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双语小说
【分类】世界名著
-[作者: 查尔斯-狄更斯]
阅读：[49799]
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诺亚吓了一大跳。
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一个月的试用期结束了，奥立弗正式当上了学徒。眼下正是疾病流行的有利时节，用商界的行话来说，棺材行情看涨。几个星期之间，奥立弗学到了很多经验，苏尔伯雷先生的点子别出心裁，果然立竿见影，甚而超出了他最为乐观的估计。当地年纪最大的居民都想不起有哪个时候麻疹如此盛行，对儿童的生命形成如此严重的威胁。小奥立弗多次率领葬礼行列，他配上了一条拖到膝盖的帽带，使城里所有做母亲的都生出一份说不出的感动和赞赏。奥立弗还陪同老板参加了绝大多数为成年人送葬的远征，以便操练作为一个干练的殡葬承办人所必备的庄重举止和应对能力，他在无数次机会中观察到，一些意志坚定的人在经受生离死别考验时表现出令人羡慕的顺从与刚毅。
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比方说，苏尔伯雷收到了一张替某一位有钱的老太太或者老绅士举行葬礼的定单，死者身边围了一大帮侄儿侄女，这些人在死者患病期间满腔悲痛，甚至在大庭广众之中也全然控制不住语词的所指。外延训练采用“等等”、指数、日期、连字符、，背地里却再欢喜不过了――个个踌躇满志，谈笑风生，无拘无束地打浑逗趣，就跟没有什么惹他们心烦的事情发生一样。男士们以绝代英雄般的镇定克制着丧妻的痛苦，作妻子的表面上为丈夫换上了丧服，但决非出肾优伤，她们内心早已盘算好了，穿上去既要尽量得体，又要尽可能增添魅力。看得出来一些在葬礼进行中痛不欲生的女士先生一回到家里便恢复过来，没等喝完茶已经安之若素了。这一切细看起来，颇为令人开心，而且极富教益，奥立弗将这一切看在眼里，内心十分佩服。
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尽管我是奥立弗退斯特的传记作者，但却毫无把握断言，在这些正人君子的榜样感召下，他变得逆来顺受了，不过有一点我可以毫不含糊地肯定，好几个月来，面对着诺亚克雷波尔的欺凌和虐待，他一直忍气吞声。诺亚待他比当初厉害多了。眼看新来的小家伙步步高升，配上了黑手杖和帽带，自己资格比他老，却照旧戴着松饼帽，身穿皮短裤，不由得妒火中烧。夏洛蒂因为诺亚的缘故，对他也很坏。苏尔伯雷太太看出丈夫想和奥立弗联络感情，成了他的死对头。所以一头是这三位，另一头是生意兴隆的殡葬业务，奥立弗处在二者之间，他的日子完全不像被错关进啤酒厂谷仓里的饿猪那样舒服惬意。
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现在，我即将写到奥立弗的经历中非常重要的一节了，这一段表面上看可能微不足道，但却间接地使他整个未来的景况和道路发生了极其巨大的变化，必须记录下来。
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一天，奥立弗和诺亚照着平日开晚饭的时间一块儿下楼，来到厨房，共同享用一小块羊肉――一段重一磅半，毫无油水的羊颈子之一。认为从恩格斯开始，马克思主义就变成了对自然、社，那功夫夏洛蒂给叫出去了，其间有一个短暂的间隔，饥饿难熬，品行恶劣的诺亚克雷波尔盘算了一番，更有价值的高招八成是想不出来了，那就戏弄一下小奥立弗吧。
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诺亚打定主意要开这么一个无伤大雅的玩笑，他将双脚跷到桌布上，一把揪住奥立弗的头发，拧了拧他的耳朵，阐发了一通自己的看法，宣布他是一个“卑鄙小人”，而且宣称自己将来看得到他上绞架，这桩值得期待的事件迟早会发生云云。诺亚把各式各样逗猫惹狗的话题全搬了出来，凡是一个出言不逊、心理病态的慈善学校学生想得出来的都说了。然而这些辱骂一句也没有收到预期的效果――把奥立弗惹哭。诺亚还想做得更滑稽一些。时至今日，许多人有一点小聪明，名气也比诺亚大得多，每当他们想逗逗趣的时候往往也会来这一手。诺亚变得更加咄咄逼人了。
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“济贫院，”诺亚说，“你母亲还好吧？”
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“她死了，”奥立弗回答，“你别跟我谈她的事。”
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奥立弗说这句话的时候涨红了脸，呼吸急促，嘴唇和鼻翅奇怪地翕动着，克雷波尔先生认定，这是一场嚎陶大哭即将爆发的先兆。他的攻势更凌厉了。
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“济贫院，她是怎么死的？”诺亚说道。
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“我们那儿有个老护士告诉我，是她的心碎了，”奥立弗仿佛不是在回答诺亚的问题，而是在对自己讲话，“我知道心碎了是怎么回事。”
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“托得路罗罗尔，济贫院，你真是蠢到家了，”诺亚看见一滴泪水顺着奥立弗的脸颊滚下来，“谁让你这么哭鼻子？”
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“不是你，”奥立弗赶紧抹掉眼泪答道，“反正不是你。”
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“噢，不是我，嗯？”诺亚冷笑道。
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“对，不是你，”奥立弗厉声回答，“够了。你别跟我提起她，最好不要提。”
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“最好不要提？”诺亚嚷了起来，“好啊。不要提。济贫院，别不知羞耻了。你妈也一样。她是个美人儿，这没得说。喔，天啦。”说到这里，诺亚表情丰富地点了点头，同时还远足气力把小小的红鼻头皱拢来。
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“你知道，济贫院，”诺亚尼奥立弗不作声，说得更起劲了，嘲弄的语调中夹带着假装出来的怜悯，这种腔调最叫人受不了，“你知道，现在已经没有办法了，当然，你那时也是没办法，我对此深感遗憾，我相信大家都是这样，非常非常同情。不过，济贫院，你得知道，你妈是个里里外外烂透了的践货。”
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“你说什么？”奥立弗唰地抬起头来。
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“里里外外烂透了的贱货，济贫院，”诺亚冷冷地回答，“她死得正是时候，不然的话，现在可还在布莱德维感化院做苦工，或者是去流放，要么就是给绞死了，这倒是比前边说的两种情况更有可能，你说呢？”
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愤怒使奥立弗的脸变成了深红色，他猛地跳了起来，把桌椅掀翻在地，一把卡住诺亚的脖子，拼命推搡，狂怒之下，他牙齿咬得格格直响，用尽全身气力朝诺亚扑过去，把他打倒在地。
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一分钟之前，这孩子看上去还是个沉静、温柔的小家伙，因备受虐待而显得无精打采，现在他终于忍无可忍，诺亚对他死去的母亲的恶毒诬蔑使他热血沸腾。他直挺挺地站在那里，胸脯一起一伏，目光炯炯有神，整个形象都变了。他扫了一眼伏在自己脚下的这个使自己吃尽苦头的胆小鬼，以一种前所未有的刚强向他挑战。
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“他会杀死我的！”诺亚哇哇大哭，“夏洛蒂，太太。新来的伙计要打死我了！救命啦！来人啦！奥立弗发疯啦！夏――洛蒂！”
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与诺亚的呼号相应答的是夏洛蒂的一声高声尖叫，更响亮的一声是苏尔伯雷太太发出的，前者从侧门冲进了厨房，后者却在楼梯上停住了，直到她认为继续往下走与保全性命并不矛盾才下去。
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“噢，你这个小坏蛋！”夏洛蒂尖叫着，使出吃奶的力气一把揪住奥立弗，那副劲头差不多可以与体格相当强壮又经过特别训练的男子媲美。“噢，你这个忘――恩――负――义的杀――人――犯，恶――棍！”夏洛蒂每停顿一次，便狠命地揍奥立弗一拳，并发出一声尖叫，在场的人都感到过瘾。
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夏洛蒂的拳头绝对不是轻飘飘的那种，苏尔伯雷太太却担心在平息奥立弗的怒气方面仍不够有效，她冲进厨房，伸出一只手挽住奥立弗，另一只手在他脸上乱抓。诺亚借助这样大好的形势，从地上爬起来，往奥立弗身上挥拳猛击。
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这种剧烈的运动不可能搞得太久，不多一会儿，三个人便累了，抓也抓不动了，打也打不动了，他们把不断挣扎、叫喊，但丝毫也没有被制服的奥立弗推进垃圾地窖，锁了起来。这事一办妥，苏尔伯雷太太便瘫倒在椅子上，放声大哭起来。
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“老天保佑，她又犯病了。”夏洛蒂说道，“诺亚，我亲爱的，取杯水来，快些。”
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“哦！夏洛蒂，”苏尔伯雷太太强打起精神说道。诺亚这时已经在太太的头上、肩膀上泼了些水，太太只觉得空气不够，凉水又太多了点。“哦！夏洛蒂，真是运气啊，我们没有全都被杀死在自己的床上。”
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“啊！真是运气呢，夫人，”夏洛蒂很有同感，“我只希望老板记住教训，别再招这些个坏蛋，他们天生就是杀人犯。强盗什么的。可怜的诺亚，夫人，我进来的时候，他差一点儿没被打死。”
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“可怜的孩子。”苏尔伯雷太太怜悯地望着那个慈善学校的学生，说道。
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诺亚背心上的第一颗纽扣想必也和奥立弗的帽顶差不多高了，听到这一句对他表示同情的话，他竟然用手腕内侧抹起眼睛来，哭得挺叫人同情，鼻子里还直哼哼。
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“这可怎么好？”苏尔伯雷太太高声嚷起来，“你们老板不在家，这屋子里一个男人都没有，不出十分钟，他就要把门踢倒啦。”奥立弗对那块木板猛踢猛撞，使这种可能性大大增加。
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“天啦，天啦！夫人，我不知道，”夏洛蒂说道，“除非派人去叫警察。”
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“要不叫当兵的。”克雷波尔先生出了个点子。
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“不，不，”苏尔伯雷太太想起了奥立弗的老朋友，“诺亚，到邦布尔先生那儿跑一趟，告诉他照直上这儿来，一分钟也别耽搁。别找你的帽子了。要快。你一边跑，一边弄把刀子贴在那只打青了的眼睛上，可以消肿。”
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诺亚没再多说，立刻以最快速度出发了。这功夫路上的人见到下边的场面准会吓一大跳，一个慈善学校学生没命地从街道上狂奔而去，头上连帽子也没戴，用一把折刀捂在一只眼睛上。
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OLIVER, BEING GOADED BY THE TAUNTS OF NOAH, ROUSES INTO ACTION, AND RATHER ASTONISHES HIM
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The month’s trial over, Oliver was formally apprenticed. It was a nice sickly season just at this time. In commercial phrase, coffins were looking up; and, in the course of a few weeks, Oliver acquired a great deal of experience. The success of Mr. Sowerberry’s ingenious speculation, exceeded even his most sanguine hopes. The oldest inhabitants recollected no period at which measles had been so prevalent, or so fatal to infant existence; and many were the mournful processions which little Oliver headed, in a hat-band reaching down to his knees, to the indescribable admiration and emotion of all the mothers in the town. As Oliver accompanied his master in most of his adult expeditions too, in order that he might acquire that equanimity of demeanour and full command of nerve which was essential to a finished undertaker, he had many opportunities of observing the beautiful resignation and fortitude with which some strong-minded people bear their trials and losses.
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For instance; when Sowerberry had an order for the burial of some rich old lady or gentleman, who was surrounded by a great number of nephews and nieces, who had been perfectly inconsolable during the previous illness, and whose grief had been wholly irrepressible even on the most public occasions, they would be as happy among themselves as need be--quite cheerful and contented--conversing together with as much freedom and gaiety, as if nothing whatever had happened to disturb them. Husbands, too, bore the loss of their wives with the most heroic calmness. Wives, again, put on weeds for their husbands, as if, so far from grieving in the garb of sorrow, they had made up their minds to render it as becoming and attractive as possible. It was observable, too, that ladies and gentlemen who were in passions of anguish during the ceremony of interment, recovered almost as soon as they reached home, and became quite composed before the tea-drinking was over. All this was very pleasant and improving to see; and Oliver beheld it with great admiration.
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That Oliver Twist was moved to resignation by the example of these good people, I cannot, although I am his biographer, undertake to affirm with any degree of confidence; but I can most distinctly say, that for many months he continued meekly to submit to the domination and ill-treatment of Noah Claypole: who used him far worse than before, now that his jealousy was roused by seeing the new boy promoted to the black stick and hatband, while he, the old one, remained stationary in the muffin-cap and leathers. Charlotte treated him ill, because Noah did; and Mrs. Sowerberry was his decided enemy, because Mr. Sowerberry was disposed to be his friend; so, between these three on one side, and a glut of funerals on the other, Oliver was not altogether as comfortable as the hungry pig was, when he was shut up, by mistake, in the grain department of a brewery.
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And now, I come to a very important passage in Oliver’s history; for I have to record an act, slight and unimportant perhaps in appearance, but which indirectly produced a material change in all his future prospects and proceedings.
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One day, Oliver and Noah had descended into the kitchen at the usual dinner-hour, to banquet upon a small joint of mutton--a pound and a half of the worst end of the neck--when Charlotte being called out of the way, there ensued a brief interval of time, which Noah Claypole, being hungry and vicious, considered he could not possibly devote to a worthier purpose than aggravating and tantalising young Oliver Twist.
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Intent upon this innocent amusement, Noah put his feet on the table-cloth; and pulled Oliver’s hair; and twitched his ears; and expressed his opinion that he was a ’sneak’; and furthermore announced his intention of coming to see him hanged, whenever that desirable event should take place; and entered upon various topics of petty annoyance, like a malicious and ill-conditioned charity-boy as he was. But, making Oliver cry, Noah attempted to be more facetious still; and in his attempt, did what many sometimes do to this day, when they want to be funny. He got rather personal.
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’Work’us,’ said Noah, ’how’s your mother?’
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’She’s dead,’ replied Oliver; ’don’t you say anything about her to me!’
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Oliver’s colour rose as he said this; he breathed quickly; and there was a curious working of the mouth and nostrils, which Mr. Claypole thought must be the immediate precursor of a violent fit of crying. Under this impression he returned to the charge.
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’What did she die of, Work’us?’ said Noah.
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’Of a broken heart, some of our old nurses told me,’ replied Oliver: more as if he were talking to himself, than answering Noah. ’I think I know what it must be to die of that!’
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’Tol de rol lol lol, right fol lairy, Work’us,’ said Noah, as a tear rolled down Oliver’s cheek. ’What’s set you a snivelling now?’
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’Not _you_,’ replied Oliver, sharply. ’There; that’s enough. Don’t say anything more to me about her; you’d better not!’
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’Better not!’ exclaimed Noah. ’Well! Better not! Work’us, don’t be impudent. _Your_ mother, too! She was a nice ’un she was. Oh, Lor!’ And here, Noah nodded his head expressively; and curled up as much of his small red nose as muscular action could collect together, for the occasion.
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’Yer know, Work’us,’ continued Noah, emboldened by Oliver’s silence, and speaking in a jeering tone of affected pity: of all tones the most annoying: ’Yer know, Work’us, it can’t be helped now; and of course yer couldn’t help it then; and I am very sorry for it; and I’m sure we all are, and pity yer very much. But yer must know, Work’us, yer mother was a regular right-down bad ’un.’
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’What did you say?’ inquired Oliver, looking up very quickly.
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’A regular right-down bad ’un, Work’us,’ replied Noah, coolly. ’And it’s a great deal better, Work’us, that she died when she did, or else she’d have been hard labouring in Bridewell, or transported, or hung; which is more likely than either, isn’t it?’
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Crimson with fury, Oliver started up; overthrew the chair and table; seized Noah by the throat; shook him, in the violence of his rage, till his teeth chattered in his head; and collecting his whole force into one heavy blow, felled him to the ground.
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A minute ago, the boy had looked the quiet child, mild, dejected creature that harsh treatment had made him. But his spirit was roused at last; the cruel insult to his dead mother had set his blood on fire. His breast heaved; his attitude was erect; his eye bright and vivid; his whole person changed, as he stood glaring over the cowardly tormentor who now lay crouching at his feet; and defied him with an energy he had never known before.
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’He’ll murder me!’ blubbered Noah. ’Charlotte! missis! Here’s the new boy a murdering of me! Help! help! Oliver’s gone mad! Char--lotte!’
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Noah’s shouts were responded to, by a loud scream from Charlotte, and a louder from Mrs. Sowerberry; the former of whom rushed into the kitchen by a side-door, while the latter paused on the staircase till she was quite certain that it was consistent with the preservation of human life, to come further down.
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’Oh, you little wretch!’ screamed Charlotte: seizing Oliver with her utmost force, which was about equal to that of a moderately strong man in particularly good training. ’Oh, you little un-grate-ful, mur-de-rous, hor-rid villain!’ And between every syllable, Charlotte gave Oliver a blow with all her might: accompanying it with a scream, for the benefit of society.
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Charlotte’s fist was by no means a light one; but, lest it should not be effectual in calming Oliver’s wrath, Mrs. Sowerberry plunged into the kitchen, and assisted to hold him with one hand, while she scratched his face with the other. In this favourable position of affairs, Noah rose from the ground, and pommelled him behind.
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This was rather too violent exercise to last long. When they were all wearied out, and could tear and beat no longer, they dragged Oliver, struggling and shouting, but nothing daunted, into the dust-cellar, and there locked him up. This being done, Mrs. Sowerberry sunk into a chair, and burst into tears.
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’Bless her, she’s going off!’ said Charlotte. ’A glass of water, Noah, dear. Make haste!’
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’Oh! Charlotte,’ said Mrs. Sowerberry: speaking as well as she could, through a deficiency of breath, and a sufficiency of cold water, which Noah had poured over her head and shoulders. ’Oh! Charlotte, what a mercy we have not all been murdered in our beds!’
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’Ah! mercy indeed, ma’am,’ was the reply. I only hope this’ll teach master not to have any more of these dreadful creatures, that are born to be murderers and robbers from their very cradle. Poor Noah! He was all but killed, ma’am, when I come in.’
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’Poor fellow!’ said Mrs. Sowerberry: looking piteously on the charity-boy.
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Noah, whose top waistcoat-button might have been somewhere on a level with the crown of Oliver’s head, rubbed his eyes with the inside of his wrists while this commiseration was bestowed upon him, and performed some affecting tears and sniffs.
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’What’s to be done!’ exclaimed Mrs. Sowerberry. ’Your master’s not at home; there’s not a man in the house, and he’ll kick that door down in ten minutes.’ Oliver’s vigorous plunges against the bit of timber in question, rendered this occurance highly probable.
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’Dear, dear! I don’t know, ma’am,’ said Charlotte, ’unless we send for the police-officers.’
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’Or the millingtary,’ suggested Mr. Claypole.
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’No, no,’ said Mrs. Sowerberry: bethinking herself of Oliver’s old friend. ’Run to Mr. Bumble, Noah, and tell him to come here directly, and not to lose a minute; never mind your cap! Make haste! You can hold a knife to that black eye, as you run along. It’ll keep the swelling down.’
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Noah stopped to make no reply, but started off at his fullest speed; and very much it astonished the people who were out walking, to see a charity-boy tearing through the streets pell-mell, with no cap on his head, and a clasp-knife at his eye.
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