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  外语解密学习法 逆读法(Reverse Reading Method)   解读法(Decode-Reading Method)训练范文 ——                 

    解密目标语言:英语                                解密辅助语言:汉语
                    Language to be decoded:  English            Auxiliary Language :  Chinese  


                  解密文本:
   《我的叔叔于勒》  [法国] 莫泊桑 原著,  中文译者 谢国芳(Roy Xie)
   
    

                                                      
Mon Oncle Jules
par  Guy de Maupassant

  
    

 

        My Uncle Jules            
                                                                by   Guy de Maupassant    
                                                                

                                                    
        法汉对照(French & Chinese)                                    法英对照(French & English)                               英汉对照(English & Chinese)
    

 

A white-haired old man begged us for alms. My companion, Joseph Davranche, gave him five francs. Noticing my surprised look, he said:
    "That poor unfortunate reminds me of a story which I shall tell you, the memory of which continually pursues me. Here it is:


    "My family, which came originally from Havre, was not rich. We just managed to make both ends meet. My father worked hard, came home late from the office, and earned very little. I had two sisters.
    "My mother suffered a good deal from our reduced circumstances, and she often had harsh words for her husband, veiled and sly reproaches. The poor man then made a gesture which used to distress me. He would pass his open hand over his forehead, as if to wipe away perspiration which did not exist, and he would answer nothing. I felt his helpless suffering. We economized on everything, and never would accept an invitation to dinner, so as not to have to return the courtesy. All our provisions were bought at bargain sales. My sisters made their own gowns, and long discussions would arise on the price of a piece of braid worth fifteen centimes a yard. Our meals usually consisted of soup and beef, prepared with every kind of sauce. They say it is wholesome and nourishing, but I should have preferred a change.
    "I used to go through terrible scenes on account of lost buttons and torn trousers.

 "Every Sunday, dressed in our best, we would take our walk along the breakwater. My father, in a frock coat, high hat and kid gloves, would offer his arm to my mother, decked out and beribboned like a ship on a holiday. My sisters, who were always ready first, would await the signal for leaving; but at the last minute some one always found a spot on my father’s frock coat, and it had to be wiped away quickly with a rag moistened with benzene.
 
    "My father, in his shirt sleeves, his silk hat on his head, would await the completion of the operation, while my mother, putting on her spectacles, and taking off her gloves in order not to spoil them, would make haste.
   
     "Then we set out ceremoniously. My sisters marched on ahead, arm in arm. They were of marriageable age and had to be displayed. I walked on the left of my mother and my father on her right. I remember the pompous air of my poor parents in these Sunday walks, their stern expression, their stiff walk. They moved slowly, with a serious expression, their bodies straight, their legs stiff, as if something of extreme importance depended upon their appearance.
    "Every Sunday, when the big steamers were returning from unknown and distant countries, my father would invariably utter the same words:
    "'What a surprise it would be if Jules were on that one! Eh?'


   
 "My Uncle Jules, my father’s brother, was the only hope of the family, after being its only fear. I had heard about him since childhood, and it seemed to me that I should recognize him immediately, knowing as much about him as I did. I knew every detail of his life up to the day of his departure for America, although this period of his life was spoken of only in hushed tones.
    "It seems that he had led a bad life, that is to say, he had squandered a little money, which action, in a poor family, is one of the greatest crimes. With rich people a man who amuses himself only sows his wild oats. He is what is generally called a sport.But among needy families a boy who forces his parents to break into the capital becomes a good-for-nothing, a rascal, a scamp. And this distinction is just, although the action be the same, for consequences alone determine the seriousness of the act.
  

"Well, Uncle Jules had visibly diminished the inheritance on which my father had counted, after he had swallowed his own to the last penny. Then, according to the custom of the times, he had been shipped off to America on a freighter going from Havre to New York.
    "Once there, my uncle began to sell something or other, and he soon wrote that he was making a little money and that he soon hoped to be able to indemnify my father for the harm he had done him. This letter caused a profound emotion in the family. Jules, who up to that time had not been worth his salt, suddenly became a good man, a kind-hearted fellow, true and honest like all the Davranches.
  
    "One of the captains told us that he had rented a large shop and was doing an important business.
    "Two years later a second letter came, saying: 'My dear Philippe, I am writing to tell you not to worry about my health, which is excellent. Business is good. I leave tomorrow for a long trip to South America. I may be away for several years without sending you any news. If I shouldn't write, don't worry. When my fortune is made I shall return to Havre. I hope that it will not be too long and that we shall all live happily together . . . .'

 
    "This letter became the gospel of the family. It was read on the slightest provocation, and it was shown to everybody.
    "For ten years nothing was heard from Uncle Jules; but as time went on my father’s hope grew, and my mother, also, often said:
    "'When that good Jules is here, our position will be different. There is one who knew how to get along!'

"And every Sunday, while watching the big steamers approaching from the horizon, pouring out a stream of smoke, my father would repeat his eternal question:
     "'What a surprise it would be if Jules were on that one! Eh?'
     "We almost expected to see him waving his handkerchief and crying:
     "'Hey! Philippe!'

    "Thousands of schemes had been planned on the strength of this expected return; we were even to buy a little house with my uncle’s money --a little place in the country near Ingouville. In fact, I wouldn't swear that my father had not already begun negotiations.
    "The elder of my sisters was then twenty-eight, the other twenty-six. They were not yet married, and that was a great grief to every one.
    "At last a suitor presented himself for the younger one. He was a clerk, not rich, but honorable. I have always been morally certain that Uncle Jules’ letter, which was shown him one evening, had swept away the young man’s hesitation and definitely decided him.
    "He was accepted eagerly, and it was decided that after the wedding the whole family should take a trip to Jersey.

    "Jersey is the ideal trip for poor people. It is not far; one crosses a strip of sea in a steamer and lands on foreign soil, as this little island belongs to England. Thus, a Frenchman, with a two hours’ sail, can observe a neighboring people at home and study their customs.
    "This trip to Jersey completely absorbed our ideas, was our sole anticipation, the constant thought of our minds.
   
     "At last we left. I see it as plainly as if it had happened yesterday. The boat was getting up steam against the quay at Granville; my father, bewildered, was superintending the loading of our three pieces of baggage; my mother, nervous, had taken the arm of my unmarried sister, who seemed lost since the departure of the other one, like the last chicken of a brood; behind us came the bride and groom, who always stayed behind, a thing that often made me turn round.
    "The whistle sounded. We got on board, and the vessel, leaving the breakwater, forged ahead through a sea as flat as a marble table. We watched the coast disappear in the distance, happy and proud, like all who do not travel much.
   
    "My father was swelling out his chest in the breeze, beneath his frock coat, which had that morning been very carefully cleaned; and he spread around him that odor of benzene which always made me recognize Sunday. Suddenly he noticed two elegantly dressed ladies to whom two gentlemen were offering oysters. An old, ragged sailor was opening them with his knife and passing them to the gentlemen, who would then offer them to the ladies. They ate them in a dainty manner, holding the shell on a fine handkerchief and advancing their mouths a little in order not to spot their dresses. Then they would drink the liquid with a rapid little motion and throw the shell overboard.
    "My father was probably pleased with this delicate manner of eating oysters on a moving ship. He considered it good form, refined, and, going up to my mother and sisters, he asked:
    "'Would you like me to offer you some oysters?'

     "My mother hesitated on account of the expense, but my two sisters immediately accepted. My mother said in a provoked manner:
    "'I am afraid that they will hurt my stomach. Offer the children some, but not too much, it would make them sick.'
    Then, turning toward me, she added:
    "'As for Joseph, he doesn't need any. Boys shouldn't be spoiled.'

    "However, I remained beside my mother, finding this discrimination unjust. I watched my father as he pompously conducted my two sisters and his son-in-law toward the ragged old sailor.
    "The two ladies had just left, and my father showed my sisters how to eat them without spilling the liquor. He even tried to give them an example, and seized an oyster. He attempted to imitate the ladies, and immediately spilled all the liquid over his coat. I heard my mother mutter:
    "'He would do far better to keep quiet.'

    "But, suddenly, my father appeared to be worried; he retreated a few steps, stared at his family gathered around the old shell opener, and quickly came toward us. He seemed very pale, with a peculiar look. In a low voice he said to my mother:
    "'It's extraordinary how that man opening the oysters looks like Jules.'
    "Astonished, my mother asked:
    "'What Jules?'
    "My father continued:
    "'Why, my brother. If I did not know that he was well off in America, I should think it was he.'
   

"Bewildered, my mother stammered:
    "'You are crazy! As long as you know that it is not he, why do you say such foolish things?'

"But my father insisted:
    "'Go on over and see, Clarisse! I would rather have you see with your own eyes.'

   

    "She arose and walked to her daughters. I, too, was watching the man. He was old, dirty, wrinkled, and did not lift his eyes from his work.
    "My mother returned. I noticed that she was trembling. She exclaimed quickly:
    "'I believe that it is he. Why don't you ask the captain? But be very careful that we don't have this rogue on our hands again!'
    "My father walked away, but I followed him. I felt strangely moved.

    "The captain, a tall, thin man, with blond whiskers, was walking along the bridge with an important air as if he were commanding the Indian mail steamer.
    "My father addressed him ceremoniously, and questioned him about his profession, adding many compliments:
    "'What might be the importance of Jersey? What did it produce? What was the population? The customs? The nature of the soil?' etc., etc.

    "'You have there an old shell opener who seems quite interesting. Do you know anything about him?'

   
   
   

    "The captain, whom this conversation began to weary, answered dryly:
    "'He is some old French tramp whom I found last year in America, and I brought him back.
    It seems that he has some relatives in Havre, but that he doesn't wish to return to them because he owes them money. His name is Jules--Jules Darmanche or Darvanche or something like that. It seems that he was once rich over there, but you can see what's left of him now.'
    "My father turned ashy pale and muttered, his throat contracted, his eyes haggard.
     "'Ah! ah! very well, very well. I'm not in the least surprised. Thank youvery much, captain.'

    "He went away, and the astonished sailor watched him disappear. He returned to my mother so upset that she said to him:
    "'Sit down; some one will notice that something is the matter.'
    "He sank down on a bench and stammered:
    "'It's he! It's he!'
    "Then he asked:
    "'What are we going to do?'
    "She answered quickly:
    "'We must get the children out of the way. Since Joseph knows everything, he can go and get them. We must take good care that our son-in-law doesn't find out.'
    "My father seemed absolutely bewildered. He murmured:
    "'What a catastrophe!'

    "Suddenly growing furious, my mother exclaimed:
    "'I always thought that that thief never would do anything, and that he would drop down on us again! As if one could expect anything from a Davranche!'
    "My father passed his hand over his forehead, as he always did when his wife reproached him. She added:
    "'Give Joseph some money so that he can pay for the oysters. All that it needed to cap the climax would be to be recognized by that beggar. That would be very pleasant! Let's get down to the other end of the boat, and take care that that man doesn't come near us!'
  
    "They gave me five francs and walked away.
    "Astonished, my sisters were awaiting their father. I said that mamma had felt a sudden attack of sea-sickness, and I asked the shell opener:
    "'How much do we owe you, monsieur?'
    "I felt like laughing: he was my uncle! He answered:
    "'Two francs fifty.'

   

    "I held out my five francs and he returned the change. I looked at his hand; it was a poor, wrinkled, sailor’s hand, and I looked at his face, an unhappy old face. I said to myself:
    "'That is my uncle, the brother of my father, my uncle!'
    "I gave him a ten-cent tip. He thanked me:
    "'God bless you, my young sir!'
    "He spoke like a poor man receiving alms. I couldn't help thinking that he must have begged over there! My sisters looked at me, surprised at my generosity.

     
     

     When I returned the two francs to my father, my mother asked me in surprise:
    "'Was there three francs’ worth? That is impossible.'
    "I answered in a firm voice,
    "'I gave ten cents as a tip.'
    "My mother started, and, staring at me, she exclaimed:
    "'You must be crazy! Give ten cents to that man, to that vagabond--'
    "She stopped at a look from my father, who was pointing at his son-in-law. Then everybody was silent.

 

     
     

      "Before us, on the distant horizon, a purple shadow seemed to rise out of the sea. It was Jersey.
    "As we approached the breakwater a violent desire seized me once more to see my Uncle Jules, to be near him, to say to him something consoling, something tender. But as no one was eating any more oysters, he had disappeared, having probably gone below to the dirty hold which was the home of the poor wretch."





 

 

一个白发苍苍的老头儿向我们乞求布施。我的同伴约瑟夫•达勿朗士给了他五个法郎。他注意到我吃惊的神色,于是对我说道:
      这个可怜的不幸的人使我想起了一个故事,它一直萦绕在我的脑际,让我无法释怀,现在就让我告诉你吧。
     
      我家原来住在哈佛尔,并不是富裕人家,刚刚能量入为出,勉强度日而已。我的父亲非常努力地工作,每天很晚才下班回家,可挣得却很少。我有两个姐姐。
我的母亲因为我们的落魄处境感到很痛苦,对父亲常常说一些尖刻的话——含蓄的、狡诈的指责。每当这时,这个可怜的人会做一个让我看了十分难受的手势。他会用张开的手摸一下额头,仿佛是要擦去那并不存在的汗液,而且总是一声不啃,任由母亲说去。我能感受到他的那种无可奈何的痛苦。我们一切都讲求节省,从来不接受赴宴的邀请,以免不得不回请人家;我们买的日用杂货全都是一些廉价出售的商品。我的姐姐们的长袍是她们自己做的,为了一条只值十五个生丁一码的饰带,也要谈上半天价钱。我们的膳食通常是汤和牛肉,配上各种沙司。他们说这既有益于健康又富有营养,不过我却宁愿吃点别的什么。
      我常常因为不小心弄丢了钮扣或者撕破了裤子遭受可怕的责骂。
      每个星期天,我们都会身着盛装到防波堤上去散步。我的父亲会披上礼服大衣,戴上高顶硬礼帽,套上羔皮手套,伸起胳膊给母亲挽着,母亲则会系上各种饰带,打扮得花花绿绿的,像一艘节日的舰船。我的姐姐们总是最先准备好,等候出发的指令,可是在最后一刻,总有人会在父亲的礼服大衣上发现一个污点,于是不得不急急忙忙用一块沾了汽油的破布擦掉它。
     父亲穿着衬衫,戴着缎面大礼帽,静候这道作业的完成,而母亲则一面戴上眼镜,一面脱下手套(以免将它弄脏),手忙脚乱地赶工。

然后我们就隆重地出发了。姐姐们挽着胳膊在前面齐步走着。她们都已经到了该结婚的年龄,必须出去抛头露脸、引人注目。我走在母亲的左边,父亲走在她的右边。我至今还记得我那可怜的父母在这些星期天散步中的傲慢神气,他们那严峻的表情和僵硬的步法。他们走得很慢,神情严肃,身体笔直,双腿僵硬,仿佛他们的仪容关系到某件极端重要的事情似的。
     每个星期天,看见那些从遥远而陌生的地方回来的大轮船,父亲总会一成不变地说出同样的话:
      “倘若于勒竟在那条船上,那该多么叫人惊喜啊!是不是?”
     
     
     

 

我的于勒叔叔,父亲的兄弟,当时是家里唯一的希望,之前则是全家的忧惧,自从童年时代起我就听说他的事情,我觉得我应该能立刻认出他来,因为我对他了解得那么多。他在动身去美洲那天之前生活的每个细节我都知道,尽管大家只是压低了声音说到他人生中的这个时期。
      他好像有一段时间曾经生活堕落,换句话说,他曾经挥霍了一点钱,在穷人家这要算是最大的罪孽了。在有钱的人家,一个寻欢作乐的人只不过是干点荒唐事,他通常会被大家称为"花花公子"。可是在贫困的家庭,倘若做儿子的逼得父母动了老本,他就成了一个废物,一个流氓,一个恶棍。然而这种分别是正当的,因为唯有后果才决定行为——尽管是完全相同的行为——的严重性。

总而言之,于勒叔叔在把属于自己的那部分遗产吃得精光后,还大大减少了我父亲指望得到的份额。然后,按照那个时代的习俗,他被送上了一艘从阿弗尔开往纽约的货轮,去了美洲。
      一到了那里,我的叔叔就开始贩卖不知什么东西,不久他写信来说自己赚了一些钱,希望很快就能补偿从前给我父亲造成的损失。这封信使我们全家深受感动,于勒,到那时为止一直吃白饭的于勒,一下子变成了一个好人,一个心地善良的人,像所有达勿朗士家的人一样忠诚而正直的人。

一位船长告诉我们说他租了一个很大的店铺,正做着大买卖。
      两年后他又来了第二封信,信上说:"我亲爱的菲利普,我给你写信是为了教你不要担心我的健康。我身体好极了。生意也很好。明天我就要动身去南美洲作长期的旅行了。也许会好几年都没有音信。倘若以后我真的不写信,你也不要担心。我发了财就会回到哈佛尔,希望这一天不会太久远,到时我们大家就可以幸福地生活在一起了……"

这封信成为了我们家的福音,一有机会就要拿出来读,见谁都要拿出来给他看。
      在长达十年的时间里,我们没有听到于勒叔叔的任何消息。可是随着时间的推移,父亲的希望却与日俱增,
      母亲也常常说:"倘若那好心的于勒回到了这里,我们的处境就会不同了。我们家就会有一个懂得怎样过好生活的人了。"

     
     
     

于是每个星期天,远远地望见大轮船喷着一缕黑烟从天边驶过来,父亲总会重复他那个永恒的问题:
      “倘若于勒竟在那条船上,那该多么叫人惊喜啊!是不是?”
      我们在期待中,几乎已经看见了他挥动着手帕高喊:
      "嗨!菲利普!"

基于叔叔这次预期中的归来,大家拟定了数千个计划,我们甚至将用叔叔的钱购买一栋小屋——那屋子在靠近因谷维勒的一个乡下小地方,实际上,我不敢断言父亲是不是已经开始了洽谈。
      我年长的那个姐姐那时二十八岁,另一个二十六岁。她们还没有结婚,这是让所有人都发愁的事。
      终于有一个二姐的追求者出现了。他是一个小职员,并不富有,但却很正派。
      我一直深信不疑,是于勒叔叔的那封信(有一天晚上我们拿出来给他看了)打消了这个年轻人的顾虑,使他不再犹豫,下定决心求婚。
      父母急不可耐地接受了他,并且决定全家在婚礼结束后到泽西岛去旅行。

对贫穷的人们来说,泽西岛是最理想的旅游胜地。它并不遥远,你只要坐轮船渡过一片海域,就踏上了外国的土地,因为这个小岛是属于英国的。这样一来,一个法国人只要经过两个小时的航行,就可以观察一个邻近的民族,研究他们的风俗习惯。
      这次去泽西岛的旅行完全占据了我们的头脑,它是我们唯一的期盼,和时时刻刻的想念。

我们终于出发了,我现在还清楚地记得当时的情景,仿佛是昨天才发生的事。轮船在格兰维勒码头冒着蒸汽,我的父亲带着一脸迷惑的神色,监督着我们那三件行李装载上船。母亲则紧张不安地挽着我那个没有结婚的姐姐的胳膊,自从另一个姐姐出嫁后,她仿佛丢了魂似的茫然不知所措,就像一窝雏鸡中最后剩下的一只小鸡。跟在我们后面的是新娘和新郎,他们总是落在后面,弄得我常常转过身去看。
      汽笛响了,我们上了船,船离开防波堤,在平坦得如同大理石桌面一般的海面上徐徐前行。我们看着在远处渐渐消失的海岸线,既高兴又骄傲,就像所有不常旅行的人一样。

父亲挺着胸膛站在微风中,他的礼服大衣那天早晨刚被非常仔细地清洁过,所以在他的周围散发着一股苯的气味——它总是让我明白无误地意识到星期天的来临。父亲突然注意到两位穿着考究的太太,两位绅士正在请她们吃牡蛎。一个衣衫褴褛的老水手先用刀撬开牡蛎,递给这两位绅士,然后他们又递给两位太太。她们的吃法很优雅,用一方精美的手帕捏住壳,头稍向前伸,以免玷污衣服;然后嘴巴迅速地微微一动,就喝下了牡蛎的汁液,再把壳扔到海里。
      父亲大概迷上了这种在运动的船上吃牡蛎的优美方式,他认为这是正确的姿势,优雅之极,于是他走到我母亲和两个姐姐跟前问道:
      "你们想不想我请你们吃牡蛎啊?"

母亲因为怕花费大而犹豫不决,但是我的两个姐姐立刻接受了父亲的提议。母亲于是有点恼火地说:
      "我怕它们会弄坏我的肚子,给孩子们吃一些吧,但别太多了,吃多了容易得病。"
      然后她转向我,补充说:
      "至于约瑟夫,他就不需要了,男孩子是不应该宠坏的。"
 

我只好留在母亲身边,一面觉得这种性别歧视很不公平,一面看着父亲郑重其事地带领着两个女儿和女婿向衣服褴褛的老水手走去。
      那两位太太刚刚离开,父亲于是就教姐姐们怎样吃才不会让汁液洒出来;他甚至试图给她们做一个示范,于是就抓住了一个牡蛎,尝试着想模仿那两位太太,却立刻将汁液全都溅到了自己的外套上,我听见母亲嘀咕:
      “哎,他要是不说话就好了。”

可是,父亲突然好像不安起来,他倒退了几步,瞪眼看着聚集在剥蚝者周围的家人,然后迅速向我们走来。他的脸色显得十分苍白,而且眼神也很古怪。他低声对我母亲说道:
      "真是离奇得很!那个剥牡蛎的人长得怎么这么像于勒?"
      母亲惊诧地问道:
      "哪个于勒?"
      父亲回答道:
      "哎呀!我的弟弟呀。假如我不知道他正在美洲过着好日子,我真会以为就是他呢。"

母亲也被搞懵了,结结巴巴地说:
      "你疯了!你明明知道不是他,为什么还说出这种蠢话?"
      可是父亲坚持说:
      "克拉丽丝,你过去看看吧!我想还是你亲眼看一下比较好。"
    

 母亲于是站起来,朝她的女儿们走去了。我也在观察那个人。他又老又脏,皮肤皱巴巴的,一心只顾低头干他的活儿,连眼睛也不抬一下。
      母亲回来了,我觉察到她在颤抖。她惊叫道:
      “我相信就是他。你为什么不问一下船长呢?可是要多加小心,不能让那个流氓再来吃咱们!”
      父亲走开了。我跟在他的后面,心里感到异常激动。

船长是一个高大瘦削的人,蓄着棕黄色的腮须,此刻正带着傲慢的神气在舰桥上散步,仿佛他指挥的是一艘印度公司邮船。
     父亲上去客客气气地和他搭话,询问有关他的职业方面的事情,同时不忘加上许多恭维:
      倒如泽西岛的重要性到底何在,出产什么物品,人口多少,风俗习惯怎样,还有土壤的性质如何等等,等等。
      最后父亲终于说道:"您船上有一个剥牡蛎的老家伙似乎很有趣。您了解一点关于他的情况吗?"
 

这番谈话显然已经使船长开始厌烦了,他冷冷地回答说:
      "他是个法国老流浪汉,去年我在美洲碰到了他,就把他带回来了。
      他好像在哈佛尔有一些亲戚,但他不愿意回到他们那儿去,因为他欠他们钱。他的名字叫于勒——姓达尔芒司,或者是达尔汪司什么的。他好像曾经在那边阔绰过一段时间,可是你看他现在这样子!"
      父亲脸如土灰,两眼呆直,哑着嗓子说:
      "啊!啊!是这样……是这样……我一点也不感到惊讶。多谢了,船长。"
     
     

然后他就转身走开了,惊诧的船长目送着他离去。父亲回到母亲身边时是如此心烦意乱,以至于母亲对他说道:
      "你先坐下,别叫人看出来。"
      父亲一屁股瘫倒在长凳上,结结巴巴地说:
      "是他!真是他!"
      然后他问道:
      "我们该怎么办?"
      母亲马上回答道:
      “必须把孩子们领开。约瑟夫既然已经知道了,可以叫他去把他们带回来。我们一定要多加小心,绝不能让咱们的女婿发现真相。"
      父亲好像完全被搞糊涂了,低声嘟哝着说:
      "触大霉头了!"

母亲突然暴怒起来,大叫道:
      "我早认定那个窃贼干不成任何事情,早晚会回来重新拖累咱们!达勿朗士家的人没一个有出息!
      父亲又用手摸了一下额头,如母亲指责他时一贯所做的那样。母亲又说道:
      “给约瑟夫一些钱,叫他去把牡蛎钱付掉。所幸那个乞丐没有认出咱们来,要不然就有好戏看了。我们到船的另一头去吧,可是要当心,别让那个人靠近我们!”
      他们给了我五个法郎后就走开了。
      我的姐姐们在惊愕中等候着父亲。我说母亲突然感到有点晕船,然后问那个剥牡蛎的:
      "我们应该给您多少钱,先生?"
      我真想笑,他竟然是我的叔叔!
      "两法郎五十生丁,"他回答说。
     
     

我递过去我那五个法郎,他找给了我零钱。我看着他的手,这是一只满是皱纹、可怜的水手的手。我又看了看他的脸,一张苍老而悲戚的脸。我心里默念道:
      "这是我的叔叔,我父亲的弟弟,我的亲叔叔!"
      我给了他十分钱的小费。他连忙感谢我:
      "愿上帝保佑你,年轻的先生!"
      他说话的腔调就像一个接受布施的穷人,这让我不禁想到,他一定曾在那边乞讨过!我的姐姐们看着我,对我的慷慨感到诧异。

当我把剩下的两个法郎归还给父亲时,母亲惊讶地问道:
      “吃了三个法郎吗?这是不可能的。”
      我用坚定的声音回答说:
      “我给了他十分钱作为小费。”
      母亲惊跳起来,她眼睛直直地盯着我,大声叫道:
      “你一定是疯了!竟然拿十分钱给那个人,那个流浪汉……”
      她突然住口了,因为父亲指着他的女婿向她使了一个眼色,接着大家全都沉默了。
 

在我们的前方,遥远的地平线上,依稀有一个紫色的阴影升出了海面,那就是泽西岛。
     当我们靠近防波堤时,我心里有一种强烈的愿望想再看一眼我的于勒叔叔,想挨近他,跟他说几句安慰的话,温柔的话。但是,因为没有人再要吃牡蛎了,他早已消失得无影无踪,也许已经回到下面那肮脏的货舱——这个可怜的苦命人的窝了。


   






 

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       分类:              国芳多语对照文库 >> 语-英语-汉语 >> 莫泊桑 >> 短篇小说      
    Categories:  Xie's Multilingual Corpus >> French-English-Chinese >> Maupassant  >>  Short Novel                                                  
    

 



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