tp.wyrd sisters-第30部分

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　The　kiss　lasted　more　than　fifteen　years。
　Not　even　frogs　can　manage　that。
　The　Fool　drew　back；　his　eyes　glazed；　his　expression　one　of　puzzlement。
　'Did　you　feel　the　world　move？'　he　said。
　Magrat　peered　over　his　shoulder　at　the　forest。
　'I　think　she's　done　it；'　she　said。
　'Done　what？'
　Magrat　hesitated。　'Oh。　Nothing。　Nothing　much；　really。'
　'Shall　we　have　another　try？　I　don't　think　we　got　it　quite　right　that　time。'
　Magrat　nodded。
　This　time　it　lasted　only　fifteen　seconds。　It　seemed　longer。
　
　A　tremor　ran　through　the　castle；　shaking　the　breakfast　tray　from　which　the　Duke　Felmet；　much　to　his　relief；　was　eating　porridge　that　wasn't　too　salty。
　It　was　felt　by　the　ghosts　that　now　filled　Nanny　Ogg's　cottage　like　a　rugby　team　in　a　telephone　box。
　It　spread　to　every　henhouse　in　the　kingdom；　and　a　number　of　hands　relaxed　their　grip。　And　thirty…two　purple…faced　cockerels　took　a　deep　bream　and　crowed　like　maniacs；　but　they　were　too　late；　too　late　。　。　。
　
　'I　still　reckon　you　were　up　to　something；'　said　Granny　Weatherwax。
　'Have　another　cup　of　tea；'　said　Nanny　pleasantly。
　'You　won't　go　and　put　any　drink　in　it；　will　you；'　Granny　said　flatly。　'It　was　the　drink　what　did　it　last　night。　I　would　never　have　put　myself　forward　like　that。　It's　shameful。'
　'Black　Aliss　never　done　anything　like　it；'　said　Nanny；　encouragingly。　'I　mean；　it　was　a　hundred　years；　all　right；　but　it　was　only　one　castle　she　moved。　I　reckon　anyone　could　do　a　castle。'
　Granny's　frown　puckered　at　the　edge。
　'And　she　let　all　weeds　grow　over　it；'　she　observed　primly。
　'Right　enough。'
　'Very　well　done；'　said　King　Verence；　eagerly。　'We　all　thought　it　was　superb。　Being　in　the　ethereal　plane；　of　course；　we　were　in　a　position　to　observe　closely。'
　'Very　good；　your　graciousness；'　said　Nanny　Ogg。　She　turned　and　observed　the　crowding　ghosts　behind　him；　who　hadn't　been　granted　the　privilege　of　sitting　at；　or　partly　through；　the　kitchen　table。
　'But　you　lot　can　bugger　off　back　to　the　outhouse；'　she　said。　'The　cheek！　Except　the　kiddies；　they　can　stay；'　she　added。　'Poor　little　mites。'
　'I　am　afraid　it　feels　so　good　to　be　out　of　the　castle；'　said　the　king。
　Granny　Weatherwax　yawned。
　'Anyway；'　she　said；　'we've　got　to　find　the　boy　now。　That's　the　next　step。'
　'We　shall　look　for　him　directly　after　lunch。'
　'Lunch？'
　'It's　chicken；'　said　Nanny。　'And　you're　tired。　Besides；　making　a　decent　search　will　take　a　long　time。'
　'He'll　be　in　Ankh…Morpork；'　said　Granny。　'Mark　my　words。　Everyone　ends　up　there。　We'll　start　with　Ankh…Morpork。　You　don't　have　to　search　for　people　when　destiny　is　involved；　you　just　wait　for　them　in　Ankh…Morpork。'
　Nanny　brightened　up。　'Our　Karen　got　married　to　an　innkeeper　from　there；'　she　said。　'I　haven't　seen　the　baby　yet。　We　could　get　free　board　and　everything。'
　'We　needn't　actually　go。　The　whole　point　is　that　he　should　e　here。　There's　something　about　that　city；'　said　Granny。　'It's　like　a　drain。'
　
　'It's　five　hundred　miles　away！'　said　Magrat。　'You'll　be　away　for　ages！'
　'I　can't　help　it；'　said　the　Fool。　'The　duke's　given　me　special　instructions。　He　trusts　me。'
　'Huh！　To　hire　more　soldiers；　I　expect？'
　'No。　Nothing　like　that。　Not　as　bad　as　that。'　The　Fool　hesitated。　He'd　introduced　Felmet　to　the　world　of　words。　Surely　that　was　better　than　hitting　people　with　swords？　Wouldn't　that　buy　time？　Wouldn't　it　be　best　for　everybody；　in　the　circumstances？
　'But　you　don't　have　to　go！　You　don't　want　to　go！'
　'That　doesn't　have　much　to　do　with　it。　I　promised　to　be　loyal　to　him…'
　'Yes；　yes；　until　you're　dead。　But　you　don't　even　believe　that！　You　were　telling　me　how　much　you　hated　the　whole　Guild　and　everything！'
　'Well；　yes。　But　I　still　have　to　do　it。　I　gave　my　word。'
　Magrat　came　close　to　stamping　her　foot；　but　didn't　sink　so　low。
　'Just　when　we　were　getting　to　know　one　another！'　she　shouted。　'You're　pathetic！'
　The　Fool's　eyes　narrowed。　'I'd　only　be　pathetic　if　I　broke　my　word；'　he　said。　'But　I　may　be　incredibly　ill…advised。　I'm　sorry。　I'll　be　back　in　a　few　weeks；　anyway。'
　'Don't　you　understand　I'm　asking　you　not　to　listen　to　him？'
　'I　said　I'm　sorry。　I　couldn't　see　you　again　before　I　go；　could　I？'
　'I　shall　be　washing　my　hair；'　said　Magrat　stiffly。
　'When？'
　'Whenever！'
　
　Hwel　pinched　the　bridge　of　his　nose　and　squinted　wearily　at　the　wax…spattered　paper。
　The　play　wasn't　going　at　all　well。
　He'd　sorted　out　the　falling　chandelier；　and　found　a　place　for　a　villain　who　wore　a　mask　to　conceal　his　disfigurement；　and　he'd　rewritten　one　of　the　funny　bits　to　allow　for　the　fact　that　the　hero　had　been　born　in　a　handbag。　It　was　the　clowns　who　were　giving　him　trouble　again。　They　kept　changing　every　time　he　thought　about　them。　He　preferred　them　in　twos；　that　was　traditional；　but　now　there　seemed　to　be　a　third　one；　and　he　was　blowed　if　he　could　think　of　any　funny　lines　for　him。
　His　quill　moved　scratchily　over　the　latest　sheet　of　paper；　trying　to　catch　the　voices　that　had　streamed　through　his　dreaming　mind　and　had　seemed　so　funny　at　the　time。
　His　tongue　began　to　stick　out　of　the　corner　of　his　mouth。　He　was　sweating。
　This　iss　My　Little　Study；　he　wrote。　Hey；　with　a　Little　Study　youe　could　goe　a　Long　Way。　And　I　wishe　youed　start　now。　Iffe　You　can't　leave　yn　a　Cab　then　leave　yn　a　Huff。　Iffthates　too　soone；　thenn　leave　yn　a　minute　and　a　Huff。　Say；　have　you　Gott　a　Pensil？　A　crayon？…
　Hwel　stared　at　this　in　horror。　On　the　page　it　looked　nonsensical；　ridiculous。　And　yet；　and　yet；　in　the　thronged　auditorium　of　his　mind　。　。　。
　He　dipped　the　quill　in　the　inkpot；　and　chased　the　echoes　further。
　Seconde　Clown：　Atsa　right；　Boss。
　Third　Clowne：　＇businesse　with　bladder　on　stick＇　Honk。　Honk。
　Hwel　gave　up。　Yes；　it　was　funny；　he　knew　it　was　funny；　he'd　heard　the　laughter　in　his　dreams。　But　it　wasn't　right。　Not　yet。　Maybe　never。　It　was　like　the　other　idea　about　the　two　clowns；　one　fat；　one　thin　。　。　。　Thys　ys　amain　Dainty　Messe　youe　have　got　me　into；　Stanleigh　。　。　。　He　had　laughed　until　his　chest　ached；　and　the　rest　of　the　pany　had　looked　at　him　in　astonishment。　But　in　his　dreams　it　was　hilarious。
　He　laid　down　the　pen　and　rubbed　his　eyes。　It　must　be　nearly　midnight；　and　the　habit　of　a　lifetime　told　him　to　spare　the　candles　although；　for　a　fact；　they　could　afford　all　the　candles　they　could　eat　now；　whatever　Vitoller　might　say。
　Hour　gongs　were　being　struck　all　across　the　city　and　nightwatchmen　were　proclaiming　that　it　was　indeed　midnight　and　also　that；　in　the　face　of　all　the　evidence；　all　was　well。　Many　of　them　got　as　far　as　the　end　of　the　sentence　before　being　mugged。
　Hwel　pushed　open　the　shutters　and　looked　out　at　Ankh…Morpork。
　It　would　be　tempting　to　say　the　twin　city　was　at　its　best　this　time　of　year；　but　that　wouldn't　be　entirely　correct。　It　was　at　its　most　typical。
　The　river　Ankh；　the　cloaca　of　half　a　continent；　was　already　pretty　wide　and　silt　laden　when　it　reached　the　city's　outskirts。　By　the　time　it　left　it　didn't　so　much　flow　as　exude。　Owing　to　the　accretion　of　the　mud　of　centuries　the　bed　of　the　river　was　in　fact　higher　than　some　of　the　low　lying　areas　and　now；　with　the　snow　melt　swelling　the　flow；　many　of　the　low…rent　districts　on　the　Morpork　side　were　flooded；　if　you　can　use　that　word　for　a　liquid　you　could　pick　up　in　a　net。　This　sort　of　thing　happened　every　year　and　would　have　caused　havoc　with　the　drains　and　sewage　systems；　so　it　is　just　as　well　that　the　city　didn't　have　very　many。　Its　inhabitants　merely　kept　a　punt　handy　in　the　back　yard　and；　periodically；　built　another　storey　on　the　house。
　It　was　reckoned　to　be　very　healthy　there。　Very　few　germs　were　able　to　survive。
　Hwel　looked　across　a　sort　of　misty　sea　in　which　buildings　clustered　like　a　sandcastle　petition　at　high　tide。　Flares　and　lighted　windows　made　pleasing　patterns　on　the　iridescent　surface；　but　there　was　one　glare　of　light；　much　closer　to　hand；　which　particularly　occupied　his　attention。
　On　a　patch　of　slightly　higher　ground　by　the　river；　bought　by　Vitoller　for　a　ruinous　sum；　a　new　building　was　rising。　It　was　growing　even　by　night；　like　a　mushroom　…　Hwel　could　see　the　cressets　burning　all　along　the　scaffolding　as　the　hired　craftsmen　and　even　some　of　the　players　themselves　refused　to　let　the　mere　shade　of　the　sky　interrupt　their　labours。
　New　buildings　were　rare　in　Morpork；　but　this　was　even　a　new　type　of　building。
　The　Dysk。
　Vitoller　had　been　aghast　at　the　idea　at　first；　but　young　Tomjon　had　kept　at　him。　And　everyone　knew　that　once　the　lad　had　got　the　feel　of　it　he　could　persuade　water　to　flow　uphill。
　'But　we've　always　moved　around；　laddie；'　said　Vitoller；　in　the　desperate　voice　of　one　who　knows　that；　at　the　end　of　it　all；　he's　going　to　lose　the　argument。　'I　can't　go　around　settling　down　at　my　time　of　life。'
　'It's　not　doing　you　any　good；'　said　Tomjon　firmly。　'All　these　cold　nights　and　frosty　mornings。　You're　not　getting　any　younger。　We　should　stay　put　somewhere；　and　let　people　e　to　us。　And　they　will；　too。　You　know　the　crowds　we're　getting　now。　Hwel's　plays　are　famous。'
　'It's　not　my　plays；'　Hwel　had　said。　'It's　the　players。'
　'I　can't　see　me　sitting　by　a　fire　in　a　stuffy　room　and　sleeping　on　feather　beds　and　all　that　nonsense；'　said　Vitoller；　but　he'd　seen　the　look　on　his　wife's　face　and　had　given　in。
　And　then　there　had　been　the　theatre　itself。　Making　water　run　uphill　was　a　parlour　trick　pared　to　getting　the　cash　out　of　Vitoller　but；　it　was　a　fact；　they　had　been　doing　well　these　days。　Ever　since　Tomjon　had　been　big　enough　to　wear　a　ruff　and　say　two　words　without　his　voice　cracking。
　Hwel　and　Vitoller　had　watched　the　first　few　beams　of　the　wooden　framework　go　up。
　'It's　against　nature；'　Vitoller　had　plained；　leaning　on　his　stick。　'Capturing　the　spirit　of　the　theatre；　putting　it　in　a　cage。　It'll　kill　it。'
　'Oh；　I　don't　know；'　said　Hwel　diffidently。　Tomjon　had　laid　his　plans　well；　he'd　devoted　an　entire　evening　to　Hwel　before　even　broaching　the　subject　to　his　father；　and　now　the　dwarfs　mind　was　on　fire　with　the　possibilities　of　backdrops　and　scenery　changes　and　wings　and　flies　and　magnificent　engines　that　could　lower　gods　from　the　heavens　and　trapdoors　that　could　raise　demons　from　hell。　Hwel　was　no　more　capable　of　objecting　to　the　new　theatre　than　a　monkey　was　of　resenting　a　banana　p