評論
打印
They want protection. Last night a baker was roasted in his own oven. The mob claimed he charged too much for bread.
“他們要的是保護。昨晚有個面包師被人放在自己爐子上烤熟了，暴民說他面包賣得太貴。”
Did he?
“真的？”
He's not apt to deny it.
“現在他也沒法否認。”
They didn't eat him, did they?
“他們……沒把他吃了吧？”
Not that I've heard.
“這倒沒聽說。”
Next time they will, Tyrion said grimly. "I give them what protection I can. The gold cloaks—"
“想來下次一定會，”提利昂沉重地說，“能提供的保護我都給了。金袍軍——”
They claim there were gold cloaks in the mob, Bronn said. "They're demanding to speak to the king himself."
“他們聲稱有金袍軍混在暴民里，”波隆道，“因此要求晉見陛下本人。”
Fools. Tyrion had sent them off with regrets; his nephew would send them off with whips and spears. He was half-tempted to allow it... but no, he dare not. Soon or late, some enemy would march on King's Landing, and the last thing he wanted was willing traitors within the city walls. "Tell them King Joffrey shares their fears and will do all he can for them." "They want bread, not promises."
“一群蠢蛋。”提利昂上次連聲致歉，好說歹說把他們送走；換做他外甥，動用的可就是鞭子和長槍了。他真有點想撒手不管……但不行，他不敢這么做。敵人兵臨城下是早晚的事，此刻他最不能容許的就是被城里的叛徒出賣。“告訴他們，喬佛里國王陛下業已體察他們的恐慌，將盡一切努力為他們改善環境。” “他們要的是面包，不是承諾。”
If I give them bread today, on the morrow I'll have twice as many at the gates. Who else?
“我若是今天給他們面包，明天來請求的人就會多上一倍。還有誰？”
A black brother down from the Wall. The steward says he brought some rotted hand in a jar.
“有個長城來的黑衣弟兄，總管說他帶了個罐子，里面有只爛掉的手。”
Tyrion smiled wanly. "I'm surprised no one ate it. I suppose I ought to see him. It's not Yoren, perchance?"
提利昂有氣無力地微笑，“真令人驚訝，怎么沒人把它給吃了。我想我該見見他，不會剛巧是尤倫吧？”
No. Some knight. Thorne.
“不，是個騎士，叫索恩。”
