TRA LA MIROR
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Capitol 8: “Me mesma ia inventa lo”

Chapter VIII. “IT’S MY OWN INVENTION.”

Pos un tempo, la ruido pare cuieti gradal asta cuando tota es intera silente, e Alisia leva alga alarmada sua testa. Nun es vidable, e sua pensa prima es ce sin duta el ia sonia la Leon e la Unicorno e acel mesajores anglosason strana. An tal, ancora reposante ala a sua pedes es la plato grande, sur cual el ia atenta talia la torta de pruna. “Donce me no ia sonia, an pos tota,” el dise a se, “estra si—estra si tota de nos es partes de la mesma sonia. Ma me espera vera ce lo es la sonia de me e no de la Re Roja! Me no gusta parteni a la sonia de un otra person,” el continua en un tono alga cexante: “me desira multe vade per velia el, per vide lo cual ta aveni!”

After a while the noise seemed gradually to die away, till all was dead silence, and Alice lifted up her head in some alarm. There was no one to be seen, and her first thought was that she must have been dreaming about the Lion and the Unicorn and those queer Anglo-Saxon Messengers. However, there was the great dish still lying at her feet, on which she had tried to cut the plum-cake. “So I wasn’t dreaming, after all,” she said to herself, “unless—unless we’re all part of the same dream. Only I do hope it’s my dream, and not the Red King’s! I don’t like belonging to another person’s dream,” she went on in a rather complaining tone: “I’ve a great mind to go and wake him, and see what happens!”

A esta momento, sua pensas es interompeda par un cria forte de “He! He! Xace!”, e un Cavalero vestida en armur carmesi prosimi galopante a el, brandinte un baston grande. A punto de ateni Alisia, la cavalo para subita: “Tu es mea prisonida!” la Cavalero esclama, cadente de sua cavalo.

At this moment her thoughts were interrupted by a loud shouting of “Ahoy! Ahoy! Check!” and a Knight dressed in crimson armour came galloping down upon her, brandishing a great club. Just as he reached her, the horse stopped suddenly: “You’re my prisoner!” the Knight cried, as he tumbled off his horse.

An si el es surprendeda, Alisia teme plu per la Cavalero ca per se a esta momento, e el oserva el con alga ansia en cuando el monta denova. Direta cuando el es comfortosa sur la sela, el comensa denova “Tu es mea—”, ma asi un otra vose interompe “He! He! Xace!” e Alisia turna sua regarda con alga surprende per vide la enemi nova.

Startled as she was, Alice was more frightened for him than for herself at the moment, and watched him with some anxiety as he mounted again. As soon as he was comfortably in the saddle, he began once more “You’re my—” but here another voice broke in “Ahoy! Ahoy! Check!” and Alice looked round in some surprise for the new enemy.

A esta ves, el es un Cavalero Blanca. El para a lado de Alisia, e cade de sua cavalo esata como la Cavalero Roja a ante: alora el remonta lo, e la du Cavaleros senta e regarda lunlotra tra alga tempo sin parla. Alisia regarda la un e la otra en alga confusa.

This time it was a White Knight. He drew up at Alice’s side, and tumbled off his horse just as the Red Knight had done: then he got on again, and the two Knights sat and looked at each other for some time without speaking. Alice looked from one to the other in some bewilderment.

“El es mea prisonida, tu sabe!” la Cavalero Roja dise final.

“She’s my prisoner, you know!” the Red Knight said at last.

“Si, ma alora me ia ariva per salva el!” la Cavalero Blanca responde.

“Yes, but then I came and rescued her!” the White Knight replied.

“Bon, donce nos debe combate per el,” la Cavalero Roja dise, prendente sua elmo (cual pende de la sela, e ave alga la forma de un testa de cavalo) e aponente lo.

“Well, we must fight for her, then,” said the Red Knight, as he took up his helmet (which hung from the saddle, and was something the shape of a horse’s head), and put it on.

“Tu va segue la Regulas de Batalia, natural?” la Cavalero Blanca comenta, ance aponente sua elmo.

“You will observe the Rules of Battle, of course?” the White Knight remarked, putting on his helmet too.

“Como sempre,” la Cavalero Roja dise, e los comensa la ata de bate lunlotra con tan multe furia ce Alisia vade pos un arbor per evita la colpas.

“I always do,” said the Red Knight, and they began banging away at each other with such fury that Alice got behind a tree to be out of the way of the blows.

“Ma me vole sabe cual es la Regulas de Batalia,” el dise a se, oservante la combate, e timida regardante de sua loca de asconde: “un Regula pare ce, si un Cavalero colpa la otra, el cade el de sua cavalo, e si el no colpa, el mesma cade—e un otra Regula pare ce los teni sua bastones con sua brasos, como pupetas—Los fa un ruido tan grande cuando los cade! Esata como un colie completa de utiles de fero cual cade sur la gardafoco! E la cavalos es tan cuieta! Los permete ce la Cavaleros monta e desmonta los esata como si los ta es tables!”

“I wonder, now, what the Rules of Battle are,” she said to herself, as she watched the fight, timidly peeping out from her hiding-place: “one Rule seems to be, that if one Knight hits the other, he knocks him off his horse, and if he misses, he tumbles off himself—and another Rule seems to be that they hold their clubs with their arms, as if they were Punch and Judy—What a noise they make when they tumble! Just like a whole set of fire-irons falling into the fender! And how quiet the horses are! They let them get on and off them just as if they were tables!”

Un otra Regula de Batalia, cual Alisia no ia persepi, pare ce los cade sempre sur sua testas, e la batalia fini cuando ambos de los cade en esta modo, la un a lado de la otra: cuando los sta denova, los presa la manos, e alora la Cavalero Roja monta e galopa a via.

Another Rule of Battle, that Alice had not noticed, seemed to be that they always fell on their heads, and the battle ended with their both falling off in this way, side by side: when they got up again, they shook hands, and then the Red Knight mounted and galloped off.

“La vinse ia es gloriosa, no?” la Cavalero Blanca dise, prosiminte con respira rapida.

“It was a glorious victory, wasn’t it?” said the White Knight, as he came up panting.

“Me no sabe,” Alisia dise dutosa. “Me no desira es la prisonida de cualcun. Me desira es un Rea.”

“I don’t know,” Alice said doubtfully. “I don’t want to be anybody’s prisoner. I want to be a Queen.”

“Tu va deveni un Rea pos traversa la rieta seguente,” la Cavalero Blanca dise. “Me va acompania per proteje tu asta la fini de la bosce—e alora me debe revade, tu sabe. Acel va es la fini de mea move.”

“So you will, when you’ve crossed the next brook,” said the White Knight. “I’ll see you safe to the end of the wood—and then I must go back, you know. That’s the end of my move.”

“Multe grasias,” Alisia dise. “Ta ce me aida tu a desapone tua elmo?” Evidente, esta es plu ca la Cavalero pote fa mesma; an tal, Alisia susede final libri el de lo par secute.

“Thank you very much,” said Alice. “May I help you off with your helmet?” It was evidently more than he could manage by himself; however, she managed to shake him out of it at last.

“Aora on pote respira plu fasil,” la Cavalero dise, retirante sua capeles pelosa con ambos manos, e turnante sua fas jentil e sua oios grande e umil a Alisia. El pensa ce el ia vide nunca un soldato de aspeta tan strana en sua vive intera.

“Now one can breathe more easily,” said the Knight, putting back his shaggy hair with both hands, and turning his gentle face and large mild eyes to Alice. She thought she had never seen such a strange-looking soldier in all her life.

El es vestida en armur de stanio, cual pare multe malajustada per el, e un caxa peti de pino con forma strana es fisada sur sua spala, inversada e abrida, car sua covrente pende. Alisia regarda lo con multe curiosia.

He was dressed in tin armour, which seemed to fit him very badly, and he had a queer-shaped little deal box fastened across his shoulder, upside-down, and with the lid hanging open. Alice looked at it with great curiosity.

“Me vide ce tu amira mea caxa peti,” la Cavalero dise en un tono amin. “Me mesma ia inventa lo—per conteni vestes e sanduixes. Tu vide ce lo es inversada, afin la pluve no pote entra.”

“I see you’re admiring my little box,” the Knight said in a friendly tone. “It’s my own invention—to keep clothes and sandwiches in. You see I carry it upside-down, so that the rain can’t get in.”

“Ma la cosas pote sorti,” Alisia comenta jentil. “Esce tu sabe ce la covrente es abrida?”

“But the things can get out,” Alice gently remarked. “Do you know the lid’s open?”

“Me no ia sabe,” la Cavalero dise, e un ombra de frustra pasa sur sua fas. “Donce tota la cosas ia cade de lo, sin duta! E la caxa ave no valua sin los.” El desfisa lo an cuando el parla, e es a punto de lansa lo a la arboretas cuando un idea pare subita veni a el, e, atendente, el pende lo sur un arbor. “Esce tu pote divina perce me ia fa acel?” el dise a Alisia.

“I didn’t know it,” the Knight said, a shade of vexation passing over his face. “Then all the things must have fallen out! And the box is no use without them.” He unfastened it as he spoke, and was just going to throw it into the bushes, when a sudden thought seemed to strike him, and he hung it carefully on a tree. “Can you guess why I did that?” he said to Alice.

Alisia nega con sua testa.

Alice shook her head.

“Con la espera ce abeas va nidi en lo—alora me ta reseta la miel.”

“In hopes some bees may make a nest in it—then I should get the honey.”

“Ma tu ave un aberia—o un cosa simil a un tal—fisada a la sela,” Alisia dise.

“But you’ve got a bee-hive—or something like one—fastened to the saddle,” said Alice.

“Si, lo es un aberia multe bon,” la Cavalero dise en un tono noncontente, “un de la spesie la plu bon. Ma ancora an no un abea ia prosimi a lo. E la otra cosa es un caturamus. Me suposa ce la muses forsa la abeas a via—o la abeas forsa la muses a via, me no sabe cual.”

“Yes, it’s a very good bee-hive,” the Knight said in a discontented tone, “one of the best kind. But not a single bee has come near it yet. And the other thing is a mouse-trap. I suppose the mice keep the bees out—or the bees keep the mice out, I don’t know which.”

“Me ia vole demanda la intende de la caturamus,” Alisia dise. “Lo no es multe probable ce muses ta veni sur la dorso de la cavalo.”

“I was wondering what the mouse-trap was for,” said Alice. “It isn’t very likely there would be any mice on the horse’s back.”

“Cisa no multe probable,” la Cavalero dise: “ma si los ta veni an tal, me prefere ce los no core sur tota partes.”

“Not very likely, perhaps,” said the Knight: “but if they do come, I don’t choose to have them running all about.”

“Tu vide,” el continua pos un pausa, “on fa la plu bon si on es preparada per cualce aveni. Per esta razona, la cavalo ave tota acel brasaletas sirca sua pedes.”

“You see,” he went on after a pause, “it’s as well to be provided for everything. That’s the reason the horse has all those anklets round his feet.”

“Ma perce?” Alisia demanda en un tono de multe curiosia.

“But what are they for?” Alice asked in a tone of great curiosity.

“Per garda contra la mordes de selacos,” la Cavalero responde. “Me mesma ia inventa lo. E aora aida me a monta. Me va acompania tu asta la fini de la bosce—Perce tu ave la plato?”

“To guard against the bites of sharks,” the Knight replied. “It’s an invention of my own. And now help me on. I’ll go with you to the end of the wood—What’s the dish for?”

“Lo es per torta de pruna,” Alisia dise.

“It’s meant for plum-cake,” said Alice.

“Ta ce nos prende lo con nos,” la Cavalero dise. “Lo va deveni usosa si nos trova un torta de pruna. Aida me a pone lo en esta saco.”

“We’d better take it with us,” the Knight said. “It’ll come in handy if we find any plum-cake. Help me to get it into this bag.”

La reali de esta ocupa un tempo multe longa, an si Alisia teni multe atendosa la saco abrida, car la Cavalero es tan multe torpe en introdui la plato: a sua du o tre atentas prima, el mesma cade en la saco en loca. “La saco ave poca spasio libre, tu vide,” el dise, cuando los susede final saci lo; “lo conteni ja tan multe portacandelas.” E el pende lo de la sela, cual es ja cargada con grupos de carotas, e utiles de foco, e multe otra cosas.

This took a very long time to manage, though Alice held the bag open very carefully, because the Knight was so very awkward in putting in the dish: the first two or three times that he tried he fell in himself instead. “It’s rather a tight fit, you see,” he said, as they got it in at last; “there are so many candlesticks in the bag.” And he hung it to the saddle, which was already loaded with bunches of carrots, and fire-irons, and many other things.

“Me espera ce tua capeles es bon fisada?” el continua, cuando los comensa en via.

“I hope you’ve got your hair well fastened on?” he continued, as they set off.

“Sola en la modo usual,” Alisia dise, suriente.

“Only in the usual way,” Alice said, smiling.

“Acel sufisi apena,” el dise, ansiosa. “Tu vide, la venta es tan multe forte asi. Lo es tan forte como un sopa.”

“That’s hardly enough,” he said, anxiously. “You see the wind is so very strong here. It’s as strong as soup.”

“Esce tu ia inventa un scema per impedi ce la capeles vola a via?” Alisia demanda.

“Have you invented a plan for keeping the hair from being blown off?” Alice enquired.

“Ancora no,” la Cavalero dise. “Ma me ave un scema per impedi ce los cade a via.”

“Not yet,” said the Knight. “But I’ve got a plan for keeping it from falling off.”

“Me ta gusta multe oia lo, vera.”

“I should like to hear it, very much.”

“Prima on prende un basto vertical,” la Cavalero dise. “Alora on fa ce sua capeles asende rampente lo, como un arbor de frutas. Bon, la capeles cade a via car los pende a su—cosas cade nunca a supra, tu sabe. Me mesma ia inventa la scema. Tu pote proba lo si lo plase.”

“First you take an upright stick,” said the Knight. “Then you make your hair creep up it, like a fruit-tree. Now the reason hair falls off is because it hangs down—things never fall upwards, you know. It’s a plan of my own invention. You may try it if you like.”

Lo no sona como un scema comfortosa, Alisia pensa, e tra alga minutos el continua pasea en silentia, considerante la idea, e parante de ves a ves per aida la Cavalero povre, ci es serta no un bon montor.

It didn’t sound a comfortable plan, Alice thought, and for a few minutes she walked on in silence, puzzling over the idea, and every now and then stopping to help the poor Knight, who certainly was not a good rider.

Sempre cuando la cavalo para (e esta aveni multe frecuente), el cade ante lo; e sempre cuando lo continua denova (e esta aveni jeneral alga subita), el cade pos lo. A otra veses, el resta sentante sufisinte bon, ma el ave un abitua de cade a lado de ves a ves; e car el fa usual esta a la lado do Alisia pasea, el trova pronto ce la solve la plu bon es ce el no ta pasea tan prosima a la cavalo.

Whenever the horse stopped (which it did very often), he fell off in front; and whenever it went on again (which it generally did rather suddenly), he fell off behind. Otherwise he kept on pretty well, except that he had a habit of now and then falling off sideways; and as he generally did this on the side on which Alice was walking, she soon found that it was the best plan not to walk quite close to the horse.

“Me regrete ce tu no es multe esperiosa de monta cavalos,” el osa dise, en cuando el aida el a sta pos sua cade sinco.

“I’m afraid you’ve not had much practice in riding,” she ventured to say, as she was helping him up from his fifth tumble.

La Cavalero aspeta multe surprendeda, e alga ofendeda par la comenta. “Perce tu dise acel?” el demanda, en cuando el retrepa a la sela, teninte la capeles de Alisia con un mano per evita cade a la otra lado.

The Knight looked very much surprised, and a little offended at the remark. “What makes you say that?” he asked, as he scrambled back into the saddle, keeping hold of Alice’s hair with one hand, to save himself from falling over on the other side.

“Car on no cade tan estrema frecuente cuando on es multe esperiosa.”

“Because people don’t fall off quite so often, when they’ve had much practice.”

“Me es multe esperiosa,” la Cavalero dise vera seria: “multe esperiosa!”

“I’ve had plenty of practice,” the Knight said very gravely: “plenty of practice!”

Alisia pote imajina no cosa plu bon per dise ca “Vera?”, ma el parla tan zelosa como posible. Los continua tra alga tempo en silentia pos esta, con la Cavalero teninte sua oios cluida e murmurante a se, e Alisia ansiosa espetante la cade veninte.

Alice could think of nothing better to say than “Indeed?” but she said it as heartily as she could. They went on a little way in silence after this, the Knight with his eyes shut, muttering to himself, and Alice watching anxiously for the next tumble.

“La tecnica major de monta,” la Cavalero comensa subita en un vose forte, brandinte sua braso destra an cuando el parla, “es la bon—” Asi la frase fini tan subita como lo ia comensa, cuando la Cavalero cade pesosa sur la culmina de sua testa esata ante la loca do Alisia pasea. Alisia es multe asustada a esta ves, e dise en un tono ansiosa en cuando el releva el, “me espera ce no osos es rompeda?”

“The great art of riding,” the Knight suddenly began in a loud voice, waving his right arm as he spoke, “is to keep—” Here the sentence ended as suddenly as it had begun, as the Knight fell heavily on the top of his head exactly in the path where Alice was walking. She was quite frightened this time, and said in an anxious tone, as she picked him up, “I hope no bones are broken?”

“No osos importante,” la Cavalero dise, como si el no es turbada par la rompe de du o tre de los. “La tecnica major de monta, como me ia es disente, es—la bon ecuilibra. En esta modo, tu sabe—”

“None to speak of,” the Knight said, as if he didn’t mind breaking two or three of them. “The great art of riding, as I was saying, is—to keep your balance properly. Like this, you know—”

El desteni la brida, e estende ambos sua brasos per mostra a Alisia lo cual el vole dise, e a esta ves el cade a plata sur sua dorso, direta su la pedes de la cavalo.

He let go the bridle, and stretched out both his arms to show Alice what he meant, and this time he fell flat on his back, right under the horse’s feet.

“Multe esperiosa!” el continua repete, tra tota la tempo cuando Alisia pone el denova sur sua pedes. “Multe esperiosa!”

“Plenty of practice!” he went on repeating, all the time that Alice was getting him on his feet again. “Plenty of practice!”

“Lo es tan riable!” Alisia esclama, perdente tota sua pasientia a esta ves. “Tu debe ave un cavalo de lenio sur rotas, tu debe vera!”

“It’s too ridiculous!” cried Alice, losing all her patience this time. “You ought to have a wooden horse on wheels, that you ought!”

“Esce acel spesie vade lisa?” la Cavalero demanda en un tono de interesa grande, fisante sua brasos sirca la colo de la cavalo en cuando el parla, cuasi tro tarda per evita cade denova.

“Does that kind go smoothly?” the Knight asked in a tone of great interest, clasping his arms round the horse’s neck as he spoke, just in time to save himself from tumbling off again.

“Multe tro lisa ca un cavalo vivente,” Alisia dise, con un xilia peti de rie, an con tota sua atentas de preveni lo.

“Much more smoothly than a live horse,” Alice said, with a little scream of laughter, in spite of all she could do to prevent it.

“Me va oteni un tal,” la Cavalero dise pensosa a se. “Un o du—alga.”

“I’ll get one,” the Knight said thoughtfully to himself. “One or two—several.”

On ave un silentia corta pos esta, e alora la Cavalero continua denova. “Me es multe capas de inventa. Bon, sin duta tu ia vide, a acel ves la plu resente de releva me, ce me ia aspeta alga pensosa.”

There was a short silence after this, and then the Knight went on again. “I’m a great hand at inventing things. Now, I daresay you noticed, that last time you picked me up, that I was looking rather thoughtful?”

“Tu ia es serta alga seria,” Alisia dise.

“You were a little grave,” said Alice.

“Bon, a acel momento, me ia inventa un modo nova de traversa un porteta—tu ta gusta oia lo?”

“Well, just then I was inventing a new way of getting over a gate—would you like to hear it?”

“Si, vera multe,” Alisia dise cortes.

“Very much indeed,” Alice said politely.

“Me va dise como la idea ia veni a me,” la Cavalero dise. “Tu vide, me ia dise a me, ‘La sola problem conserna la pedes: la testa es ja sufisinte alta.’ Bon, prima me pone mea testa sur la apico de la porteta—alora me sta sur mea testa—alora la pedes es sufisinte alta, tu vide—alora me traversa ja, tu vide.”

“I’ll tell you how I came to think of it,” said the Knight. “You see, I said to myself, ‘The only difficulty is with the feet: the head is high enough already.’ Now, first I put my head on the top of the gate—then I stand on my head—then the feet are high enough, you see—then I’m over, you see.”

“Si, me suposa ce tu ta traversa ja pos fa acel,” Alisia dise pensosa: “ma esce tu no pensa ce lo ta es alga difisil?”

“Yes, I suppose you’d be over when that was done,” Alice said thoughtfully: “but don’t you think it would be rather hard?”

“Me ancora no ia proba lo,” la Cavalero dise, seria: “donce me no pote judi serta—ma si, me teme ce lo ta es pico difisil.”

“I haven’t tried it yet,” the Knight said, gravely: “so I can’t tell for certain—but I’m afraid it would be a little hard.”

El aspeta tan frustrada par la idea ce Alisia cambia rapida la tema. “Tu ave un elmo tan nonusual!” el dise bonumorosa. “Esce tu ia inventa ance acel?”

He looked so vexed at the idea, that Alice changed the subject hastily. “What a curious helmet you’ve got!” she said cheerfully. “Is that your invention too?”

La Cavalero basi orgulosa sua regarda a sua elmo, cual pende de la sela. “Si,” el dise, “ma me ia inventa un plu bon ca acel—simil a un cono de zucar. Cuando me ia porta lo, sempre cuando me ia cade de la cavalo, lo ia toca direta la tera. Donce la distantia de mea cade ia es multe corta, tu sabe—Ma vera, un peril ia esiste de cade a en lo, serta. Acel ia aveni a me a un ves—e la cosa la plu mal ia es ce, ante cuando me ia pote estrae me denova, la otra Cavalero Blanca ia veni e apone lo. El ia crede ce lo es sua propre elmo.”

The Knight looked down proudly at his helmet, which hung from the saddle. “Yes,” he said, “but I’ve invented a better one than that—like a sugar loaf. When I used to wear it, if I fell off the horse, it always touched the ground directly. So I had a very little way to fall, you see—But there was the danger of falling into it, to be sure. That happened to me once—and the worst of it was, before I could get out again, the other White Knight came and put it on. He thought it was his own helmet.”

La Cavalero aspeta tan seria sur esta ce Alisia no osa rie. “Me teme ce probable tu ia dole el,” el dise en un vose tremante, “car tu ia es sur la culmina de sua testa.”

The Knight looked so solemn about it that Alice did not dare to laugh. “I’m afraid you must have hurt him,” she said in a trembling voice, “being on the top of his head.”

“Me ia debe pedi el, natural,” la Cavalero dise, multe seria. “E alora el desapone denova la elmo—ma on ia nesesa multe oras per estrae me. Me ia es tan trapida como—como la lampo, tu sabe.”

“I had to kick him, of course,” the Knight said, very seriously. “And then he took the helmet off again—but it took hours and hours to get me out. I was as fast as—as lightning, you know.”

“Ma acel es rapida, no trapida,” Alisia oposa.

“But that’s a different kind of fastness,” Alice objected.

La Cavalero nega con sua testa. “Me ia es rapida trapida, me serti a tu!” el dise. Alga stimulada, el leva sua manos en cuando el dise esta, e rola direta de sur la sela, e cade pos sua testa en un foso profonda.

The Knight shook his head. “It was all kinds of fastness with me, I can assure you!” he said. He raised his hands in some excitement as he said this, and instantly rolled out of the saddle, and fell headlong into a deep ditch.

Alisia core a la lado de la foso per xerca el. El es alga surprendeda par la cade, car tra alga tempo la Cavalero ia senta alga bon, e el teme ce el es vera ferida a esta ves. An tal, an si el vide no cosa plu ca la fundas de sua pedes, el es multe lejerida par oia ce el continua parla en sua tono usual. “Rapida trapida,” la Cavalero repete: “ma el ia es nonatendente en apone la elmo de un otra om—an cuando la om ia es portante lo, plu.”

Alice ran to the side of the ditch to look for him. She was rather startled by the fall, as for some time he had kept on very well, and she was afraid that he really was hurt this time. However, though she could see nothing but the soles of his feet, she was much relieved to hear that he was talking on in his usual tone. “All kinds of fastness,” he repeated: “but it was careless of him to put another man’s helmet on—with the man in it, too.”

“Como tu pote continua parla tan calma, con tua testa a su?” Alisia demanda en cuando el tira el par sua pedes e reposa el en desordina sur la riva.

“How can you go on talking so quietly, head downwards?” Alice asked, as she dragged him out by the feet, and laid him in a heap on the bank.

La Cavalero aspeta surprendeda par la demanda. “Perce la loca acaso de mea corpo es importante?” el dise. “Mea mente labora ancora en la mesma modo. En fato, plu mea testa es a su, plu me continua inventa cosas nova.”

The Knight looked surprised at the question. “What does it matter where my body happens to be?” he said. “My mind goes on working all the same. In fact, the more head downwards I am, the more I keep inventing new things.”

“E la cosa la plu astuta de esta spesie cual me ia fa ja,” el continua pos un pausa, “ia es inventa un deser nova an en come la plato de carne.”

“Now the cleverest thing of the sort that I ever did,” he went on after a pause, “was inventing a new pudding during the meat-course.”

“A bon momento per fa ce on coce lo per la plato seguente?” Alisia dise. “Bon, acel ia es serta un ateni rapida!”

“In time to have it cooked for the next course?” said Alice. “Well, that was quick work, certainly!”

“Ma no la plato seguente,” la Cavalero dise en un tono lenta e pensosa: “no, serta no la plato seguente.”

“Well, not the next course,” the Knight said in a slow thoughtful tone: “no, certainly not the next course.”

“Donce sin duta per la dia seguente. Me suposa ce tu no ta come du platos de deser en un sola come de sera?”

“Then it would have to be the next day. I suppose you wouldn’t have two pudding-courses in one dinner?”

“Ma no la dia seguente,” la Cavalero repete como a ante: “no la dia seguente. En fato,” el continua, teninte basa sua testa en cuando sua vose deveni sempre plu cuieta, “me crede ce acel deser ia es nunca coceda! En fato, me crede ce acel deser va es nunca coceda! E an tal, lo ia es un deser multe astuta inventada.”

“Well, not the next day,” the Knight repeated as before: “not the next day. In fact,” he went on, holding his head down, and his voice getting lower and lower, “I don’t believe that pudding ever was cooked! In fact, I don’t believe that pudding ever will be cooked! And yet it was a very clever pudding to invent.”

“Cual ta es tua ingredientes per lo?” Alisia demanda, esperante refelisi el, car la Cavalero povre pare intera triste sur lo.

“What did you mean it to be made of?” Alice asked, hoping to cheer him up, for the poor Knight seemed quite low-spirited about it.

“Lo ia comensa con paper secinte,” la Cavalero responde jeminte.

“It began with blotting paper,” the Knight answered with a groan.

“Acel no ta sabori multe bon, me teme—”

“That wouldn’t be very nice, I’m afraid—”

“No multe bon cuando solitar,” el interompe, vera zelosa: “ma tu no comprende cuanto lo cambia si on misca lo con otra cosas—como polvo negra e siro de seli. E asi me debe parti de tu.” Los veni de ariva a la fini de la bosce.

“Not very nice alone,” he interrupted, quite eagerly: “but you’ve no idea what a difference it makes mixing it with other things—such as gunpowder and sealing-wax. And here I must leave you.” They had just come to the end of the wood.

Alisia pote sola aspeta confondeda: el considera la deser.

Alice could only look puzzled: she was thinking of the pudding.

“Tu es triste,” la Cavalero en un tono ansiosa: “ta ce me fa un canta per consola tu.”

“You are sad,” the Knight said in an anxious tone: “let me sing you a song to comfort you.”

“Esce lo es multe longa?” Alisia demanda, car el ia oia ja un monton de poesias a esta dia.

“Is it very long?” Alice asked, for she had heard a good deal of poetry that day.

“Lo es longa,” la Cavalero dise, “ma vera multe bela. Per cadun ci oia me cantante lo—o lo veni larmas a sua oios, o lo—”

“It’s long,” said the Knight, “but very, very beautiful. Everybody that hears me sing it—either it brings the tears into their eyes, or else—”

“O lo fa cual?” Alisia dise, car la Cavalero ia fa un pausa subita.

“Or else what?” said Alice, for the Knight had made a sudden pause.

“O lo no veni los, tu sabe. La titulo de la canta es nomida ‘Oios d’ eglefin’.”

“Or else it doesn’t, you know. The name of the song is called ‘Haddocks’ Eyes’.”

“O! acel es la titulo de la canta, si?” Alisia dise, atentante senti interesada.

“Oh, that’s the name of the song, is it?” Alice said, trying to feel interested.

“No, tu no comprende,” la Cavalero dise, con aspeta pico frustrada. “Acel es como la titulo es nomida. La titulo es vera ‘La senesente’.”

“No, you don’t understand,” the Knight said, looking a little vexed. “That’s what the name is called. The name really is ‘The Aged Aged Man’.”

“Donce me ia ta debe dise ‘Acel es como la canta es nomida’?” Alisia coreti se.

“Then I ought to have said ‘That’s what the song is called’?” Alice corrected herself.

“Ma no, no: acel es un cosa intera diferente! La canta es nomida ‘Modos e metodos’: ma acel es sola como lo es nomida, tu sabe!”

“No, you oughtn’t: that’s quite another thing! The song is called ‘Ways and Means’: but that’s only what it’s called, you know!”

“Bon, donce cual es la canta?” Alisia dise, ja completa confondeda a esta punto.

“Well, what is the song, then?” said Alice, who was by this time completely bewildered.

“Me ia intende dise acel,” la Cavalero dise. “La canta es vera ‘Sentante sur porteta’: e me mesma ia inventa la melodia.”

“I was coming to that,” the Knight said. “The song really is ‘A-sitting on a Gate’: and the tune’s my own invention.”

Pos dise esta, el para sua cavalo e lasa ce la redines cade sur sua colo: alora, lenta batente un mano a tempo, e con un surie peti cual fresci sua fas jentil e fol, como si el saborea la musica de sua canta, el comensa.

So saying, he stopped his horse and let the reins fall on its neck: then, slowly beating time with one hand, and with a faint smile lighting up his gentle foolish face, as if he enjoyed the music of his song, he began.

Entre tota la cosas strana cual Alisia ia vide en sua viaja Tra la Miror, esta es lo cual el recorda sempre la plu clar. En anios plu tarda el pote recorda la sena intera, como si lo ia aveni tan resente como ier—la oios umil azul e la surie jentil de la Cavalero—la sol reposante cual brilia tra sua capeles e lumina sua armur con un lus ardente, cuasi siecinte—la cavalo cual move cuieta de asi a ala, con la redines laxe pendente sur sua colo, recoliente la erba a la pedes de Alisia—e la ombras negra de la foresta per fondo—el asorbe tota de esta como un depinta en cuando, con un mano ombrinte sua oios, el apoia a un arbor, oservante la duple strana, e escutante, partal en sonia, la musica melancolica de la canta.

Of all the strange things that Alice saw in her journey Through The Looking-Glass, this was the one that she always remembered most clearly. Years afterwards she could bring the whole scene back again, as if it had been only yesterday—the mild blue eyes and kindly smile of the Knight—the setting sun gleaming through his hair, and shining on his armour in a blaze of light that quite dazzled her—the horse quietly moving about, with the reins hanging loose on his neck, cropping the grass at her feet—and the black shadows of the forest behind—all this she took in like a picture, as, with one hand shading her eyes, she leant against a tree, watching the strange pair, and listening, in a half dream, to the melancholy music of the song.

“Ma el no ia inventa la melodia,” el dise a se: “lo es de ‘A tu me vole dona tot’’.” El sta e escuta multe atendente, ma no larmas apare en sua oios.

“But the tune isn’t his own invention,” she said to herself: “it’s ‘I give thee all, I can no more’.” She stood and listened very attentively, but no tears came into her eyes.

A tu me va raconta tot’;
    An cuando noncoreta.
Me vide ja un senesent’
    Sentante sur porteta.
“O! vea, ci es tu?” me dis’,
    “Tu vive su cual gida?”
Sua dises flue tra mea ment’
    Com’ acua tamisida.
I’ll tell thee everything I can;
    There’s little to relate.
I saw an aged aged man,
    A-sitting on a gate.
“Who are you, aged man?” I said,
    “and how is it you live?”
And his answer trickled through my head
    Like water through a sieve.
“Me xasa la papilios
    Cual en la trigo jua:
De los me crea tartes
    Cual me vende en la rua.
Me vende los,” el dis’, “a
    Navigores de la acua;
En esta mod’ me susta me—
    Un mod’ fasil ma vacua.”
He said “I look for butterflies
    That sleep among the wheat:
I make them into mutton-pies,
    And sell them in the street.
I sell them unto men,” he said,
    “Who sail on stormy seas;
And that’s the way I get my bread—
    A trifle, if you please.”
Ma ja me imajin’ un scem’
    Per tinje verd’ mea barba,
E resta pos un ventador
    Afin nun ta regarda.
E en responde a la parl’
    De l’ vea, me esclama,
“Tu vive su cual gida?”
    E me pedi bon sua gama.
But I was thinking of a plan
    To dye one’s whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
    That they could not be seen.
So, having no reply to give
    To what the old man said,
I cried, “Come, tell me how you live!”
    And thumped him on the head.
Sua vos’ jentil raconta plu:
    “Sur montes me asende,
Per trova flues de riet’
    Cual me alor’ ensende;
De l’ senes me produi
    La parfumes contempora—
Con sola un sentim
    On recompensa mea labora.”
His accents mild took up the tale:
    He said “I go my ways,
And when I find a mountain-rill,
    I set it in a blaze;
And thence they make a stuff they call
    Rowland’s Macassar Oil—
Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
    They give me for my toil.”
Ma ja me imajin’ un scem’
    Per nuri me con pasta,
A cada dia deveninte
    Sempre an plu vasta.
Me puxa el de lad’ a lad’;
    Sua fas deveni pal:
“Tu vive su cual gida,
    E cual tax’ tu fa real?”
But I was thinking of a way
    To feed oneself on batter,
And so go on from day to day
    Getting a little fatter.
I shook him well from side to side,
    Until his face was blue:
“Come, tell me how you live,” I cried,
    “And what it is you do!”

“Me xerca oios d’ eglefin
    A media de l’ caluna;
De los me fa botones
    Per jacetas, su la luna.
A pos me vende los,
    Ma no per oro o arjent’;
Me furni nove pos reseta
    Cupre de l’ client’.”
He said “I hunt for haddocks’ eyes
    Among the heather bright,
And work them into waistcoat-buttons
    In the silent night.
And these I do not sell for gold
    Or coin of silvery shine
But for a copper halfpenny,
    And that will purchase nine.”
“Me xerca rotas de vagon
    En erba, e catur’
La crabes con viscosa;
    Me escav’ per pan con bur.
En esta mod’” (el ginia an)
    “Me rici sin engana—
E me va bevi con desir’
    Ce tu va resta sana.”
“I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
    Or set limed twigs for crabs;
I sometimes search the grassy knolls
    For wheels of Hansom-cabs.
And that’s the way” (he gave a wink)
    “By which I get my wealth—
And very gladly will I drink
    Your Honour’s noble health.”
Me oia el, a esta ves,
    Pos imajin’ un scema
Per desosidi pontes grand’
    Par boli los en crema.
Me grasia el per clari com’
    El rici sin engana,
Ma xef per la desir’ de bev’
    Ce me va resta sana.
I heard him then, for I had just
    Completed my design
To keep the Menai bridge from rust
    By boiling it in wine.
I thanked him much for telling me
    The way he got his wealth,
But chiefly for his wish that he
    Might drink my noble health.
Aora, si mea ditos vag’
    En cola par acaso,
O si mea pede destra vad’
    Sinistra en sapato,
O si me cade un rocon
    A sur mea ped’ en fret’,
Me larma e record’ afin
La senesente ta pertin’—
Ci parla lent’, caracolin,
Capeles blanca com’ farin’,
Un fas de avia, tan corvin,
Con oios clar, plen de lumin’,
Ma cisa triste sur destin’,
An osilante plu o min,
E babelante tra narin’,
Com’ si el come jelatin,
Roncante como un asin’—
A ser’ distante, en jardin,
    Sentante sur porteta.
And now, if e’er by chance I put
    My fingers into glue
Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
    Into a left-hand shoe,
Or if I drop upon my toe
    A very heavy weight,
I weep, for it reminds me so,
Of that old man I used to know—
Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
Whose face was very like a crow,
With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,
Who seemed distracted with his woe,
Who rocked his body to and fro,
And muttered mumblingly and low,
As if his mouth were full of dough,
Who snorted like a buffalo—
That summer evening, long ago,
    A-sitting on a gate.

An cuando la Cavalero canta la parolas final de la balada, el prende la redines, e turna la testa de sua cavalo a la rua longo cual los ia veni. “Sola un pico de metres resta,” el dise, “en desende la colina e traversa acel rieta peti, e alora tu va es un Rea—Ma tu va pausa per oserva me partinte sur cavalo, si?” el ajunta, cuando Alisia turna con espresa zelosa en la dirije cual el indica. “Acel no va ocupa multe tempo. Tu va resta asi e brandi tua teleta cuando me ateni acel curva de la rua, si? Me crede ce lo va coraji me, tu vide.”

As the Knight sang the last words of the ballad, he gathered up the reins, and turned his horse’s head along the road by which they had come. “You’ve only a few yards to go,” he said, “down the hill and over that little brook, and then you’ll be a Queen—But you’ll stay and see me off first?” he added as Alice turned with an eager look in the direction to which he pointed. “I shan’t be long. You’ll wait and wave your handkerchief when I get to that turn in the road? I think it’ll encourage me, you see.”

“Natural, me va resta asi,” Alisia dise: “e multe grasias per la acompania tan longa—e per la canta—me ia gusta vera multe lo.”

“Of course I’ll wait,” said Alice: “and thank you very much for coming so far—and for the song—I liked it very much.”

“Me espera tal,” la Cavalero dise dutosa: “ma tu no ia plora tan multe como me ia previde.”

“I hope so,” the Knight said doubtfully: “but you didn’t cry so much as I thought you would.”

Donce los presa la manos, e alora la Cavalero vade lenta a via tra la foresta. “El no va parti longa sur cavalo, me espeta,” Alisia dise a se en cuando el sta regardante el. “Aora el cade! Direta sur sua testa como usual! An tal, el remonta sufisinte fasil—acel es la resulta de ave tan multe cosas pendente sirca la cavalo—” Donce el continua parla a se, regardante la cavalo osiosa paseante longo la rua, e la Cavalero cadente de sur, aora a la un lado e alora a la otra. Pos la cade cuatro o sinco, el ateni la curva, e alora Alisia brandi sua teleta a el, e pausa asta cuando el es ultra vista.

So they shook hands, and then the Knight rode slowly away into the forest. “It won’t take long to see him off, I expect,” Alice said to herself, as she stood watching him. “There he goes! Right on his head as usual! However, he gets on again pretty easily—that comes of having so many things hung round the horse—” So she went on talking to herself, as she watched the horse walking leisurely along the road, and the Knight tumbling off, first on one side and then on the other. After the fourth or fifth tumble he reached the turn, and then she waved her handkerchief to him, and waited till he was out of sight.

“Me espera ce lo ia coraji el,” el dise, turnante per core e desende la colina: “e aora la rieta final, e me va es un Rea! Lo sona tan grandiosa!” Con vera poca pasos, el ariva a la borda de la rieta. “Final, la Cuadro Oto!” el esclama en salta traversante,

“I hope it encouraged him,” she said, as she turned to run down the hill: “and now for the last brook, and to be a Queen! How grand it sounds!” A very few steps brought her to the edge of the brook. “The Eighth Square at last!” she cried as she bounded across,

*     *     *     *     *     *     *
  *     *     *     *     *     *
*     *     *     *     *     *     *

e lansa se a reposa sur un jardin tan mol como mos, con fondos peti de flores locada asi e ala tra lo. “O! me es tan felis de ariva asi! E cual es esta sur mea testa?” el esclama en un tono angusada, levante sua manos a un cosa multe pesosa cual senta abrasante sua testa intera.

and threw herself down to rest on a lawn as soft as moss, with little flower-beds dotted about it here and there. “Oh, how glad I am to get here! And what is this on my head?” she exclaimed in a tone of dismay, as she put her hands up to something very heavy, and fitted tight all round her head.

“Ma como on ia pote pone lo ala sin ce me sabe?” el dise a se, desaponente lo e posante lo sur sua jenos per descovre cual spesie de cosa lo pote es.

“But how can it have got there without my knowing it?” she said to herself, as she lifted it off, and set it on her lap to make out what it could possibly be.

Lo es un corona de oro.

It was a golden crown.

Esta paje es presentada con la lisensa CC Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International.
Lo ia es automatada jenerada de la paje corespondente en la Vici de Elefen a 19 setembre 2021 (08:26 UTC).