tp.wyrd sisters-第9部分

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about　much；　did　she？'
　'It　was　her　leg；　you　know；'　said　Magrat。
　'But　she　taught　you　all　the　midwifery　and　everything？'
　'Oh；　yes；　that；'　said　Magrat。　'I　done　lots。'
　'But…'　Granny　hesitated；　groping　her　way　across　unfamiliar　territory　…　'she　never　talked　about　what　you　might　call　the　previous。'
　'Sorry？'
　'You　know；'　said　Granny；　with　an　edge　of　desperation　in　her　voice。　'Men　and　such。'
　Magrat　looked　as　if　she　was　about　to　panic。　'What　about　them？'
　Granny　Weatherwax　had　done　many　unusual　things　in　her　time；　and　it　took　a　lot　to　make　her　refuse　a　challenge。　But　this　time　she　gave　in。
　'I　think；'　she　said　helplessly；　'that　it　might　be　a　good　idea　if　you　have　a　quiet　word　with　Nanny　Ogg　one　of　these　days。　Fairly　soon。'
　There　was　a　cackle　of　laughter　from　the　window　behind　them；　a　chink　of　glasses；　and　a　thin　voice　raised　in　song：　…with　a　giraffe；　If　you　stand　on　a　stool。　But　the　hedgehog…'　Granny　stopped　listening。　'Only　not　just　now；'　she　added。
　
　The　troupe　got　under　way　a　few　hours　before　sunset；　their　four　carts　lurching　off　down　the　road　that　led　towards　the　Sto　plains　and　the　big　cities。　Lancre　had　a　town　rule　that　all　mummers；　mountebanks　and　other　potential　criminals　were　outside　the　gates　by　sundown；　it　didn't　offend　anyone　really　because　the　town　had　no　walls　to　speak　of；　and　no…one　much　minded　if　people　nipped　back　in　again　after　dark。　It　was　the　look　of　the　thing　that　counted。
　The　witches　watched　from　Magrat's　cottage；　using　Nanny　Ogg's　ancient　green　crystal　ball。
　'It's　about　time　you　learned　how　to　get　sound　on　this　thing；'　Granny　muttered。　She　gave　it　a　nudge；　filling　the　image　with　ripples。
　'It　was　very　strange；'　said　Magrat。　'In　those　carts。　The　things　they　had！　Paper　trees；　and　all　kinds　of　costumes；　and…'　she　waved　her　hands　…　'there　was　this　great　big　picture　of　forn　parts；　with　all　temples　and　things　all　rolled　up。　It　was　beautiful。'
　Granny　grunted。
　'I　thought　it　was　amazing　the　way　all　those　people　became　kings　and　things；　didn't　you？　It　was　like　magic。'
　'Magrat　Garlick；　what　are　you　saying？　It　was　just　paint　and　paper。　Anyone　could　see　that。'
　Magrat　opened　her　mouth　to　speak；　ran　the　ensuing　argument　through　her　head；　and　shut　it　again。
　'Where's　Nanny？'　she　said。
　'She's　lying　out　on　the　lawn；'　said　Granny。　'She　felt　a　bit　poorly。'　And　from　outside　came　the　sound　of　Nanny　Ogg　being　poorly　at　the　top　of　her　voice。
　Magrat　sighed。
　'You　know；'　she　said；　'if　we　are　his　godmothers；　we　ought　to　have　given　him　three　gifts。　It's　traditional。'
　'What　are　you　talking　about；　girl？'
　'Three　good　witches　are　supposed　to　give　the　baby　three　gifts。　You　know；　like　good　looks；　wisdom　and　happiness。'　Magrat　pressed　on　defiantly。　'That's　how　it　used　to　be　done　in　the　old　days。'
　'Oh；　you　mean　gingerbread　cottages　and　all　that；'　said　Granny　dismissively。　'Spinning　wheels　and　pumpkins　and　pricking　your　finger　on　rose　thorns　and　similar。　I　could　never　be　having　with　all　that。'
　She　polished　the　ball　reflectively。
　'Yes；　but…'　Magrat　said。　Granny　glanced　up　at　her。　That　was　Magrat　for　you。　Head　full　of　pumpkins。　Everyone's　fairy　godmother；　for　two　pins。　But　a　good　soul；　underneath　it　all。　Kind　to　small　furry　animals。　The　sort　of　person　who　worried　about　baby　birds　falling　out　of　nests。
　'Look；　if　it　makes　you　any　happier；'　she　muttered；　surprised　at　herself。　She　waved　her　hands　vaguely　over　the　image　of　the　departing　carts。　'What's　it　to　be　…　wealth；　beauty？'
　'Well；　money　isn't　everything；　and　if　he　takes　after　his　father　he'll　be　handsome　enough；'　Magrat　said；　suddenly　serious。　'Wisdom；　do　you　think？'
　'That's　something　he'll　have　to　learn　for　himself；'　said　Granny。
　'Perfect　eyesight？　A　good　singing　voice？'　From　the　lawn　outside　came　Nanny　Ogg's　cracked　but　enthusiastic　voice　telling　the　night　sky　that　A　Wizard's　Staff　Has　A　Knob　On　The　End。
　'Not　important；'　said　Granny　loudly。　'You've　got　to　think　headology；　see？　Not　muck　about　with　all　this　beauty　and。　wealth　business。　That's　not　important。'
　She　turned　back　to　the　ball　and　gestured　half…heartedly。　'You'd　better　go　and　get　Nanny；　then；　seeing　as　there　should　be　three　of　us。'
　Nanny　was　helped　in；　eventually；　and　had　to　have　things　explained　to　her。
　'Three　gifts；　eh？'　she　said。　'Haven't　done　one　of　them　things　since　I　was　a　gel；　it　takes　me　back　…　what're　you　doing？'
　Magrat　was　bustling　around　the　room；　lighting　candles。
　'Oh；　we've　got　to　create　the　right　magical　ambience；'　she　explained。　Granny　shrugged；　but　said　nothing；　even　in　the　face　of　the　extreme　provocation。　All　witches　did　their　magic　in　their　own　way；　and　this　was　Magrat's　house。
　'What're　we　going　to　give　him；　then？'　said　Nanny。
　'We　was　just　discussing　it；'　said　Granny。
　'I　know　what　he'll　want；'　said　Nanny。　She　made　a　suggestion；　which　was　received　in　frozen　silence。
　'I　don't　see　what　use　that　would　be；'　said　Magrat；　eventually。　'Wouldn't　it　be　rather　unfortable？'
　'He'll　thank　us　when　he　grows　up；　you　mark　my　words；'　said　Nanny。　'My　first　husband；　he　always　said…'
　'Something　a　bit　less　physical　is　generally　the　style　of　things；'　interrupted　Granny；　glaring　at　Nanny　Ogg。　'There's　no　need　to　go　and　spoil　everything；　Gytha。　Why　do　you　always　have　to…'
　'Well；　at　least　I　can　say　that　I…'　Nanny　began。
　Both　voices　faded　to　a　mutter。　There　was　a　long　edgy　silence。
　'I　think；'　said　Magrat；　with　brittle　brightness；　'that　perhaps　it　would　be　a　good　idea　if　we　all　go　back　to　our　little　cottages　and　do　it　in　our　own　way。　You　know。　Separately。　It's　been　a　long　day　and　we're　all　rather　tired。'
　'Good　idea；'　said　Granny　firmly；　and　stood　up。　'e；　Nanny　Ogg；'　she　snapped。　'It's　been　a　long　day　and　we're　all　rather　tired。'
　Magrat　heard　them　bickering　as　they　wandered　down　the　path。
　She　sat　rather　sadly　amidst　the　coloured　candles；　holding　a　small　bottle　of　extremely　thaumaturgical　incense　that　she　had　ordered　from　a　magical　supplies　emporium　in　faraway　Ankh…Morpork。　She　had　been　rather　looking　forward　to　trying　it。　Sometimes；　she　thought；　it　would　be　nice　if　people　could　be　a　bit　kinder　。　。　。
　She　stared　at　the　ball。
　Well；　she　could　make　a　start。
　'He　will　make　friends　easily；'　she　whispered。　It　wasn't　much；　she　knew；　but　it　was　something　she'd　never　been　able　to　get　the　hang　of。
　Nanny　Ogg；　sitting　alone　in　her　kitchen　with　her　huge　tomcat　curled　up　on　her　lap；　poured　herself　a　nightcap　and　through　the　haze　tried　to　remember　the　words　of　verse　seventeen　of　the　Hedgehog　song。　There　was　something　about　goats；　she　recalled；　but　the　details　eluded　her。　Time　abraded　memory。
　She　toasted　the　invisible　presence。
　'A　bloody　good　memory　is　what　he　ought　to　have；'　she　said。
　'He'll　always　remember　the　words。'
　And　Granny　Weatherwax；　striding　home　alone　through　the　midnight　forest；　wrapped　her　shawl　around　her　and　considered。　It　had　been　a　long　day；　and　a　trying　one。　The　theatre　had　been　the　worst　part。　All　people　pretending　to　be　other　people；　things　happening　that　weren't　real；　bits　of　countryside　you　could　put　your　foot　through　。　。　。　Granny　liked　to　know　where　she　stood；　and　she　wasn't　certain　she　stood　for　that　sort　of　thing。　The　world　seemed　to　be　changing　all　the　time。
　It　didn't　use　to　change　so　much。　It　was　bewildering。
　She　walked　quickly　through　the　darkness　with　the　frank　stride　of　someone　who　was　at　least　certain　that　the　forest；　on　this　damp　and　windy　night；　contained　strange　and　terrible　things　and　she　was　it。
　'Let　him　be　whoever　he　minks　he　is；'　she　said。　'That's　all　anybody　could　hope　for　in　this　world。'
　Like　most　people；　witches　are　unfocused　in　time。　The　difference　is　that　they　dimly　realise　it；　and　make　use　of　it。　They　cherish　the　past　because　part　of　them　is　still　living　there；　and　they　can　see　the　shadows　the　future　casts　before　it。
　Granny　could　feel　the　shape　of　the　future；　and　it　had　knives　in　it。
　
　It　began　at　five　the　next　morning。　Four　men　rode　through　the　woods　near　Granny's　cottage；　tethered　the　horses　out　of　earshot；　and　crept　very　cautiously　through　the　mists。
　The　sergeant　in　charge　was　not　happy　in　his　work。　He　was　a　Ramtops　man；　and　wasn't　at　all　certain　about　how　you　went　about　arresting　a　witch。　He　was　pretty　certain；　though；　that　the　witch　wouldn't　like　t