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SHOGUN 幕府大将军(前传3)铁铮 博士 译

(2009-06-04 22:39:22)


  "Ahead," he replied, no longer believing it, then put the flagon away, closed his ears to the whines and left, hating him anew.

       Almost exactly a year ago they had reached Tierra del Fuego, the winds favorable for the stab into the unknown of Magellan's Pass.  But the Captain-General had ordered a landing to search for gold and treasure.

      "Christ Jesus, look ashore, Captain-General!  There's no treasure in those wastes."

      "Legend says it's rich with gold and we can claim the land for the glorious Netherlands."

        "The Spaniards have been here in strength for fifty years."

        "Perhaps-but perhaps not this far south, Pilot-Major."

        "This far south the seasons're reversed.  May, June, July, August're dead winter here.  The rutter says the timing's critical to get through the Straits-the winds turn in a few weeks, then we'll have to stay here, winter here for months."

         "How many weeks, Pilot?"

         "The rutter says eight.  But seasons don't stay the same—"

         "Then we'll explore for a couple of weeks.  That gives us plenty of time and then, if necessary, we'll go north again and sack a few more towns, eh, gentlemen?"

       "We've got to try now, Captain-General.  The Spanish have very few warships in the Pacific.  Here the seas are teeming with them and they're looking for us.  I say we've got to go on now."












      But the Captain-General had overridden him and put it to a vote of the other captains—not to the other pilots, one English and three Dutch—and had led the useless forays ashore.

但是当时司令还是压制了他的启程意见,还和船长们一起投票决定去留——选出来投票的军官都不懂领航,三个荷兰军官和一个英国军官都投票决定上岸—— 结果是最后进行了一次毫无意义的上岛攻击行动。

       The winds had changed early that year and they had had to winter there, the Captain-General afraid to go north because of Spanish fleets.  It was four months before they could sail.  By then one hundred and fifty-six men in the fleet had died of starvation, cold, and the flux and they were eating the calfskin that covered the ropes.  The terrible storms within the Strait had scattered the fleet.  Erasmus was the only ship that made the rendezvous off Chile.  They had waited a month for the others and then, the Spaniards closing in, had set sail into the unknown.  The secret rutter stopped at Chile.


     Blackthorne walked back along the corridor and unlocked his own cabin door, relocking it behind him.  The cabin was low-beamed, small, and orderly, and he had to stoop as he crossed to sit at his desk.  He unlocked a drawer and carefully unwrapped the last of the apples he had hoarded so carefully all the way from Santa Maria Island, off Chile.  It was bruised and tiny, with mold on the rotting section.  He cut off a quarter.  There were a few maggots inside.  He ate them with the flesh, heeding the old sea legend that the apple maggots were just as effective against scurvy as the fruit and that, rubbed into the gums, they helped prevent your teeth from falling out.  He chewed the fruit gently because his teeth were aching and his gums sore and tender, then sipped water from the wine skin.  It tasted brackish.  Then he wrapped the remainder of the apple and locked it away.

    布莱克松沿着走廊漫步走回右舷舱,打开房门,走进自己的房间,又返身锁好舱门。 他的舱房不大,但很整洁。房间顶梁很低 ,他小心地缩着头坐到自己的书桌前面。布莱克松拿钥匙打开抽屉锁,小心翼翼地从里面拿出仔细包好的苹果,这苹果可是自从上次离开智利桑塔玛利亚岛出发后一路到今天他所剩下的最后一点水果。苹果不大,有腐烂坑点的果肉处色泽黯淡。布莱克松爱惜地用刀切了四分之一块,里面烂得已经长出蛆虫了。他一边吃着小块苹果,一边把这些蛆虫一道咽下,不禁想起古老的海上故事里说这苹果里的蛆虫对付败血症和吃水果一样灵验,只要你把它们抹到牙床里,就能预防牙齿脱落。 布莱克松的牙齿现在也很痛,上下牙床都觉得酸痛松软,他慢慢地啃完苹果,从皮酒囊里吸了小口水,水很难喝。行啦,他把剩下的宝贝苹果仔细包好,锁回抽屉。

      A rat scurried in the shadows cast by the hanging oil lantern over his head.  Timbers creaked pleasantly.  Cockroaches swarmed on the floor.

      I'm tired.  I'm so tired.

      He glanced at his bunk.  Long, narrow, the straw palliasse inviting.

      I'm so tired.

      Go to sleep for this hour, the devil half of him said.  Even for ten minutes—and you'll be fresh for a week.  You've had only a few hours for days now, and most of that aloft in the cold.  You must sleep.  Sleep.  They rely on you. . . .





就睡半个时辰吧——身体里的那个邪恶自我在发出召唤,就算十分钟,也能让你一个礼拜都重新精神焕发。有些日子了,你总共加起来只休息了几个小时,还差不多都是在甲板上冷风里偷着打的盹。你必须要休息,去睡吧,大伙儿都指望着你呢. . . .

     "I won't, I'll sleep tomorrow," he said aloud, and forced his hand to unlock his chest and take out his rutter.  He saw that the other one, the Portuguese one, was safe and untouched and that pleased him.  He took a clean quill and began to write:  "April 21 1600.  Fifth hour.  Dusk.  133d day from Santa Maria Island, Chile, on the 32 degree North line of latitude.  Sea still high and wind strong and the ship rigged as before.  The color of the sea dull gray-green and bottomless.  We are still running before the wind along a course of 270 degrees, veering to North North West, making way briskly, about two leagues, each of three miles this hour.  Large reefs shaped like a triangle were sighted at half the hour bearing North East by North half a league distant.

    "Three men died in the night of the scurvy—Joris sailmaker, Reiss gunner, 2d mate de Haan.  After commending their souls to God, the Captain-General still being sick, I cast them into the sea without shrouds, for there was no one to make them.  Today Bosun Rijckloff died.

“我还不能睡,明天再说吧。” 布莱克松大声给自己振奋打气,他强做精神打开锁,从储柜里拿出他的海图志。布莱克松看着储柜里安全储放着的另一份葡萄牙人的海图志,无人可以擅自触动,不觉松了口气。他抽出一支干净的鹅毛笔,开始在他的海图志上书写记录:“公元1600年4月21日,现在是第五个时辰,接近黄昏,也是启程离开位于北纬三十二度线的智利桑塔玛利亚岛后的第一百三十三天。我们仍航行在深海区,海风猛烈,舰船依旧勉强支撑着到现在。海水颜色是暗灰绿色,深不见底。我们原本北风航向二百七十度罗盘航向,风力突然把我们推向北偏西方向,力道迅猛,这个小时就前进了6里。在转向西北方向前进的半小时后,在船头偏北方向三里远视力所及处,发现大片三角状的大礁石。


   "I could not take the declension of the sun at noon today, again due to overcast.  But I

estimate we are still on course and that landfall in the Japans should be soon. . . .

     "But how soon?" he asked the sea lantern that hung above his head, swaying with the pitch of the ship.  How to make a chart?  There must be a way, he told himself for the millionth time.  How to set longitude?  There must be a way.  How to keep vegetables fresh?  What is scurvy—?

    “由于多云天气再次出现,今天我没法儿从观测中午太阳倾角来判定方位。可我估计我们仍然保持着航向,应该很快就可以在日本着陆. . . .”


    "They say it's a flux from the sea, boy,"  Alban Caradoc had said.  He was a huge-bellied, great-hearted man with a tangled gray beard.

    "But could you boil the vegetables and keep the broth?"

   "It sickens, lad.  No one's ever discovered a way to store it."

    "They say that Francis Drake sails soon."

    "No.  You can't go, boy."

     "I'm almost fourteen.  You let Tim and Watt sign on with him and he needs apprentice pilots."

      "They're sixteen.  You're just thirteen."

     “大家都说败血病是来自海洋的流疫,小伙子,” 他的老师——奥班·凯拉多克这样说过。凯拉多克老先生大腹便便,心胸宽广无畏,留着密匝匝的灰色络腮胡子。








     "They say he's going to try for Magellan's Pass, then up the coast to the unexplored region— to the Californias—to find the Straits of Anian that join Pacific with Atlantic.  From the Californias all the way to Newfoundland, the Northwest Passage at long last. . ."

     "The supposed Northwest Passage, lad.  No one's proved that legend yet."

    "He will.  He's Admiral now and we'll be the first English ship through Magellan's Pass, the first in the Pacific, the first—I'll never get another chance like this."

    "Oh, yes, you will, and he'll never breach Magellan's secret way 'less he can steal a rutter or capture a Portuguese pilot to guide him through.  How many times must I tell you—a pilot must have patience.  Learn patience, boy.  You've plen—"

   "Please!"         "No."         "Why?"

     “据说弗朗西斯·德拉克船长要进军麦哲伦海峡,然后沿海岸线北上,探险未知领域——加利福尼亚——他要寻找联接太平洋与大西洋的阿尼亚海峡。然后他会从加利福尼亚出发一路北上,最终通过地球最西北的海洋航道——到达纽芬兰. . ."







       "Because he'll be gone two, three years, perhaps more.  The weak and the young will get the worst of the food and the least of the water.  And of the five ships that go, only his will come back.  You'll never survive, boy."

        "Then I'll sign for his ship only.  I'm strong.  He'll take me!"

        "Listen, boy, I was with Drake in Judith, his fifty tonner, at San Juan de Ulua when we and Admiral Hawkins—he was in Minion—when we fought our way out of harbor through the dung- eating Spaniards.  We'd been trading slaves from Guinea to the Spanish Main, but we had no Spanish license for the trade and they tricked Hawkins and trapped our fleet.  They'd thirteen great ships, we six.  We sank three of theirs, and they sank our Swallow, Angel, Caravelle, and the Jesus of Lubeck.  Oh, yes, Drake fought us out of the trap and brought us home.  With eleven men aboard to tell the tale.  Hawkins had fifteen.  Out of four hundred and eight jolly Jack Tars.  Drake is merciless, boy.  He wants glory and gold, but only for Drake, and too many men are dead proving it."




        "But I won't die.  I'll be one of—"

        "No.  You're apprenticed for twelve years.  You've ten more to go and then you're free.  But until that time, until 1588, you'll learn how to build ships and how to command them—you'll obey Alban Caradoc, Master Shipwright and Pilot and Member of Trinity House, or you'll never have a license.  And if you don't have a license, you'll never pilot any ship in English waters, you'll never command the quarterdeck of any English ship in any waters because that was good King Harry's law, God rest his soul.  It was the great whore Mary Tudor's law, may her soul burn in hell, it's the Queen's law, may she reign forever, it's England's law, and the best sea law that's ever been."



       Blackthorne remembered how he had hated his master then, and hated Trinity House, the monopoly created by Henry VIII in 1514 for the training and licensing of all English pilots and masters, and hated his twelve years of semibondage, without which he knew he could never get the one thing in the world he wanted.  And he had hated Alban Caradoc even more when, to everlasting glory, Drake and his hundred-ton sloop, the Golden Hind had miraculously come back to England after disappearing for three years, the first English ship to circumnavigate the globe, bringing with her the richest haul of plunder aboard ever brought back to those shores:  an incredible million and a half sterling in gold, silver, spices, and plate.


       That four of the five ships were lost and eight out of every ten men were lost and Tim and Watt were lost and a captured Portuguese pilot had led the expedition for Drake through the Magellan into the Pacific did not assuage his hatred; that Drake had hanged one officer, excommunicated the chaplain Fletcher, and failed to find the Northwest Passage did not detract from national admiration.  The Queen took fifty percent of the treasure and knighted him.  The gentry and merchants who had put up the money for the expedition received three hundred percent profit and pleaded to underwrite his next corsair voyage.  And all seamen begged to sail with him, because he did get plunder, he did come home, and, with their share of the booty, the lucky few who survived were rich for life.


     I would have survived, Blackthorne told himself.  I would.  And my share of the treasure then would have been enough to—"

      "Rotz vooruiiiiiiiit!"  Reef ahead!

      He felt the cry at first more than he heard it.  Then, mixed with the gale, he heard the wailing scream again. He was out of the cabin and up the companionway onto the quarterdeck, his heart pounding, his throat parched.  It was dark night now and pouring, and he was momentarily exulted for he knew that the canvas raintraps, made so many weeks ago, would soon be full to overflowing.  He opened his mouth to the near horizontal rain and tasted its sweetness, then turned his back on the squall.

      He saw that Hendrik was paralyzed with terror.  The bow lookout, Maetsukker, cowered near the prow, shouting incoherently, pointing ahead.  Then he too looked beyond the ship.

       The reef was barely two hundred yards ahead, great black claws of rocks pounded by the hungry sea.  The foaming line of surf stretched port and starboard, broken intermittently.  The gale was lifting huge swathes of spume and hurling them at the night blackness.  A forepeak halliard snapped and the highest top gallant spar was carried away.  The mast shuddered in its bed but held, and the sea bore the ship inexorably to its death.






        "All hands on deck!"  Blackthorne shouted, and rang the bell violently. The noise brought Hendrik out of his stupor.  "We're lost!" he screamed in Dutch.  "Oh, Lord

Jesus help us!"

      "Get the crew on deck, you bastard!  You've been asleep!  You've both been asleep!" 

Blackthorne shoved him toward the companionway, held onto the wheel, slipped the protecting lashing from the spokes, braced himself, and swung the wheel hard aport.

       He exerted all his strength as the rudder bit into the torrent.  The whole ship shuddered.  Then the prow began to swing with increasing velocity as the wind bore down and soon they were broadside to the sea and the wind.  The storm tops'ls bellied and gamely tried to carry the weight of the ship and all the ropes took the strain, howling.  The following sea towered above them and they were making way, parallel to the reef, when he saw the great wave.  He shouted a warning  at the men who were coming from the fo'c'sle, and hung on for his life.





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