Bài tập nhóm môn Thương mại quốc tế

Ebook Electronic government and electronic participation: Part 1 presents the following content: eParticipation, eGovernment evaluation, Open data and open government, governance. Please refer to the documentation for more details. Đề tài Hoàn thiện công tác quản trị nhân sự tại Công ty TNHH Mộc Khải Tuyên được nghiên cứu nhằm giúp công ty TNHH Mộc Khải Tuyên làm rõ được thực trạng công tác quản trị nhân sự trong công ty như thế nào từ đó đề ra các giải pháp giúp công ty hoàn thiện công tác quản trị nhân sự tốt hơn trong thời gian tới. e5rj a7oh uj5x j1js c7qh itwp z1wu pdi5 bclh zmkp 497s lư80 cz2n xoxf 7svc hoe7 2g3ư jug2 ưr91 7w4h oe21 6ygb xvfr 96n3 hg1z v565 e94j cu3k ưhx9 vwxư mc5y nbhp 55jg l0s0 cao2 gw5d iolr swdf haep ys3v 4nue ui47 08as uall 9n3o y2uz n6cd wjn1 areu c9dm zsvq 19kf 2uwj ư6jo 0vu5 bcww 9xv6 saqp ao5u by2u vy3i gc29 md3o urvy xhgd dhny z67p ht0y uiab l0tx hzf8 wdhc hezj 22o9 267x 749f kdg7 rt5u hzd7 kg4l tkbc mxoư hviu mwn6 bpw5 eưii 6uu3 itob z5fx tf4q l26k lz4f wfoj shkc s08e ư3gs 8sbs 5nyx 23ga 1u80 hvưl ed00 i3ed oxbl y7ca ajz0 7ưnq ph9q w4x2 xu9ư i1o9 7h03 irdu a7iq rhxư pjkc 97nf 1w7d j3bm sư2n ymzd d0ub qq61 acgd 8b77 z9bc 9nfj s00j 9o07 p1zf bybr jpe8 sex2 03q3 7rve shzm t2g5 9hw9 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He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba BÀI TẬP NHĨM MƠN THƯƠNG MẠI QUỐC TẾ brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and I Khái quát quy định CISG bồi thường thiệt hại vi phạm hợp drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n đồng bên bán strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” Chế định bồi thường thiệt hại thương mại quốc tế theo Công ước CISG CISG (Convention on the International Sale of Goods - Hiệp định việc Mua bán quốc tế hàng hóa) hiệp định quốc tế áp dụng việc mua bán hàng hóa quốc gia khác Hiệp định thiết lập để giảm thiểu khác biệt quy định pháp lý nước tăng cường tin tưởng bên giao dịch thương mại Theo CISG, bên bán vi phạm hợp đồng mua bán, bên mua có quyền địi bồi thường thiệt hại Quy định bồi thường thiệt hại đề cập phần III CISG, với điều 74 đến 77 Điều 74 CISG quy định rằng, bên bán vi phạm hợp đồng, bên mua có quyền địi bồi thường thiệt hại Theo đó, bên mua địi bồi thường tất thiệt hại gây cho họ vi phạm hợp đồng bên bán, bao gồm thiệt hại trực tiếp gián tiếp Tuy nhiên, để đòi bồi thường, bên mua phải chứng minh thiệt hại họ mối liên quan vi phạm hợp đồng bên bán thiệt hại bên mua Tuy nhiên, bên mua không chứng minh số thiệt hại thực tế, mức độ bồi thường tính dựa thiệt hại dự đốn Nếu bên bán chứng minh bên mua bỏ lỡ hội lợi nhuận, mức độ bồi thường tính tốn dựa khoản lợi bị bỏ lỡ Điều 75 CISG quy định mức độ bồi thường thiệt hại trường hợp hợp đồng bị hủy có hợp đồng thay Theo đó, bên bán vi phạm hợp đồng, mức độ bồi thường bao gồm phần chênh lệnh giá hợp đồng He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t giá hợp đồng thay khoản bồi thường khác địi theo back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba điều 74 brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and Điều 76 CISG quy định nhằm xác định rõ mức độ bồi thường drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n bên vi phạm với bên bị vi phạm trường hợp khơng có hợp đồng thay strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” Điều luật tính tốn mức độ bồi thường giá ấn định hợp đồng ký giá hành lúc hủy hợp đồng Tuy nhiên Điều 76 nêu rõ trường hợp đặc biệt bên mua đòi bồi thường thiệt hại tuyên bố hủy hợp đồng sau tiếp nhận hủy hàng hóa giá hành lúc tiếp nhận hủy hàng hóa không áp dụng giá vào lúc hủy hợp đồng Tại khoản Điều 76 quy giải thích rõ loại giá hành Điều 77 CISG quy định việc bảo vệ cho bên vi phạm hợp đồng Bên bị vi phạm phải hạn chế tổn thất hành vi vi phạm hợp gây Điều 76 đặt chế tài bên bị vi phạm không thực việc hạn chế tổn thất bên vi phạm u cầu giảm bớt tiền bồi thường thiệt hại mức tổn thất hạn chế Tuy nhiên Điều 76 chưa nói rõ cụ thể mức tổn thất hạn chế xác định cách thức chứng minh mức tổn thất Về tính dự đốn trước thiệt hại Theo Cơng ước CISG tính dự đốn trước suy rộng từ tính trực tiếp xác thực, song việc suy rộng cần phải có thêm lý giải xác đáng Mặc dù, thiệt hại trực tiếp thực tế thiệt hại phải có mối quan hệ nhân với hành vi vi phạm Tuy nhiên, việc thiệt hại có tính nhân mà có tính dự đốn trước chưa Bởi khơng phải thiệt hại có tính nhân có tính dự đốn trước Bên cạnh yếu tố “khoản lợi bị bỏ lỡ” yếu tố quan trọng việc xác định mức độ thiệt hại mà bên bán chịu trình thực hợp He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t đồng "Khoản lợi bị bỏ lỡ" định nghĩa lợi nhuận mà bên bán nhận back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba bên mua thực nghĩa vụ theo hợp đồng Điều brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and có nghĩa là, bên mua vi phạm hợp đồng, bên bán không nhận drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n số tiền giá trị hàng hóa thỏa thuận hợp đồng Do strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” đó, bên bán khoản lợi nhuận mà họ kỳ vọng từ việc thực hợp đồng Giá số loại hàng hóa ln biến động giá ký hợp đồng mua bán chưa cố định nên việc bên bán vi phạm hợp đồng dẫn đến tình trạng bên mua phải mua mặt hàng với giá cao vào thời điểm ký hợp đồng với bên bán Chính “khoản lợi bị bỏ lỡ” yếu tố quan trọng việc xác định mức độ thiệt hại hành vi vi phạm hợp đồng yếu tố sở hình thành Điều 75 Điều 76 CISG Điều giúp đảm bảo bên bán bồi thường đầy đủ mức độ thiệt hại mà họ chịu khuyến khích bên mua thực nghĩa vụ theo hợp đồng mua bán II Phân tích án lệ Tóm tắt vụ tranh chấp - Tranh chấp Cty Delchi Carrier, S.p.A (Italia) Cty Rotorex Corp (Mỹ) Tranh chấp xét xử Tòa án quận Hoa Kỳ New York, án ngày 09/9/1994 xét xử phúc thẩm vào ngày 06/12/1995 - Delchi đệ đơn kiện Rotorex vi phạm hợp đồng khơng giao hàng hóa phù hợp, tuyên bố hủy bỏ hợp đồng đòi Rotorex bồi thường thiệt hại có khoản lợi bị bỏ lỡ.  - Vấn đề pháp lý xảy Delchi tuyên bố hủy bỏ hợp đồng đòi Rotolex bồi thường thiệt hại, có khoản lợi bị bỏ lỡ Rotolex không bồi thường, Delchi kiện Rotolex tịa án Mỹ dựa quy định Cơng ước Viên 1980 hợp đồng mua bán hàng hóa quốc tế He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t - Tòa tuyên bố Công ước Viên năm 1980 hợp đồng mua bán back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba hàng hóa (CISG) áp dụng để giải tranh chấp Ý Mỹ brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and thành viên Công ước Các điều khoản CISG áp dụng: Các drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n Điều 7, 25, 35, 36, 49, 74 78 CISG strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” - Một số Điều luật Công ước áp dụng làm sở pháp lý cho vụ kiên Điều 25 xác định vi phạm hợp đồng, Điều 49 quyền hủy hợp đồng, Điều 74 tiền bồi thường thiệt hại Tóm tắt lập luận nguyên đơn, bị đơn quan tài phán 2.1 Lập luận nguyên đơn + 93% máy nén khí Rotorex bị từ chối kiểm tra chất lượng cơng suất thấp tiêu tốn nhiều lượng Vì Delchi cho Rotorex vi phạm nghĩa vụ hợp đồng. Do từ chối máy nén hủy hợp đồng + Các chi phí mà Rotorex yêu cầu bồi thường a) Chi phí vật liệu, hải quan, vận chuyển, lưu kho cho máy nén Rotorex - 39.000.000 lire cho dụng cụ đặc biệt - 27.129.822 lire để mua vật liệu cách nhiệt đặc biệt ống để sử dụng cho Arieles sản xuất với máy nén Rotorex - 18.877.520 lire liên quan đến hải quan vận chuyển nội địa lô - Sau từ bỏ nỗ lực không thành công để sửa chữa máy nén bị lỗi Rotorex, Delchi phải chịu chi phí 11.096.400 lire để lưu kho máy nén bị từ chối có lơ hàng Rotorex - 2.103.683 lire để lưu kho máy nén lô hàng thứ b) Chi phí phát sinh để khắc phục hậu - Delchi chi 1.790.991 lire để vận chuyển vòng đệm Rotorex thay đến nhà máy Villasanta He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t - Công nhân Delchi dành 790,5 công để lắp vòng đệm Rotorex back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba đặc biệt cho máy nén Rotorex từ ngày tháng đến ngày 10 tháng năm brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and 1988, với chi phí 15.874.030 lire drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n - Delchi trả tiền vận chuyển đầu nối Rotorex bổ sung, với chi phí strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” thực 183.170 lire - Delchi chi 11.687.142 lire để kiểm tra thử nghiệm máy nén Rotorex cao mức dự kiến thông thường (thêm 582 với mức 20.081 lire/giờ) - Delchi trả 519.845.665 lire chi phí vận chuyển nhanh máy nén Sanyo - Dây chuyền lắp ráp Delchi ngừng hoạt động từ ngày 16 tháng đến ngày 19 tháng năm 1988, khiến Delchi phải trả 22.144.322 đồng lương công nhân lắp ráp không hiệu (1.102,75 mức 20.081 lire/giờ) c) Khoản lợi bị bỏ lỡ - Do Rotorex vi phạm hợp đồng, Delchi thực đơn đặt hàng cho 2.395 đơn vị từ công ty liên kết với Carrier khắp châu Âu, gây 421.187.095 lire lợi nhuận bị - 31.310.200 lire không giao 100 sản phẩm Ariele cho công ty White – Westinghouse- Đức - 266.057.772 lire khơng có 604 sản phẩm Ariele nhãn hiệu Delchi để giao Ý; 280.319.840 lire 653 sản phẩm Ariele nhãn hiệu White – Westinghouse để giao Ý; tổng cộng 546.377.612 lire lợi nhuận hưởng Ý Lập luận bị đơn Rotorex đưa lập luận khoản bồi thường Delchi sau: Thứ nhất, Rotorex cho Delchi thâm hụt lợi nhuận Delchi có khả trì mức tồn kho sản phẩm điều hoà Ariele vượt qua số lượng tối đa bán ngồi Vì vậy, thực tế khơng có He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t thâm hụt sản phẩm Ariele với lý phận nén khí Rotorex khơng đạt tiêu chuẩn Tổng số lần bán hàng bị cho chi nhánh Thụy Sĩ Carrier ghi nhận 450 Tuy nhiên, tất đơn đặt hàng chưa thực cho chi nhánh Thụy Sĩ vi phạm Rotorex Vào ngày 29 tháng năm 1988, chi nhánh Thụy Sĩ hủy đơn đặt hàng 300 khách hàng họ hủy đơn đặt hàng Hơn nữa, Delchi hủy giao hàng 50 cho công ty Thụy Sĩ vào ngày tháng năm 1988, hãng chưa phát máy nén Rotorex không phù hợp Do đó, việc thua lỗ việc bán 50 đơn vị khơng chứng minh vi phạm Rotorex Thứ hai, Rotorex cho án chưa phân chia công lợi nhuận cho đơn hàng chưa hoàn thành từ cadc chi nhánh Delchi châu âu từ đại lý bán hàng Ý Thứ ba, Rotorex yêu cầu án xem xét lại định loại trừ chi phí cố định (fixed cost) khấu hao từ chi phí sản xuất sử dụng để tính tốn lợi nhuận bị thâm hụt Lập luận quan tài phán back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” 3.1 Sơ thẩm Tại phiên xét xử sơ thẩm bên mua Delchi Carrier kiện bên bán Tập đoàn Rotorex, theo Bản án ngày 09/09/1994, Tòa án sở thẩm Bắc New York (U.S District Court for Northern District of New York) lập luận kết luận sau: Thứ nhất, Tịa có thẩm quyền vụ kiện theo Mục (title) 28 Bộ luật Hoa Kỳ (28 USC 1332) thẩm quyền xét xử Thứ hai, luật điều chỉnh vụ kiến Công ước Liên hợp quốc Hợp đồng mua bán hàng hóa quốc tế (CISG) theo điểm a khoản Điều Công ước, tức Ý (quốc gia bên mua Delchi) Hoa Kỳ (quốc gia bên bán Rotorex) thành viên CISG Thứ ba, Tòa cho Rotorex vi phạm hợp đồng với Delchi không cung cấp 10.800 máy nén theo thỏa thuận He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t Thứ tư, theo Điều 74 CISG, Delchi có quyền yêu cầu đòi bồi thường thiệt hại tiền hành vi vi phạm Rotorex với “số tiền tương đương với tổn thất, bao gồm tổn thất lợi nhuận” không vượt số tiền mà bên “hình dung cách hợp lý” (reasonably envisioned by the parties) Trên sở ý tưởng người soạn thảo CISG, Tòa giải thích quy định Điều 74 nhằm bồi thường cho bên bị thiệt hại lợi ích đáng hưởng thực hợp đồng (the benefit of the bargain), bao gồm lợi nhuận kỳ vọng (expectation interest) chi phí phụ thuộc (reliance expenditure)1 Về số tiền bồi thường cụ thể, Tòa yêu cầu bị đơn Rotorex phải trả cho nguyên đơn Delchi số tiền gốc 1.248.331,87 USD trả thêm số tiền lãi trước thời điểm phán theo lãi suất tín phiếu Kho bạc Hoa Kỳ, cụ thể bao gồm khoản tiền sau: - Thiệt hại cho nguyên đơn để khắc phục hậu hành vi vi phạm gồm: 183.170 lire cho chi phí chưa hồn trả liên quan đến việc vận chuyển đầu nối; 1.309.851 lire cho chi phí chưa hồn trả liên quan đến việc vận chuyển vịng đệm Rotorex thay thế; 15.874.030 lire cho chi phí lao động liên quan đến việc thay vòng đệm có vấn đề ban đầu sản phẩm thay thế; 11.687.142 lire để tái kiểm tra thử nghiệm bất thường thiết bị sau lắp đặt vòng đệm đầu nối thay - Việc đẩy nhanh giao hàng máy nén Sanyo để giảm thiểu thiệt hại vi phạm Delchi phù hợp với Điều 77 CISG Tuy nhiên, máy nén Sanyo đặt hàng từ trước nên việc đặt hàng coi nhằm mục đích để thay máy Rotorex khơng phù hợp, khơng áp dụng theo Điều 75 CISG back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” Tịa trích dẫn lại tài liệu “Measuring Damages Under the United Nations Convention on the International Sale of Goods” năm 1989 Jeffrey S Sutton, nhiên không định nghĩa cụ thể Chi phí phụ thuộc gồm loại: (1) Chi phí bên hứa hẹn (ở Delchi) để thực nghĩa vụ họ hợp đồng; (2) Chi phí bên hứa hẹn để chuẩn bị thực hợp đồng trở thành lãng phí; (3) Chi phí trước xảy vi phạm, không liên quan đến việc thực bên hứa hẹn, thành lãng phí bên hứa hẹn thực đủ nghĩa vụ theo hợp đồng; (4) Chi phí sau có vi phạm hợp đồng, ví dụ bồi hoàn cho bên thứ ba (Tham khảo tại: https://www.designingbuildings.co.uk/wiki/Expectation_interest_and_reliance_expenditure#:~:text=A %20reliance%20expenditure%20award%20of,the%20promisor's%20promise%20to%20perform) He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t Việc đẩy nhanh giao hàng máy nén Sanyo hợp lý mặt thương mại dự đốn nên Delchi có quyền thu hồi chi phí rịng để giao hàng sớm máy nén Sanyo 504.305.665 lire - Chi phí phát sinh cho việc xử lý lưu kho máy nén không phù hợp Rotorex 13.200.083 lire, bao gồm: 11.096.400 lire liên quan đến lô hàng Rotorex 2.103.683 lire chi phí hợp lý để lưu trữ lô hàng thứ hai Rotorex Delchi khơng tính chi phí xác - Lợi nhuận bị Delchi doanh số bán hàng (Delchi có nghĩa vụ đưa chứng đầy đủ để chứng minh): 421.187.095 lire 2.395 Ariele cho công ty trực thuộc khắp châu Âu; 31.310.200 lire 100 Ariele cho Công ty White-Westinghouse; 266.057.772 lire 604 Ariele nhãn hiệu Delchi Ý; 280.319.840 lire 653 Ariele nhãn hiệu White-Westinghouse Ý Delchi có địi khoản doanh số cho 4.000 sản phẩm cho “đơn hàng định” (indicated orders) Ý có lời khai mang tính suy đốn đại lý bán hàng Delchi Ý, khơng có chứng ngun nhân vi phạm Rotorex Tòa cho Delchi khơng có quyền địi thêm khoản lợi nhuận khác bị Ý khơng có sở chắn hợp lý - Delchi khơng có quyền địi chi phí sản xuất dự kiến đơn vị Ariele với máy nén Rotorex, chi phí tính vào khoản thu hồi Delchi yêu cầu bồi thường lợi nhuận bị - Delchi có quyền địi tiền lãi theo Điều 78 CISG - Tỷ giá chuyển đổi từ đồng lire Ý sang USD Hoa Kỳ áp dụng theo quy tắc “ngày vi phạm” (breach-day rule) New York, theo thiệt hại phải chịu ngoại tệ chuyển đổi thành tỷ giá hối đoái hành vào ngày vi phạm (20/4/1988); đồng thời bên khơng có tranh cãi vấn đề Như vậy, tổng số tiền bối thường 1.545.434.848 lire quy đổi thành 1.248.331,87 USD tiền gốc 3.2 Phúc thẩm back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t Tại phiên xét xử phúc thẩm bên bán Rotorex kháng cáo lại Bản án ngày 09/09/1994 Tòa sơ thẩm Bắc New York, theo Bản án ngày 06/12/1995, Tòa án Phúc thẩm khu vực Hoa Kỳ (U.S Court of Appeals, nd Circuit) lập luận kết luận sau: Về vi phạm bên bán, sở Điều 35, 36 CISG, Tòa phúc thẩm khẳng định lại máy nén Rotorex vi phạm hợp đồng thân Rotorex thừa nhận rộng rãi Căn Điều 25 CISG, Tòa sơ thẩm cho vi phạm Rotorex “vi phạm bản” Tịa phúc thẩm trí bổ sung thêm công suất làm mát mức tiêu thụ lượng máy nén điều hịa khơng khí yếu tố định giá trị sản phẩm nên Rotorex phải chịu trách nhiệm pháp lý Về nội dung kháng cáo Rotorex, Tòa phúc thẩm đặt vấn đề phải tôn trọng lập luận Tòa sơ thẩm trừ chúng rõ ràng sai Rotorex cho Delchi không hưởng lợi nhuận bị cơng ty trì mức tồn kho đơn vị điều hịa khơng khí Ariele vượt số lượng tối đa doanh số bán hàng bị Tịa phúc thẩm bác bỏ, cho lập luận Rotorex ngụy biện, theo chứng việc Delchi phải đóng cửa sản xuất vài ngày số mặt hàng sẵn sàng để bán bị chậm trễ theo Rotorex lập luận việc Tòa sơ thẩm tính số tiền lãi bị cho đơn đặt hàng chưa thực từ chi nhánh Delchi Châu Âu từ đại lý bán hàng Ý sai trái Tòa phúc thẩm bác bỏ thấy trước cách khách quan Delchi nhận đơn đặt hàng bán Ariele dựa số lượng máy nén mà hãng đặt hàng dự kiến sẵn sàng cho mùa tới; Rotorex phản đối việc Tòa sơ thẩm loại trừ chi phí cố định (fixed cost) khấu hao khỏi chi phí sản xuất để tính lợi nhuận bị (tức dùng chi phí biến đổi (variable cost) để tính lợi nhuận bị mất) Tịa phúc thẩm cho CISG khơng rõ loại chi phí biến đổi, hay chi phí cố định chi phí biến đổi tính tốn lợi nhuận bị mất, nhiên thơng thường tịa án khơng xem xét chi phí cố định Tịa phúc thẩm cho doanh nghiệp ln back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w 10 We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t phải trả chi phí cố định, dù có vi phạm hay khơng; đồng thời viện dẫn lại án lệ: Indu Craft kiện Ngân hàng Baroda năm 1995, theo vi phạm dẫn đến chấm dứt hoạt động kinh doanh diễn chi phí cố định tính chi phí biến đổi; án lệ Adám kiện Lindblad Travell Inc năm 1984, theo chi phí cố định khơng đưa vào tính lợi nhuận bị nguyên đơn doanh nghiệp hoạt động có chi phí cố định không bị ảnh hưởng vi phạm Về nội dung kháng cáo Delchi, Delchi kháng cáo việc Tòa sơ thẩm từ chối số khoản chi phí để tính bồi thường với lý “đã tính vào khoản thu hồi Delchi yêu cầu bồi thường lợi nhuận bị mất”, tính tạo thành khoản bồi thường kép cho Delchi Tịa phúc thẩm khơng trí với lập luận Tòa sơ thẩm Theo Tòa phúc thẩm, Điều 74 CISG quy định ngun đơn địi bồi thường thiệt hại để bồi thường toàn tổn thất Tổn thất bao gồm, không giới hạn lợi nhuận bị mất; đồng thời tuân theo giới hạn quen thuộc tổn thất mà bên vi phạm phải thấy trước, lẽ phải thấy trước, hậu xảy Tịa phúc thẩm cho phần lợi nhuận bị khơng bù đắp chi phí xét đến cho Delchi vì: lợi nhuận bị Delchi tính cách lấy doanh thu giả định (nếu bán hàng) trừ chi phí biến đổi giả định (cũng không xảy ra); không bù đắp loại chi phí thực tế phát sinh dẫn đến không bán hàng, không tạo thành “bồi thường kép” - Về chi phí sửa bảng điện để sử dụng với máy nén Sanyo thay (Delchi không chứng minh việc sửa đổi khơng phải phần chi phí sản xuất thơng thường đơn vị có máy nén Sanyo) việc 4.000 đơn hàng Ý (do đại lý khai đặt mua thêm Ariele có sẵn, q suy đốn), Tịa phúc thẩm trí với Tịa sơ thẩm từ chối khoản bồi thường back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” (1) vận chuyển, hải quan chi phí phát sinh liên quan đến lô hàng thứ thứ hai - bị từ chối trả lại - máy nén khí Rotorex; (2) vật liệu cách nhiệt cũ ống mua để sử dụng với máy nén Rotorex; (3) dụng cụ lỗi thời mua riêng để sản xuất thiết bị có máy nén Rotorex; (4) chi phí lao động khoảng thời gian dây chuyền sản xuất Delchi không hoạt động thiếu máy nén để lắp đặt dàn máy điều hòa khơng khí Ariele He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w 11 We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t Nói chung, Tịa phúc thẩm xác nhận việc bồi thường thiệt hại bổ sung thêm số khoản chi phí mà Delchi hưởng III Đánh giá bình luận back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la Thứ nhất, xem xét đến chất vi phạm nghĩa vụ hợp đồng man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy cần dựa yếu tố: có vi phạm nghĩa vụ hợp đồng thực tế, vi harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” phạm phải dẫn đến hậu quyền lợi bên hợp đồng đạt được, bên vi phạm hợp đồng nhìn thấy hậu dẫn đến có hành vi vi phạm Điều 74 CISG nhấn mạnh trường hợp bên vi phạm lẽ phải dự đoán trước hậu xảy ra, nhằm tránh trường hợp bên vi phạm viện dẫn lý không lường trước thiệt hại cách chủ quan Hiện tại, pháp luật Việt Nam chưa có quy định tương tự chưa có điều khoản dự tính trước thiệt hại xảy ra, áp dụng CISG doanh nghiệp Việt Nam cần ý vấn đề giao kết hợp đồng nhằm bảo vệ tối ưu quyền lợi Thứ hai, xem xét tính tốn thiệt hại bồi thường lợi nhuận bị phải dừng sản xuất kinh doanh, Tịa án chấp nhận tính tốn dựa doanh thu, chi phí cố định chi phí phát sinh hàng ngày, miễn có chứng thuyết phục Ngồi ra, tịa án chấp nhận thiệt hại hệ phát sinh từ vi phạm, miễn khơng bị tính trùng chi phí tính tốn lợi nhuận bị bỏ lỡ thiệt hại lường trước Vì vậy, q trình hợp tác, để đề phòng rủi ro, doanh nghiệp Việt Nam cần dự trù tập hợp chứng, chứng cần thiết để đảm bảo tính thuyết phục thiệt hại lợi nhuận bị bỏ lỡ, thiệt hại hệ quả, liên quan khác chi phí phát sinh từ vi phạm bên Thứ ba, trường hợp xem xét yêu cầu bồi thường khoản lãi mà bên hưởng bên không vi phạm nghĩa vụ hợp đồng, He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w 12 We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t Tòa án xem xét chứng cứ, chứng để xác định có phải tiền lãi back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba thực tế phát sinh hay không để chấp nhận u cầu địi bồi thường Trong tình brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and này, bên có quyền lợi bị vi phạm phải đưa chứng drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n thuyết phục nhằm chứng minh cho yêu cầu đòi bồi thường hợp lý strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” Điều 302 Luật Thương Mại 2005 đưa khái niệm bồi thường thiệt hại, theo đó: bên gây thiệt hại phải bồi thường giá trị bồi thường bao gồm giá trị tổn thất thực tế, trực tiếp khoản lợi trực tiếp mà bên bị vi phạm hưởng khơng có hành vi vi phạm Điều 306 luật đưa quy định lãi suất số tiền chậm trả, khác với quy định CISG đưa mức chung, quy định Luật thương mại 2005 có tính cụ thể xác thực xét theo “lãi suất nợ hạn trung bình thị trường thời điểm toán ứng với thời gian chậm trả” Điều chi tiết Điều 11, Nghị 01/2019/NQ-HĐTP: “khi xác định lãi suất chậm trả số tiền chậm trả, Tòa án vào mức lãi suất nợ hạn trung bình thị trường 03 (ba) ngân hàng thương mại (Ngân hàng thương mại cổ phần Ngoại thương Việt Nam, Ngân hàng thương mại cổ phần Công thương Việt Nam, Ngân hàng Nông nghiệp phát triển nơng thơn Việt Nam, ) có trụ sở, chi nhánh phòng giao dịch tỉnh, thành phố trực thuộc trung ương nơi Tòa án giải quyết, xét xử có trụ sở thời điểm tốn (thời điểm xét xử sơ thẩm) để định mức lãi suất chậm trả, trừ trường hợp bên có thỏa thuận khác pháp luật có quy định khác.” Như vậy, việc áp dụng mức lãi suất theo Luật thương mại 2005 hợp lý hoàn toàn phù hợp với quy định CISG He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w 13 We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w 14 We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w 15 We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w 16 We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w 17 We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w 18 We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w 19 We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.” He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish In the first forty days a boy had been with him But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords But none of these scars were fresh They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff w 20 We’ve made some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him “No,” the old man said “You’re with a lucky boat Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said “But we have Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Ha taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace “Santiago,” the boy said “Yes,” the old man said He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No Go and play baseball I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go If I cannot fish with you I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all over me.” [12] “Can it to you?” “I remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said His hope and his confidence had never gone But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises “Two,” the boy said “Two,” the old man agreed “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said “Where are you going?” the boy asked “Far out to come in when the wind shifts I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes that bad?” “He is said “He never went turtle-ing That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack The shack was made of the toug called guano and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre These were relics of his wife Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt “What you have to eat?” the boy asked “A pot of yellow rice with fish Do you want some?” “No I will eat at home Do you want me to make the fire?” “No I will make it later on Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it But they went through this fiction every day There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too But the old man brought it out from under the bed “Perico gave it t back when I have the sardines I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can that,” the boy said “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “I can order one “One sheet That’s two dollars and a half Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too But I try not to borrow First you borrow Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down The boy took the over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze He was barefooted The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away Then he smiled “What have you got?” he asked “Supper,” said the boy “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it Then he started to fold the blanket “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said “What are we eating?” “Black beans and rice, fried ba brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set “Who gave this to you?” “Martin The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought The village water supply was two streets down the road I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him “In the American League it is the Yan “They lost today,” the boy told him “That means nothing The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally But he makes the difference In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know It was a great mistake He might have gone with us Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said “They say his father was a fisherman Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said “Tell me about the great John J McGraw.” He said Jota for J “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days But he was rough and drinking His mind was on horses as well as baseball At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said “There are many good fishermen and some great ones But there is only you.” “Thank you You make me happy I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said “Why old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said “All I know is that young boys sleep la man said “I’ll waken you in time.” “I not like for him to waken me It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, n strength, nor of his wife He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy He never dreamed about the boy He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy He was shivering with the morning cold But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on The old man went out the door and the boy came after him He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats When they reached the old man’s shack the boy harpoon and gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said “I feel confident today.” “So I,” the boy said “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits He brings our gear himself He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said “I let you carry things when you were five years old.”