Chiuⁿ 9.
9.1 Ūi siáⁿ-mih? Ūi siáⁿ-mih bô thê-khí Ông-chú?
“Lí kám chai, thê-kau hō͘ Kok-hōe tùi Richard III bu̍t-siu kong-khoân ê Hoat-àn, lāi-bīn bô kóng-khí i bô͘-sat nn̄g-ê Ông-chú ê tāi-chì?” Keh-kang chá-khí, Grant mn̄g gōa-kho i-su.
“Chin ê hioh?” gōa-kho mn̄g. “Án-ne chin kî-koài, kám m̄-sī?”
“Hui-siông kî-koài neh. Lí siūⁿ, he boeh án-chóaⁿ kái-soeh?”
“Tāi-khài sī siūⁿ-boeh ah-kē kiàn-siàu tāi. Ūi-tio̍h ka-cho̍k ê miâ-siaⁿ.”
“Kè-sêng ông-ūi ê lâng pēng m̄-sī ka-cho̍k sêng-oân. Richard sī in hit-me̍h ê chòe-āu chi̍t-lâng. Chiap-ūi ê lâng sī Tudor Ông-tiâu ê tē-it lâng, Henry VII.”
“Ah, tio̍h, tong-jiân. Góa soah bē-kì-tit. Góa ê le̍k-sú chū-lâi tō o̍h bô-khí. Góa kòe-khì iōng le̍k-sú khò thau siá tāi-sò͘ siok-tê. Ha̍k-hāu ê le̍k-sú kài bē hông kám-kak chhù-bī. Hoān-sè ke chi̍t-kóa siàu-siōng ē ū pang-chō͘.” I gia̍h-thâu lia̍h hit-tiuⁿ Richard siàu-siōng khòaⁿ chi̍t-ē, jiân-āu kè-sio̍k chìn-hêng choan-gia̍p kiám-cha. “Khòaⁿ sī chin hó, chin khong-kiān, góa chin hoaⁿ-hí án-ne kóng, Taⁿ kám iáu-ū tó-ūi teh thiàⁿ?” Jiân-āu, i kiâⁿ-khui, chhin-chhiat koh khin-sang chū-chāi. i tùi lâng-bīn ū hèng-chhù, in-ūi he sī i choan-gia̍p ê chi̍t pō͘-hūn, tān, le̍k-sú sī i iōng-lâi ta̍t-sêng kî-thaⁿ bo̍k-te̍k ê mi̍h-kiāⁿ, sī khǹg chi̍t-pêng hó-thang siá toh-ē tāi-sò͘ ê mi̍h-kiāⁿ. I chiàu-kò͘ ū oa̍h-miā ê sin-khu kap in ê bī-lâi; i bô ke-gia̍h ê sim-su khì khó-lī ha̍k-su̍t ê būn-tê.
Hō͘-lí-tiúⁿ kāng-khoán, ū khah kip-chhiat ê hoân-ló. Yi hó-lé thiaⁿ Grant kóng i ê khùn-he̍k, tān Grant kám-kak yi ká-ná ē ìn kóng: “Ōaⁿ-chò sī góa, chit-chân tāi góa ē khì mn̄g siā-kang.” Che m̄-sī yi ê tāi-chì. Yi ná chhiūⁿ phang-hiō, koânx khòaⁿ ē-bīn ê phang-siū bô-êng chhihx, ta̍k-hāng to kín-kip koh tiōng-iàu; m̄-thang ǹg-bāng yi ē kā ba̍k-kng tèng tī 400 nî chêng ê tāi-chì.
I siūⁿ boeh kóng: “Tān lín chit-khoán tē-ūi ê lâng, eng-kai tùi ông-sek ê cho-gū ū hèng-chhù; eng-kai koan-sim lín ê miâ-siaⁿ ê chhùi-jio̍k. Bîn-á-chài, êng-á-ōe tō khó-lêng kā lí húi-tiāu.” M̄-koh, i liông-sim put-an, chit-lō bô koan-hē ê tāi-chì kan-ta ē bô iân bô kò͘ tam-gō͘ yi tn̂g sî-kan ê chá-khí sûn-pâng.
Sè-lia̍p Chí m̄-chai siáⁿ sī “Bu̍t-siu Kong-khoân Lēng,” jî-chhiáⁿ yi kin-pún tùi he bô iàu-ì.
“He, í-keng kā lí tîⁿ chiūⁿ-sin ah,” yi àⁿ-thâu hiòng hit-tiuⁿ siàu-siōng kóng. “Án-ne bô kiān-khong neh. Lí ná-m̄ khì tha̍k hiah-ê hó-khòaⁿ ê sió-soat?”
Sīm-chì Marta, Grant pún-lâi chin kî-thāi yi lâi thàm-bōng, hó-thang kā chit-ê kî-koài ê sin bēng-tê kau hō͘ yi, khòaⁿ yi ê hoán-èng; tān sīm-chì Marta, chit-sî tùi Madeleine March kui-sim hùn-nō͘, kin-pún bô teh chhap i.
“Yi bêngx tah-èng kóng yi ē siá hit-ê kio̍k-pún! Keng-kòe só͘-ū goán ê biān-tâm kap góa tùi bo̍k-chêng che tn̂g lóx ê hì kiat-sok liáu ê kè-ōe. Góa sīm-chì kap Jacques thó-lūn kòe ho̍k-chong neh! Á taⁿ, yi soah koat-tēng boeh seng siá yi he khó-phà ê té-phiⁿ cheng-thàm kò͘-sū. Yi kóng yi tio̍h thàn kì-tî iáu sin kín siá – koán i siáⁿ óaⁿ-ko.”
I kō͘ tông-chêng sim thiaⁿ Marta ê oàn-thàn – hó kio̍k-pún sī sè-kài chòe khiàm-khoeh ê siong-phín, hó ê kio̍k-pún chok-ka kùi kah ná pe̍h-kim – m̄-koh che bē-su keh thang-á khòaⁿ mi̍h-kiāⁿ. Kin-á chá tùi i lâi kóng, 15 sè-kí pí Shaftesbury Avenue [hì-kio̍k ke] hoat-seng ê jīm-hô tāi-chì lóng khah chin-si̍t.
“Góa siūⁿ, yi bē khai kài chē sî-kan siá hit-pún cheng-thàm sió-soat,” i án-ne kā an-ùi.
“Oh, bē lah. Yi tāi-khài 6 lé-pài chó-iū tō ē siá hó. Tān, taⁿ yi í-keng lak liān-á ah, góa ná chai-iáⁿ kám ū hoat-tō͘ kā yi khiú tńg-lâi. Tony Savilla ài-boeh yi kā siá chi̍t-chhut Marlborough ê hì, á lí chai Tony chit-ê lâng, it-tàn i koat-sim tō ē án-chóaⁿ. I ē-tàng kā thêng tī Admiralty Arch téng ê hún-chiáu kiò lo̍h-lâi.
Tī yi lī-khui chêng, yi té-chām tńg-lâi kóng “Bu̍t-siu Kong-khoân Lēng” ê būn-tê.
“Tiāⁿ-tio̍h ū bó͘-chióng kái-soeh lah, chhin-ài ê,” yi tī mn̂g-kháu kóng.
Tong-jiân ē ū kái-soeh, i kiông boeh kā tōa-siaⁿ hoah, tān tàu-té sī siáⁿ ah? Che kui-ê tāi-chì oân-choân bô ha̍h chêng-lí. Le̍k-sú ha̍k-ka kóng, bô͘-sat àn ín-khí England pêng-bîn tùi Richard ê hoán-kám kap thòng-hūn. Tō-sī án-ne, in chiah ē hoan-gêng chi̍t-ê chheⁿ-hūn lâng [Henry] lâi chhú-tāi i. Put-jî-kò, tán Richard ê chōe-chn̄g thê-kau hō͘ Kok-hōe ê sî, soah lóng bô thê-khí chit-chân chōe.
Hit-hūn khòng-sò͘ teh gí-tēng ê sî, Richard í-keng sí ah, i ê pō͘-hā m̄-sī tô-bông tō sī hòng-tio̍k; i ê te̍k-jîn ē-tàng chhìn-chhái kā i kòa chōe-miâ. Tān, in bô siūⁿ-tio̍h hit-ê kiaⁿ-lâng ê bô͘-sat.
Ūi siáⁿ-mih?
Thiaⁿ-kóng hit-sî choân-kok in-ūi ông-chú sit-chong ê kiàn-siàu tāi chháx nāux. He sī chòe-kīn ê kiàn-siàu tāi. Tān, i ê te̍k-jîn siu-chi̍p i tùi tō-tek kap tùi Kok-ka ê chōe-chn̄g ê sî, kèng-jiân bô pau-hâm Richard chòe kiaⁿ-lâng ê chhàu-miâ.
Ūi siáⁿ-mih?
Henry túx chē-ūi, kin-ki iáu-bōe ún-tēng, jīm-hô sió a̍h khin ê hó-chhù i lóng su-iàu. I bô choân-kok-tek ê miâ-siaⁿ, mā bô chiàⁿ-thóng ê kè-sêng hiat-iân. Tān, i bô lī-iōng kong-khai Richatd chit-ê chōe-chn̄g lâi tit-tio̍h ah-tó-sèng ê hó-chhù.
Ūi siáⁿ-mih?
I só͘ kè-sêng ê hit-lâng miâ-siaⁿ ke̍k hó, ùi Wales ê Marches kàu Scotland pian-kài, lângx lóng bat i, tī ti̍t-á sit-chong chìn-chêng, i phó͘-phiàn tit-lâng kah-ì, siū-tio̍h chun-kèng. Tān-sī, Henry bô hóx lī-iōng tùi-hù Richard ê ûi-it chin-chiàⁿ ê hoat-pó: he put-khó goân-liōng, hō͘ lâng thòng-hūn ê chōe-hêng.
Ūi siáⁿ-mih?
--
章 9.
9.1 為啥物? 為啥物無提起王子?
“你敢知, 提交 hō͘ 國會 對 Richard III 沒收公權 ê 法案, 內面 無講起 伊謀殺 兩个王子 ê 代誌?” 隔工早起, Grant 問 外科醫師.
“真 ê hioh?” 外科問. “Án-ne 真奇怪, 敢毋是?”
“非常奇怪 neh. 你想, he 欲按怎 解說?”
“大概是 想欲 壓低 見笑代. 為著家族 ê 名聲.”
“繼承王位 ê 人 並毋是 家族成員. Richard 是 in hit 脈 ê 最後一人. 接位 ê 人 是 Tudor 王朝 ê 第一人, Henry VII.”
“Ah, 著, 當然. 我 soah 袂記得. 我 ê 歷史 自來 tō 學無起. 我過去 用歷史課 偷寫 代數宿題. 學校 ê 歷史 kài 袂 hông 感覺趣味. 凡勢 加一寡肖像 會有幫助.” 伊攑頭 掠 彼張 Richard 肖像 看一下, 然後 繼續進行 專業檢查. “看是 真好, 真康健, 我真歡喜 án-ne 講, 今 敢猶有 佗位 teh 疼?”
然後, 伊行開, 親切 koh 輕鬆自在. 伊對 人面 有興趣, 因為 he 是伊專業 ê 一部份, 但, 歷史是 伊用來 達成 其他目的 ê 物件, 是 囥一爿 hó-thang 寫 桌下 代數 ê 物件. 伊照顧 有活命 ê 身軀 kap in ê 未來; 伊無加額 ê 心思 去考慮 學術 ê 問題.
護理長仝款, 有較急切 ê 煩惱. 她 好禮聽 Grant 講 伊 ê 困惑, 但 Grant 感覺 她 ká-ná 會應講: “換做是我, chit 層代 我會去 問社工.” Che 毋是 她 ê 代誌. 她 ná 像蜂后, koânx 看下面 ê 蜂岫 無閒 chhihx, 逐項 to 緊急 koh 重要; 毋通 向望 她會 kā 目光 釘 tī 400年前 ê 代誌.
伊想欲講: “但 恁這款地位 ê 人, 應該 對王室 ê 遭遇 有興趣; 應該關心 恁 ê 名聲 ê 脆弱. 明仔載, 閒仔話 tō 可能 kā 你毀掉.” 毋過, 伊良心不安, chit-lō 無關係 ê 代誌 干焦會 無緣無故 耽誤她 長時間 ê 早起巡房.
Sè-lia̍p Chí 毋知 啥是 “沒收公權令,” 而且 她根本 對 he 無要意.
“He, 已經 kā 你 纏上身 ah,” 她 àⁿ 頭 向 hit 張肖像 講. “Án-ne 無健康 neh. 你那毋 去讀 hiah-ê 好看 ê 小說?”
甚至 Marta, Grant 本來 真期待 她來探望, hó-thang kā 這个 奇怪 ê 新命題 交 hō͘ 她, 看 她 ê 反應; 但甚至 Marta, 這時對 Madeleine March 規心憤怒, 根本無 teh chhap 伊.
“她 bêngx 答應講 她會寫 彼个劇本! 經過所有 阮 ê 面談 kap 我對 目前 che 長 lóx ê 戲 結束了 ê 計畫. 我甚至 kap Jacques 討論過 服裝 neh! Á 今, 她 soah 決定 欲先寫 她 he 可怕 ê 短篇 偵探故事. 她講 她著趁 記持猶新 緊寫 - 管伊 啥碗糕.”
伊 kō͘ 同情心 聽 Marta ê 怨嘆 - 好劇本 是 世界 最欠缺 ê商品, 好 ê 劇本作家 貴 kah ná 白金 - 毋過 che 袂輸 隔窗仔 看物件. 今仔早 對伊來講, 15 世紀 比 Shaftesbury Avenue [戲劇街] 發生 ê 任何代誌 lóng 較真實.
“我想, 她袂 開 kài 濟時間 寫 hit 本 偵探小說,” 伊 án-ne kā 安慰.
“Oh, 袂 lah. 她大概 6 禮拜左右 tō 會寫好. 但, 今 她已經 lak 鍊仔 ah, 我那知影 敢有法度 kā 她 搝轉來. Tony Savilla 愛欲她 kā 寫 一齣 Marlborough ê 戲, á 你知 Tony 這个人, 一旦 伊決心 tō 會按怎. 伊會當 kā 停 tī Admiralty Arch 頂 ê 粉鳥 叫落來.
Tī 她離開前, 她短站 轉來講 “沒收公權令” ê 問題.
“定著有 某種解說 lah, 親愛 ê,” 她 tī 門口 講.
當然 會有解說, 伊強欲 kā 大聲喝, 但 到底是啥 ah? Che 規个代誌 完全 無合情理. 歷史學家講, 謀殺案 引起 England 平民 對 Richard ê 反感 kap 痛恨. Tō-sī án-ne, in 才會歡迎 一个 生份人 [Henry] 來取代伊. 不而過, 等 Richard ê 罪狀 提交 hō͘ 國會 ê 時, soah lóng 無提起 chit 層罪.
彼份控訴 teh 擬定 ê 時, Richard 已經死 ah, 伊 ê 部下 毋是逃亡 tō 是 放逐; 伊 ê 敵人 會當 凊彩 kā 伊 掛罪名. 但, in 無想著 彼个驚人 ê 謀殺.
為啥物?
聽講 彼時 全國 因為 王子失蹤 ê 見笑代 chháx nāux. 彼是最近 ê 見笑代. 但, 伊 ê 敵人 收集伊 對道德 kap 對國家 ê 罪狀 ê 時, 竟然 無包含 Richard 最驚人 ê 臭名.
為啥物?
Henry túx 坐位, 根基 猶未穩定, 任何 小 a̍h 輕 ê 好處 伊 lóng 需要. 伊無 全國 tek ê 名聲, mā 無正統 ê 繼承血緣. 但, 伊無利用 公開 Richatd 這个罪狀 來得著 壓倒性 ê 好處.
為啥物?
伊所繼承 ê 彼人 名聲極好, ùi Wales ê Marches 到 Scotland 邊界, lângx lóng bat 伊, tī 侄仔 失蹤進前, 伊普遍 得人佮意, 受著尊敬. 但是, Henry 無 hóx 利用 對付 Richard ê 唯一 真正 ê 法寶: he 不可原諒, hō͘ 人 痛恨 ê 罪行.
為啥物?
--
9.
9.1
‘Do you know that the Bill attainting Richard III before Parliament didn’t mention the murder of the Princes in the Tower?’ Grant asked the surgeon next morning.
‘Really?’ said the surgeon. ‘That’s odd, isn’t it?’
‘Extremely odd. Can you think of an explanation?’
‘Probably trying to minimise the scandal. For the sake of the family.’
‘He wasn’t succeeded by one of his family. He was the last of his line. His successor was the first Tudor. Henry VII.’
‘Yes, of course. I’d forgotten. I was never any good at history. I used to use the history period to do my home algebra. They don’t manage to make history very interesting in schools. Perhaps more portraits might help.’ He glanced up at the Richard portrait and went back to his professional inspection. ‘That is looking very nice and healthy, I’m glad to say. No pain to speak of now?’
And he went away, kindly and casual. He was interested in faces because they were part of his trade, but history was just something that he used for other purposes; something that he set aside in favour of algebra under the desk. He had living bodies in his care, and the future in his hands; he had no thought to spare for problems academic.
[Pg 118]Matron, too, had more immediate worries. She listened politely while he put his difficulty to her, but he had the impression that she might say: ‘I should see the almoner about it if I were you’. It was not her affair. She looked down from her regal eminence at the great hive below her buzzing with activity, all of it urgent and important; she could hardly be expected to focus her gaze on something more than four hundred years away.
He wanted to say: ‘But you of all people should be interested in what can happen to royalty; in the frailness of your reputation’s worth. Tomorrow a whisper may destroy you.’ But he was already guiltily conscious that to hinder a Matron with irrelevances was to lengthen her already lengthy morning round without reason or excuse.
The Midget did not know what an Attainder was, and made it clear that she did not care.
‘It’s becoming an obsession with you, that thing,’ she said, leaning her head at the portrait. ‘It’s not healthy. Why don’t you read some of those nice books?’
Even Marta, whose visit he had looked forward to so that he could put this odd, new proposition to her and see her reaction, even Marta was too full of wrath with Madeleine March to pay any attention to him.
‘After practically promising me that she would write it! After all our get-together and my plans for when this endless thing finally comes to an end. I had even talked to Jacques about clothes! And now she decides that she must write one of her awful little detective stories. She says she must write it while it is fresh—whatever that is.’
He listened to Marta’s grieving with sympathy—good plays were the scarcest commodity in the world[Pg 119] and good playwrights worth their weight in platinum—but it was like watching something through a window. The fifteenth century was more actual to him this morning than any on-goings in Shaftesbury Avenue.
‘I don’t suppose it will take her long to write her detective book,’ he said comfortingly.
‘Oh, no. She does them in six weeks or so. But now that she’s off the chain how do I know that I’ll ever get her on again. Tony Savilla wants her to write a Marlborough play for him, and you know what Tony is when he sets his heart on something. He’d talk the pigeons off the Admiralty Arch.’
She came back to the Attainder problem, briefly, before she took her leave.
‘There’s sure to be some explanation, my dear,’ she said from the door.
Of course there’s an explanation, he wanted to shout after her, but what is it? The thing is against all likelihood and sense. Historians say that the murder caused a great revulsion of feeling against Richard, that he was hated for the crime by the common people of England, and that was why they welcomed a stranger in his place. And yet when the tale of his wrongdoing is placed before Parliament there is no mention of the crime.
Richard was dead when that complaint was drawn up, and his followers in flight or exile; his enemies were free to bring against him any charge they could think of. And they had not thought of that spectacular murder.
Why?
The country was reputedly ringing with the scandal of the boys’ disappearance. The very recent scandal. And when his enemies collected his alleged offences[Pg 120] against morality and the State they had not included Richard’s most spectacular piece of infamy.
Why?
Henry needed every small featherweight of advantage in the precarious newness of his accession. He was unknown to the country at large and he had no right by blood to be where he was. But he hadn’t used the overwhelming advantage that Richard’s published crime would have given him.
Why?
He was succeeding a man of great reputation, known personally to the people from the Marches of Wales to the Scots border, a man universally liked and admired until the disappearance of his nephews. And yet he omitted to use the one real advantage he had against Richard, the unforgivable, the abhorred thing.
Why?
--
No comments:
Post a Comment