このエントリは 11の11の部分 シリーズに 坊っちゃん
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『坊っちゃん』のカラフル対訳について

カラフル対訳で紹介している『坊っちゃん』は、パブリックドメインの作品を出典としています。

このサイトで使われている作品は、著作権の切れた名作などの全文を電子化し、インターネット上で公開している Project Gutenberg(プロジェクト・グーテンベルク)、 および朗読音声を公開している LibriVox(リブリヴォックス/朗読図書館) の作品を出典としています。

『坊っちゃん』は、夏目漱石による日本文学の名作です。ここでは英訳版 Botchan (Master Darling) をもとに、英語多読・英文読解に役立つよう、重要語句や表現を色分けして紹介しています。

原文はProject Gutenberg、音声はLibriVoxで公開されているパブリックドメイン作品を出典としています。

『坊っちゃん』英文/和訳 CHAPTER XI

夏目漱石『坊っちゃん』の英訳版 Botchan (Master Darling) CHAPTER XI を、英語多読用に、意味の取りやすい語句を多めに色分けして整えています。最終章では、新聞記事による濡れ衣、山嵐の辞職、赤シャツと野だいこへの天誅、そして清との再会と別れが描かれます。

表示設定

動作・勢い 感情・心理 怒り・皮肉・衝突 場面・結末描写 人物・呼び名 重要表現

The next morning, when I woke up, I felt pain all over my body.

I thought it was probably because I had not had a fight for a long time.

That was not very creditable to my reputation as a fighter.

While I lay in bed thinking so, the old lady brought me the Shikoku Shimbun.

I felt so weak that even reaching for the paper required some effort.

But what kind of man would be upset by such a trifling affair?

So I forced myself to turn over in bed and opened the second page.

To my surprise, the whole story of yesterday’s fight was printed there.

The article said that one teacher named Hotta and one saucy Somebody from Tokyo had started the trouble.

It claimed that we had incited the students and even joined the fight against the normal-school boys.

The article further declared that the honor of the middle school had been sullied by two irresponsible men.

It demanded that those “toughs” be properly punished and driven forever from educational circles.

The print was emphasized as if the newspaper itself wished to chastise us in type.

“What the devil do I care!” I shouted, and jumped out of bed.

Strangely enough, the pain in my joints became more tolerable.

I rolled up the newspaper and threw it into the garden.

Still unsatisfied, I picked it up and dumped it into the cesspool.

Newspapers tell reckless lies.

There is nothing more skillful than newspapers at circulating lies.

And what does “one saucy Somebody from Tokyo” mean?

Is there anyone in the world whose name is Somebody?

I have a family name and a personal name of my own, and I am proud of them.

After washing my face, my cheek suddenly began to smart.

I asked the old lady for a mirror, and she asked whether I had read the paper.

“Yes,” I said. “I dumped it in the cesspool. Go pick it up if you want it.”

She withdrew with a startled look.

Looking in the mirror, I saw bruises on my cheek.

My face is precious to me.

My face is bruised, and on top of that I am called a saucy Somebody as if I were nobody.

That was enough.

* * *

If people said I had stayed away from school because of the newspaper article, it would stain my honor forever.

So after breakfast, I went to school earlier than anyone else.

One after another, the teachers came in and grinned at my face.

What was there to laugh at?

This face is mine, and I am sure I did not borrow it from them.

Then Clown appeared.

“Heroic action yesterday. Wounds of honor, eh?” he said sarcastically.

He probably said this in revenge for the blow I had given him at the farewell dinner.

“Cut out nonsense,” I said. “Go back and suck your old drawing brushes.”

He asked whether the wound hurt much.

“Pain or no pain, this is my face. It is none of your business,” I snapped back.

Clown then sat down on the other side and whispered and laughed with the history teacher.

Then came Porcupine.

His nose was swollen and purple, like something waiting for a surgeon’s knife.

His face looked far worse than mine.

Our desks stood side by side, facing the door, so our two strange faces became a public exhibition.

The others said “too bad,” but they were surely laughing inside.

In class, the boys clapped their hands when I entered.

Two or three even shouted banzai.

I could not tell whether it was enthusiastic approval or open insult.

While Porcupine and I were thus made the cynosures of the whole school, Red Shirt came to me as usual.

“Too bad, my friend. I am truly sorry for you gentlemen,” he said in a semi-apologetic tone.

He said he had talked with the principal and arranged to demand that the newspaper retract the report.

He added that the trouble had begun because his younger brother had invited Hotta.

He promised to do his best and asked us to depend on him.

During the third-hour break, the principal came out, looking perturbed.

He said the newspaper had made a bad mess of things and hoped the matter would not become serious.

As for anxiety, I had none.

If they intended to fire me, I would resign before being fired.

But if I resigned without fault, it would simply give the newspaper an advantage.

So I thought the paper should first take back what it had written.

Porcupine and I later saw the principal and Red Shirt and gave them the true version of the incident.

They agreed that the matter must have happened just as we said.

Red Shirt even went around the teachers’ room explaining and defending our action.

All the teachers denounced the newspaper and said we deserved sympathy.

On the way home, Porcupine warned me that Red Shirt smelled suspicious.

He said Red Shirt might have arranged for us to be drawn into the fight.

Then he might have used the newspaper to publish that false story.

This was a startling revelation.

Porcupine was rough, but I had to admit that his brain worked better than mine.

If Red Shirt had truly done this, he deserved a solid punishment.

Red Shirt outclassed us in clever plotting.

Then there was no other course but to appeal to physical force.

After all, among individuals, it is finally a question of whose fist is stronger.

* * *

The next day I impatiently looked through the paper, waiting for the correction.

But there was not even a line of retraction.

When I pressed Badger about it, he said it would probably appear the next day.

On that “tomorrow,” a tiny notice was printed, but the story itself was not corrected.

I pointed this out to Badger, and he said that was about all that could be done.

For a principal who swaggered with a badger-like face, he had surprisingly little influence.

He could not even bring down a country newspaper that had printed a false story.

I declared that I would go alone to the newspaper office and confront the editor.

But Badger stopped me, saying that if I caused a quarrel there, the paper might attack me again.

He finally preached that we must forget the matter quickly.

If newspapers are such things, they should be suspended as soon as possible.

A few days later, Porcupine came to me excitedly and said the time had come.

He meant to carry out the plan we had discussed.

I immediately agreed to join him.

But Porcupine shook his head and said I had better not.

He asked whether the principal had asked me to resign.

I said no, and asked whether he had been asked.

He said the principal had called him in and, with great regret, requested him to resign.

“That is not fair,” I said.

“You and I went to the celebration together, watched the sword dance together, and jumped into the fight together.”

“If he asks you to resign, he should ask me too.”

Porcupine said this was Red Shirt’s wire-pulling.

They could not keep Porcupine and Red Shirt together, but they thought I was harmless enough to keep.

“Harmless?” I said. “They are getting too gay with me.”

The next day, I went straight to the principal’s room.

“Why don’t you ask me to resign?” I demanded.

Badger stared blankly.

“You asked Hotta to resign, but not me. Is that right?”

He mumbled something about the condition of the school.

“If I do not have to resign, there is no reason Hotta should resign either.”

The principal dodged the point and said they saw no need for my resignation.

“Then I will resign,” I said.

“You may have thought I would stay quietly while Mr. Hotta is forced out, but I cannot do that.”

Badger became flustered and asked me to stay until a replacement could be found.

He said resigning within one month of starting a job would damage my record.

“What do I care about my record? Obligation is more important than record.”

In the end, I withdrew on the condition that I would think it over.

I did not talk with Red Shirt.

If I had to land him one, I thought it better to do it all at once, hot and strong.

Porcupine finally submitted his resignation and said farewell to the other teachers.

Then he went down to Minato-ya on the beach.

But secretly he returned to the hot-springs town and rented an upstairs front room at Masuya.

There he began peeping through a small hole in the shoji.

I was the only person who knew this.

* * *

If Red Shirt came, it would surely be after nine at night.

For the first two nights, I watched until about eleven, but he did not appear.

On the third night, I watched from nine to ten thirty, but still no sign of him.

Nothing made me feel more foolish than returning to my boarding house at midnight after a fruitless watch.

After several days, the old lady began worrying and advised me to quit night prowling.

My night prowling was not that kind of night prowling.

It was for the purpose of administering deserved chastisement.

Still, when nothing happened for a week, it became tiresome.

I am quick-tempered and enthusiastic at first, but I have never shone in endurance.

Porcupine, however, stuck to it with bulldog tenacity.

From early evening until after midnight, he kept his eye glued to the shoji.

On the eighth night, I went to the bath, bought eight raw eggs, and headed to Masuya.

I put four eggs in each pocket and walked with my old red towel over my shoulder.

When I opened the shoji, Porcupine’s face suddenly brightened like Idaten.

“There is hope!” he said.

I became cheerful before even hearing the details and cried, “Hooray!”

Around half past seven, the geisha named Kosuzu had gone into Kadoya.

She was not with Red Shirt, but Porcupine believed she had been sent ahead.

Red Shirt might sneak in later, like a sly old fox.

Porcupine told me to put out the lamp so that our silhouettes would not show on the shoji.

I blew it out, and we pressed our faces close to the shoji, almost breathless.

The town became quiet, and the drum from the tenderloin district reached our ears clearly.

Then voices were heard below, coming closer.

We could not put our heads out, but the voices were unmistakable.

“Everything is all right now. We got rid of the stumbling block,” said Clown.

“He only enjoys bullying and has no tact,” said Red Shirt.

“As for that young tough, he is a winsome, sporty Master Darling,” said Clown.

“I do not want my salary raised, he says. He must have something wrong with his nerves,” said Red Shirt.

I wanted to open the window, jump out of the second floor, and make them see more stars than they cared for.

But I restrained myself.

The two laughed and went into Kadoya.

We had caught them at last.

Now we had to wait for them to come out.

Waiting for Red Shirt to come had been trying, but waiting for him to come out was even worse.

We could not sleep, and we could not keep our faces stuck to the shoji all night.

In all my life, I had never spent such fretful and mortifying hours.

Finally, a little before dawn, they came out.

Porcupine and I followed them.

Outside the hot-springs town, there was a road lined with cedar trees.

We decided to catch them there, where few people would see us.

Once they were outside the town, we rushed forward and grabbed their shoulders.

“Wait!” we cried.

Clown tried to escape in panic, but I stepped in front of him and blocked his way.

“What makes a head teacher stay overnight at Kadoya?” Porcupine fired the first shot.

Red Shirt answered politely, though his face was pale.

“Is there any rule saying a head teacher must not stay overnight at Kadoya?”

“You forbid others from going even to noodle houses or dango shops, yet you stay overnight with a geisha!”

Clown tried to flee whenever he saw a chance, so I kept myself in front of him.

“What did you mean by calling me a sporty Master Darling?” I roared.

“I did not mean you, Sir. I surely did not mean you,” he said with brazen cowardice.

At that moment, I noticed I had been holding my pockets with both hands.

The eggs in my pockets had been jumping as I ran.

I took out two eggs and smashed them into Clown’s face.

The shells broke, and yellow yolk streamed down from the tip of his nose.

Clown screamed hideously and fell to the ground, begging for mercy.

I had bought the eggs to eat, not to use as weapons.

But once I saw the first attack succeed, I smashed the rest on him too.

His face was soaked in yellow.

While I bombarded Clown with eggs, Porcupine was attacking Red Shirt.

Red Shirt still tried to argue, asking for evidence that he had stayed with a geisha.

Porcupine shouted, “Shut up!” and gave him one solid blow.

Red Shirt staggered.

“Nothing but blows work on scheming fellows like you,” Porcupine said.

Then came a shower of blows.

At last Red Shirt and Clown crouched at the foot of a cedar tree.

They were so cowed that they could not even speak.

“This is the punishment of heaven,” we told them.

“Remember this, and be more careful from now on.”

Porcupine said he would not run away or hide.

He told them they could find him at Minato-ya until five that evening.

I said I would be there too, and that they could bring police officers if they liked.

Then Porcupine and I walked away.

* * *

It was a little before seven when I returned to my room.

I began packing at once.

The astonished old lady asked what I was doing.

“I am going to Tokyo to fetch my Madam,” I said.

I paid my bill and boarded a train to Minato-ya on the beach.

There I found Porcupine sleeping upstairs.

I thought of writing my resignation, but I did not know how to write it properly.

So I scribbled that, because of personal affairs, I had to resign and return to Tokyo.

I addressed it to the principal and mailed it.

The steamer was to leave the harbor at six in the evening.

Porcupine and I were exhausted and slept like logs.

When we woke, it was two o’clock.

We asked the maid whether the police had come.

She said no.

So Red Shirt and Clown had not taken the matter to the police.

We laughed.

That night, Porcupine and I left the town.

The farther the vessel moved from the shore, the more refreshed we felt.

From Kobe to Tokyo we took a through train.

When we reached Shimbashi, we felt as if we had returned to human society at last.

I parted from Porcupine at the station and have never met him since.

* * *

I almost forgot to tell about Kiyo.

When I arrived in Tokyo, I rushed into her house before going to any hotel.

Swinging my valise, I cried, “Hello, Kiyo, I’m back!”

“How good of you to return so soon!” she cried.

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

I was overjoyed.

I declared that I would never go to the country again.

I said I would start housekeeping with Kiyo in Tokyo.

Some time later, someone helped me find a job as an assistant engineer at the tram-car office.

My salary was twenty-five yen a month, and the rent was six yen.

The house did not have a grand entrance hall.

But Kiyo seemed quite satisfied.

Sadly, she caught pneumonia and died in February of this year.

On the day before her death, she called me to her bedside.

“Please, Master Darling,” she said, “if Kiyo dies, bury me in your temple yard.”

“I will be glad to wait in the grave for my Master Darling.”

So Kiyo’s grave is in the Yogen Temple at Kobinata.

THE END

出典:Project Gutenberg “Botchan (Master Darling)” by Soseki Natsume, translated by Yasotaro Morri, revised by J. R. Kennedy.
Source URL: https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/8868/pg8868-images.html

坊っちゃん

『坊っちゃん』英文/和訳 CHAPTER X