(三)
“你想睡,不下雨也行,你是当家的,谁能管你?”有人说。老白翘一翘下巴,指指他的屋里的[1]。因为自己有个偷懒爱睡的小毛病,白玉山有点害怕他媳妇。因为他媳妇又勤俭,又能干,炕上剪子,地下镰刀,都是利落手[2]。铲地收秋,差不离[3]的男子照她还差呢。就因为这样,就因为自己有缺点,又找不出娘们[4]的岔子,第一回干仗[5],他干输了。第二回,第三回,往后好多回,白玉山心怯,总干不过她,久后成了习惯了。有一天,大伙闲唠嗑[6],一个狗蹦子[7]说道:
“我说,咱们谁怕娘们呐?”
另一个人说:
“别不吱声[8]装好人,谁怕谁应声。”
白玉山蹲在炕梢,正用废报纸卷烟卷,一声不吱。
注:
[7]狗蹦子:狗身上的跳蚤,比喻上蹿下跳的捣蛋鬼。
译文1:
“If you like, you can sleep, rain or shine. Who can control you? ‘You’re your own master,” somebody once said. Hearing this, Pai jerked his chin towards the inner room where his wife was. He was a little afraid of his wife because he was lazy and drowsy, while she was able and industrious, a good hand at the scissors while sitting on the kang, and a better hand at the sickle while working in the field. In mowing and harvesting she yielded to no man in strength and skill. Because of her ability to get things done and his own inability to pick bones with her, Pai was defeated in the first battle he fought with her. Whenever he tried to recover his prestige, he licked the dust. After several reverses, he dared not try again. He was overpowered.
One day, when Pai and a few friends were chatting together,
a mischievous tongue asked:
“Is there anyone here who is afraid of his wife?”
“Own up. The one who is had better be honest and own up,” another urged.
Squatting on the end of the kang, Pai was silent and began rolling a cigarette.
译文2:
“If you want to sleep, then sleep. Rain or no rain—you're the master here, who’s to stop you?” someone said. Old Bai tilted up his chin and jerked a thumb toward his house. Because of his lazy streak—his fondness for dozing whenever he could—Bai Yushan had always been a little afraid of his wife. She was thrifty, hardworking, sharp in every sense. On the kang, she handled the scissors like a sparrow pecking grain; on the ground, she swung the sickle faster than most men. Come digging or harvest time, there weren’t many fellows who could keep up with her. And because of that—because he knew his own shortcomings, and because he could never find a real fault in her—the first time they quarreled, he lost. The second time, the third time, and all the many times after, Bai Yushan’s heart faltered before hers; he could never best her. In the end, he got used to it. One day, while the villagers were lounging about, shooting the breeze, a fellow nicknamed Dog Bump blurted out,
“I say, which of us is afraid of his wife?”
Another one chimed in,
“Don’t go pretending to be saints now. Whoever’s afraid—say it out loud!”
Bai Yushan was squatting at the corner of the kang, rolling a cigarette out of old newspaper, and said not a word.
译文3:
“If you want to sleep, you don't even need the rain, you're the master of the house, who's going to stop you?” someone said.
Old Bai jutted his chin out, gesturing toward his own room. Bai Yushan was a little afraid of his wife because of his own minor flaw of being fond of idleness and sleep. This was because his wife was both thrifty and capable, a dab hand at everything—scissors on the kang and sickle in the field. When it came to weeding or the autumn harvest, she could outdo most men. It was precisely because of this, and because he had his own shortcomings and couldn't find fault with his woman, that he had lost the first fight. The second time, the third time, and many times after, Bai Yushan felt a dread in his heart and never managed to win against her. In time, it became a habit.
One day, as the group was casually chatting, one of the rascals, a 'Dog-Jumper' piped up:
“Tell me, which one of us is scared of his old woman?”
Another man followed up:
“Don't play mute and pretend you're a good fellow—if you're scared, speak up.”
Bai Yushan was squatting on the edge of the kang, rolling a cigarette with scrap newspaper, and didn't utter a sound.