評(píng)論
打印
The teacher allowed some wine to trickle down on his breast; my father rose, and wiped it off with his napkin. "No, sir; I cannot permit this," the old man said, and smiled. He said some words in Latin. And, finally, he raised his glass, which wavered about in his hand, and said very gravely, "To your health, my dear engineer, to that of your children, to the memory of your good mother!"
先生打翻了酒，父親立起來(lái)用食巾替他拭干。先生笑了說(shuō)：“呼呀！鄧呀！真對(duì)不起你！”后來(lái)，先生用了那顫動(dòng)著的手舉起杯來(lái)，鄭重地說(shuō)：“技師！為了祝你和孩子的健康，為了對(duì)你母親的紀(jì)念，干了這杯！”
"To yours, my good master!" replied my father, pressing his hand. And at the end of the room stood the innkeeper and several others, watching us, and smiling as though they were pleased at this attention which was being shown to the teacher from their parts.
“先生！祝你健康！”父親回答，握了先生的手。在屋角里的餐館主人和侍者們都向我們看。他們見(jiàn)了這師生的情愛(ài)，似乎也很感動(dòng)。
At a little after two o'clock we came out, and the master wanted to escort us to the station. My father gave him his arm once more, and he again took me by the hand: I carried his cane for him. The people paused to look on, for they all knew him: some saluted him. At one point in the street we heard, through an open window, many boys' voices, reading together, and spelling. The old man halted, and seemed to be saddened by it.
“先生！祝你健康！”父親回答，握了先生的手。在屋角里的餐館主人和侍者們都向我們看。他們見(jiàn)了這師生的情愛(ài)，似乎也很感動(dòng)。在街上走著。前面窗口傳出小孩的讀書(shū)聲來(lái)。老人站住了悲哀地說(shuō)：
"This, my dear Signor Bottini," he said, "is what pains me. To hear the voices of boys in school, and not be there any more; to think that another man is there. I have heard that music for sixty years, and I have grown to love it. Now I am deprived of my family. I have no sons."
“勃諦尼君！這最使我傷心！一聽(tīng)到學(xué)生的讀書(shū)聲，就想到我已不在學(xué)校，另有別人代我在那里，不覺(jué)悲傷起來(lái)了！那，那是我六十年來(lái)聽(tīng)熟了的音樂(lè)，我非常歡喜的。我好像已和家族分離，成了一個(gè)小孩都沒(méi)有了的人了！”
