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双语·老屋子 第十六章

所属教程:译林版·老屋子

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2022年06月11日

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Chapter 16

The balcony-door was standing open, because they had forgotten to close it. But the weather was mild and there was hardly any wind. Now and again, a yellow leaf fell somewhere or other from the baluster. It began to grow dusk.

Fru Adelheid sat with her head in her hands and stared out before her.

Cordt's words kept ringing in her ears. She did not think either that Finn was as he used to be. He was restless, could not sit still, talked more than usual:

“Wherever I went, I found the fountain outside,”he said.“It followed me throughout my journey. There was not a rushing noise so strong but the fountain sounded through it nor a night so still but it came rippling and sang me home again to the old room.…I wonder, did one of the owners of this house set it up?”he asked.

“I don't think so.”

“Yes,”said Finn.“That must be it. I am sure of it. Perhaps it was the one who built the house. You see, it forms part and parcel of the old room…it sums it all up. If there was nothing else but the fountain, it would all be here just the same. I must ask father.”

She shivered with cold and Finn shut the door:

“We are chilly people,”he said.“Both of us. We are not like father. He laughed at me yesterday when I came down to his roomto say good-morning and wanted to shut the window.‘Don't, Finn,’ he said.‘The autumn air is bracing and healthy, it makes one young again…sit in the draught and don't be afraid, old man that you are!’”

“Yes, father is strong.”

Finn looked at her stealthily.

He had soon understood that his parents had drifted apart while he was abroad; and he suffered in consequence. He was as kind and affectionate to his mother as ever; but his thoughts were always harking back to Cordt, whatever they might be talking of:

“Father is so sad,”he said.

“I haven't noticed it.”

She colored after saying this. But Finn was not looking at her, scarcely heard her reply:

“It was strange, mother…out there, on my journey, ever so many times I had a feeling that I came upon father. Wherever I went, I would suddenly hear his voice…then he would be close to me, I walked with him, regulated my step by his and talked to him.”

He laid his head back in his chair and closed his eyes:

“Often it was as if he had been where I came and prepared everything for me, so that I saw him in every corner. Sometimes I felt that I must put off my departure until he came.”

“And did he come?”

“Always. Wasn't that strange?”

“Yes.”

Fru Adelheid thought the sound of his voice was different from ordinary. He did not look at her, as he was used to do…his thoughts were not with her.

“Where were you and father to-day?”she asked.

“We went out into the woods…a long way out. Father was silent, but not so bored as at home. It was so lovely out there…and so strange. One could hardly see a thing…for the leaves falling.”

“Yes,”said Fru Adelheid.

Then she bent over him to look into his face, which had grown thinner and paler during the time that he was away:

“Finn,”she said,“was I not with you…out there…when you were travelling?”

Finn smiled and nodded his head:

“You came in your letters,”he said.“That father never did. But you were mostly here at home, where I was longing to be.”

She thought it was strange that he did not take her hand when he said that.

And, suddenly, she became conscious that she was sitting in terror lest he should slip away from her.

What had she to hold him with, if anything seized him that was stronger than their quiet life in these hours…what had she, if he went…?

It seemed to her as though Cordt stood in the room and beckoned him out into the yellow woods, where the air was so bracing and good. And Finn leapt up with a joyful cry…they went away…and never looked back.…

She felt that Cordt was stronger than she and hated him for it. She sought for a weapon to defend herself. She wished that Finn, who loved her, would lie down before her, as he so often used to do, with his cheek against her hand. And she knew that he was not thinking of it.

She felt so wretched and so lonely that she grew frightened and called upon her old longing for the red happiness…if only it would come and take her, so that she might have something to set against him who had everything.…

“Sing to me, mother,”said Finn.

“Yes,”she said.

She crossed the room with a stronger step than usual. Her cheek was red and her eyes glowed. She took hold of the instrument with frm hands when she opened it. Finn noticed this and looked at her in surprise; but it was not light enough for him to make out her face.

Lovs't thou the peasant in his cosy cottage-nook ?

Thou shalt share bed and board with him, eating and sleeping;

Thou shalt tranquilly brew and merrily cook;

Dusty wheel, rusty needle thy care shall not brook;

Thou shalt bless sun and rain in God's keeping.

But she that loves none shall go weeping!

Lovs't thou the poet with harp all of gold?

Thou shalt list to his song o'er the loud strings sweeping;

Thou shalt meet him, where flowrets peep from the wold;

By thy smiles shall his going and coming be told,

His mind in thy joyfulness steeping.

But she that loves none shall go weeping!

Lovs't thou the lordling, who hunts in the grove?

Thou shalt sue to thy mother and fly from her keeping;

Thou shalt give him thy lips and give him thy love;

Thou shalt take, as he flings horse or hound from above,

Blows, fame and food flung to thee creeping.

But she that loves none shall go weeping!

Fru Adelheid remained sitting with bowed head.

The song had broken her pride. She trembled over all her body and great tears fell upon her hands. She had conjured up spirits which she could not lay; she felt more powerless and small than she had ever felt before.

She began to think of Finn and looked round in alarm. But he could not see her and she wept silently. She laid her forehead against the spinet…then her hand fell upon the keyboard and she started and rose from her seat.

“That was a strange song,”said Finn.

It was so still in the room that she could not bear it.

“I have not sung it for many years,”she said.“In the old days, I used to sing it often.”

“What was father like when you met him?”asked Finn.

She stood with her back to him and turned the pages of the music with trembling hands.

“Was he as handsome as now?”

“Yes…no.…I don't know if he was handsome.”

Finn listened.

“He was…he was charming.”

“That he was…that he was,”he said and clapped his hands like a child who is delighted with a story.“And then he was so masterful…was he not?…So that one was bound to follow him?”

“Yes,”said Fru Adelheid.

“Father was a king,”said Finn.

Her heart throbbed, she listened with all her senses. She felt that Finn was somewhere close to her and accomplishing something that would destroy her. And she could not turn round, could not go to him and beg him to desist.

“I could wish I had a brother,”said Finn.

“Do you feel lonely?”

“No…no, it is not that. But then he should have the kingdom.”

第十六章

阳台门大敞着,他们之前忘记了关门。但天气温和,几乎没有什么风。不时地,会有一片黄叶飘落在栏杆附近。天色渐暗。

阿德尔海德手托着头望向外面。

科特的话一直在她耳边回响。她觉得芬和以前不一样了。他变得焦躁不安,无法静静地坐着,甚至絮絮叨叨。

“不论我去哪里,我都能感觉到外面的喷泉,”芬说,“它每时每刻都跟着我。没什么比喷泉的潺潺水声更响亮了,它让夜晚显得如此静谧,那潺潺水声在我耳边歌唱乡愁,又陪伴我回到了老屋子……我在想,是不是哪一位房子的主人建造了这个喷泉?”

“我不这么想。”

“是的,”芬说,“一定是这样的。我非常确定。可能是房子的建造者。你瞧,它是老屋子的组成部分,它是老屋子的象征。如果这里只剩下喷泉,其他一切也会依旧保持一样。我必须去问问父亲。”

阿德尔海德打了个寒战,芬关上了门。

“我们都不喜寒冷。我们俩都是。我们不像父亲那样。昨晚我去他卧室说晚安的时候我想关上窗户,他却嘲笑了我。‘不要,芬,秋天的空气凛冽健康,让人变得年轻,坐在风口那儿,别担心,你是大人了!’父亲这么说。”芬说。

“是的,你父亲很强壮。”

芬偷偷地看了一眼阿德尔海德。

他立刻明白,在他出国期间,他的父母已经渐渐疏远,而他却是这个结果的承受者。他如同以往那般挚爱他的母亲,但不论他们在讨论什么,他总是会想到科特。

“父亲很伤心。”芬说。

“我没有注意到这一点。”

阿德尔海德说完这句后变了脸色。但芬此刻没有看着她,几乎没有听到她的回答。

“很奇怪,母亲,在外面,在我的旅途中,很多次我有一种感觉:我会遇到父亲。不论我去哪里,我会突然听到他的声音,然后,他会离我很近。我会跟他一起散步,让自己和他步调一致,并同他讲话。”

芬把头靠回椅子里,闭上眼睛,“就好像他去过我在的地方,为我准备好了一切,以至于处处都有他的身影。有时,我甚至觉得为了等他的到来,我必须推迟我起程的时间。”

“那他来了吗?”

“他总会出现。这难道不奇怪吗?”

“是的。”

阿德尔海德想,芬的声音不同于以往了。虽然芬如往常那样讲话时并不看阿德尔海德,但他的思绪并没有跟阿德尔海德在一起。

“你和父亲今天去了哪里?”她问。

“我们去了小树林,走了很长一段距离。父亲不怎么说话,但是不如在家里那般无聊。外面风景可真不错,但又很陌生。几乎什么都看不到了,只能看到叶子不停地落。”

“是的。”阿德尔海德说。

然后,阿德尔海德低头看着芬的脸,比起出国前,芬瘦了许多,也苍白了许多。

“芬,”阿德尔海德说,“当你……当你在外面旅行的时候,我没有和你在一起吗?”

芬笑了,点点头,说:

“你存在于你的信里。父亲从来不写信。但大部分时候,你待在家里,而这是我最想要去的地方。”

芬说这些时并没有握着她的手,这让她感到有些不适。

猛然间,她意识到,她沉浸在芬从她身边离开的恐惧中。

如果芬被超乎他们平静生活的事物吸引,她要对芬说些什么?如果他离她而去,她还剩下什么?

阿德尔海德觉得科特似乎就站在这屋子里,召唤芬去外面的黄树林里转悠,那里空气凛冽清新。芬欢快地跳跃,他们一起离开,头也不回。

阿德尔海德觉得科特比她要强大,这让她对科特心存恨意。她在寻找一件能保护自己的武器。她多么期望那么爱她的芬现在能放松地躺在她面前,就如同他以往那样,脸放在她的手心里。但她知道,此刻芬不会那么做。

阿德尔海德觉得极其委屈、孤独,她变得害怕起来,对赤红幸福的旧日渴望又燃烧起来。要是那快乐能够带走她就好了,这样她就有可能和拥有一切的科特保持对立。

“母亲,给我唱首歌吧。”芬说。

“好。”阿德尔海德回答道。

她穿过屋子,脚步声大于平常。阿德尔海德脸色红润,眼睛散发着光芒。她双手坚定地放在钢琴上。芬注意到了这一点,颇为讶异。但光线太暗,他并没有看到阿德尔海德脸上的表情。

你爱上在那舒适茅舍角落里的农民?

你和他一起生活,食宿共享;

你平静地酿酒,快乐地做饭;

生锈的轮子、生锈的针在你的照料下光可鉴人;

你感恩上帝赐予的阳光雨露。

但不爱任何人的她会悲伤哭泣!

你爱上拥有金制竖琴的诗人?

你倾慕于他在弦丝上弹奏的歌曲;

你在花簇满地的荒原和他相遇;

你的微笑是他来去的指令,

他的思绪沉浸于你的快乐。

但不爱任何人的她会悲伤哭泣!

你爱上在果园里打猎的小公子?

你向你母亲提出请求离开她的监护;

你献给他你的初吻你的爱;

当他高高在上驱使骏马和猎犬的时候,

你将在地上匍匐,承受他抛来的荣耀与食物,

但不爱任何人的她会悲伤哭泣!

阿德尔海德坐在那里没有动,低着头。

这歌曲击碎了她的骄傲。她浑身颤抖,大颗的泪珠滴到手上。她努力振作自己,但她感到前所未有的无力渺小。

阿德尔海德想到了芬,惊慌地看了看周围。但芬看不到她,她默默地流着泪。阿德尔海德头抵着钢琴,然后她的手坠落在了键盘上,她被琴声吓了一跳,从座位上站了起来。

“真是首奇怪的歌。”芬说。

屋子里如此闷,阿德尔海德几乎无法忍受。

“我好多年都没有唱这首歌了,以前,我经常唱它。”

“当你遇见父亲的时候,他是什么样子?”芬问道。

阿德尔海德背朝芬站着,颤抖的手不断翻阅着乐谱。

“他像现在这样帅气吗?”

“是的,不,我不知道他帅不帅。”

芬静静听着。

“他……他很有魅力。”

“他的确是那样,的确是,”芬像孩子听到好故事那样开心地拍着手,“他也很有主人派头,不是吗?所以所有人都注定要追随他?”

“是的。”阿德尔海德说。

“父亲是一个国王。”

阿德尔海德的心脏抽搐着,她全神贯注地听着。她感到芬站在离自己很近的地方,并且做了一件足以毁灭她的事情。她无法转身,无法靠近他,恳求他停下来。

“我希望我有个弟弟。”芬说。

“你觉得孤单吗?”

“不,不是那样。如果有个弟弟,那他应该继承这个王国。”

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