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堂吉诃德|Don Quixote

Part 2 第73章|Part 2 Chapter 71

属类： 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 塞万提斯] 阅读：[44418]
《堂吉诃德》是一部幽默诙谐、滑稽可笑、充满了奇思妙想的长篇文学巨著。此书主要描写了一个有趣、可敬、可悲、喜欢自欺欺人的没落贵族堂吉诃德，他痴狂地迷恋古代骑士小说，以至于放弃家业，用破甲驽马装扮成古代骑士的样子，再雇佣农民桑乔作侍从，三次出征周游全国，去创建所谓的扶弱锄强的骑士业绩。他们在征险的生涯中闹出了许多笑话，到处碰壁受辱，堂吉诃德多次被打成重伤，有一次还被当成疯子关在笼子里遣送回乡。最后，他因征战不利郁郁寡欢而与世长辞，临终前他那一番貌似悔悟的话语让人匪夷所思又哭笑不得。
《 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 》
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锡德·哈迈德说，唐吉诃德进村时，看到两个孩子正在打谷场上吵架。一个孩子说：

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“你死心吧，佩里吉略，你这辈子别想再看到她了。”

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唐吉诃德听见了，问桑乔：

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“你听见那个孩子的话了吗，朋友？他说：‘你这辈子别想再看到她了。’”

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“听见了，”桑乔说，“那又有什么关系呢？”

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“什么关系？”唐吉诃德说，“那句话是冲我说的，意思是说我这辈子别想再看到杜尔西内亚了。”

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桑乔刚要说话，忽然看见野地里有一只兔子正向他们跑来，许多猎狗和猎人在后面追赶。兔子吓得东躲西藏，最后窜到了驴肚子下面。桑乔伸手抓住兔子，把它交给了唐吉诃德。唐吉诃德喃喃自语道：

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“不祥之兆，不祥之兆！猎狗追，兔子跑，杜尔西内亚见不到！”

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“您真怪，”桑乔说，“就算这只兔子是杜尔西内亚，后面追赶的是把她变成农妇的可恶的魔法师，她不是已经脱身了吗？而且，我又把它抓住交给了您，您正把它抱在怀里抚摸，这里有什么不祥之兆呢？”

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两个吵架的孩子也跑来看兔子。桑乔问其中一个孩子刚才为什么吵架。那个说过“你这辈子别想再见到她了”的孩子说，他拿了另外一个孩子的一笼子蟋蟀，打算一辈子不还了。桑乔从衣袋里掏出四文钱，送给那个孩子，向他要过那个笼子，再把它交给唐吉诃德，并且说道：

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“大人，这样不祥之兆就被打消了。其实，它和咱们的事根本没关系。我虽然笨，可是我知道，这些预兆只是过眼烟云。如果我没记错的话，我记得咱们村的神甫说过，基督徒和聪明人不该注意这些枝节小事。您前几天也对我说过，相信兆头的人都是傻瓜。咱们不值得在这些事情上纠缠，还是进村吧。”

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猎人们跑过来要兔子，唐吉诃德把兔子给了他们。两人又往前走，在村口看到神甫和卡拉斯科学士正在一块草地上祈祷。应该说一下，在阿尔蒂西多拉还魂的那天晚上，桑乔曾穿过一件画满火焰的麻布衣服。现在，桑乔却把这件衣服当作盖布盖住了驴和放在驴背上的盔甲，还把那顶纸高帽戴到了驴头上。可以说，世界上从没有驴是这种打扮。神甫和学士马上认出了唐吉诃德和桑乔，张开双臂过来迎接他们。唐吉诃德下了马，紧紧拥抱了神甫和学士。孩子们眼尖，一下子就发现了驴头上的纸高帽，都跑过来看，而且还互相招呼着：

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“伙伴们，快来看啊，桑乔·潘萨的驴打扮得多么漂亮！

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唐吉诃德的马可是比以前更瘦了。”

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唐吉诃德和桑乔在神甫和学士的陪伴下以及孩子们的簇拥下进了村子。他们先来到唐吉诃德家。唐吉诃德的女管家和外甥女听说唐吉诃德要回来了，正在门口等着呢。桑乔的老婆特雷莎·潘萨也听到了消息，披头散发、袒胸露背地拉着女儿桑奇卡跑来找丈夫。她见桑乔没有如她想象的那样像个总督似的穿得衣冠楚楚，便对桑乔说道：

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“你怎么这个样子呀，我的丈夫？看你像是走回来的，一定把脚走疼了。我看你像个逃难的，哪里像什么总督！”

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“别说了，特雷莎，”桑乔说，“以为有好事的地方，常常根本就没那么回事。咱们先回家吧，我有好多新鲜事要告诉你呢。我带钱回来了。这是大事。钱是我想法子挣的，谁也没坑。”

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“别管是怎么挣的，”特雷莎说，“只要带回钱来就行，我的好丈夫。无论怎样挣，你也不会挣出什么新花样。”

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桑奇卡抱着父亲，问他为自己带了什么东西，她一直在等着呢。女儿一手抓着桑乔的腰带，一手牵着驴，特雷莎拉着丈夫的手，一起回了家。唐吉诃德家里只剩下唐吉诃德、女管家和外甥女。神甫和学士也留下来陪伴唐吉诃德。

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唐吉诃德立刻把学士和神甫拉到一边，简单地介绍了自己如何吃败仗，按讲定的条件得在家里呆一年；他是真正的游侠骑士，决心恪守条件的规定，不越雷池一步。他又说，他打算这一段时间过无忧无虑的牧羊生活，在田野树林里抒发他的情思。他还请求神甫和学士，如果没有其他重大的事情，就来跟他作伴。他要买一大群羊，并且已经为他们取了世界上最有牧歌风味的名字。神甫问他都是什么名字。唐吉诃德说，他本人叫牧羊人吉诃蒂斯，学士叫牧羊人卡拉斯孔，神甫叫牧羊人库里昂布罗，桑乔·潘萨叫牧羊人潘希诺。

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神甫和学士眼见他的疯劲又有了新花样，十分吃惊，但是想到这样可以把他留在家乡，并且可望在这一年内治好他那游侠骑士的疯癫，于是就接受了他这种牧羊生涯的痴想，并且表示愿与他共度牧羊生涯。

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“大家都知道，”参孙·卡拉斯科说，“我作诗是非常在行的，我可以写好多好多牧歌。咱们在田野里漫游时，可以引吭高歌。不过，先生们，有件事可别忘了：咱们得给自己歌颂的牧羊姑娘选一个名字，这是绝对必要的。还别忘了多情的牧羊人的习惯：不管树有多硬，要在每棵树上都刻上那个牧羊姑娘的名字。”

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“你讲得太对了，”唐吉诃德答道，“不过，我是不用费神给虚拟的牧羊姑娘找名字了，因为我的心已经被绝代佳人杜尔西内亚占据了。她是河边的光环，草原的花朵，美女的典范，风雅的楷模，总之，对她极尽赞颂也毫不过分。”

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“是这样，”神甫说，“但我们还得为我们的牧羊姑娘起几个名字，即使没有很合适的，也得找几个差不多的。”

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参孙·卡拉斯科说道：

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“如果没有合适的名字，咱们可以借用书上的。书上有的是，什么菲丽达、阿玛丽丝、迪亚娜丝、弗莱丽达丝、加拉特娅丝、贝丽萨尔达丝等等。这些在市场上就有卖的，咱们买回来就是咱们的。假如我那位夫人，最好说我那位牧羊姑娘，名叫安娜，我就以安娜尔达的名字歌颂她；如果她叫弗朗西丝卡，我就叫她弗朗塞妮亚；她若是叫露西亚，我就叫她露辛达，这就行了。如果桑乔·潘萨愿意加入进来，可以把他老婆特雷莎·潘萨称为特雷萨依娜。”

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唐吉诃德听到这些名字，不禁笑了。神甫再次称赞他的决定英明，表示只要不忙就来跟他作伴。然后他们二人告辞，同时还劝他注意保养身体。

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女管家和外甥女跟往常一样偷听了他们的谈话。神甫和学士刚走，她们俩就进来找唐吉诃德。外甥女说：

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“这是怎么回事，舅舅？我们以为您这次回来会老老实实地呆在家里，过点清闲日子呢，可是您又想起了什么馊主意，说什么——

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小牧童你来了，

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小牧童你又走了。

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老实说吧，您这把年纪，干什么都力不从心了。”

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女管家也说道：

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“大人，旷野里奔波，夏天的烈日，冬天的寒霜，您怎么受得了？还有豺狼的嚎叫哩！老天保佑！大人，您连想也别去想。那行当只配给天生干那活儿的人去干，给健壮如牛的人去干。当游侠骑士纵有千不好，万不好，也比当牧羊人强。说实话，主人，听我的忠告吧。我并不是吃饱了撑得胡乱说，我还在吃斋修身哩。我都五十多了，还是听我的吧：守在家里，照料一下家业，常做忏悔，帮穷人做点好事，要是有什么灾害降临，全由我顶着好了。”

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唐吉诃德说：“孩子们，别多说，该干什么我心中有数。我这会儿觉得有点不舒服，你们扶我上床吧。你们放心，不管我当游侠骑士还是当牧羊人，我都会照顾你们，到时你们就知道了。”

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外甥女和女管家无疑都是好脾气，她们扶他上了床，给他吃的，精心地照料他睡下。

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The vanquished and afflicted Don Quixote went along very downcast in one respect and very happy in another. His sadness arose from his defeat, and his satisfaction from the thought of the virtue that lay in Sancho, as had been proved by the resurrection of Altisidora; though it was with difficulty he could persuade himself that the love-smitten damsel had been really dead. Sancho went along anything but cheerful, for it grieved him that Altisidora had not kept her promise of giving him the smocks; and turning this over in his mind he said to his master, “Surely, senor, I’m the most unlucky doctor in the world; there’s many a physician that, after killing the sick man he had to cure, requires to be paid for his work, though it is only signing a bit of a list of medicines, that the apothecary and not he makes up, and, there, his labour is over; but with me though to cure somebody else costs me drops of blood, smacks, pinches, pinproddings, and whippings, nobody gives me a farthing. Well, I swear by all that’s good if they put another patient into my hands, they’ll have to grease them for me before I cure him; for, as they say, ‘it’s by his singing the abbot gets his dinner,’ and I’m not going to believe that heaven has bestowed upon me the virtue I have, that I should be dealing it out to others all for nothing.”

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“Thou art right, Sancho my friend,” said Don Quixote, “and Altisidora has behaved very badly in not giving thee the smocks she promised; and although that virtue of thine is gratis data — as it has cost thee no study whatever, any more than such study as thy personal sufferings may be — I can say for myself that if thou wouldst have payment for the lashes on account of the disenchant of Dulcinea, I would have given it to thee freely ere this. I am not sure, however, whether payment will comport with the cure, and I would not have the reward interfere with the medicine. I think there will be nothing lost by trying it; consider how much thou wouldst have, Sancho, and whip thyself at once, and pay thyself down with thine own hand, as thou hast money of mine.”

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At this proposal Sancho opened his eyes and his ears a palm’s breadth wide, and in his heart very readily acquiesced in whipping himself, and said he to his master, “Very well then, senor, I’ll hold myself in readiness to gratify your worship’s wishes if I’m to profit by it; for the love of my wife and children forces me to seem grasping. Let your worship say how much you will pay me for each lash I give myself.”

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“If Sancho,” replied Don Quixote, “I were to requite thee as the importance and nature of the cure deserves, the treasures of Venice, the mines of Potosi, would be insufficient to pay thee. See what thou hast of mine, and put a price on each lash.”

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“Of them,” said Sancho, “there are three thousand three hundred and odd; of these I have given myself five, the rest remain; let the five go for the odd ones, and let us take the three thousand three hundred, which at a quarter real apiece (for I will not take less though the whole world should bid me) make three thousand three hundred quarter reals; the three thousand are one thousand five hundred half reals, which make seven hundred and fifty reals; and the three hundred make a hundred and fifty half reals, which come to seventy-five reals, which added to the seven hundred and fifty make eight hundred and twenty-five reals in all. These I will stop out of what I have belonging to your worship, and I’ll return home rich and content, though well whipped, for ‘there’s no taking trout’ — but I say no more.”

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“O blessed Sancho! O dear Sancho!” said Don Quixote; “how we shall be bound to serve thee, Dulcinea and I, all the days of our lives that heaven may grant us! If she returns to her lost shape (and it cannot be but that she will) her misfortune will have been good fortune, and my defeat a most happy triumph. But look here, Sancho; when wilt thou begin the scourging? For if thou wilt make short work of it, I will give thee a hundred reals over and above.”

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“When?” said Sancho; “this night without fail. Let your worship order it so that we pass it out of doors and in the open air, and I’ll scarify myself.”

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Night, longed for by Don Quixote with the greatest anxiety in the world, came at last, though it seemed to him that the wheels of Apollo’s car had broken down, and that the day was drawing itself out longer than usual, just as is the case with lovers, who never make the reckoning of their desires agree with time. They made their way at length in among some pleasant trees that stood a little distance from the road, and there vacating Rocinante’s saddle and Dapple’s pack-saddle, they stretched themselves on the green grass and made their supper off Sancho’s stores, and he making a powerful and flexible whip out of Dapple’s halter and headstall retreated about twenty paces from his master among some beech trees. Don Quixote seeing him march off with such resolution and spirit, said to him, “Take care, my friend, not to cut thyself to pieces; allow the lashes to wait for one another, and do not be in so great a hurry as to run thyself out of breath midway; I mean, do not lay on so strenuously as to make thy life fail thee before thou hast reached the desired number; and that thou mayest not lose by a card too much or too little, I will station myself apart and count on my rosary here the lashes thou givest thyself. May heaven help thee as thy good intention deserves.”

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“‘Pledges don’t distress a good payer,’” said Sancho; “I mean to lay on in such a way as without killing myself to hurt myself, for in that, no doubt, lies the essence of this miracle.”

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He then stripped himself from the waist upwards, and snatching up the rope he began to lay on and Don Quixote to count the lashes. He might have given himself six or eight when he began to think the joke no trifle, and its price very low; and holding his hand for a moment, he told his master that he cried off on the score of a blind bargain, for each of those lashes ought to be paid for at the rate of half a real instead of a quarter.

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“Go on, Sancho my friend, and be not disheartened,” said Don Quixote; “for I double the stakes as to price.”

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“In that case,” said Sancho, “in God’s hand be it, and let it rain lashes.” But the rogue no longer laid them on his shoulders, but laid on to the trees, with such groans every now and then, that one would have thought at each of them his soul was being plucked up by the roots. Don Quixote, touched to the heart, and fearing he might make an end of himself, and that through Sancho’s imprudence he might miss his own object, said to him, “As thou livest, my friend, let the matter rest where it is, for the remedy seems to me a very rough one, and it will he well to have patience; ‘Zamora was not won in an hour.’ If I have not reckoned wrong thou hast given thyself over a thousand lashes; that is enough for the present; ‘for the ass,’ to put it in homely phrase, ‘bears the load, but not the overload.’”

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“No, no, senor,” replied Sancho; “it shall never be said of me, ‘The money paid, the arms broken;’ go back a little further, your worship, and let me give myself at any rate a thousand lashes more; for in a couple of bouts like this we shall have finished off the lot, and there will be even cloth to spare.”

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“As thou art in such a willing mood,” said Don Quixote, “may heaven aid thee; lay on and I’ll retire.”

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Sancho returned to his task with so much resolution that he soon had the bark stripped off several trees, such was the severity with which he whipped himself; and one time, raising his voice, and giving a beech a tremendous lash, he cried out, “Here dies Samson, and all with him!”

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At the sound of his piteous cry and of the stroke of the cruel lash, Don Quixote ran to him at once, and seizing the twisted halter that served him for a courbash, said to him, “Heaven forbid, Sancho my friend, that to please me thou shouldst lose thy life, which is needed for the support of thy wife and children; let Dulcinea wait for a better opportunity, and I will content myself with a hope soon to be realised, and have patience until thou hast gained fresh strength so as to finish off this business to the satisfaction of everybody.”

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“As your worship will have it so, senor,” said Sancho, “so be it; but throw your cloak over my shoulders, for I’m sweating and I don’t want to take cold; it’s a risk that novice disciplinants run.”

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Don Quixote obeyed, and stripping himself covered Sancho, who slept until the sun woke him; they then resumed their journey, which for the time being they brought to an end at a village that lay three leagues farther on. They dismounted at a hostelry which Don Quixote recognised as such and did not take to be a castle with moat, turrets, portcullis, and drawbridge; for ever since he had been vanquished he talked more rationally about everything, as will be shown presently. They quartered him in a room on the ground floor, where in place of leather hangings there were pieces of painted serge such as they commonly use in villages. On one of them was painted by some very poor hand the Rape of Helen, when the bold guest carried her off from Menelaus, and on the other was the story of Dido and AEneas, she on a high tower, as though she were making signals with a half sheet to her fugitive guest who was out at sea flying in a frigate or brigantine. He noticed in the two stories that Helen did not go very reluctantly, for she was laughing slyly and roguishly; but the fair Dido was shown dropping tears the size of walnuts from her eyes. Don Quixote as he looked at them observed, “Those two ladies were very unfortunate not to have been born in this age, and I unfortunate above all men not to have been born in theirs. Had I fallen in with those gentlemen, Troy would not have been burned or Carthage destroyed, for it would have been only for me to slay Paris, and all these misfortunes would have been avoided.”

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“I’ll lay a bet,” said Sancho, “that before long there won’t be a tavern, roadside inn, hostelry, or barber’s shop where the story of our doings won’t be painted up; but I’d like it painted by the hand of a better painter than painted these.”

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“Thou art right, Sancho,” said Don Quixote, “for this painter is like Orbaneja, a painter there was at Ubeda, who when they asked him what he was painting, used to say, ‘Whatever it may turn out; and if he chanced to paint a cock he would write under it, ‘This is a cock,’ for fear they might think it was a fox. The painter or writer, for it’s all the same, who published the history of this new Don Quixote that has come out, must have been one of this sort I think, Sancho, for he painted or wrote ‘whatever it might turn out;’ or perhaps he is like a poet called Mauleon that was about the Court some years ago, who used to answer at haphazard whatever he was asked, and on one asking him what Deum de Deo meant, he replied De donde diere. But, putting this aside, tell me, Sancho, hast thou a mind to have another turn at thyself to-night, and wouldst thou rather have it indoors or in the open air?”

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“Egad, senor,” said Sancho, “for what I’m going to give myself, it comes all the same to me whether it is in a house or in the fields; still I’d like it to be among trees; for I think they are company for me and help me to bear my pain wonderfully.”

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“And yet it must not be, Sancho my friend,” said Don Quixote; “but, to enable thee to recover strength, we must keep it for our own village; for at the latest we shall get there the day after tomorrow.”

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Sancho said he might do as he pleased; but that for his own part he would like to finish off the business quickly before his blood cooled and while he had an appetite, because “in delay there is apt to be danger” very often, and “praying to God and plying the hammer,” and “one take was better than two I’ll give thee’s ,” and “a sparrow in the hand than a vulture on the wing.”

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“For God’s sake, Sancho, no more proverbs!” exclaimed Don Quixote; “it seems to me thou art becoming sicut erat again; speak in a plain, simple, straight-forward way, as I have often told thee, and thou wilt find the good of it.”

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“I don’t know what bad luck it is of mine,” argument to my mind; however, I mean to mend said Sancho, “but I can’t utter a word without a proverb that is not as good as an argument to my mind; however, I mean to mend if I can;” and so for the present the conversation ended.

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