English,The Da Vinci Code,Chapter 1-3

CHAPTER 1

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Robert Langdon awoke slowly.

A telephone was ringing in the darkness - a tinny, unfamiliar ring. He fumbled for the bedside lamp and turned it on. Squinting at his surroundings he saw a plush Renaissance bedroom with Louis XVI furniture, hand-frescoed walls, and a colossal mahogany four-poster bed.

Where the hell am I?

兰登慢慢醒来。

　　黑暗中电话铃响了起来———一种微弱的、不熟悉的响声。他伸手去摸床头灯，把灯打开。他眯着眼打量了一下环境，发现这是一间文艺复兴风格的豪华卧室，路易十六世的家具，装饰有手工壁面的墙面，还有一张宽大的四柱红木床。

　　我到底是在什么地方？

The jacquard bathrobe hanging on his bedpost bore the monogram: HOTEL RITZ PARIS.

Slowly, the fog began to lift.

Langdon picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Monsieur Langdon?" a man's voice said. "I hope I have not awoken you?"

Dazed, Langdon looked at the bedside clock. It was 12:32 A. M. He had been asleep only an hour, but he felt like the dead.

"This is the concierge, monsieur. I apologize for this intrusion, but you have a visitor. He insists it is urgent."

　　挂在床柱上的提花浴衣上写着：巴黎丽兹酒店。

　　兰登拿起听筒：“您好！”“兰登先生吗？”一个男人的声音问道：“但愿我没有吵醒您！”

　　他睡眼惺忪地看了看床边的钟。午夜12时32分。他刚睡了一个小时，但感觉如昏死过去一般。“我是酒店接待员，先生。打扰您了，很抱歉，但是有位客人要见您。他非坚持说事情非常紧急。”

Langdon still felt fuzzy. A visitor? His eyes focused now on a crumpled flyer on his bedside table.
THE AMERICAN UNIVERSITY OF PARIS
proudly presents
AN EVENING WITH ROBERT LANGDON
PROFESSOR OF RELIGIOUS SYMBOLOGY, HARVARD UNIVERSITY

Langdon groaned. Tonight's lecture - a slide show about pagan symbolism hidden in the stones of Chartres Cathedral - had probably ruffled some conservative feathers in the audience. Most likely, some religious scholar had trailed him home to pick a fight. "I'm sorry," Langdon said, "but I'm very tired and - " "Mais, monsieur,"the concierge pressed, lowering his voice to an urgent whisper. "Your guest is an important man."

兰登还是丈二和尚摸不着头脑。客人？这时他的目光汇聚到床头柜上一页皱皱巴巴的宣传单：巴黎美国大学学术晚会，哈佛大学宗教符号学教授罗伯特?兰登将莅临赐教。

　　兰登哼了一声。今晚的报告———一幅有关隐藏于沙特尔大教堂基石上的异教符号幻灯片很可能呛了哪位保守听众的肺管了。极有可能是有宗教学者上门找碴儿来了。“对不起，我累了，而且……”兰登说。“可是，先生，”接待员赶紧打断了他，压低了声音，急迫地耳语道：“您的客人是位重要人物。”

Langdon had little doubt. His books on religious paintings and cult symbology had made him a reluctant celebrity in the art world, and last year Langdon's visibility had increased a hundred fold after his involvement in a widely publicized incident at the Vatican. Since then, the stream of self- important historians and art buffs arriving at his door had seemed never-ending.

"If you would be so kind," Langdon said, doing his best to remain polite," could you take the man's name and number, and tell him I'll try to call him before I leave Paris on Tuesday? Thank you." He hung up before the concierge could protest.

毫无疑问，他的那些关于宗教绘画和邪教符号学的书使他不太情愿地成了艺术圈子里的名人。去年他与一个在梵蒂冈广为流传的事件有牵连，此后他露面的频率提高了上百倍。打那以后，自认为了不起的历史学家和艺术迷们便似乎源源不断地拥向他家门口。

　　兰登尽量保持礼貌的言语：“麻烦您记下那人的姓名和电话号码，告诉他我在周二离开巴黎前会给他打电话的。谢谢。”接待员还没来得及回话，他便挂上了电话。

 

Sitting up now, Langdon frowned at his bedside Guest Relations Handbook, whose cover boasted: SLEEP LIKE A BABY IN THE CITY OF LIGHTS. SLUMBER AT THE PARIS RITZ. He turned and gazed tiredly into the full-length mirror across the room. The man staring back at him was a stranger - tousled and weary.

You need a vacation, Robert.

兰登坐了起来，对着旁边的客人关系手册蹙着眉头。手册封面上自吹自擂地写道：如婴儿般沉睡在灯火辉煌的城市，酣睡在巴黎里茨。他转过头疲倦地凝视着对面的大镜子。回望着他的是个陌生人，头发乱蓬蓬的，疲惫不堪。

你需要休假，罗伯特。

The past year had taken a heavy toll on him, but he didn't appreciate seeing proof in the mirror. His usually sharp blue eyes looked hazy and drawn tonight. A dark stubble was shrouding his strong jaw and dimpled chin. Around his temples, the gray highlights were advancing, making their way deeper into his thicket of coarse black hair. Although his female colleagues insisted the gray only accentuated his bookish appeal, Langdon knew better.

去年他可损失惨重，憔悴了许多。但他不愿意在镜子里得到证明。他本来锐利的眼睛今晚看起来模糊呆滞。硕大干瘪的下巴上满是黑黑的胡茬儿。在太阳穴周围，花白的毛发显得一天比一天多，正深深地钻进他[奇`书`网]浓密的又粗又黑的头发中。虽然他的女同事们一直说花白的头发使他显得更儒雅，可兰登不[奇`书`网]么想。

If Boston Magazine could see me now.

Last month, much to Langdon's embarrassment, Boston Magazine had listed him as one of that city's top ten most intriguing people - a dubious honor that made him the brunt of endless ribbing by his Harvard colleagues. Tonight, three thousand miles from home, the accolade had resurfaced to haunt him at the lecture he had given.

幸亏波士顿杂志不是现在采访的我。

颇使兰登感到尴尬的是，上个月波士顿杂志把他列进该市十大最引人注目的人，—莫名其妙的荣誉使他不断成为哈佛同事们的首当其冲调笑的对象。

今晚在离家三千英里的地方，他作报告时，[奇`书`网]种赞扬再度出现令他惴惴不安。

"Ladies and gentlemen..." the hostess had announced to a full house at the American University of Paris's Pavilion Dauphine," Our guest tonight needs no introduction. He is the author of numerous books: The Symbology of Secret Sects, The Art of the Illuminati, The Lost Language of Ideograms, and when I say he wrote the book on Religious Iconology, I mean that quite literally. Many of you use his textbooks in class."

The students in the crowd nodded enthusiastically.

女主持人向巴黎美国大学的妃子亭里满满一屋子人宣布道：“女士们，先生们，我们今晚的客人不需要介绍。他写了好多本书，如：《秘密教派符号学》、《光照派的艺术》和《表意符号语言的遗失》等。我说他写了《宗教符号学》一书，其实我也只是知道书名，你们许多人上课都用他的书。”

人群中的学生们拼命点头。

"I had planned to introduce him tonight by sharing his impressive curriculum vitae. However..." She glanced playfully at Langdon, who was seated onstage. "An audience member has just handed me a far more, shall we say... intriguing introduction." She held up a copy of Boston Magazine. Langdon cringed. Where the hell did she get that?

“我本打算通过与大家分享他不凡的履历来介绍他，然而……”，她以调侃的眼神瞥了一眼坐在台上的兰登。“一位听众刚递给我一个……什么呢？……可以说是更有趣的介绍。

她举起了一本波士顿杂志。

兰登缩了缩身子。她到底从哪搞到的[奇`书`网]玩意？

The hostess began reading choice excerpts from the inane article, and Langdon felt himself sinking lower and lower in his chair. Thirty seconds later, the crowd was grinning, and the woman showed no signs of letting up. "And Mr. Langdon's refusal to speak publicly about his unusual role in last year's Vatican conclave certainly wins him points on our intrigue-o-meter." The hostess goaded the crowd. "Would you like to hear more?"

女主持人开始从[奇`书`网]篇空洞的文章中有选择地朗读已选取的片断。兰登感到自己在椅子上越陷越深。三十秒钟后，人们龇着牙笑了起来，而[奇`书`网]女人还没有停下来的意思。“兰登先生拒绝公开谈及去年他在梵帝冈秘密会议上所起的非凡作用，这使人们对他越发产生了兴趣。”女主持人进一步挑逗听众说：“大家想不想多听一些？”

The crowd applauded.

Somebody stop her, Langdon pleaded as she dove into the article again.

"Although Professor Langdon might not be considered hunk-handsome like some of our younger awardees, this forty-something academic has more than his share of scholarly allure. His captivating presence is punctuated by an unusually low, baritone speaking voice, which his female students describe as 'chocolate for the ears.'

 

The hall erupted in laughter.

　但愿能有人让她停下来。兰登默默祈祷道。但她又继续念那篇文章。

　　“虽然兰登教授可能不像有些年轻的崇拜者认为的那样风流倜傥，可这位四十几岁学者却拥有他这个年龄不多见的学术魅力。他只要露面就能吸引许多人，而他那极低的男中音更是使他魅力大增，他的女学生把他的声音描述为“供耳朵享用的巧克力。”

　　大厅内爆发出一阵大笑。

Langdon forced an awkward smile. He knew what came next - some ridiculous line about" Harrison Ford in Harris tweed" - and because this evening he had figured it was finally safe again to wear his Harris tweed and Burberry turtleneck, he decided to take action.

　兰登有些尴尬，只能强装笑脸。他知道她马上又会说出“哈里森·福特穿着哈里斯花格尼”这样不着边际的句话，因为他穿着哈里斯花格尼裤子和博贝利高领绒衣。他原以为今晚终于可以安全地这么穿而不致惹出那样荒谬的说法来。他决定采取措施。

"Thank you, Monique," Langdon said, standing prematurely and edging her away from the podium. "Boston Magazine clearly has a gift for fiction." He turned to the audience with an embarrassed sigh. "And if I find which one of you provided that article, I'll have the consulate deport you."

The crowd laughed.

　　“谢谢您，莫尼卡。”兰登提前站了起来，并把女主持挤下讲台。“波士顿杂志显然非常会编故事。”他转向听众并发出了窘迫的叹息声。“如果我知道你们谁提供了那篇文章，我就请领事把他驱逐出境。”

 

"Well, folks, as you all know, I'm here tonight to talk about the power of symbols ..."

 

The ringing of Langdon's hotel phone once again broke the silence.

Groaning in disbelief, he picked up. "Yes?"

As expected, it was the concierge. "Mr. Langdon, again my apologies. I am calling to inform you that your guest is now en route to your room. I thought I should alert you."

　　不出所料，正是门房接待员。“兰登先生，真抱歉，又打扰您。我打电话是想告诉您，您的客人正在去您房间的路上，我想我应该提醒您一下。”

　　兰登现在一点睡意也没有了。“是你把那个人打发到我房间的？”

　　“抱歉，先生，但像他这样的人……，我想我不敢冒昧地阻止他。”

 

Langdon was wide awake now. "You sent someone to my room?"

"I apologize, monsieur, but a man like this... I cannot presume the authority to stop him." "Who exactly is he?" But the concierge was gone.

Almost immediately, a heavy fist pounded on Langdon's door.

Uncertain, Langdon slid off the bed, feeling his toes sink deep into the savonniere carpet. He donned the hotel bathrobe and moved toward the door. "Who is it?"

　“到底是谁？”

　　但是门房接待员已挂断了电话。

　　话音未落，已有人用拳头重重地敲门。

　　兰登感到一阵不安。他匆忙下床，感到脚趾头深深地陷到地上的萨伏纳里地毯里。他穿上酒店提供的睡衣朝门口走去。“哪一位？”

 

"Mr. Langdon? I need to speak with you." The man's English was accented - a sharp, authoritative bark. "My name is Lieutenant Jerome Collet. Direction Centrale Police Judiciaire."

Langdon paused. The Judicial Police? The DCPJ was the rough equivalent of the U. S. FBI.

Leaving the security chain in place, Langdon opened the door a few inches. The face staring back at him was thin and washed out. The man was exceptionally lean, dressed in an official-looking blue uniform.

"May I come in?" the agent asked.

Langdon hesitated, feeling uncertain as the stranger's sallow eyes studied him. "What is this all about?"

“兰登先生吗？我需要和您谈谈。”对方以尖利的、颇具权威的口吻大声喊道。他说英语有很重的口音。“我是中央司法警察部的杰罗姆·科莱上尉。

　　兰登怔了一下。司法警察？这大致相当于美国的联邦调查局。

　　把安全链放好后，兰登把门开了几英寸宽的小缝。盯着他望的那个人的脸削瘦而苍白。那人极瘦，身着蓝制服，看样子像个当官的。

　　“我可以进来吗？”那特工问道。

　　那陌生人灰黄的眼睛打量着兰登，使他感到局促不安。“到底是怎么回事？”

"My capitaine requires your expertise in a private matter." "Now?" Langdon managed. "It's after midnight." "Am I correct that you were scheduled to meet with the curator of the Louvre this evening?"

Langdon felt a sudden surge of uneasiness. He and the revered curator Jacques Sauniere had been slated to meet for drinks after Langdon's lecture tonight, but Sauniere had never shown up. "Yes. How did you know that?"

"We found your name in his daily planner."

“我们的警务局长在一件私事上需要您发挥一下您的专长。”

　　“现在吗？深更半夜的。”兰登挤出一句话来。

　　“你本打算今晚和卢浮宫博物馆长会面的，是吧？”

　　兰登突然感到一阵不安。他和那位德高望重的博物馆长雅克·索尼埃本来约定在今晚的报告后见一面，小斟一番，可索尼埃根本就没露面。“你怎么知道的。”

　　“我们在他的‘每日计划’中看到了你的名字。”

"I trust nothing is wrong?"

The agent gave a dire sigh and slid a Polaroid snapshot through the narrow opening in the door. When Langdon saw the photo, his entire body went rigid." This photo was taken less than an hour ago. Inside the Louvre."

As Langdon stared at the bizarre image, his initial revulsion and shock gave way to a sudden upwelling of anger. "Who would do this!"

"We had hoped that you might help us answer that very question, considering your knowledge in symbology and your plans to meet with him."

　　“但愿没出什么乱子。”

　　特工沉重地叹了一口气，从窄窄的门缝里塞进一张宝丽莱快照。

　　看了照片，兰登浑身都僵住了。

　　“照片是不足半小时前拍的——在卢浮宫内拍的。”

　　凝望这奇怪的照片，他先是感受到恶心和震惊，继尔感到怒不可遏。

　　“谁竟然干出这种事！”

　　“鉴于你是符号学方面的专家，且你原打算见他，我们希望你能帮助我们回答这个问题。”

Langdon stared at the picture, his horror now laced with fear. The image was gruesome and profoundly strange, bringing with it an unsettling sense of deja vu. A little over a year ago, Langdon had received a photograph of a corpse and a similar request for help. Twenty-four hours later, he had almost lost his life inside Vatican City. This photo was entirely different, and yet something about the scenario felt disquietingly familiar.

The agent checked his watch. "My capitaine is waiting, sir."

　兰登看着照片，既恐惧又担心。那景象奇怪得让人不寒而栗，他有一种不安的，似曾相识的感觉。一年多以前兰登也看到过一具尸体的照片，也遇到了类似的求助。二十四小时后，他险些在梵帝冈城丧了命。这幅照片和那幅完全不同，但情景却是那样相似，使人不安。

　　特工看了看表说：“我 们局长正在等您，先生。”

 

Langdon barely heard him. His eyes were still riveted on the picture. "This symbol here, and the way his body is so oddly..."

"Positioned?" the agent offered.

Langdon nodded, feeling a chill as he looked up. "I can't imagine who would do this to someone."

The agent looked grim. "You don't understand, Mr. Langdon. What you see in this photograph..." He paused. "Monsieur Sauniere did that to himself."

兰登没太听清他说什么。他的眼睛还在盯着那张照片。“这个符号，尸体如此奇怪地……”

　　“放置。”特工接着说道。

　　兰登点了点头，又抬起头来，感觉到有一股逼人的寒气袭来。“这是谁竟会对人干出这< 

< 等事来。”

　　特工似乎面无表情。“您不知道，兰登先生，你在照片上看到的……”，他顿了顿说道，“那是索尼埃先生自己干的。”

 

CHAPTER 2

One mile away, the hulking albino named Silas limped through the front gate of the luxurious brownstone residence on Rue La Bruyere. The spiked cilice belt that he wore around his thigh cut into his flesh, and yet his soul sang with satisfaction of service to the Lord.

Pain is good.

　一英里外，那位叫塞拉斯的白化病人一瘸一拐地走入位于拉布律大街的一座豪华的褐砂石大宅的门口。他束在大腿上的带刺的苦修带扎进了肉里。然而，由于他侍奉了上帝，所以他的灵魂在心满意足地歌唱。

　　疼痛对人有好处。

His red eyes scanned the lobby as he entered the residence. Empty. He climbed the stairs quietly, not wanting to awaken any of his fellow numeraries. His bedroom door was open; locks were forbidden here. He entered, closing the door behind him.

The room was spartan - hardwood floors, a pine dresser, a canvas mat in the corner that served as his bed. He was a visitor here this week, and yet for many years he had been blessed with a similar sanctuary in New York City.

The Lord has provided me shelter and purpose in my life.

　走进大宅时，他红红的眼睛迅速扫视了一下大厅。空无一人。他蹑手蹑脚地上了楼梯，不想吵醒任何一位同伴。他卧室的门开着，因为这里门不许上锁。他了屋进，顺手关了门。

　　房间陈设简单——硬木地板，松木衣橱，拐角处有一张当床用的帆布垫子。这一周他都住在这里。他还算运气，多年来，他一直在纽约市享用着这样的栖身之所。

　　上帝给了我庇护所，为我指出了生存的目的。

Tonight, at last, Silas felt he had begun to repay his debt. Hurrying to the dresser, he found the cell phone hidden in his bottom drawer and placed a call.

"Yes?" a male voice answered. "Teacher, I have returned." "Speak," the voice commanded, sounding pleased to hear from him.

"All four are gone. The three senechaux...and the Grand Master himself."

　　今夜，塞拉斯感到他终于得以回报了上帝。他匆忙走向衣橱，从最底部抽屉里找到藏在里面的手机拨打电话。

　　“喂？”接电话的是个男的声音。

　　“大师，我回来了。”

　　“讲”，那声音命令道，感觉他听到这消息似乎很高兴。

　　“四个全完了。三个执事……再加上那个主事本人。”

There was a momentary pause, as if for prayer. "Then I assume you have the information?" "All four concurred. Independently." "And you believed them?"

"Their agreement was too great for coincidence."

An excited breath. "Excellent. I had feared the brotherhood's reputation for secrecy might prevail." "The prospect of death is strong motivation." "So, my pupil, tell me what I must know."

　对方停了一会，好像是在祷告。“那么，我想你是搞到情报了。”

　　“四个人说的都一样。分别说出的。”

　　“你相信他们？”

　　“他们说的都一样，不可能是巧合。“

　　他听到一阵激动的呼吸声。“好极了。他们一般会严守秘密，他们可是名声在外。我原来还担心他们会保守修土会的秘密而不讲的。”

　　“逼近的死神是会令他们开口的强大动因。”

　　“那么，弟子，快把我该知道的情况告诉我。“

Silas knew the information he had gleaned from his victims would come as a shock. "Teacher, all four confirmed the existence of the clef de voute...the legendary keystone."

 

He heard a quick intake of breath over the phone and could feel the Teacher's excitement. "The keystone.Exactly as we suspected."

塞拉斯知道他从他那几位受害者那里搞到的情报会令人震惊不已。“大师，四个人都证实了拱顶石——那个传奇的拱顶石的存在。”

　　通过电话，他听到对方立刻倒吸了一口气，他能感觉到大师的激动心情。“拱顶石，正如我们原来猜想的一样。”

According to lore, the brotherhood had created a map of stone - a clef de voute...or keystone - an engraved tablet that revealed the final resting place of the brotherhood's greatest secret... information so powerful that its protection was the reason for the brotherhood's very existence. "When we possess the keystone," the Teacher said," we will be only one step away." "We are closer than you think. The keystone is here in Paris." "Paris? Incredible. It is almost too easy." Silas relayed the earlier events of the evening... how all four of his victims, moments before death, had desperately tried to buy back their godless lives by telling their secret. Each had told Silas the exact same thing - that the keystone was ingeniously hidden at a precise location inside one of Paris's ancient churches - the Eglise de Saint-Sulpice.

　　据传，修士会制作了一个石头地图，即拱顶石，或曰塞缝石。这是一块石板，上面雕刻着修士会最大的秘密被隐藏的地方。这秘密太重要了，修士会就是为了保护它而存在。

　　“一旦我们拥有拱顶石，我们离成功就只有一步之遥。”大师道。

　　“我们比你想象的更接近。拱顶石就在巴黎。”

　　“巴黎？真令人难以置信，简直太容易了。”

　　塞拉斯继续描述那晚上早些时候发生的事情：那四们名受害者如何在临死前试图通过告密来买回自己罪恶的生命。每个人对塞拉斯所说都一模一样：拱顶石被巧妙地藏在一个巴黎古教堂——圣叙尔尔皮斯教堂内一个确切的地方。

 

"Inside a house of the Lord," the Teacher exclaimed. "How they mock us!" "As they have for centuries." The Teacher fell silent, as if letting the triumph of this moment settle over him. Finally, he spoke. "You have done a great service to God. We have waited centuries for this. You must retrieve the stone for me. Immediately. Tonight. You understand the stakes."

Silas knew the stakes were incalculable, and yet what the Teacher was now commanding seemed impossible. "But the church, it is a fortress. Especially at night. How will I enter?"

　“就在上帝的圣所内，”大师惊叹道。“他们真会嘲弄我们！”

　　“已好几个世纪了！”

　　大师突然非常肃静，似乎是要让此刻的胜利永驻心间。最后他说：“你侍主有功，做了件了不起的事情。我们已苦等了好几百年。你必须找到那块石板——立刻——就在今夜。你知道这事事关重大。”

　　塞拉斯知道这事至关重要，可大师的命令似乎无法执行。“但那教堂看管甚严。尤其是现在，是夜间，我怎么进去？”

With the confident tone of a man of enormous influence, the Teacher explained what was to be done.

When Silas hung up the phone, his skin tingled with anticipation.

One hour, he told himself, grateful that the Teacher had given him time to carry out the necessary penance before entering a house of God. I must purge my soul of today's sins.The sins committed today had been holy in purpose. Acts of war against the enemies of God had been committed for centuries. Forgiveness was assured.

　大师以有着重大影响力人物的口吻开始面授机宜。

　　塞拉斯挂上电话，期待着，激动得连皮肤都发红了。

　　一个小时。他告诉自己，同时感谢导师给了他时间，让他在进入上帝的圣所之前有时间作苦修。我必须清除今日我灵魂中的罪恶。今天的犯罪目的是神圣的。反抗上帝之敌的战争已进行了百年了。肯定会得到原谅的。

Even so, Silas knew, absolution required sacrifice.

Pulling his shades, he stripped naked and knelt in the center of his room. Looking down, he examined the spiked cilice belt clamped around his thigh. All true followers of The Way wore this device - a leather strap, studded with sharp metal barbs that cut into the flesh as a perpetual reminder of Christ's suffering. The pain caused by the device also helped counteract the desires of the flesh.

　塞拉斯知道，即便如此，获得赦免的同时，也须做出奉献。

　　他取下墨镜，脱得赤条条地跪在房子中央。他低下头，仔细看着紧紧束扎在大腿上的带刺的苦修带。《路》的全部真正的信徒们都带这种东西。这是一根皮带，上面钉有锋利的金属倒钩刺，倒钩刺扎进肉里，以永远提醒人们不要忘记耶稣所受的苦难。这种东西引起的刺痛也有助于压制肉体的欲望。

 

Although Silas already had worn his cilice today longer than the requisite two hours, he knew today was no ordinary day. Grasping the buckle, he cinched it one notch tighter, wincing as the barbs dug deeper into his flesh. Exhaling slowly, he savored the cleansing ritual of his pain.

Pain is good, Silas whispered, repeating the sacred mantra of Father Josemaria Escriva - the Teacher of all Teachers. Although Escriva had died in 1975, his wisdom lived on, his words still whispered by thousands of faithful servants around the globe as they knelt on the floor and performed the sacred practice known as" corporal mortification."

虽然塞拉斯今天带苦修带的时间已超过规定的两小时，但他知道今天非同寻常。他抓住扣环，又缩紧了一扣。当倒钩刺扎得更深时，他的肌肉本能地收缩着。他缓缓地吐出一口气，品味着这给他带来疼痛的净化仪式。

　　疼痛对人有好处，塞拉斯小声嘀咕着。他是在重复他们导师何塞玛利亚·埃斯克里瓦神圣的祷文。虽然埃斯克里瓦1979年就仙逝了，他的智慧永存。当全世界成千上万的信徒跪在< 

< 地上进行被人称作“肉体苦行”的神圣仪式时，信徒们还在小声重复着他的话语。

Silas turned his attention now to a heavy knotted rope coiled neatly on the floor beside him. The Discipline. The knots were caked with dried blood. Eager for the purifying effects of his own agony, Silas said a quick prayer. Then, gripping one end of the rope, he closed his eyes and swung it hard over his shoulder, feeling the knots slap against his back. He whipped it over his shoulder again, slashing at his flesh. Again and again, he lashed.

　　塞拉斯此时将自己的注意力转向他身旁地板上的一根卷得工工整整打着很笨重的结的大绳。要克制。绳结上涂有干血。由于急于想得到因极度痛苦而获得的净化效果，塞拉斯很快地祷告完毕。然后，他抓住绳子的一头，闭上眼睛，使劲地将绳子甩过肩膀。他能感到绳结在击打他的后背。他再次将绳子甩过肩膀抽打自己，抽打自己的肉体。就这样，他反复鞭打着自己。

Castigo corpus meum.

Finally, he felt the blood begin to flow.

这叫鞭笞肉体。

　　终于，他感到血开始流了出来。

CHAPTER 3

The crisp April air whipped through the open window of the Citroen ZX as it skimmed south past the Opera House and crossed Place Vend&ocirc;me. In the passenger seat, Robert Langdon felt the city tear past him as he tried to clear his thoughts. His quick shower and shave had left him looking reasonably presentable but had done little to ease his anxiety. The frightening image of the curator's body remained locked in his mind.

Jacques Sauniere is dead.

　当雪铁龙ZX向南急驰掠过歌剧院，穿过旺多姆广场时，清冷的四月风透过车窗向车内袭来。罗伯特·兰登正坐在客座上，试图理清思绪，却只感到城市从他身旁飞驰而过。他已匆匆地冲了沐浴，刮了胡子，这使外表看上去倒也说得过去，但他无法减轻自己的焦虑感。那令人恐惧的博物馆长尸体的样子一直锁定在他的脑海里。

　　雅克·索尼埃死了。

Langdon could not help but feel a deep sense of loss at the curator's death. Despite Sauniere's reputation for being reclusive, his recognition for dedication to the arts made him an easy man to revere. His books on the secret codes hidden in the paintings of Poussin and Teniers were some of Langdon's favorite classroom texts. Tonight's meeting had been one Langdon was very much looking forward to, and he was disappointed when the curator had not shown.

　对于馆长的死，兰登禁不住有一种怅然若失的感受。尽管大家都知道索尼埃离群索居，但他对艺术的那份奉献精神却很容易使人们对他肃然起敬。他有关普桑和特尼尔斯画中隐藏密码的书籍是兰登上课时最喜欢用的课本。对今晚的会面，兰登抱有很大的期望，馆长没来他非常失望。

 

Again the image of the curator's body flashed in his mind. Jacques Sauniere did that to himself?Langdon turned and looked out the window, forcing the picture from his mind.

Outside, the city was just now winding down - street vendors wheeling carts of candied amandes, waiters carrying bags of garbage to the curb, a pair of late night lovers cuddling to stay warm in a breeze scented with jasmine blossom. The Citroen navigated the chaos with authority, its dissonant two-tone siren parting the traffic like a knife.

　馆长尸体的那幅图景再次在他脑海闪过。雅克·索尼埃把自己弄成那样？兰登转身向窗外望去，使劲地把那景象从脑子中挤出去。

　　车外，城市街道曲曲折折地延伸。街头小贩推着车沿街叫卖桃脯，服务生正抱垃圾袋要把他们放在路边，一对深夜恋人在溢满茉莉花香的微风里拥抱在一起取暖。雪铁龙以居高临下的姿态穿过这一片混乱，那刺耳的双声调警笛像刀子一样把车流划开。

 

"Le capitaine was pleased to discover you were still in Paris tonight," the agent said, speaking for the first time since they'd left the hotel. "A fortunate coincidence."

Langdon was feeling anything but fortunate, and coincidence was a concept he did not entirely trust. As someone who had spent his life exploring the hidden interconnectivity of disparate emblems and ideologies, Langdon viewed the world as a web of profoundly intertwined histories and events. The connections may be invisible, he often preached to his symbology classes at Harvard, but they are always there, buried just beneath the surface.

“我们局长发现你今晚还在巴黎后非常高兴。”那特工说道。这是他离开酒店后第一次开口。“真凑巧，太幸运了。”

　　兰登一点也不觉得幸运。他不十分相信机缘巧合这种说法。作为一个终生都有在探索孤立的象征符号或观念之间隐含的相关性的人，兰登把这个世界视为一张由历史和事件相互交织而成的深不可测的大网。他经常在哈佛的符号学课上鼓吹说，各种关联性也许看不到，但他们却一直在那儿，伏在表层下面。

 

"I assume," Langdon said," that the American University of Paris told you where I was staying?" The driver shook his head. "Interpol." Interpol, Langdon thought. Of course.He had forgotten that the seemingly innocuous request of all European hotels to see a passport at check-in was more than a quaint formality - it was the law. On any given night, all across Europe, Interpol officials could pinpoint exactly who was sleeping where. Finding Langdon at the Ritz had probably taken all of five seconds.

　“我想是巴黎美国大学告诉你们我的住处的。”兰登说。

　　开车人摇摇头说：“国际刑警组织”。

　　国际刑警组织，兰登心里想。当然。他忘了，所有欧洲酒店都要求看客人的护照。这无关痛痒的请求其实不仅仅是一个古怪的登记手续，那是法律。在任何一个晚上，在整个欧洲，国际刑警组织都能准确地定位谁睡在什么地方。弄清楚兰登住在里茨酒店恐怕只花了五秒钟时间。

As the Citroen accelerated southward across the city, the illuminated profile of the Eiffel Tower appeared, shooting skyward in the distance to the right. Seeing it, Langdon thought of Vittoria, recalling their playful promise a year ago that every six months they would meet again at a different romantic spot on the globe. The Eiffel Tower, Langdon suspected, would have made their list. Sadly, he last kissed Vittoria in a noisy airport in Rome more than a year ago.

雪铁龙继续加速向南穿越城区。这时被照亮的埃菲尔铁塔的轮廓开始显现出来。在车右边铁塔直插云霄。看到铁塔，兰登想起了维多利亚，想起了他一年前玩笑般的承诺。他说他们每六个月都要在全球范围内换一个浪漫的地方约会。兰登想，当时埃菲尔铁塔一定是上了他们的名单的。遗憾的是，他一年前是在罗马一个喧闹的机场和维多利亚吻别的。

 

"Did you mount her?" the agent asked, looking over.

Langdon glanced up, certain he had misunderstood. "I beg your pardon?"

"She is lovely, no?" The agent motioned through the windshield toward the Eiffel Tower. "Have you mounted her?"

“你上过她吗？”特工看着远方问。

　　兰登抬头看了他一眼，确信自己没听懂他的话。“对不起，你说什么？”

　　“她很可爱，不是吗？”特工透过挡风玻璃指向埃菲尔铁塔。“你上过她吗？”

　　兰登的眼珠转了转。“没有，我还没爬过那铁塔。”

　　“她是法国的象征。我认为她完美无瑕。”

　　兰登心不在焉地点了点头。

Langdon rolled his eyes. "No, I haven't climbed the tower." "She is the symbol of France. I think she is perfect." Langdon nodded absently. Symbologists often remarked that France - a country renowned for machismo, womanizing, and diminutive insecure leaders like Napoleon and Pepin the Short - could not have chosen a more apt national emblem than a thousand-foot phallus.

　符号学家常说，法国是一个因那些有男子汉气概、沉溺于女色的、像拿破仑和矮子丕平那样危险的小个子领袖的出名的国家。它选择一个一千英尺高的男性生殖器作为国家的象征再合适不过了。

When they reached the intersection at Rue de Rivoli, the traffic light was red, but the Citroen didn't slow. The agent gunned the sedan across the junction and sped onto a wooded section of Rue Castiglione, which served as the northern entrance to the famed Tuileries Gardens - Paris's own version of Central Park. Most tourists mistranslated Jardins des Tuileries as relating to the thousands of tulips that bloomed here, but Tuileries was actually a literal reference to something far less romantic. This park had once been an enormous, polluted excavation pit from which Parisian contractors mined clay to manufacture the city's famous red roofing tiles - or tuiles.

　他们到里沃利路口时遇到了红灯，但雪铁龙并未减速。特工加大油门驰过路口，快速冲入卡斯蒂哥亚诺路有林荫的那一段。这一部分路段被用作著名的杜伊勒里花园——法国版的中央公园的北入口。许多游客都误以为杜伊勒里这个名字和这里几千珠盛开的丁香有关，因为二者发音有相似的地方。但杜伊勒里字面意思的确指的是多少有些浪漫的东西。这个公园曾经是一个被污染的大坑。巴黎承包商从这里挖粘土烧制巴黎著名的房顶红瓦——这个词的法语语音为杜伊勒里。

As they entered the deserted park, the agent reached under the dash and turned off the blaring siren. Langdon exhaled, savoring the sudden quiet. Outside the car, the pale wash of halogen headlights skimmed over the crushed gravel parkway, the rugged whir of the tires intoning a hypnotic rhythm. Langdon had always considered the Tuileries to be sacred ground. These were the gardens in which Claude Monet had experimented with form and color, and literally inspired the birth of the Impressionist movement. Tonight, however, this place held a strange aura of foreboding.

The Citroen swerved left now, angling west down the park's central boulevard. Curling around a circular pond, the driver cut across a desolate avenue out into a wide quadrangle beyond. Langdon could now see the end of the Tuileries Gardens, marked by a giant stone archway.

Arc du Carrousel.

　他们进入这空无一人的公园时，特工把手伸到仪表板下面把吵人的警笛关掉。兰登出了口气，体味着这瞬间到来的宁静。车外，泛白的车头晕光灯一晃一晃地照着前方碎砂砾停车道，轮胎发出难听的、有节奏的沙沙声，使人昏昏欲睡。

　兰登一直把杜伊勒里当作一块圣地。正是在这些花园里，克劳德·莫内对形式和颜色作了实验，实际上是催生了印象派运动。然而，今晚这个地方被不祥的氛围笼罩着。

　雪铁龙现在开始左拐，沿公园的中心大道向西驰去。轿车沿着一个环形池塘在奔驰，穿过了一条废弃的大道驶进远处的一块四边形场地。兰登现在可以看到杜伊勒里花园的边界，边界处有一块巨大的石拱门——小凯旋门。

< <

Despite the orgiastic rituals once held at the Arc du Carrousel, art aficionados revered this place for another reason entirely. From the esplanade at the end of the Tuileries, four of the finest art museums in the world could be seen... one at each point of the compass.

　尽管在小凯旋门曾举行过狂欢节，但艺术迷们是出于另一个完全不同的原因而对其景仰不已。从杜伊勒里花园尽头处的空地上可以看到全球四个最好的艺术博物馆——指南针的四个方向上各有一个。

Out the right-hand window, south across the Seine and Quai Voltaire, Langdon could see the dramatically lit facade of the old train station - now the esteemed Musee d'Orsay. Glancing left, he could make out the top of the ultramodern Pompidou Center, which housed the Museum of Modern Art. Behind him to the west, Langdon knew the ancient obelisk of Ramses rose above the trees, marking the Musee du Jeu de Paume.

　　在右车窗外边，朝南跨过塞纳河和凯伏尔泰大道，兰登可以看到灯火通明的老火车站，即现在著名的道赛美术博物馆的正面。他往左一瞥，看到了那超级现代的蓬皮杜中心的顶部。蓬皮杜中心是现代艺术博物馆所在地。在他身后西部，他看到古老的高过树顶的拉美西斯方尖碑，那是裘德·波姆国立美术馆的标志。

但朝正东，透过石拱门，兰登可以看到耸立着独石柱碑的文艺复兴时的宫殿，现在已成为举世闻名的艺术博物馆。

　　

But it was straight ahead, to the east, through the archway, that Langdon could now see the monolithic Renaissance palace that had become the most famous art museum in the world.

Musee du Louvre.

　但朝正东，透过石拱门，兰登可以看到耸立着独石柱碑的文艺复兴时的宫殿，现在已成为举世闻名的艺术博物馆。

　　卢浮宫美术馆。

Langdon felt a familiar tinge of wonder as his eyes made a futile attempt to absorb the entire mass of the edifice. Across a staggeringly expansive plaza, the imposing facade of the Louvre rose like a citadel against the Paris sky. Shaped like an enormous horseshoe, the Louvre was the longest building in Europe, stretching farther than three Eiffel Towers laid end to end. Not even the million square feet of open plaza between the museum wings could challenge the majesty of the facade's breadth. Langdon had once walked the Louvre's entire perimeter, an astonishing three-mile journey.

　　当兰登的眼睛徒劳地试图看完整整个大厦时，他感觉到一些似曾有过的惊奇。在极宽大的广场对面，宏伟的卢浮宫正面在巴黎的天空映衬下像个城堡一样矗立着。卢浮宫形如一个巨大的马掌，它是欧洲最长的建筑，其长度比三个平放的对接起来的埃菲尔铁塔都要长。就是在美术馆翼楼之间的百万平方英尺开放广场，在宽度上也无法和它正面的宽度相比。兰登有一次曾漫步于卢浮宫的各个角落，令人吃惊的是，竟然有三英里的路程。

Despite the estimated five days it would take a visitor to properly appreciate the 65, 300 pieces of art in this building, most tourists chose an abbreviated experience Langdon referred to as "Louvre Lite" - a full sprint through the museum to see the three most famous objects: the Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, and Winged Victory.Art Buchwald had once boasted he'd seen all three masterpieces in five minutes and fifty-six seconds.

The driver pulled out a handheld walkie-talkie and spoke in rapid-fire French. "Monsieur Langdonest arrive.Deux minutes."

　尽管要想好好地欣赏馆藏的653,000件艺术品估计需要五天，大部分游客都选择一种被兰登称作“轻型卢浮宫”的不完全游的方式——急匆匆地去看宫里最有名的三样东西——蒙娜丽莎、米罗的维纳斯和胜利女神。阿特·布奇华德曾骄傲地说他曾在五分五十六秒内就看完了这三大杰作。

　　开车人拿出手提式步话机用法语连珠炮式地说：“先生，兰登到了。两分钟。”

 

An indecipherable confirmation came crackling back.

The agent stowed the device, turning now to Langdon. "You will meet the capitaine at the main entrance."

The driver ignored the signs prohibiting auto traffic on the plaza, revved the engine, and gunned the Citroen up over the curb. The Louvre's main entrance was visible now, rising boldly in the distance, encircled by seven triangular pools from which spouted illuminated fountains.

La Pyramide.

　步话机传回对方尖利急促的回话声，别人听不懂他在说什么。

　　特工收好步话机后转向兰登说：“你会在大门口见到局长。”

　　开车人丝毫不理会广场上禁止车辆通行的标志牌，把雪铁龙发动起来，快速驶过路边的镶边石。此时能看到卢浮宫的大门很显眼地立在远方，正门被七个长方形的水池围住，水池射出的喷泉被灯光照得通体发亮。

　　金字塔。

The new entrance to the Paris Louvre had become almost as famous as the museum itself. The controversial, neomodern glass pyramid designed by Chinese-born American architect I. M. Peistill evoked scorn from traditionalists who felt it destroyed the dignity of the Renaissance courtyard. Goethe had described architecture as frozen music, and Pei's critics described this pyramid as fingernails on a chalkboard. Progressive admirers, though, hailed Pei's seventy-one-foot-tall transparent pyramid as a dazzling synergy of ancient structure and modern method - a symbolic link between the old and new - helping usher the Louvre into the next millennium.

　巴黎卢浮宫的这个新入口现在几乎和卢浮宫美术馆一样有名。这座由生于中国的美国建筑家贝聿铭设计的引起诸多争议的全新的现代玻璃金字塔，现在仍受到传统派的嘲讽。因为他们觉得它破坏了这个文艺复兴时期王宫的尊严。歌德曾把建筑描述为冻结了的音乐，批评贝聿铭的人把这金字塔描述为光洁黑板上的指甲划痕。然而激进的崇拜者们认为贝聿铭这七十一英尺高的透明金字塔将古老的结构和现代方法结合起来，艳丽多姿，二者相得益彰——它是一种连接新与旧的象征，它有助于将卢浮宫推进下一个千年。

"Do you like our pyramid?" the agent asked.

Langdon frowned. The French, it seemed, loved to ask Americans this. It was a loaded question, of course. Admitting you liked the pyramid made you a tasteless American, and expressing dislike was an insult to the French.

“你喜欢我们的金字塔吗？”特工问。

　　兰登皱起了眉头。好像法国人很喜欢问美国人这个问题。这当然不是一个轻而易举就回答得了的问题。承认你喜欢这个金字塔，别人倒觉得你是个很没品味的美国人，说你讨厌它，这又是对法国的大不敬。

"Mitterrand was a bold man," Langdon replied, splitting the difference. The late French president who had commissioned the pyramid was said to have suffered from a" Pharaoh complex." Single handedly responsible for filling Paris with Egyptian obelisks, art, and artifacts.

　“密特朗是个很大胆的人。”兰登回答道，也避开了两难的回答。这位授权建造这个金字塔的前总统据说患有“法老情结”。弗朗索瓦·密特朗独自负责把巴黎填满埃及的尖塔，艺术和工艺品。

Fran&ccedil;ois Mitterrand had an affinity for Egyptian culture that was so all-consuming that the French still referred to him as the Sphinx.

他很喜欢那些耗资费时的埃及文化，所以现在法国人还称他为司芬克斯。

 

"What is the captain's name?" Langdon asked, changing topics.

"Bezu Fache," the driver said, approaching the pyramid's main entrance. "We call him le Taureau."

Langdon glanced over at him, wondering if every Frenchman had a mysterious animal epithet. "You call your captain the Bull?"

The man arched his eyebrows. "Your French is better than you admit, Monsieur Langdon."

My French stinks, Langdon thought, but my zodiac iconography is pretty good.Taurus was always the bull. Astrology was a symbolic constant all over the world.

“局长叫什么？”兰登改换话题问道。

　“贝祖·法希，”开车人道。他们已接近金字塔的大门口。“我们叫他Le Taureau。”

　　兰登瞥了他一眼，心想是不是每个法国人都有个奇怪的动物名称。“你们叫局长公牛？”

　　那人皱起了眉毛。“你的法语比你自己承认的要好，兰登先生。”

< <

　　我的法语很臭，兰登心里想。可我对星座图谱很了解。Taurus是金牛座。全世界的星相学符号都是一致的。

The agent pulled the car to a stop and pointed between two fountains to a large door in the side of the pyramid. "There is the entrance. Good luck, monsieur." "You're not coming?" "My orders are to leave you here. I have other business to attend to." Langdon heaved a sigh and climbed out. It's your circus. The agent revved his engine and sped off.

　特工把车停了下来，从两股喷泉中间指向金字塔一侧的大门说：“入口处到了。祝您好运，先生。”

　　“你不去？”

　　我奉命把你送到这儿，我还有其他任务。“

　　兰登叹了一口气下了车。这是你的杂耍。

　　特工迅速地把车发动起来，一溜烟地开走了。

As Langdon stood alone and watched the departing taillights, he realized he could easily reconsider, exit the courtyard, grab a taxi, and head home to bed. Something told him it was probably a lousy idea.

As he moved toward the mist of the fountains, Langdon had the uneasy sense he was crossing an imaginary threshold into another world. The dreamlike quality of the evening was settling around him again. Twenty minutes ago he had been asleep in his hotel room. Now he was standing in front of a transparent pyramid built by the Sphinx, waiting for a policeman they called the Bull.

I'm trapped in a Salvador Dali painting, he thought.

Langdon strode to the main entrance - an enormous revolving door. The foyer beyond was dimly lit and deserted.

　兰登独自站在那里，望着渐渐远离的汽车尾灯。他知道他可以轻易地重新策划一下，走出这院子，拦一辆出租车回家睡觉。但隐约中他又觉得这很可能是下策。

　　当兰登走向喷泉发出的水雾时，他惴惴不安地感到自己正穿越一个虚幻的门槛而步入另一个世界。在这种夜的氛围中，他犹如做梦一般。二十分钟以前他还在酒店酣睡。此刻他却在司芬克斯建造的透明金字塔前等待一位被他们称作公牛的警察。

　　他心想，我这仿佛是被困在萨尔瓦多·达利的一幅画作中。

　　兰登大步流星迈向正门 —— —个巨大的旋转门。远处的门厅里灯光昏暗，空无一人。

Do I knock?

Langdon wondered if any of Harvard's revered Egyptologists had ever knocked on the front door of a pyramid and expected an answer. He raised his hand to bang on the glass, but out of the darkness below, a figure appeared, striding up the curving staircase. The man was stocky and dark, almost Neanderthal, dressed in a dark double-breasted suit that strained to cover his wide shoulders. He advanced with unmistakable authority on squat, powerful legs. He was speaking on his cell phone but finished the call as he arrived. He motioned for Langdon to enter.

　我要敲门吗？

　　兰登不知道是否曾有德高望重的哈佛大学的埃及学专家敲过金字塔的前门并期望有人开门。他举手去拍玻璃，但在黑暗中，一个人影从下面出现了，大步走上旋转楼梯。那人矮胖身材，皮肤黝黑，差不多就像原始的尼安德特人。他身着黑色的双胸兜套装，套装扯得很紧，罩住了他宽厚的肩膀。他迈着短粗有力的腿，带着不容质疑的权威向前走去。他正在用手机通话，但到兰登面前时正好通话完毕。他示意兰登进去。

"I am Bezu Fache," he announced as Langdon pushed through the revolving door. "Captain of the Central Directorate Judicial Police." His tone was fitting - a guttural rumble... like a gathering storm.

Langdon held out his hand to shake. "Robert Langdon."

Fache's enormous palm wrapped around Langdon's with crushing force.

"I saw the photo," Langdon said. "Your agent said Jacques Sauniere himself did - "

"Mr. Langdon," Fache's ebony eyes locked on. "What you see in the photo is only the beginning of what Sauniere did."

　　兰登穿过旋转门时他自我介绍说：“我是贝祖·法希，中央司法警察总管。”他说话的语气倒与他长相挺相称——从喉头处发出低沉的声音……象暴风前的闷雷。

　　兰登伸手和他握手。“罗伯特·兰登。”

　　法希的大手紧裹着兰登的手，那力量似乎能把兰登的手攥碎。

　　“我看到了相片。”兰登说。“你的特工说雅克·索尼埃自己把自己弄成——”

　　法希的黑亮的眼睛看着兰登。“兰登先生，你在照片上看到的才只是索尼埃所作所为的开始。”

转自：http://www.cnblogs.com/threef/p/3215369