The Old Man and the Sea (Excerpt)《老人与海》（节选）

欧内斯特·海明威

The shark was not an accident. He had come up from deep down in the water as the dark cloud of blood had settled and dispersed in the mile deep sea. He had come up so fast and absolutely without caution that he broke the surface of the blue water and was in the sun. Then he fell back into the sea and picked up the scent and started swimming on the course the skiff and the fish had taken.

Sometimes he lost the scent. But he would pick it up again， or just have a trace of it， and he swam fast and hard on the course. He was a very big Mako shark1 built to swim as fast as the fastest fish in the sea and everything about him was beautiful except his jaws. His back was as blue as a sword fish’s and his belly was silver and his hide was smooth and handsome. He was built as a sword fish except for his huge jaws which were tight shut now as he swam fast， just under the surface with his high dorsal fin knifing through the water without wavering. Inside the closed double lip of his jaws all of his eight rows of teeth were slanted inwards. They were not the ordinary pyramid-shaped teeth of most sharks. They were shaped like a man’s fingers when they are crisped like claws. They were nearly as long as the fingers of the old man and they had razor-sharp cutting edges on both sides. This was a fish built to feed on all the fishes in the sea， that were so fast and strong and well armed that they had no other enemy. Now he speeded up as he smelled the fresher scent and his blue dorsal fin cut the water.

When the old man saw him coming he knew that this was a shark that had no fear at all and would do exactly what he wished. He prepared the harpoon and made the rope fast while he watched the shark come on. The rope was short as it lacked what he had cut away to lash the fish.

The old man’s head was clear and good now and he was full of resolution but he had little hope. It was too good to last， he thought. He took one look at the great fish as he watched the shark close in. He might as well have been a dream， he thought2. I cannot keep him from hitting me but maybe I can get him. Dentuso3， he thought. Bad luck to your mother.

The shark closed fast astern and when he hit the fish the old man saw his mouth open and his strange eyes and the clicking chop of the teeth as he drove forward in the meat just above the tail. The shark’s head was out of water and his back was coming out and the old man could hear the noise of skin and flesh ripping on the big fish when he rammed the harpoon down onto the shark’s head at a spot where the line between his eyes intersected with the line that ran straight back from his nose. There were no such lines. There was only the heavy sharp blue head and the big eyes and the clicking， thrusting all-swallowing jaws. But that was the location of the brain and the old man hit it. He hit it with his blood mushed hands driving a good harpoon with all his strength. He hit it without hope but with resolution and complete malignancy.

The shark swung over and the old man saw his eye was not alive and then he swung over once again， wrapping himself in two loops of the rope. The old man knew that he was dead but the shark would not accept it. Then， on his back， with his tail lashing and his jaws clicking， the shark plowed over the water as a speed-boat does. The water was white where his tail beat it and three quarters of his body was clear above the water when the rope came taut， shivered， and then snapped. The shark lay quietly for a little while on the surface and the old man watched him. Then he went down very slowly.

“He took about forty pounds，” the old man said aloud. He took my harpoon too and all the rope， he thought， and now my fish bleeds again and there will be others.

He did not like to look at the fish anymore since he had been mutilated. When the fish had been hit it was as though he himself were hit.

But I killed the shark that hit my fish， he thought. And he was the biggest dentuso that I have ever seen. And God knows that I have seen big ones.

It was too good to last， he thought. I wish it had been a dream now and that I had never hooked the fish and was alone in bed on the newspapers.

“But man is not made for defeat，” he said. “A man can be destroyed but not defeated.”4 I am sorry that I killed the fish though， he thought. Now the bad time is coming and I do not even have the harpoon. The dentuso is cruel and able and strong and intelligent. But I was more intelligent than he was. Perhaps not， he thought. Perhaps I was only better armed.

“Don’t think， old man，” he said aloud. “Sail on this course and take it when it comes.”

But I must think， he thought. Because it is all I have left. That and baseball. I wonder how the great DiMaggio5 would have liked the way I hit him in the brain？ It was no great thing， he thought. Any man could do it. But do you think my hands were as great a handicap as the bone spurs？ I cannot know. I never had anything wrong with my heel except the time the sting ray stung it when I stepped on him when swimming and paralyzed the lower leg and made the unbearable pain.

“Think about something cheerful， old man，” he said. “Every minute now you are closer to home. You sail lighter for the loss of forty pounds.”

He knew quite well the pattern of what could happen when he reached the inner part of the current. But there was nothing to be done now.

“Yes there is，” he said aloud. “I can lash my knife to the butt of one of the oars.”

So he did that with the tiller under his arm and the sheet of the sail under his foot.

“Now，” he said， “I am still an old man. But I am not unarmed.”

The breeze was fresh now and he sailed on well. He watched only the forward part of the fish and some of his hope returned.

It is silly not to hope， he thought.

这条鲨鱼的出现不是偶然的。当一大片暗黑色的血在一英里深的海里下沉、扩散的时候，它就从深水底下蹿上来了。它蹿得很快，完全无所顾忌，哗的一声冲出蓝色的水面，来到了阳光里。接着它又落进海里，嗅到了臭迹，就顺着船和鱼所走的路线游来。

有时候它迷失了那臭迹。但是它总会重新嗅到，或者只嗅到一点点臭迹，然后就迅疾地紧追上去。这是一条巨大的灰鲭鲨，天生就能游得跟海里最快的鱼一样快，浑身除了上下颚以外，处处都很优美。它的背像剑鱼的一样蓝，肚子是银白色的，皮又光滑又漂亮。它长得像剑鱼一样，所不同的是它那巨大的两颚，眼下它就在水面下迅疾地游着，双颚紧闭，高耸的背鳍像刀子一般划破水面，丝毫也不晃动。在它紧闭的双唇里，八排牙齿全都向内倾斜。跟大多数鲨鱼不同，它的牙齿不是角锥形的。从形状来看，这些牙就像人蜷成爪状的手指。它们几乎跟老人的手指一样长，两边都有剃刀般锋利的刃子。这种鱼天生要吃海里所有的鱼，尽管那些鱼游得那么快，长得那么壮，装备那么齐全，以至于没有任何别的对手。这时它嗅出了新的臭迹，加快游起来，蓝色的背鳍划开了水面。

老人一见它来了，就知道它是一条毫不畏惧、为所欲为的鲨鱼。他准备好了鱼叉，把绳子系紧，一面瞅着那鲨鱼游向前来。绳子短了，缺了他割下用来绑鱼的那一段。

这时老人的头脑清醒好使，决心也大，但是不抱多少希望。好景不长，他想。他瞅着鲨鱼逼近的时候，望了望那条大鱼。这是一场梦就好了，他想。我没法阻止它来袭击我，但是也许我能弄死它。dentuso，他想。让你妈倒霉去吧。

鲨鱼飞速地逼近船尾，它袭击大鱼的时候，老人看见它张开了嘴，一双眼睛好奇异，牙齿咔嚓一聲朝鱼尾上方的肉猛咬进去。鲨鱼的头钻出了水面，背也露出水来，老人听见鲨鱼撕开大鱼皮肉的声音，便用鱼叉朝下猛地扎进鲨鱼的脑袋，正扎在两眼之间的那条线和从鼻子笔直通到脑后的那条线的交叉点上。其实并不存在这两条线。只有那又粗又尖的蓝色脑袋，两只大眼睛，和那咔嚓作响、伸得长长的、吞噬一切的两颚。不过那正是脑子的所在，老人刺了个正着。他使出全身力气，用沾满鲜血的双手，把一支锋利的鱼叉扎了进去。他扎下去时并不抱什么希望，但是满怀决心和狠毒。

鲨鱼翻过身来，老人看出它的眼珠已经没有生气了，接着它又翻了个身，身上缠了两圈绳子。老人知道它没命了，可鲨鱼却不肯认输。这时它肚皮朝上，尾巴噼里啪啦扑打着，两颚发出咔嚓咔嚓的响声，像快艇一样划破水面。海水被它的尾巴拍打起一片白浪，它身子的四分之三脱出了水面，这时绳子绷紧了，颤抖着，随即啪地断了。鲨鱼在水面上静静地躺了一会儿，老人瞅着它。然后它就慢慢沉下去了。

“它吃掉了大约四十磅肉。”老人大声说道。它把我的鱼叉也带走了，还有整条绳子，他想，而眼下我的鱼又在淌血，还会有别的鲨鱼来。

他不愿再看这条鱼了，因为它已经给咬得残缺不全了。鱼遭到袭击时，就好像他自己遭到了袭击。

可是我把袭击我这条鱼的鲨鱼给宰了，他想。它可是我见到过的最大的dentuso。天晓得我也见过不少大鱼呢。

好景不长，他想。但愿这是一场梦，但愿我压根儿没钓到这条鱼，正独自垫着报纸躺在床上。

“不过人不是生来要给打败的，”他说，“人尽可被毁灭，但不可被打败。”不过我很难过，把这条鱼给杀死了，他想。现在倒霉的时刻快到了，可我连鱼叉也没有。这条dentuso又残忍，又能干，又强壮，又聪明。但是我比它更聪明。也许不是这样，他想。也许我仅仅是装备比它强。

“别想啦，老家伙，”他大声说道，“顺着这条航线行驶吧，有了事情就担当着。”

但是我一定要想，他想。因为我只剩下这件事可干了。这件事，还有棒球。不知道了不起的迪马乔喜不喜欢我那样扎中它的脑子？这不是什么了不起的事，他想。什么人都做得到。但是，你是不是认为我的手像骨刺一样给我招来很大的麻烦呢？我可说不准。我的脚后跟从没出过毛病，只有一次游泳时踩在一条刺鳐上，脚后跟给扎了一下，小腿就麻木了，痛得受不了。

“想点愉快的事情吧，老家伙，”他说，“每过一分钟，你就离家近一点。丢了四十磅负重，船行驶起来就轻快些了。”

他很清楚，等他把船驶进海流中间时，会出现什么情况。可是眼下一点办法也没有。

“不，有办法，”他大声说道，“我可以把刀子绑在一支桨柄上。”

于是他腋下夹着舵柄，一只脚踩住帆脚绳，把刀子绑在一支桨柄上。

“瞧，”他说，“我依旧是个老头。不过我不是手无寸铁了。”

这时又刮起了清风，船顺利地往前驶着。他只管瞧着鱼的前半身，又恢复了一点希望。

不抱希望才蠢哪，他想。