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双语·波兰吹号手 第二章 克拉科夫城

所属教程:译林版·波兰吹号手

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2022年06月04日

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II. KRAKOW

Charnetski, Christian, wife and son, said Pan Andrew to a custodian who wore light armor and carried a halberd.

He gave them a quick glance and motioned for them to pass. Another man in black peered into the cart to see what was inside, and finding nothing, concluded that these were farm folk come up to the city to buy, and accordingly demanded but a few pieces of iron coin as tax. This paid, they took the road which ran from Mikolayska Gate to the Sukiennice, the old Cloth Hall, which stood then, as it does today, in the very center of the city.

Krakow was flooded with a golden sunlight. Joseph, who saw for the first time a large city, gaped in very astonishment as he glanced left and right about him.

Front and rear, their cart formed part of the long straight train of carts coming to the city loaded with products of the farms. Through this line were breaking from time to time splendid horsemen wearing breastplates of steel that shone like precious metal and carrying long swords dangling from the saddles. One of these men who pushed through the crowd just in front of their horses was so splendidly arrayed that the boy took him for a very high noble, or perhaps the king himself, the peace-loving king, Kazimir Jagiello, the fourth of the name of Kazimir, and he exclaimed:

That must be the king, Father. See the shining armor and thejewels upon his saddle. And the sword must be of gold, for it shines like fire. And look—he pointed eagerly—"see the Polish eagle worked in silver upon the saddlecloth. There beyond it is the white knight of Lithuania. Is he not indeed the king?"

No, son, no. That is but one of the guard that waits on the nobles at the royal castle.

All about them rose in the bright sunlight palaces, churches, towers, battlement walls, and Gothic buildings, as yet for the most part unadorned by the rich sculpture that was to come in a few years under the influence of the Italian Renaissance. In the distance rose against the turquoise-blue sky the cathedral on the Wawel Hill, its Romanesque tower showing high above the city. Close at hand were the two towers of the Church of Our Lady Mary, not as they appear today since the hand of the master architect and of the renowned sculptor Wit Stwosz altered them, but rising unbelfried and uncrowned above the cemetery, where white gravestones clustered at the base of the church.

In the very middle of the market, surrounded by smaller wooden buildings, was the great Cloth Hall, used for the sale and exchange of cloth goods, already swarming with merchants who had been traveling all night, and for many nights perhaps, in order to close bargains early on market day before the money of purchasers had been spent elsewhere.

Camped in the square outside the Cloth Hall were a number of Tartars who had come from the distant East to sell fine swords and cloths and jewels plundered from Muscovites, or Bulgarians, or Creeks, or other travelers in the steppes. Facing the east as the rising sun had crept over Wawel Hill, they had chanted their morningprayer of praise to the great Allah. Their singing could have been heard mingling with the clashing of the great bell on the Church of Our Lady Mary and the chanted service of the Armenian merchants who had come in from Trebizond and the lands beyond the Black Sea with carpets and spices and fine rugs.

Here for the moment in this great international capital of East and West was worshiped every god that man knows; it might even be said that God himself was worshiped under many names and in many languages and dialects. Here were Turks, Cossacks, Ruthenians, Germans, Flemings, Czechs, and Slovaks, with their wares to sell, and Hungarians with their wines from the mellow plains of Transylvania.

As for money, there might be found zloty and guilder and groschen, silver in bars, and precious stones, also plenty of token "in kind"—that is to say, certain varieties of merchandise such as amber, dates bound in packages, or even vegetables in containers, each of which had a recognized value over all the trade routes of the Hanseatic League. For the League merchants were represented here as well—prosperous Germans or Dutchmen in long robes with fur collars—and they did business in every language known to man.

While the boy drank in these unusual sights on all sides, there suddenly floated down from above the sweet notes of a trumpet. Looking directly upward he could see the golden bell of a trumpet protruding from one of the tower windows of the Church of Our Lady Mary, and as he looked the full dignity of the church burst upon him, its quiet strength which appealed to the eye being strangely mingled in his senses with the trumpet song which fell upon his ears.

There were two towers rising high above the traffic of the street; rising unequally, he now noticed, for the nearer tower seemed a bit squat beside the farther one. It was from the higher tower that the trumpeter was playing.

The tune was a little morning hymn, the Heynal, brought into Poland, some said, in the earliest days of Christianity by missionaries who came from the south. It was a simple little air, intensely sweet and appealing, but at a certain place the trumpeter broke the tune off abruptly, leaving but the echo of an unfinished strain to float down from above. It was as if someone at that moment had taken the trumpet from his lips.

Joseph turned to his father in astonishment. "Isn't he going to finish the song?"

The father smiled. "It is a long story, my son, and one that I will tell you at a later time."

The trumpet sounded again, from another window, then from the farther side, and finally at the north side, toward the Florian Gate. Four times the trumpeter had sounded the Heynal, ending always with the broken note.

He plays rather poorly, added Pan Charnetski.

Now, though Pan Charnetski was a country gentleman, he was accomplished in many crafts. After having graduated from the University of Krakow, he decided not to remain in one of the professions but rather to live on his father's estate and manage it, as had been the custom for the men in his family. He had retained a love of music, which he had studied in the university, and played well upon brass instruments, the straight trumpet, the curved trumpet, and the trumpet with keys. Therefore when he said that thetrumpeter in the tower had not played well he knew of what he was talking.

The cart was now passing close to the Cloth Hall, and Joseph ceased to question his father any further concerning the song with the broken note because of the strange scenes which claimed his attention.

Here stood a group of merchants in bright gowns. Wealthy they must have been because their long coats were of fine cloth, some lined with fur and trimmed with many silks. Beneath the coats were costumes of tight-fitting cloth. Joseph saw one man with the color of the cloth in the trouser of the right leg different from the color of the cloth of the left trouser, which to the boy had a ludicrous look. But when he noticed that many other men wore the same kind of garment, tight-fitting to leg and thigh, and of different color upon each leg, he ceased to smile and began to wonder. The wonder did not leave off for a while, either, for other curiosities in dress caught his eye. The hats and head coverings were in their way as remarkable as the tight garments. Turbans were worn uniformly, some with pointed peaks, others simply masses of gayly colored cloth heaped up high on the head in twists and folds; grotesque ornaments, too, were worn on the head—one man even had a stuffed or an imitation rooster, with legs and comb and all, perched on the crown of his high hat. The merchants wore curious leather footgear, most of the sandals being of soft leather with long, twisted points. One man had sticks thrust into the leather at the toes, making his sandals appear at least two feet long.

At the stalls around the Cloth Hall were all manner of wares, which the sellers were advertising with loud cries. Here was a graincounter with different colored grains in open sacks. A woman in a blue gown which hung from a yoke at the shoulder, and with a piece of cloth of the same color wound deftly around her head for a hat, was selling a few grains of corn to a traveling musician. He wore a long yellow garment all of a piece, including head covering like a cowl, and falling to the knees, below which the legs and feet were bare. This garment was caught at the waist by a bright yellow belt. He carried under one arm a bagpipe with three protruding tubes, two for music, if it might be called such, and one for his mouth. In one hand he held a pouch of leather into which the woman was slipping grains of corn.

The Charnetskis drove by the stalls and shops of the glove makers, where there were women working and buying, all dressed in bright-colored gowns; past the needle makers in leather aprons, who sprawled over benches; past the sword makers, with their neat forges and rows of shining steel blades; past the tub makers, who were assembling wooden staves into tub bodies; past the smiths in their long black aprons, leading horses into position where they could be shed. Here and there the red signs of the barber and bloodletter, here and there the huge flasks of green and blue denoting the stores of the apothecaries. True Catholics had upon the walls of their shops an ikon or a picture of the Holy Mother of God from the sacred shrine of Chenstohova; almost every merchant had some distinctive figure above the door of his shop to distinguish it from his neighbor's; for example there was a hatter with the sign "Under the White Elephant," and there was a shoemaker who had a stone head of Kazimir the Great for the satisfaction of himself and his customers. The numbering of public buildings was not known in that age, andbuildings were distinguished by some such emblem, which usually stood above the outer gate or door.

Everywhere could be heard the cries of vendors shouting or singing their wares or professions, the flower girls, the knife sharpener, the baker's boy, and the butcher's apprentice.

Co brakuje, co brakuje? they all shouted in a chorus. "What do you lack? What do you lack?"

Occasionally, to Joseph's delight, a monkey could be seen, brought here by traders from the east or south, one playing around a booth, another carried, much bedecked with ribbons, in the arms of some merchant's or perhaps burgomaster's lady.

Once or twice amid the clamor of the market rang the clanking of chains as poor wretches about to be fastened to the church walls by iron collars, or stuck in the pillory, or perhaps even to suffer a worse fate, were marched to the church for a last prayer before the sentence of the law was passed upon them. Life was a precarious thing in many ways in those days, and men and women for very slight offenses were beheaded or banished or thrown into prisons.

Now they passed a procession of pilgrims on the way to some shrine, men and women from the villages dressed in their good clothes with the parish priest marching ahead of them and leading the chant which they were singing. The cross bearer was a young man with stalwart shoulders and bright eyes; he had need of his strength, too, for he had sworn to carry the holy image of Our Lord from his native village to Chenstohova, which was many miles distant. This company had already been on the road about ten days. There were boys and girls, too, in the procession, and some had their minds upon serious things, but others were looking for the first timeupon the glory of medieval Krakow, and would no doubt in their prayers ask forgiveness for too much attention to worldly things.

The cart turned into Grodzka, or Castle, Street, after leaving the market place and went directly toward the Wawel. Near the Wawel Pan Andrew swung the horses to the right and passed through a city gate and into a meadowy lane. In front of a large rambling palace that stood there, he drew up by the side of the road and leaped to the ground not far from a pair of iron gates that marked the entrance. At these gates he was accosted by an armed guard who, with a rather hostile air, blocked the entrance completely with his spear.

What do you want? he asked sharply.

I seek Pan Andrew Tenczynski.

The guard shouted something, whereat five men in armor came running from a little house near the gate.

Surround him, said the guard. This was done much to the astonishment of Pan Andrew. "One of you run to the house and call the captain," next ordered the guard. "Tell him that a countryman is here demanding to see Pan Andrew Tenczynski."

Pan Charnetski, trying to force his way out of the circle, was pushed back into the center by one of the armed men. At that he raised his voice in anger: "Who are you that dare detain me here? I am Pan Andrew Charnetski, first cousin to the Tenczynskis and proprietor of an estate in the Ukraine. I demand that you confront me with an officer in authority and not treat me like one come here as an enemy."

The men of the guard looked at each other in astonishment. Was it possible that this man did not know the truth—the report of which had already spread over the greater portion of Poland?

The captain came in a moment with the returning soldier. He broke through the ring and walked straight up to Pan Charnetski. "What is your business here?" There was certain pleasantness and courtesy in his voice that made Pan Andrew forget his anger for the moment.

You have a civil tongue, young man, he answered. "I take it that you are in command here?"

I am.

Then I will tell you, as I have told your soldiers, that I am Pan Andrew Charnetski, come this day from the Ukraine to see my cousin Pan Andrew Tenczynski on important business.

You come too late, answered the captain. "It is strange that you have not heard, for this news is now all about the country. Pan Andrew Tenczynski lives no longer. His kin have departed from the city for a time, and may return I know not when. I am here for the observance of order, for the protection of the estate against enemies of the family."

Pan Andrew started. "My cousin is dead—and how?"

It was like to nothing the city has seen these many years. For a long time there had been hot blood between the tradesmen and nobles. The issue came to a head through the dissatisfaction of Pan Tenczynski over some piece of armor that he had bidden a smith to make. He not only took the tradesman to task but refused to pay for the work he had done, whereat the whole guild rose against him. They pursued him through the streets and killed him in the Church of the Franciscans, where he had sought shelter. It was a sad and grievous thing, and his family for fear of the mob fled the city. The gentle Elizabeth, our queen—and may the blessing of Heaven beupon her!—hates all strife that may result in the shedding of blood, and she it was who persuaded our king to make peace between the townsfolk and nobles. He sent us here to protect this house, to be a guarantee against the shedding of any blood, for there are many who would willingly pillage this dwelling and kill the servants that are still here. We are but acting upon orders when we detain all persons who seek entrance here, and for the execution of these orders you must give us your pardon, since we seek but to avert further bloodshed.

It seemed to Pan Andrew at that moment as if heaven had fallen about his ears.

Let me give to Pan one piece of advice, continued the captain.

Most willingly will I receive it, said Pan Andrew thoughtfully.

Get yourself from the city as quickly as possible if you be of any blood ties with the Tenczynskis, or else, if you stay, change your name and manner of speech lest some assassin make a mark of you for the benefit of his party.... I greet you then with a hail, as is befitting between equal Pans, and request that, for your own safety, you depart quickly.

But—I must remain here. A band of pillagers, I know not whom exactly, though I think them the paid robbers of someone in high authority, have burned my house in the Ukraine and left not one stone upon another. My fields are ruined as well, and I am here to take refuge with my kinsmen, to bring them word of something very secret, which must go at once to the ears of the king himself.

Alas, answered the captain, "I can give you but little help. The king is at this moment in Torun, where there are said to be plans against the military order of the Knights of the Cross—for he seeksthere in the north peace at all odds. When he will return I know not, perhaps in a month, perhaps in a year. If you would await him here, I would, if I were you, settle in this town and take another name. Later there will come a retribution for these dark deeds against the Tenczynski family, and there will be more crows about the gallows."

Saying which, he turned away and called the guard again to its post.

Pan Andrew, however, stood motionless for a few seconds. The thoughts fairly burned in his brain. His friends, protectors, gone! The king away, he himself a fugitive here no less than in the Ukraine. From every side enemies pressed upon him, and what had he done to deserve such a fate? He was in a predicament even without this complication, for here he was in a great city where he had not a single friend. He had but little money, for what he had gathered had been invested year by year in his house and lands in the Ukraine. There were his wife and his son to be put in a place of shelter, and not only were the means lacking but there was even peril at every hand. Behind him at the gates of the city had appeared one foe— here in the city there were apparently many others. What to do? ... Well.... Let God give.... There would be something.

Aimlessly he got into the wagon, turned it about, and made for the market again. There at least they might spend the day, procure water for the horses, and buy a little of something to eat. He found a place near one of the springs, unloosed the horses with the help of his son, and let them crop the short grass that grew near one edge of the market place, watering them with buckets that he filled at the spring.

Not until then did he seek comfort and counsel from his wife,who had always been his solace at such times; throwing himself down beside her on the wagon seat, he told her the story of his late discoveries, the absence of the king, the death of his kinsman. For a second the woman's heart quailed before the fresh difficulties, but she forgot self at the look in her husband's face. Her quiet reply, "We will wait, for God is in the waiting," filled him with courage again.

Joseph, however, was at that age when no sky remains long clouded. His heart had been beating fast with excitement ever since the sight of the city's towers had loomed before them in the early morning, and his legs had been itching to get out of the wagon and explore the place. He began by taking a short excursion over to a little building near by, which at first glance had seemed to be a market building, but, when he approached it, proved to be a church with a low dome and round side windows. Although the church was of much interest to those who favored historical lore as being one of the oldest churches in Poland, it did not interest the boy greatly. He scrutinized the beggars at the door, a young boy with but one leg, a woman with a back bent to a curve, an old man with sightless eyes, praying continually, and many other wretched alms seekers. Crossing himself and muttering a prayer for God's helpless creatures, Joseph turned and marched down Grodzka Street in the direction of the Wawel.

He had just come to a cross lane which led on the left to the Church of the Dominicans, and on the right to the Church of All Saints, when he noticed a Tartar boy in the street leading and constantly beatings a large Ukrainian wolf dog. The wolf dog was on a leash—he had a strong hand-wrought collar about the neck— and he was turning now and then to glance back at his tormentor,who was plying a short Cossack whip. Joseph watched the boy in amazement, wondering why he had the dog and why he was beating him—as a matter of fact, the boy was acting out of pure viciousness—but neither of these questions found satisfactory solution in Joseph's mind. In a very few minutes, however, another question rose with the suddenness of lightning, a question which required action for a solution, and this action Joseph was able to supply.

For at the moment that the boy and dog were crossing the church lane, there emerged from the farther foot walk a man dressed all in black like a priest, but wearing a collar which was not clerical, since it opened in the front. He did not, however, for the moment attract Joseph's attention; it was his companion that caught and held the boy's gaze. For the companion was a girl of perhaps the same age as Joseph—she was walking by the side of the man in black and now and then grasping at his hand.

Joseph saw the dog no longer. His eyes were riveted on the girl. She seemed to him like an angel taken out of a Christmas play, or a spirit from a Festival of the Three Kings—in truth, she might have been one of those beautiful figures come to life out of the wondrous stained-glass windows in the church. Her hair was light—Joseph's was dark. Her skin was as white as the finest linen, her eyes as blue as the skies above the Vistula; she wore a cloak like garment of red that fell from her shoulders to her ankles and was girdled at the waist. It was embroidered in blue, with lace at neck and wrists; in front it did not meet completely but showed the second garment that she wore beneath, a mantle of blue that fell in folds even below the outer coat. And as she looked up, the country boy thought that he had never seen anything prettier on earth—so daintily she trippedalong that she seemed to walk on clouds. Then for a moment he looked down at his hands, dirty, hard, and grimy; he looked at his clothes and found them dusty and worn after the long journey.

But if he had been in heaven at the sight of the girl, he came back to earth quickly. For the Tartar boy with the dog and the man in black with the girl were close together at the crossing of the roads when suddenly the maddened dog turned desperately at bay upon his tormentor and crouched for a powerful spring. Joseph shouted and rushed forward just as the dog leaped. The Tartar boy dropped the leather thong in a flash and darted down the walk out of reach of the dog's jaws, but leaving directly in his path the man in black and the girl. Blind with fury the dog sprang again, and in an instant he would have come down upon the girl, who happened to be on the outside, had not Joseph at the same moment leaped and caught at the dog's heavy collar.

He had dealt with dogs many times in the Ukraine, and he knew that no dog is vicious if healthy and well treated; therefore there had been no fear in this effort that he made, save for the peril, perhaps, that the dog might mistake him for the boy who had been beating him, and sink his teeth into his flesh.

His fingers caught the collar squarely. The grip held, and he went hurtling through the air like the tail of a skyrocket, as the dog's leap, weighted by this unexpected load, fell short and the girl drew back with a cry. But Joseph and the infuriated animal went rolling to and fro in a wild embrace on the hard surface of the road, he striving to make the beast pay attention to his words, the dog only becoming more and more frightened. But the boy knew, after the first second when all depended upon whether his grip held or not, that everythingwas safe and he could successfully avoid the paws and teeth of the dog. Thus at a favorable moment he released his hold quickly upon the animal's collar and scrambled to his feet while a very dusty and possibly ashamed wolf dog tore off like a streak of lightning in the direction of the Franciscans' church.

第二章 克拉科夫城

“本人恰尔涅茨基,是一名基督徒,这是我的妻子和儿子。”安德鲁先生向一名身穿轻薄铠甲、手拿战戟的卫兵说道。

卫兵快速扫了一眼这一家人,然后示意他们可以放行。另一个穿着黑衣的卫兵向车里看了看,并没有发现什么东西,断定他们只是来城里赶集买东西的乡下人,就按照惯例收了几个铁币的税。交了钱,一家人就进了米克雷斯卡城门,踏上了去往位于城市正中央的老布楼的路。直到现在,老布楼还依旧在那里。

金色的阳光已经洒遍克拉科夫城。约瑟夫从未见过这么大的城市,他左顾右盼,眼前的一切都让他惊讶地张大了嘴。

行驶在他们马车前后的都是满载农产品的货车,排成了一条笔直的长龙。时不时地有威武的骑马者穿行在长龙之间,他们身穿光亮的金刚护甲,长剑垂在马鞍的一侧。一个衣着华丽的骑手从拥挤的队列中穿出,正好走在他们的马车前面,男孩心想这人一定位高权重,说不定就是国王,热爱和平的国王卡济米尔·亚盖洛——卡济米尔四世,他兴奋地喊道:“父亲,那一定是国王!你看他穿着金光闪闪的盔甲,马鞍上还镶着珠宝呢!他的剑亮闪闪的,就像是火苗一样,肯定是金子做的!还有……”他迫不及待地用手指着,“他的鞍褥上用银线绣着波兰之鹰,背景还有立陶宛的白衣骑士。他一定是国王吧?”

“不,儿子,那不是国王。那只不过是在皇家城堡侍奉贵族的普通士兵罢了。”

他们周围的一切,宫殿、教堂、高塔、城墙和哥特风格的建筑都被金色的阳光包裹着,不过大部分建筑都还很简朴,难以想象,几年后它们将在意大利文艺复兴的影响下改头换面,布满各种繁复的雕刻。远处,瓦维尔山上的天主教堂耸立在绿松石般的天空下,罗马风格的塔楼俯瞰着整座城市。近处,是由两座高塔组成的圣玛利亚大教堂,既没有单独的钟楼,也没有尖顶,只是屹立在公墓的上方,脚下簇拥着白色的墓碑。后来由于建筑大师和著名的雕塑家威特·斯特沃兹的改建,现如今我们看到的圣玛利亚教堂已经完全不同,不过这就是后话了。

老布楼就坐落在市场的正中央,周围是小型的木结构建筑。这里是进行布匹交易和买卖的地方,此时已经挤满商人,他们已经在路上奔波了一夜,甚至是好几个日夜,都想早点把货卖出,免得买家把钱花到别处。

布楼外的广场上,有几个从遥远的东边赶来的鞑靼人已经安营扎寨,在那里兜售一些精美的佩剑、布匹和珠宝,都是从莫斯科人、匈牙利人、希腊人或者从草原上的旅人那里掠夺来的战利品。当初升的太阳渐渐笼罩瓦维尔山时,他们都面朝东方,念诵着赞扬真主阿拉的祷告词。他们的祷告声和圣玛利亚教堂的钟声混合在一起,夹杂其中的还有亚美尼亚商人的叫卖声,这些亚美尼亚人从特拉比松以及黑海对岸带来了地毯、香料和精美的皮毡。

这个东西融汇的国际大都市敬奉着人类所知道的所有神明,甚至上帝自己也以很多名字被说着各种语言、各种方言的人所敬奉。土耳其人、哥萨克人、罗塞尼亚人、日耳曼人、佛兰芒人、捷克人以及斯洛伐克人把各种物品带到这里售卖,而匈牙利人带着特兰西瓦尼亚平原上盛产的醇香美酒。

这里流通的货币也是各种各样,有波兰的兹罗提、荷兰盾、德国的格罗申、银条、宝石以及各种实物代币——包括琥珀、成袋的大枣、装在容器里的蔬菜等各式商品,这些物品在汉萨同盟[1]的交易规则中都有公认的价值。这里也有同盟商人的代表,他们是穿着毛领长袍的日耳曼人或者荷兰人,他们和人们做生意时可以用各种语言。

当男孩被四面的景象所深深吸引的时候,街道的上空突然飘来一阵美妙的号声。他抬头望去,看见一只金色的号角从圣玛利亚大教堂塔楼的一扇窗户里伸出来。他仰着头,被教堂庄严的气势所压倒,他眼睛所感受到的安静力量和耳朵所听到的号乐声混合在一起,给他的感官带来了奇妙的震撼。

车水马龙的街道上空高耸着两座塔楼,一高一低,约瑟夫注意到,近处的这座塔楼似乎要比远处的那座略矮一些,那个号手就在高塔的顶楼吹奏小号。

他所吹奏的乐曲是一首简短的晨祷,叫作《海那圣歌》,据说是在基督教兴起早期由南方来的传教士带到波兰的。曲调简短轻快、美妙动听。但突然之间号手却停止了吹奏,仅留下一个中断的音符,从上空飘荡而下,仿佛有人在那一瞬间把小号夺走了。

约瑟夫惊讶地看向父亲,问道:“他怎么不吹完呢?”

安德鲁微笑着说:“说来话长,儿子,我以后再给你讲这个故事。”

号声再次响起,这次是从另一个窗口传来,接着是更远的窗口,最后是从北边,朝着弗洛里安城门的方向吹奏的。号手总共吹奏了四遍《海那圣歌》,但每次乐曲都戛然而止。

“他吹得非常蹩脚。”恰尔涅茨基先生评论道。

虽说安德鲁现在只是一个乡绅,但他在许多方面都造诣颇深。从克拉科夫大学毕业以后,他就决定不谋任何职业,而是按照家族传统,接管家里的田产。他一直热爱音乐,在大学期间就学过音乐,而且擅长铜管乐器,长号、圆号、带按键的号,他都游刃有余。所以,他评论塔楼上号手的演奏时,绝对不是夸夸其谈。

马车离老布楼越来越近,约瑟夫也不再询问父亲关于《海那圣歌》的故事,而是为眼前的奇妙景象所吸引。

映入他眼帘的是一群身穿明亮袍子的商人。他们的长衫用的都是上乘布料,有的还装饰着皮毛,边缘缀着丝绸,一看就是有钱人。他们在长衫下面穿着紧身的服饰,约瑟夫发现一个人穿的裤子,竟然左右裤腿的颜色不一样,这在他的眼里简直是荒唐可笑。不过,当他发现其他人也都是相同的打扮,都穿着紧身的裤腿而且两条裤腿的颜色不同,就忍住了笑,开始好奇地打量着。他这边还没搞明白,就发现了这些人装扮上的其他新奇之处。他们独特的帽饰像他们的紧身裤一样引人注意。他们都围着土耳其头巾,有的尖顶高耸,有的仅仅是把彩色的布随意地缠绕在头顶上。他们头上还戴着风格怪异的装饰——其中一人的帽子顶端甚至卧着一只假公鸡。这些商人的鞋子也很奇怪,都是软皮质的,鞋尖长长的、卷曲向上。还有一个人在鞋子的脚趾部位插着小棍,每只鞋看上去都有两只脚那么长。

老布楼周围的货摊前,小贩们大声地叫卖着各种货物。一个谷物货摊的前面摆着敞口的麻袋,里面装着各种颜色的谷物。一个女人身穿系肩扣的蓝袍,头上戴着用同色长布缠成的帽子,正在向一个过路的音乐家售卖粮食。这个音乐家穿着一件由一块布做成的黄色连身长衣,上面还连着一个蒙头斗篷,衣服一直垂到膝盖,他里面没穿裤子,还赤裸着双脚。长衣外面系着一条亮黄色的腰带。他用一只手臂夹着一支风笛,上面三个突出的管子,两个是发声口,剩下的一个是吹奏口;他的另一只手拿着一个皮口袋,女人正在往里面倒玉米。

恰尔涅茨基一家继续前行,经过了各种货摊和店铺。手套店里,无论是售货的还是挑选购买的女人们,都穿着色泽明亮的长袍;针匠店的店主穿着皮质的围裙,正惬意地躺在长椅上;然后就是铸剑铺,铸剑师正烧着熔炉,墙上挂着一排排闪闪发光的钢刃;还有做浴桶的人,正在组装木板;铁匠们穿着黑色的长围裙,努力把马固定住,准备给它们钉马蹄铁。这里随处可见挂着红色招牌的理发店和给人放血治疗[2]的店铺,以及门口挂着蓝色和绿色大烧瓶的药店。虔诚的天主教徒在商店的外墙上悬挂着从琴斯托霍瓦神庙请来的圣母画像。为了和周围的商家区别开来,几乎每个商人都会在店铺门上做出独特的标记,一个帽店门口挂着“白象之下”的标牌,一个鞋匠在门口立着一座卡济米尔大帝的石雕头像,用来取悦自己和来往的顾客。那时候的公共建筑还没有门牌号,所有的建筑都在大门外面挂一些装饰物,以便相互区别。

大街上到处都是商贩的叫卖声,他们要么吆喝着自己的商品,要么哼唱着自己的职业,有卖花的女孩、磨刀人、面包店的童工,还有屠夫的学徒。

“你想要什么?你想要什么?”他们异口同声地吆喝着。

让约瑟夫兴奋的是,街上偶尔还能碰到猴子,它们都是被东边或南方来的商人带来的。有的猴子绕着货摊玩耍,有的身上系着丝带,被商人或者大官的家眷抱在怀里。

在市场的喧嚣中,还能偶尔听到铁链的当啷声,那是一些可怜的人们戴着铁手铐,将要被押到教堂的高墙内监禁,也许更惨——在行刑前到教堂做最后一次的祷告。那时候的人们都胆战心惊地活着,稍有不慎就可能大祸临头,要么被流放,要么被监禁,甚至招致杀身之祸。

路上还有一队要去往某个神庙的朝圣者,他们从不同的村庄而来,有男有女,都穿着自己最体面的衣服,当地的牧师走在最前面,带领着整个队伍吟唱着圣歌。举着十字架的年轻人肩膀宽厚、眼睛明亮,而且身强体健,因为他发过誓要将上帝的神圣象征从故乡护送到很远的琴斯托霍瓦。这些人已经在路上走了十来天了,队伍中还有小孩子,有的一门心思、满脸严肃,有的则因为第一次见到中世纪克拉科夫的辉煌而东张西望,他们无疑会在之后的祷告中请求上帝原谅他们对俗世的贪恋。

马车驶出市场,拐进格罗兹卡街(也叫城堡街),直接朝瓦维尔山驶去。临近瓦维尔山的时候,安德鲁先生将马车赶到右侧,穿过一道城门,进入了一条长满青草的小路。小路尽头有一座宏伟而古老的宫殿,安德鲁把车赶到路边,敏捷地从车上跳下来,停在宫殿入口的大铁门前。一个全副武装的卫兵在门口用长矛挡住了他的路,略带敌意地盘问起来。

“你有何贵干?”卫兵厉声问道。

“我来找安德鲁·提辛斯基先生。”

卫兵喊了几句话,然后从大门附近的小屋里出来五个全身铠甲的男人。

“围住他!”卫兵喊道。他们这番举动令安德鲁先生非常吃惊。卫兵又命令道,“你们出一个人到里面,向队长报告!就说有一个乡下人想要见安德鲁·提辛斯基先生。”

安德鲁想要突出包围圈,但被其中的一个人挡了回来。他提高了语调,生气地说道:“你们是什么人,竟敢阻拦我?我是安德鲁·恰尔涅茨基,是提辛斯基的大表兄,我在乌克兰经营着大量田产。我要求你们的长官出来接待我,不要像对待敌人一样对我。”

这些卫兵一脸震惊,面面相觑。难道这个人还不知道真相?这件事已经传遍大半个波兰了啊。

不一会儿,队长和那个传话的士兵一同走了出来。他推开包围圈,径直走到了恰尔涅茨基先生的面前,问道:“请问您有何贵干?”他声音中显示出柔和的语气和恭敬的态度,让安德鲁暂时忘记了气愤。

“年轻人,你谈吐文质彬彬,”安德鲁说道,“应该是这里管事的了?”

“是的。”

“那我再把刚才对你手下说的话重复一遍,我叫安德鲁·恰尔涅茨基,从乌克兰到此,找我的表弟安德鲁·提辛斯基先生有要事相谈。”

“你来得太晚了,”卫兵队长回答说,“真是奇怪,你竟然没有听说,这个消息已经全国皆知了。安德鲁·提辛斯基先生已经不在人世了。他的亲友也已经离开这里一段时间了,我也不确定他们什么时候回来。我的任务是保护这里的财物免受敌对家族的破坏。”

安德鲁惊呆了,“我的表弟死了——怎么会这样?”

“这是这么多年以来城里发生的最惨重的一件事了。生意人和贵族之间一直水火不容。提辛斯基先生委托一位铁匠制作兵器,但他对其中的几件并不满意,事态就此恶化。他不仅找这个生意人的麻烦,而且拒绝支付工钱,于是整个行会就联合起来反对他。他们跟踪他,在他所藏身的方济会教堂将他杀害。这件事真是悲惨,他的家人由于害怕暴徒,已经逃离出城了。我们高贵的伊丽莎白王后——愿上帝保佑王后陛下——她讨厌流血冲突,劝说国王让市民和贵族之间和解。国王派我们驻守此地,以免再次发生流血事件,因为很多人可能会来窃夺或是将依然留守的仆人赶尽杀绝。我们必须执行国王的旨意,阻拦任何想要进入这里的人,为此请您见谅,因为我们只是为了避免更多的人员伤亡。”

安德鲁先生此时感觉天都要塌下来了。

“我可以给您一条建议。”队长继续说道。

“我洗耳恭听。”安德鲁若有所思地说。

“如果您和提辛斯基阁下有血缘关系,最好尽快出城;如果您选择留在城里,就要更名改姓,谨言慎行,免得有人谋财害命……那么,请接收我的致礼。另外,为了您的安全,请赶快离开吧。”

“但是,我必须留在这里。一群暴徒,也不知道是什么人,我想可能是受了某个位高权重之人的指使,烧毁了我在乌克兰的房舍,整个房子完全坍塌,连我的田地也被毁了。我来这里就是要投奔亲戚的,我来告诉他们一些非常机密的事情,而且要尽快报告给国王。”

“唉,”队长感叹道,“恕我无能为力。国王此刻正在托伦,据说那里有人在密谋反抗十字军的军令——国王要不惜一切代价维护北方和平。我不清楚国王何时回来,也许一个月,也许一年。如果你要在这里等待,我建议你先在城里安顿下来,然后换个名字。你放心,不久之后,那些谋害提辛斯基先生的人将会得到应有的惩罚,会被送上断头台,引来更多送葬的乌鸦。”

说完,他就转身离开,吩咐士兵各司其职。

安德鲁先生一动不动地在那里站了一会儿。他的脑袋乱哄哄的。他的朋友,他要投奔的人,死了!国王还远在外地!而他千里迢迢从乌克兰逃难到这里,最终还是无家可归,而且来自四面八方的敌人都向他施压,他不明白自己到底做了什么,竟然会遭此劫难。而且,即使他们的处境不像现在这么复杂,要无依无靠地在克拉科夫生存下来,

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