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He hated Popé more and more. A man can smile and smile and be a villain.
他越来越恨波培了。一个人能够笑呀笑呀却仍然是个恶棍。
Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain. What did the words exactly mean?
一个不肯悔改的、欺诈的。荒淫的、狠毒的恶棍。那话究竟是什么意思？
He only half knew.
他似懂非懂。
But their magic was strong and went on rumbling in his head, and somehow it was as though he had never really hated Popé before; never really hated him because he had never been able to say how much he hated him.
但却很有魅力，老在他脑袋里轰隆隆震响。不知道为什么，他觉得他以前好像从来没有真正恨过波培；没有真正恨过他，因为他从来说不清对他的恨有多深。
But now he had these words, these words like drums and singing and magic.
可现在他听见了这些咒语，它们像鼓点，像歌声，像魔法。
These words and the strange, strange story out of which they were taken (he couldn't make head or tail of it, but it was wonderful, wonderful all the same) –they gave him a reason for hating Popé; and they made his hatred more real; they even made Popé himself more real.
这些咒语和包含咒语的那个非常奇怪的故事（那故事他虽不大清楚，但照样觉得非常非常精彩），它们给了他仇恨波培的理由，使他的仇恨更真实，甚至使波培也更真实了。
One day, when he came in from playing, the door of the inner room was open, and he saw them lying together on the bed, asleep–white Linda and Popé almost black beside her, with one arm under her shoulders and the other dark hand on her breast, and one of the plaits of his long hair lying across her throat, like a black snake trying to strangle her.
有一天他玩耍回来，内室的门开着，看见他俩一起躺在床上睡着了——雪白的琳妲和她身边的几乎是黑色的波培。波培一只胳臂在她脖子底下，另外一只黑手放在她的乳房上，他的一根长辫子缠在她的喉头，好像是条黑蛇要想缠死她。
Popé's gourd and a cup were standing on the floor near the bed. Linda was snoring.
波培的葫芦和一个杯子放在床边的地面上。琳妲在打鼾。
His heart seemed to have disappeared and left a hole.
他的心仿佛不见了，只剩下了一个空洞。
He was empty. Empty, and cold, and rather sick, and giddy.
他被掏空了，空而且冷，感到很恶心，很晕眩。
He leaned against the wall to steady himself.
他靠在墙上稳住了自己。
Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous …
不肯悔改的、欺诈的、荒淫的……
Like drums, like the men singing for the corn, like magic, the words repeated and repeated themselves in his head.
这话在他的脑袋里重复着，重复着，像嘭嘭的鼓声，像讴歌玉米的歌声，像咒语。
From being cold he was suddenly hot.
他突然从浑身冰凉变得满身燥热。
His cheeks burnt with the rush of blood, the room swam and darkened before his eyes.
他的血液在奔流，面颊在燃烧，屋子在他面前旋转着，阴暗了。
He ground his teeth.
他咬牙切齿。
"I'll kill him, I'll kill him, I'll kill him," he kept saying.
“我要杀死他。我要杀死他，”他不断地说。
And suddenly there were more words.
突然更多的话出现了：
When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed …
等他在酗酒昏睡，或怒不可遏的时候，等他躺在建乱的贪欢的床上的时候……
The magic was on his side, the magic explained and gave orders.
咒语在为他说话，咒语解释了命令，发出了命令。
He stepped back in the outer room.
他退回到外面的屋子。
When he is drunk asleep …
在他酗酒昏睡的时候……
The knife for the meat was lying on the floor near the fireplace.
切肉的刀子就在火炉边的地上。
He picked it up and tiptoed to the door again.
他拣起刀子踮起脚尖回到了门边。
"When he is drunk asleep, drunk asleep …" He ran across the room and stabbed–oh, the blood!
“在他酗酒昏睡的时候，酗酒昏睡的时候……”他冲过房间，一刀刺去，啊，血！
—stabbed again, as Popé heaved out of his sleep, lifted his hand to stab once more, but found his wrist caught, held and–oh, oh!
——又是一刀，波培惊醒了。他举起手又是一刀，手却被抓住了——哦，哦！
—twisted. He couldn't move, he was trapped, and there were Popé's small black eyes, very close, staring into his own.
——被扭开了。他不能动了，逃不掉了。波培的那双黑黑的小眼睛非常逼近地盯着他的眼睛。
He looked away. There were two cuts on Popé's left shoulder.
他把眼睛扭到了一边。波培的左肩上有两个伤口。
"Oh, look at the blood!" Linda was crying.
“啊，看那血！琳妲在叫喊，
"Look at the blood!" She had never been able to bear the sight of blood.
“看那血！”流血的景象从来就叫她受不了。
Popé lifted his other hand–to strike him, he thought.
波培举起了他另一只手——约翰以为他要打他，
He stiffened to receive the blow.
便僵直了身子，准备挨打。
