LESSON 56

RIENZI’S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS

里恩齐对罗马人的演说

Mary Russell Mitford, 1786-1855. She was the daughter of a physician, and was born in Hampshire, England. At twenty years of age, she published three volumes of poems; and soon after entered upon literature as a lifelong occupation. She wrote tales, sketches, poems, and dramas. “Our Village” is the best known of her prose works; the book describes the daily life of a rural people, is simple but finished in style, and is marked by mingled humor and pathos. Her most noted drama is “Rienzi.” Miss Mitford passed the last forty years of her life in a little cottage in Berkshire, among a simple, country people, to whom she was greatly endeared by her kindness and social virtues.

I come not here to talk. You know too well

The story of our thraldom. We are slaves!

The bright sun rises to his course, and lights

A race of slaves! He sets, and his last beams

Fall on a slave; not such as, swept along

By the full tide of power, the conqueror led

To crimson glory and undying fame;

But base, ignoble slaves; slaves to a horde

Of petty tyrants, feudal despots, lords,

Rich in some dozen paltry villages;

Strong in some hundred spearmen; only great

In that strange spell,—a name.

Each hour, dark fraud,

Or open rapine, or protected murder,

Cries out against them. But this very day,

An honest man, my neighbor,—there he stands,—

Was struck—struck like a dog, by one who wore

The badge of Ursini; because, forsooth,

He tossed not high his ready cap in air,

Nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts,

At sight of that great ruffian! Be we men,

And suffer such dishonor? men, and wash not

The stain away in blood? Such shames are common.

I have known deeper wrongs; I that speak to ye,

I had a brother once—a gracious boy,

Full of all gentleness, of calmest hope,

Of sweet and quiet joy,—there was the look

Of heaven upon his face, which limners give

To the beloved disciple.

How I loved

That gracious boy! Younger by fifteen years,

Brother at once, and son! He left my side,

A summer bloom on his fair cheek; a smile

Parting his innocent lips. In one short hour,

That pretty, harmless boy was slain! I saw

The corse, the mangled corse, and then I cried

For vengeance! Rouse, ye Romans! rouse, ye slaves!

Have ye brave sons? Look in the next fierce brawl

To see them die. Have ye fair daughters? Look

To see them live, torn from your arms, distained,

Dishonored; and if ye dare call for justice,

Be answered by the lash.

Yet this is Rome,

That sat on her seven hills, and from her throne

Of beauty ruled the world! and we are Romans.

Why, in that elder day, to be a Roman

Was greater than a king!

And once again,—

Hear me, ye walls that echoed to the tread

Of either Brutus! Once again, I swear,

The eternal city shall be free.

【中文阅读】

我来这里不是夸夸其谈。你们太了解

我们这些奴隶的悲惨故事了。我们是奴隶！

阳光依旧明媚，照耀

世世代代的奴隶！他坠下，最后的光栅

落到一位奴隶头上；不像这样掠过

而是这位征服者凭着全部力量，

鲜血将荣誉染成深红色，化成不朽的声望；

但是卑微低贱的奴隶，为一大群小气的专横之人

封建领主和大人们做苦工，

富了一些小村庄哦；

几百个枪兵很强壮；

在那奇怪的符咒里，只有一个伟大的名字。

每一刻，恶毒的欺骗

公开强夺，抑或保护起来的谋杀，

大声反对他们。可是在这特别的一天，

我的邻人，一位诚实的人——站在那儿

吓呆了——就像一条狗，被戴着熊菊徽章的吓了一跳，

因为的确，他将手中的帽子抛得不高，

在屈从的喊声中也没有抬高音调，

见到那大恶棍！我们的人

忍受如此的耻辱？人们

无法清除血中的污点？这样的耻辱那么普遍。

我晓得错误的根源，我会对你说，

我曾经有个兄弟——一个有礼貌的孩子，

气质高贵又和善，宁静致远，

这温和安静的孩子啊——脸上有上帝赐予的神采，

画匠最喜欢这样子。

我多爱

这彬彬有礼的孩子啊！十五岁正值青春年少，

曾经的兄弟，更像是儿子！他离开我身边，

他饱满的双颊绽出夏日之花；

微笑离开他天真无邪的唇间。在短暂的一刻，

那可爱和无辜的男孩被害了！我看到了

尸体，面目全非的尸体，之后我哭喊着

要复仇！醒来吧，罗马人！醒来吧，你们这些被奴役的人！

你们的儿子勇敢吗？瞧接下来激烈的争吵

看他们就要走向死亡。你们的女儿漂亮吗？

看她们是否能活下来，挣脱你们的怀抱，

名誉受损，蒙受耻辱；如果你胆敢呼唤正义，

得到的回答必定是鞭笞。

然而，这是罗马，

坐落在七丘上，她凭依美的宝座

统治整个世界！我们是罗马人。

为什么在那久远的年代成为一名罗马人

要比成为国王更了不起！

再次

听我诉说，那城墙回荡着布鲁图践踏的声音！

再次，我发誓，

永恒的罗马终将获得自由。