Tyrion Lannister had been looked down on all his life, but seldom by rheumy-eyed six-year-olds who needed to stuff fat cushions under their cheeks to lift them to the height of a man.  提利昂这辈子经常被人轻贱，然而被眼睛湿黏黏，得坐在厚厚的垫子上才有正常人高度的六岁小鬼如此看待，还是头一遭。

　　Is he the bad man? the boy had asked, clutching his doll. 他就是那个坏人吗？小鬼抱着玩偶问。

　　He is, the Lady Lysa had said from the lesser throne beside him. She was all in blue, powdered and perfumed for the suitors who filled her court. 就是他。莱莎夫人坐在他旁边一张较小的王座上，一袭蓝衣，为了满足追求者，特别扑了粉又喷了香水。

　　He's so small, the Lord of the Eyrie said, giggling. 他好小一点点呀。鹰巢城公爵咯咯笑着说。

　　This is Tyrion the Imp, of House Lannister, who murdered your father.  这是兰尼斯特家的小恶魔提利昂，谋害你父亲的就是他。

　　She raised her voice so it carried down the length of High Hall of the Eyrie, ringing off the milk-white walls and the slender pillars, so every man could hear it. He slew the Hand of the King! 她提高音量，所讲的话传遍整个鹰巢城大厅，在乳白色墙壁和纤细的柱子间回荡，让每个人都听得到。他害死了国王的首相！

　　Oh, did I kill him too? Tyrion had said, like a fool. 哦，原来他也是我杀的？提利昂像个蠢蛋似地反问。

　　That would have been a very good time to have kept his mouth closed and his head bowed.  那个时候，他本应当低下头颅，乖乖闭紧嘴巴。

　　He could see that now; seven hells, he had seen it then.  他早该想到的，七层地狱，其实他当时又何尝不知。

　　The High Hall of the Arryns was long and austere, with a forbidding coldness to its walls of blue-veined white marble, but the faces around him had been colder by far.  艾林家的议事厅堂硕长而俭朴，蓝纹的白色大理石墙，有股令人难以亲近的寒意，然而周遭众人的脸色，才真叫人心寒。

　　The power of Casterly Rock was far away, and there were no friends of the Lannisters in the Vale of Arryn. Submission and silence would have been his best defenses. 此处凯岩城势力鞭长莫及，艾林谷中也少有亲兰尼斯特人士。总的说来，态度屈从，保持沉默，实是他最佳防御。