messer marco polo(马可·波罗)-第6章
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and beat me something cruel； but he was a rare lover； and the mood on
him。 Sure； a woman never knows when she's well off；〃 says she。
And Marco Polo didn't miss them any more nor you'd miss an old
overcoat and the winter past。 All his mind was on was the Golden Bells
of China。 And he thought long until his uncle and father came； so that he
could be off with them to the strange Chinese land。
〃But there's no use to me going there；〃 says he。 〃I couldn't marry her。
She would laugh at me；〃 he says。 〃She； who refused the son of the King
of Siam； with his hundred princes on a hundred elephants； what use would
she have for me； who's no better nor a peddler with his pack？ But it
would be worth walking the world barefoot for to see that little golden
face； to hear the low； sweet voice they call Golden Bells。〃
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They came back in due time； his uncle Matthew； the red； hairy man；
and his father； the thin； dark man； who knew precious stones。 And he told
them he wanted to go with them when they made their next expedition to
China。
〃We could be using you； after your training in trade；〃 says the father。
But Marco Polo would take no interest in barter。 〃Sure； you'd better
come along；〃 says his uncle Matthew。 〃There's great sport to be had on
the road； kissing and courting the foreign women and not a word of
language between you； barring a smile and a laugh。〃
〃I have no interest in the foreign women； Uncle Matthew。〃
〃Then it's the horses you've been hearing about； the fine Arab horses
faster nor the wind； and the little Persian ponies they do be playing polo
on； and the grand Tatar hunters that can jump the heighth of a man； and
they sure…footed as a goat。 Ah； the horses； the bonny horses！〃
〃Ah； sure； Uncle Matthew； 'tis little I know of horses。 Sure； I know
all about boats； racing and trade and war boats； but a horse is not kin to
me。〃
〃Then what the hell's the use of your going to China？〃
〃Ah； sure； that's the question I'm asking myself； Uncle Matthew。 But I
have to go。 I do so。 There is something calling me； Uncle Matthew a
bell in my ear； father's brother； and there's a ringing bell in my heart。〃
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CHAPTER VI
I shall now tell you how it came about that Marco Polo went to China
with his uncle and father； though he had no eye for a bargain； or interest in
courting foreign women； or sense of horses。
Now； as you may know； this was a great religious time。 The
Crusaders； feeling shame that the Sepulchre of the Lord Jesus should be in
Saracen hands； had come with horse； foot and artillery to Palestine to give
tribute of arms to Him who had died for them on the Bitter Tree。 And great
feats were performed and grand battles won。 And kings became saints；
like Louis of France； and saints became kings； like Baldwin of
Constantinople。 Mighty wonders were seen and miracles performed； so
that people said； 〃Now will be the second coming of Christ and the end of
the world。〃
And a great desire came on the Christian people to tell the truth of
Christ to the strange and foreign peoples of the world。 So that every day
out of Jerusalem you would see friars hitting the road； some of them to
confront the wizards of the Land of Darkness； and some to argue theology
with the old lamas of Tibet； and some to convert the sunny Southern
islands； where the young women do be letting down their hair and the men
do be forgetting God for them。 And all over the world there was spreading
a great rumor that the truth of all things was at last known。
Even Kubla Khan had heard of it far off in China； and he had charged
the uncle and father of Marco with a message to the Pope of Rome。 Let the
pope be sending some theologians to his court； and they'd argue the matter
out； and if he was satisfied that this new religion was the True Religion；
then he'd turn Christian and tell his people to turn Christian； too。 And let
them be bringing back some of the Oil of the Lamp which burns in the
Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem and is a cure for all the ills in the world。
And when they came to the City of Acre； sure the pope was dead。 And
they waited a long time； but no new pope was chosen； so they decided to
go back； because they had a good business there； and they didn't want to
lose it。 And yet they knew there'd be trouble with the Grand Khan； if
they didn't bring back the news of the True Religion and people to argue it。
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〃I've been a long time trading；〃 says Nicolo； and it's a queer thing； but
the more trading you do； the less religion you have。 The arguing of
religion would not come easy to me。 And I'd be up against experts。 I'm
not the man for it；〃 says he。 〃How about you； Matthew？〃
〃Oh； sure； they'd never listen to me；〃 Matthew laughs 〃me that's
drank with them； and deludhered their women； and gambled until I left
them nothing but the sweat of their brows。 I'd be a great one to preach
religion to them。 Why； man； they'd laugh at me。 But I tell you what；
Nicolas。 There's a bishop in Negropont； and I know where he lives； and I
know his house and everything。 What do you say； Nicolas？ We'll just
throw a bag over his head and tie him on a horse。 Oh； sure； he'd give
grand discourses to the Great Khan！〃
〃Have sense； Matthew； have sense。 You're always too rough； always
ready to end an argument with a knife； or just lift what you want。 Have
sense； man； you can't kidnap a bishop like you'd kidnap a woman。
〃Well； I don't see why not；〃 says Matthew。 〃It would be easier； too；
because a woman will scratch like a wildcat。 But if you're set against it； I
won't do it；〃 he says。 〃Well； then； how about young Marco？〃
〃My sound man Matthew！ My bully fellow！ Sure you were never
at a loss yet！ Young Marco it is； sure； 'tis the elegant idea。 There's not a
man born of woman better for the job。〃
Now； all the Christian world had gone religious； and young Marco was
no exception； for't is not only the old that are religious。 The young are； too；
but there's a difference。 The religion of old men is reason and translation；
the religion of the young is just a burning cloud。 The Tragedy of the
Bitter Tree is not a symbol to them； but a reality； and their tears are not of
the spirit； but of the body； too。
And there are no half…way houses； no compromises； in a young man's
creed。 It's swallow all； or be damned to you。 It's believe or be lost。
And thinking over the little girl in the Chinese garden； there had come
into Marco's heart； a thought past enduring。 If little Golden Bells did not
believe； then little Golden Bells was lost。 She might have everything in
this world； in this life； an emperor for a father； kings for suitors； a great
poet for a minstrel； a wizard for an entertainer； but once the little blue
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shadow left her body； she was lost forever。 And the sight came to him of
little Golden Bells going down the dim and lonely alleys of death； and
weeping； weeping； weeping。 。 。Her eyes would be shot with panic； and the
little mouth twisted； and the little flowery hands twitching at each other。
And it would be cold there for her who was so warm； and it would be dark
there for her who loved light； and the Golden Bells of her voice would be
lost in the whistling and clanging of the stars as they swung by in their
orbits。 He to be in the great delight of paradise； and she to be in the blue…
gray maze between the worlds what tragedy！
Kings might bring her presents； a husband might bring her happiness；
but if he could only bring her salvation！ If he could only tell her of the
Bitter Tree！
The body； when you came to think of it； mattered little。 All the
beauty in the world could not endure more than its appointed span。 Helen
was dust now； and Deirdre nothing。 What had become of the beauty of
Semiramis； Alexander's darling； and Cleopatra； who loved the great
proconsul； and Bathsheba； for whom David of the Psalms fell from grace？
And Balkis； queen of Sheba； with her apes； ivory； and peacocks？ Dust
and ashes； dust and ashes！ And Scheherazade was but a strange； sad
sound。 Beauty increased and waned like the moon。 A little shadow
around the eyes； a little crinkle in the neck； the backs of the hands
stiffening like parchment。 Dust and ashes； dust and ashes！
But the little blue shadow would glow like an Easter morning。
Or it would be a poor； lonely； unlit shadow in the cold gloom of the
clanging worlds。
Poor Golden Bells！ Poor little weeping Golden Bells！ If he could
only tell her about the Bitter Tree！
And then what happens but his uncle Matthew claps him on the back；
〃How would you like to go to China； Marco Markeen；〃 says he； 〃and
preach religion to the benighted people！〃
〃How did you know； Uncle Matthew？〃
〃How did I know what？〃
〃That I wanted to go to China and preach religion to the the people！〃
〃Well； if that doesn't beat Banagher；〃 says Matthew Polo； 〃and
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Banagher beats the devil！ Tell me； did you ever hear an old tune called
'Bundle and Go！'？〃
And so the three of them leave upon their journey； but at Layas； where
the Ki
