那些无法抗拒的名篇10:Ulysses 尤利西斯(节选)

10 尤利西斯

Stately, plump Buck Mullingan came from the stainhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing gown, ungirdled, was sustained gently-behind him by the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:

体态丰满而有风度的勃克·穆利根在楼梯口出现。他手里托着一钵肥皂沫，上面交叉放了一面镜子和一把剃胡刀。他没系腰带，淡黄色浴衣被习习晨风吹得稍微向后蓬着。他把那只钵高高举起，吟诵道:

Introibo ad altare Dei.

我要走上主的祭台。

Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called up coarsely:

他停下脚步，朝那昏暗的螺旋状楼梯下边瞥了一眼，粗声粗气地喊道:

"Come up, Kinch. Come up, you fearful Jesuit.”

“上来，金赤。上来，你这敬畏天主的耶稣会士。”

Solemnly he came forward and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding country and the awaking mountains. Then，catching sight of Stephen Dedalus, he bent towards him and made rapid crosses in the air, gurgling in his throat and shaking his head. Stephen Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his arms on the top of the staircase and looked coldly at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him, equine in its length, and at the light untonsured hair, grained and hued like pale oak.

他庄严地向前走去，登上圆形的炮座。他朝四下里望望，肃穆地对这座塔和周围的田野以及逐渐苏醒着的群山祝福了三遍。他一瞧见斯蒂芬·迪达勒斯就朝他弯下身去，在空中迅速地画了好几个十字，喉咙里还发出咯咯声，摇着头。斯蒂芬·迪达勒斯气恼而昏昏欲睡，双臂倚在楼梯栏杆上，冷冰冰地瞅着一边摇头一边发出咯咯声向他祝福的那张马脸，以及那顶并未剃光、色泽和纹理都像是浅色橡木的淡黄色头发。

Buck Mulligan peeped an instant under the mirror and then covered the bowl smartly.

勃克·穆利根朝镜下瞅了一眼，赶快合上钵。

"Back to barracks." he said sternly.

“回到营房去。”他厉声说。

He added in a preacher's tone:

接着又用布道人的腔调说:

"For this, O dearly beloved, is the genuine Christine: body and soul and blood and ouns. Slow music, please. Shut your eyes, gents. One moment. A little trouble about those white corpuscles. Silence, all.”

“啊，亲爱的人们，这是真正的克里斯廷:肉体和灵魂，血和伤痕。请把音乐放慢一点儿。闭上眼睛，先生们。等一下。这些白血球有点儿不消停。请大家肃静。”

He peered sideways up and gave a long low whistle of call, then paused a while in rapt attention, his even white teeth glistening here and there with gold points. Chrysostomos. Two strong shrill whistles answered through the calm.

他朝上方斜睨，悠长地低声吹了下呼唤的口哨，随后停下来，全神贯注地倾听着。他那口洁白齐整的牙齿有些地方闪射着金光。克里索斯托两声尖锐有力的口哨划破寂静回应了他。

"Thanks, old chap," he cried briskly. "That will do nicely. Switch off the current, will you?”

“谢谢啦，老伙计，”他精神抖擞地大声说。“蛮好，请你关上电门，好吗?”

He skipped off the gunrest and looked gravely at his watcher, gathering about his legs the loose folds of his gown. The plump shadowed face and sullen oval户w! recalled a prelate, patron of arts in the middle ages. A pleasant smile broke quietly over his lips.

他从炮座上跳下来，神色庄重地望着那个观看他的人，并将浴衣那宽松的下摆拢在小腿上。他那郁郁寡欢的胖脸和阴沉的椭圆形下颖令人联想到中世纪作为艺术保护者的高僧。他的唇边徐徐地绽出了愉快的笑意。

"The mockery of it." he said gaily. "Your absurd name, an ancient Greek.”

“多可笑。”他快活地说。“你这姓名太荒唐了，一个古希腊人。”

He pointed his finger in friendly jest and went over to the parapet, laughing to himself. Stephen Dedalus stepped up，followed him wearily half way and sat down on the edge of the gunrest, watching him still as he propped his mirror on the parapet, dipped the brush in the bowl and lathered cheeks and neck.

他友善而打趣地指了一下，暗自笑着走到炮座那儿。斯蒂芬·迪达勒斯爬上塔顶，无精打采地跟着他走了几步，就在炮座边上坐了下来，静静地望着他怎样把镜子靠在炮座上，将刷子在钵里浸了浸，往面颊和脖颈上涂起皂沫。

Buck Mulligan's gay voice went on.

勃克·穆利根用愉快的声调继续讲下去。

"My name is absurd too Malachi Mulligan，two dactyls. But it has a Hellenic ring, hasn't it? Tripping and sunny like the buck himself. We must go to Athens. Will you come if I can get the aunt to fork out twenty quid?”

“我的姓名也荒唐，玛拉基·穆利根，两个扬抑抑格。可它带些古希腊味道，对不?轻盈快活得像只公鹿。咱们总得去趟雅典。要是姑妈肯给我们20镑，你要一道去吗?”

He laid the brush aside and, laughing with delight, cried:

他把刷子撂在一边，开心地大声笑着说:

"Will he come? The jejune Jesuit”

“他去吗，那位枯燥乏味的耶稣会士?”

Ceasing, he began to shave with care.

他闭上嘴，仔细地刮起脸来。

"Tell me, Mulligan”Stephen said quietly.

“告诉我，穆利根。”斯蒂芬轻声说。

"Yes, my love?”

“嗯?乖乖。”

"How long is Haines going to stay in this tower?”

“海恩斯还要在这座塔里住多久?”

Buck Mulligan showed a shaven cheek over his right shoulder.

勃克·穆利根从右肩侧过他那半边刮好的脸。

"God, isn't he dreadful?”he said frankly. "A ponderous Saxon. He thinks you’re not a gentleman God，these bloody English. Bursting with money and indigestion. Because he comes from Oxford You know, Dedalus;you have the real Oxford manner. He can't make you out. O，my name for you is the best. Kinch, the knife-blade."

“老天啊，那小子真是讨人嫌!”他坦率地说，“这种笨头笨脑的撒克逊人，他就没把你看作一位有身份的人。天哪，那帮混账的英国人。腰缠万贯，脑满肠肥。因为他是牛津出身呗。喏，迪达勒斯，你才真正有牛津派头呢。他捉摸不透你。哦，我给你起的名字再好不过啦:利刃金赤。”

He shaved warily over his chin.

他小心翼翼地刮着下巴。

"He was raving all night about a black panther," Stephen said. "Where is his guncase?”

“他整夜都在说着关于一只什么黑豹的梦话，”斯蒂芬说，“他的猎枪套在哪儿?”

"A woful lunatic!”Mulligan said. "Were you in a funk?”

“一个可悯可悲的疯子!”穆利根说。“你害怕了吧?”

"I was"，Stephen said with energy and growing fear. "Out here in the dark with a man I don’t know raving and moaning to himself about shooting a black panther. You saved men from drowning. I’m not a hero, however. If he stays on here I am off."

“是啊，”斯蒂芬越来越感到恐怖，热切地说，“黑咕隆咚的在郊外，跟一个满口胡话、哼哼唧唧要射杀一只黑豹的陌生人呆在一块儿。你曾救过快要淹死的人。可我不是英雄。要是他继续呆在这儿，那我就走。”

Buck Mulligan frowned at the lather on his razorblade. He hopped down from his perch and began to search his trouser pockets hastily.

勃克·穆利根朝着剃胡刀上的肥皂沫皱了皱眉，从坐着的地方跳了下来，慌忙地在裤兜里摸索。

"Scutter," he cried thickly.

“糟啦!”他瓮声瓮气地嚷道。

He came over to the gunrest and，thrusting a hand into Stephen’s upper pocket, said:

他来到炮座跟前，把手伸进斯蒂芬的胸兜，说:

“Lend us a loan of your noserag to wipe my razor”

“把你那块鼻涕布借咱使一下，擦擦剃胡刀。”

Stephen suffered him to pull out and hold up on show by its corner a dirty crumpled handkerchief. Buck Mulligan wiped the razorblade neatly. Then, gazing over the handkerchief, he said:

斯蒂芬听任他拽出那条皱巴巴的脏手绢，捏着一角，把它抖落开来。勃克·穆利根干净利索地擦完剃胡刀，望着手绢说: “‘大诗人’的鼻涕布。属于咱们爱尔兰诗人的一种新的艺术色彩，鼻涕。简直可以尝得出它的滋味，对吗?”

"The bard's noserag. A new art colour for our Irish poets: snotgreen. You can almost taste it, can't you?”

他又跨上炮座，眺望着都柏林湾。他那浅橡木色的黄头发微微飘动着。

He mounted to the parapet again and gazed out over Dublin bay, his fair oak-pale hair stirring slightly.

“喏!”他安详地说。“这海不就是阿尔杰所说的吗:一位伟大可爱的母亲!鼻涕的海，使人睾丸紧缩的海。到葡萄紫的大海上去。喂，迪达勒斯，那些希腊人啊。我得教给你。你非用原文来读不可。海!海!她是我们伟大可爱的母亲。过来瞧瞧。”

"God,"he said quietly. "Isn't the sea what Algy calls it: a grey sweet mother? The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea. Epi oinopa ponton. Ah，Dedalus, the Greeks. I must teach you. You must read them in the original. Thalatta! Thalatta! She is our great sweet mother. Come and look.”

斯蒂芬站起来，走到炮座跟前。他倚着炮座，俯瞰水面和正在驶出国王镇港口的邮轮。

Stephen stood up and went over to the parapet. Leaning on it he looked down on the water and on the mailboat clearing the harbour mouth of Kingstown.

“我们强有力的母亲”。勃克·穆利根说。

"Our mighty mother”Buck Mulligan said.

他那双目光锐利的灰色眼睛猛地从海洋移到斯蒂芬的脸上。

He turned abruptly his great searching eyes from the sea to Stephen's face.

“姑妈认为你母亲死在你手里，”他说，“所以她不让我跟你有任何往来”。

"The aunt thinks you killed your mother, he said. That's why she won't let me have anything to do with you.”

“是有人害的她。”斯蒂芬神色阴郁地说。

"Someone killed her厂Stephen said gloomily.

“该死，金赤，当你那位奄奄一息的母亲央求你跪下来的时候，你总应该照办呀，”勃克·穆利根说，“我跟你一样是个冷血动物。可你想想看，你那位快咽气的母亲恳求你跪下来为她祷告。而你拒绝了。你身上有股邪气……”

"You could have knelt down，damn it, Kirsch，when your dying mother asked you厂Buck Mulligan said.“!’m hyperborean as much as you. But to think of your mother begging you with her last breath to kneel down and pray for her. And you refused. There is something sinister in you.”

他忽然打住，又往另一边面颊上轻轻涂起肥皂沫来。一抹宽厚的笑容使他撇起了嘴唇。

He broke off and lathered again lightly his farther cheek. A tolerant smile curled his lips.

“然而却是个可爱的哑剧演员，”他自言自语着。“金赤是所有的哑剧演员当中最可爱的一个。”

"But a lovely mummer厂he murmured to himself. "Kirsch, the loveliest mummer of them all.”

他仔细地刮着脸，默默地，专心致志地。

He shaved evenly and with care, in silence, seriously.

斯蒂芬一只肘支在坑洼不平的花岗石上，手心扶额头，凝视着自己发亮的黑上衣袖子那磨破了的袖口。痛苦——还说不上是爱的痛苦——煎熬着他的心。她去世之后，曾在梦中悄悄地来找过他，她那枯搞的身躯裹在宽松的褐色衣袋里，散发出蜡和黄檀的气味;当她带着微咳一声不响地朝他俯下身来时，依稀能闻到一股淡淡的湿灰气味。隔着槛褛的袖口，他瞥见被身旁那个吃得很好的人称作伟大可爱的母亲的海洋。海湾与天际构成环形，盛着大量的暗绿色液体。母亲弥留之际，床头曾放着一只白瓷钵，里边盛着粘糊糊的绿色胆汁，那是伴着她一阵阵的高声呻吟，撕裂她那腐烂了的肝脏吐出来的。

Stephen, an elbow rested on the jagged granite, leaned his palm against his brow and gazed at the fraying edge of his shiny black coat-sleeve. Pain, that was not yet the pain of love, fretted his heart, Silently, in a dream she had come to him after her death, her wasted body within its loose brown grave-clothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her breath，that had bent upon him, mute, reproachful, a faint odour of wetted ashes. Across the threadbare cuffedge he saw the sea hailed as a great sweet mother by the well-fed voice beside him. The ring of bay and skyline held a dull green mass of liquid. A bowl of white china had stood beside her deathbed holding the green sluggish bile which she had torn up from her rotting liver by fits of loud groaning vomiting.

作者介绍:

詹姆斯·乔伊斯(1882-1941)，生于都柏林信奉天主教的家庭。他的作品有长篇小说《青年艺术家画像》、《尤利西斯》、《芬尼根守夜人》，还有诗集《室内乐集》和剧本《流亡者》等。詹姆斯·乔伊斯是二十世纪最伟大的作家之一，他的作品及“意识流”手法对全世界产生了巨大的影响。

小说以时间为顺序，描述了苦闷仿徨的都柏林小市民、广告推销员利奥波德·布卢姆于1904年6月16日——昼夜之内在都柏林的日常经历。乔伊斯将布卢姆在都柏林街头的一日游荡比作奥德修斯海外十年的漂泊，同时刻画了他不忠诚的妻子摩莉以及斯蒂芬寻找精神上的父亲的心理。