狄更斯雙語小說:《董貝父子》第49章Part1

It was long before Florence awoke. The day was in its prime, the day was in its wane, and still, uneasy in mind and body, she slept on; unconscious of her strange bed, of the noise and turmoil in the street, and of the light that shone outside the shaded window. Perfect unconsciousness of what had happened in the home that existed no more, even the deep slumber of exhaustion could not produce. Some undefined and mournful recollection of it, dozing uneasily but never sleeping, pervaded all her rest. A dull sorrow, like a half-lulled sense of pain, was always present to her; and her pale cheek was oftener wet with tears than the honest Captain, softly putting in his head from time to time at the half-closed door, could have desired to see it.
The sun was getting low in the west, and, glancing out of a red mist, pierced with its rays opposite loopholes and pieces of fretwork in the spires of city churches, as if with golden arrows that struck through and through them - and far away athwart the river and its flat banks, it was gleaming like a path of fire - and out at sea it was irradiating sails of ships - and, looked towards, from quiet churchyards, upon hill-tops in the country, it was steeping distant prospects in a flush and glow that seemed to mingle earth and sky together in one glorious suffusion - when Florence, opening her heavy eyes, lay at first, looking without interest or recognition at the unfamiliar walls around her, and listening in the same regardless manner to the noises in the street. But presently she started up upon her couch, gazed round with a surprised and vacant look, and recollected all.
'My pretty,' said the Captain, knocking at the door, 'what cheer?'
'Dear friend,' cried Florence, hurrying to him, 'is it you?'
The Captain felt so much pride in the name, and was so pleased by the gleam of pleasure in her face, when she saw him, that he kissed his hook, by way of reply, in speechless gratification.
'What cheer, bright di'mond?' said the Captain.
'I have surely slept very long,' returned Florence. 'When did I come here? Yesterday?'
'This here blessed day, my lady lass,' replied the Captain.
'Has there been no night? Is it still day?' asked Florence.
'Getting on for evening now, my pretty,' said the Captain, drawing back the curtain of the window. 'See!'
Florence, with her hand upon the Captain's arm, so sorrowful and timid, and the Captain with his rough face and burly figure, so quietly protective of her, stood in the rosy light of the bright evening sky, without saying a word. However strange the form of speech into which he might have fashioned the feeling, if he had had to give it utterance, the Captain felt, as sensibly as the most eloquent of men could have done, that there was something in the tranquil time and in its softened beauty that would make the wounded heart of Florence overflow; and that it was better that such tears should have their way. So not a word spake Captain Cuttle. But when he felt his arm clasped closer, and when he felt the lonely head come nearer to it, and lay itself against his homely coarse blue sleeve, he pressed it gently with his rugged hand, and understood it, and was understood.
'Better now, my pretty!' said the Captain. 'Cheerily, cheerily, I'll go down below, and get some dinner ready. Will you come down of your own self, arterwards, pretty, or shall Ed'ard Cuttle come and fetch you?'
As Florence assured him that she was quite able to walk downstairs, the Captain, though evidently doubtful of his own hospitality in permitting it, left her to do so, and immediately set about roasting a fowl at the fire in the little parlour. To achieve his cookery with the greater skill, he pulled off his coat, tucked up his wristbands, and put on his glazed hat, without which assistant he never applied himself to any nice or difficult undertaking.
After cooling her aching head and burning face in the fresh water which the Captain's care had provided for her while she slept, Florence went to the little mirror to bind up her disordered hair. Then she knew - in a moment, for she shunned it instantly, that on her breast there was the darkening mark of an angry hand.
Her tears burst forth afresh at the sight; she was ashamed and afraid of it; but it moved her to no anger against him. Homeless and fatherless, she forgave him everything; hardly thought that she had need to forgive him, or that she did; but she fled from the idea of him as she had fled from the reality, and he was utterly gone and lost. There was no such Being in the world.
What to do, or where to live, Florence - poor, inexperienced girl! - could not yet consider. She had indistinct dreams of finding, a long way off, some little sisters to instruct, who would be gentle with her, and to whom, under some feigned name, she might attach herself, and who would grow up in their happy home, and marry, and be good to their old governess, and perhaps entrust her, in time, with the education of their own daughters. And she thought how strange and sorrowful it would be, thus to become a grey-haired woman, carrying her secret to the grave, when Florence Dombey was forgotten. But it was all dim and clouded to her now. She only knew that she had no Father upon earth, and she said so, many times, with her suppliant head hidden from all, but her Father who was in Heaven.
Her little stock of money amounted to but a few guineas. With a part of this, it would be necessary to buy some clothes, for she had none but those she wore. She was too desolate to think how soon her money would be gone - too much a child in worldly matters to be greatly troubled on that score yet, even if her other trouble had been less. She tried to calm her thoughts and stay her tears; to quiet the hurry in her throbbing head, and bring herself to believe that what had happened were but the events of a few hours ago, instead of weeks or months, as they appeared; and went down to her kind protector.
The Captain had spread the cloth with great care, and was making some egg-sauce in a little saucepan: basting the fowl from time to time during the process with a strong interest, as it turned and browned on a string before the fire. Having propped Florence up with cushions on the sofa, which was already wheeled into a warm corner for her greater comfort, the Captain pursued his cooking with extraordinary skill, making hot gravy in a second little saucepan, boiling a handful of potatoes in a third, never forgetting the egg-sauce in the first, and making an impartial round of basting and stirring with the most useful of spoons every minute. Besides these cares, the Captain had to keep his eye on a diminutive frying-pan, in which some sausages were hissing and bubbling in a most musical manner; and there was never such a radiant cook as the Captain looked, in the height and heat of these functions: it being impossible to say whether his face or his glazed hat shone the brighter.
The dinner being at length quite ready, Captain Cuttle dished and served it up, with no less dexterity than he had cooked it. He then dressed for dinner, by taking off his glazed hat and putting on his coat. That done, he wheeled the table close against Florence on the sofa, said grace, unscrewed his hook, screwed his fork into its place, and did the honours of the table
'My lady lass,' said the Captain, 'cheer up, and try to eat a deal. Stand by, my deary! Liver wing it is. Sarse it is. Sassage it is. And potato!' all which the Captain ranged symmetrically on a plate, and pouring hot gravy on the whole with the useful spoon, set before his cherished guest.
'The whole row o' dead lights is up, for'ard, lady lass,' observed the Captain, encouragingly, 'and everythink is made snug. Try and pick a bit, my pretty. If Wal'r was here - '

弗洛倫斯長久沒有醒來。白天到了它精力最充沛的時候，白天又到了它衰微不振的時候，但是身心交瘁的她卻仍繼續睡着，對她的陌生的牀毫無知覺，對街上的喧囂與熱鬧毫無知覺，對照射到被窗簾遮蔽着的窗子外面的光線也毫無知覺。不過即使是由於極度的疲勞而帶來的深沉的睡眠，也不能使她完全忘卻那個已不再存在的家中所發生的事情。她在不舒服地打盹，而並不是在真正地睡眠；這時候，某些模糊的、憂傷的回憶打擾了她的休息。一種鬱鬱不樂的悲哀像部分減輕的痛的感覺一樣，一刻也沒有離開她。她的蒼白的臉頰時常被眼淚流溼；誠實的船長不時地把頭悄悄地探進半掩的門中，真不希望看到它被流溼得這麼多次。
太陽正在西邊沉落下去；當它從紅色的霧靄中向外探望時，它的光線穿透了對面城市教堂尖塔上的窺孔和浮雕裝飾，彷彿用金色的箭射穿了它們一樣；在遠處，它橫越過河流和平坦的河岸，像一條火的小徑一樣發着微光；在海洋上，它照耀着船帆；如果從坐落在城外山崗頂上的平靜的教堂墓地望它的話，那麼它正用耀眼的光輝籠罩着遠方的景色，似乎在一片瀰漫的壯麗的紅光中把地和天連接起來；就在這個時候，弗洛倫斯睜開沉甸甸的眼皮，起初躺在那裏漠不關心地、毫無覺察地看着四周不熟悉的牆壁，並用同樣冷淡的態度聽着街上的喧鬧的。但是不一會兒，她從躺椅中跳了起來，用驚奇的、發呆的眼光注視着周圍，並回憶起了所有的事情。
“我的寶貝，”船長敲着門，說道，”現在怎麼樣？”
“親愛的朋友，”弗洛倫斯急忙向他跑過去，喊道，”是您嗎？”
船長聽到這稱呼感到十分自豪；他看到她望着他時臉上露出的愉快的笑容，感到十分高興，因此吻了吻他的鉤子，作爲回答，並默默地表示他心中的喜悅。
“現在怎麼樣，光輝的鑽石？”船長問道。
“我一定睡得很長久了，”弗洛倫斯回答道。”我什麼時候到這裏來的？是昨天嗎？”
“今天，就在今天這個可喜的日子，我的小姑娘夫人，”船長回答道。
“還沒有到夜裏嗎？仍舊是白天嗎？”弗洛倫斯問道。
“快到晚上了，我的寶貝，”船長拉開窗簾，說道，”瞧！”
弗洛倫斯手擱在船長的胳膊上，十分悲傷、膽怯；臉孔粗糙、身材魁偉的船長十分平靜地保護着她，因此她站在燦爛的傍晚天空的玫瑰色光線中，一句話也沒有說。如果船長能用語言來表達他的感情的話，那麼他也許會採用很奇怪的表達方式，可是他像最能言善辯的人一樣清楚地懂得，在這寧靜的時刻中和在它的柔和的美中有某種東西能對弗洛倫斯的受創傷的心產生良好的效果；如果讓這些眼淚自由地流淌，那將會是更好的。因此，卡特爾船長一句話也沒有說。但是當他覺得她更緊地握着他的胳膊，當他覺得這孤苦伶仃的女孩子的頭更靠近他，並緊貼在他的樸素的、粗劣的藍衣袖上的時候，他就用粗糙的手溫柔地按着它，並理解它；他也被弗洛倫斯所理解。
“現在好些了，我的寶貝！”船長說道。”高高興興地，高高興興地！我要到樓下去準備做點晚飯，寶貝；您等一會兒自己下樓呢，還是由愛德華?卡特爾來送您下去？”
弗洛倫斯請他相信，她能夠自己走下樓去，因此船長雖然明顯地懷疑，他殷勤招待客人的規矩是否允許這樣做，但還是聽憑她這樣去做了；然後他立即在小客廳的爐火上烤了一隻雞。爲了用更精巧的技術來進行烹調，他脫去上衣，捲起袖口，戴上上了光的帽子--沒有帽子這個助手，他從來不從事任何不容馬虎或困難費事的工作的。
弗洛倫斯用清水（這是船長在她睡覺時，出於關心，爲她準備的）使她發痛的頭和發燙的臉涼爽涼爽，然後她走到小鏡子前，把她蓬亂的頭髮包紮好。這時候她看到，在她的胸前有一個發黑的斑痕，那是那隻憤怒的手留下來的。她只是看了一剎那的工夫，因爲她立刻把眼睛閃開了。
一看到這個傷痕，她的眼淚就重新流出來了；她覺得它是一種恥辱，並害怕見到它；但是它並沒有驅使她對他生氣。她沒有家，沒有父親，但卻仍然原諒了他的一切，幾乎沒有想到，她必須原諒他或者她已經原諒了他，而是她避開不去想他，就像她已經從現實世界中逃走一樣；他已完全離開了，不存在了。在世界上已沒有這樣的人了。
今後做什麼，今後到哪裏去生活，弗洛倫斯--這個可憐的、沒有經驗的女孩子！--現在還不能考慮這些。她曾經模糊地夢想到遙遠的什麼地方去找到幾個小妹妹，她去教她們；她們將親切地對待她；她將採用一個化名，並熱誠地愛她們；她們將在幸福的家庭中長大，結婚，善良地對待她們的老家庭女教師，也許到時候還會委託她去教育她們的女兒們。她曾想過，她這樣變成一位頭髮斑白的女人，把她的祕密一直帶進墳墓，而弗洛倫斯?董貝這個名字則被人們遺忘，這將是多麼奇怪與悲傷的事啊！可是這一切現在對她來說都是十分模糊不清。她只知道，她在這塵世中沒有父親；當只剩下她單獨一個人的時候，她向天國中的父親祈禱，並這樣說了許多次。
她積蓄起來的錢總共不過幾基尼。從這當中需要拿出一部分去買些衣服，因爲她除了身上穿着的以外，沒有別的衣服了。她太悲傷了，顧不得去想她的錢會多麼快地被用掉--因爲她還是個對世俗事務很沒有經驗的孩子，即使她沒有別的憂愁，她現在也還不會在這方面過份憂愁的。她努力使自己的思想平靜下來，使自己的眼淚止住不流，使自己的情緒安定下來，並使自己相信，事情僅僅是在幾小時以前，而不是像她覺得的那樣，是在幾星期或幾個月以前發生的；然後她走下樓，到她仁厚的保護人那裏去。
船長已經很細心地鋪好了桌布，這時正在一隻有柄的平底鍋裏做雞蛋調味汁，在這同時，他懷着濃厚的興趣，不時給雞澆上油，雞在繩子上轉動着，被火烤成棕色。船長把弗洛倫斯用坐墊在沙發上支撐着（沙發已推到一個溫暖的角落裏，使她更爲舒適），然後繼續以非凡的技巧進行烹調：他在第二隻平底鍋中做熱肉汁，在第三隻平底鍋中煮幾個土豆，但決沒有忘記第一隻平底鍋裏的雞蛋調味汁，在這同時又時刻不停地用匙子給雞的各個部分均勻地澆上油，並把雞在火上翻過來翻過去。除了照料這些事情外，船長還得注意看着一隻小煎鍋，鍋裏的一些香腸在冒着熱氣，並吱啦吱啦地發出十分悅耳的，世界上從來沒有一位廚師在緊張操作時像船長這樣容光煥發的，因此實在難以判斷，究竟是他的臉還是他那頂上了光的帽子更亮一些。
晚飯終於做好了，卡特爾船長把它們盛在盤子裏，端到桌子上，他那靈巧的動作絲毫也不比烹調時遜色。這時候，他摘掉那頂上了光的帽子，穿上外衣，作爲他吃晚餐的禮服。然後他把有輪子的桌子推到坐在沙發上的弗洛倫斯跟前，做了飯前的禱告，又把那隻當手的鉤子的螺釘擰鬆，取下鉤子，換上一把餐叉，接着又把螺釘擰緊，然後他充當起餐桌的主人來。
“我的小姑娘夫人，”船長說道，”高興起來，設法多吃一些。做好準備，我的寶貝！這是小翅膀。這是調味汁。這是香腸。還有土豆！”船長把所有這些勻稱地排列在一隻盤子裏，用那只有用的匙子在上面澆上熱肉計，然後把盤子端到他所喜愛的客人面前。
“所有的舷窗蓋都關上了，小姑娘夫人，”船長用鼓舞的口吻說道，”一切事情都安排妥當了。吃一點吧，我的寶貝。如果沃爾在這裏的話--”