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“不，不，”苏尔伯雷太太想起了奥立弗的老朋友，“诺亚，到邦布尔先生那儿跑一趟，告诉他照直上这儿来，一分钟也别耽搁。别找你的帽子了。要快。你一边跑，一边弄把刀子贴在那只打青了的眼睛上，可以消肿。” Noah stopped to make no reply, but started off at his fullest speed; and very much it astonished the people who were out walking, to see a charity-boy tearing through the streets pell-mell, with no cap on his head, and a clasp-knife at his eye. 诺亚没再多说，立刻以最快速度出发了。这功夫路上的人见到下边的场面准会吓一大跳，一个慈善学校学生没命地从街道上狂奔而去，头上连帽子也没戴，用一把折刀捂在一只眼睛上。 Noah Claypole ran along the streets at his swiftest pace, and paused not once for breath, until he reached the workhouse-gate. Having rested here, for a minute or so, to collect a good burst of sobs and an imposing show of tears and terror, he knocked loudly at the wicket; and presented such a rueful face to the aged pauper who opened it, that even he, who saw nothing but rueful faces about him at the best of times, started back in astonishment. 诺亚以最快速度在大街上狂奔，一口气跑到济贫院门口。他在那儿歇了一两分钟，以便酝酿精彩的抽噎，堆上一脸令人难忘的眼泪与恐惧，然后砰砰砰地冲着小门敲起来。开门的是一个上了年纪的贫民，即便是在他自己的黄金时代里，看到的也只是一张张惆怅哀怨的面孔，可骤然见到这么一副苦脸，也惊得连连后退。 'Why, what's the matter with the boy!' said the old pauper. “唉，这孩子准出了什么事。”老人说道。 'Mr. Bumble! Mr. Bumble!' cried Noah, wit well-affected dismay: and in tones so loud and agitated, that they not only caught the ear of Mr. Bumble himself, who happened to be hard by, but alarmed him so much that he rushed into the yard without his cocked hat, --which is a very curious and remarkable circumstance: as showing that even a beadle, acted upon a sudden and powerful impulse, may be afflicted with a momentary visitation of loss of self-possession, and forgetfulness of personal dignity. “邦布尔先生！邦布尔先生！”诺亚喊了起来，一副失魂落魄的样子，声音又响亮又激动，不光是一下就钻进了邦布尔本人的耳朵里--真巧，他就在附近--还吓得他连三角帽也没顾得上戴，便冲进了院子--这可是一种稀罕而又值得注意的情形，证明哪怕是一名教区干事，在某种突如其来的强力刺激下，也会有一时半会显得张皇失措，并且忘记个人的尊严。 
“喔，先生，邦布尔先生。”诺亚说道，“奥立弗，先生--奥立弗他--” 'What? What?' interposed Mr. Bumble: with a gleam of pleasure in his metallic eyes. 'Not run away; he hasn't run away, has he, Noah?' “什么？什么？”邦布尔先生迫不及待地插了进来，他那金属一般的的眼睛里闪过一道欢乐的光彩。“他该没有逃走吧？诺亚，他没溜掉吧，是不是？” 'No, sir, no. Not run away, sir, but he's turned wicious,' replied Noah. 'He tried to murder me, sir; and then he tried to murder Charlotte; and then missis. Oh! what dreadful pain it is!Such agony, please, sir!' And here, Noah writhed and twisted his body into an extensive variety of eel-like positions; thereby giving Mr. Bumble to understand that, from the violent and sanguinary onset of Oliver Twist, he had sustained severe internal injury and damage, from which he was at that moment suffering the acutest torture. “不，先生，不，溜是没溜，但他发疯了。”诺亚答道，“先生，他想杀死我，接着又想杀夏洛蒂，再往下，就是老板娘了。喔！痛死我啦！这有多痛，您瞧瞧。”说到这里，诺亚把身子扭来绞去，做出各种各样的姿势，跟鳗鱼似的，好让部布尔先生明白，奥立弗·退斯特的血腥暴行造成他严重的内伤，此刻正忍受着最最剧烈的疼痛。 When Noah saw that the intelligence he communicated perfectly paralysed Mr. Bumble, he imparted additional effect thereunto, by bewailing his dreadful wounds ten times louder than before; and when he observed a gentleman in a white waistcoat crossing the yard, he was more tragic in his lamentations than ever: rightly conceiving it highly expedient to attract the notice, and rouse the indignation, of the gentleman aforesaid. 诺亚眼看邦布尔先生完全被自己报导的消息吓呆了，便大叫他被打得遍体鳞伤，声音比刚才大了十倍，更增强了原有的效果。他又看见一位身穿白背心的绅士正从院子里走过，料定自己轻而易举就可以把这位绅士吸引过来，并激起他的义愤。他的哀歌唱得越发凄惨了。 The gentleman's notice was very soon attracted; for he had not walked three paces, when he turned angrily round, and inquired what that young cur was howling for, and why Mr. Bumble did not favour him with something which would render the series of vocular exclamations so designated, an involuntary process? 这位绅士的注意力果真很快就被吸引住了，他刚走了三步，便怒气冲冲地转过身，问那个小杂种在嚎什么，邦布尔先生干吗不给他点颜色瞧瞧，那样一来倒是很可能使这一连串嚎哭弄假成真。 
“先生，这是一个可怜巴巴的免费学校的学生，”邦布尔先生回答，“他差一点惨遭杀害--先生，只差一点点--就被小退斯特杀死了。” 'By Jove!' exclaimed the gentleman in the white waistcoat, stopping short. 'I knew it! I felt a strange presentiment from the very first, that that audacious young savage would come to be hung!' “真有这事？”白背心绅士骤然停住脚步，大声说道，“我早就知道了。从一开始我就觉察到一种奇怪的预兆，那个厚颜无耻的小野人迟早会被绞死。” 'He has likewise attempted, sir, to murder the female servant,' said Mr. Bumble, with a face of ashy paleness. “先生，他还想杀掉家里的女佣呢。”邦布尔先生面如死灰地说。 'And his missis,' interposed Mr. Claypole. “再加上老板娘。”克雷波尔先生插了一句嘴。 'And his master, too, I think you said, Noah?' added Mr. Bumble. “诺亚，你好像说还有老板，是吗？”邦布尔先生添上了一句。 
“不，老板出门去了，要不然他没准已经把他给杀了，”诺亚回答，“他说过想这么干。” 'Ah! Said he wanted to, did he, my boy?' inquired the gentleman in the white waistcoat. “啊？竟然说他想这么干，是不是，我的孩子？”白背心绅士问。 'Yes, sir,' replied Noah. 'And please, sir, missis wants to know whether Mr. Bumble can spare time to step up there, directly, and flog him-- 'cause master's out.' “是的，先生。”诺亚答道，“先生，老板娘想问一声，邦布尔先生能不能匀出时间马上去一趟，抽他一顿--因为老板不在家。” 'Certainly, my boy; certainly,' said the gentleman in the white waistcoat: smiling benignly, and patting Noah's head, which was about three inches higher than his own. 'You're a good boy--a very good boy. Here's a penny for you. Bumble, just step up to Sowerberry's with your cane, and seed what's best to be done. Don't spare him, Bumble.' “当然可以，我的孩子，当然可以，”白背心绅士亲切地微笑起来，在个子比自己还高出三英寸左右的诺亚头上拍了拍，“你是一个乖孩子--一个非常乖的孩子。这个便士是给你的。邦布尔，你这就带上你的藤杖到苏尔伯雷家去，你就看着办好了，邦布尔，别轻饶了他。” 'No, I will not, sir,' replied the beadle. And the cocked hat and cane having been, by this time, adjusted to their owner's satisfaction, Mr. Bumble and Noah Claypole betook themselves with all speed to the undertaker's shop. “我记住了，先生。”干事答道。这功夫，邦布尔先生已经戴上了三角帽，藤杖也整理好了，这两样东西的主人感到很满意，这才与诺亚·克雷波尔一起，直奔苏尔伯雷的棺材铺而来。 
在这一边，局势仍不见好转。苏尔伯雷现在还没回来，奥立弗一个劲地踢着地窖的门，锐气丝毫未减。既然苏尔伯雷太太和夏洛蒂把凶残的奥立弗说得那么可怕，邦布尔先生认为还是先谈判一番，再开门进去为妙。他在外边照着门踢了一脚，以此作为开场白，然后把嘴凑到锁眼上，用深沉而又颇有分量的声音叫了一声： 'Oliver!' “奥立弗！” 'Come; you let me out!' replied Oliver, from the inside. “开门，让我出去！”奥立弗在里边回答。 'Do you know this here voice, Oliver?' said Mr. Bumble. “奥立弗，你听出声音来没有？”邦布尔先生说。 'Yes,' replied Oliver. “听出来了。” 
“先生，你就不怕吗？我讲话的时候，难道你连哆嗦都没打一个，先生？”邦布尔先生问。 'No!' replied Oliver, boldly. “不怕！”奥立弗毅然答道。 An answer so different from the one he had expected to elicit, and was in the habit of receiving, staggered Mr. Bumble not a little. He stepped back from the keyhole; drew himself up to his full height; and looked from one to another of the three bystanders, in mute astonishment. 答话与邦布尔先生所预期的以及他素来得到的相差太大了，他吓了一大跳。他从锁眼跟前退回去，挺了挺身子，惊愕地依次看了看站在旁边的三个人，没有吱声。 'Oh, you know, Mr. Bumble, he must be mad,' said Mrs. Sowerberry.'No boy in half his senses could venture to speak so to you.''It's not Madness, ma'am,' replied Mr. Bumble, after a few moments of deep meditation. 'It's Meat.' “噢，邦布尔先生，您知道，他准是发疯了，”苏尔伯雷太太说道，“没有哪个孩子敢这样跟您说话，连一半也不敢。”“夫人，这不是发疯，”邦布尔沉思了半晌，答道，“是肉。” 'What?' exclaimed Mrs. Sowerberry. “什么？”苏尔伯雷太太大叫一声。
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