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Capitol 12
Alisia atesta
Chapter XII.
ALICE’S EVIDENCE.
“Asi!” Alisia cria, tota oblidante en la stimula de la momento ce el ia deveni tan grande en la minutos resente, e el salta tan fretosa sur sua pedes ce el cade la banca de la juria par colpa lo con la borda de sua falda, versante tota la juriores sur la testas de la fola a su, do los contorse sua brasos e gamas, e pare a el multe simil a un globo de pexes oro cual el ia cade sin intende en la semana pasada. “Here!” cried Alice, quite forgetting in the flurry of the moment how large she had grown in the last few minutes, and she jumped up in such a hurry that she tipped over the jury-box with the edge of her skirt, upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads of the crowd below, and there they lay sprawling about, reminding her very much of a globe of gold-fish she had accidentally upset the week before.
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“O! pardona me!” el esclama en un tono de angusa grande, e comensa recolie los tan rapida como posible, car el continua revide en sua mente la asidente de la pexes oro, e el ave un crede neblosa ce on debe colie los sin pausa e repone los en la banca de la juria, per evita ce los mori. “Oh, I beg your pardon!” she exclaimed in a tone of great dismay, and began picking them up again as quickly as she could, for the accident of the gold-fish kept running in her head, and she had a vague sort of idea that they must be collected at once and put back into the jury-box, or they would die.
“La prosede no pote continua,” la Re dise, en un vose multe seria, “asta cuando tota la juriores senta denova en sua locas coreta—tota,” el repete con asentua grande, fisante sua regarda a Alisia cuando el parla. “The trial cannot proceed,” said the King, in a very grave voice, “until all the jurymen are back in their proper places—all,” he repeated with great emphasis, looking hard at Alice as he said so.
Alisia regarda la banca de la juria, e vide ce, en sua freta, el ia pone la Lezardo a un posa inversada, e la povre peti brandi aora sua coda en un modo triste, car lo es tota noncapas de move. Alisia estrae pronto lo denova, e coreti la posa. “Ma esta importa apena,” el dise a se; “me suposa ce sua valua a la prosede ta es egal en ambos posas.” Alice looked at the jury-box, and saw that, in her haste, she had put the Lizard in head downwards, and the poor little thing was waving its tail about in a melancholy way, being quite unable to move. She soon got it out again, and put it right; “not that it signifies much,” she said to herself; “I should think it would be quite as much use in the trial one way up as the other.”
Direta pos cuando la juria ia calmi a alga grado pos la xoca de es versada, e on ia trova sua tabletas e penetas e ia redona estas a los, los comensa multe asidua la taxe de scrive un istoria de la asidente—tota de los estra la Lezardo, ci pare tan emosiada ce el pote fa no plu ca senta con sua boca abrida, contemplante la teto de la corte. As soon as the jury had a little recovered from the shock of being upset, and their slates and pencils had been found and handed back to them, they set to work very diligently to write out a history of the accident, all except the Lizard, who seemed too much overcome to do anything but sit with its mouth open, gazing up into the roof of the court.
“Cual tu sabe sur esta caso?” la Re dise a Alisia. “What do you know about this business?” the King said to Alice.
“No cosa,” Alisia dise. “Nothing,” said Alice.
Tota no cosa?” la Re ostina. “Nothing whatever?” persisted the King.
“Tota no cosa,” Alisia dise. “Nothing whatever,” said Alice.
“Acel es multe importante,” la Re dise, turnante a la juria. Los comensa apena scrive esta sur sua tabletas cuando la Coneo Blanca interompe: “Tu vole dise nonimportante, natural, Altia,” el dise en un tono multe respetosa, ma grimante e fronsinte sua suprasiles a el en cuando el parla. “That’s very important,” the King said, turning to the jury. They were just beginning to write this down on their slates, when the White Rabbit interrupted: “Unimportant, your Majesty means of course,” he said in a very respectful tone, but frowning and making faces at him as he spoke.
Nonimportante, natural, me ia vole dise,” la Re ajunta fretosa, e continua a se, en un vose basa, “importante—nonimportante—nonimportante—importante—” como si el esperimenta per trova cual parola sona plu bon. Unimportant, of course, I meant,” the King hastily said, and went on to himself in an undertone, “important—unimportant—unimportant—important——” as if he were trying which word sounded best.
Alga membros de la juria scrive la parola “importante”, e alga “nonimportante”. Alisia vide esta, car el es tan prosima ce el pote regarda sua tabletas; “ma acel es ance nonimportante,” el pensa a se. Some of the jury wrote it down “important,” and some “unimportant.” Alice could see this, as she was near enough to look over their slates; “but it doesn’t matter a bit,” she thought to herself.
A esta momento, la Re, ci ia es ocupada tra alga tempo en scrive en sua libro de notas, cria “Silenti!”, e leje de sua libro: “Regula Cuatrodes-du. Tota persones ci ave plu ca un cilometre de altia debe sorti de la corte.At this moment the King, who had been for some time busily writing in his note-book, called out “Silence!”, and read out from his book, “Rule Forty-two. All persons more than a mile high to leave the court.
Cadun regarda Alisia. Everybody looked at Alice.
Me no ave un cilometre de altia,” Alisia dise. I’m not a mile high,” said Alice.
“Ma si,” la Re dise. “You are,” said the King.
“Cuasi du cilometres,” la Rea ajunta. “Nearly two miles high,” added the Queen.
“Ma me no va sorti, an tal,” Alisia dise: “plu, acel no es un regula normal: tu ia inventa lo a la momento pasada.” “Well, I sha’n’t go, at any rate,” said Alice: “besides, that’s not a regular rule: you invented it just now.”
“Lo es la regula la plu vea en la libro,” la Re dise. “It’s the oldest rule in the book,” said the King.
“Donce lo debe ave la numero Un,” Alisia dise. “Then it ought to be Number One,” said Alice.
La Re deveni pal, e clui fretosa sua libro de notas. “Considera e deside,” el dise a la juria, en un vose basa e tremante. The King turned pale, and shut his note-book hastily. “Consider your verdict,” he said to the jury, in a low trembling voice.
“On debe presenta ancora plu atestas, per favore, Altia,” la Coneo Blanca dise, saltante sur sua pedes en un freta grande: “Nos veni de reseta esta paper.” “There’s more evidence to come yet, please your Majesty,” said the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry: “this paper has just been picked up.”
“Cual el conteni?” la Rea dise. “What’s in it?” said the Queen.
“Me no ia comensa abri lo,” la Coneo Blanca dise; “ma lo pare es un letera, scriveda par la prisonida a—a algun.” “I haven’t opened it yet,” said the White Rabbit; “but it seems to be a letter, written by the prisoner to—to somebody.”
“Lo debe es tal,” la Re dise, “estra si on ia scrive lo a nun, e acel no ta es normal, tu sabe.” “It must have been that,” said the King, “unless it was written to nobody, which isn’t usual, you know.”
“A ci on ia adirije lo?” un de la juriores dise. “Who is it directed to?” said one of the jurymen.
“On tota no ia adirije lo,” la Coneo Blanca dise: “en fato, no cosa es scriveda sur la esterna.” El desplia la paper en cuando el parla, e ajunta: “Lo no es un letera, an pos tota. Lo es un colie de strofes.” “It isn’t directed at all,” said the White Rabbit: “in fact, there’s nothing written on the outside.” He unfolded the paper as he spoke, and added, “It isn’t a letter, after all: it’s a set of verses.”
“Esce los es en la scrive de mano de la prisonida?” un otra de la juriores demanda. “Are they in the prisoner’s handwriting?” asked another of the jurymen.
“No, tota no,” la Coneo Blanca dise, “e esta es la cosa la plu strana.” (Tota la juriores aspeta confondeda.) “No, they’re not,” said the White Rabbit, “and that’s the queerest thing about it.” (The jury all looked puzzled.)
“Clar, la prisonida ia imita la mano de un otra,” la Re dise. (Tota la juriores aspeta denova felis.) “He must have imitated somebody else’s hand,” said the King. (The jury all brightened up again.)
“Per favore, Altia,” la Cavalor dise, “me no ia scrive lo, e on no pote demostra ce me ia scrive lo. No nom es suscriveda a la fini.” “Please, your Majesty,” said the Knave, “I didn’t write it, and they ca’n’t prove I did: there’s no name signed at the end.”
“Si tu no ia suscrive lo,” la Re dise, “tu es en un situa ancora plu mal. Lo es clar ce tu ia intende alga malcondui, car tu no ia suscrive tua nom como un person onesta.” “If you didn’t sign it,” said the King, “that only makes the matter worse. You must have meant some mischief, or else you’d have signed your name like an honest man.”
Tota aplaudi pos esta: lo ia es la cosa prima de un spesie vera intelijente cual la Re ia dise oji. There was a general clapping of hands at this: it was the first really clever thing the King had said that day.
“Acel demostra ce el es culpable, natural,” la Rea dise: “donce, destesti—” “That proves his guilt, of course,” said the Queen: “so, off with——”
“Lo no demostra an un cosa simil!” Alisia dise. “Vera, vos no conose an la tema de la strofes!” “It doesn’t prove anything of the sort!” said Alice. “Why, you don’t even know what they’re about!”
“Leje los,” la Re dise. “Read them,” said the King.
La Coneo Blanca apone sua oculo. “Do me debe comensa, per favore, Altia?” el demanda. The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. “Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?” he asked.
“Comensa a la comensa,” la Re dise, multe seria, “e continua asta la ateni de la fini. Alora, sesa.” “Begin at the beginning,” the King said, very gravely, “and go on till you come to the end: then stop.”
On ave un silentia completa en la corte tra cuando la Coneo Blanca proclama esta strofes: There was dead silence in the court, whilst the White Rabbit read out these verses:—
On dis’ ce tu ia vide los,
    E nota me a el:
Los dis’ ce me no pote nad’
    Ma loda me con zel’.
They told me you had been to her,
    And mentioned me to him:
She gave me a good character,
    But said I could not swim.
El dis’ ce me ia vade no
    (Nos sabe la real):
E si el ta insiste plu,
    Tu ta deveni cual?
He sent them word I had not gone
    (We know it to be true):
If she should push the matter on,
    What would become of you?
Me dona un, los dona du,
    Tu dona tre a nos,
Ma los reveni ja a tu,
    Car me ia perde los.
I gave her one, they gave him two,
    You gave us three or more;
They all returned from him to you,
    Though they were mine before.
Si me o el ta es miscad’
    En esta caso, ta
Ce on fa ce tu libri los,
    Esata como ja.
If I or she should chance to be
    Involved in this affair,
He trusts to you to set them free,
    Exactly as we were.
Me ia suposa ce tu es
    Un ostacul’, ma no:
El es coler; tu veni entre
    Nos e los e lo.
My notion was that you had been
    (Before she had this fit)
An obstacle that came between
    Him, and ourselves, and it.
Revela no ce el prefere
    Los; acel, me pre’,
Ta resta sempre un secret’
    De sola tu e me.
Don’t let him know she liked them best,
    For this must ever be
A secret, kept from all the rest,
    Between yourself and me.
“Acel es la atesta la plu importante cual nos ia oia ja,” la Re dise, frotante sua manos; “donce aora, ta ce la juria—” “That’s the most important piece of evidence we’ve heard yet,” said the King, rubbing his hands; “so now let the jury——”
“Si cualcun de los pote esplica lo,” Alisia dise (el ia deveni tan grande en la minutos pasada ce el ave an no un teme pico de interompe el), “me va dona un moneta a el. Me no crede ce lo conteni an un atom de sinifia.” “If any one of them can explain it,” said Alice, (she had grown so large in the last few minutes that she wasn’t a bit afraid of interrupting him,) “I’ll give him sixpence. I don’t believe there’s an atom of meaning in it.”
Tota la juriores scrive, sur sua tabletas, “El no crede ce lo conteni an un atom de sinifia”, ma nun de los atenta esplica la paper. The jury all wrote down, on their slates, “She doesn’t believe there’s an atom of meaning in it,” but none of them attempted to explain the paper.
“Si lo conteni no sinifia,” la Re dise, “nos evita un monton de labora, tu sabe, car nos no nesesa esplora lo. An tal, me no es serta,” el continua, estendente la strofes sur sua jeno e regardante los con un oio; “me pare vide alga sinifia en los, an tal. ‘—dis’ ce me no pote nad’’—tu no es capas de nada, no?”—el ajunta, turnante a la Cavalor. “If there’s no meaning in it,” said the King, “that saves a world of trouble, you know, as we needn’t try to find any. And yet I don’t know,” he went on, spreading out the verses on his knee, and looking at them with one eye; “I seem to see some meaning in them, after all. ‘—said I could not swim—’—you ca’n’t swim, can you?” he added, turning to the Knave.
La Cavalor acorda triste con sua testa. “Esce me aspeta capas de nada?” el dise. (Serta, lo no pare tal, car el es intera composada de carton.) The Knave shook his head sadly. “Do I look like it?” he said. (Which he certainly did not, being made entirely of cardboard.)
“Bon asta aora,” la Re dise; e el continua murmura a se sur la strofes: “‘Nos sabe la real’—esta refere a la juria, natural—‘E si el ta insiste plu’—esta debe es la Rea—‘Tu ta deveni cual?’—Un bon demanda!—‘Me dona un, los dona du’—vide, lo es clar ce esta descrive lo cual el ia fa con la tartetas, tu sabe—” “All right, so far,” said the King; and he went on muttering over the verses to himself: “‘We know it to be true—’ that’s the jury, of course—‘If she should push the matter on’—that must be the Queen—‘What would become of you?’—What, indeed!—‘I gave her one, they gave him two—’ why, that must be what he did with the tarts, you know——”
“Ma lo continua con ‘los reveni ja a tu’,” Alisia dise. “But, it goes on ‘they all returned from him to you,’” said Alice.
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“E vide: los es asi!” la Re dise en vinse, indicante la tartetas sur la table. “No cosa pote es plu clar ca esta. E plu—‘El es coler’—mea cara, tu senti nunca coler, me crede?” el dise a la Rea. “Why, there they are!” said the King triumphantly, pointing to the tarts on the table. “Nothing can be clearer than that. Then again—‘before she had this fit’—you never had fits, my dear, I think?” he said to the Queen.
“Nunca!” la Rea dise, furiosa, lansante un portainca a la Lezardo en cuando el parla. (La peti Ben nonfortunosa ia sesa scrive sur sua tableta con un dito, car el ia trova ce lo lasa no marca; ma el recomensa fretosa aora, usante la inca cual flueta sur sua fas tra cuando lo dura.) “Never!” said the Queen, furiously, throwing an inkstand at the Lizard as she spoke. (The unfortunate little Bill had left off writing on his slate with one finger, as he found it made no mark; but he now hastily began again, using the ink, that was trickling down his face, as long as it lasted.)
“An si tu senti nunca coler, cisa tu sinci aora coler,” la Re dise, regardante a la corte con un surie. Cadun es tota silente. “Then the words don’t fit you,” said the King, looking round the court with a smile. There was a dead silence.
“Me ia fa un broma de parolas!” la Re ajunta en un tono iritada, e cadun rie. “Ta ce la juria considera e deside,” la Re dise, a cuasi la ves dudes de la dia. “It’s a pun!” the King added in an angry tone, and everybody laughed. “Let the jury consider their verdict,” the King said, for about the twentieth time that day.
“No, no!” la Rea dise. “On condena prima—on deside a pos.” “No, no!” said the Queen. “Sentence first—verdict afterwards.”
“Ba, asurda!” Alisia dise forte. “Tan riable ce la condena ta es prima!” “Stuff and nonsense!” said Alice loudly. “The idea of having the sentence first!”
“Silenti!” la Rea dise, purpurinte. “Hold your tongue!” said the Queen, turning purple.
“Tota no!” Alisia dise. “I wo’n’t!” said Alice.
“Destesti el!” la Rea cria tan forte como posible. Nun move. “Off with her head!” the Queen shouted at the top of her voice. Nobody moved.
Vos no importa!” Alisia dise (el ia ateni ja sua grandia normal). “Vos es no plu ca un colie de cartas!” “Who cares for you?” said Alice (she had grown to her full size by this time). “You’re nothing but a pack of cards!”
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A esta, tota la cartas vola tra la aira e desende cadente sur el; el fa un xilia peti, partal de teme e partal de coleria, e atenta bate los a via, e trova ce el reclina sur la colineta, con sua testa sur la jenos de sua sore, ci brosi dulse a via alga folias mor cual ia cade de la arbores, voletante sur sua fas. At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came flying down upon her; she gave a little scream, half of fright and half of anger, and tried to beat them off, and found herself lying on the bank, with her head in the lap of her sister, who was gently brushing away some dead leaves that had fluttered down from the trees upon her face.
“Velia, Alisia, mea cara!” sua sore dise. “Vera, tu ia dormi tan longa!” “Wake up, Alice dear!” said her sister. “Why, what a long sleep you’ve had!”
“O! me ia fa un sonia tan strana!” Alisia dise. E el raconta a sua sore, tan bon como el pote recorda los, tota esta aventuras strana sur cual tu veni de leje; e cuando el fini, sua sore besa el e dise: “Lo ia es serta un sonia strana, mea cara, vera; ma core aora a la casa per come: la ora deveni tarda.” Donce Alisia leva se e core a via, e en cuando el core, el pensa, con bon razona, ce el ia fa un sonia tan plen de mervelias. “Oh, I’ve had such a curious dream!” said Alice. And she told her sister, as well as she could remember them, all these strange Adventures of hers that you have just been reading about; and, when she had finished, her sister kissed her, and said, “It was a curious dream, dear, certainly; but now run in to your tea: it’s getting late.” So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been.
Ma sua sore senta ancora tal como Alisia ia lasa el, apoiante sua testa sur la mano, regardante la reposa de la sol, e pensante a la peti Alisia e tota sua aventuras merveliosa, asta cuando ance el comensa sonia en alga manera, e sua sonia es esta: But her sister sat still just as she left her, leaning her head on her hand, watching the setting sun, and thinking of little Alice and all her wonderful Adventures, till she too began dreaming after a fashion, and this was her dream:—
Prima, el imajina la peti Alisia mesma: denova, la manos pico es abrasada sur sua vasto, e la oios briliante regarda zelosa la suas—el pote oia la tonos mesma de sua vose, e vide acel peti secute strana de sua testa per controla la capeles vagante cual vole sempre cade ante sua oios—e en cuando el escuta, o pare escuta, tota la loca ambiente deveni poplida par la animales strana de la sonia de sua sore peti. First, she dreamed of little Alice herself: once again the tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes were looking up into hers—she could hear the very tones of her voice, and see that queer little toss of her head to keep back the wandering hair that would always get into her eyes—and still as she listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place around her became alive with the strange creatures of her little sister’s dream.
La erba longa xuxa a sua pedes en cuando la Coneo Blanca pasa fretante—la Mus asustada plufi tra la stange prosima—el oia la clicas de la copas de te en cuando la Lepre de Marto e sua amis comparti sua bevi sin fini, e la vose xiliante de la Rea cual comanda la esecuta de sua invitadas nonfortunosa—a un ves nova, la bebe porcin stornui sur la jeno de la Duxesa, en cuando platos e boles rompe sirca el—a un ves nova, la aira es plenida par la cria de la Grifon, la grinse de la peneta de la Lezardo, e la jemis de la cavias supresada, miscada con la sanglotas distante de la Tortuga Falsa misera. The long grass rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit hurried by—the frightened Mouse splashed his way through the neighbouring pool—she could hear the rattle of the teacups as the March Hare and his friends shared their never-ending meal, and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate guests to execution—once more the pig-baby was sneezing on the Duchess’s knee, while plates and dishes crashed around it—once more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard’s slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable Mock Turtle.
Donce el senta plu, con oios cluida, e crede cuasi ce el mesma es en la Pais de Mervelias, an si el sabe ce si el fa no plu ca reabri sua oios, tota va cambia a la realia comun—la erba va es mera xuxante en la venta, e la stange va es ondetante su la moves de la juncos—la copas clicante va cambia a la campanas tintinante de la oveas, e la crias xiliante de la Rea va deveni la vose de la pastor enfante—e la stornui de la bebe, la cria de la Grifon, e tota la otra sonas strana va cambia (el sabe) a la ruidos confusada de la patio de la cultiveria—e la mui de la boves distante va sustitui se per la sanglotas lamentosa de la Tortuga Falsa. So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality—the grass would be only rustling in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the reeds—the rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep-bells, and the Queen’s shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd boy—and the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, and all the other queer noises, would change (she knew) to the confused clamour of the busy farm-yard—while the lowing of the cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle’s heavy sobs.
Final, el imaji en sua mente ce sua sore peti va deveni mesma un fem adulte en la tempo seguente; ce el va reteni, tra tota sua anios plu matur, la cor simple e amante de sua enfantia; ce el va colie sirca se la peti enfantes nova, ci mesma va escuta con oios briliante e zelosa la multe naras strana, cisa an la sonia de la Pais de Mervelias de la tempo tan distante; e ce el va compatia los en tota sua tristias noncomplicada, e trova un plaser en tota sua joias pur, recordante sua propre enfantia e la dias felis de estate. Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood; and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago; and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.
La fini THE END.
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