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首页 » 双语小说 » 丧钟为谁而鸣 For Whom the Bell TollS » Chapter 7
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Chapter 7

 He was asleep in the robe and he had been asleep, he thought, for a long time. The robe was spread on the forest floor in the lee of the rocks beyond the cave mouth and as he slept, he turned, and turning rolled on his pistol which was fastened by a lanyard to one wrist and had been by his side under the cover when he went to sleep, shoulder and back weary, leg-tired, his muscles pulled with tiredness so that the ground was soft, and simply stretching in the robe against the flannel lining was voluptuous with fatigue. Waking, he wondered where he was, knew, and then shifted the pistol from under his side and settled happily to stretch back into sleep, his hand on the pillow of his clothing that was bundled neatly around his rope-soled shoes. He had one arm around the pillow.
 Then he felt her hand on his shoulder and turned quickly, his right hand holding the pistol under the robe.
 "Oh, it is thee," he said and dropping the pistol he reached both arms up and pulled her down. With his arms around her he could feel her shivering.
 "Get in," he said softly. "It is cold out there."
 "No. I must not."
 "Get in," he said. "And we can talk about it later."
 She was trembling and he held her wrist now with one hand and held her lightly with the other arm. She had turned her head away.
 "Get in, little rabbit," he said and kissed her on the back of the neck.
 "I am afraid."
 "No. Do not be afraid. Get in."
 "How?"
 "Just slip in. There is much room. Do you want me to help you?"
 "No," she said and then she was in the robe and he was holding her tight to him and trying to kiss her lips and she was pressing her face against the pillow of clothing but holding her arms close around his neck. Then he felt her arms relax and she was shivering again as he held her.
 "No," he said and laughed. "Do not be afraid. That is the pistol."
 He lifted it and slipped it behind him.
 "I am ashamed," she said, her face away from him.
 "No. You must not be. Here. Now."
 "No, I must not. I am ashamed and frightened."
 "No. My rabbit. Please."
 "I must not. If thou dost not love me."
 "I love thee."
 "I love thee. Oh, I love thee. Put thy hand on my head," she said away from him, her face still in the pillow. He put his hand on her head and stroked it and then suddenly her face was away from the pillow and she was in his arms, pressed close against him, and her face was against his and she was crying.
 He held her still and close, feeling the long length of the young body, and he stroked her head and kissed the wet saltiness of her eyes, and as she cried he could feel the rounded, firm-pointed breasts touching through the shirt she wore.
 "I cannot kiss," she said. "I do not know how."
 "There is no need to kiss."
 "Yes. I must kiss. I must do everything."
 "There is no need to do anything. We are all right. But thou hast many clothes."
 "What should I do?"
 "I will help you."
 "Is that better?"
 "Yes. Much. It is not better to thee?"
 "Yes. Much better. And I can go with thee as Pilar said?"
 "Yes."
 "But not to a home. With thee."
 "No, to a home."
 "No. No. No. With thee and I will be thy woman."
 Now as they lay all that before had been shielded was unshielded. Where there had been roughness of fabric all was smooth with a smoothness and firm rounded pressing and a long warm coolness, cool outside and warm within, long and light and closely holding, closely held, lonely, hollow-making with contours, happymaking, young and loving and now all warmly smooth with a hollowing, chest-aching, tight-held loneliness that was such that Robert Jordan felt he could not stand it and he said, "Hast thou loved others?"
 "Never."
 Then suddenly, going dead in his arms, "But things were done to me."
 "By whom?"
 "By various."
 Now she lay perfectly quietly and as though her body were dead and turned her head away from him.
 "Now you will not love me."
 "I love you," he said.
 But something had happened to him and she knew it.
 "No," she said and her voice had gone dead and flat. "Thou wilt not love me. But perhaps thou wilt take me to the home. And I will go to the home and I will never be thy woman nor anything."
 "I love thee, Maria."
 "No. It is not true," she said. Then as a last thing pitifully and hopefully.
 "But I have never kissed any man."
 "Then kiss me now."
 "I wanted to," she said. "But I know not how. Where things were done to me I fought until I could not see. I fought until-- until--until one sat upon my head--and I bit him--and then they tied my mouth and held my arms behind my head--and others did things to me."
 "I love thee, Maria," he said. "And no one has done anything to thee. Thee, they cannot touch. No one has touched thee, little rabbit."
 "You believe that?"
 "I know it."
 "And you can love me?" warm again against him now.
 "I can love thee more."
 "I will try to kiss thee very well."
 "Kiss me a little."
 "I do not know how."
 "Just kiss me."
 She kissed him on the cheek.
 "No."
 "Where do the noses go? I always wondered where the noses would go."
 "Look, turn thy head," and then their mouths were tight together and she lay close pressed against him and her mouth opened a little gradually and then, suddenly, holding her against him, he was happier than he had ever been, lightly, lovingly, exultingly, innerly happy and unthinking and untired and unworried and only feeling a great delight and he said, "My little rabbit. My darling. My sweet. My long lovely."
 "What do you say?" she said as though from a great distance away.
 "My lovely one," he said.
 They lay there and he felt her heart beating against his and with the side of his foot he stroked very lightly against the side of hers.
 "Thee came barefooted," he said.
 "Yes."
 "Then thee knew thou wert coming to the bed."
 "Yes."
 "And you had no fear."
 "Yes. Much. But more fear of how it would be to take my shoes off."
 "And what time is it now? _lo sabes?_"
 "No. Thou hast no watch?"
 "Yes. But it is behind thy back."
 "Take it from there."
 "No."
 "Then look over my shoulder."
 It was one o'clock. The dial showed bright in the darkness that the robe made.
 "Thy chin scratches my shoulder."
 "Pardon it. I have no tools to shave."
 "I like it. Is thy beard blond?"
 "Yes."
 "And will it be long?"
 "Not before the bridge. Maria, listen. Dost thou--?"
 "Do I what?"
 "Dost thou wish?"
 "Yes. Everything. Please. And if we do everything together, the other maybe never will have been."
 "Did you think of that?"
 "No. I think it in myself but Pilar told me."
 "She is very wise."
 "And another thing," Maria said softly. "She said for me to tell you that I am not sick. She knows about such things and she said to tell you that."
 "She told you to tell me?"
 "Yes. I spoke to her and told her that I love you. I loved you when I saw you today and I loved you always but I never saw you before and I told Pilar and she said if I ever told you anything about anything, to tell you that I was not sick. The other thing she told me long ago. Soon after the train."
 "What did she say?"
 "She said that nothing is done to oneself that one does not accept and that if I loved some one it would take it all away. I wished to die, you see."
 "What she said is true."
 "And now I am happy that I did not die. I am so happy that I did not die. And you can love me?"
 "Yes. I love you now."
 "And I can be thy woman?"
 "I cannot have a woman doing what I ao. But thou art my woman now."
 "If once I am, then I will keep on. Am I thy woman now?"
 "Yes, Maria. Yes, my little rabbit."
 She held herself tight to him and her lips looked for his and then found them and were against them and he felt her, fresh, new and smooth and young and lovely with the warm, scalding coolness and unbelievable to be there in the robe that was as familiar as his clothes, or his shoes, or his duty and then she said, frightenedly, "And now let us do quickly what it is we do so that the other is all gone."
 "You want?"
 "Yes," she said almost fiercely. "Yes. Yes. Yes."

  他躺在睡袋里。他想。”我已入睡了狠久啦。睡袋铺在树林中的地上,在山洞口一边岩石的背风处;他睡眠中翻过身来,压在手枪上,这手枪的带子系在一只手腕上,是临睡前放在身边的。他当时觉得睡酸背痛,两腿乏力,肌肉由于疲劳而有点僅硬,所以感到地面很柔软,疲乏的身子在有法兰绒衬里的睡袋中舒展一下,使他觉得十分舒适。他醒来时恍恍惚坶,不知道自己在什么地方,过后才明白过来,就挪开身体底下的手枪,满意地伸伸胳膊和腿,又入睡了,一只手放在用衣服整齐地卷住绳底鞋做成的枕头上,一条胳臂搂着这个枕头。

  随后,他觉得有只手按到自己肩上,立即翻过身来,右手握住遍袋里的手枪。

  “嗅,原来是你,”他说着放下手枪,伸出双臂把她朝下拉。他抱住她时,感觉到她在发抖。

  “进来吧,”他轻柔地说。〃外面很冷。“”不。不行。“

  “进来吧,”他说。“我们等会儿再谈吧。她索索发抖;他一手握住她的手腌,另一条胳臂轻轻地楼住她 她扭过头去了。

  “来吧,小兔子。“他说,吻着她的后颈,“我怕。”

  “别。别怕。进来吧。”〃怎样进来啊?”

  “钻进来就是。里面有地方。要我帮你吗?”“不。”她说着就钻进了睡袋,他把她紧紧貼着自己,想吻她的嘴唇,她呢,把脸伏在用衣服卷成的枕头上,但双臂紧搂着他的脖子。接着,他感到她的手臂松开了,他伸手拥抱她,她又哆嗦起来。

  “别这样,他说着笑了。“别怕。那是手枪。”他拿起手枪,推到自己背后。“我寄臊。”她说,脸朝着别处。“不,没有必要。好。来吧。”“不,我不能。我害臊,我怕。”
  “别。我的兔子。请不要见怪。““不行。假如你不爱我呢。”“我爱你。”

  “我爱你。啊,我爱你。把手放在我头上。”她朝着别处说,脸仍伏在枕上。他把手放在她头上抚摸着,接着,她突然从枕头上转过脸,偎在他怀里,紧挨着他,脸贴着他的脸,哭了。

  他静静地、紧紧地抱着她,抚摸着她那颀长而年青的身体,抚換着她的头,吻着她那润湿而带咸味的眼睛;她哭着,他感到她衬衫里面那对圆圆的、隆起的、坚实的乳房在颤抖一“我不会接吻,”她说。“我不知道怎么接。”“不一定要接吻。”

  “不。我一定要。该做的我都得做。”“没有必要做什么嘛。我们现在很好。不过你的衣服多了。“

  “我该怎么办。“

  “我来帮你。“

  “这样是不是好些了?”

  “好。好多了。你是不是也觉得好些?”

  “好。好多了。我可以象比拉尔说的那样跟你走吗?〃

  “可以。”

  “可是不去养育院。我要跟你在一起。”“不,要去养育院。”

  “不。不,不。我要跟你在一起,我要做你的女人。”他俩这样躺着,原先遮蔽的,现在全裸露了 原先是粗糙的衣服,现在全是润滑的肌肤,润滑、坚实、圆鼓鼓地紧挨着,长久的温暌的凉意,外面凉而里面暖。长久、轻快而紧密的拥抱,落莫空虚却又轮廓分明,青春可爱而使人心醉神移,现在都是温蓽润滑,绐人一种空虚、胸口隐隐作痛、紧密拥抱的落莫之感,这一切如此强烈,以至罗伯特 乔丹觉得再也忍不住了,他说,“你爱过别人吗?”“从来没有。“

  这时,她在他怀里突然象死去了一般,“可是人家糟蹋过我。”

  “好几个。“

  她这时躺着动也不动,仿佛她的躯体巳经死去;她的脸转向别处。

  “你现在不会爱我了。”

  “我爱你,”他说。

  但是他有了变化,她感觉得到。

  “不,”她说,声音变得呆板而没生气。“你不会爱我了。不过你也许会带我去养育院的。我去养育院,永远不可能做你的女人,什么也不是了。““我爱你,玛丽亚。“

  “不。不是真的,”她说。接着,作为最后的努力,她可怜巴巴但仍怀着希望地说。”

  “可是我从没吻过任何人。”〃那么现在吻我吧。”  

  “我要吻,”她说。“可我不会 当初他们糟蹋我的时候,我拼命挣扎,直到我什么都看不见。我挣扎到一到一直到有个人坐在我头上一我就咬他一后来他们蒙住我的嘴,把我两手反捆在脑后一,别人就糟蹋我。”

  “我爱你,玛丽亚,”他说。“谁也没能把你怎么样。他们碰不了你,谁也没碰过你,小兔子。““你相信是那样吗?。“我知道。“

  “那么你会爱我吗?”这时又热烈地紧挨着他了。

  “我会更爱你。”

  “我要好好吻你。”

  “吻我一下吧。”

  “我不会。”

  “吻我就是了。”  

  她吻他的脸颊。

  “不。”

  “鼻子怎么办?我老是不知道鼻子往哪里搁。”“瞧,把头偏一点,他俩的嘴就紧貼在一起了。她紧挨在他身上,她的嘴悝悝地张开了一点,他拥抱着她,突然感到从来也没有过的喜悦,轻柔、亲切、欢欣、内心的喜悦,无忧无虑,不再疲倦,不再担心,只感到无比的喜悦,于是他说,“我的小兔子。我的好宝贝。我的小亲亲。我的长身玉立的美人儿。“你说什么?〃她说,那声音好象来自遥远的地方 “我可爱的人儿。”他说 

  他俩躺在那儿,他感到她的心顶着自己的心在。。动,他用他的脚轻轻地擦着她的脚。“你光着脚来的。”他说。

  “是的。”

  “那你是存心来睡觉的啦。”“对。“
  “那你当时不害怡。”

  “怕。很怕。不过更怕穿了鞋再脱。

  “现在什么时候了?你知道吗?”

  “不知道。你没表?”

  “有。在你身背后。”

  “把它拿过来吧。”

  “不。”

  “那么隔着我的肩膀看吧。”

  在黑暗的睡袋中,表面显得很亮。已经一点了。

  “你的下巴扎得我的肩膀好痛

  “对不起。我没刮脸的家伙。“

  “我喜欢。你的胡于是金黄色的?”

  “是的。“

  “会长得很长吗。“

  “炸桥之前不会很长。听着,玛丽亚。你一?”“我怎么?”“你想吗?”

  “想。怎么都行。随你。要是我们一起把什么都干了,也许那件事就象没有发生过一样。“你这样想过吗。“

  ”不。我有过这祥的念头,讲出来的却是比拉尔?“她非常聪明。”

  “还有一件事,”玛丽亚温柔地说。“她要我告诉你,说我没有病。这种事她懂,她要我告诉你。”“是她要你告诉我的?”

  “是呀。我对她谈了,告诉她说我爱你。今天一见到你,我
就爱你了。仿佛我早就爱着你了,可是从没见到过你。我就告诉了比拉尔,妯叫我要把所有的事全告诉你,还告诉你我没病,那件事是她很久以前对我说的。在炸火车之后不久。”“她说了什么?”

  “她说。”一个人只要不愿意,人家就不能拿她怎么样,还说要是我爱上了一个人,就能把过去的全部抹掉。那时我想死,你知道。”

  “她讲的话很对。”

  “我现在真高兴,那时没有死掉。我真高兴,那时没死。那么你爱我吗?”

  “爱。我现在就爱你。”“我可以做你的女人吗? 

  “干我这一行的,不能有女人。不过,你现在就是我的女人。”

  “我一做了你的女人,就永远是你的了。我现在是你的女人吗?”

  “是的,玛丽亚。”是的,小兔子。”

  她紧紧地抱着他,嘴唇寻找着他的嘴唇,接着找到了,就紧吻着,他呢,觉得她娇嫩、润滑、年青、可爱,而又带着热烈得发烫的凉爽,躺在那象他的衣服、鞋子或他的任务一样熟悉的睡袋里,简直难以相信。她惊慌地说,“我们要做的事现在快做吧,把那回事全抹去吧。”“你要?”

  “要,”她简直狂热地说。“要。要。要。“



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