Now in the night he lay and waited for the girl to come to him. There was no wind now and the pines were still in the night. The trunks of the pines projected from the snow that covered all the ground, and he lay in the robe feeling the suppleness1 of the bed under him that he had made, his legs stretched long against the warmth of the robe, the air sharp and cold on his head and in his nostrils2 as he breathed. Under his head, as he lay on his side, was the bulge3 of the trousers and the coat that he had wrapped around his shoes to make a pillow and against his side was the cold metal of the big automatic pistol he had taken from the holster when he undressed and fastened by its lanyard to his right wrist. He pushed the pistol away and settled deeper into the robe as he watched, across the snow, the dark break in the rocks that was the entrance to the cave. The sky was clear and there was enough light reflected from the snow to see the trunks of the trees and the bulk of the rocks where the cave was.
Earlier in the evening he had taken the ax and gone outside of the cave and walked through the new snow to the edge of the clearing and cut down a small spruce tree. In the dark he had dragged it, butt4 first, to the lee of the rock wall. There close to the rock, he had held the tree upright, holding the trunk firm with one hand, and, holding the ax-haft close to the head had lopped off all the boughs6 until he had a pile of them. Then, leaving the pile of boughs, he had laid the bare pole of the trunk down in the snow and gone into the cave to get a slab7 of wood he had seen against the wall. With this slab he scraped the ground clear of the snow along the rock wall and then picked up his boughs and shaking them clean of snow laid them in rows, like overlapping8 plumes9, until he had a bed. He put the pole across the foot of the bough5 bed to hold the branches in place and pegged10 it firm with two pointed11 pieces of wood he split from the edge of the slab.
Then he carried the slab and the ax back into the cave, ducking under the blanket as he came in, and leaned them both against the wall.
"What do you do outside?" Pilar had asked.
"I made a bed."
"Don't cut pieces from my new shelf for thy bed."
"I am sorry."
"It has no importance," she said. "There are more slabs12 at the sawmill. What sort of bed hast thou made?"
"As in my country."
"Then sleep well on it," she had said and Robert Jordan had opened one of the packs and pulled the robe out and replaced those things wrapped in it back in the pack and carried the robe out, ducking under the blanket again, and spread it over the boughs so that the closed end of the robe was against the pole that was pegged cross-wise at the foot of the bed. The open head of the robe was protected by the rock wall of the cliff. Then he went back into the cave for his packs but Pilar said, "They can sleep with me as last night."
"Will you not have sentries13?" he asked. "The night is clear and the storm is over."
"Fernando goes," Pilar said.
Maria was in the back of the cave and Robert Jordan could not see her.
"Good night to every one," he had said. "I am going to sleep."
Of the others, who were laying out blankets and bedrolls on the floor in front of the cooking fire, pushing back the slab tables and the rawhide-covered stools to make sleeping space, Primitivo and Andr廥 looked up and said, "_Buenas noches_."
Anselmo was already asleep in a corner, rolled in his blanket and his cape14, not even his nose showing. Pablo was asleep in his chair.
"Do you want a sheep hide for thy bed?" Pilar asked Robert Jordan softly.
"Nay," he said. "Thank thee. I do not need it."
"Sleep well," she said. "I will respond for thy material."
Fernando had gone out with him and stood a moment where Robert Jordan had spread the sleeping robe.
"You have a curious idea to sleep in the open, Don Roberto," he said standing15 there in the dark, muffled16 in his blanket cape, his carbine slung17 over his shoulder.
"I am accustomed to it. Good night."
"Since you are accustomed to it."
"When are you relieved?"
"At four."
"There is much cold between now and then."
"I am accustomed to it," Fernando said.
"Since, then, you are accustomed to it--" Robert Jordan said politely.
"Yes," Fernando agreed. "Now I must get up there. Good night, Don Roberto."
"Good night, Fernando."
Then he had made a pillow of the things he took off and gotten into the robe and then lain and waited, feeling the spring of the boughs under the flannelly, feathered lightness of the robe warmth, watching the mouth of the cave across the snow; feeling his heart beat as he waited.
The night was clear and his head felt as clear and cold as the air. He smelled the odor of the pine boughs under him, the piney smell of the crushed needles and the sharper odor of the resinous18 sap from the cut limbs. Pilar, he thought. Pilar and the smell of death. This is the smell I love. This and fresh-cut clover, the crushed sage19 as you ride after cattle, wood-smoke and the burning leaves of autumn. That must be the odor of nostalgia20, the smell of the smoke from the piles of raked leaves burning in the streets in the fall in Missoula. Which would you rather smell? Sweet grass the Indians used in their baskets? Smoked leather? The odor of the ground in the spring after rain? The smell of the sea as you walk through the gorse on a headland in Galicia? Or the wind from the land as you come in toward Cuba in the dark? That was the odor of the cactus21 flowers, mimosa and the sea-grape shrubs22. Or would you rather smell frying bacon in the morning when you are hungry? Or coffee in the morning? Or a Jonathan apple as you bit into it? Or a cider mill in the grinding, or bread fresh from the oven? You must be hungry, he thought, and he lay on his side and watched the entrance of the cave in the light that the stars reflected from the snow.
Some one came out from under the blanket and he could see whoever it was standing by the break in the rock that made the entrance. Then he heard a slithering sound in the snow and then whoever it was ducked down and went back in.
I suppose she won't come until they are all asleep, he thought. It is a waste of time. The night is half gone. Oh, Maria. Come now quickly, Maria, for there is little time. He heard the soft sound of snow falling from a branch onto the snow on the ground. A little wind was rising. He felt it on his face. Suddenly he felt a panic that she might not come. The wind rising now reminded him how soon it would be morning. More snow fell from the branches as he heard the wind now moving the pine tops.
Come now, Maria. Please come here now quickly, he thought. Oh, come here now. Do not wait. There is no importance any more to your waiting until they are asleep.
Then he saw her coming out from under the blanket that covered the cave mouth. She stood there a moment and he knew it was she but he could not see what she was doing. He whistled a low whistle and she was still at the cave mouth doing something in the darkness of the rock shadow. Then she came running, carrying something in her hands and he saw her running long-legged through the snow. Then she was kneeling by the robe, her head pushed hard against him, slapping snow from her feet. She kissed him and handed him her bundle.
"Put it with thy pillow," she said. "I took these off there to save time."
"You came barefoot through the snow?"
"Yes," she said, "and wearing only my wedding shirt."
He held her close and tight in his arms and she rubbed her head against his chin.
"Avoid the feet," she said. "They are very cold, Roberto."
"Put them here and warm them."
"Nay," she said. "They will warm quickly. But say quickly now that you love me."
"I love thee."
"Good. Good. Good."
"I love thee, little rabbit."
"Do you love my wedding shirt?"
"It is the same one as always."
"Yes. As last night. It is my wedding shirt."
"Put thy feet here."
"Nay, that would be abusive. They will warm of themselves. They are warm to me. It is only that the snow has made them cold toward thee. Say it again."
"I love thee, my little rabbit."
"I love thee, too, and I am thy wife."
"Were they asleep?"
"No," she said. "But I could support it no longer. And what importance has it?"
"None," he said, and felt her against him, slim and long and warmly lovely. "No other thing has importance."
"Put thy hand on my head," she said, "and then let me see if I can kiss thee.
"Was it well?" she asked.
"Yes," he said. "Take off thy wedding shirt."
"You think I should?"
"Yes, if thou wilt23 not be cold."
"_Qu?va_, cold. I am on fire."
"I, too. But afterwards thou wilt not be cold?"
"No. Afterwards we will be as one animal of the forest and be so close that neither one can tell that one of us is one and not the other. Can you not feel my heart be your heart?"
"Yes. There is no difference."
"Now, feel. I am thee and thou art me and all of one is the other. And I love thee, oh, I love thee so. Are you not truly one? Canst thou not feel it?"
"Yes," he said. "It is true."
"And feel now. Thou hast no heart but mine."
"Nor any other legs, nor feet, nor of the body."
"But we are different," she said. "I would have us exactly the same."
"You do not mean that."
"Yes I do. I do. That is a thing I had to tell thee."
"You do not mean that."
"Perhaps I do not," she said speaking softly with her lips against his shoulder. "But I wished to say it. Since we are different I am glad that thou art Roberto and I Maria. But if thou should ever wish to change I would be glad to change. I would be thee because I love thee so."
"I do not wish to change. It is better to be one and each one to be the one he is."
"But we will be one now and there will never be a separate one." Then she said, "I will be thee when thou are not there. Oh, I love thee so and I must care well for thee."
"Maria."
"Yes."
"Maria."
"Yes."
"Maria."
"Oh, yes. Please."
"Art thou not cold?"
"Oh, no. Pull the robe over thy shoulders."
"Maria."
"I cannot speak."
"Oh, Maria. Maria. Maria."
Then afterwards, close, with the night cold outside, in the long warmth of the robe, her head touching24 his cheek, she lay quiet and happy against him and then said softly, "And thou?"
"_Como tu_," he said.
"Yes," she said. "But it was not as this afternoon."
"No."
"But I loved it more. One does not need to die."
"_Ojala no_," he said. "I hope not."
"I did not mean that."
"I know. I know what thou meanest. We mean the same."
"Then why did you say that instead of what I meant?"
"With a man there is a difference."
"Then I am glad that we are different."
"And so am I," he said. "But I understood about the dying. I only spoke25 thus, as a man, from habit. I feel the same as thee."
"However thou art and however thou speakest is how I would have thee be."
"And I love thee and I love thy name, Maria."
"It is a common name."
"No," he said. "It is not common."
"Now should we sleep?" she said. "I could sleep easily."
"Let us sleep," he said, and he felt the long light body, warm against him, comforting against him, abolishing loneliness against him, magically, by a simple touching of flanks, of shoulders and of feet, making an alliance against death with him, and he said, "Sleep well, little long rabbit."
She said, "I am asleep already."
"I am going to sleep," he said. "Sleep well, beloved." Then he was asleep and happy as he slept.
But in the night he woke and held her tight as though she were all of life and it was being taken from him. He held her feeling she was all of life there was and it was true. But she was sleeping well and soundly and she did not wake. So he rolled away onto his side and pulled the robe over her head and kissed her once on her neck under the robe and then pulled the pistol lanyard up and put the pistol by his side where he could reach it handily and then he lay there in the night thinking.
他如今躺在黑夜里，等着姑娘到他这儿来。这时风已停息，松树在夜色中悄然无声。松树千兀立在盖满雪的地上，他躺在睡袋里，感到身体底下他铺的东西软绵绵的,两腿直伸在暖和的睡袋里，脸上接触到的和吸进鼻子的空气冷得刺人。他侧身躺着，头下是他用裤子和外衣卷在鞋子外面做成的圆鼓鼓的枕头。他脱衣时从枪套里取出大自动手枪，把手枪带系在右手腌上，这时感到那冷冰冰的枪身贴在腰的一侧。他推开手枪，身体更往睡袋里缩下一些，同时望着雪地对面山岩上的黑色缺口，那就是山涧的洞口。天空晴韌，借着雪光的反射可以看清山洞两旁的树干和大块山岩。
临近黄昏的时候，他曾拿了一把斧头，走出山洞，踏过新下的雪，来到林间空地边缘，砍下一棵小云杉。他在黑暗中握着树的根端，把它拖到山崖的背风处。他挨近山崖，一手把稳树千，把树竖直，一手握住斧头柄靠近斧头的地方，砍下了所有的枝丫，聚成一堆。然后，他把光树干放在雪地里,离开那堆枝丫，走进山洞去拿一块他早先见到靠在洞壁上的厚木板。他用这木板沿着山崖把 块地上的雪全刮开，然后拣起树枝，抖掉上面的雪，一行行地排列在地面上，就象鸟身上迭盖着的羽毛那样,直到做成一张床铺。他把树干横在这些树枝做成的床铺的一头，免得树枝散开，并从那块木板边上劈下两个尖楔,打进地里,卡住树干。然后他把木板和斧头拿回山洞，撩起门毯，“着头进去，把这两件东西靠在润壁上。
“你在外面做啥，“”比拉尔向，“做了一张床。，
“你做床，可别拿我那新搁板劈呀。““请原谅。”
“没关系。”她说。“锯木厂里木板多着，你做的床是啥样
的?，
“就象我家乡的一样。”
“那就在铺上好好睡吧，”她说。罗伯特 乔丹打开个背包，从里面抽出睡袋，把包在里面的东西放回背包，然后拿着睡袋再撩开门毯，低头走出山洞，把睡袋铺在树枝上，让睡袋那封闭的一头抵在那根横钉在床脚的树干上。睡袋口有睃峭的石壁遮挡着。然后他再到山洞里去拿他的背包，但比拉尔说，“就象昨晚一样，背包跟我睡得啦，“
“你不派人放哨？“他问。“今晚天晴,风雪又停了。”“费尔南多去，”比拉尔说。玛丽亚正在山洞深处，罗伯特 乔丹看不见她。“诸位晚安。”他说。“我去睡啦。”大家正在把扳桌和蒙着生皮的凳子推到一边，腾出睡觉的地方,把毯子和铺兼摊在炉火前的地上。这时,其中的膂里米蒂伏和安德烈斯抬起头来说,晚安。”
安塞尔莫在角落里，已经睡熟了,身体裹在他的毪子和披风里,连鼻子也看不到。巴勃罗坐在椅子里睡熟了。
“你铺上要张羊皮吗?”比拉尔低声问罗伯特 乔丹。’
“不用。”他说。“谢谢你。我不需要。”
“好好睡吧。”地说。“你的东西我负贲，“
费尔南多跟他一起来到洞外，在罗伯特 乔丹铺睡袋的地方站了一会儿。
“你这主意很古怪,睡在餺天。堂.罗伯托，”他站在黑暗中说，身上裹着毯子式的披风，卡宾枪挂在肩上。“我习惯了。晚安。”“你习愤了就行，““什么时候人家来换你的班?”“四点钟。”
“从现在到四点这一段时间很冷。”“我习惯了。”费尔南多说。“你习惯了那就行一〃罗伯特 乔丹客气地说。‘“对。”费尔南多附和说。“我现在得上山去放哨啦。晚安,堂 罗伯托。”
“晚安，费尔南多。”
然后他把脱下的衣眼做了个枕头，钻进睡袋，躺着等待，感到在这暖和的法兰绒衬里的羽绒睡袋底下，那些树枝富有弹性。他注视着雪地对面的山洞口，等待着，觉得心在眺。
夜色晴朗,他感到头脑和空气一样清激而寒冷。他闻到身体下面松枝的气味、压碎的松针的味儿和更强烈的树枝断口渗出的树脂香味。比拉尔，他想，比拉尔和她扯的死亡的气味。我爱闻的可是这一种气味。这一种和新割的首蓿的气味,还有你骑了马赶牛时踩碎的鼠尾草的气味，柴火的烟味和秋天烧树叶的气昧。那准是勾起乡愁的气味，秋天在故乡米苏拉的街上耙成堆的树叶燃烧时的烟火味。你情愿闻哪一种气味呢？印第安人编篮子用的香草的气味？熏皮张的气味？春雨后泥土的气味？你在加利西亚地岬上走在金雀花丛中闻到的海洋味儿？还是你在黑夜里驶近古巴的时候，从陆地上吹来的凤的气味，“那是仙人掌花、含羞草和马尾藻丛的气味。要不，你情愿闻闻在早晨饥饿时所吃的煎烕肉的香味？还是早熳的咖啡香？还是把一只晚秋苹果一口咬下去时闻到的香味?还是苹果酒作坊在碾碎苹果时的味儿,或者刚出炉的面包香味呢？他想 你一定饿了。他侧身躺着,借着照在雪上的星光望着那山洞口。
有人从毯子后钻出来。他看见那人站在山岩的缺口前，就是那山洞口，但看不清是谁。他接着听到在雪里移动的脚步声，接宥，这个人撩起毯子，低着头又进表了。
他想 着来她要等大家都睡热了才会前来。真是浪费时间锕。夜晚过去一半了。玛丽亚舸。快来吧，玛萠亚，因为时间不多啦。他听到树枝上一块雪轻柔地掉在雪地上的声苷。起了一阵微风，他脸上瘅到了。他忽然慌张起来，说不定她不会来了，这时起了风，使他想到早晨不久就要来临申他听到微风吹动树梢的声音，树枝上叉有些雪落下来了。
来吧,玛丽亚。他想 请你现在快到我身边来吧。啊,快到我身边来吧。别等啦。你等不等他们睡热,都没有关系了。
接着,他看到她从那蒙在山洞口的毯子下面钻出来了。蚀站了一会儿,他知道是她,但看不淸她在做什么。他低声吹了声口哨，但她还在洞。山岩的黑影里撖着什么。接着，她手里拿着什么东西奔过來了。他看到她两条长腿在雪地里奔跑,按着,她跪在睡袋旁边，拍掉脚上的雪，用头紧挨着他 她亲了他—下，把一包东西递给他。 。” 、
“把这个和你的枕头放在一起。”她说。“我在祸口脱掉了鞋,免得浪费时间。” ‘
“你光着脚从雪地里来的?” ，
“是啊，”她说。“只穿一件结婿衬.衫，“
他把她紧紧地搂在怀里，她把头磨蹭着他的下巴。
“别碰脚，”她说。“脚很冷，罗伯托。”“把脚伸到这儿来，暖和暖和。”
“不。”她说。“很快就会暖和起来的。现在快说,你爱我。”
“我爱你。”
“好，好。好。”
“我爱你，小兔子。。
“你爱我的结婚衬衫吗,
"永远是这一件。”
“对。就象昨晚一祥。这是我的结婚衬衫，““把脚伸到这儿来。”
〃不，那不象话。脚自已会暖和起来的。我不觉得脚冷。只因为踩过雪,你才觉得冷的。再说一遍。““我爱你，我的小兔子“我也爱你，我是你的妻子，““他们睡着了。”
〃没有，”她说。“可我再也忍不住了。那有什么关系?”“一点儿没关系，”他说，感到她貼在身上，苗条而頎长的身子温暖喜人 “什么都没有关系了。”
“把手放在我头上，”她说。“我来试试看能不能吻你，“、“这样好吗？〃她问办
“好。”他说。“把你的结婚衬衫脱了。”“你要我脱吗?”“要,不冷就脱。”
“鄺儿的话！我身上象着了火似的。”“我也是。可是过后你不会觉得冷吗”
“不会。过后我们会象森林里的野軎，紧紧地挨在“起，彼此都分不出哪个是你、哪个是我了。你不觉得我的心就是你的心吗?”
“觉得。分不出了。”
“现在你祺摸。我就是你,你就是我,你我成为一个人了。我爱你，啊，我多么爱你。我们不是真的成为一个人了？你不觉得吗，“”
“觉得，”他说。“的确如此。”“现在你摸摸。你除了我的心外可没别的心了。”“也没有别的鼷、别的脚或别的身体了。”“可我们是不一样的，”她说。“我希望我们完全一样。”“你不是这个意思。”
“是的，是这个意思。是这个意思。我非要对你这样说不可。”
“你不是这个意思。”
“也许不是，”她温柔地说，嘴唇贴在他肩上。“可是我巴不得这样说。既然我们不“样,叫我髙兴的是你是罗伯托,我是玛丽亚-不过，要是你想变，我也乐意变。我愿意变成你，因为我太爱你了。”
“我可不愿意变。还是你是你、我是我的好，“ 可现在我们要变成一个人啦，再分不出你我了。”她接着讲，“即使你不在身边，我也是你 明,我真爱你，我一定要好好地宠爱你,“玛丽亚。”“嗯。”“玛丽亚。”
“嗯。，“玛丽亚。”“噢，嗳。说吧。”“你不冷吗?”
“噢，不。把睡袋拉拉好，遮住你的肩，““玛丽亚。”“我说不出话了，““啊，玛丽亚。玛丽亚。玛丽亚。”到后来，紧挨着躺在一起，外面是寒夜,睡袋里是绵绵暖意，她头貼在他脸颊上,静静地、愉快埤挨在他身旁，接着温柔地说，“你呢？”
“跟你“样，”他说。
“好。”她说。“不过跟今天下午不一样。”“是啊。”
“可我更喜欢这样。不一定要死过去的。”
“但愿不，”他说。“我希望不要死，“〃我不是这个意思。”
“我知道。我知道你的意思。我们是一个意思，“
“那你干吗说这话而不照我的意思说?”
“对男人莱说是不一样的。“ ‘
“那我髙兴我们是不一样的。”
“我也高兴，“他说，“不过我僅得这死过去的感觉，我这样说,只不过因为我是男人，出于习愤。我和你的感觉一样。”“不管你怎么样，不管你怎样说,都正合我的心意。”“我爱你,我还爱你的名字,玛丽亚，“〃那是个普通的名字，“
“不，”他说。“不普通。”
“我们现在睡吧?”她说。“我很快就会睡熟的。”“我们睡吧，”他说。他感到那颀长而轻盈的身体温暖地挨着他,使人舒适地挨着他,排除孤独地挨着他；就凭腰部的接触，肩膀和脚的接触，奇妙地使他不再感到孤独，跟他结成一个对抗死亡的联盟，于是他说，“好好睡吧,长脚小兔子。”她说，“我已经睡熟了。”
“我就要睡着了，”他说。“好好睡吧，亲爱的。”然后他入睡了，快乐地熟睡着。
但是，夜半他酲来，把她紧紧搂着，仿佛她就是生命中的“切,正从他身边被夺走似的。他搂着她，觉得她是存在着的生命中的一切,而且事实正是如此。她呢，安详地熟睡着，没有醒过来。于是他翻了个身，侧卧在一边，拉起睡袋兼住她的头，在睡袋里凑着她的脖子吻了一下，然后拉起手枪上的绳子,把手枪放在随手拿得到的身旁，然后躺在夜色里思量。
收听单词发音 |
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suppleness
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| 柔软； 灵活； 易弯曲； 顺从 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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bulge
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| n.突出，膨胀，激增；vt.突出，膨胀 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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overlapping
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| adj./n.交迭（的） | |
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plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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pegged
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| v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的过去式和过去分词 )；使固定在某水平 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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resinous
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| adj.树脂的，树脂质的，树脂制的 | |
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sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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nostalgia
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| n.怀乡病，留恋过去，怀旧 | |
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cactus
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| n.仙人掌 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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23
wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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