’s house - entry hall - eveningmrs. watchit waits. alexander and philby appear down the stairs.mrs. watchitnow that’s more like it. you looka proper gentlemen for once.alexanderthen if emma turns me down will youmarry me?mrs. watchit(dry)oh, i’m already swooning.alexanderouch — all right, wish me luck.he begins to sprint out the door — mrs. watchit stops him with:mrs. watchityou might be wanting this?she holds up a velvet ring box. he takes the box. alexanderoh —thanks. well…(a wink to philby)… time’s a wastin’!with that he is out the door.mrs. watchit and philby stand for a moment, catching their breath after alexander’s tornado of enthusiasm.philbyi wonder if that poor girl has anyidea what she’s in for?mrs. watchitfor our sake, i hope not.ext. fifth avenue - nightthe many luxurious horse-drawn carriages glide along fifth avenue with stately dignity. rich pedestrians stroll along the sidewalk.alexander leaps out of a carriage and begins to stride toward an entrance to central park.he passes a flower seller.flower sellerhave some flowers, sir?alexandernot tonight, thanks.he continues on toward the entrance to the park — stops. alexanderno — i promised her flowers.he turns around and hurries back toward the flower seller. but…a sudden mechanical clanking sound makes him stop dead in his tracks. the siren’s song…he turns…pulled over to the curb is a magnificent stanley steamerautomobile. it is a glorious collection of bronze and copper and steel and wooden dashboard and leather upholstery and groaning steam tank and clanking engine. alexander stares, transfixed.alexander glances at his watch — running late — but he just can’t resist this new marvel. flowers forgotten, alexander steps to the motorist, currently tinkering with the car’s engine.alexanderit’s spectacular…motoristthanks. old nell’s my girl allright. al least when she decidesto move, stubborn beast.alexander(walking around the car,admiring)i’ve only read about them — andthe new internals.motoristnow that’s what i call plain crazy— internal combustion is just toodangerous, all those littleexplosions, never catch on.alexanderhow do you keep the watertemperature stable?motoristthere’s a cantilevered gasket onthe —suddenly — the car lurches forward dangerously — alexander instantly grabs the brake lever and hauls it back — the car screeches to a stop.motoristgod — could have killed me — badgirl, nell! how did you know to dothat?alexanderi just love mechanical things.motoristwell, much obliged —i’m alwaysforgetting the confounded brake —say, if you wait until i get her upand running i’ll give you aperambulation. tell you all abouther.alexander(pained)ahhh… i’m afraid i’ve got a priorcommitment.motoristnext time then. we perambulatehere most every night.alexanderyou have my word…(he takes a last, longinglook at the car)… she’s just a beauty.he sprints off into central park.ext. pavilion - central park - nighta full moon shines in the night sky.gentle period music from a band, glowing lanterns hanging down and the swaying shapes of dancers.we are at a beautiful pavilion in central park. a magical antique setting of ease and grace. white linen suits and straw boaters. parasols and high-button shoes.a beautiful woman stands with her back to us watching the dancers… she slowly turns…emma smiles.alexander stands, just watching her, bewitched.then they come together and kiss lightly, as befits 1895 decency.emmayou’re late.alexandergot here as soon as i could.emmadance with me…alexanderyou know i can’t.emmatrust me…she takes his hand and they dance. she is a natural dancer, smooth and gentle. he does his best, following her minute cues with great sensitivity.as they dance:emmayou promised me flowers.alexanderwhat?emmayou promised me flowers tonight,don’t you even remember?alexandersorry… i was distracted.emma(lightly)well there’s something new.alexanderi need to… um… talk to you.emmatalk away, professor.alexandernot here… alone. may we?please?she leads him from the dance floor.emmalet’s walk through the park…ext. central park - path - nightalexander and emma walk through the park, arm in arm, enjoying the exquisite night.flickering gaslights provide a dim illumination on the path they follow as it winds through the dark foliage.emma(looking atconstellations)… orion’s belt, pointing to the earth. you see it over the rocks there? sailors consider that an omen of good fortune; the hunter watching over them on their travels… are you listening to me, alex?alexander(glancing up)what? yes — orion — good fortune — sailors.emmaall right, what is it now? alexander(nervously)emma, you know i have great…admiration for you.emmaadmiration? my my.alexanderi mean… well… affection.emmayou’re getting warmer.he stops.alexanderoh dammit, i love you! i can’teat, i can’t sleep, i can’t think,all i do is moon over you and —hum, apparently.emma(mock seriously)and what do you propose, professor?shall we hold a seminar to studythe problem?a beat. he takes a huge gulp of air and then commits himself — he dramatically drops to one knee — and then in a great rush of words:alexandermarry me. i’ll do everything i canto make you happy and build a lifeand have babies and make you proudand be worthy of you and… ah…make you happy, did i say that?she looks down at him, tears of joy coming to her eyes. emmaoh, professor…he leaps up and embraces her. a long, joyous embrace.he stops —alexanderwait, i have something for you.he searches through his many pockets — coat, vest, pants —begins plucking out the loose scraps of paper covered with equations —but can’t seem to find the jewelry box.she watches him for a moment, amused, loving him all the more for his befuddlement.emmayou know, the moment is ratherdying here.alexanderhold on… i know i have it…he finally finds the velvet jewelry box. snaps it open.inside is a lovely moonstone ring. the gem is a pale, translucent blue mirroring the full moon above.alexanderi know it’s not a diamond but —emmaa moonstone.alexanderyour birth stone. i thought —she holds a finger to his lips.emmayou thought right.he slips the ring on her finger. she holds it up to the moonlight, deeply moved.emmalook, it matches the moon…then…a low voice from the thick trees next to them.voicei just might cry.alexander and emma turn to see a tall thin man stepping from the trees. his hands are buried deep in his overcoat pockets.thin mancouldn’t help but overhearing. twofine young people starting out onthe road of life. i wish you thevery best.alexanderthank you…thin mani hope it’s a happy journey for youboth — and much as i hate to dothis, moved as i am by yourprotestations of love, i’ll beneeding your money now.alexander(smiles)sir…?thin manand your jewelry too. i guess wecould consider this your firstlittle bump on the road to marriedbliss.alexanderi don’t understand.the thin man removes a hand from his pocket. he holds a small revolver.thin mannow don’t make a scene… there’sno cause for that. just hand overyour wallet, will you?he holds the gun up, lethal, a sudden glint as the barrel shines in the moonlight.thin mandid you hear me, lad?alexanderall right, all right — here —everything —alexander swiftly gives the man his billfold.thin manand the watch.alexander hands over his pocket watch as the thin man eyes emma’s ring.thin manand the ring.emmano —thin mani’m afraid so, darling. maybehe’ll buy you a diamond now.alexanderplease, not that — look —the thin man pulls back the hammer of the revolver. click. thin mangive me the ring.emmano…the thin man suddenly lurches forward and grabs emma’s arm —trying to wrench the ring violently from her finger —alexander instantly springs to her defense — a struggle —the gun fires — the flash of cruel, phosphorous light momentarily illuminating them all starkly —emma recoils to alexander — alexander looks at the thin man, disbelieving —the thin man glares at him —thin manwhy did you do that?! it’s only aring!the thin man races away into the darkness.alexander holds emma, she clings to him, blood flowing over his fingers. he snatches her up and carries her — running urgently through some trees to a carriage path beyond —carriages filled with young lovers float past.alexanderhelp me! please!an empty carriage finally stops — alexander lurches into the carriage with emma —ext. carriage - central park - night— alexander holds emma in the back of a carriage. heurgently screams to the driver:alexanderget to columbus hospital! now!the driver whips his horses and the carriage takes off. alexanderplease hurry! we’ve no time!carriage driveri’m trying sir — !emma clings to alexander, her hand clasped tight to his vest, blood flowing out of her, pooling. her dying eyes just watching him.alexandergod hurry please — just get out ofthe park —and then the carriage slows — stops — alexander stabs his head out the window and sees —a long line of carriage ahead of them. a traffic jam. pairs of lovers enjoying the beautiful night, gazing up at the stars.alexanderoh god…a distant bell begins to toll. time inexorably, cruelly moving on.alexanderplease — hurry!the driver whips the horse — tries to maneuver the carriage through the traffic jam — a jumble of horses — their horse shies —can’t get through.emma’s hand clutches alexander’s vest, fingers moving slightly. the bell continues to toll. time running out.her lips move noiselessly, her eyes stare up at him, praying for one parting glance.he continues to shout to the driver, fighting time, not looking at her:alexander(desperate)for god sake do something!! —just — get off the path!carriage driveri’m trying, sir! —i can’t getthrough!alexander glances down to emma. she is dead. her eyes open. he stares at her. not wanting to believe. the bellcontinues to toll.fade to black…and then a strange sound in the darkness…the roar of a tiger —distorted, echoing…then another sound…click-clack, click-clack, click-clack…chalk racing across a blackboard.title: four years later.fade up to…int. alexander’s house - lab - dayan endless equation —alexander’s hand speeds across a blackboard —manic, ferocious. we pull back to reveal…an enormous blackboard, floor to ceiling, two stories high, filling one wall — and two other blackboards, filling two other walls, also covered with equations. a shocking flashof alexander’s fevered mind.he stands with his back to us, perched high on a rolling library ladder, his hand violently scrawling numbers in a frenzied rush. he pulls the ladder along as he works,totally absorbed.the drapes around the room are drawn tight against any hint of the day outside. windows sealed.in the flickering gaslight we see a cacophony of scientific equipment and experiments filling every inch of the chamber below him, two stories filled with beakers and test tubes; microscopes and coils; engineering blueprints and gyroscopes;and the huge chalkboards crowded with layers upon layers of intense calculus and geometry and equations.there is another large part of the lab, jutting off from the house. a closed curtain conceals this part of the lab.and all the clocks have stopped. the steady metronomic cadence that was the aural life of alexander’s house is no more. we see a number of clocks around the lab. all have been allowed to run down.a knock at the door — alexander ignores it — another knock. he finally turns from the blackboard.alexanderwhat?!and we see him — alexander is very different now: cadaverous and intense, a face that looks as if it has not seen the sun in years. and eyes marked by tragedy.mrs. watchit enters. the years of dealing with hisheartbreak have taken a toll on her as well.mrs. watchitsir, mr. philby is here.alexanderhere?mrs. watchityes, sir, he —alexandertell him to go away —philby pushes past mrs. watchit. he wears an overcoat and a bowler hat.philbyi won’t go away, alex.alexander stares down at philby. philby is shocked at the change in his friend.alexanderall right, mrs. watchit. you cango.mrs. watchitmay i get you some —alexanderthat’ll be all.she leaves the lab.philbymy god, alex, what’s happened toyou?alexander climbs down the ladder as:alexanderi’ve been working.philby。
中英文小说对照阅读：时间机器Time Machine
中英文小说对照阅读：时间机器Time MachineThe Time Machine is a novel by H. G. Wells, first published in 1895 and later directly adapted into at least two theatrical films of the same name, as well as two television versions, and a large number of comic book adaptations. It indirectly inspired many more works of fiction in all media. This 38,000 word novella is generally credited with the popularization of the concept of time travel using a vehicle that allows an operator to travel purposefully and selectively. The term “time machine”, coined by Wells, is now universally used to refer to such a vehicle. It was also inspired by Charles Darwin and On the Origin of Species, showing us humans that have evolved into different species. Wells introduces an early example of the Dying Earth subgenre as well.The book’s protagonist is an amateur inventor or scientist living in London who is never named; he is identified simply as The Time Traveller. Having demonstrated to friends using a miniature model that time is a fourth dimension, and that a suitable apparatus can move back and forth in this fourth dimension, he builds a full-scale model capable of carrying himself. He sets off on a journey into the future.The Time Traveller details the experience of time travel and the evolution of his surroundings as he moves through time. Whiletravelling through time, his machine allows him to observe the changes of the outside world in fast motion. He observes the sun and moon traversing the sky and the changes to the buildings and landscape around him as he travels through time. His machine produces a sense of disorientation to its occupant, and a blurring or faintness of the surroundings outside the machine.His journey takes him to the year A.D. 802,701, where he finds an apparently peaceful, pastoral, communist,[1] future filled with happy, simple humans who call themselves the Eloi. The Eloi are about four feet tall (~122 cm), pink-skinned and frail-looking, with curly hair, small ears and mouths and large eyes. Males and females seem to be quite similar in build and appearance. They have high-pitched, soft voices and speak an unknown language. They appear to be quite unintelligent and child-like and live without quarrels or conflict. Soon after his arrival he rescues Weena, a female Eloi he finds drowning in a river. Much to his surprise she is grateful to him and insists on following him.The Eloi live in small communities within large and futuristic yet dilapidated buildings, doing no work and eating a frugivorous diet. The land around London has become a sort of untended garden filled with unusual fruiting and flowering plants, and similarly strange yet collapsing buildings and other structures, all clearly no longer used,dotted around. There is no evidence of the implementation of agriculture or technology, of which the Eloi seem incapable.The Time Traveller is greeted with curiosity and without fear by the Eloi, who seem only vaguely surprised and curious by his appearance and lose interest rapidly. He disables the time machine and follows them to their commune and consumes a meal of fruit while trying to communicate with them. This proves somewhat ineffectual, as their unknown language and low intelligence hinders the Time Traveller from gaining any useful information. With a sl ight sense of disdain for his hosts’ lack of curiosity and attention to him, the Time Traveller decides to explore the local area.As he explores this landscape, the Time Traveller comments on the factors that have resulted in the Eloi’s physical conditio n and society. He supposes that the lack of intelligence and vitality of the Eloi are the logical result of humankind’s past struggle to transform and subjugate nature through technology, politics, art and creativity. With the realisation of this goal, the Eloi had devolved.With no further need for technology, agriculture, or innovations to improve life, they became unimaginative and incurious about the world. With no work to do, they became physically weak and small in stature. Males, generally being breadwinners and workers in former times, have particularly degenerated in physique, explainingthe lack of dimorphism between the sexes. The Time Traveller supposes that preventive medicine has been achieved, as he saw no sign of disease amongst his hosts. With no work to do and no hardships to overcome, society became non-hierarchical and non-cooperative, with no defined leaders or social classes.The fact that there was no hardship or inequalities in societies meant there was no war and crime. Art and sophisticated culture, often driven by problems and aspirations or a catalyst for solutions and new developments, had waned, as no problems existed and there were no conceivable improvements for humanity. He accounted for their relatively small numbers as being due to the implementation of some form of birth control to eliminate the problems of overpopulation. The abandoned structures around him would suggest that prior to these achievements, the population had been larger and more productive, toiling to find the solution that would make the new utopia a reality.As the sun sets, the Time Traveller muses on where he will sleep. Retracing his steps back to the building where he had eaten with the Eloi, he suddenly realizes that the time machine is missing. He panics and desperately searches for the vehicle. At first, he suspects that the Eloi have moved it to their shelter. He doubts the Eloi would be capable or inclined to do this, but nonetheless rushes back to theshelter and demands to know where his machine is. The Eloi are confused and a little frightened by this. Realising the Eloi don’t understand him and he is damaging his position with them, he continues his search in desperation during the night before relenting and falling into an uneasy sleep.The Utopian existence of the Eloi turns out to be deceptive. The Traveller soon discovers that the class structure of his own time has in fact persisted, and the human race has diverged into two branches. The wealthy, leisured classes appear to have devolved into the ineffectual, not very bright Eloi he has already seen; but the downtrodden working classes have evolved into the bestial Morlocks, cannibal hominids resembling human spiders, who toil underground maintaining the machinery that keep the Eloi —their flocks —docile and plentiful. Both species, having adapted to their routines, are of distinctly sub-human intelligence.After further adventures, the Traveller manages to get to his machine, reactivate it as the Morlocks battle him for it, and escape them. He then travels into the far future, roughly 30 million years from his own time.There he sees the last few living things on a dying Earth, the rotation of which has ceased with the site of London viewing a baleful, red sun stuck at the setting position. In his trip forward, hehad seen the red sun flare up brightly twice, as if Mercury and then Venus had fallen into it. Menacing reddish crab-like creatures slowly wander the blood-red beaches, and the world is covered in “intensely green vegetation.” He continues to make short jumps through time, seeing the red giant of a sun grow redder and dimmer. Finally, the world begins to go dark as snowflakes begin to fall, and all silence falls upon Earth. In the very end of the Earth, all life has ceased, other than the lichens that still grow on rocks, and a kraken-like creature, roughly the size of a football, that slowly moves onto shore. Feeling giddy and nauseated about the return journey before him, he nevertheless boards his machine and puts it into reverse, arriving back in his laboratory just three hours after he originally left. Entering the dining room, he begins recounting what has just happened to his disbelieving friends and associates, bringing the story back full circle to his entrance in chapter 2. The following day, the unnamed narrator returns to the Time Traveller’s house. There, he finds the Time Traveller ready to leave again, this time taking a small knapsack and a camera. Although he promises the narrator he will return in half an hour, three years pass and the Time Traveller still remains missing. What happened to him, and where he ultimately ventured, remains a mystery.1895年，纽约，哥伦比亚大学的副教授亚历山大·哈德金博士，人近中年却仍抱有着孩童一般的好奇心和求知欲，满脑子旁人看来稀奇古怪的理论。
时间机器英文原文阅读
时间机器英文原文阅读As the sun dipped below the horizon, the room filled with the soft glow of twilight. I reached for the dusty book onthe shelf, its spine worn from countless readings. The pages whispered secrets of the past, the future, and thetantalizing possibility of time travel.My heart raced as I turned the brittle pages, each one a portal to a different era. The ink, once vibrant, now faded, yet the words held the power to transport me across centuries.I imagined the inventor, his eyes alight with the thrill of discovery, as he unveiled his masterpiece—the time machine.The first journey was to the roaring twenties, a time of jazz and flappers, of speakeasies and the birth of modernity.I could almost hear the music, feel the energy pulsating through the streets. The time machine, a silent observer, allowed me to witness history unfold.Next, I found myself in the future, a world of sleek skyscrapers and flying cars. The air was crisp, thetechnology advanced beyond my wildest dreams. I marveled atthe progress, the leaps humanity had made, and wondered about the choices that led us there.Each trip was a lesson, a glimpse into the consequencesof our actions. The time machine wasn't just a device; it was a teacher, showing me the delicate balance of cause andeffect. It was a reminder that every moment matters.As I closed the book, the room returned to its familiar state, the shadows of evening creeping in. But the magic of the time machine lingered, a whisper in the back of my mind, urging me to consider the power we hold in our hands, to shape the world we want to live in.。
A_Review_of_The_Time_Machine_《时间机器》读后感(英语)
The Report on The Time MachineThe Time Machine is a science fiction by H. G. Wells, first published in 1895. The novel soon became popular because of the appealing plot and the future world he described in the story. The whole story tells a man who travels through time by a special vehicle experiences a special journey. He sees the future society and human beings.The writer H. G. Wells was only 27 when the book was published. Herbert George Wells known by his pen name H. G. Wells, was a British author. Also he was a socialist and a pacifist. Once he was bedridden because of his broken leg. During that period, he started to read in order to pass time. Then the books stimulated his desire to write. However he didn’t have a peaceful life in his young age. Fortunately, his parents allowed him to study finally, and then he began to show his great talent. He won scholarships and studied in many colleges. The novels he wrote usually were very popular. His early works now are classic in science fictions. Among them includes: The Time Machine, The History of Mr. Polly, The War of the Worlds, The Invisible Man, The Island of Doctor Moreau. And this novel The Time Machine reflects Wells's own socialist political views and the contemporary angst about industrial relations. The future world he described in the story shows his opinions about the future.The story begins with the protagonist’ theory that time is the fourth dimension. He thinks that people can travel back and forth through time. And he is right though other people didn’t believe it. The Time Traveler invents a special machine which took him to the year 802,701 AD. There he finds an apparently peaceful and pastoral society. A group of small humans greet him. These people are called Eloi. They are surprised and curious about his arrival. The Eloi live in small communities, doing no work and eating strange fruits. The natural landscape around tells that there is no active agriculture and industry. It seems that the Eloi are incapable of doing physical labor.The Time Traveler begins to explore the area. He tries to communicate with the Eloi and know something about their life, but when he returns hefinds that his time machine is gone. He thinks it has been put inside the pedestal of a nearby statue. He tries to open it but fails. In the evening, he begins to catch glimpses of strange white ape-like creatures the Eloi call Morlocks. The group of creatures lives underground. They are very cruel. As they come out of the underground, they begin to kill Eloi, and eat them as their food. During the chaos, the Time Traveler saves one of the Eloi from drowning, and she befriends him. Her name is Weena. In order to get back his time machine, he works up enough courage to go down into the world of Morlocks with Weena. He finds that matches are good defense against the Morlocks. They find matches in an ancient museum. He accidentally starts a fire. Many Morlocks die in the fire and the battle ceases, and Weena is killed. He finds his machine in next morning, and springs onto the machine and whizzes into the future.The Time Traveler makes several more stops, and then he travels thirty million years into the future. Along the way he sees the changes of the earth. He then returns to the present time. The next day, he leaves again, but never returns. What happened to him, and where he ultimately ventured, remains a mystery.In the story, the human race has diverged into two branches. The wealthy, leisured classes appear to have devolved into the weak and not very bright Eloi. Since they have subjugated nature, then they have no further need for technology, agriculture, or innovations to improve life, so they become unimaginative and incurious about the world. With no work to do, they become physically weak and small in stature. But the working classes have evolved into the bestial Morlock.The main thread of the story is the adventure tale of the Eloi and Morlock in the year 802,701 AD. The adventure includes the Time Traveler’s journey to the underground, his fear of the great forest, his relationship to Weena, and his further journey to the future. The exciting plots make the story attractive.The Time Machine's literary influences are numerous. Wells's novella has become one of the cornerstones of science-fiction literature. As a result, it has spawned many offspring. Many works expanding on Wells's story come out later.Like all of Wells’s futurist fiction, The Time Machine has a tingle of negative, making the readers to consider the possibility of the darker side, not only humanity, but also the nature. Wells justifies the monstrous behavior of the creatures in his novel not only just by his great imagination but also the theory of natural selection and Darwin’s theory of evolution.What I like about this novel is not just the world that Wells creates, but the great differences between modern human and the future human. This point gives us a warm in some degree. By making the central character of his story a time traveler who can transport himself back and forth in time with the help of a machine he invented, Wells attempted to fathom what will become of human beings in the distant future. The novel's enduring popularity is the best evident of Well’s belief he illustrates. Of course the fate of the humanity can only be known when the future becomes reality. the future is still black and blank.2009/2/15。
The Time Machine(时间机器)
The Time Machine by H(erbert) G(eorge) WellsIThe Time Traveller (for so it will be convenient to speak of him) was expounding a recondite matter to us. His grey eyes shone and twinkled, and his usually pale face was flushed and animated. The fire burned brightly, and the soft radiance of the incandescent lights in the lilies of silver caught the bubbles that flashed and passed in our glasses. Our chairs, being his patents, embraced and caressed us rather than submitted to be sat upon, and there was that luxurious after-dinner atmosphere when thought roams gracefully free of the trammels of precision. And he put it to us in this way--marking the points with a lean forefinger--as we sat and lazily admired his earnestness over this new paradox (as we thought it:) and his fecundity.`You must follow me carefully. I shall have to controvert one or two ideas that are almost universally accepted. The geometry, for instance, they taught you at school is founded on a misconception.'`Is not that rather a large thing to expect us to begin upon?' said Filby, an argumentative person with red hair.`I do not mean to ask you to accept anything without reasonable ground for it. You will soon admit as much as I need from you. You know of course that a mathematical line, a line of thickness NIL, has no real existence. They taught you that? Neither has a mathematical plane. These things are mere abstractions.'`That is all right,' said the Psychologist.`Nor, having only length, breadth, and thickness, can a cube have a real existence.'`There I object,' said Filby. `Of course a solid body may exist. All real things--'`So most people think. But wait a moment. Can an INSTANTANEOUS cube exist?'`Don't follow you,' said Filby.`Can a cube that does not last for any time at all, have a real existence?'Filby became pensive. `Clearly,' the Time Traveller proceeded, `anyreal body must have extension in FOUR directions: it must have Length, Breadth, Thickness, and--Duration. But through a natural infirmity of the flesh, which I will explain to you in a moment, we incline to overlook this fact. There are really four dimensions, three which we call the three planes of Space, and a fourth, Time. There is, however, a tendency to draw an unreal distinction between the former three dimensions and the latter, because it happens that our consciousness moves intermittently in one direction along the latter from the beginning to the end of our lives.' `That,' said a very young man, making spasmodic efforts to relight his cigar over the lamp; `that . . . very clear indeed.'`Now, it is very remarkable that this is so extensively overlooked,' continued the Time Traveller, with a slight accession of cheerfulness. `Really this is what is meant by the Fourth Dimension, though some people who talk about the Fourth Dimension do not know they mean it. It is only another way of looking at Time. THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TIME AND ANY OF THE THREE DIMENSIONS OF SPACE EXCEPT THAT OUR CONSCIOUSNESS MOVES ALONG IT. But some foolish people have got hold of the wrong side of that idea. You have all heard what they have to say about this Fourth Dimension?' `_I_ have not,' said the Provincial Mayor.`It is simply this. That Space, as our mathematicians have it, is spoken of as having three dimensions, which one may call Length, Breadth, and Thickness, and is always definable by reference to three planes, each at right angles to the others. But some philosophical people have been asking why THREE dimensions particularly--why not another direction at right angles to the other three?--and have even tried to construct a Four-Dimension geometry. Professor Simon Newcomb was expounding this to the New York Mathematical Society only a month or so ago. You know how on a flat surface, which has only two dimensions, we can represent a figure of a three-dimensional solid, and similarly they think that by models of thee dimensions they could represent one of four--if they could master the perspective of the thing. See?'`I think so,' murmured the Provincial Mayor; and, knitting his brows, he lapsed into an introspective state, his lips moving as one who repeatsmystic words. `Yes, I think I see it now,' he said after some time, brightening in a quite transitory manner.`Well, I do not mind telling you I have been at work upon this geometry of Four Dimensions for some time. Some of my results are curious. For instance, here is a portrait of a man at eight years old, another at fifteen, another at seventeen, another at twenty-three, and so on. All these are evidently sections, as it were, Three-Dimensional representations of his Four-Dimensioned being, which is a fixed and unalterable thing.`Scientific people,' proceeded the Time Traveller, after the pause required for the proper assimilation of this, `know very well that Time is only a kind of Space. Here is a popular scientific diagram, a weather record. This line I trace with my finger shows the movement of the barometer. Yesterday it was so high, yesterday night it fell, then this morning it rose again, and so gently upward to here. Surely the mercury did not trace this line in any of the dimensions of Space generally recognized? But certainly it traced such a line, and that line, therefore, we must conclude was along the Time-Dimension.'`But,' said the Medical Man, staring hard at a coal in the fire, `if Time is really only a fourth dimension of Space, why is it, and why has it always been, regarded as something different? And why cannot we move in Time as we move about in the other dimensions of Space?' The Time Traveller smiled. `Are you sure we can move freely in Space? Right and left we can go, backward and forward freely enough, and men always have done so. I admit we move freely in two dimensions. But how about up and down? Gravitation limits us there.'`Not exactly,' said the Medical Man. `There are balloons.'`But before the balloons, save for spasmodic jumping and the inequalities of the surface, man had no freedom of vertical movement.' `Still they could move a little up and down,' said the Medical Man.`Easier, far easier down than up.'`And you cannot move at all in Time, you cannot get away from the present moment.'`My dear sir, that is just where you are wrong. That is just where the whole world has gone wrong. We are always getting away from thepresent movement. Our mental existences, which are immaterial and have no dimensions, are passing along the Time-Dimension with a uniform velocity from the cradle to the grave. Just as we should travel DOWN if we began our existence fifty miles above the earth's surface.' `But the great difficulty is this,' interrupted the Psychologist. `You CAN move about in all directions of Space, but you cannot move about in Time.'`That is the germ of my great discovery. But you are wrong to say that we cannot move about in Time. For instance, if I am recalling an incident very vividly I go back to the instant of its occurrence: I become absent-minded, as you say. I jump back for a moment. Of course we have no means of staying back for any length of Time, any more than a savage or an animal has of staying six feet above the ground. But a civilized man is better off than the savage in this respect. He can go up against gravitation in a balloon, and why should he not hope that ultimately he may be able to stop or accelerate his drift along the Time-Dimension, or even turn about and travel the other way?'`Oh, THIS,' began Filby, `is all--'`Why not?' said the Time Traveller.`It's against reason,' said Filby.`What reason?' said the Time Traveller.`You can show black is white by argument,' said Filby, `but you will never convince me.'`Possibly not,' said the Time Traveller. `But now you begin to see the object of my investigations into the geometry of Four Dimensions. Long ago I had a vague inkling of a machine--'`To travel through Time!' exclaimed the Very Young Man.`That shall travel indifferently in any direction of Space and Time, as the driver determines.'Filby contented himself with laughter.`But I have experimental verification,' said the Time Traveller.`It would be remarkably convenient for the historian,' the Psychologist suggested. `One might travel back and verify the accepted account of the Battle of Hastings, for instance!'`Don't you think you would attract attention?' said the Medical Man. `Our ancestors had no great tolerance for anachronisms.'`One might get one's Greek from the very lips of Homer and Plato,' the Very Young Man thought.`In which case they would certainly plough you for the Little-go. The German scholars have improved Greek so much.'`Then there is the future,' said the Very Young Man. `Just think! One might invest all one's money, leave it to accumulate at interest, and hurry on ahead!'`To discover a society,' said I, `erected on a strictly communistic basis.'`Of all the wild extravagant theories!' began the Psychologist.`Yes, so it seemed to me, and so I never talked of it until--'`Experimental verification!' cried I. `You are going to verify THAT?' `The experiment!' cried Filby, who was getting brain-weary.`Let's see your experiment anyhow,' said the Psychologist, `though it's all humbug, you know.'The Time Traveller smiled round at us. Then, still smiling faintly, and with his hands deep in his trousers pockets, he walked slowly out of the room, and we heard his slippers shuffling down the long passage to his laboratory.The Psychologist looked at us. `I wonder what he's got?'`Some sleight-of-hand trick or other,' said the Medical Man, and Filby tried to tell us about a conjurer he had seen at Burslem; but before he had finished his preface the Time Traveller came back, and Filby's anecdote collapsed.The thing the Time Traveller held in his hand was a glittering metallic framework, scarcely larger than a small clock, and very delicately made. There was ivory in it, and some transparent crystalline substance. And now I must be explicit, for this that follows--unless his explanation is to be accepted--is an absolutely unaccountable thing. He took one of the small octagonal tables that were scattered about the room, and set it in front of the fire, with two legs on the hearthrug. On this table he placed the mechanism. Then he drew up a chair, and sat down. The only other objecton the table was a small shaded lamp, the bright light of which fell upon the model. There were also perhaps a dozen candles about, two in brass candlesticks upon the mantel and several in sconces, so that the room was brilliantly illuminated. I sat in a low arm-chair nearest the fire, and I drew this forward so as to be almost between the Time Traveller and the fireplace. Filby sat behind him, looking over his shoulder. The Medical Man and the Provincial Mayor watched him in profile from the right, the Psychologist from the left. The Very Young Man stood behind the Psychologist. We were all on the alert. It appears incredible to me that any kind of trick, however subtly conceived and however adroitly done, could have been played upon us under these conditions.The Time Traveller looked at us, and then at the mechanism. `Well?' said the Psychologist.`This little affair,' said the Time Traveller, resting his elbows upon the table and pressing his hands together above the apparatus, `is only a model. It is my plan for a machine to travel through time. You will notice that it looks singularly askew, and that there is an odd twinkling appearance about this bar, as though it was in some way unreal.' He pointed to the part with his finger. `Also, here is one little white lever, and here is another.' The Medical Man got up out of his chair and peered into the thing. `It's beautifully made,' he said.`It took two years to make,' retorted the Time Traveller. Then, when we had all imitated the action of the Medical Man, he said: `Now I want you clearly to understand that this lever, being pressed over, sends the machine gliding into the future, and this other reverses the motion. This saddle represents the seat of a time traveller. Presently I am going to press the lever, and off the machine will go. It will vanish, pass into future Time, and disappear. Have a good look at the thing. Look at the table too, and satisfy yourselves there is no trickery. I don't want to waste this model, and then be told I'm a quack.'There was a minute's pause perhaps. The Psychologist seemed about to speak to me, but changed his mind. Then the Time Traveller put forth his finger towards the lever. `No,' he said suddenly. `Lend me your hand.' And turning to the Psychologist, he took that individual's hand in his ownand told him to put out his forefinger. So that it was the Psychologist himself who sent forth the model Time Machine on its interminable voyage. We all saw the lever turn. I am absolutely certain there was no trickery. There was a breath of wind, and the lamp flame jumped. One of the candles on the mantel was blown out, and the little machine suddenly swung round, became indistinct, was seen as a ghost for a second perhaps, as an eddy of faintly glittering brass and ivory; and it was gone--vanished! Save for the lamp the table was bare.Everyone was silent for a minute. Then Filby said he was damned.The Psychologist recovered from his stupor, and suddenly looked under the table. At that the Time Traveller laughed cheerfully. `Well?' he said, with a reminiscence of the Psychologist. Then, getting up, he went to the tobacco jar on the mantel, and with his back to us began to fill his pipe.We stared at each other. `Look here,' said the Medical Man, `are you in earnest about this? Do you seriously believe that that machine has travelled into time?'`Certainly,' said the Time Traveller, stooping to light a spill at the fire. Then he turned, lighting his pipe, to look at the Psychologist's face. (The Psychologist, to show that he was not unhinged, helped himself to a cigar and tried to light it uncut.) `What is more, I have a big machine nearly finished in there'--he indicated the laboratory--`and when that is put together I mean to have a journey on my own account.'`You mean to say that that machine has travelled into the future?' said Filby.`Into the future or the past--I don't, for certain, know which.'After an interval the Psychologist had an inspiration. `It must have gone into the past if it has gone anywhere,' he said.`Why?' said the Time Traveller.`Because I presume that it has not moved in space, and if it travelled into the future it would still be here all this time, since it must have travelled through this time.'`But,' I said, `If it travelled into the past it would have been visible when we came first into this room; and last Thursday when we were here; and the Thursday before that; and so forth!'`Serious objections,' remarked the Provincial Mayor, with an air of impartiality, turning towards the Time Traveller.`Not a bit,' said the Time Traveller, and, to the Psychologist: `You think. You can explain that. It's presentation below the threshold, you know, diluted presentation.'`Of course,' said the Psychologist, and reassured us. `That's a simple point of psychology. I should have thought of it. It's plain enough, and helps the paradox delightfully. We cannot see it, nor can we appreciate this machine, any more than we can the spoke of a wheel spinning, or a bullet flying through the air. If it is travelling through time fifty times or a hundred times faster than we are, if it gets through a minute while we get through a second, the impression it creates will of course be only one-fiftieth or one-hundredth of what it would make if it were not travelling in time. That's plain enough.' He passed his hand through the space in which the machine had been. `You see?' he said, laughing.We sat and stared at the vacant table for a minute or so. Then the Time Traveller asked us what we thought of it all.`It sounds plausible enough to-night,' said the Medical Man; 'but wait until to-morrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.' `Would you like to see the Time Machine itself?' asked the Time Traveller. And therewith, taking the lamp in his hand, he led the way down the long, draughty corridor to his laboratory. I remember vividly the flickering light, his queer, broad head in silhouette, the dance of the shadows, how we all followed him, puzzled but incredulous, and how there in the laboratory we beheld a larger edition of the little mechanism which we had seen vanish from before our eyes. Parts were of nickel, parts of ivory, parts had certainly been filed or sawn out of rock crystal. The thing was generally complete, but the twisted crystalline bars lay unfinished upon the bench beside some sheets of drawings, and I took one up for a better look at it. Quartz it seemed to be.`Look here,' said the Medical Man, `are you perfectly serious? Or is this a trick--like that ghost you showed us last Christmas?'`Upon that machine,' said the Time Traveller, holding the lamp aloft, `I intend to explore time. Is that plain? I was never more serious in mylife.'None of us quite knew how to take it.I caught Filby's eye over the shoulder of the Medical Man, and he winked at me solemnly.III think that at that time none of us quite believed in the Time Machine. The fact is, the Time Traveller was one of those men who are too clever to be believed: you never felt that you saw all round him; you always suspected some subtle reserve, some ingenuity in ambush, behind his lucid frankness. Had Filby shown the model and explained the matter in the Time Traveller's words, we should have shown HIM far less scepticism. For we should have perceived his motives; a pork butcher could understand Filby. But the Time Traveller had more than a touch of whim among his elements, and we distrusted him. Things that would have made the frame of a less clever man seemed tricks in his hands. It is a mistake to do things too easily. The serious people who took him seriously never felt quite sure of his deportment; they were somehow aware that trusting their reputations for judgment with him was like furnishing a nursery with egg-shell china. So I don't think any of us said very much about time travelling in the interval between that Thursday and the next, though its odd potentialities ran, no doubt, in most of our minds: its plausibility, that is, its practical incredibleness, the curious possibilities of anachronism and of utter confusion it suggested. For my own part, I was particularly preoccupied with the trick of the model. That I remember discussing with the Medical Man, whom I met on Friday at the Linnaean. He said he had seen a similar thing at Tubingen, and laid considerable stress on the blowing out of the candle. But how the trick was done he could not explain.The next Thursday I went again to Richmond--I suppose I was one of the Time Traveller's most constant guests--and, arriving late, found four or five men already assembled in his drawing-room. The Medical Man was standing before the fire with a sheet of paper in one hand and his watch in the other. I looked round for the Time Traveller, and--`It's half-past seven now,' said the Medical Man. `I suppose we'd better have dinner?' `Where's----?' said I, naming our host.`You've just come? It's rather odd. He's unavoidably detained. Heasks me in this note to lead off with dinner at seven if he's not back. Says he'll explain when he comes.'`It seems a pity to let the dinner spoil,' said the Editor of a well-known daily paper; and thereupon the Doctor rang the bell.The Psychologist was the only person besides the Doctor and myself who had attended the previous dinner. The other men were Blank, the Editor aforementioned, a certain journalist, and another--a quiet, shy man with a beard--whom I didn't know, and who, as far as my observation went, never opened his mouth all the evening. There was some speculation at the dinner-table about the Time Traveller's absence, and I suggested time travelling, in a half-jocular spirit. The Editor wanted that explained to him, and the Psychologist volunteered a wooden account of the `ingenious paradox and trick' we had witnessed that day week. He was in the midst of his exposition when the door from the corridor opened slowly and without noise. I was facing the door, and saw it first. `Hallo!' I said. `At last!' And the door opened wider, and the Time Traveller stood before us. I gave a cry of surprise. `Good heavens! man, what's the matter?' cried the Medical Man, who saw him next. And the whole tableful turned towards the door.He was in an amazing plight. His coat was dusty and dirty, and smeared with green down the sleeves; his hair disordered, and as it seemed to me greyer--either with dust and dirt or because its colour had actually faded. His face was ghastly pale; his chin had a brown cut on it--a cut half healed; his expression was haggard and drawn, as by intense suffering. For a moment he hesitated in the doorway, as if he had been dazzled by the light. Then he came into the room. He walked with just such a limp as I have seen in footsore tramps. We stared at him in silence, expecting him to speak.He said not a word, but came painfully to the table, and made a motion towards the wine. The Editor filled a glass of champagne, and pushed it towards him. He drained it, and it seemed to do him good: for he looked round the table, and the ghost of his old smile flickered across his face. `What on earth have you been up to, man?' said the Doctor. The Time Traveller did not seem to hear. `Don't let me disturb you,' he said, with a certain faltering articulation. `I'm all right.' He stopped, held out his glassfor more, and took it off at a draught. `That's good,' he said. His eyes grew brighter, and a faint colour came into his cheeks. His glance flickered over our faces with a certain dull approval, and then went round the warm and comfortable room. Then he spoke again, still as it were feeling his way among his words. `I'm going to wash and dress, and then I'll come down and explain things. . . Save me some of that mutton. I'm starving for a bit of meat.'He looked across at the Editor, who was a rare visitor, and hoped he was all right. The Editor began a question. `Tell you presently,' said the Time Traveller. `I'm--funny! Be all right in a minute.'He put down his glass, and walked towards the staircase door. Again I remarked his lameness and the soft padding sound of his footfall, and standing up in my place, I saw his feet as he went out. He had nothing on them but a pair of tattered blood-stained socks. Then the door closed upon him. I had half a mind to follow, till I remembered how he detested any fuss about himself. For a minute, perhaps, my mind was wool-gathering. Then, 'Remarkable Behaviour of an Eminent Scientist,' I heard the Editor say, thinking (after his wont) in headlines. And this brought my attention back to the bright dinner-table.`What's the game?' said the Journalist. `Has he been doing the Amateur Cadger? I don't follow.' I met the eye of the Psychologist, and read my own interpretation in his face. I thought of the Time Traveller limping painfully upstairs. I don't think any one else had noticed his lameness.The first to recover completely from this surprise was the Medical Man, who rang the bell--the Time Traveller hated to have servants waiting at dinner--for a hot plate. At that the Editor turned to his knife and fork with a grunt, and the Silent Man followed suit. The dinner was resumed. Conversation was exclamatory for a little while, with gaps of wonderment; and then the Editor got fervent in his curiosity. `Does our friend eke out his modest income with a crossing? or has he his Nebuchadnezzar phases?' he inquired. `I feel assured it's this business of the Time Machine,' I said, and took up the Psychologist's account of our previous meeting. The new guests were frankly incredulous. The Editor raised objections. `What W ASthis time travelling? A man couldn't cover himself with dust by rolling in a paradox, could he?' And then, as the idea came home to him, he resorted to caricature. Hadn't they any clothes-brushes in the Future? The Journalist too, would not believe at any price, and joined the Editor in the easy work of heaping ridicule on the whole thing. They were both the new kind of journalist--very joyous, irreverent young men. `Our Special Correspondent in the Day after To-morrow reports,' the Journalist was saying--or rather shouting--when the Time Traveller came back. He was dressed in ordinary evening clothes, and nothing save his haggard look remained of the change that had startled me.`I say,' said the Editor hilariously, `these chaps here say you have been travelling into the middle of next week! Tell us all about little Rosebery, will you? What will you take for the lot?'The Time Traveller came to the place reserved for him without a word. He smiled quietly, in his old way. `Where's my mutton?' he said. `What a treat it is to stick a fork into meat again!'`Story!' cried the Editor.`Story be damned!' said the Time Traveller. `I want something to eat.I won't say a word until I get some peptone into my arteries. Thanks. And the salt.'`One word,' said I. `Have you been time travelling?'`Yes,' said the Time Traveller, with his mouth full, nodding his head.`I'd give a shilling a line for a verbatim note,' said the Editor. The Time Traveller pushed his glass towards the Silent Man and rang it with his fingernail; at which the Silent Man, who had been staring at his face, started convulsively, and poured him wine. The rest of the dinner was uncomfortable. For my own part, sudden questions kept on rising to my lips, and I dare say it was the same with the others. The Journalist tried to relieve the tension by telling anecdotes of Hettie Potter. The Time Traveller devoted his attention to his dinner, and displayed the appetite of a tramp. The Medical Man smoked a cigarette, and watched the Time Traveller through his eyelashes. The Silent Man seemed even more clumsy than usual, and drank champagne with regularity and determination out of sheer nervousness. At last the Time Traveller pushedhis plate away, and looked round us. `I suppose I must apologize,' he said. `I was simply starving. I've had a most amazing time.' He reached out his hand for a cigar, and cut the end. `But come into the smoking-room. It's too long a story to tell over greasy plates.' And ringing the bell in passing, he led the way into the adjoining room.`You have told Blank, and Dash, and Chose about the machine?' he said to me, leaning back in his easy-chair and naming the three new guests.`But the thing's a mere paradox,' said the Editor.`I can't argue to-night. I don't mind telling you the story, but I can't argue. I will,' he went on, `tell you the story of what has happened to me, if you like, but you must refrain from interruptions. I want to tell it. Badly. Most of it will sound like lying. So be it! It's true--every word of it, all the same. I was in my laboratory at four o'clock, and since then . . . I've lived eight days . . . such days as no human being ever lived before! I'm nearly worn out, but I shan't sleep till I've told this thing over to you. Then I shall go to bed. But no interruptions! Is it agreed?'`Agreed,' said the Editor, and the rest of us echoed `Agreed.' And with that the Time Traveller began his story as I have set it forth. He sat back in his chair at first, and spoke like a weary man. Afterwards he got more animated. In writing it down I feel with only too much keenness the inadequacy of pen and ink --and, above all, my own inadequacy--to express its quality. You read, I will suppose, attentively enough; but you cannot see the speaker's white, sincere face in the bright circle of the little lamp, nor hear the intonation of his voice. You cannot know how his expression followed the turns of his story! Most of us hearers were in shadow, for the candles in the smoking-room had not been lighted, and only the face of the Journalist and the legs of the Silent Man from the knees downward were illuminated. At first we glanced now and again at each other. After a time we ceased to do that, and looked only at the Time Traveller's face.。
《时间机器》梗概作文
《时间机器》梗概作文英文回答："The Time Machine" is a science fiction novel written by H.G. Wells. It tells the story of a scientist and inventor known as the Time Traveller, who builds a time machine and travels to the future. The story is narrated by the Time Traveller himself.In the beginning of the story, the Time Traveller gathers a group of friends at his home and demonstrates his time machine. He explains that he has built the machine to travel through time, and he plans to journey to the future. His friends are skeptical but intrigued.The Time Traveller embarks on his journey and finds himself in the year 802,701 AD. He discovers a future world where humanity has evolved into two distinct species the Eloi and the Morlocks. The Eloi are small, childlike creatures who live above ground and seem to have a carefreeexistence. The Morlocks, on the other hand, are ape-like creatures who live underground and prey on the Eloi.As the Time Traveller explores this future world, he becomes fascinated by the Eloi and their seemingly perfect society. However, he soon realizes that the Eloi are not as innocent as they appear. They lack curiosity and intelligence, and seem to have no desire to improve their situation. The Morlocks, on the other hand, are the true rulers of this world, controlling the Eloi and using them as a source of food.The Time Traveller manages to escape from the Morlocks and continues his journey into the future. He witnesses the ultimate fate of the Earth, as it becomes a desolate and barren landscape. He then travels back to his own time and shares his story with his friends."The Time Machine" explores themes of evolution, social class, and the potential consequences of human progress. It raises questions about the nature of humanity and the impact of technology on society. The novel serves as acautionary tale, warning against the dangers of complacency and the importance of intellectual curiosity.中文回答：《时间机器》是H.G.威尔斯写的一部科幻小说。
the time machine 原文选修四课文
the time machine 原文选修四课文时光机It was at ten o’clock today that the first of all Time Machines began its career. I gave it a last check, and sat myself in the leather seat. I pushed the starting lever on the main panel forwards an inch then immediately backwards again. Looking around, I saw my laboratory exactly as before. Had anything happened? I thought my mind had tricked me. Then I saw the clock. A moment before, it was a minute or so past ten; now it was nearly half past three!今天十点钟，第一台时间机器开始了它的事业。
我最后检查了它一次，自己坐在真皮座椅上。
我将主板上的启动杆向前推了一英寸，然后又立即向后推。
环顾四周，我看到我的实验室和以前一模一样。
发生什么事了吗？我以为我的思想欺骗了我。
然后我看到了钟。
刚才是十点一分左右，现在快三点半了！I drew a breath, gripped the lever and pushed it forwards. The laboratory went hazy around me. My niece came in to fetch something, maybe her handkerchief, apparently without seeing me. It probably took her a minute, but to me she moved like a rocket!I pushed the lever further. Night came as if a lamp was being turned out, and in another moment came the day. Tomorrow night came, then skipped to day, again and again, faster and faster still.我吸了一口气，握紧启动杆，把它往前推。
《时间机器》(The Time Machine)500字读后感
《时间机器》（The Time Machine）500字读后感《时间机器》是赫伯特·乔治·威尔斯的一部经典科幻小说，通过主人公的时间机器穿越到未来，揭示了时间、文明和人类命运的深刻思考。
这部作品以其独特的科学幻想和哲学内涵，深刻影响了后来的科幻文学。
小说以一个不具名的主人公为叙述者，他发明了一台时间机器，将自己带入了未来。
随着时间的推移，主人公亲历了地球的演化，见证了文明的兴盛和衰亡。
他发现地球上分裂成两个对立的部落，丽萨族代表美好的未来，而莫洛克族则象征着堕落和毁灭。
威尔斯通过小说中的未来景象，提出了对社会演变的独特见解。
他对未来的悲观预测和对社会分化的描绘，让读者深感对于人类未来命运的不安。
小说中的两个部落成为对人类文明兴衰的象征，引发了对社会演进和人性的深刻反思。
时间机器的发明标志着科技的飞速发展，威尔斯通过科技与社会的关系，探讨了科技可能对人类文明带来的影响。
时间机器使主人公能够窥见未来，但这种科技进步并非总是带来美好的结果。
威尔斯对科技对社会可能产生的负面影响进行了深刻的揭示，提醒人们在科技发展中保持警惕。
此外，小说中的时间旅行也成为一种哲学的工具，引导读者思考时间、生命和社会的关系。
主人公在未来的历险中，感受到时间的流逝和人类文明的无常。
这使得读者在惊险的故事背后，感受到对时间和人类历史的深刻思索。
威尔斯通过《时间机器》展现了对未来社会和科技的深刻洞察。
这部作品不仅是一场科幻冒险，更是对社会、时间和人性的哲学思考。
作为科幻文学的奠基之作，《时间机器》持续挑战着读者对时间和未知的想象，留下深远的文学
遗产。
thetimemachine第一章概括
thetimemachine第一章概括
《时间机器》第一章概括
《时间机器》是英国作家赫伯特·乔治·威尔斯所著的科幻小说。
第一章
为整本小说的开篇，引出了整个故事的背景和主要人物。
下面是对第一章的
概括：
第一章以一种富有科学想象力的方式引领读者进入故事。
故事的讲述者
是一个匿名的时间旅行者，他向一群好奇的朋友们展示了一个小型模型，它
被他称为“时间机器”。
这个模型的设计是为了能够让人穿越时间并探索未来。
时间旅行者开始讲述他的冒险故事，他告诉大家他如何穿越了年代，来
到了公元802701年的未来。
在那个时代，人类社会已经发生了巨大的变化。
旅行者发现人类已经分化成了两个不同的族群：埋头苦干、简单朴素的“伊
洛伊人”和放任自由、愉悦享乐的“莫洛克人”。
伊洛伊人过着和平而简朴的
生活，而莫洛克人则成为了伊洛伊人的统治者，他们以伊洛伊人为食物。
时间旅行者逐渐发现，随着时间的推移，整个地球的环境也发生了巨变。
地表上的建筑物几乎消失，草木蛮荒，只剩下一些废墟和洞穴。
人类社会的
演化变得不可预测，而时间也成为了一个不可逆转的线性流动。
第一章以一种引人入胜的方式展示了未来世界的奇妙景象和社会的再造。
读者在这一章中对时间旅行者的冒险充满了好奇和期待，同时也提出了许多
问题，促使他们继续阅读下去。
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《时间机器》TheTimeMachinethe time machinebyjohn loganfebruary 22, 2000int. columbia university - lecture hall - daydarkness. then a sound...click-clack, click-clack, click-clack...the familiar sound of chalk writing on a blackboard.fade up to see...a hand zooming across a blackboard at incredible speed,forming an endless algebraic equation.amazingly, when the writer reaches the end of the blackboardhe does not lift the chalk and return to the left side tobegin a new line -- instead he simply loops around andcontinues writing, right to left, upside down.the college students in his class -- all male and dressed inlate victorian clothes -- smile at this familiar peculiarityand tilt their heads to try and read the endless equation,copying furiously into notebooks.the hand continues to zoom along the blackboard... and then slows... and then stops... the students wait... the hand tapsthe chalk on the blackboard for a moment and we finally see...alexander hartdegen, a handsome young man not much older than his students, standing at the blackboard. he is gazing out a window, looking at a bird on a tree branch. he smiles.the students glance to one another.alexander remembers himself and turns back to the blackboard, his hand again flying as:alexanderso -- length, width, breadth --formulate the area and of course wearrive at solid mass. but imagineif we continue the equation as i'vedone -- can't we begin to recognizeanother dimension beyond the firstthree? i theorize we begin to findduration -- the object's place intime. let's note that as 'd'here...alexander reaches the left side of the blackboard and loopsaround again in an unbroken line to continue the equationfrom left to right again.the students are hopelessly lost. they finally stop copying and just watch alexander work, admiring his brilliant innovation.meanwhile, a man watches from the back of the lecture hall. he is david philby, alexander's closest friend, a bit older.alexander... if we accept the theoreticalpossibility of duration as a fourthdimension we find that our equationmight -- no, that's not right --he erases some numbers quickly with his hand, sending up a cloud of chalk dust, he coughs.alexander-- there, that looks more likeit...he continues to scribble at lightning speed. then...he begins humming to himself.the students watch, amused. philby smiles.alexander finally stops humming and writing. steps back and looks at the equation. then he turns to his students.alexanderdoes this make any sense to you?the students are confused. one offers:studentsir, if i may, wouldn't it beeasier if you applied a fibonaccisequence to the differentialcoefficient?alexander(smiles)it's not supposed to be easy, it'ssupposed to be beautiful... all ofyou think about that tonight andwe'll press on tomorrow. goodafternoon.the students begin to rise, class over. they leave the classroom talking eagerly about alexander's theories, inspired.a sudden new angle: from above we see alexander going to philby, leaving the classroom talking with him. we are inthe upper balcony of the classroom. a solitary figure looks down, watching them.this new figure is a thin man with pale skin, dry like parchment. somehow ominous.int. columbia - hallway - dayalexander walks with philby:alexander... the point is i know it willwork once the, um, numbers and suchare in order.philbydo you know you were humming?alexanderi was not.philbysomewhere around 'd+2xy somethingsomething.'alexanderdamned if i can keep her out of myequations.philbytonight's the night?alexander(checking pocket watch)god, and i'm running late --a prim woman appears before them:prim womandr. hartdegen, dr. philby... deanfulton would like to see you.alexander and philby exchange a look. gulp. they follow the prim woman.int. columbia - dean fulton's office - daythey follow the prim woman, dean fulton's secretary, into his dark, paneled office.prim womanhe's outside.alexander and philby move through the office and out to a garden courtyard...ext. columbia - garden courtyard - dayoddly, chickens are clucking about the courtyard.the thin man we saw before, dean fulton, is casually tossing down feed for the chickens. with his other hand he carriesan umbrella to protect himself from the sun. he does notlook up.dean fultongentlemen, watch your step.alexander and philby stop. dean fulton looks up and smiles, benevolent.dean fultonmy fowl have polluted the yard.philbydean fulton...dean fulton continues to lazily scatter feed for his chickens.dean fultondr. philby, dr. hartdegen. ireceived the most extraordinaryletter last week. from a parent.we are always pleased to receiveletters from parents. they are ouremployers, after all. thisgentleman's son is in your class,dr. hartdegen.alexander(knows what's coming)i see.dean fultonas i recall the syllabus the nameof your tutorial is 'appliedmathematics and engineering', am icorrect?alexanderexactly correct, sir.dean fulton stops scattering feed and gazes at alexander with a smile. this is an old game between them and they both rather enjoy it. to a point.dean fultonwell, just as i thought. surelyit's all been a terrible mistake.this parent actually suggested thatyour freshman course in appliedmathematics has somehow become aseminar on theoretical physics!alexanderimagine that.dean fultonbut i know that none of my facultywould ever deviate from theassigned curriculum.alexanderwell... perhaps i have 'deviated'the tiniest bit.dean fultonmight i ask why?alexanderbecause the assigned curriculum isboring.philby groans very quietly.alexandersir, that curriculum is forty yearsout of date. the students todayare looking toward the new century-- they want to be challenged andinspired, not spoon-fed dusty oldequations that have been proved athousand times. they want toexplore.dean fultondo they?dean fulton smiles and then begins to scatter feed again.dean fultonwhat are these animals, gentlemen? alexander and philby exchange a look.philbyum, your chickens, sir.alexander helpfully offers:alexanderand roosters.dean fultonno, dr. hartdegen, they are notjust chickens and roosters. theyare science. perhaps they aren't'inspiring' to you. perhaps theydon't 'challenge' you --alexanderno, sir --dean fultonanimal husbandry is science, dr.hartdegen. i have been breedingthese fowl for fourteen years. ihave filled a library withinformation on their feedingpatterns, social behavior andbreeding. empirical, exacting,quantifiable records.alexandersir --dean fulton looks up at him, his eyes cold:dean fulton'duration' is not a dimension.scientists do not imagine the worldaround them. they do not wool-gather or cloud-spin. they prove.they demonstrate. columbiauniversity does not teach fantasy.philby shoots alexander a warning look, but alexander can't help himself:alexanderwith respect, sir, would we havethe telegraph without fantasy?would we have radium and x-rayswithout someone first dreaming wecould?dean fultonthe advances you speak of were theresult of countless years of studyand empirical experimentation, acareful evolutionary process, notchalkboard parlor-tricks.alexandermy equations are not parlor-tricks!dean fultonabstract mathematics, relativity ofdimensions, geometrical 'durations'-- even allowing for the uses ofspeculation, what is the point?alexanderbecause it's a new way of seeingthe world! of seeing our place init!philbysir, if i may --dean fulton(with finality, toalexander)young man, we have a way of doingthings here. radical theorizing isnot acceptable. have i made myselfunderstood?alexanderyes, sir.dean fultonvery good. now if you will excuseus for a moment.alexander goes back into the office.philbyif i might explain, sir --dean fultonyou supported his application, dr.philby. you are his senior,advisor. i depend upon you torestrain his... excesses. anyrepetition of the behavior iwitnessed in his classroom todayand there will be consequences foryou both.philbyyes, sir.dean fultonnow you are upsetting my fowl.please go.philby extricates himself from a chicken pecking at his shoe and goes.alexander (v.o.)he's a dinosaur. he's alreadyextinct, he just doesn't know it...ext. streetcar - dayalexander and philby are in an open horse-drawn streetcar, heading downtown. everywhere around them, the massive city bustles.new york city at the end of the 19th century. it is vibrantto the point of frenzy; reaching for the future in a furious upheaval of construction.title: new york city - may 12, 1895 - 5:17 p.m.alexander... one day he'll be discovered bysome future archeologists and theywon't know what to make of him.the thick brow, so lacking inimagination. the dim little eyes,devoid of curiosity.philbyyou know generally teachers aresupposed to teach real equationsthat add up to real numbers.alexanderwhere's the challenge in that?philbyalex, this is your first year as anassociate professor. you mightwant to play things a little moreconservatively.alexanderyou sound like my father...alexander points to the masses of grey businessmen, all in identical bowler hats, marching along the sidewalk:alexanderlook at them, philby, all alike,everyone in an identical bowlerhat. do you want your students toturn out like them?philbyi want my students to emerge withtheoretical and practicalknowledge.alexanderi don't. i want them to run alongthis street and knock off everybowler they see.philbyyou may not like it, but this isthe world we live in, alex. littlegrey men with little grey hats.alexanderbut shouldn't it be better?shouldn't we be teaching ourstudents to imagine a world beyondall this?alexander points to a new building going up, a complex spider's web of steel girders.alexanderlook at that, philby. a steelframe building. ten years ago itwas unheard of. no little grey manthought of that. the new centurybelongs to men who are willing toimagine the impossible...their streetcar passes a few huddled beggars on the curb. the businessmen ignore them. alexander watches them, his eyes sad.alexander(quietly)in the future, we'll be better.philbywhat?alexandernothing.ext. alexander's house - eveningalexander's sprawling victorian house sits on a quiet street. there is a quaint shop right across the street. the shop features a window showing a female mannequin dressed in period clothes. the sign above the shop: branson's apparel and haberdashery.alexander and philby hurry into his house...int. alexander's house - eveningalexander's house is a lovely world of victorian elegance constantly at war with his erratic and creative enterprises. everywhere alexander's scientific passions are evident: animal skulls rest alongside leather-bound tomes; mechanical inventions in various states of completion rest atop heavy mahogany tables; test tubes and microscopes are spread out on an unused piano.the one facet that most immediately reflects alexander is aural: the ticking of scores of clocks; a steady metronomic cadence.alexander bounds in, philby following.alexandermrs. watchit! mrs. watchit!mrs. watchit, alexander's housekeeper, troops down the stairs. she is a wry and commanding british woman in her60's.mrs. watchitoh huzzah, the master's home.alexanderdo you have it?!mrs. watchithello, mr. philby.philbyhello, mrs. watchit. you'relooking in the pink.mrs. watchitmust be all the exercise i getscampering up and down these stairslike a wee lamb.alexanderdon't torture me -- do you have it?mrs. watchiti have it, but don't you think forone moment i'll be letting you goout in that filthy coat -- now goupstairs and change. i've laid outyour green coat.alexanderwhat's the matter with -- ?(he notes he is coveredin chalk dust)-- what would i do without you,mrs. watchit?he bounds up the stairs. phiby follows.mrs. watchitand change your tie!she bustles off, grumbling happily.int. alexander's bedroom - eveningcharles darwin stares at us. imposing. inspiring. challenging.a bust of darwin looms over alexander's bedroom. alexander, in a new coat, is trying to work a complicated knot in his tie. his eyes study the problem in a mirror.alexanderemma actually likes chalk dust --says it smells like me.philbyhow romantic...philby goes to alexander, helps him with his tie.philbythe most able inventor i know andyou can't tie a simple four-in-hand.alexanderthat's how i knew we were destinedto be together. when i met herparents for the first time i cameright from class and i was coveredin chalk. they sniffed andsnorted, but she just smiled. atthat moment -- i just knew. howdid you know with molly?philbyshe made the best shepherd's pie iever tasted.alexanderdo you have a romantic bone in yourbody?philby(completing the tie)no, i'm all bowler hat, remember?alexander quickly goes to his old coat and transfers his pocket watch, journal and many loose scraps of paper covered in equations to the new coat as:philbyalex, really... good luck tonight.she's a fine girl, and she's donewonderful things for you.alexanderoh?philby(smiles)she's gotten into your equations.alexander stops, looks at him. smiles.alexanderi guess she has.he glances at his pocket watch.alexanderi've got to hurry...he hurries out, philby following...int. alexander's house - stairs - eveningalexander races down the stairs, tucking the watch into his vest.they pass a series of clocks of every size and shape that run down the wall along the stairway.philbyall these clocks -- how can youconstantly be running late?!alexanderperseverance.int. alexander's house - entry hall - eveningmrs. watchit waits. alexander and philby appear down the stairs.mrs. watchitnow that's more like it. you looka proper gentlemen for once.alexanderthen if emma turns me down will youmarry me?mrs. watchit(dry)oh, i'm already swooning.alexanderouch -- all right, wish me luck.he begins to sprint out the door -- mrs. watchit stops him with:mrs. watchityou might be wanting this?she holds up a velvet ring box. he takes the box.alexanderoh -- thanks. well...(a wink to philby)... time's a wastin'!with that he is out the door.mrs. watchit and philby stand for a moment, catching their breath after alexander's tornado of enthusiasm.philbyi wonder if that poor girl has anyidea what she's in for?mrs. watchitfor our sake, i hope not.ext. fifth avenue - nightthe many luxurious horse-drawn carriages glide along fifth avenue with stately dignity. rich pedestrians stroll alongthe sidewalk.alexander leaps out of a carriage and begins to stride toward an entrance to central park.he passes a flower seller.flower sellerhave some flowers, sir?alexandernot tonight, thanks.he continues on toward the entrance to the park -- stops.alexanderno -- i promised her flowers.he turns around and hurries back toward the flower seller. but...a sudden mechanical clanking sound makes him stop dead in his tracks. the siren's song...he turns...pulled over to the curb is a magnificent stanley steamer automobile. it is a glorious collection of bronze and copperand steel and wooden dashboard and leather upholstery and groaning steam tank and clanking engine. alexander stares, transfixed.alexander glances at his watch -- running late -- but he justcan't resist this new marvel. flowers forgotten, alexandersteps to the motorist, currently tinkering with the car'sengine.alexanderit's spectacular...motoristthanks. old nell's my girl allright. al least when she decidesto move, stubborn beast.alexander(walking around the car,admiring)i've only read about them -- andthe new internals.motoristnow that's what i call plain crazy-- internal combustion is just toodangerous, all those littleexplosions, never catch on.alexanderhow do you keep the watertemperature stable?motoristthere's a cantilevered gasket onthe --suddenly -- the car lurches forward dangerously -- alexander instantly grabs the brake lever and hauls it back -- the car screeches to a stop.motoristgod -- could have killed me -- badgirl, nell! how did you know to dothat?alexanderi just love mechanical things.motoristwell, much obliged -- i'm alwaysforgetting the confounded brake --say, if you wait until i get her upand running i'll give you aperambulation. tell you all abouther.alexander(pained)ahhh... i'm afraid i've got a priorcommitment.motoristnext time then. we perambulatehere most every night.alexanderyou have my word...(he takes a last, longinglook at the car)... she's just a beauty.he sprints off into central park.ext. pavilion - central park - nighta full moon shines in the night sky.gentle period music from a band, glowing lanterns hanging down and the swaying shapes of dancers.we are at a beautiful pavilion in central park. a magical antique setting of ease and grace. white linen suits and straw boaters. parasols and high-button shoes.a beautiful woman stands with her back to us watching the dancers... she slowly turns...emma smiles.alexander stands, just watching her, bewitched.then they come together and kiss lightly, as befits 1895 decency.emmayou're late.alexandergot here as soon as i could.emmadance with me...alexanderyou know i can't.emmatrust me...she takes his hand and they dance. she is a natural dancer, smooth and gentle. he does his best, following her minutecues with great sensitivity.as they dance:emmayou promised me flowers.alexanderwhat?emmayou promised me flowers tonight,don't you even remember?alexandersorry... i was distracted.emma(lightly)well there's something new.alexanderi need to... um... talk to you.emmatalk away, professor.alexandernot here... alone. may we?please?she leads him from the dance floor.emmalet's walk through the park...ext. central park - path - nightalexander and emma walk through the park, arm in arm, enjoying the exquisite night.flickering gaslights provide a dim illumination on the path they follow as it winds through the dark foliage.emma(looking atconstellations)... orion's belt, pointing to theearth. you see it over the rocksthere? sailors consider that anomen of good fortune; the hunterwatching over them on theirtravels... are you listening to me,alex?alexander(glancing up)what? yes -- orion -- good fortune-- sailors.emmaall right, what is it now?alexander(nervously)emma, you know i have great...admiration for you.emmaadmiration? my my.alexanderi mean... well... affection.emmayou're getting warmer.he stops.alexanderoh dammit, i love you! i can'teat, i can't sleep, i can't think,all i do is moon over you and --hum, apparently.emma(mock seriously)and what do you propose, professor?shall we hold a seminar to studythe problem?a beat. he takes a huge gulp of air and then commits himself -- he dramatically drops to one knee -- and then in a greatrush of words:alexandermarry me. i'll do everything i canto make you happy and build a lifeand have babies and make you proudand be worthy of you and... ah...make you happy, did i say that?she looks down at him, tears of joy coming to her eyes.emmaoh, professor...he leaps up and embraces her. a long, joyous embrace.he stops --alexanderwait, i have something for you.he searches through his many pockets -- coat, vest, pants --begins plucking out the loose scraps of paper covered with equations -- but can't seem to find the jewelry box.she watches him for a moment, amused, loving him all the more for his befuddlement.emmayou know, the moment is ratherdying here.alexanderhold on... i know i have it...he finally finds the velvet jewelry box. snaps it open. inside is a lovely moonstone ring. the gem is a pale, translucent blue mirroring the full moon above.alexanderi know it's not a diamond but --emmaa moonstone.alexanderyour birth stone. i thought --she holds a finger to his lips.emmayou thought right.he slips the ring on her finger. she holds it up to the moonlight, deeply moved.emmalook, it matches the moon...then...a low voice from the thick trees next to them.voicei just might cry.alexander and emma turn to see a tall thin man stepping from the trees. his hands are buried deep in his overcoat pockets.thin mancouldn't help but overhearing. twofine young people starting out onthe road of life. i wish you thevery best.alexanderthank you...thin mani hope it's a happy journey for youboth -- and much as i hate to dothis, moved as i am by yourprotestations of love, i'll beneeding your money now.alexander(smiles)sir...?thin manand your jewelry too. i guess wecould consider this your firstlittle bump on the road to marriedbliss.alexanderi don't understand.the thin man removes a hand from his pocket. he holds a small revolver.thin mannow don't make a scene... there'sno cause for that. just hand overyour wallet, will you?he holds the gun up, lethal, a sudden glint as the barrel shines in the moonlight.thin mandid you hear me, lad?alexanderall right, all right -- here --everything --alexander swiftly gives the man his billfold.thin manand the watch.alexander hands over his pocket watch as the thin man eyes emma's ring.thin manand the ring.emmano --thin mani'm afraid so, darling. maybehe'll buy you a diamond now.alexanderplease, not that -- look --the thin man pulls back the hammer of the revolver. click.thin mangive me the ring.emmano...the thin man suddenly lurches forward and grabs emma's arm --trying to wrench the ring violently from her finger --alexander instantly springs to her defense -- a struggle --the gun fires -- the flash of cruel, phosphorous light momentarily illuminating them all starkly --emma recoils to alexander -- alexander looks at the thin man,disbelieving --the thin man glares at him --thin manwhy did you do that?! it's only aring!the thin man races away into the darkness.alexander holds emma, she clings to him, blood flowing over his fingers. he snatches her up and carries her -- running urgently through some trees to a carriage path beyond -- carriages filled with young lovers float past.alexanderhelp me! please!an empty carriage finally stops -- alexander lurches into the carriage with emma --int./ ext. carriage - central park - night-- alexander holds emma in the back of a carriage. he urgently screams to the driver:alexanderget to columbus hospital! now!the driver whips his horses and the carriage takes off.alexanderplease hurry! we've no time!carriage driveri'm trying sir -- !emma clings to alexander, her hand clasped tight to his vest, blood flowing out of her, pooling. her dying eyes just watching him.alexandergod hurry please -- just get out ofthe park --and then the carriage slows -- stops -- alexander stabs his head out the window and sees --a long line of carriage ahead of them. a traffic jam. pairs of lovers enjoying the beautiful night, gazing up at the stars.alexanderoh god...a distant bell begins to toll. time inexorably, cruelly moving on.alexanderplease -- hurry!the driver whips the horse -- tries to maneuver the carriage through the traffic jam -- a jumble of horses -- their horse shies -- can't get through.emma's hand clutches alexander's vest, fingers moving slightly. the bell continues to toll. time running out.her lips move noiselessly, her eyes stare up at him, prayingfor one parting glance.he continues to shout to the driver, fighting time, notlooking at her:alexander(desperate)for god sake do something!! --just -- get off the path!carriage driveri'm trying, sir! -- i can't getthrough!alexander glances down to emma. she is dead. her eyes open. he stares at her. not wanting to believe. the bellcontinues to toll.fade to black...and then a strange sound in the darkness...the roar of a tiger -- distorted, echoing...then another sound...click-clack, click-clack, click-clack...chalk racing across a blackboard.title: four years later.fade up to...int. alexander's house - lab - dayan endless equation -- alexander's hand speeds across a blackboard -- manic, ferocious. we pull back to reveal...an enormous blackboard, floor to ceiling, two stories high,filling one wall -- and two other blackboards, filling twoother walls, also covered with equations. a shocking flashof alexander's fevered mind.he stands with his back to us, perched high on a rollinglibrary ladder, his hand violently scrawling numbers in afrenzied rush. he pulls the ladder along as he works,totally absorbed.the drapes around the room are drawn tight against any hintof the day outside. windows sealed.in the flickering gaslight we see a cacophony of scientific equipment and experiments filling every inch of the chamber below him, two stories filled with beakers and test tubes; microscopes and coils; engineering blueprints and gyroscopes;and the huge chalkboards crowded with layers upon layers of intense calculus and geometry and equations.there is another large part of the lab, jutting off from the。