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没有被斗败的人
Manuel Garcia climbed the stairs to Don Miguel Retana's office.He set down his suitcase and knocked on the door.There was no answer.Manuel,standing in the hallway,felt there was someone in the room.He felt it through the door.
曼努埃尔·加西亚上了楼，来到唐米格尔·雷塔纳的办公室门前。他放下手提箱，敲了敲门。没人应答。曼努埃尔站在过道里，感觉到房间里有人。隔着门，他能感觉得到。
"Retana,"he said,listening.
“雷塔纳。”他叫道，听着里面的反应。
There was no answer.
没人应答。
He's there,all right,Manuel thought.
他就在里面，没错，曼努埃尔想。
"Retana,"he said and banged the door.
“雷塔纳。”他一边叫一边砰砰地敲着门。
"Who's there?"said someone in the office.
“谁？”办公室里有人问道。
"Me,Manolo,"Manuel said.
“我，马诺洛。”曼努埃尔答道。
"What do you want?"asked the voice.
“你有什么事？”那个声音问道。
"I want to work,"Manuel said.
“我来找点儿事做。”曼努埃尔说。
Something in the door clicked several times and it swung open.Manuel went in,carrying his suitcase.
门上的什么东西咔嗒咔嗒响了几声，接着，门开了。曼努埃尔提着手提箱走了进去。
A little man sat behind a desk at the far side of the room.Over his head was a bull's head,stuffed by a Madrid taxidermist;on the walls were framed photographs and bull—fight posters.
一个小个子男人，坐在房间另一头的一张桌子后面。他的头顶上方悬挂着一只公牛头，是由马德里的动物标本剥制师制作的。墙上挂着装在相框里的照片，还有斗牛海报。
The little man sat looking at Manuel.
小个子男人坐在那里，看着曼努埃尔。
"I thought they'd killed you,"he said.
“我还以为它们要了你的命呢。”他说。
Manuel knocked with his knuckles on the desk.The little man sat looking at him across the desk.
曼努埃尔用指关节敲着桌子。小个子男人坐在那里，隔着办公桌看着他。
"How many corridas you had this year?"Retana asked.
“你今年斗了几次牛？”雷塔纳问道。
"One."he answered.
“一次。”他答道。
"Just that one?"the little man asked.
“就那一次？”小个子男人问。
"That's all."
“就那一次。”
"I read about it in the papers,"Retana said.He leaned back in the chair and looked at Manuel.Manuel looked up at the stuffed bull.He had seen it often before.He felt a certain family interest in it.It had killed his brother,the promising one,about nine years ago.Manuel remembered the day.There was a brass plate on the oak shield the bull's head was mounted on.Manuel could not read it,but he imagined it was in memory of his brother.Well,he had been a good kid.The plate said:"The Bull 'Mariposa'of the Duke of Veragua,which accepted 9varas for 7caballos,and caused the death of Antonio Garcia,Novillero,April 27，1909."
“我在报纸上看到了。”雷塔纳说。他往后一仰，靠在椅背上，看着曼努埃尔。曼努埃尔抬头看着公牛标本。从前，他经常看到它。他感觉自己对它有某种家族性的兴趣。大约九年前，这头公牛杀死了他的哥哥，很有前途的那个。曼努埃尔还记得那一天。公牛头底下的盾形橡木座上有一块铜牌。曼努埃尔不认识上面的字，但是他猜想那是纪念他哥哥的。唉，他可是个好孩子。铜牌上写着：“贝拉瓜公爵的公牛‘蝴蝶’，曾被七位骑马斗牛士的长矛刺中，负伤九次；于1909年4月27日挑死见习斗牛士安东尼奥·加西亚。”
Retana saw him looking at the stuffed bull's head.
雷塔纳看到他在看公牛头标本。
"The lot the Duke sent me for Sunday will make a scandal,"he said."They're all bad in the legs.What do they say about them at the Cafe?"
“公爵送来的那批星期天用的牛肯定会出丑，”他说，“腿脚全都不好。咖啡馆里的人们是怎么谈论这批牛的？”
"I don't know,"Manuel said."I just got in."
“我不知道，”曼努埃尔说，“我刚来。”
"Yes,"Retana said."You still have your bag."
“对啊，”雷塔纳说，“你还带着提包呢。”
He looked at Manuel,leaning back behind the big desk.
他坐在那张大办公桌后面，往后倚着，看着曼努埃尔。
"Sit down,"he said."Take off your cap."
“坐吧，”他说，“摘掉帽子。”
Manuel sat down;his cap off,his face was changed.He looked pale,and his coleta pinned forward on his head,so that it would not show under the cap,gave him a strange look."You don't look well,"Retana said.
曼努埃尔坐了下来。摘掉帽子后，他的脸似乎变了个样。他看上去很苍白，短辫子从后往前别在头上，这样它就不会从帽子下露出来。他的这副打扮看起来很怪。“你看起来不大好。”雷塔纳说。
"I just got out of the hospital,"Manuel said.
“我刚出院。”曼努埃尔说。
"I heard they'd cut your leg off,"Retana said.
“听说他们把你的腿锯了。”雷塔纳说。
"No,"said Manuel."It got all right."
“没有，”曼努埃尔说，“它被治好了。”
Retana leaned forward across the desk and pushed a wooden box of cigarettes toward Manuel.
雷塔纳从桌子上探过身，将装在木盒子里的香烟推到曼努埃尔跟前。
"Have a cigarette,"he said.
“抽支烟。”他说。
"Thanks."
“谢谢。”
Manuel lit it.
曼努埃尔点了一支。
"Smoke?"he said,offering the match to Retana.
“你也来一支？”他问道，把火柴递向雷塔纳。
"No,"Retana waved his hand,"I never smoke."
“不了，”雷塔纳摆摆手，“我从不抽烟。”
Retana watched him smoking.
雷塔纳看着他抽烟。
"Why don't you get a job and go to work?"he said.
“你为什么不找份工作，去上班呢？”他问道。
"I don't want to work,"Manuel said."I am a bullfighter."
“我不想工作，”曼努埃尔说，“我是个斗牛士。”
"There aren't any bullfighters any more,"Retana said.
“已经没有斗牛士了。”雷塔纳说。
"I'm a bullfighter,"Manuel said.
“我就是个斗牛士。”曼努埃尔说。
"Yes,while you're in there,"Retana said.
“是的，你在场上的时候才是。”雷塔纳说。
Manuel laughed.
曼努埃尔笑了。
Retana sat,saying nothing and looking at Manuel.
雷塔纳坐着，一言不发地看着曼努埃尔。
"I'll put you in a nocturnal if you want,"Retana offered.
“如果你愿意的话，我把你安排在夜场。”雷塔纳提议。
"When?"Manuel asked.
“什么时候？”曼努埃尔问道。
"Tomorrow night."
“明天夜里。”
"I don't like to substitute for anybody,"Manuel said.That was the way they all got killed.That was the way Salvador got killed.He tapped with his knuckles on the table.
“我不想替任何人出场。”曼努埃尔说。那些人都是这样死掉的。萨尔瓦多就是那样死的。他用指关节敲着桌子。
"It's all I've got,"Retana said.
“我只能做到这样了。”雷塔纳说。
"Why don't you put me on next week?"Manuel suggested.
“为什么不把我安排在下周呢？”曼努埃尔提议。
"You wouldn't draw,"Retana said."All they want is Litri and Rubito and La Torre.Those kids are good."
“你不卖座。”雷塔纳说，“他们想看的是李特里、鲁比托和拉托雷。这些小伙子都是好样的。”
"They'd come to see me get it,"Manuel said,hopefully.
“人们会来看我把牛干掉的。”曼努埃尔满怀希望地说。
"No,they wouldn't.They don't know who you are any more."
“不，他们不会来的。他们已经不知道你是谁了。”
"I've got a lot of stuff,"Manuel said.
“我会很多招数。”曼努埃尔说。
"I'm offering to put you on tomorrow night,"Retana said."You can work with young Hernandez and kill two novillos after the Charlots."
“我把你安排在明晚，”雷塔纳说，“你可以和小埃尔南德斯合作，在滑稽斗牛之后杀两头小公牛。”
"Whose novillos?"Manuel asked.
“谁的小公牛？”曼努埃尔问。
"I don't know.Whatever stuff they've got in the corrals.What the veterinaries won't pass in the daytime."
“我不知道。从他们牛栏里随便找的两头吧。白天不可能通过兽医检查的那些。”
"I don't like to substitute,"Manuel said.
“我不想替别人出场。”曼努埃尔说。
"You can take it or leave it,"Retana said.He leaned forward over the papers.He was no longer interested.The appeal that Manuel had made to him for a moment when he thought of the old days was gone.He would like to get him to substitute for Larita because he could get him cheaply.He could get others cheaply too.He would like to help him though.Still he had given him the chance.It was up to him."How much do I get?"Manuel asked.He was still playing with the idea of refusing.But he knew he could not refuse.
“你要么去做，要么走。”雷塔纳说。他身子往前一倾，埋头看起文件来。他已经没兴趣了。回想起往昔时，他动摇过，但是这会儿他对曼努埃尔已经失去兴趣了。他想让曼努埃尔做拉里塔的替身，因为这样会很便宜。他也可以找到其他的廉价替身。不过，他愿意帮曼努埃尔一把。他还是给了他这个机会。就看他了。“我能拿多少？”曼努埃尔问。他还在想着拒绝。但他知道，他无法拒绝。
"Two hundred and fifty pesetas,"Retana said.He had thought of five hundred,but when he opened his mouth it said two hundred and fifty.
“二百五十比塞塔。”雷塔纳说。他本想说五百的，但是话一出口就变成了二百五十。
"You pay Villalta seven thousand,"Manuel said.
“你给比里亚尔塔七千呢。”曼努埃尔说。
"You're not Villalta,"Retana said.
“你又不是比里亚尔塔。”雷塔纳说。
"I know it,"Manuel said.
“我知道。”曼努埃尔说。
"He draws it,Manolo,"Retana said in explanation.
“他很卖座，马诺洛。”雷塔纳解释道。
"Sure,"said Manuel.He stood up."Give me three hundred,Retana."
“是的。”曼努埃尔说。他站起身来。“给我三百，雷塔纳。”
"All right,"Retana agreed.He reached in the drawer for a paper.
“好吧。”雷塔纳同意了。他伸手在抽屉里找一份文件。
"Can I have fifty now?"Manuel asked.
“现在付我五十可以吗？”曼努埃尔问。
"Sure,"said Retana.He took a fifty—peseta note out of his pocket—book and laid it,spread out flat,on the table.
“当然可以。”雷塔纳说。他从皮夹里拿出一张五十比塞塔的钞票，把它展平，放在桌子上。
Manuel picked it up and put it in his pocket.
曼努埃尔把钱拿起来，放进口袋。
"What about a cuadrilla?"he asked.
“斗牛助手呢？”他问。
"There's the boys that always work for me nights,"Retana said."They're all right."
“有那些一直在夜里给我干活的小伙子，”雷塔纳说，“他们都不错。”
"How about picadors?"Manuel asked.
“长矛手呢？”曼努埃尔问。
"They're not much,"Retana admitted.
“长矛手不多。”雷塔纳坦承。
"I've got to have one good pic,"Manuel said.
“我得要个好的长矛手。”曼努埃尔说。
"Get him then,"Retana said."Go and get him."
“那你去找吧，”雷塔纳说，“去把他找来。”
"Not out of this,"Manuel said."I'm not paying for any cuadrilla out of sixty duros."Retana said nothing but looked at Manuel across the big desk.
“不能让我出钱，”曼努埃尔说，“我才挣六十杜罗，不能自己出钱雇斗牛助手。”雷塔纳什么都没说，只是从大桌子后面看着曼努埃尔。
"You know I've got to have one good pic,"Manuel said.
“你知道，我需要一个好长矛手。”曼努埃尔说。
Retana said nothing but looked at Manuel from a long way off.
雷塔纳什么都没说，只是远远地看着曼努埃尔。
"It isn't right,"Manuel said.
“那可不行。”曼努埃尔说。
Retana was still considering him,leaning back in his chair,considering him from a long way away.
雷塔纳还是打量着他，靠在椅子里远远地打量着他。
"There're the regular pics,"he offered.
“我这儿有正式的长矛手。”他提议道。
"I know,"Manuel said."I know your regular pics."
“我知道，”曼努埃尔说，“我知道你那些正式的长矛手。”
Retana did not smile.Manuel knew it was over.
雷塔纳的脸上没有一丝笑意。曼努埃尔知道，事情到此为止了。
"All I want is an even break,"Manuel said reasoningly."When I go out there I want to be able to call my shots on the bull.It only takes one good picador."
“我只是想让两边力量相当。”曼努埃尔分辩道，“我希望自己出场时能牵制住公牛。只要一个好的长矛手就够了。”
He was talking to a man who was no longer listening.
而他的谈话对象已经对他说的话充耳不闻了。
"If you want something extra,"Retana said,"go and get it.There will be a regular cuadrilla out there.Bring as many of your own pics as you want.The charlotada is over by 10.30."
“如果有什么额外要求，”雷塔纳说，“就自己去解决吧。我这边会出一个正式的斗牛助手。你愿意带多少自己的长矛手都可以。滑稽斗牛十点半结束。”
"All right,"Manuel said."If that's the way you feel about it."
“好吧，”曼努埃尔说，“如果你觉得这样做合适的话。”
"That's the way,"Retana said.
“就是这样。”雷塔纳说。
"I'll see you tomorrow night,"Manuel said.
“明晚见。”曼努埃尔说。
"I'll be out there,"Retana said.
“我会到场的。”雷塔纳说。
Manuel picked up his suitcase and went out.
曼努埃尔拎起手提箱，走了出去。
"Shut the door,"Retana called.
“把门关上。”雷塔纳喊道。
Manuel looked back.Retana was sitting forward looking at some papers.
曼努埃尔回头看了看。雷纳塔坐在那里看文件，身子往前倾着。
Manuel pulled the door tight until it clicked.
曼努埃尔把门拉严，直到它咔嗒一声锁上了。
He went down the stairs and out of the door into the hot brightness of the street.It was very hot in the street and the light on the white buildings was sudden and hard on his eyes.He walked down the shady side of the steep street toward the Puerta del Sol.The shade felt solid and cool as running water.The heat came suddenly as he crossed the intersecting streets.Manuel saw no one he knew in all the people he passed.
他走下楼梯，出了门，踏上明亮而炙热的街道。街上热浪滚滚，白色建筑物上的光骤然间刺得他睁不开眼。他沿着有阴凉的一边，顺着陡峭的街道向“太阳门”走去。阴凉给人的感觉像流水一样，纯净而凉爽。他穿过横街，热浪扑面而来。路过的人曼努埃尔一个都不认识。
Just before the Puerta del Sol he turned into a cafe.
就在“太阳门”前，他转身进了一家咖啡馆。
It was quiet in the cafe There were a few men sitting at tables against the wall.At one table four men played cards.Most of the men sat against the wall smoking,empty coffee—cups and liqueur—glasses before them on the tables.Manuel went through the long room to a small room in back.A man sat at a table in the corner asleep.Manuel sat down at one of the tables.
咖啡馆里很安静。几个男人坐在靠墙的桌子旁。四个男人围着一张桌子，正在打牌。大部分男人都背靠着墙坐着吸烟，面前的桌子上放着空的咖啡杯和玻璃酒杯。曼努埃尔穿过长长的房间，走进后面的一间小屋子。一个男人坐在角落里的桌子边，睡着了。曼努埃尔在一张桌子旁坐了下来。
A waiter came in and stood beside Manuel's table.
一个侍者走了进来，站在曼努埃尔桌旁。
"Have you seen Zurito?"Manuel asked him.
“你看到舒里托了吗？”曼努埃尔问他。
"He was in before lunch,"the waiter answered."He won't be back before five o'clock."
“他午饭前在这儿。”侍者答道，“不到五点他是不会回来的。”
"Bring me some coffee and milk and a shot of the ordinary,"Manuel said.
“给我来点儿牛奶咖啡，再来杯普通的酒。”曼努埃尔说。
The waiter came back into the room carrying a tray with a big coffee—glass and a liqueur—glass on it.In his left hand he held a bottle of brandy.He swung these down to the table and a boy who had followed him poured coffee and milk into the glass from two shiny,spouted pots with long handles.
侍者端着一个托盘回来了，托盘上放着一只大的玻璃咖啡杯和一只玻璃酒杯。侍者左手拿着一瓶白兰地。他转了个身，把这些东西放在桌上；跟在他后面的男孩提着两只亮闪闪的长嘴壶，把咖啡和牛奶倒进玻璃杯。
Manuel took off his cap and the waiter noticed his pigtail pinned forward on his head.He winked at the coffee—boy as he poured out the brandy into the little glass beside Manuel's coffee.The coffee—boy looked at Manuel's pale face curiously.
曼努埃尔摘下帽子，侍者看到了他那向前别在头上的小辫子。他一边往曼努埃尔咖啡杯旁的小玻璃杯里倒白兰地，一边给倒咖啡的男孩使了个眼色。倒咖啡的男孩好奇地看着曼努埃尔苍白的脸。
"You fighting here?"asked the waiter,corking up the bottle.
“您在这儿斗牛？”侍者一边塞上瓶盖，一边问道。
"Yes,"Manuel said."Tomorrow."
“是的，”曼努埃尔说，“明天。”
The waiter stood there,holding the bottle on one hip.
侍者站在那儿，用一侧胯部抵住瓶子。
"You in the Charlie Chaplins?"he asked.
“您在滑稽斗牛班里表演吗？”他问。
The coffee—boy looked away,embarrassed.
倒咖啡的男孩把目光转向别处，神情有些尴尬。
"No.In the ordinary."
“不。在正式的斗牛班里。”
"I thought they were going to have Chaves and Hernandez,"the waiter said.
“我还以为他们会让恰维斯和埃尔南德斯一起上场呢。”侍者说。
"No.Me and another."
“不。我和另外一个人。”
"Who?Chaves or Hernandez?"
“谁？恰维斯还是埃尔南德斯？”
"Hernandez,I think."
“我想是埃尔南德斯吧。”
"What's the matter with Chaves?"
“恰维斯怎么了？”
"He got hurt."
“他受伤了。”
"Where did you hear that?"
“您是从哪儿听说的？”
"Retana."
“雷塔纳说的。”
"Hey,Looie,"the waiter called to the next room,"Chaves got cogida."
“嘿，路易埃，”侍者朝另外一个房间喊道，“恰维斯让牛给挑了。”
Manuel had taken the wrapper off the lumps of sugar and dropped them into his coffee.He stirred it and drank it down,sweet,hot,and warming in his empty stomach.He drank off the brandy."Give me another shot of that,"he said to the waiter.
曼努埃尔撕去方糖的包装纸，把它们丢进咖啡里。他搅了搅咖啡，然后喝了下去；甘甜的热咖啡温暖了他空空如也的胃。他又喝掉了白兰地。“再来一杯。”他对侍者说。
The waiter uncorked the bottle and poured the glass full,slopping another drink into the saucer.Another waiter had come up in front of the table.The coffee—boy was gone.
侍者拔开瓶塞，倒了满满一杯，溢到茶碟里去的也足有一杯了。另外一名侍者也来到了桌前。倒咖啡的男孩不见了。
"Is Chaves hurt bad?"the second waiter asked Manuel.
“恰维斯伤得重吗？”第二个侍者问曼努埃尔。
"I don't know,"Manuel said,"Retana didn't say."
“我不知道，”曼努埃尔说，“雷塔纳没说。”
"A hell of a lot he cares,"the tall waiter said.Manuel had not seen him before.He must have just come up.
“他哪管那么多啊。”高个儿侍者说。曼努埃尔以前没见过他。他准是刚来的。
"If you stand in with Retana in this town,you're a made man,"the tall waiter said."If you aren't in with him,you might just as well go out and shoot yourself."
“在这座城里，你要是跟雷塔纳搭上关系，就算走运了。”高个子侍者说，“要是你跟他搭不上关系，那还不如出去朝自己开一枪。”
"You said it,"the other waiter who had come in said."You said it then."
“说对了，”另一个侍者走进来说，“你可是说对了。”
"You're right I said it,"said the tall waiter."I know what I'm talking about when I talk about that bird."
“没错，我说对了。”高个子侍者说，“说到那个家伙，我就知道我没说错。”
"Look what he's done for Villalta,"the first waiter said.
“看看他是怎么对比里亚尔塔的。”第一个侍者说。
"And that ain't all,"the tall waiter said."Look what he's done for Marcial Lalanda.Look what he's done for Nacional."
“还不止呢，”高个儿侍者说，“看他是怎么对马西亚尔·拉朗达的。还有纳西翁那尔。”
"You said it,kid,"agreed the short waiter.
“你说对了，小子。”矮个子侍者附和道。
Manuel looked at them,standing talking in front of his table.He had drunk his second brandy.They had forgotten about him.They were not interested in him.
曼努埃尔看着他们站在他桌前聊天。他已经喝掉了第二杯白兰地。他们把他忘到一边了。他们对他没兴趣。
"Look at that bunch of camels,"the tall waiter went on."Did you ever see this Nacional II?"
“看看那帮笨蛋。”高个子侍者接着说，“你见过这个纳西翁那尔第二吗？”
"I seen him last Sunday,didn't I?"the original waiter said.
“我上星期天不是见过他吗？”第一个侍者说。
"He's a giraffe,"the short waiter said.
“他是只长颈鹿。”矮个子侍者说。
"What did I tell you?"the tall waiter said."Those are Retana's boys."
“我跟你说什么来着？”矮个子侍者说，“他们都是雷塔纳的伙计。”
"Say,give me another shot of that,"Manuel said.He had poured the brandy the waiter had slopped over in the saucer into his glass and drank it while they were talking.
“喂，再给我来杯酒。”曼努埃尔说。在他们说话的时候，他已经把侍者洒在茶碟里的白兰地倒进杯子里喝掉了。
The original waiter poured his glass full mechanically,and the three of them went out of the room talking.
第一个侍者机械地把他的杯子倒满，接着，三个侍者一边说话一边走出了房间。
In the far corner the man was still asleep,snoring slightly on the intaking breath,his head back against the wall.
远处角落里的那个人还在睡，头向后仰着，靠着墙，吸气的时候发出轻微的鼾声。
Manuel drank his brandy.He felt sleepy himself.It was too hot to go out into the town.Besides there was nothing to do.He wanted to see Zurito.He would go to sleep while he waited.He kicked his suitcase under the table to be sure it was there.Perhaps it would be better to put it back under the seat,against the wall.He leaned down and shoved it under.Then he leaned forward on the table and went to sleep.
曼努埃尔喝下了白兰地。他自己也瞌睡起来了。现在太热了，他不想走出咖啡馆进城去。况且也没什么事可做。他想见舒里托一面。趁等的时候睡一觉吧。他踢了踢桌下的手提箱，确保它还在。或许，把它放在座位底下靠着墙会安全些。他俯下身子，把它推到座位下面。然后，他就趴在桌子上睡着了。
When he woke there was someone sitting across the table from him.It was a big man with a heavy brown face like an Indian.He had been sitting there some time.He had waved the waiter away and sat reading the paper and occasionally looking down at Manuel,asleep,his head on the table.He read the paper laboriously,forming the words with his lips as he read.When it tired him he looked at Manuel.He sat heavily in the chair,his black Cordoba hat tipped forward.
当他醒来的时候，桌子对面坐了一个人。这是个身材魁梧的男人，长着印第安人般的深棕色脸庞。他坐在那里有一会儿了。他挥手让侍者走开，坐在那里读报纸，偶尔低头看看把头枕在桌子上熟睡的曼努埃尔。他读得很仔细，一边看，一边唇读。当他读累了，就看看曼努埃尔。他重重地坐在椅子里，科尔多瓦帽向前压得低低的。
Manuel sat up and looked at him.
曼努埃尔坐直身子，看着他。
"Hello,Zurito,"he said.
“嗨，舒里托。”他说。
"Hello,kid,"the big man said.
“嗨，伙计。”大个儿说。
"I've been asleep."Manuel rubbed his forehead with the back of his fist.
“我刚才睡着了。”曼努埃尔一只手握拳，用手背揉了揉前额。
"I thought maybe you were."
“我就觉得你可能是睡着了。”
"How's everything?"
“你还好吗？”
"Good.How is everything with you?"
“挺好的。你呢？”
"Not so good."
“不太好。”
They were both silent.Zurito,the picador,looked at Manuel's white face.Manuel looked down at the picador's enormous hands folding the paper to put away in his pocket.
他们都沉默了。长矛手舒里托看着曼努埃尔苍白的脸。曼努埃尔低下头，看着长矛手的那双大手把报纸折起来，收进口袋。
"I got a favor to ask you,Manos,"Manuel said.
“我想请你帮个忙，铁手。”曼努埃尔说。
Manosduros was Zurito's nickname.He never heard it without thinking of his huge hands.He put them forward on the table self—consciously.
“铁手”是舒里托的外号。每次听到这个外号，他都会想到自己那双大手。他很不好意思地把那双手伸到桌子上。
"Let's have a drink,"he said.
“我们喝一杯吧。”他说。
"Sure,"said Manuel.
“好啊。”曼努埃尔说。
The waiter came and went and came again.He went out of the room looking back at the two men at the table.
侍者来了又去，去了又来。他一边往外走，一边回头看桌旁的这两个人。
"What's the matter,Manolo?"Zurito set down his glass.
“什么事，马诺洛？”舒里托放下杯子。
"Would you pic two bulls for me tomorrow night?"Manuel asked,looking up at Zurito across the table.
“明晚帮我扎两头牛好吗？”曼努埃尔问，从桌子对面抬起头看着舒里托。
"No,"said Zurito."I'm not pic—ing."
“不行，”舒里托说，“我已经不干这个了。”
Manuel looked down at his glass.He had expected that answer;now he had it.Well,he had it.
曼努埃尔低下头，盯着自己的杯子。他早就知道舒里托会这么回答；现在，他亲耳听到了这个回答。嗯，他听到了。
"I'm sorry,Manolo,but I'm not pic—ing."Zurito looked at his hands.
“很抱歉，马诺洛，我已经不扎牛了。”舒里托看着自己的手。
"That's all right,"Manuel said.
“没关系。”曼努埃尔说。
"I'm too old,"Zurito said.
“我太老了。”舒里托说。
"I just asked you,"Manuel said.
“我只是问问而已。”曼努埃尔说。
"Is it the nocturnal tomorrow?"
“明天夜场？”
"That's it.I figured if I had just one good pic,I could get away with it."
“没错。我想只要我有个好长矛手，就能应付了。”
"How much are you getting?"
“你能拿多少报酬？”
"Three hundred pesetas."
“三百比塞塔。”
"I get more than that for pic—ing."
“我扎牛还比这拿得多呢。”
"I know,"said Manuel."I didn't have any right to ask you."
“我知道，”曼努埃尔说，“我没有任何权利要求你。”
"What do you keep on doing it for?"Zurito asked.
“你为什么还在干这行？”舒里托问道。
"Why don't you cut off your coleta,Manolo?"
“为什么不剪掉你的辫子，马诺洛？”
"I don't know,"Manuel said.
“我不知道。”曼努埃尔答道。
"You're pretty near as old as I am,"Zurito said.
“你差不多和我一样老了。”舒里托说。
"I don't know,"Manuel said."I got to do it.If I can fix it so that I get an even break,that's all I want.I got to stick with it,Manos."
“我不知道，”曼努埃尔说，“我不得不做。如果我能安排好，做到力量相当就好了，我想要的只有这个。我不得不坚持下去，铁手。”
"No,you don't."
“不，你不必做下去的。”
"Yes,I do.I've tried keeping away from it."
“不，我要做下去。我以前试过洗手不干。”
"I know how you feel.But it isn't right.You ought to get out and stay out."
“我知道你是什么感觉。但这样是不对的。你应该摆脱它，再也不要去碰它。”
"I can't do it.Besides,I've been going good lately."
“我做不到。而且，我最近感觉好多了。”
Zurito looked at his face.
舒里托看着他的脸。
"You've been in the hospital."
“你住过院。”
"But I was going great when I got hurt."
“但是我受伤前干得很出色。”
Zurito said nothing.He tipped the cognac out of his saucer into his glass.
舒里托没有接话。他把茶碟里的白兰地倒进玻璃杯。
"The papers said they never saw a better faena,"Manuel said.
“报纸上说他们从没见过比那更出色的斗牛。”曼努埃尔说。
Zurito looked at him.
舒里托看着他。
"You know when I get going I'm good,"Manuel said.
“你知道，我一上手就会干得很漂亮。”曼努埃尔说。
"You're too old,"the picador said.
“你太老了。”长矛手说。
"NO."said Manuel."You're ten years older than I am."
“不。”曼努埃尔说，“你大我十岁呢。”
"With me it's different."
“我跟你不一样。”
"I'm not too old,"Manuel said.
“我还不算太老。”曼努埃尔说。
They sat silent,Manuel watching the picador's face.
他们坐在那里，谁都没有说话。曼努埃尔看着长矛手的脸。
"I was going great till I got hurt,"Manuel offered.
“我受伤前很出色。”曼努埃尔说。
"You ought to have seen me,Manos,"Manuel said,reproachfully.
“你应该来看我斗牛的，铁手。”曼努埃尔的语气中带些责备。
"I don't want to see you,"Zurito said."It makes me nervous."
“我不想看你斗牛。”舒里托说，“那会让我很紧张。”
"You haven't seen me lately."
“你最近都没来看我斗牛。”
"I've seen you plenty."
“我已经看得够多了。”
Zurito looked at Manuel,avoiding his eyes.
舒里托看着曼努埃尔，避开他的目光。
"You ought to quit it,Manolo."
“你该退出了，马诺洛。”
"I can't,"Manuel said."I'm going good now,I tell you."
“我做不到，”曼努埃尔说，“我会干得很好的，真的。”
Zurito leaned forward,his hands on the table.
舒里托身子前倾，手放在桌子上。
"Listen.I'll pic for you and if you don't go big tomorrow night,you'll quit.See?Will you do that?"
“听着。我可以帮你扎牛，但是如果明晚你干得不好的话，你就退出这一行。怎么样？同意吗？”
"Sure."
“没问题。”
Zurito leaned back,relieved.
舒里托向后一倚，舒了一口气。
"You got to quit,"he said."No monkey business.You got to cut the coleta."
“你必须得退出，”他说，“我不是开玩笑。你必须得把辫子剪了。”
"I won't have to quit,"Manuel said."You watch me.I've got the stuff."
“我并不一定要退出，”曼努埃尔说，“你等着看吧。我还很棒呢。”
Zurito stood up.He felt tired from arguing.
舒里托站了起来。他懒得再争了。
"You got to quit,"he said."I'll cut your coleta myself."
“你会退出的，”他说，“我会亲手剪掉你的辫子。”
"No,you won't,"Manuel said."You won't have a chance."
“不，你不会的，”曼努埃尔说，“你不会有机会的。”
Zurito called the waiter.
舒里托叫来了侍者。
"Come on,"said Zurito."Come on up to the house."
“走吧，”舒里托说，“走，上旅馆去。”
Manuel reached under the seat for his suitcase.He was happy.He knew Zurito would pic for him.He was the best picador living.It was all simple now.
曼努埃尔伸手在座位下找他的手提箱。他很高兴。他就知道舒里托会为他扎牛。他是当今最好的长矛手。现在一切都好办了。
"Come on up to the house and we'll eat,"Zurito said.
“到旅馆去，我们要吃点东西了。”舒里托说。
Manuel stood in the patio de caballos waiting for the Charlie Chaplins to be over.Zurito stood beside him.Where they stood it was dark.The high door that led into the bull—ring was shut.Above them they heard a shout,then another shout of laughter.Then there was silence.Manuel liked the smell of the stables about the patio de caballos.It smelt good in the dark.There was another roar from the arena and then applause,prolonged applause,going on and on.
曼努埃尔站在马场上，等着滑稽斗牛结束。舒里托站在他旁边。他们站在黑暗里。那扇通向斗牛场的高门紧闭着。他们听到上面传来一声叫喊，接着是一阵大笑。然后是一片寂静。曼努埃尔喜欢闻马场里的马厩味儿。那味儿在黑暗里很好闻。斗牛场里传来另一波叫喊，接着是喝彩声，经久不息的喝彩声一浪接着一浪。
"You ever seen these fellows?"Zurito asked,big and looming beside Manuel in the dark.
“你见过这些家伙吗？”舒里托问道，他魁梧的身躯挨着曼努埃尔，在黑暗中隐约可见。
"No,"Manuel said.
“没见过。”曼努埃尔说。
"They're pretty funny,"Zurito said.He smiled to himself in the dark.
“他们很滑稽。”舒里托说。黑暗中，他独自微笑。
The high,double,tight—fitting door into the bull—ring swung open and Manuel saw the ring in the hard light of the arc—lights,the plaza,dark all the way around,rising high;around the edge of the ring were running and bowing two men dressed like tramps,followed by a third in the uniform of a hotel bell—boy who stooped and picked up the hats and canes thrown down onto the sand and tossed them back up into the darkness.
通向斗牛场的那两扇高大严实的门打开了，曼努埃尔看到了弧光灯强光照射下的斗牛场。四周是黑压压的观众席，高高地围着斗牛场。两个流浪汉打扮的人沿着斗牛场的边缘边跑边鞠躬，还有一个人穿着旅店侍者的制服跟在后面，弯腰捡起扔在沙地上的帽子和手杖，把它们高高抛向身后黑压压的人群。
The electric light went on in the patio.
马场上的电灯亮起来了。
"I'll climb onto one of those ponies while you collect the kids,"Zurito said.
“你去召集那些伙计，我去骑匹马。”舒里托说。
Behind them came the jingle of the mules,coming out to go into the arena and be hitched onto the dead bull.
他们身后响起了骡子叮叮当当的铃声；这些骡子是去斗牛场上把死牛拖出来的。
The members of the cuadrilla,who had been watching the burlesque from the runway between the barrera and the seats,came walking back and stood in a group talking,under the electric light in the patio.A good—looking lad in a silver—and—orange suit came up to Manuel and smiled.
斗牛助手们刚在围栏和座位之间的过道上看了滑稽斗牛；现在他们走回马场，一起在电灯下站着聊天。一个穿银色和橙色衣服的俊俏小伙子微笑着走到曼努埃尔面前。
"I'm Hernandez,"he said and put out his hand.
“我是埃尔南德斯。”他边说边伸出手。
Manuel shook it.
曼努埃尔握了握他的手。
"They're regular elephants we've got tonight,"the boy said cheerfully.
“我们今晚要斗的牛简直跟大象差不多。”小伙子兴奋地说。
"They're big ones with horns,"Manuel agreed.
“都是些有角的大家伙。”曼努埃尔赞同道。
"You drew the worst lot,"the boy said.
“你抽到了最坏的一批。”小伙子说。
"That's all right,"Manuel said."The bigger they are,the more meat for the poor."
“没关系，”曼努埃尔说，“它们越大，穷人们分到的肉就越多。”
"Where did you get that one?"Hernandez grinned.
“那个人你是从哪儿找来的？”埃尔南德斯咧嘴一笑。
"That's an old one,"Manuel said."You line up your cuadrilla,so I can see what I've got.""You've got some good kids,"Hernandez said.He was very cheerful.He had been on twice before in nocturnals and was beginning to get a following in Madrid.He was happy the fight would start in a few minutes.
“老搭档，”曼努埃尔说，“去让你那些斗牛助手排好队，我看看都有些什么人。”“都是些不错的小伙子。”埃尔南德斯说。他很兴奋。他已经上过两次夜场了，马德里开始有了捧他的人。他很高兴斗牛几分钟后就要开始了。
"Where are the pics?"Manuel asked.
“长矛手呢？”曼努埃尔问。
"They're back in the corrals fighting about who gets the beautiful horses,"Hernandez grinned.
“他们在后面的畜栏里争那些漂亮的马呢。”埃尔南德斯咧嘴笑道。
The mules came through the gate in a rush,the whips snapping,bells jangling and the young bull ploughing a furrow of sand.They formed up for the paseo as soon as the bull had gone through.
几匹骡子从门口冲了进来，在一片纷乱的铃铛声中，赶骡人啪啪地挥动着鞭子；小公牛的尸体在地上犁出一道沟。公牛一过去，他们就列队准备入场了。
Manuel and Hernandez stood in front.The youths of the cuadrillas were behind,their heavy capes furled over their arms.In back,the four picadors,mounted,holding their steel—tipped push—poles erect in the half—dark of the corral."It's a wonder Retana wouldn't give us enough light to see the horses by,"one picador said.
曼努埃尔和埃尔南德斯站在队首。年轻的斗牛助手们站在后面，沉重的披风折叠着搭在胳膊上。后面是四个长矛手，他们骑在马上，手中的钢尖长矛在畜栏昏暗的光线里挺立着。“真奇怪，雷塔纳怎么不把光打亮些，让我们看看这些马啊。”一个长矛手说。