英语听书《白鲸记》 第15期

"I'll break it for him," said I, now flying into apassion again at this unaccountable farrago of thelandlord's.

"It's broke a'ready," said he.

"Broke," said I—"BROKE, do you mean?"

"Sartain, and that's the very reason he can't sell it, Iguess."

"Landlord," said I, going up to him as cool as Mt.Hecla in a snow-storm—"landlord, stop whittling. Youand I must understand one another, and that too without delay. I come to your house andwant a bed; you tell me you can only give me half a one; that the other half belongs to acertain harpooneer. And about this harpooneer, whom I have not yet seen, you persist intelling me the most mystifying and exasperating stories tending to beget in me anuncomfortable feeling towards the man whom you design for my bedfellow—a sort ofconnexion, landlord, which is an intimate and confidential one in the highest degree. I nowdemand of you to speak out and tell me who and what this harpooneer is, and whether I shallbe in all respects safe to spend the night with him. And in the first place, you will be so good asto unsay that story about selling his head, which if true I take to be good evidence that thisharpooneer is stark mad, and I've no idea of sleeping with a madman; and you, sir, YOU Imean, landlord, YOU, sir, by trying to induce me to do so knowingly, would thereby renderyourself liable to a criminal prosecution."

"Wall," said the landlord, fetching a long breath, "that's a purty long sarmon for a chap that ripsa little now and then. But be easy, be easy, this here harpooneer I have been tellin' you of hasjust arrived from the south seas, where he bought up a lot of 'balmed New Zealand heads(great curios, you know), and he's sold all on 'em but one, and that one he's trying to sell to-night, cause to-morrow's Sunday, and it would not do to be sellin' human heads about thestreets when folks is goin' to churches. He wanted to, last Sunday, but I stopped him just as hewas goin' out of the door with four heads strung on a string, for all the airth like a string ofinions."

This account cleared up the otherwise unaccountable mystery, and showed that the landlord,after all, had had no idea of fooling me—but at the same time what could I think of aharpooneer who stayed out of a Saturday night clean into the holy Sabbath, engaged in such acannibal business as selling the heads of dead idolators?

"Depend upon it, landlord, that harpooneer is a dangerous man."

"He pays reg'lar," was the rejoinder. "But come, it's getting dreadful late, you had better beturning flukes—it's a nice bed; Sal and me slept in that ere bed the night we were spliced.There's plenty of room for two to kick about in that bed; it's an almighty big bed that. Why,afore we give it up, Sal used to put our Sam and little Johnny in the foot of it. But I got adreaming and sprawling about one night, and somehow, Sam got pitched on the floor, andcame near breaking his arm.