有声双语经典:王子与贫儿

前言 我要讲述一个听来的故事。讲这故事的人是从他父亲那儿听来的，他的父亲又是从“他的”父亲那儿听来的，这位父亲的父亲还是一样，也是从“他的”父亲那儿听来的——一代又一代向前追溯，直到三百多年以前。那时候的父亲们把这故事讲给他们的儿子们听，于是，这故事就得以流传。这故事也许是史实，也许只是传说；也许发生过，也许没有发生过：但它有可能发生过。 ——作者 第1章 王子与贫儿的诞生 在古老的伦敦城里，十六世纪第二个二十五年中的一个秋天，一个小男孩出生在一户姓坎蒂的贫穷人家，这家人并不欢迎这个孩子。就在同一天，在姓都铎的大富之家，另一个英国男孩也出生了，这家人可非常欢迎他。全英国都很欢迎他。人们对这个男孩的降生都期待已久了，对他寄予厚望，向上帝祷告他的诞生。现在，他来到了这个世界，人们欢天喜地地为他庆祝。整个英国，上自达官显贵，下至平民百姓，所有人都放了假，日日夜夜举行宴会，载歌载舞。白天，伦敦城好看极了。家家户户的阳台和屋顶都飘舞着彩旗，华丽的游行队伍在街上穿行。到了夜间，盛况依旧，每个角落都燃起篝火，人们成群结队，围着篝火狂欢作乐。整个英国现在只有一个话题，那就是这个刚出生的孩子——爱德华??都铎，威尔士亲王。他正躺在绸缎制成的襁褓里。至于汤姆??坎蒂，他被包裹在破布片儿里，除了他那贫穷的家人，没有人谈起过他。而他的出生对这家人来说就是个麻烦。 我们跳过几年，讲讲以后的事情。伦敦城已有一千五百年的历史了，对于那个时代来说，它是座伟大的城市。这里的街道狭窄、弯曲、肮脏，尤其是汤姆?? 坎蒂居住的地方。他住在伦敦桥附近，那一带的房子是木头建造的，二楼的地板延伸到一楼的墙壁之外，三楼的建筑更是旁逸斜出。狭小的窗户嵌着菱形玻璃，像门一样装着铰链，朝外开着。汤姆父亲的住所在布丁巷外一个肮脏的死胡同里，那儿被称作垃圾大院。狭窄破旧的院子里住满了贫穷破落的 家庭。坎蒂一家住在三楼的一间房子里。父亲和母亲在角落里有一张不像样的破床；而汤姆和他的奶奶，还有他的两个姐姐贝特和南，只能在地板上找地方睡。他们有一两条破旧不堪的毯子，几捆旧稻草，勉强可以算是“床铺”。早晨，这些东西被踢成一堆；到了晚上，又被拉出来使用。贝特和南是一对十五岁的双胞胎姐妹。她们心地善良，但是模样脏兮兮的，穿得破破烂烂，没受过教育。她们的母亲也是这样的人。可是，父亲和奶奶却是一对魔鬼。他们只要有机会就喝得酩酊大醉，然后互相打架，如果谁挡了他们的道儿，也会挨一顿揍。他们总是骂骂咧咧的。约翰??坎蒂是一个小偷，他的母亲是一个乞丐。他们把孩子们都教成了叫花子，但没能把他们训练成小偷。附近的邻居里有一位善良的老神父，他常常把孩子们叫过去，私下教他们一些正当的道理。安德鲁神父还教会汤姆一些拉丁文，还有读书写字。整个垃圾大院的情况和坎蒂一家差不多，日日夜夜都有人酗酒、打斗。但小汤姆并没有因此不开心。他的日子过得很苦，可他并不自知。垃圾大院里的男孩们过的都是这样的生活，因此，他便以为一切都是理所当然的。当他乞讨了一天，两手空空回到家的时候，他知道父亲会咒骂他、鞭打他。等父亲发泄完了，奶奶又会重来一遍。夜深人静的时候，忍饥挨饿的母亲会把自己省下来的一口食物给汤姆吃。夏天，汤姆的乞讨所得只能填饱自己的肚子，因为禁止乞讨的法律很严格，刑罚也很沉重。于是他便有很多时间去听善良的安德鲁神父讲那些有趣的传奇故事，关于巨人、仙女、矮人、精灵和神秘的城堡，还有贤明的国王和王子。他的脑袋里装满了这些精彩的故事，在许多个夜晚，他又累又饿地躺在草铺上，忍着鞭打留下的疼痛，让自己进入天马行空的想象世界。他在脑海中想象自己变成了王子，王宫里的生活幸福极了，不一会儿他便忘记了疼痛。有一个念头在他的脑海里日日夜夜挥之不去——他想亲眼见一见真正的王子。汤姆曾经跟垃圾大院里的几个伙伴说起这个愿望，但他遭到了狠狠的嘲笑和挖苦。从那以后，他便把这个梦想深埋在自己心中。汤姆照例每天穿着破烂的衣服出门乞讨。他讨到的钱财很少，吃少得可怜的面包屑，一如既往地遭受虐待。到了晚上，他睡在那一小片稻草垫子上，继续做那场宏大的美梦。他想亲眼见一见真正的王子，哪怕只看一眼，这个愿望在他心中越发强烈。一天又一天，一个礼拜又一个礼拜，*终，他心里其他的愿望都被吸走了，这成了他生命中唯一的愿望。一月的一个雨天，汤姆又去乞讨了。他步伐沉重，光着脚走了好几个小时，觉得冷极了。他向商店的橱窗里张望，很想吃一块猪肉馅饼，还有里面陈列的其他食物——他认为那些食物是专为天使准备的——他是根据气味猜测 的，因为他从来不曾幸运地享用过那些美味。 那天晚上，汤姆浑身湿漉漉地回到家，又累又饿，就连爸爸和奶奶看到他的样子，也不能不表示同情——用他们独特的方式。于是他们立即揍了汤姆一顿，叫他去睡觉。有好一阵工夫，汤姆又痛又饿，楼里的咒骂声和打斗声不绝于耳，让他难以入眠。不过，后来他的思绪飘荡到了遥远浪漫的地方，接着他便坠入梦乡。在梦中，他同一些披金戴银的王子们为伴，仆人们向他们鞠躬行礼，或是跑来跑去执行他们的命令。一如既往，他梦见他是一位王子。然而，清晨醒来的时候，当他看清自己悲惨的境遇， 夜晚的美梦便如往常一般，使得他所处的贫困环境显得更糟糕了。他感到痛苦、伤心，流下了眼泪。 CHAPTER 1 The Birth of the Prince and the Pauper In the ancient city of London, on a certain fall day in the second quarter of the sixteenth century, a boy was born to a poor family of the name of Canty, who did not want him. On the same day another English child was born to a rich family of the name of Tudor, who did want him. All England wanted him too. England had so longed for him, and hoped for him, and prayed God for him, that, now that he was really come, the people went nearly mad for joy. Everybody took a holiday, and high and low, rich and poor, feasted and danced and sang; and they kept this up for days and nights together. By day, London was a sight to see, with bright banners waving from every balcony and house-top, and splendid parades. By night, it was again a sight to see, with its great bonfires at every corner, and its troops making merry around them. There was no talk in all England but of the new baby, Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales, who lay covered in silks and satins. But there was no talk about the other baby, Tom Canty, covered in his poor rags, except among the family of paupers whom he had just come to trouble with his presence. Let us skip a number of years. London was fifteen hundred years old, and was a great town—for that day. The streets were narrow, and crooked, and dirty, especially in the part where Tom Canty lived, which was not far from London Bridge. The houses were of wood, with the second story reaching out over the first, and the third sticking its elbows out beyond the second. The windows were small, with little diamond-shaped panes, and they opened outward, on hinges, like doors. The house which Tom’s father lived in was up a foul little pocket called Offal Court, off Pudding Lane. It was small and rickety, but it was packed full of very poor families. Canty’s tribe occupied a room on the third floor. The mother and father had a sort of bed in the corner; but Tom, his grandmother, and his two sisters, Bet and Nan, had all the floor to themselves, and might sleep where they chose. There were the remains of a blanket or two, and some bundles of old straw, but these could not rightly be called beds; they were kicked into a general pile, mornings, and selections made from the mass at night. Bet and Nan were fifteen years old—twins. They were good-hearted girls, unclean, clothed in rags, and ignorant. Their mother was like them. But the father and grandmother were a couple of fiends. They got drunk whenever they could; then they fought each other or anybody else who came in the way; they cursed and swore always; John Canty was a thief, and his mother, a beggar. They made beggars of the children, but failed to make thieves of them. Among the people that inhabited the house was a good old priest, and he used to get the children aside and teach them right ways secretly. Father Andrew also taught Tom a little Latin, and how to read and write. All Offal Court was just such another hive as Canty’s house. Drunkenness and brawling were the order every night and nearly all night long. Yet little Tom was not unhappy. He had a hard time of it, but did not know it. It was the sort of time all the Offal Court boys had, therefore he supposed it was the correct and comfortable thing. When he came home empty-handed at night after a day of begging, he knew his father would curse him and thrash him, and that when he was done the grandmother would do it all over again; and that in the night his starving mother would slip to him any scrap or crust she had been able to save for him. In summer, Tom only begged just enough to save himself, for the laws against begging were harsh, and the penalties heavy; so he put in a good deal of his time listening to good Father Andrew’s charming old tales and legends about giants and fairies, dwarfs, genii, and enchanted castles, and gorgeous kings and princes. His head grew to be full of these wonderful things, and many a night as he lay in the dark on his straw, tired, hungry, smarting from a thrashing, he let go his imagination and soon forgot his aches in picturings to himself of the charmed life of a prince in a palace. One desire came to haunt him day and night; it was to see a real prince, with his own eyes. He spoke of it once to some of his Offal Court comrades; but they jeered him and scoffed at him so much that he kept his dream to himself after that. Each day he would go forth in his rags and beg a few farthings, eat his poor crust, take his customary abuse, and then stretch himself upon his handful of straw, and begin again his grand dreams. His desire to look just once upon a real prince, in the flesh, grew upon him, day by day, and week by week, until at last it absorbed all other desires, and became the one passion of his life. One rainy January day, on his usual begging tour, he tramped up and down, hour after hour, barefooted and cold, looking in at shop windows and longing for the pork-pies and other items displayed there—for to him these were foods fit for the angels; that is, judging by the smell, they were—for it had never been his good luck to own and eat one. That night Tom reached home so wet and tired and hungry that it was not possible for his father and grandmother to see his condition and not be moved— after their fashion; so they gave him a beating at once and sent him to bed. For a long time his pain and hunger, and the swearing and the fighting going on in the building, kept him awake; but at last his thoughts drifted away to far, romantic lands, and he fell asleep in the company of jewelled and gilded princelings who lived in great palaces, and had servants bowing before them or flying to carry out their orders. And then, as usual, he dreamed he was a princeling himself. But when he awoke in the morning and looked upon the wretchedness about him, his dream had its usual effect—it made worse the poverty of his surroundings. Then came bitterness, and heartbreak, and tears.