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教父 The Godfather
作者：马里奥·普佐 (Mario Puzo) [美国]
麦可是柯里昂家族人，是一名“乖乖的大学生”，他的父亲是黑道人物，但因不肯跟其他帮派合作贩卖毒品，险遭暗杀。在谈判时他杀掉了五个帮派的代表和一名警察局长，为了避风头躲到意大利。麦可的大哥被杀。回国后的麦可成为了黑手党新的领袖。
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Amerigo Bonasera sat in New York Criminal Court Number 3 and waited for justice; vengeance on the men who had so cruelly hurt his daughter, who had tried to dishonor her.
亚美利哥·勃纳瑟拉在纽约第三刑事法庭坐着等待开庭，等待对曾经严重地伤害了他的女儿并企图侮辱他的女儿的罪犯实行法律制裁。
The judge, a formidably heavy-featured man, rolled up the sleeves of his black robe as if to physically chastise the two young men standing before the bench. His face was cold with majestic contempt. But there was something false in all this that Amerigo Bonasera sensed but did not yet understand.
法官面容阴森可怕，卷起黑法衣的袖子，像是要对在法官席前面站着的两个年轻人加以严惩似的。他的表情在威严做睨中显出了冷酷，但是，在这一切表面现象的下面，亚美利哥·勃纳瑟拉却感觉到法庭是在故弄玄虚，然而他还不理解这究竟是怎么回事。
"You acted like the worst kind of degenerates," the judge said harshly. Yes, yes, thought Amerigo Bonasera. Animals. Animals. The two young men, glossy hair crew cut, scrubbed clean-cut faces composed into humble contrition, bowed their heads in submission.
“你们的行为同那些最堕落腐化的分子相似，”法官厉声他说。“说得对！说得对！”亚美利哥·勃纳瑟拉心里这样想。“是禽兽！是禽兽！”那两个油头粉面的年轻人表示虔诚悔恨，低垂着头，表示认罪。
The judge went on. "You acted like wild beasts in a jungle and you are fortunate you did not sexually molest that poor girl or I'd put you behind bars for twenty years." The judge paused, his eyes beneath impressively thick brows flickered slyly toward the sallow-faced Amerigo Bonasera, then lowered to a stack of probation reports before him. He frowned and shrugged as if convinced against his own natural desire. He spoke again.
法官继续宣判：“你们的行为很像山林里的野兽，但幸亏你们的兽欲没有伤害到那个可怜的姑娘，不然的话，我就要判你们坐二十年牢。”法官说到这里，把他那双特别引人注目的眼睛向着脸色灰黄的亚美利哥。勃纳瑟拉鬼鬼祟祟地眨了几下，然后俯视他面前的一大堆鉴定报告。他皱皱眉，耸耸肩，好像产生了一种违背他的本来愿望的信念。他接着又说：
"But because of your youth, your clean records, because of your fine families, and because the law in its majesty does not seek vengeance, I hereby sentence you to three years' confinement to the penitentiary. Sentence to be suspended."
“但是，鉴于你们还年轻，鉴于你们历史清白，鉴于你们家庭体面，同时也鉴于法律的严肃性，不在于寻求报复，因此我判处你们在教养院禁闭三年，本判决将缓期执行。”
Only forty years of professional mourning kept the overwhelming frustration and hatred from showing on Amerigo Bonasera's face. His beautiful young daughter was still in the hospital with her broken jaw wired together; and now these two animales went free? It had all been a farce. He watched the happy parents cluster around their darling sons. Oh, they were all happy now, they were smiling now.
亚美利哥·勃纳瑟拉由于受过四十年的送葬职业的熏陶才没有把这种晴天霹雳的打击和这种无法忍受的仇恨形之于色。他那年轻美貌的女儿还躺在医院里，被打裂了的下腭骨用钢丝箍着，而现在这两个臭畜生竟逍遥法外！这场审判是一出彻头彻尾的闹剧。他打量着罪犯的父母聚拢在他们的宠儿的周围。哦，这会儿，他们一个个兴高采烈，喜笑颜开。
The black bile, sourly bitter, rose in Bonasera's throat, overflowed through tightly clenched teeth. He used his white linen pocket handkerchief and held it against his lips. He was standing so when the two young men strode freely up the aisle, confident and cool-eyed, smiling, not giving him so much as a glance. He let them pass without saying a word, pressing the fresh linen against his mouth.
一股悲愤之气，又酸又苦，从勃纳瑟拉的心头涌到了喉咙，穿过紧咬着的牙齿的缝隙溢了出来。他从衣袋里掏出白手绢，紧紧捂在自己的嘴巴上。他就这样站在那儿瞅着那两个年轻人从旁观席座位中间的过道迈着方步，悠哉悠哉地走了过来。趾高气扬，目光冷冰冰，嘴角笑咪咪，对他简直不屑一顾。他眼睁睁瞅着他们过去，忍着一言不发，把新手绢紧紧按在自己的嘴巴上。
The parents of the animales were coming by now, two men and two women his age but more American in their dress. They glanced at him, shamefaced, yet in their eyes was an odd, triumphant defiance.
那两个小畜生的父母，都同他差不多年纪，但衣着带有更多的美国风度，现在也走过来了。他们一个个向他晃了一眼，面部有点难为情的样子，但眼睛里却流露着一种莫名其妙的、洋洋得意的、盛气凌人的神色。
Out of control, Bonasera leaned forward toward the aisle and shouted hoarsely, "You will weep as I have wept -- I will make you weep as your children make me weep" -- the linen at his eyes now. The defense attorneys bringing up the rear swept their clients forward in a tight little band, enveloping the two young men, who had started back down the aisle as if to protect their parents. A huge bailiff moved quickly to block the row in which Bonasera stood. But it was not necessary.
勃纳瑟拉实在忍无可忍了，把身子向着过道一倾，粗声粗气地吼了起来：“我已经流过泪了，你们将来也会像我一样流泪的——你们的儿子害得我流泪，我也要像他们一样整得你们流泪！” 说着他用手绢擦眼泪。那两个年轻人又回头顺着过道往回走。像是要保护他们的父母。被告辩护律师聚作一团，走在最后，催促他们的当事人快朝前走，并把那两个年轻人拦住。一个又高又大的法警急急忙忙走过来，堵住了勃纳瑟拉站的那一排座位的出口。不过，这是不必要的。
All his years in America, Amerigo Bonasera had trusted in law and order. And he had prospered thereby. Now, though his brain smoked with hatred, though wild visions of buying a gun and killing the two young men jangled the very bones of his skull, Bonasera turned to his still uncomprehending wife and explained to her, "They have made fools of us." He paused and then made his decision, no longer fearing the cost. "For justice we must go on our knees to Don Corleone."
亚美利哥·勃纳瑟拉来到美国这几年一直奉公守法。他也因此吃了点甜头。这时，他的头脑给怒火烧得直冒烟，他的头骨被想买一支枪把那两个年轻人干掉的幻想折腾得嘎嘎作响。尽管如此，他还是沉住气，对他那个仍然蒙在鼓里的老婆说：“人家把我们愚弄了。”他说罢就打定了主意，也不惜一切代价了，“要出这口气，我们就得跪下求求考利昂老头子。”
In a garishly decorated Los Angeles hotel suite, Johnny Fontane was as jealously drunk as any ordinary husband. Sprawled on a red couch, he drank straight from the bottle of scotch in his hand, then washed the taste away by dunking his mouth in a crystal bucket of ice cubes and water. It was four in the morning and he was spinning drunken fantasies of murdering his trampy wife when she got home. If she ever did come home. It was too late to call his first wife and ask about the kids and he felt funny about calling any of his friends now that his career was plunging downhill. There had been a time when they would have been delighted, flattered by his calling them at four in the morning but now he bored them. He could even smile a little to himself as he thought that on the way up Johnny Fontane's troubles had fascinated some of the greatest female stars in America.
在洛杉矶一家旅社的一套布置得金碧辉煌的房间里，约翰昵·方檀像一般当丈夫的人一样，喝得酪酊大醉，不能自理。他有气无力地靠在红色长沙发上，手里拿着苏格兰威士忌酒瓶，直接凑在嘴上就喝起来。现在是后半夜四点钟，他醉醺醺地胡思乱想，等他那个婆娘一回来就把她干掉。要是这会儿回来，她性命肯定难保。现在他想去看看前妻，问问自己的亲骨肉怎么样，但又觉得不是时候；想去看看他的朋友，可是因为他的事业现在急转直下，又感到难为情。想当年他要是后半夜四点钟去访问人家，人家会感到高兴，受宠若惊，但是现在他一去，人家就感到讨厌。过去，在他的事业蒸蒸日上的时候，他约翰昵·方檀的突然来访，曾经使美国一些最吃香的女明星欣喜若狂。想到这些，他甚至忍不住要对自己嫣然一笑。
Gulping at his bottle of scotch, he heard finally his wife's key in the door, but he kept drinking until she walked into the room and stood before him. She was to him so very beautiful, the angelic face, soulful violet eyes, the delicately fragile but perfectly formed body. On the screen her beauty was magnified, spiritualized. A hundred million men all over the world were in love with the face of Margot Ashton. And paid to see it on the screen.
他正在对着酒瓶大喝的时候，听到自己的婆娘用钥匙开门，但他还是一个劲地喝，直到她走进屋子，站在他的眼前，他才放下酒瓶。在他看来，她还是那样，非常漂亮：天使般的脸面，深情的紫罗蓝色的眼睛，柔弱得有点娇嫩，但却美得达于极致的身段，在银幕上，她的美给强化了，神化了。全世界有亿万男人都爱上了玛葛特。娅希彤的这张脸。而且，花钱就是为了在银幕上看看这张脸。
"Where the hell were you?" Johnny Fontane asked.
“你刚才究竟是到哪儿去了？”约翰昵·方檀问道。
"Out fucking," she said.
“在外面闲逛嘛，”她答道。
She had misjudged his drunkenness. He sprang over the cocktail table and grabbed her by the throat. But close up to that magical face, the lovely violet eyes, he lost his anger and became helpless again. She made the mistake of smiling mockingly, saw his fist draw back. She screamed, "Johnny, not in the face, I'm making a picture."
她以为他醉得不省人事了，但她估计错了。他从矮桌那边扑过来，卡住她的喉咙。但是一挨近那张具有魔力的脸、那对可爱的紫罗蓝色的眼睛，他的怒气烟消云散了，他又心慈手软了。她看到他的拳头缩了回去，她又不识相地嬉皮笑脸地对着他。她怪声怪气他说：“约翰昵，别往脸上打，我正参加拍一部影片。”
She was laughing. He punched her in the stomach and she fell to the floor. He fell on top of her. He could smell her fragrant breath as she gasped for air. He punched her on the arms and on the thigh muscles of her silky tanned legs. He beat her as he had beaten snotty smaller kids long ago when he had been a tough teenager in New York's Hell's Kitchen. A painful punishment that would leave no lasting disfigurement of loosened teeth or broken nose.
她哈哈大笑。他握起拳头，对准她的胸膛，咚咚地捶起来：她栽倒在地板上，他扑在她的身上。她在呼呼地喘气，他嗅到了她呼出来的香气。他又用拳头在她两只胳膊上，两条大腿的嫩肉上，到处乱捶。他那股劲头，就像他还是十来岁的时候在纽约的打闹场捶打那些小一“点的鼻涕邋遢的小子一样。打得痛，但不打落牙齿，也不打断鼻梁骨，总之不留下诸如此类破相的伤痕。
But he was not hitting her hard enough. He couldn't. And she was giggling at him. Spread-eagled on the floor, her brocaded gown hitched up above her thighs, she taunted him between giggles. "Come on, stick it in. Stick it in, Johnny, that's what you really want."
但是，他还是手下留情的，他下不了手啊。她朝他一个劲地格格地傻笑，她手脚伸展着躺在地板上，把花缎旗袍拉上来露出大腿。她傻笑一阵就挑逗他几句：“快上来，约翰昵，你真正要的也就是这个嘛。”
Johnny Fontane got up. He hated the woman on the floor but her beauty was a magic shield. Margot rolled away, and in a dancer's spring was on her feet facing him. She went into a childish mocking dance and chanted, "Johnny never hurt me, Johnny never hurt me." Then almost sadly with grave beauty she said, "You poor silly bastard, giving me cramps like a kid. Ah, Johnny, you always will be a dumb romantic guinea, you even make love like a kid. You still think screwing is really like those dopey songs you used to sing." She shook her head and said, "Poor Johnny. Goodbye, Johnny." She walked into the bedroom and he heard her turn the key in the lock.
约翰昵·方檀站了起来，他痛恨这个躺在地板上的女人，但她的美却是一种有魔力的盾牌。玛葛特把身子向那边一滚，用一种舞蹈演员所特有的弹力，一跃而起，面对他站着。她像顽童似的一面阴阳怪气地跳跳蹦蹦，一面哼哼卿卿地唱起来：“约翰昵压根儿没有打伤我，约翰昵压根儿没有打伤我。”然后，她板起美丽的面孔，以稍带悲凉的神态念了起来：“你这个可怜愚蠢的小杂种，像小流氓一样把我打得浑身疼痛。哼，约翰昵，你将来永远是一只想入非非的珍珠鸡，不会说话，光会咯咯咯地叫。你甚至谈情说爱也还像个小娃娃，你仍然以为凭你过去唱的那些歌子就可以把女人骗到手。”她不以为然地摇摇头，又说：“可怜的约翰昵。再见，约翰昵。” 她走进卧室，接着他听到了她用钥匙开锁的声音。
Johnny sat on the floor with his face in his hands. The sick, humiliating despair overwhelmed him. And then the gutter toughness that had helped him survive the jungle of Hollywood made him pick up the phone and call for a car to take him to the airport. There was one person who could save him. He would go back to New York. He would go back to the one man with the power, the wisdom he needed and a love he still trusted. His Godfather Corleone.
约翰昵呆坐，在地板上，双手捂住脸。一种病态的、自尊心受了损伤而又束手无策的绝望之感把他压垮了。早年在街头流浪养成了一种死不回头的倔强劲，他凭着这股劲在好莱坞你死我活的斗争中出人头地。此刻，他还是凭着这股劲，振作精神抓起电话筒，叫一辆汽车送他到飞机场去。可以救他的也只有一个人。他要回纽约去。他要回头去找那个具有他所需要的力量和智慧、具有他仍然可以信赖得过的友情的唯一的人——他的教父考利昂。
The baker, Nazorine, pudgy and crusty as his great Italian loaves, still dusty with flour, scowled at his wife, his nubile daughter, Katherine, and his baker's helper, Enzo. Enzo had changed into his prisoner-of-war uniform with its green-lettered armband and was terrified that this scene would make him late reporting back to Governor's Island. One of the many thousands of Italian Army prisoners paroled daily to work in the American economy, he lived in constant fear of that parole being revoked. And so the little comedy being played now was, for him, a serious business.
面包师傅纳佐林像他做的意大利式大面包一样，胀乎乎的却布满了硬皮，现在身上仍然沾满着面粉，愁眉苦脸地望着自己的老伴，那个已经可以结婚了的女儿卡丝琳，和他烤面包的助手恩佐。恩佐早已换上了他那件袖子上有绿字臂章的战俘衣，他现在担心这个场面会拖得他来不及赶到总督岛去汇报。作为成千上万个意大利俘虏之一的他，每天宣誓才能获得假释，在美国经济部门工作。他时时刻刻提心吊胆，生怕假释被撤销。因此，这会儿正在上演着的小喜剧，对他说来事关重大了。
Nazorine asked fiercely, "Have you dishonored my family? Have you given my daughter a little package to remember you by now that the war is over and you know America will kick your ass back to your village full of shit in Sicily?"
纳佐林气势汹汹地问道：“你已经玷辱了我的家庭吧？如今战争已经结束了，你知道美国就要把你这笨驴踢回你们那个西西里的到处是屎尿的村庄里去。我问问你是不是已经给了我女儿一个小包包，让她凭着那个来想念你？”
Enzo, a very short, strongly built boy, put his hand over his heart and said almost in tears, yet cleverly, "Padrone, I swear by the Holy Virgin I have never taken advantage of your kindness. I love your daughter with all respect. I ask for her hand with all respect. I know I have no right, but if they send me back to Italy I can never come back to America. I will never be able to marry Katherine."
恩佐个儿很矮，却长得很结实，一只手按在胸口，像要流泪的样子，但话却说得有板有眼：“老人家，我对童贞圣母发誓：我绝对没有辜负您的好意。我是怀着满腔敬意爱慕你女儿的，我是怀着满腔敬意向她求婚的。我明白我没有这样的权利，不过要是人家把我送回意大利的话，那我就再也无法回到美国来了，我就永远也不能够同卡丝琳结婚了。”
Nazorine's wife, Filomena, spoke to the point. "Stop all this foolishness," she said to her pudgy husband. "You know what you must do. Keep Enzo here, send him to hide with our cousins in Long Island."
纳佐林的老伴斐洛宓娜则是开门见山。“别再这样愚蠢了，”她对自己胖乎乎的丈夫说。“你自己明白你应干些什么。把恩佐留在这儿，让他躲到咱们长岛的亲戚家去。”
Katherine was weeping. She was already plump, homely and sprouting a faint moustache. She would never get a husband as handsome as Enzo, never find another man who touched her body in secret places with such respectful love.
卡丝琳在呜呜咽咽地哭着。她已经在发胖了，不怎么美了，而且上唇模模糊糊地生了一抹小胡子。她永远不可能找到像恩佐这样标致的丈夫了，永远不可能碰到另一个男人在隐蔽的地方怀着充满敬意的爱慕来触摸她的身子了。
"I'll go and live in Italy," she screamed at her father. "I'll run away if you don't keep Enzo here."
“我要到意大利去安家落户，”她冲着她的父亲大叫大嚷起来。“你要是不把恩佐留在这儿，我就要跑。”
Nazorine glanced at her shrewdly. She was a "hot number" this daughter of his. He had seen her brush her swelling buttocks against Enzo's front when the baker's helper squeezed behind her to fill the counter baskets with hot loaves from the oven. The young rascal's hot loaf would be in her oven, Nazorine thought lewdly, if proper steps were not taken. Enzo must be kept in America and be made an American citizen. And there was only one man who could arrange such an affair. The Godfather. Don Corleone.
纳佐林机敏地朝她瞥了一眼，他这个女儿却是个“热情奔放的人”。他早就看到过她在恩佐从她后面挤过去，把热乎乎的面包从炉子里取出来往柜台上的篮子里装的时候，就把她的大屁股趁机在恩佐的前面撞呀擦呀。纳佐林又想到淫猥方面去了；要是不采取适当的措施，这个小流氓的热面包就会钻进她的炉子里去。必须想办法把恩佐留在美国并使他成为美国公民。能够安排这类事的只有一个人——教父，考利昂老头子。
All of these people and many others received engraved invitations to the wedding of Miss Constanzia Corleone, to be celebrated on the last Saturday in August 1945. The father of the bride, Don Vito Corleone, never forgot his old friends and neighbors though he himself now lived in a huge house on Long Island. The reception would be held in that house and the festivities would go on all day. There was no doubt it would be a momentous occasion. The war with the Japanese had just ended so there would not be any nagging fear for their sons fighting in the Army to cloud these festivities. A wedding was just what people needed to show their joy.
上面说到的这些人，还有许许多多别的人，都收到了镌版印制的请帖，要他们参加定于1945年8月最后一个星期六举行的康斯坦脂娅·考利昂小姐的婚礼。新娘的父亲维托·考利昂老头子，虽然现在已经住进长岛的一座大厦，但仍然没有忘记他当年的老朋友和老邻居。招待宴会将在那座大厦举行，庆祝活动将持续一整天，毫无疑问这是一次隆重的活动。对日战争已经结束了，因此不再有那种担心自己的儿子要到军队里去打仗的烦恼了。人们还需要一个庆祝婚礼的机会来表现一下自己欢乐的心情。
And so on that Saturday morning the friends of Don Corleone streamed out of New York City to do him honor. They bore cream-colored envelopes stuffed with cash as bridal gifts, no checks. Inside each envelope a card established the identity of the giver and the measure of his respect for the Godfather. A respect truly earned.
因此，在那天早晨，考利昂老头子的朋友从纽约市内蜂拥而至，来给他道喜。他们都带着奶油色的纸袋，里面塞满了送给新娘的礼钱，装的都是现钞，而不是支票。每个纸袋里都装着一张卡片，上面注明了送礼者的身份和他对教父的一片心意。每分心意教父都当之无愧。
Don Vito Corleone was a man to whom everybody came for help, and never were they disappointed. He made no empty promises, nor the craven excuse that his hands were tied by more powerful forces in the world than himself. It was not necessary that he be your friend, it was not even important that you had no means with which to repay him. Only one thing was required. That you, you yourself, proclaim your friendship. And then, no matter how poor or powerless the supplicant, Don Corleone would take that man's troubles to his heart. And he would let nothing stand in the way to a solution of that man's woe. His reward? Friendship, the respectful title of "Don," and sometimes the more affectionate salutation of "Godfather." And perhaps, to show respect only, never for profit, some humble gift -- a gallon of homemade wine or a basket of peppered taralles -- specially baked to grace his Christmas table. It was understood, it was mere good manners, to proclaim that you were in his debt and that he had the right to call upon you at any time to redeem your debt by some small service.
维托。考利昂老头子这人，对谁都有求必应。他不作空洞许诺，也不提出示弱的借口说什么世界上还有比他更强大的力量在束缚他的手脚。他是不是你的朋友，这也不是必要条件；你就是没有办法报答他，这甚至也无关紧要。但有一件事是必不可少的。那就是你，你本人，宣布对他的友谊。只要做到了这一点，那就不管求助者是多么贫穷或多么软弱，考利昂老头子也会把那个人的苦何放在心上。为了解除这个人的忧愁，他是不会有任何顾忌的。他得到的报答呢？友谊，“老头子”这个尊敬的头衔，还有“教父”这个更加富于感情色彩的称呼，或者，单纯为了表示敬意，而绝对不是小利，还可以来些普普通通的礼物——自家酿的一加仑酒。或者，为了给他的圣诞节餐桌增添风雅而专门烤的一篮子意大利式加胡椒烤饼。双方心照不宣，这仅仅是一种礼貌的表示，表示你欠着他的债，而他也有权随时找你做点什么小事来抵偿这笔债。
Now on this great day, his daughter's wedding day, Don Vito Corleone stood in the doorway of his Long Beach home to greet his guests, all of them known, all of them trusted. Many of them owed their good fortune in life to the Don and on this intimate occasion felt free to call him "Godfather" to his face. Even the people performing festal services were his friends. The bartender was an old comrade whose gift was all the wedding liquors and his own expert skills. The waiters were the friends of Don Corleone's sons. The food on the garden picnic tables had been cooked by the Don's wife and her friends and the gaily festooned one-acre garden itself had been decorated by the young girl-chums of the bride.
现在，在这个大喜日子，他的女儿结婚的日子，维托·考利昂老头子站在长滩家中的门口招呼客人。全都是认识的人，全都是信得过的人，他们中间有很多人走了红运都是沾了老头子的光，在这个亲切的场合可以无拘无束地当面称呼他“教父”。即使在庆祝活动中负责招待的人也都是他的朋友。给客人看酒的人就是个老同事，他的礼物就是整个婚礼所用的酒和他自己纯熟的技术。招待员都是考利昂老头子的几个儿子的朋友。花园里野餐桌上的盛馔也都是老头子的老伴和她的朋友做的。一英亩大的花园到处张灯结彩，给装饰得花花绿绿，整个布置工作也全是由新娘的年轻朋友干的。
Don Corleone received everyone -- rich and poor, powerful and humble -- with an equal show of love. He slighted no one. That was his character. And the guests so exclaimed at how well he looked in his tux that an inexperienced observer might easily have thought the Don himself was the lucky groom.
考利昂老头子接待每一个人——富人和穷人，有权有势的人和默默无闻的人——都一视同仁，都表现出同样的热情，他不怠慢任何人。这就是他的脾气。客人们七嘴八舌他说他穿着晚礼服看上去是如何如何有风度，一个没有经验的人看了，很可能就把老头子本人当作幸运的新郎。
Standing at the door with him were two of his three sons. The eldest, baptized Santino but called Sonny by everyone except his father, was looked at askance by the older Italian men; with admiration by the younger. Sonny Corleone was tall for a first-generation American of Italian parentage, almost six feet, and his crop of bushy, curly hair made him look even taller. His face was that of a gross Cupid, the features even but the bow-shaped lips thickly sensual, the dimpled cleft chin in some curious way obscene. He was built as powerfully as a bull and it was common knowledge that he was so generously endowed by nature that his martyred wife feared the marriage bed as unbelievers once feared the rack.
他三个儿子中有两个陪着他在门口站着。老大，受洗礼时取名叫桑迪诺，但除了他父亲之外，大家都叫他桑儿。年长一点的意大利侨民见了他，总是不以为然地斜着眼；年轻一点的人见了他，总是表示钦佩。桑儿·考利昂，作为意大利裔第一代美国人来说，个儿算是很高的，差不多有六英尺高，加上他那一头浓密的卷发，看上去甚至还要高一些。他的脸是一张绘制粗糙的丘比特型的脸：容貌端正，但上下嘴唇都是弓形，厚敦敦的，左右之间微凹的下巴显得怪里怪气的，样子有点狎邪。他体格强壮得像头公牛：人所共知，他得天独厚，身体好极了，他那个注定该受折磨的妻子一提起入洞房就害怕，就像当年异教徒怕上拉肢刑架一样。
It was whispered that when as a youth he had visited houses of ill fame, even the most hardened and fearless putain, after an awed inspection of his massive organ, demanded double price.
人们在窃窃私语，说他原来年纪轻轻的就逛妓院，即使是变得最麻木的、什么也不怕的老妓女，也会望而生畏，要求付给双倍的价钱。
Here at the wedding feast, some young matrons, wide-hipped, wide-mouthed, measured Sonny Corleone with coolly confident eyes. But on this particular day they were wasting their time. Sonny Corleone, despite the presence of his wife and three small children, had plans for his sister's maid of honor, Lucy Mancini. This young girl, fully aware, sat at a garden table in her pink formal gown, a tiara of flowers in her glossy black hair. She had flirted with Sonny in the past week of rehearsals and squeezed his hand that morning at the altar. A maiden could do no more.
就在这次婚礼宴会上，有几个臀部宽大，嘴也宽大的年轻的娘儿们，都满怀信心地冷静地打量桑儿·考利昂。但是在这个特殊的日子，她们只不过白费心机而已。桑儿·考利昂不顾自己的老婆和三个小孩在场，已经在对他妹妹的伴娘璐西·曼琪妮打主意了。这个年轻姑娘也完全心领神会，坐在花园里的餐桌旁，穿的是粉红色的长礼服，油光油光的黑发上戴着花冠。早在上个星期彩排的时候，她就向桑儿调情，在祭坛上捏他的手。一个姑娘只能做到这一步啊。
She did not care that he would never be the great man his father had proved to be. Sonny Corleone had strength, he had courage. He was generous and his heart was admitted to be as big as his organ. Yet he did not have his father's humility but instead a quick, hot temper that led him into errors of judgment. Though he was a great help in his father's business, there were many who doubted that he would become the heir to it.
他对自己永远也不会成为像他父亲那样的伟人这一点根本不在乎。桑儿·考利昂有的是力量，有的是勇气。然而，他却没有他父亲那种谦虚谨慎的作风；他的脾气急躁、鲁莽，导致他作出了一个又一个错误的判断。对他父亲的事业来说，他是一位得力助手，但仍然有很多人不大相信他会成为继承人。
The second son, Frederico, called Fred or Fredo, was a child every Italian prayed to the saints for. Dutiful, loyal, always at the service of his father, living with his parents at age thirty. He was short and burly, not handsome but with the same Cupid head of the family, the curly helmet of hair over the round face and sensual bow-shaped lips. Only, in Fred, these lips were not sensual but granitelike. Inclined to dourness, he was still a crutch to his father, never disputed him, never embarrassed him by scandalous behavior with women. Despite all these virtues he did not have that personal magnetism, that animal force, so necessary for a leader of men, and he too was not expected to inherit the family business.
二儿子弗烈德里克，通常人们都叫他弗烈特，或弗烈杜，是个乖孩子，每个意大利人都求神拜佛，希望自己也能生一个这样的乖孩子，本分、忠诚，在他父亲跟前呼之即来、挥之即去，三十岁的人了还同父母住在一起。他个儿很矮，长得很结实，样子不漂亮，但也长着这家人同类型的丘比特的脑袋，上面覆着一头卷发，圆圆的脸庞，厚厚的、弓形的嘴唇。他性格倔强，现在仍然是他父亲的左右手，从来没有跟女人搞些见不得人的事，不让外人说闲话，不给他父亲难堪。尽管有这些优点，他却缺少那种作为领袖的人必不可少的魅力和感人的活力，因此他也没有继承父业的希望。
The third son, Michael Corleone, did not stand with his father and his two brothers but sat at a table in the most secluded corner of the garden. But even there he could not escape the attentions of the family friends.
三儿子迈克尔·考利昂没有陪他父亲和两个哥哥站在一起，而是坐在花园里最僻静的角落的一张桌子旁边。即使他坐在那儿，想躲也还是躲不开，家里的亲戚朋友还是要献殷勤地恭维恭维他。
Michael Corleone was the youngest son of the Don and the only child who had refused the great man's direction. He did not have the heavy, Cupid-shaped face of the other children, and his jet black hair was straight rather than curly. His skin was a clear olive-brown that would have been called beautiful in a girl. He was handsome in a delicate way. Indeed there had been a time when the Don had worried about his youngest son's masculinity. A worry that was put to rest when Michael Corleone became seventeen years old.
迈克尔·考利昂是老头子的么儿，是唯一拒不接受那位伟人教诲的孩子。他的脸型不同，不是他兄弟姐妹那样类型的浓眉大眼的丘比特式的脸，他那乌黑发亮的头发是平直的而不是卷曲的。他的皮肤像橄榄那样的淡褐色，若是一个姑娘有这样的皮肤，那简直可以说很漂亮。他娇嫩中显得清秀。老头子还真的一度担心他的么儿是否具有男性特征。等到迈克尔·考利昂长到十七岁，这种担心才烟消云散了。
Now this youngest son sat at a table in the extreme corner of the garden to proclaim his chosen alienation from father and family. Beside him sat the American girl everyone had heard about but whom no one had seen until this day. He had, of course, shown the proper respect and introduced her to everyone at the wedding, including his family. They were not impressed with her. She was too thin, she was too fair, her face was too sharply intelligent for a woman, her manner too free for a maiden. Her name, too, was outlandish to their ears; she called herself Kay Adams. If she had told them that her family had settled in America two hundred years ago and her name was a common one, they would have shrugged.
现在，这个么儿坐在花园的角落，表明他甘愿同父亲与兄妹疏远，在他身旁坐着一个美国姑娘，这个姑娘大家早就听说过，但今天才第一次看到。当然，他以恰如其分的、彬彬有礼的风度，把她介绍给参加婚礼的每一个人，包括他家里的人。她给大家的印象也并不怎么样。她显得大瘦，大白皙；她的脸，以一个女人来说，显得过分狡诈、精明；她的举止，对一个处女来说，显得过分随便；她的名字，在他们听来，也显得洋里洋气；她名叫恺·亚当姆斯。如果她告诉他们说她的祖先是二百年前定居在美国，她的名字是个普普通通的名字，那他们就会耸耸肩。
Every guest noticed that the Don paid no particular attention to this third son. Michael had been his favorite before the war and obviously the chosen heir to run the family business when the proper moment came. He had all the quiet force and intelligence of his great father, the born instinct to act in such a way that men had no recourse but to respect him. But when World War II broke out, Michael Corleone volunteered for the Marine Corps. He defied his father's express command when he did so.
每一个客人都看得出来，老头子对这个老三并不怎么放在心上。迈克尔在战前一度是他的宠儿，是明显地内定了的继承人，等到适当的时机就让他来主持家事。他具有他那个伟大的父亲所特有的于沉静中显示出来的力量和智慧，生来就有一种办起事来使人不得不折服的本领。但是，第二次世界大战爆发之后，他志愿加入了海军陆战队。他是违抗了他父亲的命令去参军的。
Don Corleone had no desire, no intention, of letting his youngest son be killed in the service of a power foreign to himself. Doctors had been bribed, secret arrangements had been made. A great deal of money had been spent to take the proper precautions. But Michael was twenty-one years of age and nothing could be done against his own willfulness. He enlisted and fought over the Pacific Ocean. He became a Captain and won medals. In 1944 his picture was printed in Life magazine with a photo layout of his deeds. A friend had shown Don Corleone the magazine (his family did not dare), and the Don had grunted disdainfully and said, "He performs those miracles for strangers."
考利昂老头子对于压在他头上的政权颇有反感，因而不希望也不打算让自己的么儿子去为这个政权效劳、送死。医生早就贿赂好了，通过后门也私下作了种种安排。为了采取适当措施预防出继漏，也花了很多钱，但是迈克尔已经是二十一岁的人了，要扭转他的任性也是无能为力的。他参军了，在太平洋打仗。他还当上了上尉，得了些奖章。1944年，他的照片登在《生活》杂志上，旁边还附了一段叙述他的战功的说明。有个朋友曾经把那份杂志拿给考利昂老头子看（他家里的人是不敢这样做的），老头子蔑视地哼了一声，说：“他创造奇迹是在为旁人卖命。”
When Michael Corleone was discharged early in 1945 to recover from a disabling wound, he had no idea that his father had arranged his release. He stayed home for a few weeks, then, without consulting anyone, entered Dartmouth College in Hanover, New Hampshire, and so he left his father's house. To return for the wedding of his sister and to show his own future wife to them, the washed-out rag of an American girl.
1945年初，当迈克尔·考利昂因负重伤而从前线退下来疗养的时候，他压根儿不知道那就是他父亲早作了安排才使他退役的。他在家只待了几个星期，然后，不同任何人商量就进了新罕布什尔州汉诺威镇的达特茅斯学院，这样他离开了父亲的家门。这次他回家，一来是为了参加妹妹的婚礼，二来是为了让家里人看看他未来的妻子，一个面容憔悴的微不足道的美国姑娘。
Michael Corleone was amusing Kay Adams by telling her little stories about some of the more colorful wedding guests. He was, in turn, amused by her finding these people exotic, and, as always, charmed by her intense interest in anything new and foreign to her experience. Finally her attention was caught by a small group of men gathered around a wooden barrel of homemade wine. The men were Amerigo Bonasera, Nazorine the Baker, Anthony Coppola and Luca Brasi. With her usual alert intelligence she remarked on the fact that these four men did not seem particularly happy. Michael smiled. "No, they're not," he said. "They're waiting to see my father in private. They have favors to ask." And indeed it was easy to see that all four men constantly followed the Don with their eyes.
迈克尔·考利昂正在把参加婚礼的几个服装特别娇艳的客人的小趣闻讲给恺·亚当姆斯听，用这个办法逗她开心。而她呢，感到这里的人都洋里洋气而流露出来的惊奇神态也把他逗得开心了。还有，她对任何显得稀奇古怪的现象所流露出来的那种浓厚的兴趣，也同样把他逗得入迷了。紧接着，她的注意力就给一小群聚集在装着酒的大木桶周围的人吸引住了。原来这些人就是亚美利哥·勃纳瑟拉，烤面包师傅纳佐林，安多尼·寇普拉，路加·布拉西。她，凭着那敏锐的眼力，一针见血地指出：这四个人看上去是忧心忡忡的。迈克尔会意地笑了。“对，他们有心事，”他说。“他们都在等着私下见我爸爸。他们有事要求他。”真的，也很容易看出来，这四个人老是用目光跟随着老头子。
As Don Corleone stood greeting guests, a black Chevrolet sedan came to a stop on the far side of the paved mall. Two men in the front seat pulled notebooks from their jackets and, with no attempt at concealment, jotted down license numbers of the other cars parked around the mall. Sonny turned to his father and said, "Those guys over there must be cops."
考利昂老头子站在那儿招呼客人的时候，来了辆黑色小鼷鹿牌轿车停在林荫道旁边。前排坐着的两个人从茄克衣袋里掏出记录本，毫不掩饰地公然把停在林荫道附近的汽车的牌照号码一一抄下来。桑儿回过头对他父亲说：“那几个小子肯定是警察。”
Don Corleone shrugged. "I don't own the street. They can do what they please."
考利昂老头子耸了耸肩：“这一条街并不是我私人的。他们要干什么，随他们的便。”
Sonny's heavy Cupid face grew red with anger. "Those lousy bastards, they don't respect anything." He left the steps of the house and walked across the mall to where the black sedan was parked. He thrust his face angrily close to the face of the driver, who did not flinch but flapped open his wallet to show a green identification card. Sonny stepped back without saying a word. He spat so that the spittle hit the back door of the sedan and walked away. He was hoping the driver would get out of the sedan and come after him, on the mall, but nothing happened. When he reached the steps he said to his father, "Those guys are FBI men. They're taking down all the license numbers. Snotty bastards."
桑儿那浓眉大眼的丘比特型的脸庞一下给气得绯红：“那些下贱胚子狗杂种，起码的礼貌也不懂。”他从门口走下台阶，越过林荫道，向着黑轿车停的地方走过去。他把自己愤怒的脸挨近司机的脸；司机呢，一点也不退缩，喀一下子打开皮夹子，把绿色身份证亮给他看。桑儿一声没吭，退了回来。他啐了一口唾沫，唾沫溅到了轿车的后门上，然后扬长而去。他希望司机跳下轿车来追他，但司机毫无动静。他一到台阶跟前，就对自己的父亲说：“那些小子是联邦调查局的。他们把所有的牌照号码都记下来了。那些臭狗崽！”
Don Corleone knew who they were. His closest and most intimate friends had been advised to attend the wedding in automobiles not their own. And though he disapproved of his son's foolish display of anger, the tantrum served a purpose. It would convince the interlopers that their presence was unexpected and unprepared for. So Don Corleone himself was not angry. He had long ago learned that society imposes insults that must be borne, comforted by the knowledge that in this world there comes a time when the most humble of men, if he keeps his eyes open, can take his revenge on the most powerful. It was this knowledge that prevented the Don from losing the humility all his friends admired in him.
考利昂老头子知道他们是什么人。他最亲密、最知己的朋友早就得到通知：来参加婚礼时别坐自己的汽车。虽然他不赞成自己的儿子把愤怒愚蠢地表露了出来，但是动动肝火也有它的好处。它会使那几个不速之客确信：他们的突然到来，对方是没有料到的，没有防备的，因此，考利昂老头子本人并不生气，他早就学乖了。他懂得：社会上常常会有突如其来的侮辱，那是必须忍受的。在这个世界上，常常会出现这样的情况：最微不足道的人，如果他时刻留意的话，总会有机会向那些最不可一世的人报仇雪恨。明白了这个道理，也就心平气和了。正是因为明白这个道理，老头子才从来不丧失那种他所有的朋友都叹服的谦虚谨慎的作风。
But now in the garden, behind the house, a four-piece band began to play. All the guests had arrived. Don Corleone put the intruders out of his mind and led his two sons to the wedding feast.
管它三七二十一，现在屋后的花园里，四人乐队开始吹打起来了。所有的客人都到齐了。考利昂老头子不再把那几个不速之客放在心上，领着两个儿子去参加婚礼宴会了。
There were, now, hundreds of guests in the huge garden, some dancing on the wooden platform bedecked with flowers, others sitting at long tables piled high with spicy food and gallon jugs of black, homemade wine. The bride, Connie Corleone, sat in splendor at a special raised table with her groom, the maid of honor, bridesmaids and ushers. It was a rustic setting in the old Italian style. Not to the bride's taste, but Connie had consented to a "guinea" wedding to please her father because she had so displeased him in her choice of a husband.
巨大的花园里有上千名客人，有些在布满鲜花的木台子上跳舞，有些坐在长长的餐桌旁边，餐桌上高高地堆放着香喷喷的饭菜和装着家里酿的红葡萄酒的加仑酒壶。新娘康妮·考利昂穿得光彩夺目，同新郎、伴娘、女傧相以及招待员一道坐在一张特别加高了的餐桌旁。这种洋溢着乡土气味的安排是古老的意大利遗风。虽然新娘康妮并不喜欢这一套，但因为她在选择丈夫方面已经惹她父亲生气了，所以她只好将就着同意来一个“珍珠鸡”式的婚礼。
The groom, Carlo Rizzi, was a half-breed, born of a Sicilian father and the North Italian mother from whom he had inherited his blond hair and blue eyes. His parents lived in Nevada and Carlo had left that state because of a little trouble with the law. In New York he met Sonny Corleone and so met the sister. Don Corleone, of course, sent trusted friends to Nevada and they reported that Carlo's police trouble was a youthful indiscretion with a gun, not serious, that could easily be wiped off the books to leave the youth with a clean record. They also came back with detailed information on legal gambling in Nevada which greatly interested the Don and which he had been pondering over since. It was part of the Don's greatness that he profited from everything.
新郎卡罗·瑞泽是个混血儿，父亲是西西里人，母亲是意大利北方人。由于接受遗传的原因，他生下来就是淡黄色的头发，蓝蓝的眼睛。他父母都住在内华达州，因为在法律方面出了一点问题他就离开了内华达州。在纽约，他认识了桑儿·考利昂，因而也就认识了他妹妹。当然，考利昂老头子派了几个可靠的朋友到内华达州去了解情况，他们回来汇报说，卡罗跟警方的纠葛是年轻人一时不慎玩枪引起的，不算严重，可以很容易地从档案中一笔勾销，可以让年轻人保持历史清白。他们还带回来了内华达州流行的法律方面投机倒把的详细情况，对这些情况老头子是大有兴趣的，而且一直在认真考虑。老头子的伟大，其中部分原因就是因为他从每一件事情里都捞到了好处。
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