We were in class when the head-master came in, followed by a "new fellow,"not wearing the school uniform, and a school servant carrying a large desk. Those who had been asleep woke up, and every one rose as if just surprised at his work.
我们正在上自习,校长进来了,后面跟着一个没有穿学生装的“新生”,还有一个小校工,扛着一张大书桌。正在打磕睡的学生也醒过来了,个个站了起来,仿佛功课受到了打扰似的。
The headmaster made a sign to us to sit down. Then, turning to the classmaster, he said to him in a low voice—
校长朝我们挥挥手,让我们坐下,然后转过身去,低声对班主任说:
"Monsieur Roger, here is a pupil whom I recommend to your cares he' II be in the second. If his work and conduct are satisfactory, he will go into one of the upper classes, as becomes his age."
“罗杰先生,我把这个学生交给你了,让他上五年级的课吧。如果他的学习和品德都不错,再让他进高年级,按他的岁数应该上高年级才是。”
The "new fellow,"standing in the corner behind the door so that he could hardly be seen, was a country lad of about fifteen, and taller than any of us. His hair was cut square on his forehead like a village chorister's; he looked reliable, but very ill at ease. Although he was not broad-shouldered, his short school jacket of green cloth with black buttons must have been tight about the arm—holes, and showed at the opening of the cuffs red wrists accustomed to being bare. His legs, in blue stockings, looked out from beneath yellow trousers, drawn tight by braces, He wore stout, ill-cleaned,hob-nailed boots.
这个“新生”坐在门背后的角落里,门一开,谁也看不见他,他是一个小乡巴佬,大约有15岁,个子比我们都高。他的头发顺着前额剪齐,像乡下教堂里的歌童,看样子老实听话,连手脚都不知往哪儿搁。他的肩并不宽,可那件黑纽扣绿呢子上装却仿佛被他的肩绷得紧紧的,活动不便,袖饰开权处露出了经常风吹日晒的手腕,红红的。两根背带把他那条浅黄色的裤子吊得很高,露出穿着蓝袜子的双脚。脚上穿了一双不常擦油的钉鞋。
We began repeating the lesson. He listened with all his ears, as attentive as if at a sermon, not daring even to cross his legs or lean on his elbow, and when at two o' clock the bell rang,the master was obliged to tell him to fall into line with the rest of us.
我们开始背诵课文。他竖起耳朵听着,全神贯注,就像在教堂里听传道,连腿也不敢跷,胳膊也不敢放在书桌上。两点钟下课铃响的时候,要不是班主任提醒他,他也不知道和我们一起排队。
When we came back to work, we were in the habit of throwing ouraps on the ground so as to have our hands more free, we used from the door to toss them under the form, so that they hit against the wall and made a lot of dust: it was the thing.
我们平时有个习惯,一进教室,就把帽子扔在地上,以免拿在手里碍事;因此,一跨过门槛,就得把帽子扔到长凳底下,掀起一片尘土,拍打在墙壁上;这已习以为常了。
But, whether he had not noticed the trick, or did not dare to attempt it, the "new fellow",was still holding his cap on his knees even after prayers were over. It was one of those head-gears of composite order, in which we can find traces of the bearskin,shako, billycock hat, sealskin cap, and cotton night- cap; one of those poor things, in fine, whose dumb ugliness has depths of expression, like an imbecile's face. Oval,stiffened with whalebone,it began with three round knobs;then came in succession lozenges of velvet and rabbit-skin separated by a red band, after that a sort of bag that ended in a cardboard polygon covered with complicated braiding, from which hung, at the end of a long thin cord, small twisted gold threads in the manner of a tassel. The cap was new, its peak shone.
不知道这个新生是没有注意到我们这一套,还是不敢跟大家一样做,课前的祷告做完之后,他还把鸭舌帽放在膝盖上。他的帽子像是一盘大杂烩,看不出到底是皮帽、军帽、圆顶帽、尖嘴帽还是睡帽,反正是便宜货,说不出的难看,好像哑巴吃了黄连后的苦脸。帽子是鸡蛋形的,里面用铁丝支撑着,帽口有三道滚边;往上是交错的菱形丝绒和兔皮,中间有条红线隔开。再往上是口袋似的帽筒,帽顶是多边的硬壳纸,纸上蒙着复杂的彩绣,还有一根细长的饰带,末端吊着一个金线结成的小十字架作为坠子。帽子是新的,帽檐还闪光呢。
"Rise,"said the master.
“站起来,”老师说。
He stood ups his cap fell. The whole class began to laugh. He stooped to pick it up. A neighbor knocked it down again with his elbow, he picked it up once more.
他一起立.鸭舌帽就掉了。全班同学都笑了起来。他弯腰去拣帽子。旁边一个学生用胳膊捅了他一下,帽子又掉了,他又拣了一回。
"Get rid of your helmet,”said the master, who was a bit of a wag.
“不必担心,你的王冠不会摔坏。”老师很风趣地说。
There was a burst of laughter from the boys,which so thoroughly put the poor lad out of countenance that he did not know whether to keep his cap in his hand, leave it on the ground, or put it on his head. He sat down again and placed it on his knee.
同学们都哈哈大笑起来,可怜的新生更加手足无措了,不知道帽子应该拿在手里,还是让它掉在地下,还是把它戴在头上。他坐下,仍然把帽子搁在并拢的双膝上。
"Rise," repeated the master, "and tell me your name."
“站起来,”老师又说了一遍,“告诉我,你叫什么名字。”
The new boy articulated in a stammering voice an unintelligible name.
新生嘟嘟嚷嚷地说了个名字,根本听不清楚他说的是什么。
"Again!"
“再说一遍!”
The same sputtering of syllables was heard, drowned by the tittering of the class.
还是嘟嘟嚷嚷含混不清的声音,全班笑得更厉害了。
"Louder!" cried the master, "louder!"
“声音高点!”老师喊道,“声音高点!”
The "new fellow" then took a supreme resolution, opened an inordinately large mouth, and shouted at the top of his voice as if calling someone in the word "Charbovari."
于是“新生”狠下决心,张开血盆大口,像在呼救似的,使出了吃奶的力气说道:“夏包华里!”
A hubbub broke out, rose in crescendo with bursts of shrill voices (they yelled,barked,stamped,repeated "Charbovari! Charbovari"),then died away into single notes,growing quieter only with great difficulty, and now and again suddenly recommencing along the line of a form whence rose here and there, like a damp cracker going off, a stifled laugh.
这下好了,笑声叫声直线上升,越闹越凶,有的声音尖得刺耳,有的像狼嚎,有的像狗叫,有人跺脚,有人学舌:“下坡花力!下坡花力!”好不容易平息下来,但是一排板凳好像一串爆竹,说不准什么时候还会爆发出一两声压制不住的笑声,犹如死灰复燃的爆竹一样。
However, amid a rain of impositions, order was gradually re-established in the class; and the master having succeeded in catching the name of "Charles Bovary," having had it dictated to him, spelt out, and re-read, at once ordered the poor devil to go and sit down on the punishment form at the foot of the master' s desk. He got up, but before going hesitated.
然而,在暴雨般的作业重罚下,课堂次序渐渐恢复,老师让新生一个字母一个字母地反复拼读,由他写在黑板上,这才弄清楚新生的名字叫夏尔·包法利,他当即命这个可怜虫坐到讲台前懒学生的凳子上去。
作者介绍:
居斯塔夫·福楼拜(1821-1880), 19世纪中叶法国现实主义作家。生于法国诺曼底卢昂医生世家。福楼拜在中学时从事文学习作。早期习作有浓厚的浪漫主义色彩。1857年,福楼拜出版了轰动文坛的长篇小说《包法利夫人》。但作品受到*指控,罪名是败坏道德,毁谤宗教。此后,他一度转入古代题材创作,于1862年发表长篇小说《萨朗波》.他的作品语言精练、准确、铿锵有力,是法国文学的“模范散文”之作。
平庸的医学学生查理·包法利,在他那年长而衰弱的太太去世后和心爱的爱玛结婚。浪漫的爱玛对这个不懂生活情趣的丈夫日渐厌倦,查理为了妻子能高兴,搬到了勇维尔·拉贝。在这里爱玛接连遭到了赖昂和罗道尔弗的抛弃。绝望的爱玛委身于读书归来的赖昂,陷入了堕落的快乐中。为了维持与这些男人的关系,爱玛一再举债,直至破产。在绝望之余,她服砷自杀了。
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