《白痴》The Idiot ——中英对照（完结）_派派后花园

用户中心 游戏论坛 社区服务
发帖 回复
倒序阅读 最近浏览的帖子最近浏览的版块
« 返回列表
阅读：5742 回复：51

[Novel] 《白痴》The Idiot ——中英对照（完结）

 刷新数据 楼层直达
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 20楼  发表于: 2013-12-29 0

Part 2 Chapter 4
THEY passed through the same rooms which the prince had traversed on his arrival. In the largest there were pictures on the walls, portraits and landscapes of little interest. Over the door, however, there was one of strange and rather striking shape; it was six or seven feet in length, and not more than a foot in height. It represented the Saviour just taken from the cross.
The prince glanced at it, but took no further notice. He moved on hastily, as though anxious to get out of the house. But Rogojin suddenly stopped underneath the picture.
"My father picked up all these pictures very cheap at auctions, and so on," he said; "they are all rubbish, except the one over the door, and that is valuable. A man offered five hundred roubles for it last week."
"Yes--that's a copy of a Holbein," said the prince, looking at it again, "and a good copy, too, so far as I am able to judge. I saw the picture abroad, and could not forget it--what's the matter?"
Rogojin had dropped the subject of the picture and walked on. Of course his strange frame of mind was sufficient to account for his conduct; but, still, it seemed queer to the prince that he should so abruptly drop a conversation commenced by himself. Rogojin did not take any notice of his question.
"Lef Nicolaievitch," said Rogojin, after a pause, during which the two walked along a little further, "I have long wished to ask you, do you believe in God?"
"How strangely you speak, and how odd you look!" said the other, involuntarily.
"I like looking at that picture," muttered Rogojin, not noticing, apparently, that the prince had not answered his question.
"That picture! That picture!" cried Muishkin, struck by a sudden idea. "Why, a man's faith might be ruined by looking at that picture!"
"So it is!" said Rogojin, unexpectedly. They had now reached the front door.
The prince stopped.
"How?" he said. "What do you mean? I was half joking, and you took me up quite seriously! Why do you ask me whether I believe in God
"Oh, no particular reason. I meant to ask you before--many people are unbelievers nowadays, especially Russians, I have been told. You ought to know--you've lived abroad."
Rogojin laughed bitterly as he said these words, and opening the door, held it for the prince to pass out. Muishkin looked surprised, but went out. The other followed him as far as the landing of the outer stairs, and shut the door behind him. They both now stood facing one another, as though oblivious of where they were, or what they had to do next.
"Well, good-bye!" said the prince, holding out his hand.
"Good-bye," said Rogojin, pressing it hard, but quite mechanically.
The prince made one step forward, and then turned round.
"As to faith," he said, smiling, and evidently unwilling to leave Rogojin in this state--"as to faith, I had four curious conversations in two days, a week or so ago. One morning I met a man in the train, and made acquaintance with him at once. I had often heard of him as a very learned man, but an atheist; and I was very glad of the opportunity of conversing with so eminent and clever a person. He doesn't believe in God, and he talked a good deal about it, but all the while it appeared to me that he was speaking OUTSIDE THE SUBJECT. And it has always struck me, both in speaking to such men and in reading their books, that they do not seem really to be touching on that at all, though on the surface they may appear to do so. I told him this, but I dare say I did not clearly express what I meant, for he could not understand me.
"That same evening I stopped at a small provincial hotel, and it so happened that a dreadful murder had been committed there the night before, and everybody was talking about it. Two peasants-- elderly men and old friends--had had tea together there the night before, and were to occupy the same bedroom. They were not drunk but one of them had noticed for the first time that his friend possessed a silver watch which he was wearing on a chain. He was by no means a thief, and was, as peasants go, a rich man; but this watch so fascinated him that he could not restrain himself. He took a knife, and when his friend turned his back, he came up softly behind, raised his eyes to heaven, crossed himself, and saying earnestly--'God forgive me, for Christ's sake!' he cut his friend's throat like a sheep, and took the watch."
Rogojin roared with laughter. He laughed as though he were in a sort of fit. It was strange to see him laughing so after the sombre mood he had been in just before.
"Oh, I like that! That beats anything!" he cried convulsively, panting for breath. "One is an absolute unbeliever; the other is such a thorough--going believer that he murders his friend to the tune of a prayer! Oh, prince, prince, that's too good for anything! You can't have invented it. It's the best thing I've heard!"
"Next morning I went out for a stroll through the town," continued the prince, so soon as Rogojin was a little quieter, though his laughter still burst out at intervals, "and soon observed a drunken-looking soldier staggering about the pavement. He came up to me and said, 'Buy my silver cross, sir! You shall have it for fourpence--it's real silver.' I looked, and there he held a cross, just taken off his own neck, evidently, a large tin one, made after the Byzantine pattern. I fished out fourpence, and put his cross on my own neck, and I could see by his face that he was as pleased as he could be at the thought that he had succeeded in cheating a foolish gentleman, and away he went to drink the value of his cross. At that time everything that I saw made a tremendous impression upon me. I had understood nothing about Russia before, and had only vague and fantastic memories of it. So I thought, 'I will wait awhile before I condemn this Judas. Only God knows what may be hidden in the hearts of drunkards.'
"Well, I went homewards, and near the hotel I came across a poor woman, carrying a child--a baby of some six weeks old. The mother was quite a girl herself. The baby was smiling up at her, for the first time in its life, just at that moment; and while I watched the woman she suddenly crossed herself, oh, so devoutly! 'What is it, my good woman I asked her. (I was never but asking questions then!) Exactly as is a mother's joy when her baby smiles for the first time into her eyes, so is God's joy when one of His children turns and prays to Him for the first time, with all his heart!' This is what that poor woman said to me, almost word for word; and such a deep, refined, truly religious thought it was--a thought in which the whole essence of Christianity was expressed in one flash--that is, the recognition of God as our Father, and of God's joy in men as His own children, which is the chief idea of Christ. She was a simple country-woman--a mother, it's true-- and perhaps, who knows, she may have been the wife of the drunken soldier!
"Listen, Parfen; you put a question to me just now. This is my reply. The essence of religious feeling has nothing to do with reason, or atheism, or crime, or acts of any kind--it has nothing to do with these things--and never had. There is something besides all this, something which the arguments of the atheists can never touch. But the principal thing, and the conclusion of my argument, is that this is most clearly seen in the heart of a Russian. This is a conviction which I have gained while I have been in this Russia of ours. Yes, Parfen! there is work to be done; there is work to be done in this Russian world! Remember what talks we used to have in Moscow! And I never wished to come here at all; and I never thought to meet you like this, Parfen! Well, well--good-bye--good-bye! God be with you!"
He turned and went downstairs.
"Lef Nicolaievitch!" cried Parfen, before he had reached the next landing. "Have you got that cross you bought from the soldier with you?"
"Yes, I have," and the prince stopped again.
"Show it me, will you?"
A new fancy! The prince reflected, and then mounted the stairs once more. He pulled out the cross without taking it off his neck.
"Give it to me," said Parfen.
"Why? do you--"
The prince would rather have kept this particular cross.
"I'll wear it; and you shall have mine. I'll take it off at once."
"You wish to exchange crosses? Very well, Parfen, if that's the case, I'm glad enough--that makes us brothers, you know."
The prince took off his tin cross, Parfen his gold one, and the exchange was made.
Parfen was silent. With sad surprise the prince observed that the look of distrust, the bitter, ironical smile, had still not altogether left his newly-adopted brother's face. At moments, at all events, it showed itself but too plainly,
At last Rogojin took the prince's hand, and stood so for some moments, as though he could not make up his mind. Then he drew him along, murmuring almost inaudibly,
"Come!"
They stopped on the landing, and rang the bell at a door opposite to Parfen's own lodging.
An old woman opened to them and bowed low to Parfen, who asked her some questions hurriedly, but did not wait to hear her answer. He led the prince on through several dark, cold-looking rooms, spotlessly clean, with white covers over all the furniture.
Without the ceremony of knocking, Parfen entered a small apartment, furnished like a drawing-room, but with a polished mahogany partition dividing one half of it from what was probably a bedroom. In one corner of this room sat an old woman in an arm- chair, close to the stove. She did not look very old, and her face was a pleasant, round one; but she was white-haired and, as one could detect at the first glance, quite in her second childhood. She wore a black woollen dress, with a black handkerchief round her neck and shoulders, and a white cap with black ribbons. Her feet were raised on a footstool. Beside her sat another old woman, also dressed in mourning, and silently knitting a stocking; this was evidently a companion. They both looked as though they never broke the silence. The first old woman, so soon as she saw Rogojin and the prince, smiled and bowed courteously several times, in token of her gratification at their visit.
"Mother," said Rogojin, kissing her hand, "here is my great friend, Prince Muishkin; we have exchanged crosses; he was like a real brother to me at Moscow at one time, and did a great deal for me. Bless him, mother, as you would bless your own son. Wait a moment, let me arrange your hands for you."
But the old lady, before Parfen had time to touch her, raised her right hand, and, with three fingers held up, devoutly made the sign of the cross three times over the prince. She then nodded her head kindly at him once more.
"There, come along, Lef Nicolaievitch; that's all I brought you here for," said Rogojin.
When they reached the stairs again he added:
"She understood nothing of what I said to her, and did not know what I wanted her to do, and yet she blessed you; that shows she wished to do so herself. Well, goodbye; it's time you went, and I must go too."
He opened his own door.
"Well, let me at least embrace you and say goodbye, you strange fellow!" cried the prince, looking with gentle reproach at Rogojin, and advancing towards him. But the latter had hardly raised his arms when he dropped them again. He could not make up his mind to it; he turned away from the prince in order to avoid looking at him. He could not embrace him.
"Don't be afraid," he muttered, indistinctly, "though I have taken your cross, I shall not murder you for your watch." So saying, he laughed suddenly, and strangely. Then in a moment his face became transfigured; he grew deadly white, his lips trembled, his eves burned like fire. He stretched out his arms and held the prince tightly to him, and said in a strangled voice:
"Well, take her! It's Fate! She's yours. I surrender her.... Remember Rogojin!" And pushing the prince from him, without looking back at him, he hurriedly entered his own flat, and banged the door.


他们经过了公爵原先已经走过的房间；罗戈任稍走在前，公爵跟在他后面。他们走进了一间大厅。这里四周墙上挂着一些画，全是些主教的肖像画和风景画，但是画面已经模糊不清了。在通向接下来要经过的一个房间的门上方，挂着一幅样式很奇特的画，长两俄尺半左右，高无论如何也不超过六俄寸，上面画的是刚从十字架上取下来的救世主。公爵扫了一眼这张画，仿佛想起什么似的，但是他没有停留，想走进门去，他心里很沉重，想尽快离开这幢房子。但是罗戈任忽然在这幅画前停了下来。
“所有这里这些画，”他说，“全是先父在拍卖行里花一个或两个卢布买下来的，他喜欢这些画。一个懂行的人把这里所有的画都一一看过，他说，是些低劣货。而这一幅，就是门上这幅画，也是花两个卢布买来的，他说不是低劣之作，居然有一个人寻觅这张画，还对父亲说，愿出三百五十卢布的价，而萨维利耶夫·伊万·德米特里奇，一个商人，是个非常喜欢画的人，出价到四百卢布，上个星期则向谢苗·谢苗内奇哥哥提议五百卢布买它。我留下自己要。”
“噢，这……这是临摹汉斯·霍尔拜因的画，”公爵已经仔细看过这幅画，说，“虽然我不太在行，但是，我觉得这是很出色的一幅临摹画。我在国外看到过原画，便忘不了。但是……你怎么啦……”
罗戈任突然撇下画，照原路向前走去。当然，心不在焉和突然表露出来的特别奇怪的焦躁情绪也许可以解释他这种突然的行为；但毕竟使公爵感到有点纳闷，并非由他开始的谈话就这么中断了，而且罗戈任甚至都没有回答他。
“列夫·尼古拉伊奇，我早就想问，你信不信上帝。”走了几步，罗戈任忽然又说起话来。
“你问得真怪，还有，……你看人的这种神情！”公爵不由地指出。
“可我喜欢看这幅画，”罗戈任好像又忘了自己提出的问题，沉默了一会，然后低声说。
“看这幅画！”公爵在一个猛地冒出的想法的支配下、忽然喊了起来：“看这幅画！有的人会因为这幅画而失去信仰！”
“信仰是在失去，”出乎意外地罗戈任忽然肯定这一点，他们已经走到出去的那扇门口了。
“怎么呢？，公爵忽然站住，“你说什么呀？我几乎是开玩笑说的，你却那么当真！你干吗要问信不信上帝？”
“没什么，随便问问。我过去就想问。现在不是有许多人不信吗？有一个人喝醉了酒对我说。在我们俄罗斯不信上帝的人比所有别的地方要多，是真的吗？你在国外生活过，你说呢？他说，‘我们，在这点上比他们轻松些，因为我们走得比他们远……”
罗戈任刻薄地笑了一下；说完自己的问题，他突然打开了门，抓住门锁的把手，等公爵走出去，公爵很惊奇，但还是走了出去。罗戈任跟在他后面走到楼梯口，在身后关上了门。两人面对面站着，那样子好像两人都忘了，要往哪儿走，现在该做什么。
“再见，”公爵伸过手说。
“再见，罗戈任紧紧地但完全是机械地握着公爵递给他的手，说。
公爵走下一级，又转过身来。
“说到信仰，”他莞尔一笑（他显然不想就这样留下罗戈任），此外也受到突如其来的回忆的影响而有了兴致，开始说，“说到信仰，我在上星期两天之内遇见过四个不同的人。早晨我乘一条新铁路线上的火车，四个小时都跟一个Ｃ先生坐在车厢里聊天，立即就熟识了。还在以前我就听说过有关他的许多事情，顺便说，那都是讲他是无神论者的事，他这个人确实很有学问，我也很高兴跟一个真正有学问的人谈话。而且，他是个少有的教养好的人，跟我谈话完全就像跟一个在知识水平和理解能力上跟他一样的人那样。他不信上帝。只是有一点使我惊讶：他仿佛根本不是谈那个问题，始终都是这样，之所以使我惊讶，是因为过去，不论我遇见过多少不信上帝的人，也不论我读过多少这种书，我总觉得，他们说的和他们在书上写的仿佛根本不是在谈那个问题，虽然表面上看来是不谈那个问题。当时我就向他谈出了这种感受，但是，想必我没有讲清楚或者不善于表达，因为他什么也不明白……晚上我在一家县城的旅馆里住宿，这家旅馆刚发生了一起杀人事件，就在我到的上一夜，大家都在谈论这件事，两个农民，都已有了点年纪、没有喝醉，彼此已经相知甚久，是好朋友，喝够茶以后，他们想一起睡一间斗室里，但是在最后两天，一个看见另一个有一块银表，系在穿着黄色玻璃珠子的细绳上，显然他过去不知道对方有表。这个人并不是小偷，甚至还很老实，就农民的生活来说根本不穷。但是这块表那样叫他喜爱，又那样诱惑他，最后，他就克制不住了：拿起了刀，等好朋友翻过身去后，他就从背后小心翼翼地走近去，把刀对准他的朋友，眼睛朝天，划着十字，痛苦地暗自祷告：‘主啊，看在基督面上宽恕我吧！’接着就像宰一头羊似的一下子把朋友杀了，掏走了那块表。”
罗戈任纵声大笑。他笑得非常厉害，就像毛病发作似的。刚才他还怀着阴郁的情绪，现在看着他这样狂笑。甚至不由得让人感到奇怪。
“我就喜欢这样！不，这是最精彩的了！”他痉挛一般喊道，几乎喘不过气来。“一个根本不信上帝，另一个却信到杀人还要祷告……不，公爵兄弟，这不是虚构杜撰！哈一哈一哈！不，这是最精彩的了！”
“第二天早晨我在城里闲逛，”罗戈任一停下来，公爵就继续说，虽然痉挛的笑仍然阵阵发作，使罗戈任的双唇不住地哆嚏。“我看见，一个喝醉酒的士兵，样子十分邋蹋，跌跌冲冲在木头人行道上走着。他走到我跟前说，‘老爷，买了这个银十字架吧，２０戈比我就卖给您，是银的呀！’我看见他手中有一个十字架，大概刚从自己身上取下来，系在一根很脏的淡兰色带子上，但是一看就知道，只是真正的锡做的，大号的，有八端，有完整的拜占庭图画。我掏出２０戈比给了他，当即把十字架戴到自己身上。从他脸上看得出，他是多么得意，因为骗过了一个愚蠢的老爷，而且立即就拿十字回换来的钱去喝酒了，这是毋容置疑的。兄弟，回俄罗斯后向我涌来的一切，当时留给我十分强烈的印象；过去我对俄罗斯毫不了解，就像是个聋哑人似的，在国外这五年里常常有点带着幻想怀念着它。我一边走一边想：不。还是等一等再谴责这个出卖基督的人。上帝可是知道的，在这些醉醺醺的虚弱的心灵中包含着什么。过了一小时，在回旅馆的路上，我碰上了一个怀抱婴儿的女人。这女人还年轻，小孩刚六个星期。孩子朝她笑了一下，据她观察，这是他生下来第一次笑。我看到，她突然虔诚虔敬地划了个十字。‘你这是干什么，大嫂？’我说。（我那时什么都要问。）她说，‘这跟别的母亲一样，当她发现自己的小宝贝第一次微笑时，她会多么高兴，上帝也会这样，每次当他从天上看到有罪的凡人在他面前诚心诚意地祈祷，他也会这样高兴。’这是那个女人对我说的，差不多就是这么说的，她说出了这么深刻、这么细腻的真正是宗教的思想，一下子表达了基督教的全部实质，也就是这样一个概念：上帝就像我们的生身父亲，上帝因人而高兴犹如父亲”因自己的亲生孩子高兴一样，这就是塞督教最主要的思想！一个普通的乡下女人！真的，是个母亲……谁知道，也许这个女人就是那个士兵的妻子。听着，帕尔芬，你刚才问过我）我的回答是这样，宗教感情的实质与任何高谈阔论，与任何过错和犯罪，与任何无神论都不相于，这里好像不是那么回事，而且永远不是那么回事；这里似乎是这么回事：有关它的问题各种各样的无神论将永远只是一滑而过，将永远说不到要点上。但主要的是，在俄罗斯人的心灵上可以最明显，最快地发现这一点，这就是我的结论！这是我从我们俄罗斯得出的最早的信念之一。要做的事情有的是，帕尔芬！在我们俄罗斯这块天地里大有事情可做，相信我！你回想一下在莫斯科有一段时间我们常碰头和谈天的情景……现在我根本不想回到这里来！根本不想这样跟你见面，根本不想！算了，说这干什么！……告辞了，再见！愿上帝不会撇下你！”
他转过身，开始下搂梯。
“列夫·尼古拉耶维奇！”当公爵走到楼梯第一处拐弯的小平台时，帕尔芬在上面喊他，“你向士兵买的那个十字架，是不是带在身上？”
“是的，我戴着。”
公爵又停了下来。
“到这里来拿出来看看。”
又是新奇事儿！公爵想了想，又朝上走，把自己的十字架拿出来给他看，但是没有从脖子上取下来。
“给我吧，”罗戈任说。
“为什么？难道你……”
公爵不想割舍这个十字架。
“我要戴它，我把自己的拿下来给你，你戴。”
“你想交换十字架？既然这样，帕尔芬，请拿去吧，我很高兴；我们做弟兄吧！”
公爵摘下了自己的锡十字架，帕尔芬则取下了自己的金十字架，互相交换了。帕尔芬沉默不语。公爵带着沉重而又惊讶的心情发觉，过去的不信任，过去那种近乎嘲笑的苦笑似乎依然没有从他结拜兄弟脸上消失，至少有好儿回一瞬间中强烈地流露出来。最后，罗戈任默默地握着公爵的手，站了一会，仿佛下不了决心做什么，末了，忽然拽住公爵，用勉强听得见的声音说：“我们走。”他们穿过一楼的平台，在他们刚才走出来的那扇门对面的门旁打了铃。很快就有人力他们开了门，一个系头巾，穿一身黑衣服的驼背老妇人默默地低低地向罗戈任鞠着躬；他则很快地问她什么，也不停下来听回答，继续带公爵走过污间。他们又走过一个个幽暗的房间，那里有一种异常的、冷静的洁净，蒙着清洁白套子的古老家具透出一种寒森森、阴沉沉的感觉。罗戈任未经通报，径直把公爵带到一间像是客厅的不大的房间，那里隔着一道闪亮的红木板壁，两侧各有一扇门，板壁后面大概是卧室。在客厅角落里，桌子旁边，有一位小个子老太坐在扶手倚里，从外貌来看她还不算很老，甚至还有一张相当健康、讨喜的圆脸，但是已经满头银丝，而且一眼就可以断定她患有老年痴呆症。她穿着黑。色毛料衣裙，脖子上围着一条黑色大围巾，头戴一顶有黑色丝带的洁白的包发帽。她的脚搁在一张小樊上。她身旁还有一位整洁干净的老太婆，比她还老，她穿着丧服，也戴着白色发帽，想必是寡居这里的，她默默地织着袜子。她们俩大概一直默默无语。第一个老太一看见罗戈任和公爵，就朝他们笑了一下，并好几次朝他们亲切地点头表示高兴。
“妈妈，”罗戈任吻了她的手，说，“这是我的好朋友，列夫·尼古拉那多奇·梅什金公爵，我跟他交换了十字架，在莫斯科有一段时间他对于我来说就像是亲兄弟，为我做了许多事，妈妈，为他祝福吧，就像为你亲生儿子祝福一样。等等，老妈妈，是这样，让我来帮你把手指捏忏……”
但是帕尔芬还没有动手以前，老太婆就抬起自己的右手，聚拢三个手指头，为公爵虔诚地划了三次十字。后来又一次朝他亲切和温柔地点了点头。
“好，我们走吧，列夫·尼古拉耶维奇，”帕尔芬说，“我就是为此才带你来的……”
当他们又来到楼梯口的时候，他补充说：
“瞧她根本就不明白人家说什么，也丝毫不懂我的话，可是却为你祝福了这就是说，是她自己愿意的……好了，再见吧，我和你都到该分手的时候了。”
他打开了自己的门。
“让我至少拥抱你一下作为告别吧，你真是个奇怪的人！”公爵含着温和的责备望着罗戈任大声说，并且想要拥抱他。但是帕尔芬刚抬起双手，立刻又放下了。他没有决心，并且转过身去，免得看着公爵。他不想拥抱他。
“不要怕！我虽然拿了你的十字架，但不会为了表而杀了你！”他不知为什么奇怪地笑着，含混不清地嘟哝说。但是，忽然他的脸整个儿变了样：脸色白得吓人，双唇哆嗦着，眼睛熠熠发光。他抬起双手，紧紧地拥抱了公爵，喘着气说：
“你就把她拿去吧，既然命运是这样！她是你的！我让给你……记住罗戈任！”
他撇下公爵，也不朝他看一眼，匆匆走进自己房间，砰的一声在身后关上了门。
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 21楼  发表于: 2014-01-17 0

Part 2 Chapter 5
IT was late now, nearly half-past two, and the prince did not find General Epanchin at home. He left a card, and determined to look up Colia, who had a room at a small hotel near. Colia was not in, but he was informed that he might be back shortly, and had left word that if he were not in by half-past three it was to be understood that he had gone to Pavlofsk to General Epanchin's, and would dine there. The prince decided to wait till half-past three, and ordered some dinner. At half-past three there was no sign of Colia. The prince waited until four o'clock, and then strolled off mechanically wherever his feet should carry him.
In early summer there are often magnificent days in St. Petersburg--bright, hot and still. This happened to be such a day.
For some time the prince wandered about without aim or object. He did not know the town well. He stopped to look about him on bridges, at street corners. He entered a confectioner's shop to rest, once. He was in a state of nervous excitement and perturbation; he noticed nothing and no one; and he felt a craving for solitude, to be alone with his thoughts and his emotions, and to give himself up to them passively. He loathed the idea of trying to answer the questions that would rise up in his heart and mind. "I am not to blame for all this," he thought to himself, half unconsciously.
Towards six o'clock he found himself at the station of the Tsarsko-Selski railway.
He was tired of solitude now; a new rush of feeling took hold of him, and a flood of light chased away the gloom, for a moment, from his soul. He took a ticket to Pavlofsk, and determined to get there as fast as he could, but something stopped him; a reality, and not a fantasy, as he was inclined to think it. He was about to take his place in a carriage, when he suddenly threw away his ticket and came out again, disturbed and thoughtful. A few moments later, in the street, he recalled something that had bothered him all the afternoon. He caught himself engaged in a strange occupation which he now recollected he had taken up at odd moments for the last few hours--it was looking about all around him for something, he did not know what. He had forgotten it for a while, half an hour or so, and now, suddenly, the uneasy search had recommenced.
But he had hardly become conscious of this curious phenomenon, when another recollection suddenly swam through his brain, interesting him for the moment, exceedingly. He remembered that the last time he had been engaged in looking around him for the unknown something, he was standing before a cutler's shop, in the window of which were exposed certain goods for sale. He was extremely anxious now to discover whether this shop and these goods really existed, or whether the whole thing had been a hallucination.
He felt in a very curious condition today, a condition similar to that which had preceded his fits in bygone years.
He remembered that at such times he had been particularly absentminded, and could not discriminate between objects and persons unless he concentrated special attention upon them.
He remembered seeing something in the window marked at sixty copecks. Therefore, if the shop existed and if this object were really in the window, it would prove that he had been able to concentrate his attention on this article at a moment when, as a general rule, his absence of mind would have been too great to admit of any such concentration; in fact, very shortly after he had left the railway station in such a state of agitation.
So he walked back looking about him for the shop, and his heart beat with intolerable impatience. Ah! here was the very shop, and there was the article marked 60 cop." "Of course, it's sixty copecks," he thought, and certainly worth no more." This idea amused him and he laughed.
But it was a hysterical laugh; he was feeling terribly oppressed. He remembered clearly that just here, standing before this window, he had suddenly turned round, just as earlier in the day he had turned and found the dreadful eyes of Rogojin fixed upon him. Convinced, therefore, that in this respect at all events he had been under no delusion, he left the shop and went on.
This must be thought out; it was clear that there had been no hallucination at the station then, either; something had actually happened to him, on both occasions; there was no doubt of it. But again a loathing for all mental exertion overmastered him; he would not think it out now, he would put it off and think of something else. He remembered that during his epileptic fits, or rather immediately preceding them, he had always experienced a moment or two when his whole heart, and mind, and body seemed to wake up to vigour and light; when he became filled with joy and hope, and all his anxieties seemed to be swept away for ever; these moments were but presentiments, as it were, of the one final second (it was never more than a second) in which the fit came upon him. That second, of course, was inexpressible. When his attack was over, and the prince reflected on his symptoms, he used to say to himself: "These moments, short as they are, when I feel such extreme consciousness of myself, and consequently more of life than at other times, are due only to the disease--to the sudden rupture of normal conditions. Therefore they are not really a higher kind of life, but a lower." This reasoning, however, seemed to end in a paradox, and lead to the further consideration:--"What matter though it be only disease, an abnormal tension of the brain, if when I recall and analyze the moment, it seems to have been one of harmony and beauty in the highest degree--an instant of deepest sensation, overflowing with unbounded joy and rapture, ecstatic devotion, and completest life?" Vague though this sounds, it was perfectly comprehensible to Muishkin, though he knew that it was but a feeble expression of his sensations.
That there was, indeed, beauty and harmony in those abnormal moments, that they really contained the highest synthesis of life, he could not doubt, nor even admit the possibility of doubt. He felt that they were not analogous to the fantastic and unreal dreams due to intoxication by hashish, opium or wine. Of that he could judge, when the attack was over. These instants were characterized--to define it in a word--by an intense quickening of the sense of personality. Since, in the last conscious moment preceding the attack, he could say to himself, with full understanding of his words: "I would give my whole life for this one instant," then doubtless to him it really was worth a lifetime. For the rest, he thought the dialectical part of his argument of little worth; he saw only too clearly that the result of these ecstatic moments was stupefaction, mental darkness, idiocy. No argument was possible on that point. His conclusion, his estimate of the "moment," doubtless contained some error, yet the reality of the sensation troubled him. What's more unanswerable than a fact? And this fact had occurred. The prince had confessed unreservedly to himself that the feeling of intense beatitude in that crowded moment made the moment worth a lifetime. "I feel then," he said one day to Rogojin in Moscow, "I feel then as if I understood those amazing words--'There shall be no more time.'" And he added with a smile: "No doubt the epileptic Mahomet refers to that same moment when he says that he visited all the dwellings of Allah, in less time than was needed to empty his pitcher of water." Yes, he had often met Rogojin in Moscow, and many were the subjects they discussed. "He told me I had been a brother to him," thought the prince. "He said so today, for the first time."
He was sitting in the Summer Garden on a seat under a tree, and his mind dwelt on the matter. It was about seven o'clock, and the place was empty. The stifling atmosphere foretold a storm, and the prince felt a certain charm in the contemplative mood which possessed him. He found pleasure, too, in gazing at the exterior objects around him. All the time he was trying to forget some thing, to escape from some idea that haunted him; but melancholy thoughts came back, though he would so willingly have escaped from them. He remembered suddenly how he had been talking to the waiter, while he dined, about a recently committed murder which the whole town was discussing, and as he thought of it something strange came over him. He was seized all at once by a violent desire, almost a temptation, against which he strove in vain.
He jumped up and walked off as fast as he could towards the "Petersburg Side." [One of the quarters of St. Petersburg.] He had asked someone, a little while before, to show him which was the Petersburg Side, on the banks of the Neva. He had not gone there, however; and he knew very well that it was of no use to go now, for he would certainly not find Lebedeff's relation at home. He had the address, but she must certainly have gone to Pavlofsk, or Colia would have let him know. If he were to go now, it would merely be out of curiosity, but a sudden, new idea had come into his head.
However, it was something to move on and know where he was going. A minute later he was still moving on, but without knowing anything. He could no longer think out his new idea. He tried to take an interest in all he saw; in the sky, in the Neva. He spoke to some children he met. He felt his epileptic condition becoming more and more developed. The evening was very close; thunder was heard some way off.
The prince was haunted all that day by the face of Lebedeff's nephew whom he had seen for the first time that morning, just as one is haunted at times by some persistent musical refrain. By a curious association of ideas, the young man always appeared as the murderer of whom Lebedeff had spoken when introducing him to Muishkin. Yes, he had read something about the murder, and that quite recently. Since he came to Russia, he had heard many stories of this kind, and was interested in them. His conversation with the waiter, an hour ago, chanced to be on the subject of this murder of the Zemarins, and the latter had agreed with him about it. He thought of the waiter again, and decided that he was no fool, but a steady, intelligent man: though, said he to himself, "God knows what he may really be; in a country with which one is unfamiliar it is difficult to understand the people one meets." He was beginning to have a passionate faith in the Russian soul, however, and what discoveries he had made in the last six months, what unexpected discoveries! But every soul is a mystery, and depths of mystery lie in the soul of a Russian. He had been intimate with Rogojin, for example, and a brotherly friendship had sprung up between them--yet did he really know him? What chaos and ugliness fills the world at times! What a self-satisfied rascal is that nephew of Lebedeff's! "But what am I thinking," continued the prince to himself. "Can he really have committed that crime? Did he kill those six persons? I seem to be confusing things ... how strange it all is.... My head goes round... And Lebedeff's daughter--how sympathetic and charming her face was as she held the child in her arms! What an innocent look and child-like laugh she had! It is curious that I had forgotten her until now. I expect Lebedeff adores her--and I really believe, when I think of it, that as sure as two and two make four, he is fond of that nephew, too!"
Well, why should he judge them so hastily! Could he really say what they were, after one short visit? Even Lebedeff seemed an enigma today. Did he expect to find him so? He had never seen him like that before. Lebedeff and the Comtesse du Barry! Good Heavens! If Rogojin should really kill someone, it would not, at any rate, be such a senseless, chaotic affair. A knife made to a special pattern, and six people killed in a kind of delirium. But Rogojin also had a knife made to a special pattern. Can it be that Rogojin wishes to murder anyone? The prince began to tremble violently. "It is a crime on my part to imagine anything so base, with such cynical frankness." His face reddened with shame at the thought; and then there came across him as in a flash the memory of the incidents at the Pavlofsk station, and at the other station in the morning; and the question asked him by Rogojin about THE EYES and Rogojin's cross, that he was even now wearing; and the benediction of Rogojin's mother; and his embrace on the darkened staircase--that last supreme renunciation--and now, to find himself full of this new "idea," staring into shop-windows, and looking round for things--how base he was!
Despair overmastered his soul; he would not go on, he would go back to his hotel; he even turned and went the other way; but a moment after he changed his mind again and went on in the old direction.
Why, here he was on the Petersburg Side already, quite close to the house! Where was his "idea"? He was marching along without it now. Yes, his malady was coming back, it was clear enough; all this gloom and heaviness, all these "ideas," were nothing more nor less than a fit coming on; perhaps he would have a fit this very day.
But just now all the gloom and darkness had fled, his heart felt full of joy and hope, there was no such thing as doubt. And yes, he hadn't seen her for so long; he really must see her. He wished he could meet Rogojin; he would take his hand, and they would go to her together. His heart was pure, he was no rival of Parfen's. Tomorrow, he would go and tell him that he had seen her. Why, he had only come for the sole purpose of seeing her, all the way from Moscow! Perhaps she might be here still, who knows? She might not have gone away to Pavlofsk yet.
Yes, all this must be put straight and above-board, there must be no more passionate renouncements, such as Rogojin's. It must all be clear as day. Cannot Rogojin's soul bear the light? He said he did not love her with sympathy and pity; true, he added that "your pity is greater than my love," but he was not quite fair on himself there. Kin! Rogojin reading a book--wasn't that sympathy beginning? Did it not show that he comprehended his relations with her? And his story of waiting day and night for her forgiveness? That didn't look quite like passion alone.
And as to her face, could it inspire nothing but passion? Could her face inspire passion at all now? Oh, it inspired suffering, grief, overwhelming grief of the soul! A poignant, agonizing memory swept over the prince's heart.
Yes, agonizing. He remembered how he had suffered that first day when he thought he observed in her the symptoms of madness. He had almost fallen into despair. How could he have lost his hold upon her when she ran away from him to Rogojin? He ought to have run after her himself, rather than wait for news as he had done. Can Rogojin have failed to observe, up to now, that she is mad? Rogojin attributes her strangeness to other causes, to passion! What insane jealousy! What was it he had hinted at in that suggestion of his? The prince suddenly blushed, and shuddered to his very heart.
But why recall all this? There was insanity on both sides. For him, the prince, to love this woman with passion, was unthinkable. It would be cruel and inhuman. Yes. Rogojin is not fair to himself; he has a large heart; he has aptitude for sympathy. When he learns the truth, and finds what a pitiable being is this injured, broken, half-insane creature, he will forgive her all the torment she has caused him. He will become her slave, her brother, her friend. Compassion will teach even Rogojin, it will show him how to reason. Compassion is the chief law of human existence. Oh, how guilty he felt towards Rogojin! And, for a few warm, hasty words spoken in Moscow, Parfen had called him "brother," while he--but no, this was delirium! It would all come right! That gloomy Parfen had implied that his faith was waning; he must suffer dreadfully. He said he liked to look at that picture; it was not that he liked it, but he felt the need of looking at it. Rogojin was not merely a passionate soul; he was a fighter. He was fighting for the restoration of his dying faith. He must have something to hold on to and believe, and someone to believe in. What a strange picture that of Holbein's is! Why, this is the street, and here's the house, No. 16.
The prince rang the bell, and asked for Nastasia Philipovna. The lady of the house came out, and stated that Nastasia had gone to stay with Daria Alexeyevna at Pavlofsk, and might be there some days.
Madame Filisoff was a little woman of forty, with a cunning face, and crafty, piercing eyes. When, with an air of mystery, she asked her visitor's name, he refused at first to answer, but in a moment he changed his mind, and left strict instructions that it should be given to Nastasia Philipovna. The urgency of his request seemed to impress Madame Filisoff, and she put on a knowing expression, as if to say, "You need not be afraid, I quite understand." The prince's name evidently was a great surprise to her. He stood and looked absently at her for a moment, then turned, and took the road back to his hotel. But he went away not as he came. A great change had suddenly come over him. He went blindly forward; his knees shook under him; he was tormented by "ideas"; his lips were blue, and trembled with a feeble, meaningless smile. His demon was upon him once more.
What had happened to him? Why was his brow clammy with drops of moisture, his knees shaking beneath him, and his soul oppressed with a cold gloom? Was it because he had just seen these dreadful eyes again? Why, he had left the Summer Garden on purpose to see them; that had been his "idea." He had wished to assure himself that he would see them once more at that house. Then why was he so overwhelmed now, having seen them as he expected? just as though he had not expected to see them! Yes, they were the very same eyes; and no doubt about it. The same that he had seen in the crowd that morning at the station, the same that he had surprised in Rogojin's rooms some hours later, when the latter had replied to his inquiry with a sneering laugh, "Well, whose eyes were they?" Then for the third time they had appeared just as he was getting into the train on his way to see Aglaya. He had had a strong impulse to rush up to Rogojin, and repeat his words of the morning "Whose eyes are they?" Instead he had fled from the station, and knew nothing more, until he found himself gazing into the window of a cutler's shop, and wondering if a knife with a staghorn handle would cost more than sixty copecks. And as the prince sat dreaming in the Summer Garden under a lime-tree, a wicked demon had come and whispered in his car: "Rogojin has been spying upon you and watching you all the morning in a frenzy of desperation. When he finds you have not gone to Pavlofsk--a terrible discovery for him--he will surely go at once to that house in Petersburg Side, and watch for you there, although only this morning you gave your word of honour not to see HER, and swore that you had not come to Petersburg for that purpose." And thereupon the prince had hastened off to that house, and what was there in the fact that he had met Rogojin there? He had only seen a wretched, suffering creature, whose state of mind was gloomy and miserable, but most comprehensible. In the morning Rogojin had seemed to be trying to keep out of the way; but at the station this afternoon he had stood out, he had concealed himself, indeed, less than the prince himself; at the house, now, he had stood fifty yards off on the other side of the road, with folded hands, watching, plainly in view and apparently desirous of being seen. He had stood there like an accuser, like a judge, not like a--a what?
And why had not the prince approached him and spoken to him, instead of turning away and pretending he had seen nothing, although their eyes met? (Yes, their eyes had met, and they had looked at each other.) Why, he had himself wished to take Rogojin by the hand and go in together, he had himself determined to go to him on the morrow and tell him that he had seen her, he had repudiated the demon as he walked to the house, and his heart had been full of joy.
Was there something in the whole aspect of the man, today, sufficient to justify the prince's terror, and the awful suspicions of his demon? Something seen, but indescribable, which filled him with dreadful presentiments? Yes, he was convinced of it--convinced of what? (Oh, how mean and hideous of him to feel this conviction, this presentiment! How he blamed himself for it!) "Speak if you dare, and tell me, what is the presentiment?" he repeated to himself, over and over again. "Put it into words, speak out clearly and distinctly. Oh, miserable coward that I am!" The prince flushed with shame for his own baseness. "How shall I ever look this man in the face again? My God, what a day! And what a nightmare, what a nightmare!"
There was a moment, during this long, wretched walk back from the Petersburg Side, when the prince felt an irresistible desire to go straight to Rogojin's, wait for him, embrace him with tears of shame and contrition, and tell him of his distrust, and finish with it--once for all.
But here he was back at his hotel.
How often during the day he had thought of this hotel with loathing--its corridor, its rooms, its stairs. How he had dreaded coming back to it, for some reason.
"What a regular old woman I am today," he had said to himself each time, with annoyance. "I believe in every foolish presentiment that comes into my head."
He stopped for a moment at the door; a great flush of shame came over him. "I am a coward, a wretched coward," he said, and moved forward again; but once more he paused.
Among all the incidents of the day, one recurred to his mind to the exclusion of the rest; although now that his self-control was regained, and he was no longer under the influence of a nightmare, he was able to think of it calmly. It concerned the knife on Rogojin's table. "Why should not Rogojin have as many knives on his table as he chooses?" thought the prince, wondering at his suspicions, as he had done when he found himself looking into the cutler's window. "What could it have to do with me?" he said to himself again, and stopped as if rooted to the ground by a kind of paralysis of limb such as attacks people under the stress of some humiliating recollection.
The doorway was dark and gloomy at any time; but just at this moment it was rendered doubly so by the fact that the thunder- storm had just broken, and the rain was coming down in torrents.
And in the semi-darkness the prince distinguished a man standing close to the stairs, apparently waiting.
There was nothing particularly significant in the fact that a man was standing back in the doorway, waiting to come out or go upstairs; but the prince felt an irresistible conviction that he knew this man, and that it was Rogojin. The man moved on up the stairs; a moment later the prince passed up them, too. His heart froze within him. "In a minute or two I shall know all," he thought.
The staircase led to the first and second corridors of the hotel, along which lay the guests' bedrooms. As is often the case in Petersburg houses, it was narrow and very dark, and turned around a massive stone column.
On the first landing, which was as small as the necessary turn of the stairs allowed, there was a niche in the column, about half a yard wide, and in this niche the prince felt convinced that a man stood concealed. He thought he could distinguish a figure standing there. He would pass by quickly and not look. He took a step forward, but could bear the uncertainty no longer and turned his head.
The eyes--the same two eyes--met his! The man concealed in the niche had also taken a step forward. For one second they stood face to face.
Suddenly the prince caught the man by the shoulder and twisted him round towards the light, so that he might see his face more clearly.
Rogojin's eyes flashed, and a smile of insanity distorted his countenance. His right hand was raised, and something glittered in it. The prince did not think of trying to stop it. All he could remember afterwards was that he seemed to have called out:
"Parfen! I won't believe it."
Next moment something appeared to burst open before him: a wonderful inner light illuminated his soul. This lasted perhaps half a second, yet he distinctly remembered hearing the beginning of the wail, the strange, dreadful wail, which burst from his lips of its own accord, and which no effort of will on his part could suppress.
Next moment he was absolutely unconscious; black darkness blotted out everything.
He had fallen in an epileptic fit.
.. . . . . . .
As is well known, these fits occur instantaneously. The face, especially the eyes, become terribly disfigured, convulsions seize the limbs, a terrible cry breaks from the sufferer, a wail from which everything human seems to be blotted out, so that it is impossible to believe that the man who has just fallen is the same who emitted the dreadful cry. It seems more as though some other being, inside the stricken one, had cried. Many people have borne witness to this impression; and many cannot behold an epileptic fit without a feeling of mysterious terror and dread.
Such a feeling, we must suppose, overtook Rogojin at this moment, and saved the prince's life. Not knowing that it was a fit, and seeing his victim disappear head foremost into the darkness, hearing his head strike the stone steps below with a crash, Rogojin rushed downstairs, skirting the body, and flung himself headlong out of the hotel, like a raving madman.
The prince's body slipped convulsively down the steps till it rested at the bottom. Very soon, in five minutes or so, he was discovered, and a crowd collected around him.
A pool of blood on the steps near his head gave rise to grave fears. Was it a case of accident, or had there been a crime? It was, however, soon recognized as a case of epilepsy, and identification and proper measures for restoration followed one another, owing to a fortunate circumstance. Colia Ivolgin had come back to his hotel about seven o'clock, owing to a sudden impulse which made him refuse to dine at the Epanchins', and, finding a note from the prince awaiting him, had sped away to the latter's address. Arrived there, he ordered a cup of tea and sat sipping it in the coffee-room. While there he heard excited whispers of someone just found at the bottom of the stairs in a fit; upon which he had hurried to the spot, with a presentiment of evil, and at once recognized the prince.
The sufferer was immediately taken to his room, and though he partially regained consciousness, he lay long in a semi-dazed condition.
The doctor stated that there was no danger to be apprehended from the wound on the head, and as soon as the prince could understand what was going on around him, Colia hired a carriage and took him away to Lebedeff's. There he was received with much cordiality, and the departure to the country was hastened on his account. Three days later they were all at Pavlofsk.

已经很晚了，差不多是两点半的时候，公爵在叶潘钦家没有遇上将军。他留下名片后，决定去一趟《天平旅馆》问问科利亚；如果他不在那里，就给他留张字条。在《天平旅馆》人家对他说，“尼古拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇还是一大早时就出去了，但是走的时候预先关照了，万一有人来找他，那么就告诉人家，他大概在３点钟左右回来。如果到３点半他还不回来，那就是坐火车去帕夫洛夫斯克叶潘钦将军夫人的别墅了，而且也就在那儿用饭了。”公爵便坐下等待，顺便就给自己要了午餐。
到了３点半甚至４点钟科利亚还没有来。公爵走到外面，无意识地随意走着。夏初，彼得堡有时偶而会有一些美妙的日子--明媚，炎热，宁静，好像故意似的，这一天就是这种难得的好天气。公爵漫无目的地闲逛了一阵。他对这个城市不大熟悉。他不时地在街道的十字路口，有陌生的房量前，在广场上，在桥上停步驻足；有一次还顺便走进了一家点心店休息了一下。有时他怀着极大的好奇心开始观察过往行人，但是往往既没有注意行人，也没有注意自己究竟在什么地方走，他处于痛苦的紧张和不安之中，同时又感到非常需要独自呆着。他很想就只有他一个人，完全消极地顺从这种令人痛苦的紧张而不去寻求出路。他怀着厌恶的心情不想去解决涌向他心头的一连串问题。“怎么，难道这一切是我错了？”他暗自嘀咕着，但又几乎意识到自已去那里；但是，无疑地，有什么东西总是使他心绪不宁，这就是现实，而不是如他所喜欢想的那种幻想。他几乎已经在车厢里坐了下来，又突然把刚刚买的车票丢到地上，重又从车站走了儿来，一副窘困和沉思的神态。过了一会儿，在街上，他似乎忽然想起了什么，似乎猛然揣度到什么很奇怪的，久久使他不得安宁的事情。突然他不由地意识到自己在做的一件事已经持续很久了，可是直到此刻他却一直没有关注这件事：已经有汗几个小时了，甚至还是在《天平旅馆》时，好像还是在抵达《天平旅馆》之前，他间或突然会开始在自己周围似乎寻找什么。随后就忘了，忘的时间还挺长，有半小时，接着又怀着不安的心态四面环顾，在周围寻觅着。
但是他刚刚发现自己这种病态的，至今还完全是不自觉的、却又早已左右看他的行动，突然在他眼前闪过了另一个回忆，引起他莫大的注意。他回想起，就在他发觉自己老是在周围寻找什么的那一刻，他曾站在人行道上一家店铺的窗前，并以很大的好奇仔细打量着陈列在橱窗里的商品，现在他想一定要检验一下：他刚才是否真的在那里站过，大概就只是在５分钟前，就在这家店铺的橱窗前，莫不是他的幻觉，莫不是他搞混了？这家店铺和这种面品是否真的存在？因为他确实感到的，今天他自己的情绪特别不正常，差不多就跟过去毛病要开始发作时的情况一样，他知道，在病要发作的前期他总是异常心不在焉，如果不加特别高度的注意去看人和物，甚至常常会弄错。为什么他这么想检验一“下自己当时是否曾经站在店铺的橱窗前，是有特殊原因的：在店铺橱窗里陈列的许多东西中，有一件他曾看过，而且还估价６０个银戈比，尽管他完全漫不经心和忐忑不安，可是他记得有这么回事。因此，如果这家店铺是存在的，这件东西真的陈列在商品之中，那么，也就是说，他确实曾经为了这件东西而停留。这么说，这件东西包含着他的强烈兴趣，以致在他刚走出火车站、心情那样沉重惶惑的时候，竟还吸引了他的注意。他走着，几乎烦恼地朝右边望着，他的心因为焦躁的迫不及待而激烈地跳动着。但是，这就是店铺，他终于找到了它！当他突然想要往回走时，他距它已经只有五百步光景了。这就是值６０个银戈比的东西，“当然，就值６０戈比，不会更多！”他现在证实着，笑了起来，但他的笑是歇斯底里的，他觉得非常难受。他现在清楚地回想起，正是在这里，他站在这橱窗前的时候，曾经突然转过身来，就像下火车时捕捉到罗戈任的目光射在自己身上一样，他确信他没有错（其实，就是在检验以前他也完全是有把握的），他撇下了店铺，并且尽快离开它。所有这一切应该快点好好思考一下，一定要好好想想。现在很清楚，在车站上他见到的并不是幻觉，他所发生的一切一定是确有其事的，也一定是与他过去所有的不安相联系的。、但是一种发自内心的不可抗拒的厌恶又占了上风：他什么也不想考虑，他也下去思考，他开始思忖的完全是另一回事。
顺便说，他想的是，在他处于癫痫状态时几乎就在发病前有那个一个阶段（如果不是梦中发作的话），在忧郁、压抑和精神上的黑暗之中他的大脑经常会突发性地振奋起来，嗽如燃起火焰瞬息即逝一般，而他的全部生命力也会以不同寻常的冲动一下子鼓舞起来。在闪电一般短促的这些瞬间，生命的感受、自我的意识几乎增长十倍。智慧、心灵都被异常的光芒照得透亮；他所有的激动，所有的怀疑，所有的不安仿佛一下子都平息了下来，化成一种最高级的宁睁，充满着明朗、和谐的欢欣和希望，充满着理智和最终的缘由。但是这些时刻，这些闪光还只是那最后一秒钟（从来也不超过一秒钟）的预感，而发作本身就是从那时开始的。这一秒钟自然是难以忍受的。当后来处于健康状况下再来思考这些瞬间的，他常常自己对自己说，所有这些最高级的自我感受和自我意识亦即“最高级存在”的闪电和闪光不是别的，而正是疾病，是对正常状态的一种破坏，如果是这样的话，那么这就根本不是最高级存在，相反，应该列为最低级。然而，最后他还是得出了一个颇为离奇的想法。“这是病又怎么样？”他最后认为，“如果结果本身，如果已经是在健康状况下想起来的和弄明白的那一刻感受，是处于最高级的和谐和美之中，是能赋予至今尚闻所未闻，料想不到的充实感、分寸感，是能在充满激情的虔诚中同最高级的生命综合体调和与融合，那么这种不正常的亢奋又有什么相干呢。”这些模模糊糊的话语虽然表达得含混不清，但是他自己心中是明白的。对于这确实是“美和虔诚”，这确实是“最高级的生命综合体”，他不能怀疑，也不容许怀疑。在这种时刻他如做梦一般看见的是不是由大麻膏、鸦片或酒所引起的什么幻象、这种不正常的、不存在的幻象损害理智，扭曲灵魂。在病态状况结束后，他能正确地对此作出判断。这些瞬间恰恰仅仅是自我意识的非同一般的强化一一如果要用一个词来表达这种状态的话，那就是自我意识，同时也是最高级的直接的自我感受。如果在那一秒钟，也就是在发病前有意识的最后一刻，他还来得及清晰而自觉地对自己说：“是啊，为了这一瞬间是可以献出整个生命的。”，那么，这一瞬间本身当然是值全部生命的。不过，他并不坚持自己这一结论的辩证部分：神志不清、精神愚钝、麻木痴呆是这些“最高级瞬间”的明显的后果，当然，他不会认真地进行争论。在这个结论中，也就是在他对这一瞬间的评价中，毫无疑问，包含着错误，但是感受的真实性毕竟使他有点困惑。实际上对这种真实性又有什么办法呢？要知道这本身就是这样，他可是来得及就在那一瞬间自己对自己说，这一秒使他完全能感觉到无限的幸福，凭这一点，这一瞬间大概也是值整个生命的“在这一瞬间，”在莫斯科他与罗戈任经常碰头，有一次他对他说，“在这一日问我似乎明白了一句不平常的话：‘不再有时间。’”“大概，”他笑着补充说“这正是患癫癞的穆罕默德打翻了盛水的瓦罐、水还没来得及流淌的那一霎问，可是他却来得及在这一刹那一览无余地观察了安拉的住处。”是的，在莫斯科他经常跟罗戈任聚会，谈的也不只是这一点。“罗戈任刚才说，那时对他来说我即是他兄弟；今天他是第一次这么说，”公爵暗自思忖着。
他坐在夏园一棵树下的长椅上想着这件事。已经７点钟左右了。夏园里空荡荡的，夕阳有一瞬间被阴暗遮掩了，空气很是窒闷，就像预告遥远的下雨即将来临。此刻他这种沉思默想状态对他来说有某种诱惑。他的回忆和天智包含了外部的每一件事物，他也喜欢这样：他始终想忘掉什么真正的重要的事情，但只要看一眼自己周围，他马上就又意识到自己的阴暗的念头，他又非常想摆脱这种念头。他本来己回想起刚才在小饭馆里用餐时跟跑堂说起的不久前发生的异常奇特的杀人案，这件案子曾闹得满城风雨，流言四起。但是他刚一想起这件事，他又突然发生了某种特别的情况。
一种异常的不可抗拒的愿望，近乎是诱惑，突然使他的全部意志都麻木了。他从长倚上站起来，从夏园径直朝彼得堡岛方向走去。刚才在涅瓦河滨他曾请一位过路人隔着涅瓦河指给他看彼得堡岛的方向。人家指给他看了；但是当时他没有朝那里走。再说不论怎么样今天是不必要去了。他知道这一带地址他早就有了；他很容易就找到了列别杰夫亲戚家的屋子；但他几乎肯定地知道，他不会在家里碰上她。“她一定去帕夫洛夫斯克了，不然的话，照约定的办法，科利亚会在《天平旅馆》留下什么活的。”因此，如果他现在在，那么当然不是为了见到她，另一种阴暗的折磨人的好奇心诱惑着他。他的头脑里冒出一个新的突如其来的念头……
但是，对他来说，他开始走并且知道往何处走，这已经足够了！过了１分钟他又已经走路了，甚至几乎没有去注意自己走的哪条路，继续去想那如其来的念头，使他立即感到万分厌恶，甚至是不可能的。他带着折磨人的紧张的注意去观察映人眼帘的一切，仰望天空，俯视涅瓦河。他本想与遇到的一个小孩子讲话。大概，他那癫痫状态越来越严重了。雷雨好像真的临了，虽然来得很慢，远处的雷声已经开始滚来。空气变得非常窒闷……
不知为什么，现在他老是想起刚才见到的列别杰夫的外甥，就像有时想起缠绵不休、无聊到让人厌烦的曲调一样，奇怪的是，他老是把他想成别杰夫本人刚才向他介绍外甥时提到的那个杀人凶手的形象。确实，有关那个杀人犯的事他还是不久前在报上看到过报导。自从他来到俄国以后，他看到和听到过许多这一类事情，他也执著地注视着这一切。刚才他跟跑堂谈的也正是热马林一家破杀的案件，他甚至表现出过分强烈的兴趣。跑堂的同意他的看法，他记得这一点，他也想起了这个跑堂，这个小伙子并不蠢，稳重和谨慎，“不过，天知道他究竟是个什么样的人，在陌生的地方要看透陌生人是很困难的。”不过，他开始满怀热情地相信俄罗斯的心灵，呵，这六个夕中他经历了多多少少对他来说是完全新鲜的、始料不及的，闻所未闻的，出人意外的事啊！但是，知人知面不知心，俄罗斯的心灵也是深不可测的，对许多人来说是不可理解的。就说他与罗戈任吧，他们来往很久，交往甚密，“像兄弟般”相处，可是他了解罗戈任吗？其实，在这方面，在所有这一切中有时是多么乱，多么冗杂，多么纷坛呀！但是，方才列别杰夫的这个外甥又是个多么事事如意的坏东西！不过；我在干什么呀？（公爵继续遐想着）难道是他杀死了这几条命，这六个人？我似乎搞混了……这多么奇怪！我好累，有点头晕……列别杰夫的大女儿，就是抱着小孩站在那里的那个姑娘，一张多么讨人喜的可爱的脸蛋呀！多么天真无邪！几乎是孩子一般的表情，几乎是孩子一般的笑声！奇怪的是，他几乎忘记了这张脸，现在才想起它来。列别杰夫虽然朝他跺脚，大概，对他们一个个还是非常宠爱的。但最没有疑问的，就像二乘二等于四一佯，这便是列别杰夫也十分宠爱自己的外甥。
不过，干什么他要对他们做这样的最终审判，他今天初来乍到，干嘛要做这样的判决呢？是的，列别杰夫就给了他难堪：嘿，他料到列别杰夫是这样的吗？难道他过去了解列别杰夫是这样的，列别杰夫和杜巴里夫人，--我的天哪！不过，罗戈任如果要杀人。那么至少也不会这样胡乱杀人，不会弄得这么乱糟糟的，凶器是按图样定制的，把六个人完全置于死地！难道罗戈任有按图样定制的凶器……他有……但是……难道能断定罗戈任要杀人？公爵突然打了个寒颤。“我这样恬不知耻、毫无顾忌地做这样的猜测，岂不是犯罪行为，岂不是卑劣行径！”他失声呼叫起来，羞涩的红晕一下子涌上了他的颜面。他惊愕了，纹丝不动地站在路中。他一下子又想起了刚才经过的帕夫洛夫斯克车站和尼古拉耶夫车站，想起了向罗戈任当面直截了当提出的既睛的问题，想起了现在戴在他身上的罗戈任的十字架；想起了罗戈任亲自带他去见母亲以及她的祝福，想起了刚才在楼梯口罗戈任的最后一次神经质的拥抱和最后放弃纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜的声明。还想起了在这一切以后他发现自己在周围不断寻找着什么，想起了这家店铺，这件东西……这是多么卑鄙呀！这一切以后，现在他带昏“特别的目的”，特别的“意想不到的念头”正在走去！绝望和痛苦袭住了他的整个灵魂。公爵立即就想转身回自己的旅馆去，他甚至已经转过身去走了；但是过了１分钟他又停下来了，思考了一阵，又转回身朝原先的路走去。
他已经在彼得堡岛上了，离那幢屋子很近。但现在他去那里已经不是抱着原先的目的，不是带着“特别的念头”！刚才怎么会是这样！是啊，他的毛病正在复发，这是肯定无疑的；也许，今天就一定要发作。由于发病才有这精神上的愚钝黑暗，由于发病才有“念头”！现在黑暗已经消散，魔鬼已被驱除，怀疑已下存在，欢悦留在心问！还有，他已经很久没有见到她了，他需要见到她，还有……对了，他现在很希望能遇见罗戈任，他就会挽起他的手，他们就一起去……他的心地是纯洁的，难道他是罗戈任的情敌吗？明天他将自己去对罗戈任说，他看到她了，正如刚才罗戈任说的，他飞一般地赶到彼得堡来，就是为了见到她！也许，他真会遇上她，因为她不一走就在帕夫洛夫斯克！
是啊，应该在现在使这一切都摊明，使彼此都明白对方的全部心思，免得再有这些阴郁而又激狂的放弃声明，就像刚才罗戈任宣布放弃一样，要让这一切做得轻松畅快和……光明磊落，难道罗戈任就不能光明磊落？他说，他不像我那样爱她，他没有同情心，没有“丝毫这样的怜悯”。确实，他后来补充说，“也许，你的怜悯比我的爱情更强烈，”但他是在诽谤自己，嗯，罗戈任在读书，难道这不是“怜悯”，不是“怜悯”的开端、难道光有这本书还不能证明他是完全意识到自己对她的态度吗？还有他刚才讲的故事？不，这比光有情欲要深刻得多。难道她的脸只会激起情欲？再说这张脸现在难道能激起情欲、它只会唤起痛苦，’它Ｒ会令人揪心，它……一阵的痛、苦涩的回忆突然掠过公爵的心头。
是啊，是痛苦的回忆。他回想起，还是不久前，当他第一次发现她有失去理智的征兆时，他是多么痛苦。当时他几乎感到绝望了。当她那时从他这里逃到罗戈任那儿去时，他怎么能撇下她不管呢？他应该亲自去追她，而不是等消息，但是……难道到目前为止罗戈任还没有发觉她身上的疯狂？……嗯……罗戈任在所有的事情上看到的是别的原因，情欲的原因！他又有多么疯狂的嫉妒呀！不久前他做的推测又想说明什么呢？”公爵突然脸红了，仿佛有什么东西在他心间颤粟了一下。）
不过，回忆这个干什么？这件事上双方都有疯狂。而对于他公爵来说，若是以情欲去爱这个女人，几乎是不可思议的，几乎是残酷的、没有人性的。是个多么可怜的人，难道到那时他还不原谅她的全部过去，不记掉自己的所有的痛苦？滩道他不会成为她的奴仆、兄长、朋友、神明？同情会使罗戈任自己明白事理，会使他得到教育。同情是全人类生活的最主要的法则，也许，也是唯一的法宝贝！哦，他在罗戈任面前是有过错的，这是多么不可原谅，多么不光彩呵！不，不是“俄罗斯的心灵深不可测”，既然他能想象出这么可怕的情景，那也就是他自己的心灵深不可测。在莫斯科时就因为他讲了几句热情诚挚的话，罗戈任已经把他称为自己的兄弟，而他……但这是疾病和谑妄：这一切都会得到解释的！……刚才罗戈任多么深沉地说，他“正在失去信仰”。这个人一定十分痛苦。他说，“他喜欢看这幅画；而实际上并不喜欢，只是感到需要。”罗戈任光是一颗有情欲的灵魂，也毕竟是个斗士：他想努力恢复自己失去的信仰。现在他非常需要信仰，甚至到了万般痛苦的地步……是的，是应该信仰什么！是应该信仰什么！可是，霍尔拜因这幅画是多么奇怪呀……啊，就是这条街！大概，就是这幢房子，正是这样，十六号，《十级文官之妻费利索娃宅》，就在这里！公爵打了铃，询问纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜是否住这里。
这幢房屋的女主人亲自回答他说，纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜还是早晨就去帕夫洛夫斯克达里娅·阿列克谢耶夫娜家了，“甚至可能在那里留几天，费利索娃是个个子矮小、尖眼尖脸的女人，４０岁光景，看起人来既狡黯又专注。对于她问姓名（她似乎有意让这个问题带有神秘色彩），公爵起先不想回答，但马上回转来并坚决请求把他的名字转告给纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜。费利索娃接受了这一坚决的请求，并表现出一种常用心专注和异常神秘的样子，看来是想以此表明：“请放心，我明白了。”公爵的名字显然给他产生了强烈的印象。公爵心不在焉地瞥了她一眼，转过身，就回自己的旅馆去了。但是他从费利索娃家走出来时的神情已经不是打铃叫她时那种样子了，仿佛霎时间在他身上又发生了异常的变化：他走着，又变得脸色苍白，身体虚弱，内心痛苦，心情激动；他的双膝打着回，一丝淡淡的忧愁的微笑在他那发青的嘴唇上游移：他那“突如其来的念头”忽然得到了证实，并且证明是正确的，可是--他又相信自己的魔鬼了！”
但是真的得到证实了吗？真的证明是正确的吗？为什么他又会有这种打颤，这种冷汗，这种精神上的黑暗和冷漠？是因为他现在又看见这双眼睛了吗？但是，他从夏园到这儿来唯一的目的不正是为了见到这双眼睛吗？他的“突如其来的念头，不也正在于此吗？他执意想要看见这双“刚才见过的眼睛”是为了最终能确信，他一定会在这幢房子附近遇到这双眼睛。这是使他焦躁不安的愿望。，现在他真的见到了这双眼睛，又为什么这样压抑和震惊？仿佛完全出乎意料一般！是的，这正是那双眼睛（正是那双眼睛，这一点现在已经没有丝毫怀疑！），早晨当他从尼古拉耶夫斯卡亚铁路站下火车时，正是那双眼睛在人群中朝他闪了一下；后来，就刚才坐在罗戈任的椅子上时，他曾捕捉到自己肩后那一双眼睛的目光（绝对就是那双眼睛！）。罗戈任刚才否认了，他歪着嘴，冷冰冰地笑着问：“到底是谁的眼睛呢。”不久前在皇村车站上，当他坐进车厢要去阿格拉娅那里时，突然又看见了这双眼睛，这已经是这一天里的第三次了，公爵当时非常想走至罗戈任跟前，对他说，“这是谁的眼睛？”但他逃出了车站，只是当他站在刀剪铺前并对有鹿角柄的一件东西估价６０戈比那一会儿，他才神智清醒过来。奇怪和可怕的魔鬼终于缠住了他，已经再也不想离开他了。当他坐在夏园的菩提树下沉思遐想的时候，这个魔鬼对他悄声低语说，既然罗戈任从一早起就这样盯他的梢，每一步都不放过他，那么，当他知道他没有去帕夫洛夫斯克（当然，这对罗戈任来说已经是不幸的消息了），罗戈任一定会去那里，即彼得堡岛上的那所屋子，也一定会在那里伺守着他，而他在早晨还发誓说“不去见她”，“不是为了她才到彼得堡来的。”现在公爵却慌急慌忙地赶到那所屋子来，在那里他真的遇上了罗戈任又怎么样”？他看见的只是一个不幸的人，他心绪阴郁，但又很可以理解。这个不幸的人现在甚至不再躲躲闪闪。确实，罗戈任刚才不知为什么矢口抵赖和撒谎，但是在车站上他几乎不加躲闪地站在那里。倒不如说公爵他自己在躲藏，而不是罗戈任。现在他就站在街的另一面，距离５０步左右的斜对面人行道上，交叉着双手，在屋子旁等着。这一次他完全暴露无遗，而且好像故意想让人家看到似的。他站在那里就像个揭发者，像个法官，而不是……不是什么呢？
可是为什么公爵他自己现在不向罗戈任走去？虽然他们的目光相遇了，他又为什么似乎什么也没看见似的，转身离开他呢？（真的，他们的目光相遇了！他们还彼此望了一会。）刚才他自己不是还想挽着他的手，跟他一起去那里吗？他自己不是还想明天去他那里并对他说自己曾经在她那里吗？还在去那里的途中，当时欢悦突然充溢心间，他自己不是已经否决了自己的魔鬼了吗？要不，要罗戈任身上真的有什么东西，也就是说，在这个人今天的整个形象中，在他的言语、动作、行为、目光的整个总体中真有什么能证实公爵那可怕的预感和他的魔鬼所说的纷扰人的低语？有某种东西本身能被看见，但是很难分析和叙述，也不可能用充分的理由来解释，但是，尽管有这样的困难和不可能，它还是能产生十分完整和不可抗拒的强烈印象，这种印象不知不觉地转变为完全的确信，是什么东西呢？……
确信--什么呢？（哦，这种确信、“这种卑鄙的预感”的荒唐性、“侮辱性”使公爵多么痛苦，他又多么强烈地谴责自己！）“如果有勇气，你就说，到底确信什么？”他带着责备和挑战的心理不断对自己说，“说出来，勇于把自己的全部思想明白、确切、毫不犹豫地表达出来！哦，我真是个无耻的人！”他满脸红晕，忿忿地重复着，“现在我这辈于还能用什么眼睛去瞧这个人！哎，这算是什么样的一天！上帝啊，多么可怕呀！”
在从波得堡岛回去的这条漫长而痛苦道路快要走完的时候，曾经有一刻一种强烈的愿望忽然袭往了公爵：“马上到罗戈任那儿去，等到他，带着羞愧。眼泪拥抱他，告诉他”然后一下子了结一切。但是他已经站在自己住的旅馆面前了……刚才他是多么不喜欢这家旅馆，这些走廊，整个这幢房屋，他的房间，从看第一眼起就不喜欢；这一天里他怀着特别厌恶的心情曾经好几次想起必须回到这里来……“我这是怎么啦，像个生病的女人似的，今天对所有的预感都相信起来了！”他停在门口，以自嘲的态度生气地想。一阵难以忍受的新的羞愧感，几乎是绝望感涌上心头，使得他凝立在原地，就在大门口，他呆了一会儿。何时候人们常常是这样的：难以忍受的突如其来的回忆，特别是交织着羞愧的回忆，通常总会使入在原地停下来一会儿，“是的，我是个没有心肝的人，胆小鬼。”他阴郁地重夏说，急速地朝前走，但是……又停了下来……
大门里本来就幽暗，此刻更是黑乎乎的：即将来临的雷雨前的乌云吞噬了日暮时分的微明，就在公爵走近屋子的那一划，乌云突然散开了，下起了倾盆大雨。在他停了一会以后争促地离开原地这个时候，他正站在大门口，就在从街上进门的入口处。突然他在问洞的深处，在昏暗的通向楼梯口的地方，看见了一个人。这个人仿佛在等待什么，但是很快地闪现一下就消失了。公爵未能看清楚这个人，当然，怎么也不能肯定：他是什么人？何况这里过往的行人又这么多；这里是旅馆，不停地有人走出走进，在走廊里跑来跑去。但他忽然感到能够最充分地。不容反驳地确信：他认识这个人，而且这个人一定是罗戈任，过了一瞬间公爵便紧跟着他奔上楼梯。他的心都屏息不跳了。
“马上一切都会得到解决了！”带着一种奇怪的信念，他暗自说着。
公爵从大门口奔上去的楼梯通问一楼和二楼的走厩，旅馆的房间就设在这两层楼面上。正像所有年代久远建造的房屋一样，这座楼梯是石砌的，又窄又暗，绕着一根粗石柱盘旋而上。在楼梯第一个拐弯的平台处，这根石往上有一个像壁龛那样的凹进去的地方，一步宽，半步深，可是这里能容纳一个人，不论光线多么暗，公爵跑上平台后就分辨出，在这个壁龛里不知为什么有人躲在这里。公爵忽然想不朝右边看，就这么从旁边走过去，他已经跨出了一步，但克制不住，还是转过身来。
刚才那两只眼睛，就是那双眼睛，突然与他的目光相遇了。躲在壁龛里人也已经从里面跨出了一步。两个人面对面，几乎是紧贴着站了有一秒钟，公爵忽然抓住了他的肩膀，朝楼梯这边折回去，靠明处近些：他想看清楚这张脸。
罗戈任的眼睛闪闪发光，狂笑使他的脸都变了样。他的右手举了起来，手中什么东西亮晃晃闪了一下。公爵没有想去阻挡这只手。他只记得，他好像喊：
“帕尔芬，我不相信！……”
接着，仿佛有什么东西忽然在他面前裂开了：一股非同寻常的内心的光芒照亮了他的灵魂，这一瞬间持续了大概半秒种；但是他却清楚和有意识地记住了这开端，这可怕的号叫的第一声，它是自然而然地从胸中迸发出来，他用任何力量都无法遏止住。接着他的意识霎那间消失了，笼罩着一片漆黑。
他的癫痫病发作了，这病已有很久没有复发了。大家都知道，癫痫病，亦即是羊癫疯，是一瞬间突然发作的。在这一瞬间突然脸变得十分异样，特别是眼光。抽搐和痉挛遍及全身和面目五官。难以想象的、跟什么都不一样的可怕的号叫从胸口迸发出来；在这声号叫里似乎一切人性的东西都骤然消失了，旁观者无论怎样也不可能，至少是非常困难想象和假设，喊出这声音的就是眼前这个人。甚至使人觉得，仿佛在这个人的身体里面另外有一个什么人在喊叫。至少有许多人是这样说明自己的印象的，癫痫病人发作的样子引起许多人肯定无疑和难以忍受的恐怖，甚至还包含着某种神秘。应该推测到，那一刻突如其来的恐怖感觉再夹杂着所有其他可怕的印象猛地使罗戈任在原地怔住了，因而也就使公爵幸免于本来已经朝他戳下来的不可避免的一刀。罗戈任还没来得及想到这是癫痫发作，看到公爵身子离开他一晃，突然在楼梯上直挺挺仰面朝下倒去，后脑重重地撞在石级上，他就拼命朝下奔去，绕过躺着的病人，几乎丧魂落魄地逃出了旅馆。
抽搐、扭动、痉挛使病人的身体顺着不少于十五级的搂梯一直滚到楼梯末端。很快，不超过五分钟就有人发现了躺在地上的人，一群人围拢了来，一旁的一汪血引起人们的困惑：“是这个人自己撞破的，还是有人作了什么孽”，但是很快就有些人看出是羊癫疯；一名侍者认出公爵是刚来的住客。一个侥幸的情况终于使这一场慌乱解决得相当顺利。
原来允诺四点钟左右回到《天平旅馆》、结果却去了帕夫洛夫斯克的科利亚·伊沃尔京突发了一个念头，因此没有在叶潘钦将军夫人那里“用饭”而回到了彼得堡，并急匆匆赶往《天平旅馆》，到那里时已是晚上七点钟左右根据留给他的字条，他知道公爵在城里，于是急忙向字条里告知的地址赶紧找他，在旅馆里他了解到公爵出去了，就到下面小吃部，一边喝茶听管风琴一边等待。偶然听到人家谈论有人羊癫疯发作，他凭准确的预感奔向出事地点，便认出了公爵。立即就采取了必要的措施。人们把公爵抬到他的房间里，他虽然已经醒了过来，可是相当长时间都不能完全恢复意识。被请来检查面部损伤的医生给他作了湿敷并告知，碰伤没有丝毫危险。过了一小时，当公爵已经非常清楚地明白身边发生的一切时，科利亚就用马车把他从旅馆转送到列别杰夫那儿去。列别杰夫以非凡的热情和恭敬接待了病人。为了公爵，他还加快了搬去别墅的准备：第三天所有的人已经在帕夫洛夫斯克了。
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 22楼  发表于: 2014-01-17 0

Part 2 Chapter 6
LEBEDEFF'S country-house was not large, but it was pretty and convenient, especially the part which was let to the prince.
A row of orange and lemon trees and jasmines, planted in green tubs, stood on the fairly wide terrace. According to Lebedeff, these trees gave the house a most delightful aspect. Some were there when he bought it, and he was so charmed with the effect that he promptly added to their number. When the tubs containing these plants arrived at the villa and were set in their places, Lebedeff kept running into the street to enjoy the view of the house, and every time he did so the rent to be demanded from the future tenant went up with a bound.
This country villa pleased the prince very much in his state of physical and mental exhaustion. On the day that they left for Pavlofsk, that is the day after his attack, he appeared almost well, though in reality he felt very far from it. The faces of those around him for the last three days had made a pleasant impression. He was pleased to see, not only Colia, who had become his inseparable companion, but Lebedeff himself and all the family, except the nephew, who had left the house. He was also glad to receive a visit from General Ivolgin, before leaving St. Petersburg.
It was getting late when the party arrived at Pavlofsk, but several people called to see the prince, and assembled in the verandah. Gania was the first to arrive. He had grown so pale and thin that the prince could hardly recognize him. Then came Varia and Ptitsin, who were rusticating in the neighbourhood. As to General Ivolgin, he scarcely budged from Lebedeff's house, and seemed to have moved to Pavlofsk with him. Lebedeff did his best to keep Ardalion Alexandrovitch by him, and to prevent him from invading the prince's quarters. He chatted with him confidentially, so that they might have been taken for old friends. During those three days the prince had noticed that they frequently held long conversations; he often heard their voices raised in argument on deep and learned subjects, which evidently pleased Lebedeff. He seemed as if he could not do without the general. But it was not only Ardalion Alexandrovitch whom Lebedeff kept out of the prince's way. Since they had come to the villa, he treated his own family the same. Upon the pretext that his tenant needed quiet, he kept him almost in isolation, and Muishkin protested in vain against this excess of zeal. Lebedeff stamped his feet at his daughters and drove them away if they attempted to join the prince on the terrace; not even Vera was excepted.
"They will lose all respect if they are allowed to be so free and easy; besides it is not proper for them," he declared at last, in answer to a direct question from the prince.
"Why on earth not?" asked the latter. "Really, you know, you are making yourself a nuisance, by keeping guard over me like this. I get bored all by myself; I have told you so over and over again, and you get on my nerves more than ever by waving your hands and creeping in and out in the mysterious way you do."
It was a fact that Lebedeff, though he was so anxious to keep everyone else from disturbing the patient, was continually in and out of the prince's room himself. He invariably began by opening the door a crack and peering in to see if the prince was there, or if he had escaped; then he would creep softly up to the arm- chair, sometimes making Muishkin jump by his sudden appearance. He always asked if the patient wanted anything, and when the latter replied that he only wanted to be left in peace, he would turn away obediently and make for the door on tip-toe, with deprecatory gestures to imply that he had only just looked in, that he would not speak a word, and would go away and not intrude again; which did not prevent him from reappearing in ten minutes or a quarter of an hour. Colia had free access to the prince, at which Lebedeff was quite disgusted and indignant. He would listen at the door for half an hour at a time while the two were talking. Colia found this out, and naturally told the prince of his discovery.
"Do you think yourself my master, that you try to keep me under lock and key like this?" said the prince to Lebedeff. "In the country, at least, I intend to be free, and you may make up your mind that I mean to see whom I like, and go where I please."
"Why, of course," replied the clerk, gesticulating with his hands.
The prince looked him sternly up and down.
"Well, Lukian Timofeyovitch, have you brought the little cupboard that you had at the head of your bed with you here?"
"No, I left it where it was."
"Impossible!"
"It cannot be moved; you would have to pull the wall down, it is so firmly fixed."
"Perhaps you have one like it here?"
"I have one that is even better, much better; that is really why I bought this house."
"Ah! What visitor did you turn away from my door, about an hour ago?"
"The-the general. I would not let him in; there is no need for him to visit you, prince... I have the deepest esteem for him, he is a--a great man. You don't believe it? Well, you will see, and yet, most excellent prince, you had much better not receive him."
"May I ask why? and also why you walk about on tiptoe and always seem as if you were going to whisper a secret in my ear whenever you come near me?"
"I am vile, vile; I know it!" cried Lebedeff, beating his breast with a contrite air. "But will not the general be too hospitable for you?"
"Too hospitable?"
"Yes. First, he proposes to come and live in my house. Well and good; but he sticks at nothing; he immediately makes himself one of the family. We have talked over our respective relations several times, and discovered that we are connected by marriage. It seems also that you are a sort of nephew on his mother's side; he was explaining it to me again only yesterday. If you are his nephew, it follows that I must also be a relation of yours, most excellent prince. Never mind about that, it is only a foible; but just now he assured me that all his life, from the day he was made an ensign to the 11th of last June, he has entertained at least two hundred guests at his table every day. Finally, he went so far as to say that they never rose from the table; they dined, supped, and had tea, for fifteen hours at a stretch. This went on for thirty years without a break; there was barely time to change the table-cloth; directly one person left, another took his place. On feast-days he entertained as many as three hundred guests, and they numbered seven hundred on the thousandth anniversary of the foundation of the Russian Empire. It amounts to a passion with him; it makes one uneasy to hear of it. It is terrible to have to entertain people who do things on such a scale. That is why I wonder whether such a man is not too hospitable for you and me."
"But you seem to be on the best of terms with him?"
"Quite fraternal--I look upon it as a joke. Let us be brothers- in-law, it is all the same to me,--rather an honour than not. But in spite of the two hundred guests and the thousandth anniversary of the Russian Empire, I can see that he is a very remarkable man. I am quite sincere. You said just now that I always looked as if I was going to tell you a secret; you are right. I have a secret to tell you: a certain person has just let me know that she is very anxious for a secret interview with you."
"Why should it be secret? Not at all; I will call on her myself tomorrow."
"No, oh no!" cried Lebedeff, waving his arms; "if she is afraid, it is not for the reason you think. By the way, do you know that the monster comes every day to inquire after your health?"
"You call him a monster so often that it makes me suspicious."
"You must have no suspicions, none whatever," said Lebedeff quickly. "I only want you to know that the person in question is not afraid of him, but of something quite, quite different."
"What on earth is she afraid of, then? Tell me plainly, without any more beating about the bush," said the prince, exasperated by the other's mysterious grimaces.
"Ah that is the secret," said Lebedeff, with a smile.
"Whose secret?"
"Yours. You forbade me yourself to mention it before you, most excellent prince," murmured Lebedeff. Then, satisfied that he had worked up Muishkin's curiosity to the highest pitch, he added abruptly: "She is afraid of Aglaya Ivanovna."
The prince frowned for a moment in silence, and then said suddenly:
"Really, Lebedeff, I must leave your house. Where are Gavrila Ardalionovitch and the Ptitsins? Are they here? Have you chased them away, too?"
"They are coming, they are coming; and the general as well. I will open all the doors; I will call all my daughters, all of them, this very minute," said Lebedeff in a low voice, thoroughly frightened, and waving his hands as he ran from door to door.
At that moment Colia appeared on the terrace; he announced that Lizabetha Prokofievna and her three daughters were close behind him.
Moved by this news, Lebedeff hurried up to the prince.
"Shall I call the Ptitsins, and Gavrila Ardalionovitch? Shall I let the general in?" he asked.
"Why not? Let in anyone who wants to see me. I assure you, Lebedeff, you have misunderstood my position from the very first; you have been wrong all along. I have not the slightest reason to hide myself from anyone," replied the prince gaily.
Seeing him laugh, Lebedeff thought fit to laugh also, and though much agitated his satisfaction was quite visible.
Colia was right; the Epanchin ladies were only a few steps behind him. As they approached the terrace other visitors appeared from Lebedeff's side of the house-the Ptitsins, Gania, and Ardalion Alexandrovitch.
The Epanchins had only just heard of the prince's illness and of his presence in Pavlofsk, from Colia; and up to this time had been in a state of considerable bewilderment about him. The general brought the prince's card down from town, and Mrs. Epanchin had felt convinced that he himself would follow his card at once; she was much excited.
In vain the girls assured her that a man who had not written for six months would not be in such a dreadful hurry, and that probably he had enough to do in town without needing to bustle down to Pavlofsk to see them. Their mother was quite angry at the very idea of such a thing, and announced her absolute conviction that he would turn up the next day at latest.
So next day the prince was expected all the morning, and at dinner, tea, and supper; and when he did not appear in the evening, Mrs. Epanchin quarrelled with everyone in the house, finding plenty of pretexts without so much as mentioning the prince's name.
On the third day there was no talk of him at all, until Aglaya remarked at dinner: "Mamma is cross because the prince hasn't turned up," to which the general replied that it was not his fault.
Mrs. Epanchin misunderstood the observation, and rising from her place she left the room in majestic wrath. In the evening, however, Colia came with the story of the prince's adventures, so far as he knew them. Mrs. Epanchin was triumphant; although Colia had to listen to a long lecture. "He idles about here the whole day long, one can't get rid of him; and then when he is wanted he does not come. He might have sent a line if he did not wish to inconvenience himself."
At the words "one can't get rid of him," Colia was very angry, and nearly flew into a rage; but he resolved to be quiet for the time and show his resentment later. If the words had been less offensive he might have forgiven them, so pleased was he to see Lizabetha Prokofievna worried and anxious about the prince's illness.
She would have insisted on sending to Petersburg at once, for a certain great medical celebrity; but her daughters dissuaded her, though they were not willing to stay behind when she at once prepared to go and visit the invalid. Aglaya, however, suggested that it was a little unceremonious to go en masse to see him.
"Very well then, stay at home," said Mrs. Epanchin, and a good thing too, for Evgenie Pavlovitch is coming down and there will be no one at home to receive him."
Of course, after this, Aglaya went with the rest. In fact, she had never had the slightest intention of doing otherwise.
Prince S., who was in the house, was requested to escort the ladies. He had been much interested when he first heard of the prince from the Epanchins. It appeared that they had known one another before, and had spent some time together in a little provincial town three months ago. Prince S. had greatly taken to him, and was delighted with the opportunity of meeting him again,
The general had not come down from town as yet, nor had Evgenie Pavlovitch arrived.
It was not more than two or three hundred yards from the Epanchins' house to Lebedeff's. The first disagreeable impression experienced by Mrs. Epanchin was to find the prince surrounded by a whole assembly of other guests--not to mention the fact that some of those present were particularly detestable in her eyes. The next annoying circumstance was when an apparently strong and healthy young fellow, well dressed, and smiling, came forward to meet her on the terrace, instead of the half-dying unfortunate whom she had expected to see.
She was astonished and vexed, and her disappointment pleased Colia immensely. Of course he could have undeceived her before she started, but the mischievous boy had been careful not to do that, foreseeing the probably laughable disgust that she would experience when she found her dear friend, the prince, in good health. Colia was indelicate enough to voice the delight he felt at his success in managing to annoy Lizabetha Prokofievna, with whom, in spite of their really amicable relations, he was constantly sparring.
"Just wait a while, my boy!" said she; "don't be too certain of your triumph." And she sat down heavily, in the arm-chair pushed forward by the prince.
Lebedeff, Ptitsin, and General Ivolgin hastened to find chairs for the young ladies. Varia greeted them joyfully, and they exchanged confidences in ecstatic whispers.
"I must admit, prince, I was a little put out to see you up and about like this--I expected to find you in bed; but I give you my word, I was only annoyed for an instant, before I collected my thoughts properly. I am always wiser on second thoughts, and I dare say you are the same. I assure you I am as glad to see you well as though you were my own son,--yes, and more; and if you don't believe me the more shame to you, and it's not my fault. But that spiteful boy delights in playing all sorts of tricks. You are his patron, it seems. Well, I warn you that one fine morning I shall deprive myself of the pleasure of his further acquaintance."
"What have I done wrong now?" cried Colia. "What was the good of telling you that the prince was nearly well again? You would not have believed me; it was so much more interesting to picture him on his death-bed."
"How long do you remain here, prince?" asked Madame Epanchin.
"All the summer, and perhaps longer."
"You are alone, aren't you,--not married?"
"No, I'm not married!" replied the prince, smiling at the ingenuousness of this little feeler.
"Oh, you needn't laugh! These things do happen, you know! Now then--why didn't you come to us? We have a wing quite empty. But just as you like, of course. Do you lease it from HIM?--this fellow, I mean," she added, nodding towards Lebedeff. "And why does he always wriggle so?"
At that moment Vera, carrying the baby in her arms as usual, came out of the house, on to the terrace. Lebedeff kept fidgeting among the chairs, and did not seem to know what to do with himself, though he had no intention of going away. He no sooner caught sight of his daughter, than he rushed in her direction, waving his arms to keep her away; he even forgot himself so far as to stamp his foot.
"Is he mad?" asked Madame Epanchin suddenly.
"No, he ..."
"Perhaps he is drunk? Your company is rather peculiar," she added, with a glance at the other guests....
"But what a pretty girl! Who is she?"
"That is Lebedeff's daughter--Vera Lukianovna."
"Indeed? She looks very sweet. I should like to make her acquaintance."
The words were hardly out of her mouth, when Lebedeff dragged Vera forward, in order to present her.
"Orphans, poor orphans!" he began in a pathetic voice.
"The child she carries is an orphan, too. She is Vera's sister, my daughter Luboff. The day this babe was born, six weeks ago, my wife died, by the will of God Almighty. ... Yes... Vera takes her mother's place, though she is but her sister... nothing more ... nothing more..."
"And you! You are nothing more than a fool, if you'll excuse me! Well! well! you know that yourself, I expect," said the lady indignantly.
Lebedeff bowed low. "It is the truth," he replied, with extreme respect.
"Oh, Mr. Lebedeff, I am told you lecture on the Apocalypse. Is it true?" asked Aglaya.
"Yes, that is so ... for the last fifteen years."
"I have heard of you, and I think read of you in the newspapers."
"No, that was another commentator, whom the papers named. He is dead, however, and I have taken his place," said the other, much delighted.
"We are neighbours, so will you be so kind as to come over one day and explain the Apocalypse to me?" said Aglaya. "I do not understand it in the least."
"Allow me to warn you," interposed General Ivolgin, that he is the greatest charlatan on earth." He had taken the chair next to the girl, and was impatient to begin talking. "No doubt there are pleasures and amusements peculiar to the country," he continued, "and to listen to a pretended student holding forth on the book of the Revelations may be as good as any other. It may even be original. But ... you seem to be looking at me with some surprise--may I introduce myself--General Ivolgin--I carried you in my arms as a baby--"
"Delighted, I'm sure," said Aglaya; "I am acquainted with Varvara Ardalionovna and Nina Alexandrovna." She was trying hard to restrain herself from laughing.
Mrs. Epanchin flushed up; some accumulation of spleen in her suddenly needed an outlet. She could not bear this General Ivolgin whom she had once known, long ago--in society.
"You are deviating from the truth, sir, as usual!" she remarked, boiling over with indignation; "you never carried her in your life!"
"You have forgotten, mother," said Aglaya, suddenly. "He really did carry me about,--in Tver, you know. I was six years old, I remember. He made me a bow and arrow, and I shot a pigeon. Don't you remember shooting a pigeon, you and I, one day?"
"Yes, and he made me a cardboard helmet, and a little wooden sword--I remember!" said Adelaida.
"Yes, I remember too!" said Alexandra. "You quarrelled about the wounded pigeon, and Adelaida was put in the corner, and stood there with her helmet and sword and all."
The poor general had merely made the remark about having carried Aglaya in his arms because he always did so begin a conversation with young people. But it happened that this time he had really hit upon the truth, though he had himself entirely forgotten the fact. But when Adelaida and Aglaya recalled the episode of the pigeon, his mind became filled with memories, and it is impossible to describe how this poor old man, usually half drunk, was moved by the recollection.
"I remember--I remember it all!" he cried. "I was captain then. You were such a lovely little thing--Nina Alexandrovna!--Gania, listen! I was received then by General Epanchin."
"Yes, and look what you have come to now!" interrupted Mrs. Epanchin. "However, I see you have not quite drunk your better feelings away. But you've broken your wife's heart, sir--and instead of looking after your children, you have spent your time in public-houses and debtors' prisons! Go away, my friend, stand in some corner and weep, and bemoan your fallen dignity, and perhaps God will forgive you yet! Go, go! I'm serious! There's nothing so favourable for repentance as to think of the past with feelings of remorse!"
There was no need to repeat that she was serious. The general, like all drunkards, was extremely emotional and easily touched by recollections of his better days. He rose and walked quietly to the door, so meekly that Mrs. Epanchin was instantly sorry for him.
"Ardalion Alexandrovitch," she cried after him, "wait a moment, we are all sinners! When you feel that your conscience reproaches you a little less, come over to me and we'll have a talk about the past! I dare say I am fifty times more of a sinner than you are! And now go, go, good-bye, you had better not stay here!" she added, in alarm, as he turned as though to come back.
"Don't go after him just now, Colia, or he'll be vexed, and the benefit of this moment will be lost!" said the prince, as the boy was hurrying out of the room.
"Quite true! Much better to go in half an hour or so said Mrs. Epanchin.
"That's what comes of telling the truth for once in one's life!" said Lebedeff. "It reduced him to tears."
"Come, come! the less YOU say about it the better--to judge from all I have heard about you!" replied Mrs. Epanchin.
The prince took the first opportunity of informing the Epanchin ladies that he had intended to pay them a visit that day, if they had not themselves come this afternoon, and Lizabetha Prokofievna replied that she hoped he would still do so.
By this time some of the visitors had disappeared.
Ptitsin had tactfully retreated to Lebedeff's wing; and Gania soon followed him.
The latter had behaved modestly, but with dignity, on this occasion of his first meeting with the Epanchins since the rupture. Twice Mrs. Epanchin had deliberately examined him from head to foot; but he had stood fire without flinching. He was certainly much changed, as anyone could see who had not met him for some time; and this fact seemed to afford Aglaya a good deal of satisfaction.
"That was Gavrila Ardalionovitch, who just went out, wasn't it?" she asked suddenly, interrupting somebody else's conversation to make the remark.
"Yes, it was," said the prince.
"I hardly knew him; he is much changed, and for the better!"
"I am very glad," said the prince.
"He has been very ill," added Varia.
"How has he changed for the better?" asked Mrs. Epanchin. "I don't see any change for the better! What's better in him? Where did you get THAT idea from? WHAT'S better?"
"There's nothing better than the 'poor knight'!" said Colia, who was standing near the last speaker's chair.
"I quite agree with you there!" said Prince S., laughing.
"So do I," said Adelaida, solemnly.
"WHAT poor knight?" asked Mrs. Epanchin, looking round at the face of each of the speakers in turn. Seeing, however, that Aglaya was blushing, she added, angrily:
"What nonsense you are all talking! What do you mean by poor knight?"
"It's not the first time this urchin, your favourite, has shown his impudence by twisting other people's words," said Aglaya, haughtily.
Every time that Aglaya showed temper (and this was very often), there was so much childish pouting, such "school-girlishness," as it were, in her apparent wrath, that it was impossible to avoid smiling at her, to her own unutterable indignation. On these occasions she would say, "How can they, how DARE they laugh at me?"
This time everyone laughed at her, her sisters, Prince S., Prince Muishkin (though he himself had flushed for some reason), and Colia. Aglaya was dreadfully indignant, and looked twice as pretty in her wrath.
"He's always twisting round what one says," she cried.
"I am only repeating your own exclamation!" said Colia. "A month ago you were turning over the pages of your Don Quixote, and suddenly called out 'there is nothing better than the poor knight.' I don't know whom you were referring to, of course, whether to Don Quixote, or Evgenie Pavlovitch, or someone else, but you certainly said these words, and afterwards there was a long conversation . . . "
"You are inclined to go a little too far, my good boy, with your guesses," said Mrs. Epanchin, with some show of annoyance.
"But it's not I alone," cried Colia. "They all talked about it, and they do still. Why, just now Prince S. and Adelaida Ivanovna declared that they upheld 'the poor knight'; so evidently there does exist a 'poor knight'; and if it were not for Adelaida Ivanovna, we should have known long ago who the 'poor knight' was."
"Why, how am I to blame?" asked Adelaida, smiling.
"You wouldn't draw his portrait for us, that's why you are to blame! Aglaya Ivanovna asked you to draw his portrait, and gave you the whole subject of the picture. She invented it herself; and you wouldn't."
"What was I to draw? According to the lines she quoted:
"'From his face he never lifted That eternal mask of steel.'"
"What sort of a face was I to draw? I couldn't draw a mask."
"I don't know what you are driving at; what mask do you mean?" said Mrs. Epanchin, irritably. She began to see pretty clearly though what it meant, and whom they referred to by the generally accepted title of "poor knight." But what specially annoyed her was that the prince was looking so uncomfortable, and blushing like a ten-year-old child.
"Well, have you finished your silly joke?" she added, and am I to be told what this 'poor knight' means, or is it a solemn secret which cannot be approached lightly?"
But they all laughed on.
"It's simply that there is a Russian poem," began Prince S., evidently anxious to change the conversation, "a strange thing, without beginning or end, and all about a 'poor knight.' A month or so ago, we were all talking and laughing, and looking up a subject for one of Adelaida's pictures--you know it is the principal business of this family to find subjects for Adelaida's pictures. Well, we happened upon this 'poor knight.' I don't remember who thought of it first--"
"Oh! Aglaya Ivanovna did," said Colia.
"Very likely--I don't recollect," continued Prince S.
"Some of us laughed at the subject; some liked it; but she declared that, in order to make a picture of the gentleman, she must first see his face. We then began to think over all our friends' faces to see if any of them would do, and none suited us, and so the matter stood; that's all. I don't know why Nicolai Ardalionovitch has brought up the joke now. What was appropriate and funny then, has quite lost all interest by this time."
"Probably there's some new silliness about it," said Mrs. Epanchin, sarcastically.
"There is no silliness about it at all--only the profoundest respect," said Aglaya, very seriously. She had quite recovered her temper; in fact, from certain signs, it was fair to conclude that she was delighted to see this joke going so far; and a careful observer might have remarked that her satisfaction dated from the moment when the fact of the prince's confusion became apparent to all.
"'Profoundest respect!' What nonsense! First, insane giggling, and then, all of a sudden, a display of 'profoundest respect.' Why respect? Tell me at once, why have you suddenly developed this 'profound respect,' eh?"
"Because," replied Aglaya gravely, "in the poem the knight is described as a man capable of living up to an ideal all his life. That sort of thing is not to be found every day among the men of our times. In the poem it is not stated exactly what the ideal was, but it was evidently some vision, some revelation of pure Beauty, and the knight wore round his neck, instead of a scarf, a rosary. A device--A. N. B.--the meaning of which is not explained, was inscribed on his shield--"
"No, A. N. D.," corrected Colia.
"I say A. N. B., and so it shall be!" cried Aglaya, irritably. "Anyway, the 'poor knight' did not care what his lady was, or what she did. He had chosen his ideal, and he was bound to serve her, and break lances for her, and acknowledge her as the ideal of pure Beauty, whatever she might say or do afterwards. If she had taken to stealing, he would have championed her just the same. I think the poet desired to embody in this one picture the whole spirit of medieval chivalry and the platonic love of a pure and high-souled knight. Of course it's all an ideal, and in the 'poor knight' that spirit reached the utmost limit of asceticism. He is a Don Quixote, only serious and not comical. I used not to understand him, and laughed at him, but now I love the 'poor knight,' and respect his actions."
So ended Aglaya; and, to look at her, it was difficult, indeed, to judge whether she was joking or in earnest.
"Pooh! he was a fool, and his actions were the actions of a fool," said Mrs. Epanchin; "and as for you, young woman, you ought to know better. At all events, you are not to talk like that again. What poem is it? Recite it! I want to hear this poem! I have hated poetry all my life. Prince, you must excuse this nonsense. We neither of us like this sort of thing! Be patient!"
They certainly were put out, both of them.
The prince tried to say something, but he was too confused, and could not get his words out. Aglaya, who had taken such liberties in her little speech, was the only person present, perhaps, who was not in the least embarrassed. She seemed, in fact, quite pleased.
She now rose solemnly from her seat, walked to the centre of the terrace, and stood in front of the prince's chair. All looked on with some surprise, and Prince S. and her sisters with feelings of decided alarm, to see what new frolic she was up to; it had gone quite far enough already, they thought. But Aglaya evidently thoroughly enjoyed the affectation and ceremony with which she was introducing her recitation of the poem.
Mrs. Epanchin was just wondering whether she would not forbid the performance after all, when, at the very moment that Aglaya commenced her declamation, two new guests, both talking loudly, entered from the street. The new arrivals were General Epanchin and a young man.
Their entrance caused some slight commotion.

列别杰夫的别墅并不大，但是舒适，甚至漂亮。用作出租的那一部分特别作了装饰。在相当宽敞的露台上，就在从外面走进房间的地方，放着好些个绿色大木桶，里面栽着香橙、柠檬、茉莉树，按照列别杰夫的设想，这应构成最具魅力的景观。有些树是连同别墅一起买下的，它们摆在露台上所产生的效果使列别杰夫甚为赞赏，因而，当凑巧在拍卖市场也有这些栽在木梧里的树时，他就下决心买下来与原有的配套。当终于将所有的树都运到别墅和布置好的那一天，列别杰夫好几次下露台台阶跑到街上，然后从街上欣赏自己的房产，每一次他都在思想里增加着准备向未来租住别墅的房客索要的房租。虚弱无力、内心苦闷，身体受伤的公爵很喜欢别墅。其实，在搬到帕夫洛夫斯克的那一天，也就是他的病发作后的第三天，从外表来看，公爵已经和健康人的样子差不多了，虽然内心里仍觉得自己还没有康复。他对这三天里在自己身边见到的所有的人都感到高兴，他喜欢寸步不离他的科利亚，喜欢列别杰夫一家人（他的外甥不在，不知到哪儿去了），他也喜欢列别杰夫本人；甚至还高兴地接待了还在城里时就拜访过他的伊沃尔京将军。在搬来的那一天，已经近傍晚了，在他周围许多客人聚集在露台上：第一个来的是加尼亚，公爵几乎认不出他了--这段时间里他变得很厉害，人也瘦了许多。接着是瓦里娅和普季岑，他们也住在帕夫洛夫斯克住别墅。伊沃尔京将军几乎常住在列别杰夫家里，甚至好像是跟他一起搬过来的。列别杰夫竭力不让他到公爵那儿去，让他呆在自己屋里；他像好朋友一样对待将军，看来他们早就已经熟识了。公爵发现，这三天里他们有时候彼此进行了长谈，常常大声嚷嚷着，甚至好像是为一些学术问题而争论不休，而这却似乎使列别杰夫感到满足、可以想到，他甚至需要将军这个人，但是从一搬到别墅起他就对全家采取了像对公爵那样的防范措施：他借口不要打扰公爵，不放任何人到公爵那儿去，他对自己的女儿们，也包括抱着婴儿的维拉，只要一有怀疑他们要走到公爵所在的露台上去，便对她们又是跺脚，又去追奔，又是驱赶。尽管公爵一再请求不要赶走任何人。
“第一，如果这样放纵她，就一点也没有恭敬的态度了；第二，对她们来说甚至也有失体统……”对于公爵直截了当的洁间，他终于做了解释。
“为什么呢？”公爵感到很内疚，“真的，您这一切监视和守护只会折磨我。我一个人感到很寂寞．我对您说过好几次了，而您自己不停地挥手和踞着脚走来走去更使我感到烦闷。”
公爵指的是，虽然在病人需要静养的借口下赶开了所有家里的人，可是列别杰夫自己在这三天里差不多一刻不停地走到公爵这里来，每次先是打开门，探进个头来，环顾着房间，就像想确信，公爵是否在这里？有没有逃走？然后就踞着脚，悄悄地慢慢地走近扶手椅，因而往往无意中吓着自己的房客。他不断地询问，公爵是否需要什么，当公爵终于向他指出，请他别打扰他时，他就顺从地、默默无言地转过身，踞着脚向问口移步，一边走一边连连挥手，仿佛是要人知道，他仅仅如此而已，他一句话也没有说，他马上就走出去，而且不再来了，可是过了十分钟或者至多一刻钟便又出现了。科利亚有进公爵房里去的自由，这一点使列别杰夫深为伤感，甚至颇为见怪和忿忿不平。利利亚注意到，他经常在门口站上半小时，偷听他和公爵的谈话，当然他把这件事告诉了公爵。
“您简直就把我据为已有，把我锁了起来，”公爵表示反对说，“至少在别墅我想不要这样子，请您放心，我将爱见准就见谁，想去哪儿就去哪儿。”
“这丝毫不成问题，”列别杰夫挥手说道。
公爵把他从头到脚专注地打量了一番。
“鲁基扬·季莫菲耶维奇，您是否把吊在您床头的一个小柜搬到这儿来了？”
“没有，没搬来。”
“难道就把它留在那儿了？”
“不好搬，要把它从墙里拔出来……嵌得很牢很牢。”
“也许，这里也有这样的吊柜？”
“甚至更好，甚至更好，是和别墅一起买下来的。”
“啊……啊，您刚才不让谁到我这儿来？一小时以前。”
“这是……这是将军。确实没让他进来，他也不该到您这儿来。公爵，我对这个人怀着深深的敬意，这是个……这是个了不起的人物您不相信吗，好吧，您以后就会知道的，可是反正……尊敬的公爵，您最好还是不要在自己这儿接待他。”
“请问，这是为什么？还有，列别杰夫，您现在为什么要踞着脚站着，老是走近我跟前，就像想在我耳边告诉什么秘密似的。”
“我卑贱，我卑贱，我自己也感觉到，”列别杰夫很动感情地捶着自己的胸脯，突然回答说，“对您来说，将军是不是太好客了。”
“太好客。”
“是太好客，第一，他已经打算注我这里，这倒也随他去，他还很好激动，马上攀起亲戚来了。我跟他已经算过好几次亲戚，原来我们还是自家人。您也原来是他的表外甥呢，还是昨天他才向我讲清楚。既然您是他的表外甥，这么说，尊敬的公爵，我和您也成了亲戚，这也没什么，是他的小毛病，但是他刚才要入相信，他这一生，从当准尉开始到去年６月１１日，每天他家里坐下来吃饭的人总不少十二百人，最后竟把话说到这样：这些人甚至都不站起来了，就这样吃了中饭吃晚饭，再喝茶，”昼夜１５个小时坐在餐桌旁，三十年连续不断，没有丝毫问歇，几乎连换台布的时间也没有，一个起身走了，另一个则来了，而在假日和皇家节日时来者达三百人。俄罗斯建立千年纪念日那天他统计了，竟有七百人。这可真是不得了！这样的情况是很糟糕的迹象；要接待这样好客的人简直可怕，所以我才想：对于您和我来说，这样的人是不是太好客了。”
“但是，您和他好像关系挺不错嘛？”
“像兄弟一般，是闹着玩的，就算是自家人，对我来说只会更光彩。通过二百个人吃饭和俄罗斯千年纪念的事，我甚至看出他是个非常出色的人，我这是说的真心话，公爵，您刚才说到秘密，也就是，说我走近来似乎想告诉什么秘密。就像故意似的，倒也真的有秘密：那位知名人物刚才表示，很想跟您秘密会面一次。”
“为什么要秘密呢，绝不需要。我自己到她那里去，哪怕是今天就去。”
“绝对不行，绝对不行，”列别杰夫连连挥起手来，”她怕的并不是您所想的事。顺便告诉您：那个恶棍简直是每天都来探询您的健廉状况，您知道吗？”
“您好像常常称他是恶棍，对此我很表怀疑。”
“您不用任何怀疑的，”不用的，”列别杰夫赶快把话盆开，“我只想说明，那位知名人物怕的不是他而完全是另一个人，完全是另一个人。”
“到底怕什么，快说！”公爵望着装模作样，故作神秘的列别杰夫，不耐烦地问道。
“秘密就在这里。”
列别杰夫窃笑了一下。
“准的秘密。”
“您的秘密，尊敬的公爵，您自己禁止我在您面前说……”列别杰夫嘟哝着说，他把公爵的好奇心逗到近乎病态的难以忍耐的程度，以此而感到一种满足，末了突然说，“她怕阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜。”
公爵皱了一下眉头，沉默了一会儿。
“说真的，列别杰夫，我要放弃住您的别墅，”他突然说，“加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇和普季岑夫妇在哪里？您把他们也招引来了。”
“马上就到，马上就到。紧跟着他们甚至将军也要来。我要把所有的门都打开，把所有的女儿部叫来，马上叫来，马上统统都叫来，”列别杰夫惊慌地低语着，一边不停地挥动双手，从一扇问奔向另一扇门。
就在这时科利亚来到了露台，他是从外面进来的，并且宣布，他后面要有客人来，是叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜及其三个女儿。
“让不让普季岑夫妇和加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇进来？让不让将军进来？”列别杰夫听到消息大为惊讶，急急跑近来问。
“为什么不？让所有愿意来的人都进来！列别杰夫，请您相信，您好像一开始就没有正确理解我的态度；您总是不断地犯错误。我没有丝毫缘由要隐藏和躲避谁，”公爵笑着说。
看着公爵笑，列别杰夫认为有义务跟着他笑。尽管他异常激动不安，但仍然看得出非常满意。
科利亚报告的消息是正确的，他赶在叶潘钦家的人前面仅仅早到几步，以便通知她们来到，因此客人们一。下子就从两面出现了，叶潘钦家的人从露台上来，普季岑夫妇、加尼亚和伊沃尔京将军从房间里来。
叶潘钦家知道公爵发病和他在帕夫洛夫斯克，是刚从科利亚那里获悉的，在这以前将军夫人还在苦恼和困惑。前天将军把公爵的名片带给了家里人，这张名片激发起叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜绝对的信心，认为公爵本人一定会在这张名片之后来彼得堡与他们见面。小姐们则要她相信，一个半年没有写信的人，也许，现在也远远不会这么急于来见他们，大概，没有他们他在彼得堡也有够多忙碌的事，准知道呢？可是这些劝说是白费口舌。将军夫人对于这些意见大力生气并准备打赌，认为公爵至少第二天一定会来，虽然“这已经是姗姗来迟了”。第二天她等了一上午；等他来吃午餐，又等他到傍晚。当天色已经完全黑下来时，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜对什么都大发脾气，跟谁都大吵一通，当然，在吵架原因上根本不提公爵。整个第三天也只字不提他。阿格拉娅在用午餐时无意间脱口说，妈妈生气是因为公爵没有来，对此将军立即指出，“他在这件事可没有错，”---叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜马上站起身，忿忿地从桌旁走开了。终于，傍晚时分科利亚来了，带来了所有的消息，还描述了他所知道的公爵的全部遭遇，结果叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜高兴极了，但是不管怎么样，科利亚还是被很狠地数落了一通，“要不整天整天在这儿转悠，赶也赶不走，可这一回，即使你自己决定不来，哪怕告诉你也好。”科利亚本来真想为“赶也赶不走”这句话生气，但是他还是把这句话搁到一旁再说，要不是这句活太叫人见怪，他也许也就不计较了，因为叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜在获悉公爵发病的消息时所表现出来的激动不安，他还是喜欢的，她很长时间坚持必须马上派专人去彼得堡，请某个一流名医乘第一趟火车赶来。但是女儿们劝阻了她，不过，当母亲一叫她又打算去探望病人时，她们也不甘落后。
“他生命垂危，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜一边忙乱着一边说，“可你们还在这里讲究礼仪！他是不是我们家的朋友？”
“未知深浅，且莫涉水，”阿格拉娅刚开始发表意见。
“那好吧，你就别去了，甚至这样还很好，不然，叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇来了，没人接待他。”
有了这儿句话，阿格拉娅当然立即跟着大家走了，其实，即使没有这句话她也是打算要去的。坐在阿杰莱达旁边的ω公爵应她的请求马上就同意让她去。还是以前他开始结识叶潘钦家人的时候，听他们说起公爵，他就表示出异常的兴趣。原来他认识公爵，他还是不久前结识的，还一起在某个城住过两个星期。这大约是三个月前的事。ω公爵甚至讲了许多有关公爵的情况，总的来说他对公爵相当好感，因此现在由衷地高兴去探望老相识。伊万·费奥多罗维奇将军这次不在家。叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇也还没有来。
从叶潘钦家至列别杰夫的别墅不超过三百步，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲夫娜到公爵这儿，第一个不愉快的印象便是在他周围遇见了一大群客人，已经不用说，在这一群人中有二三个人是她十分痛恨的；第二则是惊讶，因为她看到向她们迎面走来的是个乍看起来完全是健康的年轻人，而不是她意想中会见到的躺在病榻上生命垂危的人，而且他衣着讲究，笑容可掬。她甚至茫然不知所措地停住了。科利亚非常满足。当然，在将军夫人尚未从自已别墅动身的时候，他本可以解释清楚，没有谁奄奄一息，也没有人生命垂危，但是他没作解释，他狡猾地预感到，将军夫人看到自己诚挚的朋友身体健康，一定会大发脾气，会可笑地气忿难平。科利亚甚至很不客气他说出了自己的猜测，想要惹恼叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜；尽管他与将军夫人存在着友谊，但他还是常常招惹挖苦她。
“等一等，亲爱的，别急，别扫了自己的兴！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲夫娜回答说，一边坐到公爵为她摆好的扶手椅上。
列别杰夫，普季岑，伊沃尔京将军急忙奔过去为小姐们搬椅子。将军为阿格拉娅搬了椅子，列别杰夫也给ω公爵摆了椅子，与此同时弯着腰以表示其异常恭敬的态度，瓦里娅像通常那样欣喜而又低声地与小姐们打了招呼。
“公爵，我真的以为大概会看见你躺在床上，是因为害怕才在想象中夸大了，我现在也决不撒谎，看着你一脸喜气洋洋的样子，我反而气恼得要命，但是我向你起誓，这不过是没有来得及好好思考前另。一会儿的情绪。一经思考，我说话做事总是更聪明些，我想你也是这样。说真的，假如我有亲生儿子，也许对他身体康复还不会像见到你恢复健康这样高兴；如果你对此不相信我，那么你应该感到羞愧，而不是我。而这个恶小子跟我还不只是这样闹着玩。好像你是庇护他的，那么我警告你，总有一天我会更乐意放弃与他结交的荣幸请相信我的话。”
“我又什么地方得罪您了？”科利亚嚷起来说，“无论我说了多少回要您才信，公爵几乎已经恢复健康，您却不愿相信，因为您设想他生命垂危躺在听床上，这会有意思得多。”
“到我们这儿来住多久？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜转向公爵说。
“整个夏天，也许更长些。”
“你还是一个人？没有结婚？”
“没有，没有结婚，”公爵对她这种幼稚的挖苦话付之一笑。
“这没什么好笑的，这是常有的事。现在我说别墅，为什么不搬到我们那儿去住？我们有整间厢房是空着的，不过，随你便。你现在是租他的住吗？这个人，”她朝列别杰夫那儿点了下头，低声追问道，“他干吗老是做鬼脸？”
这时维拉像通常一样抱着孩子从房间里走到露台上来。列别杰夫在椅子旁点头哈腰张罗，同时却不知道干什么是好，但又极不愿意离开，这时便转向维拉，朝她连连挥手，赶她离开露台，甚至忘了场台，连连跺脚。
“他疯了吗？”突然将军夫人补充问。
“不，他……”
“也许是喝醉了？你的伙伴可不怎么样，”她的目光扫视了其余的客人后断然说，“不过，姑娘却多么可爱呀！她是谁？”
“这是维拉·鲁基扬诺夫娜。这个列别杰夫的女儿。”
“啊！……非常可爱。我想跟她认识一下。”
但是，列别杰夫听到了叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜的夸赞，自己己拖着女儿过来介绍了。
“孤儿，全是孤儿！”他走到跟前，有气无力地凄然说，“她抱着的这个孩子也是孤儿，是她的妹妹，叫柳鲍芙，完全是合法婚生的，我那刚去世的妻子叶列娜六个月前死于分娩，这是上帝的旨意……是啊……虽然她只是姐姐，可就得代替母亲照料妹妹了，她不过是姐姐……不过是……不过是……”
“而你这个当爹的不过是个傻瓜，对不起。好，够了，我想你自己也明白。”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜突然异常气愤地断然说。
“千真万确。”列别杰夫恭敬地深深鞠了一躬。
“听着，列别杰夫先生，有人说你在阐释《启示录》，是真的吗？”阿格拉娅问。
“千真万确……第十五个年头了。”
“我听说过你的事。好像还在报上刊载过有关您的报道，是吗？”
“不，这是讲的另一个人，是另一个人，那人已经死了，而在他之后就剩下我了，”列别杰夫得意忘形地说。
“看在邻居的份上，劳驾您近日内什么时候给我讲讲，我一点也不懂《启示录》。”
“我不能不提醒您，阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜，这一切在他来说纯粹是招摇撞骗，请相信我，”伊沃尔京突然很快地插进来说。他千方百计想怎么开口讲话，等得焦急，如坐针毡；现在他在阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜身旁坐下。“当然，住别墅的人有自己的权利，”他继续说道，“也有自己的乐趣，接受这么一位不同寻常的因特鲁斯来阐释《启示录》也未尝不是一种娱乐，跟别的娱乐一样，甚至还是绝妙的智力游戏，但是我……您望着我好像很惊讶？我很荣幸向您作自我介绍--伊沃尔京将军。我还曾经抱过您呢，阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜。”
“见到您非常高兴。我认识瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜和尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜，”阿格拉娅竭力克制自己不要放声大笑出来，低声咕哝着说。
叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜发火了。早就蓄积在心中的怒气突然要求宣泄。她无法忍受伊沃尔京将军，她过去认识他，但已是很久前的事了。
“你在胡说，老爷，这是家常便饭了，你从来也没有抱过她，”她忿忿然不客气地对他说。
“妈妈，您忘了，他真的抱过我，在特维尔，”阿格拉娅忽然证实说，“我们那时住在特维尔。我当时六岁，我记得。他给我做了弓和箭，教我射箭，我还射死了一只鸽子。您记得吗，我和您一起射死鸽子的事？”
“当时他给我带来了硬板纸做的头盔和木剑，我还记得！”阿杰莱达喊了起来。
“我也记得这一点，”亚历山德拉证实说，“你们那时还为了受伤的鸽子而吵嘴，结果被分开罚站墙角，阿杰莱达就戴着头盔、拿着木剑站着。”
＊因待鲁斯，此处原为法语俄译音，意力“冒名者”。
将军对阿格拉娅声称，他曾经抱过她，他之所以这么说，只是为了开始谈话，也仅仅是因为他跟所有的年轻人攀谈几乎总是这样开始的，如果他认为有必要跟他们结识。可是这一次，仿佛故意似的，他说的恰恰是真话，又仿佛故意似的，他自己又偏偏忘了这一件事。因此，当阿格拉娅此刻忽然证实，她与他两人一起射死了鸽子时，他的记忆一下子豁然大悟，自己也回忆起所有这一切乃至细枝未节，已是暮年的人回忆起遥远过去的某件往事往往是这样的。很难表述这种回忆对这个可怜的，通常带着几分醉意的将军产生多么强烈的作用，但是他终究猛然大受感动。
“我记得，全部记得！”他喊了起来说，“我当时是上尉。您是这么一丁点儿小，非常讨人喜欢。尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜……加尼亚……。我常到你们家……去作客。伊万·费奥多罗维奇……”
“瞧你，你现在都落到什么地步了！”将军夫人接过话茬说，“既然你这么受感动，这么说，你到底还没有把自己的高尚感情都喝光！把妻子折磨苦了。本该给孩子们作出表率，可你却坐进监狱，老爷，从这儿走开吧，随便走到哪儿，站到门背后角落里去哭一通，回忆一下自己清白的过去，也许上帝会宽恕你，去吧，去吧，我对你可是说正经的。改邪归正的最好办法莫过于带着追悔的心情回忆过去。”
但是无须重复说对他说的是正经话。正像所有经常醉醉醇的人一样，将军非常容易动感情，又像所有堕落太甚的酒鬼那样，不那么容易承受得注对昔日幸福的回忆。他站起身，温顺地向门边走去，以致叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜马上又可怜起他来。
“阿尔达利翁·亚历山德雷奇，老爷！”她冲着他背后喊了一“声，“停一下；我们大家都是有罪过的人，等你感到自己较少受到良心责备时，再到我这儿来，我们一起坐一会，聊聊过去。也许，我自己的罪孽比起你来要深重五十倍；而现在再见吧，走吧，这儿没你的事……”她忽然害怕他又回转来。
“您暂时最好别跟着他，”公爵制止了本已跟在父亲后面跑去的科利亚说，“不然，这一会儿他就会懊恼起来，一切便前功尽弃了。”
“这倒是真的，别去碰他，过半小时再去，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜决定了说。
“瞧，一生中哪怕说一次真话有多大意义，竟感动得流泪。”列别杰夫壮着胆子插话说。
“如果我听到的都属实的话，那么你这个爷们大概也是个好样的，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫赐马上就止住了他。
聚集在公爵这里的所有客人之间的相互关系渐渐地确定了下来。公爵自然能够认识并且也已经认识到将军夫人及其女儿们对他的十分关切，当然也诚挚地对她们说，在他们来拜访前，他自己就打算，尽管自己有病，时间又已经晚了，今天可一定要到她们那里去。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜瞥了一眼公爵的客人，回答说，就现在也可以这样做。普季岑为人很有礼貌也很知趣，很快便起身告退，到列别杰夫的厢房去，而且也很想把列别杰夫本人一起引走。列别杰夫应允马上就来；此时瓦里娅在跟小姐们在交谈，因此留了下来。她和加尼亚对自己的将军父亲离开感到相当高兴；加尼亚自己后来也很快地跟在普季岑后面走了。在露台上逗留的那一会儿，虽然叶潘钦家的人在场，他举止谦恭温顺又不失尊严，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜两次将他从头到脚打量个遍，他也丝毫没有因为她那咄咄逼人的目光而显得不知所措，确实，过去了解他的人会想，他变了许多。阿格拉娅很喜欢这种变化。
“这是加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇出去了吗？、她突然问。她有时候喜欢这样做，用自己的问题大声、生硬地打断别人的谈话，同时又不是向哪个个人提问。
“是他，”公爵回答说。
“我差点没认出他来，他变了许多……变好得多了。”
“我很为他高兴。”公爵说。
“他大病了一场，”瓦里娅怀着欢悦和同情补充说。
“哪一点上他变好了？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜几乎大为惊吓和困惑不解，怒冲冲地问着，“哪来的根据？丝毫也没有变好。你觉得他究竟什么变好了？”
“再没有比‘可怜的骑士，更好的了！”科利亚一直站在叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜的椅子旁，这时却突然宣称说。
“我自己也这么想，”出公爵说完，笑了起来。
“我完全赞同这个意见，”阿杰莱达郑重宣布。
“什么‘可怜的骑士，？”将军夫人问，一边困惑和烦恼地打量着所有说话的人，当她看见阿格拉娅满脸通红时，生气地补充说，“简直是胡说八道！什么‘可怜的骑士’？”
“你宠爱的这个男孩难道是第一次歪曲别人的话吗？”阿格拉娅傲慢而愤怒。
阿格拉娅每次发怒的时候（而她经常发怒）尽管正言厉色、毫不容情，但也几乎每次都流露出还有点孩子气的、不耐烦的学生样，并且掩饰得也不高明，因此别人瞧着她，有时不能不发笑，这又使她异常恼火：因为她不明白人家笑什么，“他们怎么能，怎么敢笑，”现在连姐姐们，因公爵也在笑，甚至列夫·尼古拉耶维奇公爵本人也莞尔一笑、也不知为什么涨红了脸。科利亚哈哈大笑，得意非凡。阿格拉娅这回生气可不是闹着玩的，这倒反而使她变得格外妩媚动人了。她的窘态对她非常相称，于是随即她又为自己这种窘态而暗自着恼。
“他歪曲您的活还少吗，”她又添了一句。
“我是以您自己的赞叹为根据的！”科利亚嚷了起来，“一个月前您翻阅《堂·吉诃德》时发出了这样的感叹，说再没有比‘可怜的骑士，更好的了。’我不知道您那时说的是谁？是堂·吉诃德还是叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇，或者还有什么人，反正是说的某个人，当时我们还交谈了很久……”
“我看，你妄自猜测是不是大多了点，亲爱的。”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜烦恼地阻止了他说下去。
“难道仅仅是我一个人这么想吗？”科利亚不甘闭口不言，“那时大家都这么说，就是现在也是；就刚才出公爵，阿杰莱达·伊万诺夫娜，还有所有的人都宣布支持 ‘可怜的骑士’，这么说‘可怜的骑士，是存在的，而且也一定是有的，据我看，要不是阿杰莱达·伊万诺夫娜，那么我们大家早就会知道，谁是‘可怜的骑士了’。”
“我又哪里做错了？”阿杰莱达笑着说。
“您不愿意画肖像，这就是您的错！阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜当时请您画一幅‘可怜的骑士’的肖像画，甚至还说了她自己构思的画的袁材，您记得那素材吗？您不愿意……”
“可是叫我怎么画呢？画谁呢？根据素材来画，这位‘可怜的骑士’
无论在谁的面前
都不除去钢面罩
这样能得出一张什么样的脸呢？画什么？面罩吗？蒙面人？”
“我一点也不明白，什么面罩！”将军夫人很生气，其实她心里开始很清楚地明白，“可怜的骑士”这个称号指的是谁（看来，这是早就约定的称呼）。但是特别使她恼火的是，列夫·尼古拉耶维奇公爵也在不好意思，后来完全窘得像个１０岁的孩子，“怎么啦，这种愚蠢的把戏有完没完？到底给不给我讲清楚这个‘可怜的骑士’是怎么回事？是不得了的秘密，绝不能让别人知道还是怎么的？”
但大家只是继续笑着。
“这是最简单不过的，有一首奇怪的俄罗斯诗歌，”终于出公爵插进来说，显然他想尽快了结这场谈话，改换一个话题，“是关于‘可怜的骑士，的，没有开端和结尾的一个片断。一个月前光景，有一次午餐后大家在一起说笑，照例为阿杰莱达·伊万诺夫娜未来的画寻找素材，您知道，为阿杰莱达·伊万诺夫娜的画寻找素材早日成为全家的共同任务了。于是就谈到了‘可怜的骑士’，谁是第一个说的，我不记得了……”
“是阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜！”科利亚嚷了起来。
“也许是，只不过我不记得了，” 公爵继续说，“有的人嘲笑这个素材，另一些人则宜称，没有比这更高级的了，但是要画‘可怜的骑士’无论怎样总得要画脸，于是便开始逐个挑选所有熟人的脸，结果却一张也不合适，事情也就到此为止。这就是全部经过。我不明白，为什么尼古拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇忽然想起来提这件事而且还加以引伸。这在当时是顺便说起，很可笑，而在现在则根本没有什么意思了。”
“因为又有了另有所指的愚蠢的新花招，既刻薄又欺人，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜毫不客气地说。
“除了深深的敬意，没有丝毫愚蠢，”突然阿格拉娅完全出人意料地郑重而又严肃地说，她已经恢复常态，克服了刚才窘迫的神态。不但如此，你看着她，根据某些迹象可以认为，现在她自己也乐意这玩笑开下去，越开越玄妙。她身上发生这一转折的瞬间，正是公爵窘态毕露而且越来越厉害，达到非常明显的地步。
“一会儿像个疯子似的放声大笑，一会又突然表示深深的敬意！真是疯了！为什么要尊敬？马上给我说，为什么你无缘无故忽然就有了深深的敬意。”
“之所以有深深的敬意，”阿格拉娅依然那样郑重和严肃地回答母亲，那几乎是充满愤恨的问题，“是因为在这首诗里就描写了一个有理想的人；其次，既然确立了理想，就会把它作为信仰，而有了信仰，就会不顾一切地把自己的一生奉献给它。在我们这个时代这是不常有的。在这首诗里没有说‘可怜的骑士’的理想究竟是什么，但可以看得出，这是一个光明的形象，‘纯洁的美的形象’，而热衷于自己信仰的骑士脖子上不是系着围巾而是挂着念珠。确实，那诗里还有一句令人费解、同意未尽的箴言，他写在自己盾牌上的三个字母：Ａ，Ｈ。Ｂ……”
“是Ａ，Ｈ，贝，”科利亚纠正说。
“可我说是Ａ。Ｈ。Ｂ，而且我愿意这样讲，”阿格拉娅烦恼地打断他说，“不论怎么样，有一点是很清楚的：不论他的女士是什么人，也不管她做什么事，对这个可怜的骑士来说都无所谓。
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 23楼  发表于: 2014-01-17 0

Part 2 Chapter 7
THE young fellow accompanying the general was about twenty-eight, tall, and well built, with a handsome and clever face, and bright black eyes, full of fun and intelligence.
Aglaya did not so much as glance at the new arrivals, but went on with her recitation, gazing at the prince the while in an affected manner, and at him alone. It was clear to him that she was doing all this with some special object.
But the new guests at least somewhat eased his strained and uncomfortable position. Seeing them approaching, he rose from his chair, and nodding amicably to the general, signed to him not to interrupt the recitation. He then got behind his chair, and stood there with his left hand resting on the back of it. Thanks to this change of position, he was able to listen to the ballad with far less embarrassment than before. Mrs. Epanchin had also twice motioned to the new arrivals to be quiet, and stay where they were.
The prince was much interested in the young man who had just entered. He easily concluded that this was Evgenie Pavlovitch Radomski, of whom he had already heard mention several times. He was puzzled, however, by the young man's plain clothes, for he had always heard of Evgenie Pavlovitch as a military man. An ironical smile played on Evgenie's lips all the while the recitation was proceeding, which showed that he, too, was probably in the secret of the 'poor knight' joke. But it had become quite a different matter with Aglaya. All the affectation of manner which she had displayed at the beginning disappeared as the ballad proceeded. She spoke the lines in so serious and exalted a manner, and with so much taste, that she even seemed to justify the exaggerated solemnity with which she had stepped forward. It was impossible to discern in her now anything but a deep feeling for the spirit of the poem which she had undertaken to interpret.
Her eyes were aglow with inspiration, and a slight tremor of rapture passed over her lovely features once or twice. She continued to recite:
"Once there came a vision glorious, Mystic, dreadful, wondrous fair; Burned itself into his spirit, And abode for ever there!
"Never more--from that sweet moment-- Gazed he on womankind; He was dumb to love and wooing And to all their graces blind.
"Full of love for that sweet vision, Brave and pure he took the field; With his blood he stained the letters N. P. B. upon his shield.
"'Lumen caeli, sancta Rosa!' Shouting on the foe he fell, And like thunder rang his war-cry O'er the cowering infidel.
"Then within his distant castle, Home returned, he dreamed his days- Silent, sad,--and when death took him He was mad, the legend says."
When recalling all this afterwards the prince could not for the life of him understand how to reconcile the beautiful, sincere, pure nature of the girl with the irony of this jest. That it was a jest there was no doubt whatever; he knew that well enough, and had good reason, too, for his conviction; for during her recitation of the ballad Aglaya had deliberately changed the letters A. N. B. into N. P. B. He was quite sure she had not done this by accident, and that his ears had not deceived him. At all events her performance--which was a joke, of course, if rather a crude one,--was premeditated. They had evidently talked (and laughed) over the 'poor knight' for more than a month.
Yet Aglaya had brought out these letters N. P. B. not only without the slightest appearance of irony, or even any particular accentuation, but with so even and unbroken an appearance of seriousness that assuredly anyone might have supposed that these initials were the original ones written in the ballad. The thing made an uncomfortable impression upon the prince. Of course Mrs. Epanchin saw nothing either in the change of initials or in the insinuation embodied therein. General Epanchin only knew that there was a recitation of verses going on, and took no further interest in the matter. Of the rest of the audience, many had understood the allusion and wondered both at the daring of the lady and at the motive underlying it, but tried to show no sign of their feelings. But Evgenie Pavlovitch (as the prince was ready to wager) both comprehended and tried his best to show that he comprehended; his smile was too mocking to leave any doubt on that point.
"How beautiful that is!" cried Mrs. Epanchin, with sincere admiration. "Whose is it? '
"Pushkin's, mama, of course! Don't disgrace us all by showing your ignorance," said Adelaida.
"As soon as we reach home give it to me to read."
"I don't think we have a copy of Pushkin in the house."
"There are a couple of torn volumes somewhere; they have been lying about from time immemorial," added Alexandra.
"Send Feodor or Alexey up by the very first train to buy a copy, then.--Aglaya, come here--kiss me, dear, you recited beautifully! but," she added in a whisper, "if you were sincere I am sorry for you. If it was a joke, I do not approve of the feelings which prompted you to do it, and in any case you would have done far better not to recite it at all. Do you understand?--Now come along, young woman; we've sat here too long. I'll speak to you about this another time."
Meanwhile the prince took the opportunity of greeting General Epanchin, and the general introduced Evgenie Pavlovitch to him.
"I caught him up on the way to your house," explained the general. "He had heard that we were all here."
"Yes, and I heard that you were here, too," added Evgenie Pavlovitch; "and since I had long promised myself the pleasure of seeking not only your acquaintance but your friendship, I did not wish to waste time, but came straight on. I am sorry to hear that you are unwell."
"Oh, but I'm quite well now, thank you, and very glad to make your acquaintance. Prince S. has often spoken to me about you," said Muishkin, and for an instant the two men looked intently into one another's eyes.
The prince remarked that Evgenie Pavlovitch's plain clothes had evidently made a great impression upon the company present, so much so that all other interests seemed to be effaced before this surprising fact.
His change of dress was evidently a matter of some importance. Adelaida and Alexandra poured out a stream of questions; Prince S., a relative of the young man, appeared annoyed; and Ivan Fedorovitch quite excited. Aglaya alone was not interested. She merely looked closely at Evgenie for a minute, curious perhaps as to whether civil or military clothes became him best, then turned away and paid no more attention to him or his costume. Lizabetha Prokofievna asked no questions, but it was clear that she was uneasy, and the prince fancied that Evgenie was not in her good graces.
"He has astonished me," said Ivan Fedorovitch. "I nearly fell down with surprise. I could hardly believe my eyes when I met him in Petersburg just now. Why this haste? That's what I want to know. He has always said himself that there is no need to break windows."
Evgenie Pavlovitch remarked here that he had spoken of his intention of leaving the service long ago. He had, however, always made more or less of a joke about it, so no one had taken him seriously. For that matter he joked about everything, and his friends never knew what to believe, especially if he did not wish them to understand him.
"I have only retired for a time," said he, laughing. "For a few months; at most for a year."
"But there is no necessity for you to retire at all," complained the general, "as far as I know."
"I want to go and look after my country estates. You advised me to do that yourself," was the reply. "And then I wish to go abroad."
After a few more expostulations, the conversation drifted into other channels, but the prince, who had been an attentive listener, thought all this excitement about so small a matter very curious. "There must be more in it than appears," he said to himself.
"I see the 'poor knight' has come on the scene again," said Evgenie Pavlovitch, stepping to Aglaya's side.
To the amazement of the prince, who overheard the remark, Aglaya looked haughtily and inquiringly at the questioner, as though she would give him to know, once for all, that there could be no talk between them about the 'poor knight,' and that she did not understand his question.
"But not now! It is too late to send to town for a Pushkin now. It is much too late, I say!" Colia was exclaiming in a loud voice. "I have told you so at least a hundred times."
"Yes, it is really much too late to send to town now," said Evgenie Pavlovitch, who had escaped from Aglaya as rapidly as possible. "I am sure the shops are shut in Petersburg; it is past eight o'clock," he added, looking at his watch.
"We have done without him so far," interrupted Adelaida in her turn. "Surely we can wait until to-morrow."
"Besides," said Colia, "it is quite unusual, almost improper, for people in our position to take any interest in literature. Ask Evgenie Pavlovitch if I am not right. It is much more fashionable to drive a waggonette with red wheels."
"You got that from some magazine, Colia," remarked Adelaida.
"He gets most of his conversation in that way," laughed Evgenie Pavlovitch. "He borrows whole phrases from the reviews. I have long had the pleasure of knowing both Nicholai Ardalionovitch and his conversational methods, but this time he was not repeating something he had read; he was alluding, no doubt, to my yellow waggonette, which has, or had, red wheels. But I have exchanged it, so you are rather behind the times, Colia."
The prince had been listening attentively to Radomski's words, and thought his manner very pleasant. When Colia chaffed him about his waggonette he had replied with perfect equality and in a friendly fashion. This pleased Muishkin.
At this moment Vera came up to Lizabetha Prokofievna, carrying several large and beautifully bound books, apparently quite new.
"What is it?" demanded the lady.
"This is Pushkin," replied the girl. "Papa told me to offer it to you."
"What? Impossible!" exclaimed Mrs. Epanchin.
"Not as a present, not as a present! I should not have taken the liberty," said Lebedeff, appearing suddenly from behind his daughter. "It is our own Pushkin, our family copy, Annenkoff's edition; it could not be bought now. I beg to suggest, with great respect, that your excellency should buy it, and thus quench the noble literary thirst which is consuming you at this moment," he concluded grandiloquently.
"Oh! if you will sell it, very good--and thank you. You shall not be a loser! But for goodness' sake, don't twist about like that, sir! I have heard of you; they tell me you are a very learned person. We must have a talk one of these days. You will bring me the books yourself?"
"With the greatest respect ... and ... and veneration," replied Lebedeff, making extraordinary grimaces.
"Well, bring them, with or without respect, provided always you do not drop them on the way; but on the condition," went on the lady, looking full at him, "that you do not cross my threshold. I do not intend to receive you today. You may send your daughter Vera at once, if you like. I am much pleased with her."
"Why don't you tell him about them?" said Vera impatiently to her father. "They will come in, whether you announce them or not, and they are beginning to make a row. Lef Nicolaievitch,"--she addressed herself to the prince--"four men are here asking for you. They have waited some time, and are beginning to make a fuss, and papa will not bring them in."
"Who are these people?" said the prince.
"They say that they have come on business, and they are the kind of men, who, if you do not see them here, will follow you about the street. It would be better to receive them, and then you will get rid of them. Gavrila Ardalionovitch and Ptitsin are both there, trying to make them hear reason."
"Pavlicheff's son! It is not worth while!" cried Lebedeff. "There is no necessity to see them, and it would be most unpleasant for your excellency. They do not deserve ..."
"What? Pavlicheff's son!" cried the prince, much perturbed. "I know ... I know--but I entrusted this matter to Gavrila Ardalionovitch. He told me ..."
At that moment Gania, accompanied by Ptitsin, came out to the terrace. From an adjoining room came a noise of angry voices, and General Ivolgin, in loud tones, seemed to be trying to shout them down. Colia rushed off at once to investigate the cause of the uproar.
"This is most interesting!" observed Evgenie Pavlovitch.
"I expect he knows all about it!" thought the prince.
"What, the son of Pavlicheff? And who may this son of Pavlicheff be?" asked General Epanchin with surprise; and looking curiously around him, he discovered that he alone had no clue to the mystery. Expectation and suspense were on every face, with the exception of that of the prince, who stood gravely wondering how an affair so entirely personal could have awakened such lively and widespread interest in so short a time.
Aglaya went up to him with a peculiarly serious look
"It will be well," she said, "if you put an end to this affair yourself AT ONCE: but you must allow us to be your witnesses. They want to throw mud at you, prince, and you must be triumphantly vindicated. I give you joy beforehand!"
"And I also wish for justice to be done, once for all," cried Madame Epanchin, "about this impudent claim. Deal with them promptly, prince, and don't spare them! I am sick of hearing about the affair, and many a quarrel I have had in your cause. But I confess I am anxious to see what happens, so do make them come out here, and we will remain. You have heard people talking about it, no doubt?" she added, turning to Prince S.
"Of course," said he. "I have heard it spoken about at your house, and I am anxious to see these young men!"
"They are Nihilists, are they not?"
"No, they are not Nihilists," explained Lebedeff, who seemed much excited. "This is another lot--a special group. According to my nephew they are more advanced even than the Nihilists. You are quite wrong, excellency, if you think that your presence will intimidate them; nothing intimidates them. Educated men, learned men even, are to be found among Nihilists; these go further, in that they are men of action. The movement is, properly speaking, a derivative from Nihilism--though they are only known indirectly, and by hearsay, for they never advertise their doings in the papers. They go straight to the point. For them, it is not a question of showing that Pushkin is stupid, or that Russia must be torn in pieces. No; but if they have a great desire for anything, they believe they have a right to get it even at the cost of the lives, say, of eight persons. They are checked by no obstacles. In fact, prince, I should not advise you ..."
But Muishkin had risen, and was on his way to open the door for his visitors.
"You are slandering them, Lebedeff," said he, smiling.
"You are always thinking about your nephew's conduct. Don't believe him, Lizabetha Prokofievna. I can assure you Gorsky and Daniloff are exceptions--and that these are only ... mistaken. However, I do not care about receiving them here, in public. Excuse me, Lizabetha Prokofievna. They are coming, and you can see them, and then I will take them away. Please come in, gentlemen!"
Another thought tormented him: He wondered was this an arranged business--arranged to happen when he had guests in his house, and in anticipation of his humiliation rather than of his triumph? But he reproached himself bitterly for such a thought, and felt as if he should die of shame if it were discovered. When his new visitors appeared, he was quite ready to believe himself infinitely less to be respected than any of them.
Four persons entered, led by General Ivolgin, in a state of great excitement, and talking eloquently.
"He is for me, undoubtedly!" thought the prince, with a smile. Colia also had joined the party, and was talking with animation to Hippolyte, who listened with a jeering smile on his lips.
The prince begged the visitors to sit down. They were all so young that it made the proceedings seem even more extraordinary. Ivan Fedorovitch, who really understood nothing of what was going on, felt indignant at the sight of these youths, and would have interfered in some way had it not been for the extreme interest shown by his wife in the affair. He therefore remained, partly through curiosity, partly through good-nature, hoping that his presence might be of some use. But the bow with which General Ivolgin greeted him irritated him anew; he frowned, and decided to be absolutely silent.
As to the rest, one was a man of thirty, the retired officer, now a boxer, who had been with Rogojin, and in his happier days had given fifteen roubles at a time to beggars. Evidently he had joined the others as a comrade to give them moral, and if necessary material, support. The man who had been spoken of as "Pavlicheff's son," although he gave the name of Antip Burdovsky, was about twenty-two years of age, fair, thin and rather tall. He was remarkable for the poverty, not to say uncleanliness, of his personal appearance: the sleeves of his overcoat were greasy; his dirty waistcoat, buttoned up to his neck, showed not a trace of linen; a filthy black silk scarf, twisted till it resembled a cord, was round his neck, and his hands were unwashed. He looked round with an air of insolent effrontery. His face, covered with pimples, was neither thoughtful nor even contemptuous; it wore an expression of complacent satisfaction in demanding his rights and in being an aggrieved party. His voice trembled, and he spoke so fast, and with such stammerings, that he might have been taken for a foreigner, though the purest Russian blood ran in his veins. Lebedeff's nephew, whom the reader has seen already, accompanied him, and also the youth named Hippolyte Terentieff. The latter was only seventeen or eighteen. He had an intelligent face, though it was usually irritated and fretful in expression. His skeleton-like figure, his ghastly complexion, the brightness of his eyes, and the red spots of colour on his cheeks, betrayed the victim of consumption to the most casual glance. He coughed persistently, and panted for breath; it looked as though he had but a few weeks more to live. He was nearly dead with fatigue, and fell, rather than sat, into a chair. The rest bowed as they came in; and being more or less abashed, put on an air of extreme self-assurance. In short, their attitude was not that which one would have expected in men who professed to despise all trivialities, all foolish mundane conventions, and indeed everything, except their own personal interests.
"Antip Burdovsky," stuttered the son of Pavlicheff.
"Vladimir Doktorenko," said Lebedeff's nephew briskly, and with a certain pride, as if he boasted of his name.
"Keller," murmured the retired officer.
"Hippolyte Terentieff," cried the last-named, in a shrill voice.
They sat now in a row facing the prince, and frowned, and played with their caps. All appeared ready to speak, and yet all were silent; the defiant expression on their faces seemed to say, "No, sir, you don't take us in!" It could be felt that the first word spoken by anyone present would bring a torrent of speech from the whole deputation.

陪同将军来的年轻人２８岁左右，高挑的个子，身材匀称，有一张漂亮而聪明的脸蛋，乌黑的大眼睛目光炯炯，充满着俏皮和嘲弄的神色。阿格拉娅甚至都没有朝他看一眼，继续朗诵着诗，依然正儿八经地只望着公爵一个人，也只面对着他一个人。公爵开始明白，她做这一切是别有用心的。但是起码新来的客人使他多少调整了尴尬的状态。看见他们后，他欠身站起，从远处亲切地向将军点了点头，示意不要打断朗诵，自己则遇到扶手椅后面，左手搁在椅背上继续听着朗诵，这样他就比较自然，不像坐在扶手椅里那样“可笑”了。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜则用命令式的手势朝进来的人挥了挥手，让他们停在那里。而公爵对于陪同将军来的新客则产生了极大的兴趣，明确地肯定这人是叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇·拉多姆斯基，因为已经听说有不少有关此人的事，也不止一次想到过他。只有他穿的那件便装使他感到困惑，因为他听说，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇是个军人。在诗朗诵这段时间里这位新客的唇间始终挂着嘲弄的微笑，似乎他已经听说过有关“可怜的骑士”的事儿。
“也许，这是他自己想出来的名堂，”公爵暗自想道。
但是阿格拉娅的情况却完全不同。她开始表演朗诵时那种装模作样和刻意夸张的姿态已为严肃认真所掩盖。她已全神贯注于诗歌作品的精神内涵，而且就是以对这种内涵的理解来念出每一个词，以高度的朴实来朗读每一个诗句，因此当朗诵结束的时候，她不仅仅吸引了全体的注意，而且通过表达诗歌的高尚精神仿佛证实了她那么一本正经走到露台中央时竭力显示的装模作样和郑重其事多多少少是正确的。现在可以认为，这种郑重其事的姿态仅仅反映了她对于自己所要表达的那种高尚精神无限的，也许甚至于天真的敬意，她的眼睛闪闪发亮，灵感和欣喜引起的几乎不为人注意的轻微的肌肉抽动数次掠过她那漂亮的脸庞。她朗诵着：
世上有位可怜的骑士，
沉默寡言又单纯朴实，
外表忧郁，脸色苍占，
精神勇敢，禀性耿直。
一个不可理喻的幻影，
在他的眼前紊绕浮现，
它那魅人的深刻印象，
深深地嵌入他的心扉。
从此他的心熊熊燃烧，
再不对女人瞧上一眼，
至死对任何一个女人，
也不想吐露片言只语。
他在自己的脖颈上面，
戴上念珠而不是围巾，
无论在什么人的面前，
都不掀起脸上的钢罩。
他充满着纯洁的爱情，
他忠实于甜美的理想，
他用自己赤红的鲜血，
在盾牌上写上Ａ，Ｈ，Ｄ。
此时在巴勒斯坦荒漠，
骑士们攀登悬崖峭壁，
高呼着心上人的芳名，
跃马驰骋飞奔上战场，
Ｌｕｍｅｎ ｃｏｅｌｉ，ｓａｎｃｔａ Ｒｏｃａ！＊
他高声吼叫又狂又烈，
他的声威如巨雷灌耳，
使穆斯林们惊魂丧胆。
他回到遥远的城堡后，
离群索居囚禁般度日，
总默默无言、郁郁不乐，
终如痴如狂命归黄泉。
＊拉丁文，意为“天国的光明，圣洁的玫瑰”。
后来公爵回想起这一刻的情景，长久地感到困惑，并且为一个他百思不得其解的问题而苦恼不堪：怎么可以把如此真挚、美好的感情和这种明显的恶意嘲笑结合起来？这是一种嘲弄，对此公爵毫不怀疑；他清楚地理解这一点并且也有理由：在朗诵的时候阿洛拉娅擅自把Ａ。Ｍ。Ｄ。三个字母换成Ｈ。叩。Ｂ。＊他没有弄错，也没有听错，这一点他是没有怀疑的（后来也证实了这一点）。不论怎样，阿格拉娅的举动是有用心的，当然，她是开玩笑，尽管开得过于尖刻和轻率。还是一个月前大家就在议论和笑话的，‘可怜的骑士”。然而不论公爵后来怎么回忆，结果是，阿格拉娅说出这儿个字母不仅没有丝毫开玩笑的样子或是什么讥笑，甚至也没有特别强调这几个字母来突出其隐秘的含意，而是相反，她始终是那么认真、纯洁无暇和天真纯朴地朗诵，以致可以认为这些字母就是诗里的，书上就是这么印的。有一种沉重的和不愉快的感觉刺痛了公爵的心，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜当然既不明白换了字母也没有发现什么意思，伊万·费奥多罗维奇只知道他们是朗诵诗歌。其余的听众中有很多人是明白的，他们对阿格拉娅的大胆举动和用意感到惊讶，但是都保持沉默，尽量不露声色。但是叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇（公爵甚至准备打赌）不仅仅明白，甚至还竭力要显露出他是明白底蕴的：他那莞尔一笑带有的嘲弄意味太明显了。
“多么美妙呀！”将军夫人真正陶醉了，朗诵刚一结束便赞叹说，是谁写的诗？”
“是普希金，妈妈，别让我们丢丑，这有多不好意思！”阿杰莱达高声说。
“有你们在一起还不至于变得这么笨！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜苦恼地抢白说，“真羞耻！回去以后，马上把普希金的这首诗给我拿来！”
“可我们家里好像根本就没有普希金的书。”
“不知什么时候起，”亚历山德拉补充说，“有两卷脏书搁在那里。”
“马上派人去城里买，叫费多尔或者阿列克谢去，坐第一班火车，最好是阿列克谢去。阿格拉娅，到这儿来！吻吻我，你朗诵得很出色，但是，如果你是出于真心朗诵这首诗的话，”她几乎是低声耳语着补充说，那么我为你感到惋惜；如果你朗诵是嘲笑他，那么我也不赞成你的这种感情，因此不论怎样，最好是根本别朗诵。你懂吗？去吧，小姐，我以后再跟你说，我们在这里已经坐很久了。”
＊这是纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜·巴拉什科娃的俄语缩写。
与此同时，公爵正跟伊万·费奥多罗维奇致意问候，而将军则向他介绍了叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇·拉多姆斯基。
“是在路上把他抓来的，他刚下火车；他获悉我要来这里，我们一家人都在这里……”
“我获悉您也在这里，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇打断将军的话说，“因为我早就认为一定要寻找机会不仅仅结识您，而且还要得到您的友谊，所以我不想失去时机。您贵体不适？我刚刚才知道……”
“现在完全好了，我很高兴认识您，久闻大名了，甚至还跟团公爵谈起过您，”列夫·尼古拉耶维奇一边通过手去，一边回答说。
两人互相客套一番，握了握手，彼此都专注地看了一眼对方。霎那间谈话就变得很一般。公爵发现（他现在会既迅速又急切地发现一切，甚至也许还能注意到根本没有的事），叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇穿的便服使大家产生异常强烈的惊诧，以至所有其他的印象一时都被忘却和磨灭了。可以认为，改换服装包含着某种特别重要的意义。阿杰莱达和亚历山德拉困惑不解地向叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇询问着什么。他的亲戚山公爵甚至大为不安；将军跟他说话则显得很激动。只有阿格拉娅一个人好奇而又十分平静地对叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇打量了一会，仿佛想比较一下，是穿军装还是便服对他更合适，但过了一会她就转开脸，再也不朝他瞧一眼了。叶莉扎维塔·普罗得菲耶夫娜虽然可能有点不安，但是她也什么都不想间。公爵觉得，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇似乎不受将军夫人的青睐。
“他使我吃惊，大为惊讶！”伊万·费奥多罗维奇在回答大家提出的问题时反复说，“刚才在彼得堡遇见他时，我简直不敢相信。为什么突然这样改变？真是令人莫测。他可是自己首先高呼不要砸坏椅子的。＊”
从热烈起来的谈话中可以知道，原来叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇很久很久前就已宣告要退役；但每次他都不是那么当真说的，因此使人不能相信。而且就是讲严肃正经的事，他也总是带着一副开玩笑的样子，叫人怎么也无法弄得清真假，当他自己想叫人分辨不清时，尤其如此。
“我不过是一时的，就几个月，顶多退役一年，”拉多姆斯基笑着说。
＊果戈理《钦差大臣》里的话，后用来表示“做过头”的意思。
“没有任何必要，至少据我对您的事务多少了解的情况来看是这样，”将军仍然很激动。
“不是要去田庄转转吗，还是您自己建议我；何况我还想去国外……”
不过话题很快就改变了；但是非常特别的依然继续的不安情绪，在旁观的公爵看来，毕竟失去了分寸，这里一定有什么蹊跷。
“这么说，“可怜的骑士’又登台了？”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇走到阿格拉娅眼前问。
使公爵大为惊诧的是，阿格拉娅困惑不解和疑问地打量着他，好像要他知道，他们之间是不可能谈什么“可怜的骑士”的话的，她甚至不明白他的问话。
“太晚了，太晚了，现在差人到城里去买普希金的书是太晚了。”科利亚费尽力气与叶莉扎维塔·普罗种菲耶夫娜争辩，“我对您说了三千遍了：太晚了。”
“是的，现在派人去城里确实太晚了，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇立即撇下阿格拉娅，突然凑到这边来说，“我想，彼得堡的店铺也已打烊了，８点多了，”他掏出怀表证实说。
“多少日子等过去了，也没想起来，等到明天也可以忍耐的，”阿杰莱达加了一句。
“再说，上流社会的人对文学大感兴趣也不体面，”科利亚补充说，“您问问叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，对红轮子的黄敞蓬马车感兴趣要体面得多。”
“您又是从书上看来的，科利亚，”阿杰莱达指出。
“除了从书上看来的，他不会说别的，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇接过话茬说，“他希望整句整句引自评论文章，我早已有幸了解尼古拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇的谈话，但是这次他说的却不是从书本上看来的。尼古拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇显然指的是我那辆红轮于的黄敞蓬马车。只不过我已经将它换了，您说的是过了时的新闻。”
公爵倾听着拉多姆斯基说的话……他觉得，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇的举止潇洒，谦逊，活泼，他特别喜欢他对招惹他的科利亚说话所用的那种完全平等和友好的态度。
“这是什么。”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜问列别杰夫的女儿维拉，她站在将军夫人面前，手里拿着几本书，大开本，装璜精美，几乎还是新的。
“普希金的书，”维拉说，“我家藏的普希金的书。爸爸吩咐我给您拿来的。”
“怎么能这样？这怎么可以？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜很是惊奇。
“不是作为礼物，不是作为礼物！我不敢！”列别杰夫从女儿身后跳出来说，“照原价便是。这是我家自己的藏书，安年科夫的版本，现在已经找不到这样的了，就照原价让给您。我是怀着敬意献上这些书，愿意卖给您，使将军夫人阁下对文学的崇高感情和高尚的迫不及待心情得到满足。”
“啊，你要卖，那么就谢谢了，不过，别担心，不会让你吃亏的。只是请别装腔作势，先生。我听说过你，据说，你读了许多书，什么时候来聊聊；你自己把书送到我那里去，是吗？”
“遵命……恭敬从命！”列别杰夫从女儿那里夺过书，十分满意地装腔作势说。
“算了，只不过别给我弄丢了，拿来吧，不必恭敬，但是有一个条件，”她专注地打量着他，补充说，“我只许你到门口，今天我不打算接待你。要是差女儿维拉，哪怕现在就去也成，我很喜欢她。”
“您怎么不说那些人的事？”维拉焦急不堪地对父亲说，“要是这样的话，他们可是会自己闯进来的：已经开始在那里闹了。列夫·尼古拉耶维，”她向已经拿起自己帽子的公爵说，“那里有几个人早就要到您这儿来，有四个人，在我们那里等着骂着，可爸爸却不让他们来见您。”
“是什么客人。”公爵问。
“说是有事找您，只不过他们这种人，现在不放他们进来，也会在路上拦住您的。列夫·尼古拉耶维奇，最好还是现在放他们进来，以后就免得麻烦。现在加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维和普季岑在劝说他们，他们不听。”
“是帕夫利谢夫的儿子！是帕夫利谢夫的儿子！不必睬他们！不必睬他们！”列别杰夫连连挥动双手说，“他们的话也不值一听；最尊敬的公爵阁下，您为了他们伤自己的神也有失体面。就是这样。他们是不配……”
“帕关利谢夫的儿子！我的上帝！”公爵异常窘困地惊呼起来：“我知道，但是我不是……已经把这件事委托加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇去办了吗？刚才加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇对我说……”
但是加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维已经从房间里走到露台上来了；普季岑跟在他后面。在最近的上个房间里可以听到喧闹声和伊沃尔享将军的大嗓门，他似乎是想盖过几个嗓子的声音。科利亚立即朝喧闹声那里跑去。
“这非常有意思！”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇大声说。
“这么说，他是知情的！”公爵思忖着。
“哪个帕夫利谢夫的儿子？……哪来的帕夫利谢夫儿子？”伊万·费奥多罗维奇将军困惑地问。他好奇地打量着大家的脸并惊讶地发现，只有他一个人不知道这一新的事情。
实际上，在场的人人都很紧张，等待着事态的发展。这件纯属个人的私事竟这般强烈地引起这里所有人的关注，这使公爵深为诧异。
“如果您马上而且亲自了结这件事的话，这将是很好的，”阿格拉娅带着一副特别严肃的神情走近公爵说，“而且请允许我们做您的见证人。有人想玷污您的名誉，公爵，您应该理直气壮地证明自己是正确的，我先为您感到万分高兴。”
“我也想最终了结这种卑劣的无理要求，”将军夫人高声嚷道，“公爵，好好教训教训他们，别留情！这件事已听得我耳里嗡嗡直响，为了你我也弄得十分烦恼。不过看一看也挺有趣。把他们叫来，我们坐下。阿格拉娅出的主意很好。您听说这件事什么没有，公爵？”她转向出公爵问。
“当然听说过，就在你们这儿。但我特别想要瞧瞧这些年轻人，”ω公爵回答说。
“这就是那些虚无主义者，是吗？”
“不，他们也不能说是虚无主义者，”列别杰夫跨前一一步说，他也不安得几乎要打哆嗦，“这是另一些特殊的人，我外甥说，他们走得比虚无主义者还远。将军夫人阁下，您以为您在场就能使他们不好意思，这可是枉然，他们不会不好意思的，虚无主义者有时候毕竟是知书达理的，甚至是学者，可这些人走得更远，因为他们首先是实干的人，其实，这是虚无主义的某种后果，但不是通过直接的途径，而是由传闻间接造成的，他们也不是在哪家杂志上发表什么文章宣布自己的主张，而是直接付诸行动；比如，他们不会谈什么普希金毫无意义，也不会议论俄罗斯发解成几部分的必要性；不，他们现在已经理所当然地认为，如果很想做什么事，那么无论什么障碍都不能阻止他们，哪怕干这件事时必须得杀死八个人。所以，公爵，我劝您还是……”
但是公爵已经走去劝客人们开门了。
“您在诽谤，列别杰夫，”他微笑着说，“您外甥使您感到非常痛心，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜，您别信他的。我请您相信，戈尔斯基和达尼洛夫*之流只不过是例外，而这些人仅仅是……弄错了……只是我不想在这里当着大家的面处理这件事。对不起，叶莉扎维塔·普罗得菲耶夫娜，他们就要进来，我让您见一见他们，然而就把他们带开。请吧，先先们。”
*安戈尔斯基和达尼洛大系十九世纪六十年代两起杀人案的凶手。
其实更使他不安的是另一个折留人的念头。他模模糊糊感到，这件事会不会是有人暗中事先指使的？就是要在此时此刻，就是要有这些人见证，也许，正是为了等若出他的丑，而不是希望他胜利？但是他又为自己有这种“古怪和恶意的疑心”而感到惆怅忧郁。他觉得，如果有人知道他头脑里有这样的念头，他宁肯死去。在他的新客人进来的那一刻，他真心诚意地愿意把自己看作是他周围所有的人中间道德上最最卑劣的人。
走进来有五个人，四个是新客人，跟在他们后面的第五个是伊沃尔京将军，他焦躁激动，正在大发言辞。“此人一定是帮我说话的！”公爵脸带微笑想。科利亚跟这些人一起溜了进来，他正跟来访者中的伊波利特热烈地说着话，伊波利特听着，不时冷笑着。
公爵请客人们坐下。所有这几个人都很年轻，甚至还未成年，因此眼前的事情以及由此而产生的礼仪，实在是很令人惊奇的。比如，伊万·费奥多罗维奇·叶潘钦对这桩“新事情”毫无所知也不甚明白，望着这些黄口小儿，他甚至很愤怒，要不是他夫人对公爵私人的利益表现出出奇的热心，从而抑制了他的发作，否则他一定会以某种方式表示反对的。不过他留下来，部分是出于好奇，部分是出于好心，甚至准备助一臂之力、无论怎么样他的威望还是管用的；但是刚进来的伊沃尔京将军老远就朝他鞠躬又惹得他气乎乎的；他皱眉蹙额，打定主意坚决保持沉默。
其实，四个年轻来访者中有一人已３０岁左右，是“罗戈任那一伙人中的退役中尉，自己给别人一次就是１５个卢布的拳击手”。可以料想，他是作为其余几人的知心朋友陪他们来。为他们壮胆的，必要时可给他们支持。在那几个人中被称作“帕夫利谢夫的儿子”的那一个处于首要地位并起着首要作用，虽然他自报姓名是安季普·布尔多夫斯基。这是个衣着寒酸、不修边幅的年轻人，礼服上的袖子油光光如镜子一般可以照人，油腻的背心扣子一直扣到上面，衬衫却不知去向，黑色的丝围巾卷成了细带子，油污得无以复加，一双手也久未洗涤，脸上长满粉刺，头发是淡黄色的，目光既天真又无赖，如果可以这样形容的话，他个子不矮，身材消瘦，２２岁左右，他的脸上既没有丝毫的讽刺，也没有半了点儿踌躇；相反流露出完全但然的陶醉于自己拥有的权利的神情，与此同时还显示出必须始终使自己做一个受欺侮的人并觉得自己经常受欺侮，这已到了令人奇怪的地步，他说话很激动，很着急，结结巴巴；仿佛不能完全把词讲出来，就像是个口齿不清的人或者甚至像外国人说话，虽然他是地道的俄罗斯人。
陪他来的首先是读者已经知道的列别杰夫的外甥，其次是伊波利特。伊波利特还很年轻，１７岁，也许是1８岁左右，他的脸相聪颖，但又经常带着恼火的神情，疾病也在上面留下了可怕的痕迹，他瘦得皮包骨头，肤色蜡黄，眼睛倒闪闪发亮，颧骨上燃着两团红晕。他不停地咳嗽；每讲一个词，每作一欢呼吸几乎总伴有嘶娅的声音。显然肺病已经到了相当厉害的程度。看来，他至多还能活两三个星期。他已经非常劳累，比大家都先要紧坐到椅子上。其余的人进来时还略为客套一下，几乎有点拘谨，是，看起人来却摆出一副架子，显然是怕有失尊严，这跟他们的名声出奇地不相符合，因为他们被看作是否定上流社会所有无用的繁文褥节、世俗偏见的人，除了自身的利益之外，他们几乎否定世上的一切。
“琴季普·布尔多斯基，”“帕夫利谢夫的儿子”性急和结巴地申报着。
“弗拉基米尔·多克托连科，”列别杰夫的外甥发音清晰、口齿清楚地自我介绍说，甚至像是在夸耀他是多克托连科。
“凯勒尔！”退役中尉低低说了一声。
“伊波利特·捷连季耶夫，”最后一个出入意料地发出了尖声尖气的声音。终于大家在公爵对面的一排椅子上落座，在自我介绍以后，现在大家又立即现出阴郁的脸色，为了振足精神他们把帽子从一只手换到另一只手，大家都准备好了要说话，可是大家又都沉默着，作出一副挑衅的姿态等待着什么，这种样子分明是表示：“不，兄弟，你在撒谎，你蒙骗不了人！”可以感觉到。只要随便什么人说出一个词开个头，马上所有的人便会七嘴入舌、争先恐后一起说起来。
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 24楼  发表于: 2014-01-17 0

Part 2 Chapter 8
"I DID not expect you, gentlemen," began the prince. I have been ill until to-day. A month ago," he continued, addressing himself to Antip Burdovsky, "I put your business into Gavrila Ardalionovitch Ivolgin's hands, as I told you then. I do not in the least object to having a personal interview ... but you will agree with me that this is hardly the time ... I propose that we go into another room, if you will not keep me long... As you see, I have friends here, and believe me ..."
"Friends as many as you please, but allow me," interrupted the harsh voice of Lebedeff's nephew--" allow me to tell you that you might have treated us rather more politely, and not have kept us waiting at least two hours ...
"No doubt ... and I ... is that acting like a prince? And you ... you may be a general! But I ... I am not your valet! And I ... I..." stammered Antip Burdovsky.
He was extremely excited; his lips trembled, and the resentment of an embittered soul was in his voice. But he spoke so indistinctly that hardly a dozen words could be gathered.
"It was a princely action!" sneered Hippolyte.
"If anyone had treated me so," grumbled the boxer.
"I mean to say that if I had been in Burdovsky's place...I..."
"Gentlemen, I did not know you were there; I have only just been informed, I assure you," repeated Muishkin.
"We are not afraid of your friends, prince," remarked Lebedeff's nephew, "for we are within our rights."
The shrill tones of Hippolyte interrupted him. "What right have you ... by what right do you demand us to submit this matter, about Burdovsky ... to the judgment of your friends? We know only too well what the judgment of your friends will be! ..."
This beginning gave promise of a stormy discussion. The prince was much discouraged, but at last he managed to make himself heard amid the vociferations of his excited visitors.
"If you," he said, addressing Burdovsky--"if you prefer not to speak here, I offer again to go into another room with you ... and as to your waiting to see me, I repeat that I only this instant heard ..."
"Well, you have no right, you have no right, no right at all!... Your friends indeed!"... gabbled Burdovsky, defiantly examining the faces round him, and becoming more and more excited. "You have no right!..." As he ended thus abruptly, he leant forward, staring at the prince with his short-sighted, bloodshot eyes. The latter was so astonished, that he did not reply, but looked steadily at him in return.
"Lef Nicolaievitch!" interposed Madame Epanchin, suddenly, "read this at once, this very moment! It is about this business."
She held out a weekly comic paper, pointing to an article on one of its pages. Just as the visitors were coming in, Lebedeff, wishing to ingratiate himself with the great lady, had pulled this paper from his pocket, and presented it to her, indicating a few columns marked in pencil. Lizabetha Prokofievna had had time to read some of it, and was greatly upset.
"Would it not be better to peruse it alone ..." later asked the prince, nervously.
"No, no, read it--read it at once directly, and aloud, aloud!" cried she, calling Colia to her and giving him the journal.--" Read it aloud, so that everyone may hear it!"
An impetuous woman, Lizabetha Prokofievna sometimes weighed her anchors and put out to sea quite regardless of the possible storms she might encounter. Ivan Fedorovitch felt a sudden pang of alarm, but the others were merely curious, and somewhat surprised. Colia unfolded the paper, and began to read, in his clear, high-pitched voice, the following article:
"Proletarians and scions of nobility! An episode of the brigandage of today and every day! Progress! Reform! Justice!"
"Strange things are going on in our so-called Holy Russia in this age of reform and great enterprises; this age of patriotism in which hundreds of millions are yearly sent abroad; in which industry is encouraged, and the hands of Labour paralyzed, etc.; there is no end to this, gentlemen, so let us come to the point. A strange thing has happened to a scion of our defunct aristocracy. (DE PROFUNDIS!) The grandfathers of these scions ruined themselves at the gaming-tables; their fathers were forced to serve as officers or subalterns; some have died just as they were about to be tried for innocent thoughtlessness in the handling of public funds. Their children are sometimes congenital idiots, like the hero of our story; sometimes they are found in the dock at the Assizes, where they are generally acquitted by the jury for edifying motives; sometimes they distinguish themselves by one of those burning scandals that amaze the public and add another blot to the stained record of our age. Six months ago--that is, last winter--this particular scion returned to Russia, wearing gaiters like a foreigner, and shivering with cold in an old scantily-lined cloak. He had come from Switzerland, where he had just undergone a successful course of treatment for idiocy (SIC!). Certainly Fortune favoured him, for, apart from the interesting malady of which he was cured in Switzerland (can there be a cure for idiocy?) his story proves the truth of the Russian proverb that 'happiness is the right of certain classes!' Judge for yourselves. Our subject was an infant in arms when he lost his father, an officer who died just as he was about to be court-martialled for gambling away the funds of his company, and perhaps also for flogging a subordinate to excess (remember the good old days, gentlemen). The orphan was brought up by the charity of a very rich Russian landowner. In the good old days, this man, whom we will call P--, owned four thousand souls as serfs (souls as serfs!--can you understand such an expression, gentlemen? I cannot; it must be looked up in a dictionary before one can understand it; these things of a bygone day are already unintelligible to us). He appears to have been one of those Russian parasites who lead an idle existence abroad, spending the summer at some spa, and the winter in Paris, to the greater profit of the organizers of public balls. It may safely be said that the manager of the Chateau des Fleurs (lucky man!) pocketed at least a third of the money paid by Russian peasants to their lords in the days of serfdom. However this may be, the gay P-- brought up the orphan like a prince, provided him with tutors and governesses (pretty, of course!) whom he chose himself in Paris. But the little aristocrat, the last of his noble race, was an idiot. The governesses, recruited at the Chateau des Fleurs, laboured in vain; at twenty years of age their pupil could not speak in any language, not even Russian. But ignorance of the latter was still excusable. At last P-- was seized with a strange notion; he imagined that in Switzerland they could change an idiot into a mail of sense. After all, the idea was quite logical; a parasite and landowner naturally supposed that intelligence was a marketable commodity like everything else, and that in Switzerland especially it could be bought for money. The case was entrusted to a celebrated Swiss professor, and cost thousands of roubles; the treatment lasted five years. Needless to say, the idiot did not become intelligent, but it is alleged that he grew into something more or less resembling a man. At this stage P-- died suddenly, and, as usual, he had made no will and left his affairs in disorder. A crowd of eager claimants arose, who cared nothing about any last scion of a noble race undergoing treatment in Switzerland, at the expense of the deceased, as a congenital idiot. Idiot though he was, the noble scion tried to cheat his professor, and they say he succeeded in getting him to continue the treatment gratis for two years, by concealing the death of his benefactor. But the professor himself was a charlatan. Getting anxious at last when no money was forthcoming, and alarmed above all by his patient's appetite, he presented him with a pair of old gaiters and a shabby cloak and packed him off to Russia, third class. It would seem that Fortune had turned her back upon our hero. Not at all; Fortune, who lets whole populations die of hunger, showered all her gifts at once upon the little aristocrat, like Kryloff's Cloud which passes over an arid plain and empties itself into the sea. He had scarcely arrived in St. Petersburg, when a relation of his mother's (who was of bourgeois origin, of course), died at Moscow. He was a merchant, an Old Believer, and he had no children. He left a fortune of several millions in good current coin, and everything came to our noble scion, our gaitered baron, formerly treated for idiocy in a Swiss lunatic asylum. Instantly the scene changed, crowds of friends gathered round our baron, who meanwhile had lost his head over a celebrated demi-mondaine; he even discovered some relations; moreover a number of young girls of high birth burned to be united to him in lawful matrimony. Could anyone possibly imagine a better match? Aristocrat, millionaire, and idiot, he has every advantage! One might hunt in vain for his equal, even with the lantern of Diogenes; his like is not to be had even by getting it made to order!"
"Oh, I don't know what this means" cried Ivan Fedorovitch, transported with indignation.
"Leave off, Colia," begged the prince. Exclamations arose on all sides.
"Let him go on reading at all costs!" ordered Lizabetha Prokofievna, evidently preserving her composure by a desperate effort. "Prince, if the reading is stopped, you and I will quarrel."
Colia had no choice but to obey. With crimson cheeks he read on unsteadily:
"But while our young millionaire dwelt as it were in the Empyrean, something new occurred. One fine morning a man called upon him, calm and severe of aspect, distinguished, but plainly dressed. Politely, but in dignified terms, as befitted his errand, he briefly explained the motive for his visit. He was a lawyer of enlightened views; his client was a young man who had consulted him in confidence. This young man was no other than the son of P--, though he bears another name. In his youth P--, the sensualist, had seduced a young girl, poor but respectable. She was a serf, but had received a European education. Finding that a child was expected, he hastened her marriage with a man of noble character who had loved her for a long time. He helped the young couple for a time, but he was soon obliged to give up, for the high-minded husband refused to accept anything from him. Soon the careless nobleman forgot all about his former mistress and the child she had borne him; then, as we know, he died intestate. P-- 's son, born after his mother's marriage, found a true father in the generous man whose name he bore. But when he also died, the orphan was left to provide for himself, his mother now being an invalid who had lost the use of her limbs. Leaving her in a distant province, he came to the capital in search of pupils. By dint of daily toil he earned enough to enable him to follow the college courses, and at last to enter the university. But what can one earn by teaching the children of Russian merchants at ten copecks a lesson, especially with an invalid mother to keep? Even her death did not much diminish the hardships of the young man's struggle for existence. Now this is the question: how, in the name of justice, should our scion have argued the case? Our readers will think, no doubt, that he would say to himself: 'P-- showered benefits upon me all my life; he spent tens of thousands of roubles to educate me, to provide me with governesses, and to keep me under treatment in Switzerland. Now I am a millionaire, and P--'s son, a noble young man who is not responsible for the faults of his careless and forgetful father, is wearing himself out giving ill-paid lessons. According to justice, all that was done for me ought to have been done for him. The enormous sums spent upon me were not really mine; they came to me by an error of blind Fortune, when they ought to have gone to P--'s son. They should have gone to benefit him, not me, in whom P-- interested himself by a mere caprice, instead of doing his duty as a father. If I wished to behave nobly, justly, and with delicacy, I ought to bestow half my fortune upon the son of my benefactor; but as economy is my favourite virtue, and I know this is not a case in which the law can intervene, I will not give up half my millions. But it would be too openly vile, too flagrantly infamous, if I did not at least restore to P--'s son the tens of thousands of roubles spent in curing my idiocy. This is simply a case of conscience and of strict justice. Whatever would have become of me if P-- had not looked after my education, and had taken care of his own son instead of me?'
"No, gentlemen, our scions of the nobility do not reason thus. The lawyer, who had taken up the matter purely out of friendship to the young man, and almost against his will, invoked every consideration of justice, delicacy, honour, and even plain figures; in vain, the ex-patient of the Swiss lunatic asylum was inflexible. All this might pass, but the sequel is absolutely unpardonable, and not to be excused by any interesting malady. This millionaire, having but just discarded the old gaiters of his professor, could not even understand that the noble young man slaving away at his lessons was not asking for charitable help, but for his rightful due, though the debt was not a legal one; that, correctly speaking, he was not asking for anything, but it was merely his friends who had thought fit to bestir themselves on his behalf. With the cool insolence of a bloated capitalist, secure in his millions, he majestically drew a banknote for fifty roubles from his pocket-book and sent it to the noble young man as a humiliating piece of charity. You can hardly believe it, gentlemen! You are scandalized and disgusted; you cry out in indignation! But that is what he did! Needless to say, the money was returned, or rather flung back in his face. The case is not within the province of the law, it must be referred to the tribunal of public opinion; this is what we now do, guaranteeing the truth of all the details which we have related."
When Colia had finished reading, he handed the paper to the prince, and retired silently to a corner of the room, hiding his face in his hands. He was overcome by a feeling of inexpressible shame; his boyish sensitiveness was wounded beyond endurance. It seemed to him that something extraordinary, some sudden catastrophe had occurred, and that he was almost the cause of it, because he had read the article aloud.
Yet all the others were similarly affected. The girls were uncomfortable and ashamed. Lizabetha Prokofievna restrained her violent anger by a great effort; perhaps she bitterly regretted her interference in the matter; for the present she kept silence. The prince felt as very shy people often do in such a case; he was so ashamed of the conduct of other people, so humiliated for his guests, that he dared not look them in the face. Ptitsin, Varia, Gania, and Lebedeff himself, all looked rather confused. Stranger still, Hippolyte and the "son of Pavlicheff" also seemed slightly surprised, and Lebedeff's nephew was obviously far from pleased. The boxer alone was perfectly calm; he twisted his moustaches with affected dignity, and if his eyes were cast down it was certainly not in confusion, but rather in noble modesty, as if he did not wish to be insolent in his triumph. It was evident that he was delighted with the article.
"The devil knows what it means," growled Ivan Fedorovitch, under his breath; "it must have taken the united wits of fifty footmen to write it."
"May I ask your reason for such an insulting supposition, sir?" said Hippolyte, trembling with rage.
You will admit yourself, general, that for an honourable man, if the author is an honourable man, that is an--an insult," growled the boxer suddenly, with convulsive jerkings of his shoulders.
"In the first place, it is not for you to address me as 'sir,' and, in the second place, I refuse to give you any explanation," said Ivan Fedorovitch vehemently; and he rose without another word, and went and stood on the first step of the flight that led from the verandah to the street, turning his back on the company. He was indignant with Lizabetha Prokofievna, who did not think of moving even now.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen, let me speak at last," cried the prince, anxious and agitated. "Please let us understand one another. I say nothing about the article, gentlemen, except that every word is false; I say this because you know it as well as I do. It is shameful. I should be surprised if any one of you could have written it."
"I did not know of its existence till this moment," declared Hippolyte. "I do not approve of it."
"I knew it had been written, but I would not have advised its publication," said Lebedeff's nephew, "because it is premature."
"I knew it, but I have a right. I... I ... "stammered the "son of Pavlicheff."
"What! Did you write all that yourself? Is it possible?" asked the prince, regarding Burdovsky with curiosity.
"One might dispute your right to ask such questions," observed Lebedeff's nephew.
"I was only surprised that Mr. Burdovsky should have--however, this is what I have to say. Since you had already given the matter publicity, why did you object just now, when I began to speak of it to my friends?"
"At last!" murmured Lizabetha Prokofievna indignantly.
Lebedeff could restrain himself no longer; he made his way through the row of chairs.
"Prince," he cried, "you are forgetting that if you consented to receive and hear them, it was only because of your kind heart which has no equal, for they had not the least right to demand it, especially as you had placed the matter in the hands of Gavrila Ardalionovitch, which was also extremely kind of you. You are also forgetting, most excellent prince, that you are with friends, a select company; you cannot sacrifice them to these gentlemen, and it is only for you to have them turned out this instant. As the master of the house I shall have great pleasure ...."
"Quite right!" agreed General Ivolgin in a loud voice.
"That will do, Lebedeff, that will do--" began the prince, when an indignant outcry drowned his words.
"Excuse me, prince, excuse me, but now that will not do," shouted Lebedeff's nephew, his voice dominating all the others. "The matter must be clearly stated, for it is obviously not properly understood. They are calling in some legal chicanery, and upon that ground they are threatening to turn us out of the house! Really, prince, do you think we are such fools as not to be aware that this matter does not come within the law, and that legally we cannot claim a rouble from you? But we are also aware that if actual law is not on our side, human law is for us, natural law, the law of common-sense and conscience, which is no less binding upon every noble and honest man--that is, every man of sane judgment--because it is not to be found in miserable legal codes. If we come here without fear of being turned out (as was threatened just now) because of the imperative tone of our demand, and the unseemliness of such a visit at this late hour (though it was not late when we arrived, we were kept waiting in your anteroom), if, I say, we came in without fear, it is just because we expected to find you a man of sense; I mean, a man of honour and conscience. It is quite true that we did not present ourselves humbly, like your flatterers and parasites, but holding up our heads as befits independent men. We present no petition, but a proud and free demand (note it well, we do not beseech, we demand!). We ask you fairly and squarely in a dignified manner. Do you believe that in this affair of Burdovsky you have right on your side? Do you admit that Pavlicheff overwhelmed you with benefits, and perhaps saved your life? If you admit it (which we take for granted), do you intend, now that you are a millionaire, and do you not think it in conformity with justice, to indemnify Burdovsky? Yes or no? If it is yes, or, in other words, if you possess what you call honour and conscience, and we more justly call common-sense, then accede to our demand, and the matter is at an end. Give us satisfaction, without entreaties or thanks from us; do not expect thanks from us, for what you do will be done not for our sake, but for the sake of justice. If you refuse to satisfy us, that is, if your answer is no, we will go away at once, and there will be an end of the matter. But we will tell you to your face before the present company that you are a man of vulgar and undeveloped mind; we will openly deny you the right to speak in future of your honour and conscience, for you have not paid the fair price of such a right. I have no more to say--I have put the question before you. Now turn us out if you dare. You can do it; force is on your side. But remember that we do not beseech, we demand! We do not beseech, we demand!"
With these last excited words, Lebedeff's nephew was silent.
"We demand, we demand, we demand, we do not beseech," spluttered Burdovsky, red as a lobster.
The speech of Lebedeff's nephew caused a certain stir among the company; murmurs arose, though with the exception of Lebedeff, who was still very much excited, everyone was careful not to interfere in the matter. Strangely enough, Lebedeff, although on the prince's side, seemed quite proud of his nephew's eloquence. Gratified vanity was visible in the glances he cast upon the assembled company.
"In my opinion, Mr. Doktorenko," said the prince, in rather a low voice, "you are quite right in at least half of what you say. I would go further and say that you are altogether right, and that I quite agree with you, if there were not something lacking in your speech. I cannot undertake to say precisely what it is, but you have certainly omitted something, and you cannot be quite just while there is something lacking. But let us put that aside and return to the point. Tell me what induced you to publish this article. Every word of it is a calumny, and I think, gentlemen, that you have been guilty of a mean action."
"Allow me--"
"Sir--"
"What? What? What?" cried all the visitors at once, in violent agitation.
"As to the article," said Hippolyte in his croaking voice, "I have told you already that we none of us approve of it! There is the writer," he added, pointing to the boxer, who sat beside him. "I quite admit that he has written it in his old regimental manner, with an equal disregard for style and decency. I know he is a cross between a fool and an adventurer; I make no bones about telling him so to his face every day. But after all he is half justified; publicity is the lawful right of every man; consequently, Burdovsky is not excepted. Let him answer for his own blunders. As to the objection which I made just now in the name of all, to the presence of your friends, I think I ought to explain, gentlemen, that I only did so to assert our rights, though we really wished to have witnesses; we had agreed unanimously upon the point before we came in. We do not care who your witnesses may be, or whether they are your friends or not. As they cannot fail to recognize Burdovsky's right (seeing that it is mathematically demonstrable), it is just as well that the witnesses should be your friends. The truth will only be more plainly evident."
"It is quite true; we had agreed upon that point," said Lebedeff's nephew, in confirmation.
"If that is the case, why did you begin by making such a fuss about it?" asked the astonished prince.
The boxer was dying to get in a few words; owing, no doubt, to the presence of the ladies, he was becoming quite jovial.
"As to the article, prince," he said, "I admit that I wrote it, in spite of the severe criticism of my poor friend, in whom I always overlook many things because of his unfortunate state of health. But I wrote and published it in the form of a letter, in the paper of a friend. I showed it to no one but Burdovsky, and I did not read it all through, even to him. He immediately gave me permission to publish it, but you will admit that I might have done so without his consent. Publicity is a noble, beneficent, and universal right. I hope, prince, that you are too progressive to deny this?"
"I deny nothing, but you must confess that your article--"
"Is a bit thick, you mean? Well, in a way that is in the public interest; you will admit that yourself, and after all one cannot overlook a blatant fact. So much the worse for the guilty parties, but the public welfare must come before everything. As to certain inaccuracies and figures of speech, so to speak, you will also admit that the motive, aim, and intention, are the chief thing. It is a question, above all, of making a wholesome example; the individual case can be examined afterwards; and as to the style--well, the thing was meant to be humorous, so to speak, and, after all, everybody writes like that; you must admit it yourself! Ha, ha!"
"But, gentlemen, I assure you that you are quite astray," exclaimed the prince. "You have published this article upon the supposition that I would never consent to satisfy Mr. Burdovsky. Acting on that conviction, you have tried to intimidate me by this publication and to be revenged for my supposed refusal. But what did you know of my intentions? It may be that I have resolved to satisfy Mr. Burdovsky's claim. I now declare openly, in the presence of these witnesses, that I will do so."
"The noble and intelligent word of an intelligent and most noble man, at last!" exclaimed the boxer.
"Good God!" exclaimed Lizabetha Prokofievna involuntarily.
"This is intolerable," growled the general.
"Allow me, gentlemen, allow me," urged the prince.
"I will explain matters to you. Five weeks ago I received a visit from Tchebaroff, your agent, Mr. Burdovsky. You have given a very flattering description of him in your article, Mr. Keller," he continued, turning to the boxer with a smile, "but he did not please me at all. I saw at once that Tchebaroff was the moving spirit in the matter, and, to speak frankly, I thought he might have induced you, Mr. Burdovsky, to make this claim, by taking advantage of your simplicity."
"You have no right.... I am not simple," stammered Burdovsky, much agitated.
"You have no sort of right to suppose such things," said Lebedeff's nephew in a tone of authority.
"It is most offensive!" shrieked Hippolyte; "it is an insulting suggestion, false, and most ill-timed."
"I beg your pardon, gentlemen; please excuse me," said the prince. "I thought absolute frankness on both sides would be best, but have it your own way. I told Tchebaroff that, as I was not in Petersburg, I would commission a friend to look into the matter without delay, and that I would let you know, Mr. Burdovsky. Gentlemen, I have no hesitation in telling you that it was the fact of Tchebaroff's intervention that made me suspect a fraud. Oh! do not take offence at my words, gentlemen, for Heaven's sake do not be so touchy!" cried the prince, seeing that Burdovsky was getting excited again, and that the rest were preparing to protest. "If I say I suspected a fraud, there is nothing personal in that. I had never seen any of you then; I did not even know your names; I only judged by Tchebaroff; I am speaking quite generally--if you only knew how I have been 'done' since I came into my fortune!"
"You are shockingly naive, prince," said Lebedeff's nephew in mocking tones.
"Besides, though you are a prince and a millionaire, and even though you may really be simple and good-hearted, you can hardly be outside the general law," Hippolyte declared loudly.
"Perhaps not; it is very possible," the prince agreed hastily, "though I do not know what general law you allude to. I will go on--only please do not take offence without good cause. I assure you I do not mean to offend you in the least. Really, it is impossible to speak three words sincerely without your flying into a rage! At first I was amazed when Tchebaroff told me that Pavlicheff had a son, and that he was in such a miserable position. Pavlicheff was my benefactor, and my father's friend. Oh, Mr. Keller, why does your article impute things to my father without the slightest foundation? He never squandered the funds of his company nor ill-treated his subordinates, I am absolutely certain of it; I cannot imagine how you could bring yourself to write such a calumny! But your assertions concerning Pavlicheff are absolutely intolerable! You do not scruple to make a libertine of that noble man; you call him a sensualist as coolly as if you were speaking the truth, and yet it would not be possible to find a chaster man. He was even a scholar of note, and in correspondence with several celebrated scientists, and spent large sums in the interests of science. As to his kind heart and his good actions, you were right indeed when you said that I was almost an idiot at that time, and could hardly understand anything--(I could speak and understand Russian, though),--but now I can appreciate what I remember--"
"Excuse me," interrupted Hippolyte, "is not this rather sentimental? You said you wished to come to the point; please remember that it is after nine o'clock."
"Very well, gentlemen--very well," replied the prince. "At first I received the news with mistrust, then I said to myself that I might be mistaken, and that Pavlicheff might possibly have had a son. But I was absolutely amazed at the readiness with which the son had revealed the secret of his birth at the expense of his mother's honour. For Tchebaroff had already menaced me with publicity in our interview. . . ."
"What nonsense!" Lebedeff's nephew interrupted violently.
"You have no right--you have no right!" cried Burdovsky.
"The son is not responsible for the misdeeds of his father; and the mother is not to blame," added Hippolyte, with warmth.
"That seems to me all the more reason for sparing her," said the prince timidly.
"Prince, you are not only simple, but your simplicity is almost past the limit," said Lebedeff's nephew, with a sarcastic smile.
"But what right had you?" said Hippolyte in a very strange tone.
"None--none whatever," agreed the prince hastily. "I admit you are right there, but it was involuntary, and I immediately said to myself that my personal feelings had nothing to do with it,-- that if I thought it right to satisfy the demands of Mr. Burdovsky, out of respect for the memory of Pavlicheff, I ought to do so in any case, whether I esteemed Mr. Burdovsky or not. I only mentioned this, gentlemen, because it seemed so unnatural to me for a son to betray his mother's secret in such a way. In short, that is what convinced me that Tchebaroff must be a rogue, and that he had induced Mr. Burdovsky to attempt this fraud."
"But this is intolerable!" cried the visitors, some of them starting to their feet.
"Gentlemen, I supposed from this that poor Mr. Burdovsky must be a simple-minded man, quite defenceless, and an easy tool in the hands of rogues. That is why I thought it my duty to try and help him as 'Pavlicheff's son'; in the first place by rescuing him from the influence of Tchebaroff, and secondly by making myself his friend. I have resolved to give him ten thousand roubles; that is about the sum which I calculate that Pavlicheff must have spent on me."
"What, only ten thousand!" cried Hippolyte.
"Well, prince, your arithmetic is not up to much, or else you are mighty clever at it, though you affect the air of a simpleton," said Lebedeff's nephew.
"I will not accept ten thousand roubles," said Burdovsky.
"Accept, Antip," whispered the boxer eagerly, leaning past the back of Hippolyte's chair to give his friend this piece of advice. "Take it for the present; we can see about more later on."
"Look here, Mr. Muishkin," shouted Hippolyte, "please understand that we are not fools, nor idiots, as your guests seem to imagine; these ladies who look upon us with such scorn, and especially this fine gentleman" (pointing to Evgenie Pavlovitch) "whom I have not the honour of knowing, though I think I have heard some talk about him--"
"Really, really, gentlemen," cried the prince in great agitation, "you are misunderstanding me again. In the first place, Mr. Keller, you have greatly overestimated my fortune in your article. I am far from being a millionaire. I have barely a tenth of what you suppose. Secondly, my treatment in Switzerland was very far from costing tens of thousands of roubles. Schneider received six hundred roubles a year, and he was only paid for the first three years. As to the pretty governesses whom Pavlicheff is supposed to have brought from Paris, they only exist in Mr. Keller's imagination; it is another calumny. According to my calculations, the sum spent on me was very considerably under ten thousand roubles, but I decided on that sum, and you must admit that in paying a debt I could not offer Mr. Burdovsky more, however kindly disposed I might be towards him; delicacy forbids it; I should seem to be offering him charity instead of rightful payment. I don't know how you cannot see that, gentlemen! Besides, I had no intention of leaving the matter there. I meant to intervene amicably later on and help to improve poor Mr. Burdovsky's position. It is clear that he has been deceived, or he would never have agreed to anything so vile as the scandalous revelations about his mother in Mr. Keller's article. But, gentlemen, why are you getting angry again? Are we never to come to an understanding? Well, the event has proved me right! I have just seen with my own eyes the proof that my conjecture was correct!" he added, with increasing eagerness.
He meant to calm his hearers, and did not perceive that his words had only increased their irritation.
"What do you mean? What are you convinced of?" they demanded angrily.
"In the first place, I have had the opportunity of getting a correct idea of Mr. Burdovsky. I see what he is for myself. He is an innocent man, deceived by everyone! A defenceless victim, who deserves indulgence! Secondly, Gavrila Ardalionovitch, in whose hands I had placed the matter, had his first interview with me barely an hour ago. I had not heard from him for some time, as I was away, and have been ill for three days since my return to St. Petersburg. He tells me that he has exposed the designs of Tchebaroff and has proof that justifies my opinion of him. I know, gentlemen, that many people think me an idiot. Counting upon my reputation as a man whose purse-strings are easily loosened, Tchebaroff thought it would be a simple matter to fleece me, especially by trading on my gratitude to Pavlicheff. But the main point is--listen, gentlemen, let me finish!--the main point is that Mr. Burdovsky is not Pavlicheff's son at all. Gavrila Ardalionovitch has just told me of his discovery, and assures me that he has positive proofs. Well, what do you think of that? It is scarcely credible, even after all the tricks that have been played upon me. Please note that we have positive proofs! I can hardly believe it myself, I assure you; I do not yet believe it; I am still doubtful, because Gavrila Ardalionovitch has not had time to go into details; but there can be no further doubt that Tchebaroff is a rogue! He has deceived poor Mr. Burdovsky, and all of you, gentlemen, who have come forward so nobly to support your friend--(he evidently needs support, I quite see that!). He has abused your credulity and involved you all in an attempted fraud, for when all is said and done this claim is nothing else!"
"What! a fraud? What, he is not Pavlicheff's son? Impossible!"
These exclamations but feebly expressed the profound bewilderment into which the prince's words had plunged Burdovsky's companions.
"Certainly it is a fraud! Since Mr. Burdovsky is not Pavlicheff's son, his claim is neither more nor less than attempted fraud (supposing, of course, that he had known the truth), but the fact is that he has been deceived. I insist on this point in order to justify him; I repeat that his simple-mindedness makes him worthy of pity, and that he cannot stand alone; otherwise he would have behaved like a scoundrel in this matter. But I feel certain that he does not understand it! I was just the same myself before I went to Switzerland; I stammered incoherently; one tries to express oneself and cannot. I understand that. I am all the better able to pity Mr. Burdovsky, because I know from experience what it is to be like that, and so I have a right to speak. Well, though there is no such person as 'Pavlicheff's son,' and it is all nothing but a humbug, yet I will keep to my decision, and I am prepared to give up ten thousand roubles in memory of Pavlicheff. Before Mr. Burdovsky made this claim, I proposed to found a school with this money, in memory of my benefactor, but I shall honour his memory quite as well by giving the ten thousand roubles to Mr. Burdovsky, because, though he was not Pavlicheff's son, he was treated almost as though he were. That is what gave a rogue the opportunity of deceiving him; he really did think himself Pavlicheff's son. Listen, gentlemen; this matter must be settled; keep calm; do not get angry; and sit down! Gavrila Ardalionovitch will explain everything to you at once, and I confess that I am very anxious to hear all the details myself. He says that he has even been to Pskoff to see your mother, Mr. Burdovsky; she is not dead, as the article which was just read to us makes out. Sit down, gentlemen, sit down!"
The prince sat down, and at length prevailed upon Burdovsky's company to do likewise. During the last ten or twenty minutes, exasperated by continual interruptions, he had raised his voice, and spoken with great vehemence. Now, no doubt, he bitterly regretted several words and expressions which had escaped him in his excitement. If he had not been driven beyond the limits of endurance, he would not have ventured to express certain conjectures so openly. He had no sooner sat down than his heart was torn by sharp remorse. Besides insulting Burdovsky with the supposition, made in the presence of witnesses, that he was suffering from the complaint for which he had himself been treated in Switzerland, he reproached himself with the grossest indelicacy in having offered him the ten thousand roubles before everyone. "I ought to have waited till to-morrow and offered him the money when we were alone," thought Muishkin. "Now it is too late, the mischief is done! Yes, I am an idiot, an absolute idiot!" he said to himself, overcome with shame and regret.
Till then Gavrila Ardalionovitch had sat apart in silence. When the prince called upon him, he came and stood by his side, and in a calm, clear voice began to render an account of the mission confided to him. All conversation ceased instantly. Everyone, especially the Burdovsky party, listened with the utmost curiosity.

“先生们，我没有料到你们中任何一位会来，”公爵开始说，“我本人直至今天一直有病，而您的事（他转向安季普·布尔多夫斯基）还在一个月前我就委托加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇·伊沃尔京去办，这一点我当时就通知过您。不过，我现在也不回避亲自作出解释，只是，想必您也同意，在这种时刻……我建议跟我到另一个房间去，如果不用很长时间的话……这里现在有我的朋友在，请相信……”
“朋友……有多少都无所谓，但是，请……”虽然列别杰夫的外甥还没有把嗓门提得很高，但却用十足教训人的腔调突然打断公爵说，“请让我们申明一下，您最好对我们有礼貌一点、别让我们在您仆人的屋子里等上两个小时……”
“而且，当然……而且我……而且这是摆公爵派头！而且这……看来，您是将军！而我可不是您的仆人！而且我、我……”安季沓·布尔多夫斯基突然异常激动地嘟哝说。他双唇哆嗦，像受了大委屈似的声音发颤，口中吐沫飞溅，仿佛整个儿绷裂或爆发似的，但是突然又着忙起来，以至没说几句话就已经无法使人明白了。
“这是摆公爵派头！”伊波利特用尖细和颤抖的声音叫嚷着。
“假如我遇上这种事，”拳击手咕哝着说：“也就是说，如果用这种态度对待一个高尚的人，直接冲着我来，我要是处在布尔多夫斯基的地位……我就……”
“先生们，我获悉你们在这里总共才１分钟，真的，”公爵又再次说明。
“公爵，我们不怕您的朋友们，无论他们是什么人都不怕，因为我们是在维护自己的权利，”列别杰夫的外甥又申明说。
“可是，请问您又有什么权利把布尔多夫斯基的事提交给您的朋友作评断？”伊波利特又尖声嚷着，他已经非常焦躁了，“而且，我们也许不愿意让您的朋友们来评断；您朋友们的评断会有什么结果？这是太清楚不过了？”
“可是，布尔多夫斯基先生，如果您始终不愿意在这里谈话，”公爵终于能插进去说话了，对于这样的开端使他异常惊诧，“那么，我现在告诉您，我们马上就到另一个房间去，至于说你们诸位，我再重申一下，我只是一分钟前才听说……”
“但是您没有权利，没有权利，没有权利！……叫您的朋友们……就是这么回事！……”布尔多夫基突然重新嘟哝起来，惊恐而又担心地打量着周围，越是急躁越是不相信人，越是怕见生人。“您没有权利！”说出这句话后，他突然停住，就像是猝然而止，默然地瞪出那双近视的布满了又粗又红血丝的暴突的眼睛，疑问地盯着公爵看，整个身体则向前倾着。公爵这一次吃惊得也闭口不语，也瞪眼望着他，一言不发。
“列夫·尼古拉耶维奇！”突然叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜叫唤他，“你马上把这个读一下，马上读，这事跟你直接有关。”
她急忙递给他一份幽默周报，手指指了下一篇文章。在那儿个客人走进来时，列别杰夫就从旁边急急走近他所竭力奉承讨好的叶莉扎维塔·普罗利菲耶夫娜，一句话也不说，从自己的侧袋里掏出这份周报，指着用笔划出的地方，径直送到她的眼面前。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜已经看完了文章，她为所读到的内容感到万分惊诧和激动。
“可是，不念出来不是更好吗，”公爵非常困窘，含混地说，“过后，……我一个人时再读……”
“你最好就这么念吧，马上就念，念出声来！念出来。”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜迫不及待地把公爵刚来得及到手的报纸一把夺了过去，转向科利亚说，“念给大家听，让每个人都听到。”
叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜是个急躁和冲动的女人，因此往往不加深思熟虑，不顾天气好坏，一下子贸然决定起锚出海。伊万·费奥多罗维奇不安地移动着身子。但是在最初那一刻大家不由得愣住并困惑不解地等待的时候，科利亚打开了报纸，开始朗读起走近前来的列别杰夫指给他看的地方：
“无产者和贵族后裔，每天发生的光天化日的抢劫事件之一例！进步！改革！公正！”
“在我们所谓的神圣的俄罗斯，在我们改革和共同发挥主动性的时代，在发扬民族性和每年输出国外几亿卢布的时代，在鼓励工业和劳动力陷于瘫痪的时代！等等，等等，在这个不胜枚举其特征的时代，怪事层出不穷，因此，先生们，还是言归正传。这件奇闻轶事发生在过去我国的地主贵族（ｄｅｐｒｏｆｕｎｄｉｓ＊！）的一位后裔身上。他属于这样一类后裔：他们的祖父在轮盘赌中输了个精光，他们的父亲迫不得已去当士官、尉官，通常因无意弄错了公款受到审判而死去，他们的孩子犹如我们故事的主人公：或者长成白痴，或者甚至陷进刑事案件中，不过，陪审员们总以希望他们吸取教训和改正为之辩解开脱；或者，最后则做出一些使公众惊讶和使我们这个本来已够可耻的时代再添加耻辱的事来。我们的后裔在半年前像外国人那样套着鞋罩，穿着什么里衬都没有的外套冻得瑟瑟抖，冬天里从瑞士回到俄罗斯，他是在那里治白痴病的（ｓｉｃ＊＊！）应该承认，他是很走运的人，且不说他在瑞士治疗的那种有趣的疾病（请设想一下，自痴病能治好吗？！！），他自身的经历倒颇能证明俄罗斯一句谚语的正确性：‘福星只照有福人！’你们自己想想：这位爵爷的父亲是个中尉，据说，他玩牌时把全连的军饷的都‘突然弄丢’了，也可能是因为对下属滥用体罚，（诸位还记得旧时代吧！），于是受到了审判，随之便亡故了。当时我们的主人公还是个襁褓婴儿。一位十分富有的俄罗斯地主出于慈悲收养了他。这位俄罗斯地主……我们暂且称他帕某，在过去的黄金时代拥有“四千魂灵”（四个魂灵！诸位，你们明白这种表达的含义吗？我不明白。应该查查详解辞典，真是‘住事历历，却欲信还疑’）。他看来是属于俄罗斯游手好闲的寄生虫这一类人，一直在国外过着花天酒地的生活，夏天在矿泉疗养，冬天在巴黎的夏朵一德一弗勒尔＊＊＊寻欢作乐，一辈子不计其数的钱财花在那里。可以肯定地说，过去农奴的全部租赋至少有三分之气落到了夏朵一德一弗勒尔的老板手中（真是个有福之人呀！）。不论怎么说，无忧无虑的帕某照公爵的那一套培养着这个孤苦伶仃的小爷们，为他雇了家庭教师，无疑，还有漂亮的家庭女教师，那都是顺便从巴黎带回来的。可是这末代贵族后裔却是个白痴。夏朵一德一弗勒尔来的家庭女教师也无能为力，一直到２０岁我们的受教育者还没有学会任何语言，包括俄语在内。不过，后面这一点是情有可原的。后来，帕某那俄罗斯农奴主的头脑里忽发奇想，认为在瑞士可以把白痴教聪明，这种幻想其实也是合乎逻辑的，因为这位寄生虫和大财主自然会认为，只要有钱连聪明也可以在市场上买得到，何况是在瑞士。结果在瑞士一位著名的教授那里治疗了五年，钱花了成千上万，白痴当然并没有变聪明，但据说毕竟开始像个人样了，无疑，这是勉勉强强的。突然帕某粹然去世，当然，没有任何遗嘱；产业方面的事务照例是一团乱麻，贪婪的继承者有一大堆，对他们来说已经丝毫也顾不上靠接济在瑞士治痴呆病的末代贵族后裔。这后裔虽说是白痴，却也曾试着蒙骗自己的教授，据说，他对教授隐瞒了自己恩人的死讯，有两年在那里白白揩油接受治疗。但是教授本人就是个十足的大骗子，终于被自己这个２５岁的寄生虫身无分文、尤其是惊人的食欲吓坏了，于是便让他穿上自己的旧鞋罩，送给他自己的旧外套，出于慈悲打发他上了三等车厢，ｎａｃｈ　ＲｕｓｓｌａＩｌｄ＊，将他逐出瑞士，如释重负。我们的主人公似乎是要背运了。可事实却并非如此：命运女神弗尔图挪让整省整省的人饿死，却把自己全部的圣餐一下子都赐给了这位贵族后裔，就如克雷洛夫寓言中的乌云飞越干旱的日野，却化作倾盆大雨落进了大洋。几乎就在他从瑞士来到彼得堡的那一刻，他母亲（当然，是商人家庭出身）的一个亲戚在莫斯科死了，这是个没有子嗣的孤老头，商人，大胡子）分裂派教徒，他留下了好几百万的遗产，这是不容争议的，不折不扣的、现成提供的一笔遗产（要是给你我有多好，读者！），就这么全都留给了我们这位后裔，我们这位在瑞士治痴呆病的贵族！这一下就完全是另一回事了。在我们这位套着鞋罩、曾经追求一位有名的美人靠情妇的后裔周围，突然匹集起一大群亲朋好友，甚至也还有攀亲附戚的，尤其值得一提的是一群名门千金，她们渴望能与这位爵爷缔结合法婚姻，还有谁比他更好的呢：贵族，百万富翁、白痴、集所有的身份于一身，这样的丈夫点着灯也无处找吗，定做也做不出来呀！……”
＊法语，原为“深度，深奥”等意，此处可理解为“真奥妙”。
＊＊英语，意为：“原来如此！”。
＊＊＊俄语里一词可作“魂灵”、“农奴”等解。果戈理的小说《死魂灵》意即 “死农奴”。
＊＊法语俄译音，意为“花之宫”。
“这个……这个我可不明白！”伊万·费奥多罗维奇异常愤懑地高声嚷道。
“别念了，科利亚！”公爵用恳求的声音喊着。四周响起一片惊叹声。
“念！无论如何要念下去。”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜断钉截铁说。看得出，她是以极大的努力克制着自己。“公爵！如果不念下去，我们是会争吵的。”
没有办法，科利亚焦躁不安，满脸诽红，用激动的声音继续念下去：
“但正当我们的暴发户百万富翁过着所谓神仙般的日子的时候，发生了一件完全是不相于的事情。在一个美好的早晨，一位来访者去找他。此人一副安详、严峻的脸色，穿着朴素但很体面，说话彬彬有礼，得体而有理，思想显然带有进步色彩，他用两三句话就说明了造访的来意：他是个著名的律师，受一位年轻人委托办理一件事，现在是代表他来的。虽然这个年轻人用的是别的姓氏，可他不是别人，正是已故帕氏的儿子，淫欲的帕氏在年轻时代曾经诱骗了奴婢中一个清白贫穷，但却受过欧洲式教育的姑娘（当然，过去的农奴主男爵的权利起了作用）。当帕氏发现自己这种关系造成的后果不可回避又近在眼前的时候，就赶快把她嫁给了一个有手艺的甚至是有公职的人，此人性格高尚，早就爱上了这个姑娘。开始帕氏曾帮助过新婚夫妇，但不久这位性格高尚的丈夫便拒绝接受他的帮助。过了一些时候帕氏也渐渐地忘了这位姑娘以及与她所生的儿子。后来，众所周知，他没有做出安排就死去了。而他的儿子虽是在合法婚姻下出生的，却是在别人的姓氏下长大，他母亲的丈夫性格高尚，完全把他当作亲生儿子。但后来也去世了，这样他就只有自己的财产了，还有在遥远的外省病魔缠身、卧床不起、受着煎熬的母亲。他自己在首都给一商人的孩子上课，靠每天的高尚劳动挣钱，先是维持自己上中学，后来抱着进一步深造的目的，又去听对他有用的讲座。但是１０戈比教一课又能从俄罗斯商人那里挣得多少钱？加上他还有一个患病卧床的母亲，后来她在遥远的外省死去，却几乎没有减轻他的负担。现在的问题是：我们的贵族后裔应该如何公正地考虑这件事？你们读者当然会想，他会这样对自己说：‘我一生享用了帕氏的恩惠，为我的教育、请家庭女教师、在瑞士治痴呆病花去了许多万，现在我有百万家贯，而帕氏的儿子正把高尚的性格埋没在教课上，他对他那轻浮的忘了他的父亲的行为是丝毫没有责任的。所有花在我身上的钱，说句公道话，是应该花在他身上的。耗费在我身上的巨大款额，实际上并不是我的。这不过是弗尔图娜命运女神盲目造成的错误。那些钱是应该属于帕氏的儿子的。应该用在他身上，而不是用在我身上，这是轻浮和健忘的帕氏荒诞不经和古怪任性的产物。假若我真正是个高尚、知礼、公正的人，那么我就应该把我所得到的全部遗产的一半给他；但是因为我首先是个精明的人，我太清楚不过地明白，这件事法律是管不着的，所以我不会把几百万财产的一半给他。但是，如果现在不把帕氏花在我身上治痴呆病的好几万还给他的儿子，从我这方面来说至少也是大卑鄙无耻了（贵族后裔忘了，这样也是不精明的）。这件事只能凭已心和公道！假如帕氏不抚育我，假如他不关心我而关心自己的儿子，我又会怎样呢？”
＊德语，意力“回俄罗斯去”。
但是，不，诸位！我们的贵族后裔可不是这样考虑的。年轻人的律师接手为他奔走处理这件事纯粹是出于友谊，而且几乎是违背自己意愿的，几乎是被迫的。无论他怎么对贵族后裔说明理由，无论他怎么在贵族后裔面前提出应负的正直、高尚、公正的责任，甚至最起码是为自身考虑，这位瑞士来的受抚育者却毫不动摇，这又算什么呢？这还算不了什么。这位刚刚脱去自己教授送的鞋罩的百万富翁竟然不能领悟，把自己高尚的性格耗竭在教课上的年轻人并不是向了乞求施舍和帮助，而是要得到他自己的权利以及虽不是法律承认、但是他应得的一切，甚至这还不是他自己提出的要求，而只是他的朋友们为他说情。这就真正是不可原谅的，也不是用任何稀奇古怪的疾病为理由而可以宽恕的。我们的贵族后裔飘飘然于所得到的权力，可以仗着几百万家财无所顾忌地欺压别人，摆出一副傲慢的姿态，掏出一张５０卢布的钞票作为厚颜无耻的施舍寄给高尚的年轻人。诸位，你们不相信吧？你们会愤慨，你们会觉得受到了侮辱，你们会发出气愤的呐喊；可是他这么做了！当然，钱立刻就退回给了他，可以说是扔回到他脸上的。这件事将怎么解决呢？这事法律管不了，剩下的只有诉诸舆论！我们把这件奇闻交付给公众，我们担保此事确凿可靠：据说，我们一位著名的幽默家据此顺口就做了一首绝妙的讽刺诗，在描写我们世态人情的作品中，它不仅在外省而且在首都也不愧占有一席之地：
施奈德＊一件外套
廖瓦＊＊一穿整五年
无所事事平庸辈
碌碌无为度年华。
脚穿鞋罩回祖国，
百万遗产猛到手，
祈祷上帝用俄语，
轻取豪夺穷学生。”
科利亚念完后，便赶快把报纸交给了公爵。他一言不发奔往角落，双手捂着脸，钻在角落里。他羞愧得难以忍受，他那还未及习惯于世间卑鄙勾当的敏感童心气忿难平，甚至失去分寸。他觉得发生的是一件异乎寻常，一下子毁了一切的事情，而光凭他念出来这一点，他自己差不多就是这件事的原因了。
而且大家好像都有类似的感觉。
小姐们感到很尴尬和羞愧。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜克制着自己极大的愤怒，也许，也痛梅干预了这件事，现在她沉默不语。公爵此时的反应跟十分羞怯的人在类似场合下常有的反应是一样的：他为别人的行为感到羞耻无比，为自己的客人羞愧得无地自容，以至在最初一瞬间他甚至都怕望他们一眼。普季岑，瓦里娅，加尼亚，甚至列别杰夫－－大家都似乎有点尴尬的样子。最奇怪的是，伊波利特和“帕夫利谢夫的儿子”仿佛也有点吃惊：列别杰夫的外甥显然也很不满意。唯有拳击手坐在那里完全泰然处之，一边捻着小胡子，一边摆出一副傲慢的样子。他微微垂下眼睛，但并不是因为困窘，相反，仿佛是出于一种居高临下的谦逊大度和过分明显的洋洋得意。从一切迹象看来，他异常喜欢这篇文章。
＊瑞士教授的名字。
＊＊贵族后裔的小称。
“鬼知道这是什么名堂，”伊万·费奥多罗维奇低声叽咕着说，“就像是五十名仆役聚在一起凑出来的。”
“请问，阁下，您怎么可以用这样的假设来侮辱人？”伊波利特浑身战栗着问。
“这，这，这对于一个高尚的人来说……将军，您自己也会同意，如果是一个高尚的人写的，那么这就是侮辱。”拳击手抱怨着说。他也不知怎么的突然颤栗了一下，一边捻着小胡子，一边抽动着肩膀和身体。
“第一，我不是你们的‘阁下’，第二，我不想对你们做任何解释，”伊万·费奥多罗维奇火冒三丈，断然回答说。他一句话也不说，从座位上站起来，从露台朝出口走去，背对着众人，站在上面一个台阶上，对于甚至现在也还不想从原地离开的叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜感到十分恼怒。
“诸位，诸位，最后请允许我讲几句活，诸位，”公爵忧心忡仲、激动不安地喊了起来，“请费心，让我们能互相理解地来谈话，诸位，关于这篇文章我什么都不想说，随它去吧；只不过，诸位，文章里所讲的全不是事实。我之所以要说，是因为你们自己也知道这一点；这简直是可耻的。如果这是你们中间哪位写的，我真感到十分惊讶。”
“直到此刻之前，我一点也不知道这篇文章，”伊波利特申明说，“我不赞同这篇文章。”
“我虽然知道已经写了这篇文章，但是……我也不主张发表，因为为时过早，”列别杰夫的外甥补充说。
“我知道，但是我有权利……我……”“帕夫利谢夫的儿子”喃喃着说。
“什么！这一切全是您自己编造的？”公爵好奇地望着布尔多夫斯基问，“这不可能！”
“可是，可以不承认您有权提了这样的问题，”列别杰夫的外甥插嘴说。
“我只是觉得惊奇，布尔多夫斯基先生竟能……但是……我想说，既然您已经把这件事公诸于众，那么刚才我当着我朋友们的面谈起这件事的时候，您又为什么这么生气呢？”
“终于开始了！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜气忿地嘟哝着。
“公爵，您甚至忘了，”列别杰夫几乎焦急得像热锅上的蚂蚁，忍不住突然从椅子间钻出来说，“您忘了，只是凭您的善良的意志和无比的好心才接见他们并听取他们的意见，他们是没有权利要求这样做的，何况这件事您已经委托加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇去办了，连这也是出于您那过分的善良才这么做的，而现在，尊敬的公爵阁下，您处在经过选择的您的朋友中间，您不能为了这些先生而牺牲这样的伙伴，这么说吧，您可以把这些先生立刻从台阶上送走，而我作为房东甚至是很乐意……”
“完全有理！”伊沃尔京将军突然从房间角落里大声喊着。
“算了，列别杰夫，算了，算了……”公爵本已开始说，但是一阵突发的愤慨声淹没了他的话。
“不，对不起，公爵，对不起，现在这事可不能算了！”列别杰夫的外甥嚷着，几乎盖过了所有人的声音。“现在应该明确肯定地来决定这件事，因为事情显然未弄清楚。这里牵涉到法律的借口，根据这些借口有人威胁着要把我们从台阶上推出去！公爵，难道您认为我们傻到这种地步，连我们自己也不明白，我们这种事在多大程度上与法律无关，如果从法律上来分析，我们连要您拿出１个卢布的合法权利都没有？可是我们恰恰是明白的，如果这件事上我们没有法律权利，然而却有人的权利，合乎自然的权利；合情合理的权利和良心的声音。纵然我们这种权利没有写进任何一部腐朽的人类法典，但是一个高尚和正直的人，反正只要是理智幢全的人，即使有些条款没有写进法典，也应该在这些方面仍然做一个高尚正直的人。因此我们才到这里来，我们不怕要把我们从台阶上扔下去，刚才你们威吓着要轰我们走，就因为我们不是乞求，而是要求；就因为这么晚（虽然我们来的时候还不晚，是你们迫使我们在仆人的屋子里等晚了）还来做不合时宜的拜访，我再说一遍，我们之所以什么都不怕地到这里来，就因为我们认为您正是一个合情合理的人，也就是正直的有良心的人。确实，我们进来时不怎么谦恭，不像您那些奉承巴结、拍马逢迎的人，而是像自由人那样，高昂着头，绝不乞求，而是自由的高傲的要求（您听着，不是乞求，而是要求，好好牢记这一点！）。我们庄重和直截了当地向您提出这样的问题：在布尔多夫斯基的事上您承认自己是对的还是错的？您是否承认自己是帕夫利谢夫的受惠者，也许甚至还是他挽救了您的生命？如果您承认（这是明摆着的），那么在自己得到几百万后，您是否打算、或者；给帕夫利谢夫贫穷的儿子作补偿，凭良心您是否认为是公正的？是还是不？如果是是，换句话说，如果在您身上有您称之为正直和良心、而我们更确切地叫作合情合理的东西，那么您就会满足我们，事情也就可以了结。”不用我们请求，不用我们感谢就满足我们，也不要期待从我们这里得到它们、因为您这样做不是为了我们、而是为了公正）如果您不想满足我们，也就是回答不，那么我们马上就走，事情也到此为止；我们要当着您所有的见证人当面对您说，您是个头脑简单、智力低下的人）今后不许您、您也无权自诩为正直和有良心的人（您想购买这一权利也太原价了。我说完了。我把问题提出来了。只要您敢，现在就把我们从台阶上推下去。”
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 25楼  发表于: 2014-01-17 0

Part 2 Chapter 9
"You will not deny, I am sure," said Gavrila Ardalionovitch, turning to Burdovsky, who sat looking at him with wide-open eyes, perplexed and astonished. You will not deny, seriously, that you were born just two years after your mother's legal marriage to Mr. Burdovsky, your father. Nothing would be easier than to prove the date of your birth from well-known facts; we can only look on Mr. Keller's version as a work of imagination, and one, moreover, extremely offensive both to you and your mother. Of course he distorted the truth in order to strengthen your claim, and to serve your interests. Mr. Keller said that he previously consulted you about his article in the paper, but did not read it to you as a whole. Certainly he could not have read that passage. .. . .
"As a matter of fact, I did not read it," interrupted the boxer, "but its contents had been given me on unimpeachable authority, and I . . ."
"Excuse me, Mr. Keller," interposed Gavrila Ardalionovitch. "Allow me to speak. I assure you your article shall be mentioned in its proper place, and you can then explain everything, but for the moment I would rather not anticipate. Quite accidentally, with the help of my sister, Varvara Ardalionovna Ptitsin, I obtained from one of her intimate friends, Madame Zoubkoff, a letter written to her twenty-five years ago, by Nicolai Andreevitch Pavlicheff, then abroad. After getting into communication with this lady, I went by her advice to Timofei Fedorovitch Viazovkin, a retired colonel, and one of Pavlicheff's oldest friends. He gave me two more letters written by the latter when he was still in foreign parts. These three documents, their dates, and the facts mentioned in them, prove in the most undeniable manner, that eighteen months before your birth, Nicolai Andreevitch went abroad, where he remained for three consecutive years. Your mother, as you are well aware, has never been out of Russia. . . . It is too late to read the letters now; I am content to state the fact. But if you desire it, come to me tomorrow morning, bring witnesses and writing experts with you, and I will prove the absolute truth of my story. From that moment the question will be decided."
These words caused a sensation among the listeners, and there was a general movement of relief. Burdovsky got up abruptly.
"If that is true," said he, "I have been deceived, grossly deceived, but not by Tchebaroff: and for a long time past, a long time. I do not wish for experts, not I, nor to go to see you. I believe you. I give it up.... But I refuse the ten thousand roubles. Good-bye."
"Wait five minutes more, Mr. Burdovsky," said Gavrila Ardalionovitch pleasantly. "I have more to say. Some rather curious and important facts have come to light, and it is absolutely necessary, in my opinion, that you should hear them. You will not regret, I fancy, to have the whole matter thoroughly cleared up."
Burdovsky silently resumed his seat, and bent his head as though in profound thought. His friend, Lebedeff's nephew, who had risen to accompany him, also sat down again. He seemed much disappointed, though as self-confident as ever. Hippolyte looked dejected and sulky, as well as surprised. He had just been attacked by a violent fit of coughing, so that his handkerchief was stained with blood. The boxer looked thoroughly frightened.
"Oh, Antip!" cried he in a miserable voice, "I did say to you the other day--the day before yesterday--that perhaps you were not really Pavlicheff's son!"
There were sounds of half-smothered laughter at this.
"Now, that is a valuable piece of information, Mr. Keller," replied Gania. "However that may be, I have private information which convinces me that Mr. Burdovsky, though doubtless aware of the date of his birth, knew nothing at all about Pavlicheff's sojourn abroad. Indeed, he passed the greater part of his life out of Russia, returning at intervals for short visits. The journey in question is in itself too unimportant for his friends to recollect it after more than twenty years; and of course Mr. Burdovsky could have known nothing about it, for he was not born. As the event has proved, it was not impossible to find evidence of his absence, though I must confess that chance has helped me in a quest which might very well have come to nothing. It was really almost impossible for Burdovsky or Tchebaroff to discover these facts, even if it had entered their heads to try. Naturally they never dreamt...
Here the voice of Hippolyte suddenly intervened.
"Allow me, Mr. Ivolgin," he said irritably. "What is the good of all this rigmarole? Pardon me. All is now clear, and we acknowledge the truth of your main point. Why go into these tedious details? You wish perhaps to boast of the cleverness of your investigation, to cry up your talents as detective? Or perhaps your intention is to excuse Burdovsky, by roving that he took up the matter in ignorance? Well, I consider that extremely impudent on your part! You ought to know that Burdovsky has no need of being excused or justified by you or anyone else! It is an insult! The affair is quite painful enough for him without that. Will nothing make you understand?"
"Enough! enough! Mr. Terentieff," interrupted Gania.
"Don't excite yourself; you seem very ill, and I am sorry for that. I am almost done, but there are a few facts to which I must briefly refer, as I am convinced that they ought to be clearly explained once for all. . . ." A movement of impatience was noticed in his audience as he resumed: "I merely wish to state, for the information of all concerned, that the reason for Mr. Pavlicheff's interest in your mother, Mr. Burdovsky, was simply that she was the sister of a serf-girl with whom he was deeply in love in his youth, and whom most certainly he would have married but for her sudden death. I have proofs that this circumstance is almost, if not quite, forgotten. I may add that when your mother was about ten years old, Pavlicheff took her under his care, gave her a good education, and later, a considerable dowry. His relations were alarmed, and feared he might go so far as to marry her, but she gave her hand to a young land-surveyor named Burdovsky when she reached the age of twenty. I can even say definitely that it was a marriage of affection. After his wedding your father gave up his occupation as land- surveyor, and with his wife's dowry of fifteen thousand roubles went in for commercial speculations. As he had had no experience, he was cheated on all sides, and took to drink in order to forget his troubles. He shortened his life by his excesses, and eight years after his marriage he died. Your mother says herself that she was left in the direst poverty, and would have died of starvation had it not been for Pavlicheff, who generously allowed her a yearly pension of six hundred roubles. Many people recall his extreme fondness for you as a little boy. Your mother confirms this, and agrees with others in thinking that he loved you the more because you were a sickly child, stammering in your speech, and almost deformed--for it is known that all his life Nicolai Andreevitch had a partiality for unfortunates of every kind, especially children. In my opinion this is most important. I may add that I discovered yet another fact, the last on which I employed my detective powers. Seeing how fond Pavlicheff was of you,--it was thanks to him you went to school, and also had the advantage of special teachers--his relations and servants grew to believe that you were his son, and that your father had been betrayed by his wife. I may point out that this idea was only accredited generally during the last years of Pavlicheff's life, when his next-of-kin were trembling about the succession, when the earlier story was quite forgotten, and when all opportunity for discovering the truth had seemingly passed away. No doubt you, Mr. Burdovsky, heard this conjecture, and did not hesitate to accept it as true. I have had the honour of making your mother's acquaintance, and I find that she knows all about these reports. What she does not know is that you, her son, should have listened to them so complaisantly. I found your respected mother at Pskoff, ill and in deep poverty, as she has been ever since the death of your benefactor. She told me with tears of gratitude how you had supported her; she expects much of you, and believes fervently in your future success..."
"Oh, this is unbearable!" said Lebedeff's nephew impatiently. "What is the good of all this romancing?"
"It is revolting and unseemly!" cried Hippolyte, jumping up in a fury.
Burdovsky alone sat silent and motionless.
"What is the good of it?" repeated Gavrila Ardalionovitch, with pretended surprise. "Well, firstly, because now perhaps Mr. Burdovsky is quite convinced that Mr. Pavlicheff's love for him came simply from generosity of soul, and not from paternal duty. It was most necessary to impress this fact upon his mind, considering that he approved of the article written by Mr. Keller. I speak thus because I look on you, Mr. Burdovsky, as an honourable man. Secondly, it appears that there was no intention of cheating in this case, even on the part of Tchebaroff. I wish to say this quite plainly, because the prince hinted a while ago that I too thought it an attempt at robbery and extortion. On the contrary, everyone has been quite sincere in the matter, and although Tchebaroff may be somewhat of a rogue, in this business he has acted simply as any sharp lawyer would do under the circumstances. He looked at it as a case that might bring him in a lot of money, and he did not calculate badly; because on the one hand he speculated on the generosity of the prince, and his gratitude to the late Mr. Pavlicheff, and on the other to his chivalrous ideas as to the obligations of honour and conscience. As to Mr. Burdovsky, allowing for his principles, we may acknowledge that he engaged in the business with very little personal aim in view. At the instigation of Tchebaroff and his other friends, he decided to make the attempt in the service of truth, progress, and humanity. In short, the conclusion may be drawn that, in spite of all appearances, Mr. Burdovsky is a man of irreproachable character, and thus the prince can all the more readily offer him his friendship, and the assistance of which he spoke just now..."
"Hush! hush! Gavrila Ardalionovitch!" cried Muishkin in dismay, but it was too late.
"I said, and I have repeated it over and over again," shouted Burdovsky furiously, "that I did not want the money. I will not take it... why...I will not... I am going away!"
He was rushing hurriedly from the terrace, when Lebedeff's nephew seized his arms, and said something to him in a low voice. Burdovsky turned quickly, and drawing an addressed but unsealed envelope from his pocket, he threw it down on a little table beside the prince.
"There's the money!... How dare you?...The money!"
"Those are the two hundred and fifty roubles you dared to send him as a charity, by the hands of Tchebaroff," explained Doktorenko.
"The article in the newspaper put it at fifty!" cried Colia.
"I beg your pardon," said the prince, going up to Burdovsky. "I have done you a great wrong, but I did not send you that money as a charity, believe me. And now I am again to blame. I offended you just now." (The prince was much distressed; he seemed worn out with fatigue, and spoke almost incoherently.) "I spoke of swindling... but I did not apply that to you. I was deceived .... I said you were... afflicted... like me... But you are not like me... you give lessons... you support your mother. I said you had dishonoured your mother, but you love her. She says so herself... I did not know... Gavrila Ardalionovitch did not tell me that... Forgive me! I dared to offer you ten thousand roubles, but I was wrong. I ought to have done it differently, and now... there is no way of doing it, for you despise me..."
"I declare, this is a lunatic asylum!" cried Lizabetha Prokofievna.
"Of course it is a lunatic asylum!" repeated Aglaya sharply, but her words were overpowered by other voices. Everybody was talking loudly, making remarks and comments; some discussed the affair gravely, others laughed. Ivan Fedorovitch Epanchin was extremely indignant. He stood waiting for his wife with an air of offended dignity. Lebedeff's nephew took up the word again.
"Well, prince, to do you justice, you certainly know how to make the most of your--let us call it infirmity, for the sake of politeness; you have set about offering your money and friendship in such a way that no self-respecting man could possibly accept them. This is an excess of ingenuousness or of malice--you ought to know better than anyone which word best fits the case."
"Allow me, gentlemen," said Gavrila Ardalionovitch, who had just examined the contents of the envelope, "there are only a hundred roubles here, not two hundred and fifty. I point this out, prince, to prevent misunderstanding."
"Never mind, never mind," said the prince, signing to him to keep quiet.
"But we do mind," said Lebedeff's nephew vehemently. "Prince, your 'never mind' is an insult to us. We have nothing to hide; our actions can bear daylight. It is true that there are only a hundred roubles instead of two hundred and fifty, but it is all the same."
"Why, no, it is hardly the same," remarked Gavrila Ardalionovitch, with an air of ingenuous surprise.
"Don't interrupt, we are not such fools as you think, Mr. Lawyer," cried Lebedeff's nephew angrily. "Of course there is a difference between a hundred roubles and two hundred and fifty, but in this case the principle is the main point, and that a hundred and fifty roubles are missing is only a side issue. The point to be emphasized is that Burdovsky will not accept your highness's charity; he flings it back in your face, and it scarcely matters if there are a hundred roubles or two hundred and fifty. Burdovsky has refused ten thousand roubles; you heard him. He would not have returned even a hundred roubles if he was dishonest! The hundred and fifty roubles were paid to Tchebaroff for his travelling expenses. You may jeer at our stupidity and at our inexperience in business matters; you have done all you could already to make us look ridiculous; but do not dare to call us dishonest. The four of us will club together every day to repay the hundred and fifty roubles to the prince, if we have to pay it in instalments of a rouble at a time, but we will repay it, with interest. Burdovsky is poor, he has no millions. After his journey to see the prince Tchebaroff sent in his bill. We counted on winning... Who would not have done the same in such a case?"
"Who indeed?" exclaimed Prince S.
"I shall certainly go mad, if I stay here!" cried Lizabetha Prokofievna.
"It reminds me," said Evgenie Pavlovitch, laughing, "of the famous plea of a certain lawyer who lately defended a man for murdering six people in order to rob them. He excused his client on the score of poverty. 'It is quite natural,' he said in conclusion, 'considering the state of misery he was in, that he should have thought of murdering these six people; which of you, gentlemen, would not have done the same in his place?'"
"Enough," cried Lizabetha Prokofievna abruptly, trembling with anger, "we have had enough of this balderdash!"
In a state of terrible excitement she threw back her head, with flaming eyes, casting looks of contempt and defiance upon the whole company, in which she could no longer distinguish friend from foe. She had restrained herself so long that she felt forced to vent her rage on somebody. Those who knew Lizabetha Prokofievna saw at once how it was with her. "She flies into these rages sometimes," said Ivan Fedorovitch to Prince S. the next day, "but she is not often so violent as she was yesterday; it does not happen more than once in three years."
"Be quiet, Ivan Fedorovitch! Leave me alone!" cried Mrs. Epanchin. "Why do you offer me your arm now? You had not sense enough to take me away before. You are my husband, you are a father, it was your duty to drag me away by force, if in my folly I refused to obey you and go quietly. You might at least have thought of your daughters. We can find our way out now without your help. Here is shame enough for a year! Wait a moment 'till I thank the prince! Thank you, prince, for the entertainment you have given us! It was most amusing to hear these young men... It is vile, vile! A chaos, a scandal, worse than a nightmare! Is it possible that there can be many such people on earth? Be quiet, Aglaya! Be quiet, Alexandra! It is none of your business! Don't fuss round me like that, Evgenie Pavlovitch; you exasperate me! So, my dear," she cried, addressing the prince, "you go so far as to beg their pardon! He says, 'Forgive me for offering you a fortune.' And you, you mountebank, what are you laughing at?" she cried, turning suddenly on Lebedeff's nephew. "'We refuse ten thousand roubles; we do not beseech, we demand!' As if he did not know that this idiot will call on them tomorrow to renew his offers of money and friendship. You will, won't you? You will? Come, will you, or won't you?"
"I shall," said the prince, with gentle humility.
"You hear him! You count upon it, too," she continued, turning upon Doktorenko. "You are as sure of him now as if you had the money in your pocket. And there you are playing the swaggerer to throw dust in our eyes! No, my dear sir, you may take other people in! I can see through all your airs and graces, I see your game!"
"Lizabetha Prokofievna!" exclaimed the prince.
"Come, Lizabetha Prokofievna, it is quite time for us to be going, we will take the prince with us," said Prince S. with a smile, in the coolest possible way.
The girls stood apart, almost frightened; their father was positively horrified. Mrs. Epanchin's language astonished everybody. Some who stood a little way off smiled furtively, and talked in whispers. Lebedeff wore an expression of utmost ecstasy.
"Chaos and scandal are to be found everywhere, madame," remarked Doktorenko, who was considerably put out of countenance.
"Not like this! Nothing like the spectacle you have just given us, sir," answered Lizabetha Prokofievna, with a sort of hysterical rage. "Leave me alone, will you?" she cried violently to those around her, who were trying to keep her quiet. "No, Evgenie Pavlovitch, if, as you said yourself just now, a lawyer said in open court that he found it quite natural that a man should murder six people because he was in misery, the world must be coming to an end. I had not heard of it before. Now I understand everything. And this stutterer, won't he turn out a murderer?" she cried, pointing to Burdovsky, who was staring at her with stupefaction. "I bet he will! He will have none of your money, possibly, he will refuse it because his conscience will not allow him to accept it, but he will go murdering you by night and walking off with your cashbox, with a clear conscience! He does not call it a dishonest action but 'the impulse of a noble despair'; 'a negation'; or the devil knows what! Bah! everything is upside down, everyone walks head downwards. A young girl, brought up at home, suddenly jumps into a cab in the middle of the street, saying: 'Good-bye, mother, I married Karlitch, or Ivanitch, the other day!' And you think it quite right? You call such conduct estimable and natural? The 'woman question'? Look here," she continued, pointing to Colia, "the other day that whippersnapper told me that this was the whole meaning of the 'woman question.' But even supposing that your mother is a fool, you are none the less, bound to treat her with humanity. Why did you come here tonight so insolently? 'Give us our rights, but don't dare to speak in our presence. Show us every mark of deepest respect, while we treat you like the scum of the earth.' The miscreants have written a tissue of calumny in their article, and these are the men who seek for truth, and do battle for the right! 'We do not beseech, we demand, you will get no thanks from us, because you will be acting to satisfy your own conscience!' What morality! But, good. heavens! if you declare that the prince's generosity will, excite no gratitude in you, he might answer that he is not, bound to be grateful to Pavlicheff, who also was only satisfying his own conscience. But you counted on the prince's, gratitude towards Pavlicheff; you never lent him any money; he owes you nothing; then what were you counting upon if not on his gratitude? And if you appeal to that sentiment in others, why should you expect to be exempted from it? They are mad! They say society is savage and. inhuman because it despises a young girl who has been seduced. But if you call society inhuman you imply that the young girl is made to suffer by its censure. How then, can you hold her up to the scorn of society in the newspapers without realizing that you are making her suffering, still greater? Madmen! Vain fools! They don't believe in God, they don't believe in Christ! But you are so eaten. up by pride and vanity, that you will end by devouring each other--that is my prophecy! Is not this absurd? Is it not monstrous chaos? And after all this, that shameless creature will go and beg their pardon! Are there many people like you? What are you smiling at? Because I am not ashamed to disgrace myself before you?--Yes, I am disgraced--it can't be helped now! But don't you jeer at me, you scum!" (this was aimed at Hippolyte). "He is almost at his last gasp, yet he corrupts others. You, have got hold of this lad "--(she pointed to Colia); "you, have turned his head, you have taught him to be an atheist, you don't believe in God, and you are not too old to be whipped, sir! A plague upon you! And so, Prince Lef Nicolaievitch, you will call on them tomorrow, will you?" she asked the prince breathlessly, for the second time.
"Yes."
"Then I will never speak to you again." She made a sudden movement to go, and then turned quickly back. "And you will call on that atheist?" she continued, pointing to Hippolyte. "How dare you grin at me like that?" she shouted furiously, rushing at the invalid, whose mocking smile drove her to distraction.
Exclamations arose on all sides.
"Lizabetha Prokofievna! Lizabetha Prokofievna! Lizabetha Prokofievna!"
"Mother, this is disgraceful!" cried Aglaya.
Mrs. Epanchin had approached Hippolyte and seized him firmly by the arm, while her eyes, blazing with fury, were fixed upon his face.
"Do not distress yourself, Aglaya Ivanovitch," he answered calmly; "your mother knows that one cannot strike a dying man. I am ready to explain why I was laughing. I shall be delighted if you will let me--"
A violent fit of coughing, which lasted a full minute, prevented him from finishing his sentence.
"He is dying, yet he will not stop holding forth!" cried Lizabetha Prokofievna. She loosed her hold on his arm, almost terrified, as she saw him wiping the blood from his lips. "Why do you talk? You ought to go home to bed."
"So I will," he whispered hoarsely. "As soon as I get home I will go to bed at once; and I know I shall be dead in a fortnight; Botkine told me so himself last week. That is why I should like to say a few farewell words, if you will let me."
"But you must be mad! It is ridiculous! You should take care of yourself; what is the use of holding a conversation now? Go home to bed, do!" cried Mrs. Epanchin in horror.
"When I do go to bed I shall never get up again," said Hippolyte, with a smile. "I meant to take to my bed yesterday and stay there till I died, but as my legs can still carry me, I put it off for two days, so as to come here with them to-day--but I am very tired."
"Oh, sit down, sit down, why are you standing?"
Lizabetha Prokofievna placed a chair for him with her own hands.
"Thank you," he said gently. "Sit opposite to me, and let us talk. We must have a talk now, Lizabetha Prokofievna; I am very anxious for it." He smiled at her once more. "Remember that today, for the last time, I am out in the air, and in the company of my fellow-men, and that in a fortnight I shall I certainly be no longer in this world. So, in a way, this is my farewell to nature and to men. I am not very sentimental, but do you know, I am quite glad that all this has happened at Pavlofsk, where at least one can see a green tree."
"But why talk now?" replied Lizabetha Prokofievna, more and more alarmed; "are quite feverish. Just now you would not stop shouting, and now you can hardly breathe. You are gasping."
"I shall have time to rest. Why will you not grant my last wish? Do you know, Lizabetha Prokofievna, that I have dreamed of meeting you for a long while? I had often heard of you from Colia; he is almost the only person who still comes to see me. You are an original and eccentric woman; I have seen that for myself--Do you know, I have even been rather fond of you?"
"Good heavens! And I very nearly struck him!"
"You were prevented by Aglaya Ivanovna. I think I am not mistaken? That is your daughter, Aglaya Ivanovna? She is so beautiful that I recognized her directly, although I had never seen her before. Let me, at least, look on beauty for the last time in my life," he said with a wry smile. "You are here with the prince, and your husband, and a large company. Why should you refuse to gratify my last wish?"
"Give me a chair!" cried Lizabetha Prokofievna, but she seized one for herself and sat down opposite to Hippolyte. "Colia, you must go home with him," she commanded and tomorrow I will come my self. "
"Will you let me ask the prince for a cup of tea?... I am exhausted. Do you know what you might do, Lizabetha Prokofievna? I think you wanted to take the prince home with you for tea. Stay here, and let us spend the evening together. I am sure the prince will give us all some tea. Forgive me for being so free and easy-- but I know you are kind, and the prince is kind, too. In fact, we are all good-natured people--it is really quite comical."
The prince bestirred himself to give orders. Lebedeff hurried out, followed by Vera.
"It is quite true," said Mrs. Epanchin decisively. "Talk, but not too loud, and don't excite yourself. You have made me sorry for you. Prince, you don't deserve that I should stay and have tea with you, yet I will, all the same, but I won't apologize. I apologize to nobody! Nobody! It is absurd! However, forgive me, prince, if I blew you up--that is, if you like, of course. But please don't let me keep anyone," she added suddenly to her husband and daughters, in a tone of resentment, as though they had grievously offended her. "I can come home alone quite well."
But they did not let her finish, and gathered round her eagerly. The prince immediately invited everyone to stay for tea, and apologized for not having thought of it before. The general murmured a few polite words, and asked Lizabetha Prokofievna if she did not feel cold on the terrace. He very nearly asked Hippolyte how long he had been at the University, but stopped himself in time. Evgenie Pavlovitch and Prince S. suddenly grew extremely gay and amiable. Adelaida and Alexandra had not recovered from their surprise, but it was now mingled with satisfaction; in short, everyone seemed very much relieved that Lizabetha Prokofievna had got over her paroxysm. Aglaya alone still frowned, and sat apart in silence. All the other guests stayed on as well; no one wanted to go, not even General Ivolgin, but Lebedeff said something to him in passing which did not seem to please him, for he immediately went and sulked in a corner. The prince took care to offer tea to Burdovsky and his friends as well as the rest. The invitation made them rather uncomfortable. They muttered that they would wait for Hippolyte, and went and sat by themselves in a distant corner of the verandah. Tea was served at once; Lebedeff had no doubt ordered it for himself and his family before the others arrived. It was striking eleven.

“您当然不会否认，”加夫里拉·阿尔达利诺维奇直接对全神贯注听着他讲话的布尔多夫斯基开始说，而布尔多夫斯基却对他惊讶得瞪着眼，并明显地处于强烈的慌乱之中，“您不会，当然也不想正式否认，您是在您尊敬的父亲和十等文官布尔多夫斯基先生即您的父亲合法结婚后过了整整两年才出生的。您出生的时间在事实上是太容易证实了，因此在凯勒尔先生的文章中歪曲这一事实，对您和您母亲来说是莫大的侮辱，这只能解释为凯勤尔先生本人的想象力太轻飘，他以为这样可以更能说明您的权利无可争议，也就能保护您的利益。凯勒尔先生说，他事先给您念过文章，虽然没有全念。毫无疑问，他没有给您念到这个地方……”
“没有念到，确实如此，”拳击手打断说，“但是所有的事实都是一位权威性人士告诉我的，我就……”
“对不起，凯勒尔先生，”加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇阻止他说，“请让我说。请相信，到时候还会谈到您的文章，那时您再作解释。现在最好还是按顺序继续说下去。十分偶然，在我妹妹瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜·普季岑娜的帮助下，我从她的好友，女地主妇维拉·可列克谢耶夫娜·祖布科娃那里得到已故的尼古拉· 安德列耶维奇·帕夫利谢夫的一封信，这是２４年前他从国外写给她的。在与维拉·阿列克谢耶夫娜结识以后，按照她的指点，我找了退役上校季莫菲·费奥多罗维奇·维亚佐夫金，他是帕夫利谢夫先生的远亲，当时是他的十分要好的朋友。从他那里我又得到尼古拉。安德列耶维奇从国外写来的两封信，根据这三封信，根据信中所写的日期和事实，没有任何反驳和怀疑的可能，可以确凿地证明，尼古拉·安德列耶维奇当时到国外去了（在那里连续ｇｒＴ年），布尔多夫斯基先生，那是在您出生俞一年半的事。您也知道，您母亲从来也没有离开过俄国……此刻我不想念这几封信。现在已经不早了。我只是宣布了起码的事实。但是，布尔多夫斯基先生，如果您愿意约定个时间，哪怕是明天上午到我部里会晤，并把您的证人（人数随便）以及鉴定笔迹专家带来，我也丝毫不怀疑，您会不能不相信我所说的事实是无可争议的真情。既然这样，那么这一件事当然也就不攻自破，自然而然终止了结。”
接着大家又是一阵骚动，人人显得极为激动。布尔多夫斯基本人突然从椅子上站了起来。
“如果是这样，那么我受骗了，受骗了，但不是受切巴罗夫的骗，而是很久很久前就受骗了；我不要鉴定专家，也不要证人，我相信，我放弃……１万卢布我也不要了……告辞了……”
他拿起帽子，移开椅子，准备离去。
“如果可能的活，布尔多夫斯基先生，”加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇温惋悦耳地留住他，“那么就再留哪怕５分钟。因为这件事还发现了几件非常重要的事实，特别对于你来说很有关系，无论如何是相当令人好奇的。照我看来您不能不了解这些事实，如果事情完全弄清楚，也许您本人会更感到高兴……”
布尔多夫斯基默默地坐了下来，稍稍低着头，仿佛陷于深深的沉恩之中。列别杰夫的外甥本来站起来打算送布尔多夫斯基的，现在紧随其后也坐了下来，他虽然没有张惶失措和失去勇气，但看得出来，显得十分困惑不解。伊波利特皱着眉头，忧心忡忡，仿佛非常惊讶。不过就在此刻他咳得十分厉害，甚至咯出的血都弄脏了手帕。拳击手则几乎惊惧不已。
“哎，安季普！”他苦恼地喊着，“我那时……即前天就对你说过，你可能真的不是帕夫利谢夫的儿子。”
响起了一阵有克制的笑声，有两三个人笑得比别人响。
“凯勒尔先生，刚才您所说的这一事实相当宝贵，”加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇接过话茬说，“然而，根据最确切的材料，我有充分的权利肯定，布尔多夫斯基先生虽然无疑十分清楚自己出生的时间，但是却根本不了解帕夫利谢夫先生曾经在国外耽过而且在那里度过了大半生、只是短期回国这一情况。此外，当时他去国外这件事本身也十分平常，因此在二十多年以后连跟帕夫利谢夫很熟的人也不记得这一点，更不用说布尔多夫斯基先生了，因为他那时还未出世。当然，现在要进行查询也不是不可能；但是我应该承认，我所得到的查询结果完全是很偶然搞来的，而且本来很可能搞不到；因此，对于布尔多夫斯基先生，甚至对于切巴罗夫来说，假如他们想要查询，那么这种查询也确实几乎是不可能的。但是他们可能也没有想到要……”
“请问，伊沃尔京先生，”突然伊波利特气乎乎地打断他说，“说这一大堆废话（请原谅）干什么？现在事情已经解释清楚了，我们也愿意相信主要的事实，何必还要把这令人难受和使人委屈的无聊事继续拖延下去呢？也许，您是想炫耀您调查手段之机灵，想在我们面前和公爵面前显示出您是多好的侦民包打听？或者因为布尔多夫斯基不知究竟卷进了这件事里，您打算原谅和开脱他？但是，阁下，这太胆大妄为了：布尔多夫斯基不需要您的辩解和原谅，但愿您知道这一点！他感到屈辱，他现在已够难受的了，他处境很尴尬，您应该估计到、理解到这一点……”
“够了，捷连季耶夫先生，够了，”加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇总算打断了他的话；“您镇静些，别使自己发火；好像，您身体很不好吧？我很同情您（这种情况下）如果您愿意，我就结束、也就是说，我不得不只是扼要地告诉你们那些我确认即使是了解全部详情也不为多余的事实，”他发现大家似乎不耐烦而有所动弹，便补充说，“我只想凭证据让所有与此事有关的人知道布尔多夫斯基先生，您的母亲之所以是唯一赢得帕夫利谢夫好感和关心的人，是因为她是尼古拉·安德列耶维奇·帕夫利谢夫在青春年少时爱上的那个婢女的亲妹妹，他当时爱得那么深，要不是她突然夭逝，他一定会跟她结婚的。我有证据表朋，这一完全确凿和可靠的家庭事实很少为人所知，甚至完全被遗忘了。下面我可以解释，您母亲还是个１０岁的孩子时就由帕夫利谢夫先生当作系属加以托养，给她拨出相当可观的款项作嫁妆，所有这些关心在帕夫利谢夫众多的亲属中产生了异常令人惶惶不安的传闻；他们甚至认为，他在跟自己抚养的女孩结婚，但是结果是，她按自己的意愿（我可以以最确凿的方式来证明这一点）嫁给了测地公务员布尔多夫斯基先生，那是她２０岁那年，我这里搜集了几件确切的事实可以证明，布尔多夫斯基先生，您的父亲根本就不是一个能干的人，他得到您母亲一万五千卢布的陪嫁以后，放弃了公务投身于商业，却受了欺骗，丢掉了资本，他经不住痛苦，便开始喝酒，结果就病了，最后过早就离世了，那是他跟您母亲结婚的第八年。后来，据您母亲亲口所说，她落得非常贫困，假如没有帕夫利谢夫经常慷慨地资助，每年提供给她６００卢布，她肯定早死了。后来有无数材料证明，他异常爱孩提时的您。根据这些材料又加上您母亲的证实可以得出结论，他爱您主要是因为您在童年时说话口齿不清，像个残疾人，一副可怜不幸的样子，而帕夫利谢夫，根据确凿的证据我认为，是个一生对所有受压迫的和生来就先天有缺陷的人，特别是孩子，怀有一种特别柔爱的心肠，这个事实，我确信，对于我，这件事是异常重要的了。最后，我凭所作的确切调查可以夸口说弄清了一个主要事实，即帕夫利谢夫对您的这种异常的关切怜爱（他设法让您进了中学并使您在特殊监护下进行学习）渐渐地终于在亲戚和家人中间产生了种想法，您是他的儿子，您的父亲只是个受骗的丈夫。但是，主要的是，这个想法是在帕夫利谢夫生前最后几年才加强并成为一种大家都接受的确凿无疑的观念而固定下来，这时大家都为遗嘱担惊受怕，而原始的事实却被遗忘了，查询又不可能。毫无疑问，这一想法也传到了您这儿。布尔多夫斯基先生，而且完全左右着您。我有幸亲自认识您的母亲，她虽然知道这一切流言蜚语，但是却至今还不知道（我也向她隐瞒了），您，她的儿子，居然还受这种流言的诱惑。布尔多夫斯基先生，我在普斯科夫见到您那令人尊敬的母亲，她正疾病缠身，在帕夫利谢夫死后陷于极为贫困的境地，她流着感激的眼泪告诉我，她现在靠您和您的帮助才活在世上；她对您的未来寄予厚望，并且热烈地相信您在未来会取得成就……”
“这实在叫人难以容忍！”突然列别杰夫的外甥不耐烦地大声宣称道，“所有这一切长篇大论干什么？”
“令人厌恶，不成体统！”伊波利特做着强烈的动作忿忿说。但布尔多夫斯基却什么也没说，甚至也没动一下。
“干什么？为了什么？”加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇狡黠地表示惊讶说，他已经准备好说出自己的结论，“第一，布尔多夫斯基先生现在也许能完全相信，帕夫利谢夫先生是出于慷慨大度才爱他，而不是把他作为儿子。布尔多夫斯基先生必须知道这一事实，因为刚才读了文章后他曾肯定并赞同凯勒尔先生。我之所以这样说，是因为我认为您是个高尚的人，布尔多夫斯基先生。第二，这件事原来根本不存在丝毫欺诈和欺骗，甚至连切巴罗夫也没有。这一点甚至对我来说也很重要，因为刚才公爵一时焦躁提到，似乎我也认为这件不幸的事是欺诈和欺骗。相反，这件事从各个方面来看都可以使人充分相信，即使切巴罗夫也许真的是个大骗子，但这件事中他顶多是个刁钻狡猾的讼吏，卖弄笔杆的墨客，图谋非利的小人。他作为律师企望榨取大钱，而他的盘算不仅精明、老练，而且极为可靠：他认准了公爵给钱出手松，认准了他对已故的帕夫利谢夫怀有感激敬佩之情，最后，也是最重要的，他认准了公爵在正直和良心的责任感这点上持有一定程度的骑士观点，至于说到布尔多夫斯基先生本人，那么甚至可以说，由于他自己深信不疑，因此完全受切巴罗夫和他周围一伙人的影响，以至他开始做这件事几乎完全不是为了得到利益，而差不多是将这件事看作是为真理、进步和人类效劳，现在，在告知了事实以后，大家想必明白，尽管有种种表面现象，布尔多夫斯基先生却是个清白的人，而公爵也会比原先更情愿更乐意向他提供友好的帮助以及刚才在谈到创办纪念帕夫利谢夫的学校时他所提出的实际的支持。”
“请停下来，加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇，请别说了！”公爵真正惊恐地喊道，可是已经晚了。
“我说了，我已经说了三遍了，”布尔多夫斯基气急败坏地嚷道，“我不要钱。我不会接受……为了什么……我不要……就是这么回事！……”
说完他几乎要从露台上跑下去。但列别杰夫的外甥抓住了他的手，对他轻声低语了什么。他很快又折了回来，从口袋里掏出一只未加封的大信封，将它丢在公爵旁边的小桌子上。
“这是钱！……不许您……不许您！……钱！……”
“２５０卢布，就是您竟敢通过切巴罗夫以施舍的方式寄给他的钱，”多克切连科解释说。
“在文章里说是５０！”科利亚喊道。
“是我不好！”公爵走近布尔多夫斯基说，“布尔多夫斯基，我很对不起您，但我绝不是作为施舍给您的，请相信我。我现在也不好，刚才也有不是。（公爵情绪很激动，看起来很疲惫、虚弱，说话也不连贯。）我说过欺骗的事……但这不是讲您，我错了。我说，您……像我一样，是个有病的人。但是实际上您并不像我这样，您……给人上课，您赡养母亲。我说，您败坏了您母亲的名声，但是实际上您是爱她的；这是她亲自说的……我不知道……刚才加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇没有对我说完……我有过错。我还擅自向您提供１万卢布，可是我错了，我本应该不以这样的方式来做，而现在……不能做了，因为您鄙视我……”
“这里真是所疯人院了！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜喊了起来。
“当然是疯人院！”阿格拉娅忍不住也尖刻地说，但她的活淹没在众人的喧哗声中，大家已经大声地谈起话来，人人都在议论，有的在争辩，有的在笑。伊万·费奥多罗维奇·叶潘钦已到了怒不可遏的地步，同时则又摆出尊严受到侮辱的神态等待着叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜：列别杰夫的外甥插嘴说了最后几句活：
“是的，公爵，应该为您说句公道话，您确实很善于利用您的……这么说吧，疾病（这样说体面些）；您以这样活络的形式提供您的友谊和金钱，使得任何一个高尚的人无论如何也不会接受它们。这样做要么是太天真，要么是太狡猾……您其实心里更清楚。”
“对不起，诸位，”加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇把装在信封里的一包钱打开，高呼道，“这里根本不是２５０卢布，总共只有１００。公爵，我是为了免得造成什么疑惑。”
“别管它，算了，”公爵朝加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇直挥着手。
“不，不能‘算了’，”列别杰夫立即盯住不放说，“公爵，您这一声‘算了’是对我们的侮辱。我们不会躲躲闪闪，我们公开宣布：是的，这里只有１００卢布、而不是２５０卢布总数，但是，这难道不一样吗……”
“不，不一样，”加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇故作莫名其妙的样子插话说。
“请别打断我；我们不是您认为的那种傻瓜，律师先生，”列别杰夫的外甥又气愤又恼恨地高声说，“当然， １００卢布不等于２５０卢布，不是一样的，但是重要的是原则；这里主动精神是首要的，而缺１５０卢布，这只是细节问题。重要的是，布尔多夫斯基没有接受您的施舍，阁下，他当面扔回给您，在这种意义上１００和２５０是一样的。布尔多夫斯基没有接受１万卢布；你是看到的；假若他不是个正直的人，那么他也不会带来１００卢布！另外１５０卢布是他在切巴罗夫到公爵那儿去的开销上。您尽可以笑我们不精明，笑我们不会办事；没有这些您也已竭尽全力把我们弄成极为可笑的人；但是不许您说我们是不正直的人。这１５０卢布，阁下，我们大家一起会付还给您的；我们哪怕是一个卢布一个卢布地也要还，而且要付利息。布尔多夫斯基是个穷光蛋，布尔多夫斯基没有百万家财，而切巴罗夫在出差后提交了账单，我们原指望会赢……谁处在他的地位会不这样做。”
“谁又怎么样？”ω公爵嚷了起来。
“我在这儿真要发疯了！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜喊道。
“这使人想起，”长时间站在一旁观察着的叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇笑起来说，“不久前那位律师的有名的辩护词。他的当事人欲抢劫而一下子杀害了六口人。律师却搬出他贫穷这一点作为理由，并一下子作了这一类的结论：自然，他说，我的当事人因为贫穷而冒出了杀害六口人的念头，处在他的地位谁不会冒出这种念头呢？’类似这样的话，只不过很可笑。”
“够了！”几乎气愤得打颤的叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜突然宣布说，“该中断这种胡言乱语了！……”
她激愤万分，威严地仰着头，摆出一副高傲、热切和急迫的挑衅姿态，用炯炯目光扫视着所有在场的人，此刻她未必区分开谁是朋友谁是敌人。这正是克制了很久但终于陡起愤怒的爆发，在这种时候渴求立即投入战斗、立即尽快地朝什么人扑去，成为主要的动机。了解叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜的人马上就感觉到，她发生了某种异常的情况。伊万·费奥多罗维奇第二天曾对出公爵说过，“她有时是会有这种状况，但是像昨天这种程度她却是少有的，大概三年发一次，无论如何不会更多了！无论如何不会更多了！”他为了使人明白添加了一句。
“够了，伊万·费奥多罗维奇！别管我！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜高声喊着，“您于吗现在才把您的手凑近来？您不会刚才就带我走；您是丈夫，是一家之主，如果我不听您的，不肯定，您应该揪住我这个傻女人的耳朵把我拖走。哪怕是为了女儿操操心！而现在没有您我们也找得到路，这种耻辱够我消受整整一年…… 等一等，我还想感谢公爵！……谢谢您的款待，公爵。而我却随便坐在这里听年青人讲话……这简直是卑鄙，卑鄙！这简直是乱七八槽，不成体统，连做梦也不曾见到过这种样子！难道他们这样的人很少？……别作声！阿格拉娅！别作声，亚历山德拉！这不关我们的事！……别在我身边转来转去，叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇，您使我讨厌！……这么说，亲爱的，您是在请求他们原谅，”她转向公爵，重又接着前面的话题说，“说什么‘是我不好，竟敢向您提供钱财’……你这张贫嘴有什么好笑的！”她突然又冲着列别杰夫外甥说，“说什么，我们拒绝钱财，我们是要求，而不是乞求！仿佛不知道，这个白痴明天就会到他们那里去向他们提供友情和金钱！你会去吗？去还是不去？”
“我会去的，”公爵心平气和地说。
“听到了吧！你也正是估计到了这一着，”她又转向多克托连科说，“现在钱就跟在你口袋里一样，所以你尽可以耍贫嘴来蒙骗我们……不，小伙子，去找别的傻瓜吧，我可是看透你们了……我看穿了你们的整套把戏！”
“叶莉扎维塔·普里科菲耶夫娜！”公爵大声喊着。
“我们离开这儿吧，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜，早就该走了，我们把公爵也带走，”ω公爵尽量平静地微笑着说。
小姐们站在一旁，几乎被吓坏了：将军则完全被吓坏了；所有的人都惊诧不已。站得远些的人暗良好笑，窃窃私语；列别杰夫脸上流露出极为欣喜的神色。
“夫人，不成体统和乱七八糟到处都可以找到，”列别杰夫的外甥相当窘困地说。
“可是不像这样的！不像你们现在这样的，先生们，不是这样的！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜像歇斯底里发作似的幸灾乐祸地接口说，“你们别管我，”她对劝说她的人喊叫着，“不，叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇，连您自己刚才也声称，在法庭上甚至辩护律师本人都宣告，因为贫穷而杀死六口人是最自然不过的事，那么真的世界末日来临了。我还没有听说过这样的立论，现在我是一切都明白了！瞧这个话也说不清楚的人，难道他不会杀人（她指着大惑不解地望着她的布尔多夫斯基）？我敢打赌，他会杀的！你的钱，一万卢布，他大概是不会拿的，也许是出于良心的考虑而不拿，而夜里他会再来井杀人，再从匣子里取走钱。也是出于良心的考虑而取走钱！这对他来说并不觉得可耻！这是‘高尚的绝望的冲动’，这是一种‘否定’，或者鬼知道是什么说法……去它的！……一切都反过来了，一切都颠倒了。一个姑娘在家里长大了，突然在街中间跳上了轻便马车，喊着：‘妈妈，前几天我嫁给了某个卡尔雷奇或者伊万内奇，再见了！，照你们看来，这样做也是好的暗？自然，也是值得尊敬的喏？妇女问题？瞧这个男孩（她指着科利亚），不久前他也在争辩说，这就是‘妇女问题’。即使母亲是傻瓜，你终究会像人一样对待她！……你们刚才进来的时候凭什么神气活现的？一副‘不许挡道，我们来了’的架势。‘把所有的权利都给我们，可是不许你在我们面前吭一声。把所有的恭敬，甚至过去也没有的敬意给我们，而我们将把你当作最下等的奴仆也不如！’一直在探求真理，维护权利，可是在文章中却又像异教徒那样诬蔑它。‘是要求而不是乞求，而且您不会从我们这儿听到任何感谢的，因为您是为了满足自己的良心才这么做的！’好一种德性呀：既然从你那里不会有任何感谢，那么么爵也可以回答你说，他对帕夫利谢夫没有丝毫感激之情，因为帕夫利谢夫的善事也是为了满足个人的良心。可是你算计的又恰恰就是他对帕夫利谢夫的感激之情，要知道，他既没有向你借钱，也没有欠你债，你不在他的感激之情上打主意又能打什么主意？你怎么能自己否定它呢？真是一群疯子！会被认为野蛮、不人道是因为它污辱了一个受诱骗的姑娘，可是既然你承认社会不人道，那么也就会承认这个社会使这个姑娘感到痛苦。而既然痛苦，那你自己又怎么在报上把她的事端到这个社会面前并要求她对此不要感到痛苦？真是一群疯子！一群好虚荣的疯子！不信上帝，不信基督！要知道，虚荣和骄傲把你们至蚀透了，结果你们便互相至蚀光，我这是预先警告你们。这不是乱了套了，不是乱七八糟，不是不成体统吗？可是发生了这一切之后这个不顾脸面的入竟还拼命求着他们原谅！像你们这样的人有许多吗？你们算什么，笑我跟你们在一起丢了自己的脸吗？我反正已经丢了脸，没有别的办法了！……你别笑，坏东西！（她突然冲着伊波利特喊着）自己都只剩一口气了，还要腐蚀别人。你腐蚀了我这个孩子（她又指了下科利亚）；他一个劲地说胡话夸你，你教他无神论，你不信上帝，简直可以打你一顿，阁下，去他们的吧！……这么说，列夫·尼古拉耶维奇，你明天要去他们那儿，去吗？”她几乎上气不接下气地又间公爵。
“我要去的。……”
“要是这样，我不想认识你了！”她本已很快地转过身走了，但又突然回来，“你要到这个无神论者那里去吗？”她指着伊波利特问，“你冲我笑什么！”她有点不自然地大声嚷着，受不了他那刻毒的冷笑，突然朝他扑去。
“叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜！叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜！叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜！”顿时四周响起一片呼声。
“妈妈，这多难为情呀！”阿格拉娅大声喊了起来。
“别担心，阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜，”伊波利特平静地回答说，叶莉扎维塔·晋罗科菲耶夫娜跳到他身边，抓住他，且不知为什么紧紧地抓住他的一只胳膊；她站在他面前，用疯狂的日光逼视他，“别担心，您妈妈会明白，不能扑向一个垂死的人……我愿意解释，为什么我笑……我将很乐意得到许可”
这时他突然拼命咳嗽起来，整整一分钟都未能平息。
“人都快要死了，还老是夸夸其谈！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜嚷着，她放开了他的胳膊，几乎是恐惧地望着他擦去自己嘴唇上的鲜血，“你还说什么呀！你干脆去躺着吧……”
“会这样的，”伊波利特轻轻地回答，他声音沙娅，几乎是喃喃着说，“我今天一回去，马上就躺下……过两个星期，据我所知，就会死的……上星期博特金亲自对我宣布的……所以，如果允许的话，我要对你们说两句话以作告别。”
“你疯了怎么的？尽胡说！应该治病，现在还说什么话！走吧，走吧，去躺着！……”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜惊惶地喊着。
“我会去躺的，可是就不会再起来了，直至死去，”伊波利特凄然一笑，“昨天我就已经想这么躺下，不再起来，直至死去，可又决定延迟到后天，趁两条腿还能撑得往……为的是今天跟他们一起到这里来……只不过已经很累了……”
“坐下吧，坐下吧，干吗站着！喏，给你椅子，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜急忙奔过去，亲自给他放了把椅子。
“谢谢您，”伊波利特轻轻地继续说着，“您请坐在对面，我们这就谈谈……我们一定得谈谈，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜，现在我可是坚持这一点的……”他又朝她凳尔一笑，“请想想，今天我是最后一次到外面来和跟人们在一起，而过两个星期大概就不行了。就是说，这好像是跟人们跟大自然的告别。我虽然不太易动感情，可是，你们瞧，这一切发生在帕夫洛夫斯克这里，我很高兴，因为毕竟可以看看树叶婆娑的树木。”
“现在还说什么话吗？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜越来越骇怕，“你浑身发烧。刚才叽哩叽哩尖声尖气说一通，现在勉强才能换口气，气都喘不过来了！”
“马上就休息。为什么您想拒绝我这最后的愿望呢？……您知道吗，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科匪耶夫娜，我早就已经怀着无论如何要跟您见一见的愿望了；我从科利亚那儿听说了不少有关您的事；他几乎是唯一没有撇下我的人……您是位独特的妇女，古怪的妇女，我现在亲自见到了……知道吗，我甚至有点喜欢您。”
“上帝啊，我刚才差点打了他，真的。”
“阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜阻止了您；我没有错吧？这是您女儿阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜？她是这么漂亮，我刚才一眼就猜到是她了，虽然过去从未见边面。请让我哪怕是活着最后一次看看这位美人，”伊波利特有点不自然地强笑了一下，“公爵也在这里，还有您丈夫，大伙儿都在。为什么您要拒绝我的最后愿望呢？”
“椅子！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗得菲耶夫娜喊了一声，但她自己抓了一把椅子，就在伊波利特对面坐下了，“科利亚，”她吩咐说，“你马上就与他走吧，送送他；明天我一定亲自……”
“如果您许可，我想请公爵给我一杯茶……我非常累。知道吧，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜，你好像想把公爵带到自己那里去喝茶，您请留在这儿，我们一起再度过些时光，公爵一定会给我们大家上茶的。请原谅我这样安排……但是我了解您，您很善良，公爵也是……我们大家都是善良得可笑的大好人……”
公爵非常惊恐不安，列别杰夫慌忙从房间里飞奔出去，维拉跟在他后面跑了出去。
“真的，”将军夫人断然决定，“你说吧，只是说轻些，别冲动。你真让我怜悯……公爵！你本来是不配留我在你这几喝茶的，可是就这样吧，我留下来，虽然我不想向任何人道歉！不向任何人！那简直是荒谬！……不过，如果我骂了你，公爵，那么就请原谅，……不过，假如你愿意的话，其实，我谁也不强留，”突然她异常愤怒地对丈夫和女儿们说，仿佛他们在什么事情上大大得罪了她似的，“我一个人到得了家的……”
但是没有让她讲完。大家都走近跟前，乐意地围住她。公爵马上恳求大家留下来喝茶，并且一再表示歉意，直到现在才想到这一点。连将军也非常客气，嘀咕着说了些劝慰的话，又亲切地问叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜：“在露台上是不是太凉了？”他甚至几乎要问伊波利特：“上大学是否很久了？”，但是他没有问。叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇和出公爵也突然变得殷切可亲、兴致快活，阿杰莱达和亚历山德拉脸上除了依然留有一丝惊讶，竟然也流露出满意的神色，总之，大家显然都为叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜的危机过去了而感到高兴。唯有阿格拉娅一人皱眉蹙额，默默地坐在稍远些的地方。所有其他的人也都留下了；谁也不想离开，连伊沃尔京将军也是，不过列别杰夫顺便对他低语了什么，想必是不大愉快的事，因此将军立即退居到角落里去了。公爵也走到布尔多夫斯基及其伙伴们跟前，一个也不遗漏地请喝茶。他们显出不自然的样子低声说要等伊波利特，便立即躲到露台最过的一个角落里去，又一起并排坐了下来。大概列别杰夫早就为自己准备好了茶，因此立即就端了上来。这时敲响了１１点。
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 26楼  发表于: 2014-01-17 0

Part 2 Chapter 10
AFTER moistening his lips with the tea which Vera Lebedeff brought him, Hippolyte set the cup down on the table, and glanced round. He seemed confused and almost at a loss.
"Just look, Lizabetha Prokofievna," he began, with a kind of feverish haste; "these china cups are supposed to be extremely valuable. Lebedeff always keeps them locked up in his china- cupboard; they were part of his wife's dowry. Yet he has brought them out tonight--in your honour, of course! He is so pleased--" He was about to add something else, but could not find the words.
"There, he is feeling embarrassed; I expected as much," whispered Evgenie Pavlovitch suddenly in the prince's ear. "It is a bad sign; what do you think? Now, out of spite, he will come out with something so outrageous that even Lizabetha Prokofievna will not be able to stand it."
Muishkin looked at him inquiringly.
"You do not care if he does?" added Evgenie Pavlovitch. "Neither do I; in fact, I should be glad, merely as a proper punishment for our dear Lizabetha Prokofievna. I am very anxious that she should get it, without delay, and I shall stay till she does. You seem feverish."
"Never mind; by-and-by; yes, I am not feeling well," said the prince impatiently, hardly listening. He had just heard Hippolyte mention his own name.
"You don't believe it?" said the invalid, with a nervous laugh. "I don't wonder, but the prince will have no difficulty in believing it; he will not be at all surprised."
"Do you hear, prince--do you hear that?" said Lizabetha Prokofievna, turning towards him.
There was laughter in the group around her, and Lebedeff stood before her gesticulating wildly.
"He declares that your humbug of a landlord revised this gentleman's article--the article that was read aloud just now--in which you got such a charming dressing-down."
The prince regarded Lebedeff with astonishment.
"Why don't you say something?" cried Lizabetha Prokofievna, stamping her foot.
"Well," murmured the prince, with his eyes still fixed on Lebedeff, "I can see now that he did."
"Is it true?" she asked eagerly.
"Absolutely, your excellency," said Lebedeff, without the least hesitation.
Mrs. Epanchin almost sprang up in amazement at his answer, and at the assurance of his tone.
"He actually seems to boast of it!" she cried.
"I am base--base!" muttered Lebedeff, beating his breast, and hanging his head.
"What do I care if you are base or not? He thinks he has only to say, 'I am base,' and there is an end of it. As to you, prince, are you not ashamed?--I repeat, are you not ashamed, to mix with such riff-raff? I will never forgive you!"
"The prince will forgive me!" said Lebedeff with emotional conviction.
Keller suddenly left his seat, and approached Lizabetha. Prokofievna.
"It was only out of generosity, madame," he said in a resonant voice, "and because I would not betray a friend in an awkward position, that I did not mention this revision before; though you heard him yourself threatening to kick us down the steps. To clear the matter up, I declare now that I did have recourse to his assistance, and that I paid him six roubles for it. But I did not ask him to correct my style; I simply went to him for information concerning the facts, of which I was ignorant to a great extent, and which he was competent to give. The story of the gaiters, the appetite in the Swiss professor's house, the substitution of fifty roubles for two hundred and fifty--all such details, in fact, were got from him. I paid him six roubles for them; but he did not correct the style."
"I must state that I only revised the first part of the article," interposed Lebedeff with feverish impatience, while laughter rose from all around him; "but we fell out in the middle over one idea, so I never corrected the second part. Therefore I cannot be held responsible for the numerous grammatical blunders in it."
"That is all he thinks of!" cried Lizabetha Prokofievna.
"May I ask when this article was revised?" said Evgenie Pavlovitch to Keller.
"Yesterday morning," he replied, "we had an interview which we all gave our word of honour to keep secret."
"The very time when he was cringing before you and making protestations of devotion! Oh, the mean wretches! I will have nothing to do with your Pushkin, and your daughter shall not set foot in my house!"
Lizabetha Prokofievna was about to rise, when she saw Hippolyte laughing, and turned upon him with irritation.
"Well, sir, I suppose you wanted to make me look ridiculous?"
"Heaven forbid!" he answered, with a forced smile. "But I am more than ever struck by your eccentricity, Lizabetha Prokofievna. I admit that I told you of Lebedeff's duplicity, on purpose. I knew the effect it would have on you,--on you alone, for the prince will forgive him. He has probably forgiven him already, and is racking his brains to find some excuse for him--is not that the truth, prince?"
He gasped as he spoke, and his strange agitation seemed to increase.
"Well?" said Mrs. Epanchin angrily, surprised at his tone; "well, what more?"
"I have heard many things of the kind about you ...they delighted me... I have learned to hold you in the highest esteem," continued Hippolyte.
His words seemed tinged with a kind of sarcastic mockery, yet he was extremely agitated, casting suspicious glances around him, growing confused, and constantly losing the thread of his ideas. All this, together with his consumptive appearance, and the frenzied expression of his blazing eyes, naturally attracted the attention of everyone present.
"I might have been surprised (though I admit I know nothing of the world), not only that you should have stayed on just now in the company of such people as myself and my friends, who are not of your class, but that you should let these ... young ladies listen to such a scandalous affair, though no doubt novel-reading has taught them all there is to know. I may be mistaken; I hardly know what I am saying; but surely no one but you would have stayed to please a whippersnapper (yes, a whippersnapper; I admit it) to spend the evening and take part in everything--only to be ashamed of it tomorrow. (I know I express myself badly.) I admire and appreciate it all extremely, though the expression on the face of his excellency, your husband, shows that he thinks it very improper. He-he!" He burst out laughing, and was seized with a fit of coughing which lasted for two minutes and prevented him from speaking.
"He has lost his breath now!" said Lizabetha Prokofievna coldly, looking at him with more curiosity than pity: "Come, my dear boy, that is quite enough--let us make an end of this."
Ivan Fedorovitch, now quite out of patience, interrupted suddenly. "Let me remark in my turn, sir," he said in tones of deep annoyance, "that my wife is here as the guest of Prince Lef Nicolaievitch, our friend and neighbour, and that in any case, young man, it is not for you to pass judgment on the conduct of Lizabetha Prokofievna, or to make remarks aloud in my presence concerning what feelings you think may be read in my face. Yes, my wife stayed here," continued the general, with increasing irritation, "more out of amazement than anything else. Everyone can understand that a collection of such strange young men would attract the attention of a person interested in contemporary life. I stayed myself, just as I sometimes stop to look on in the street when I see something that may be regarded as-as-as-"
"As a curiosity," suggested Evgenie Pavlovitch, seeing his excellency involved in a comparison which he could not complete.
"That is exactly the word I wanted," said the general with satisfaction--" a curiosity. However, the most astonishing and, if I may so express myself, the most painful, thing in this matter, is that you cannot even understand, young man, that Lizabetha Prokofievna, only stayed with you because you are ill, --if you really are dying--moved by the pity awakened by your plaintive appeal, and that her name, character, and social position place her above all risk of contamination. Lizabetha Prokofievna!" he continued, now crimson with rage, "if you are coming, we will say goodnight to the prince, and--"
"Thank you for the lesson, general," said Hippolyte, with unexpected gravity, regarding him thoughtfully.
"Two minutes more, if you please, dear Ivan Fedorovitch," said Lizabetha Prokofievna to her husband; "it seems to me that he is in a fever and delirious; you can see by his eyes what a state he is in; it is impossible to let him go back to Petersburg tonight. Can you put him up, Lef Nicolaievitch? I hope you are not bored, dear prince," she added suddenly to Prince S. "Alexandra, my dear, come here! Your hair is coming down."
She arranged her daughter's hair, which was not in the least disordered, and gave her a kiss. This was all that she had called her for.
"I thought you were capable of development," said Hippolyte, coming out of his fit of abstraction. "Yes, that is what I meant to say," he added, with the satisfaction of one who suddenly remembers something he had forgotten. "Here is Burdovsky, sincerely anxious to protect his mother; is not that so? And he himself is the cause of her disgrace. The prince is anxious to help Burdovsky and offers him friendship and a large sum of money, in the sincerity of his heart. And here they stand like two sworn enemies--ha, ha, ha! You all hate Burdovsky because his behaviour with regard to his mother is shocking and repugnant to you; do you not? Is not that true? Is it not true? You all have a passion for beauty and distinction in outward forms; that is all you care for, isn't it? I have suspected for a long time that you cared for nothing else! Well, let me tell you that perhaps there is not one of you who loved your mother as Burdovsky loved his. As to you, prince, I know that you have sent money secretly to Burdovsky's mother through Gania. Well, I bet now," he continued with an hysterical laugh, "that Burdovsky will accuse you of indelicacy, and reproach you with a want of respect for his mother! Yes, that is quite certain! Ha, ha, ha!"
He caught his breath, and began to cough once more.
"Come, that is enough! That is all now; you have no more to say? Now go to bed; you are burning with fever," said Lizabetha Prokofievna impatiently. Her anxious eyes had never left the invalid. "Good heavens, he is going to begin again!"
"You are laughing, I think? Why do you keep laughing at me?" said Hippolyte irritably to Evgenie Pavlovitch, who certainly was laughing.
"I only want to know, Mr. Hippolyte--excuse me, I forget your surname."
"Mr. Terentieff," said the prince.
"Oh yes, Mr. Terentieff. Thank you prince. I heard it just now, but had forgotten it. I want to know, Mr. Terentieff, if what I have heard about you is true. It seems you are convinced that if you could speak to the people from a window for a quarter of an hour, you could make them all adopt your views and follow you?"
"I may have said so," answered Hippolyte, as if trying to remember. "Yes, I certainly said so," he continued with sudden animation, fixing an unflinching glance on his questioner. "What of it?"
"Nothing. I was only seeking further information, to put the finishing touch." Evgenie Pavlovitch was silent, but Hippolyte kept his eyes fixed upon him, waiting impatiently for more.
"Well, have you finished?" said Lizabetha Prokofievna to Evgenie. "Make haste, sir; it is time he went to bed. Have you more to say?" She was very angry.
"Yes, I have a little more," said Evgenie Pavlovitch, with a smile. "It seems to me that all you and your friends have said, Mr. Terentieff, and all you have just put forward with such undeniable talent, may be summed up in the triumph of right above all, independent of everything else, to the exclusion of everything else; perhaps even before having discovered what constitutes the right. I may be mistaken?"
"You are certainly mistaken; I do not even understand you. What else?"
Murmurs arose in the neighbourhood of Burdovsky and his companions; Lebedeff's nephew protested under his breath.
"I have nearly finished," replied Evgenie Pavlovitch.
"I will only remark that from these premisses one could conclude that might is right--I mean the right of the clenched fist, and of personal inclination. Indeed, the world has often come to that conclusion. Prudhon upheld that might is right. In the American War some of the most advanced Liberals took sides with the planters on the score that the blacks were an inferior race to the whites, and that might was the right of the white race."
"Well?"
"You mean, no doubt, that you do not deny that might is right?"
"What then?"
"You are at least logical. I would only point out that from the right of might, to the right of tigers and crocodiles, or even Daniloff and Gorsky, is but a step."
"I know nothing about that; what else?"
Hippolyte was scarcely listening. He kept saying well?" and "what else?" mechanically, without the least curiosity, and by mere force of habit.
"Why, nothing else; that is all."
"However, I bear you no grudge," said Hippolyte suddenly, and, hardly conscious of what he was doing, he held out his hand with a smile. The gesture took Evgenie Pavlovitch by surprise, but with the utmost gravity he touched the hand that was offered him in token of forgiveness.
"I can but thank you," he said, in a tone too respectful to be sincere, "for your kindness in letting me speak, for I have often noticed that our Liberals never allow other people to have an opinion of their own, and immediately answer their opponents with abuse, if they do not have recourse to arguments of a still more unpleasant nature."
"What you say is quite true," observed General Epanchin; then, clasping his hands behind his back, he returned to his place on the terrace steps, where he yawned with an air of boredom.
"Come, sir, that will do; you weary me," said Lizabetha Prokofievna suddenly to Evgenie Pavlovitch.
Hippolyte rose all at once, looking troubled and almost frightened.
"It is time for me to go," he said, glancing round in perplexity. "I have detained you... I wanted to tell you everything... I thought you all ... for the last time ... it was a whim..."
He evidently had sudden fits of returning animation, when he awoke from his semi-delirium; then, recovering full self- possession for a few moments, he would speak, in disconnected phrases which had perhaps haunted him for a long while on his bed of suffering, during weary, sleepless nights.
"Well, good-bye," he said abruptly. "You think it is easy for me to say good-bye to you? Ha, ha!"
Feeling that his question was somewhat gauche, he smiled angrily. Then as if vexed that he could not ever express what he really meant, he said irritably, in a loud voice:
"Excellency, I have the honour of inviting you to my funeral; that is, if you will deign to honour it with your presence. I invite you all, gentlemen, as well as the general."
He burst out laughing again, but it was the laughter of a madman. Lizabetha Prokofievna approached him anxiously and seized his arm. He stared at her for a moment, still laughing, but soon his face grew serious.
"Do you know that I came here to see those trees?" pointing to the trees in the park. "It is not ridiculous, is it? Say that it is not ridiculous!" he demanded urgently of Lizabetha Prokofievna. Then he seemed to be plunged in thought. A moment later he raised his head, and his eyes sought for someone. He was looking for Evgenie Pavlovitch, who was close by on his right as before, but he had forgotten this, and his eyes ranged over the assembled company. "Ah! you have not gone!" he said, when he caught sight of him at last. "You kept on laughing just now, because I thought of speaking to the people from the window for a quarter of an hour. But I am not eighteen, you know; lying on that bed, and looking out of that window, I have thought of all sorts of things for such a long time that ... a dead man has no age, you know. I was saying that to myself only last week, when I was awake in the night. Do you know what you fear most? You fear our sincerity more than anything, although you despise us! The idea crossed my mind that night... You thought I was making fun of you just now, Lizabetha Prokofievna? No, the idea of mockery was far from me; I only meant to praise you. Colia told me the prince called you a child--very well--but let me see, I had something else to say..." He covered his face with his hands and tried to collect his thoughts.
"Ah, yes--you were going away just now, and I thought to myself: 'I shall never see these people again-never again! This is the last time I shall see the trees, too. I shall see nothing after this but the red brick wall of Meyer's house opposite my window. Tell them about it--try to tell them,' I thought. 'Here is a beautiful young girl--you are a dead man; make them understand that. Tell them that a dead man may say anything--and Mrs. Grundy will not be angry--ha-ha! You are not laughing?" He looked anxiously around. "But you know I get so many queer ideas, lying there in bed. I have grown convinced that nature is full of mockery--you called me an atheist just now, but you know this nature ... why are you laughing again? You are very cruel!" he added suddenly, regarding them all with mournful reproach. "I have not corrupted Colia," he concluded in a different and very serious tone, as if remembering something again.
"Nobody here is laughing at you. Calm yourself" said Lizabetha Prokofievna, much moved. "You shall see a new doctor tomorrow; the other was mistaken; but sit down, do not stand like that! You are delirious--Oh, what shall we do with him she cried in anguish, as she made him sit down again in the arm-chair.
A tear glistened on her cheek. At the sight of it Hippolyte seemed amazed. He lifted his hand timidly and, touched the tear with his finger, smiling like a child.
"I ... you," he began joyfully. "You cannot tell how I ... he always spoke so enthusiastically of you, Colia here; I liked his enthusiasm. I was not corrupting him! But I must leave him, too-- I wanted to leave them all--there was not one of them--not one! I wanted to be a man of action--I had a right to be. Oh! what a lot of things I wanted! Now I want nothing; I renounce all my wants; I swore to myself that I would want nothing; let them seek the truth without me! Yes, nature is full of mockery! Why"--he continued with sudden warmth--"does she create the choicest beings only to mock at them? The only human being who is recognized as perfect, when nature showed him to mankind, was given the mission to say things which have caused the shedding of so much blood that it would have drowned mankind if it had all been shed at once! Oh! it is better for me to die! I should tell some dreadful lie too; nature would so contrive it! I have corrupted nobody. I wanted to live for the happiness of all men, to find and spread the truth. I used to look out of my window at the wall of Meyer's house, and say to myself that if I could speak for a quarter of an hour I would convince the whole world, and now for once in my life I have come into contact with ... you--if not with the others! And what is the result? Nothing! The sole result is that you despise me! Therefore I must be a fool, I am useless, it is time I disappeared! And I shall leave not even a memory! Not a sound, not a trace, not a single deed! I have not spread a single truth! ... Do not laugh at the fool! Forget him! Forget him forever! I beseech you, do not be so cruel as to remember! Do you know that if I were not consumptive, I would kill myself?"
Though he seemed to wish to say much more, he became silent. He fell back into his chair, and, covering his face with his hands, began to sob like a little child.
"Oh! what on earth are we to do with him?" cried Lizabetha Prokofievna. She hastened to him and pressed his head against her bosom, while he sobbed convulsively.
"Come, come, come! There, you must not cry, that will do. You are a good child! God will forgive you, because you knew no better. Come now, be a man! You know presently you will be ashamed."
Hippolyte raised his head with an effort, saying:
"I have little brothers and sisters, over there, poor avid innocent. She will corrupt them! You are a saint! You are a child yourself--save them! Snatch them from that ... she is ... it is shameful! Oh! help them! God will repay you a hundredfold. For the love of God, for the love of Christ!"
"Speak, Ivan Fedorovitch! What are we to do?" cried Lizabetha Prokofievna, irritably. "Please break your majestic silence! I tell you, if you cannot come to some decision, I will stay here all night myself. You have tyrannized over me enough, you autocrat!"
She spoke angrily, and in great excitement, and expected an immediate reply. But in such a case, no matter how many are present, all prefer to keep silence: no one will take the initiative, but all reserve their comments till afterwards. There were some present--Varvara Ardalionovna, for instance--who would have willingly sat there till morning without saying a word. Varvara had sat apart all the evening without opening her lips, but she listened to everything with the closest attention; perhaps she had her reasons for so doing.
"My dear," said the general, "it seems to me that a sick-nurse would be of more use here than an excitable person like you. Perhaps it would be as well to get some sober, reliable man for the night. In any case we must consult the prince, and leave the patient to rest at once. Tomorrow we can see what can be done for him."
"It is nearly midnight; we are going. Will he come with us, or is he to stay here?" Doktorenko asked crossly of the prince.
"You can stay with him if you like," said Muishkin.
"There is plenty of room here."
Suddenly, to the astonishment of all, Keller went quickly up to the general.
"Excellency," he said, impulsively, "if you want a reliable man for the night, I am ready to sacrifice myself for my friend--such a soul as he has! I have long thought him a great man, excellency! My article showed my lack of education, but when he criticizes he scatters pearls!"
Ivan Fedorovitch turned from the boxer with a gesture of despair.
"I shall be delighted if he will stay; it would certainly be difficult for him to get back to Petersburg," said the prince, in answer to the eager questions of Lizabetha Prokofievna.
"But you are half asleep, are you not? If you don't want him, I will take him back to my house! Why, good gracious! He can hardly stand up himself! What is it? Are you ill?"
Not finding the prince on his death-bed, Lizabetha Prokofievna had been misled by his appearance to think him much better than he was. But his recent illness, the painful memories attached to it, the fatigue of this evening, the incident with "Pavlicheff's son," and now this scene with Hippolyte, had all so worked on his oversensitive nature that he was now almost in a fever. Moreover, anew trouble, almost a fear, showed itself in his eyes; he watched Hippolyte anxiously as if expecting something further.
Suddenly Hippolyte arose. His face, shockingly pale, was that of a man overwhelmed with shame and despair. This was shown chiefly in the look of fear and hatred which he cast upon the assembled company, and in the wild smile upon his trembling lips. Then he cast down his eyes, and with the same smile, staggered towards Burdovsky and Doktorenko, who stood at the entrance to the verandah. He had decided to go with them.
"There! that is what I feared!" cried the prince. "It was inevitable!"
Hippolyte turned upon him, a prey to maniacal rage, which set all the muscles of his face quivering.
"Ah! that is what you feared! It was inevitable, you say! Well, let me tell you that if I hate anyone here--I hate you all," he cried, in a hoarse, strained voice-" but you, you, with your jesuitical soul, your soul of sickly sweetness, idiot, beneficent millionaire--I hate you worse than anything or anyone on earth! I saw through you and hated you long ago; from the day I first heard of you. I hated you with my whole heart. You have contrived all this! You have driven me into this state! You have made a dying man disgrace himself. You, you, you are the cause of my abject cowardice! I would kill you if I remained alive! I do not want your benefits; I will accept none from anyone; do you hear? Not from any one! I want nothing! I was delirious, do not dare to triumph! I curse every one of you, once for all!"
Breath failed him here, and he was obliged to stop.
"He is ashamed of his tears!" whispered Lebedeff to Lizabetha Prokofievna. "It was inevitable. Ah! what a wonderful man the prince is! He read his very soul."
But Mrs. Epanchin would not deign to look at Lebedeff. Drawn up haughtily, with her head held high, she gazed at the "riff-raff," with scornful curiosity. When Hippolyte had finished, Ivan Fedorovitch shrugged his shoulders, and his wife looked him angrily up and down, as if to demand the meaning of his movement. Then she turned to the prince.
"Thanks, prince, many thanks, eccentric friend of the family, for the pleasant evening you have provided for us. I am sure you are quite pleased that you have managed to mix us up with your extraordinary affairs. It is quite enough, dear family friend; thank you for giving us an opportunity of getting to know you so well."
She arranged her cloak with hands that trembled with anger as she waited for the "riff-raff "to go. The cab which Lebedeff's son had gone to fetch a quarter of an hour ago, by Doktorenko's order, arrived at that moment. The general thought fit to put in a word after his wife.
"Really, prince, I hardly expected after--after all our friendly intercourse-- and you see, Lizabetha Prokofievna--"
"Papa, how can you?" cried Adelaida, walking quickly up to the prince and holding out her hand.
He smiled absently at her; then suddenly he felt a burning sensation in his ear as an angry voice whispered:
"If you do not turn those dreadful people out of the house this very instant, I shall hate you all my life--all my life!" It was Aglaya. She seemed almost in a frenzy, but she turned away before the prince could look at her. However, there was no one left to turn out of the house, for they had managed meanwhile to get Hippolyte into the cab, and it had driven off.
"Well, how much longer is this going to last, Ivan Fedorovitch? What do you think? Shall I soon be delivered from these odious youths?"
"My dear, I am quite ready; naturally ... the prince."
Ivan Fedorovitch held out his hand to Muishkin, but ran after his wife, who was leaving with every sign of violent indignation, before he had time to shake it. Adelaida, her fiance, and Alexandra, said good-bye to their host with sincere friendliness. Evgenie Pavlovitch did the same, and he alone seemed in good spirits.
"What I expected has happened! But I am sorry, you poor fellow, that you should have had to suffer for it," he murmured, with a most charming smile.
Aglaya left without saying good-bye. But the evening was not to end without a last adventure. An unexpected meeting was yet in store for Lizabetha Prokofievna.
She had scarcely descended the terrace steps leading to the high road that skirts the park at Pavlofsk, when suddenly there dashed by a smart open carriage, drawn by a pair of beautiful white horses. Having passed some ten yards beyond the house, the carriage suddenly drew up, and one of the two ladies seated in it turned sharp round as though she had just caught sight of some acquaintance whom she particularly wished to see.
"Evgenie Pavlovitch! Is that you?" cried a clear, sweet voice, which caused the prince, and perhaps someone else, to tremble. "Well, I AM glad I've found you at last! I've sent to town for you twice today myself! My messengers have been searching for you everywhere!"
Evgenie Pavlovitch stood on the steps like one struck by lightning. Mrs. Epanchin stood still too, but not with the petrified expression of Evgenie. She gazed haughtily at the audacious person who had addressed her companion, and then turned a look of astonishment upon Evgenie himself.
"There's news!" continued the clear voice. "You need not be anxious about Kupferof's IOU's--Rogojin has bought them up. I persuaded him to!--I dare say we shall settle Biscup too, so it's all right, you see! Au revoir, tomorrow! And don't worry!" The carriage moved on, and disappeared.
"The woman's mad!" cried Evgenie, at last, crimson with anger, and looking confusedly around. "I don't know what she's talking about! What IOU's? Who is she?" Mrs. Epanchin continued to watch his face for a couple of seconds; then she marched briskly and haughtily away towards her own house, the rest following her.
A minute afterwards, Evgenie Pavlovitch reappeared on the terrace, in great agitation.
"Prince," he said, "tell me the truth; do you know what all this means?"
"I know nothing whatever about it!" replied the latter, who was, himself, in a state of nervous excitement.
"No?"
"No?
"Well, nor do I!" said Evgenie Pavlovitch, laughing suddenly. "I haven't the slightest knowledge of any such IOU's as she mentioned, I swear I haven't--What's the matter, are you fainting?"
"Oh, no-no-I'm all right, I assure you!"

伊波利特在维拉·列别杰娃递给他的茶杯里润了润嘴唇，将茶杯放到小桌上，突然似乎涩促起来，几乎是困窘地环视着四周。
“您瞧，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜，这些茶杯，”他有点奇怪地急着说，“这些瓷杯，好像是精美的瓷器，总是放在列别杰夫餐具柜的玻璃门里，还上了锁；从来也不用……通常是这样，这是他妻子的陪嫁……他家这是惯例……现在他把它们拿出来给我们用，当然是表示对您的敬意，可见他多么高兴……”
他还想补充说什么，但是一时没有找到话。
“他到底不好意思了，我就料到是这样！”突然叶甫盖已·帕大洛维奇在公爵耳边低语说，“这可是危险的，是吧：这是极可信的一种征兆，表明他出了怨恨马上就会做出这样那样的古怪行为，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜大概会坐不住的。”
公爵疑问地瞥了他一眼。
“您不怕古怪的行为。”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇补充说，“要知道我也不怕，甚至还巴不得会有这种事；对我来说，其实就希望我们可爱的叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜受到惩罚，而且一定得在今天，马上就受惩罚，不然我就不走。您好像是在发烧。”
“以后再说，您别碍事。是的，我身体不好，”公爵心不在焉、甚至不耐烦地回答着。他听到自己的名字，伊波利特在讲他。
“您不相信？”伊波利特歇斯底里地笑着，“我知道就会是这样，可公爵一开始就相信了，丝毫也不惊奇。”
“你听见了，公爵？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜转向他问，“听见了？”
四周的人都笑着，列别杰夫忙乱地挤到前面去，在叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜面前转来转去。
“他说，这个矫揉做作的人，就是你的房东……为那个先生改过文章，就是刚才念过的针对你的文章。”
公爵惊讶地扫了列别杰夫一眼。
“你干吗不作声。”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶大娜甚至跺了一下脚。
“那又怎么，”公爵继续打量着列别杰夫，喃喃说，“我现在才知道，他是替他们改过的。”
“真的吗？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜很快地转向列别杰夫问。
“干真万确，将军夫人阁下，”列别杰夫把一只手贴在胸口，毫不犹豫地坚定答道。
“简直是在夸耀！”她几乎要从椅子上跳起来。
“我卑鄙，我卑鄙！”列别杰夫嘟哝着说，一边开始捶胸，一边越来越低地垂下了头。
“你卑鄙与我什么相干！他以为，他说了我卑鄙，这样也就可以解脱了。公爵，我再说一次，跟这样的人结交，你不觉得羞耻吗？我永远也不会原谅你！”
“公爵会原谅我的！”列别杰夫很有把握又很让人怜悯地说。
“仅仅是出于义气，”凯勒尔突然跳到跟前，直接对叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜大声响亮地说，“仅仅是出于义气，夫人，我才没有出卖名声不好的朋友，我刚才隐瞒了修改文章的人，尽管正是他提出要把我从楼梯上摔下去，正如您自己听到的。为了恢复事情的真相，我承认，我确实找过他，付了６个卢布，但绝不是要他润色，说实在的，是向他这个知情人了解事实，因为大部分情况我都不知道。关于鞋罩，关于在瑞士教授那里吃饭的胃口，关于５０卢布代替２５０卢布，总之，所有这桩桩件件，这一一都是他提供的，就为了６个卢布，但是不是润色。”
“我应该指出，”在越来越传播开来的笑声中，列别杰夫的一种曲意逢迎的声音迫不及待地焦躁说，“我只修改了文章的前一半，但是因为改到中间的时候我们意见不合，为了一个想法我们争吵起来，所以我就没有再改后面一半，因而那里所有文理不通的地方（那里确有文理下通的地方！），不能算丑我的头上……”
“瞧他忙着干什么！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜喊了起来。
“请问，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇问凯勒尔，“你们什么时候改文章的？”
“昨天早晨，”凯勒尔回答说，“我们见了面，双方都老实保证保守秘密。”
“当时他在你面前低声下气并要你相信他的忠诚！嘿，真是些小人！我不要你的普希金文集，你女儿也不要到我这儿来了！”
叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜本想站起来，但突然又气冲冲地对正在笑的伊波利特说：
“亲爱的，你是想让我在这里招人笑话，是吗？”
“千万别这么想，”伊波利特尴尬地微笑着说，“但最使我惊讶的是您的古怪脾气，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜，我承认，我是故意把话引到列别杰夫身上的，我知道，怎么才会影响您，影响您一个人，因为公爵确实会原谅的，而且大概已经原谅了……甚至，可能已经在脑袋里搜寻到了原谅的话，是这样吧，公爵，对吗？”
他喘着气，异常的激动随着他的每一句话而增强。
“呶？……”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜对他说话的口气感到惊讶，忿忿他说，“呶？”
“有关您的事我已经听了许多，都是这一类的……我非常高兴……很好地学会了尊敬您，”伊波利特继续说。
他说的是一回事，可是，他用这些话想说的似乎是另一回事。他说这话时带着一种嘲笑的口气，同时又激动得不合时宜，神秘地四处打量，显然颠三倒四，每句话都语无伦次，所有这一切连同他的肺病模样和怪异的仿佛发狂一般的灼灼目光，不由得仍然吸引着人们对他的注意。
“我不通世故（我承认这一点），不过，我十分惊讶的是，您不仅自己留在您认为是不体面的刚才我们那一伙入中，而且还把这些……小姐留下来听这种丑闻，虽然她们在小说里已经读到过一切。不过，我也许不了解……因为我说话离题了，但是不论怎样，除了您，谁会因为一个孩子的请求（是啊，是个孩子，我再次承认）而留下来……与他一起度过一个晚上并参与……一切……而且……第二天就感到羞耻……（不过，我承认，我要说的不是这样），我对所有这一切异常赞赏和深表敬意，虽然光凭您丈夫阁下的脸色就已经可以看出，这一切对他来说是多么不愉快……嘻嘻！”他哧哧笑了起来，完全语无伦次，突然又咳嗽起来，有两分钟无法继续说话。
“甚至都喘不上气来！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜冷漠而尖刻地说，一边用严峻和好奇的目光打量着他，“算了，亲爱的孩子，你说够了。该走啦。”
“请允许我，先生，向您指出，”突然伊万·费奥多罗维奇忍无可忍，怒冲冲地说道，“我妻子在我们的共同朋友和邻居列夫·尼古拉耶维奇这里，无论如何，年轻人，用不到您来评判叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜的行为，同样也不用您当着我的面大声地议论我的脸色表明什么。确实这样。如果我的妻子留在这里，”他继续说，随着每一句话火气也越来越大，“那不如说是出于惊讶和大家都能理解的当今的好奇心，想看看怪诞的年轻人。我自己也留下了，就像有时看见什么东西，有什么东西可以看就在街上停下来一样，比如……比如……比如……”
“比如看稀罕东西，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇提示说。
“好极了，对极了，”想不出比喻而卡住说不下去的将军阁下高兴地说“正是如看稀罕东西一样。但不论怎样，最使我惊讶、甚至痛心的是，如果译法上可以这样表达的话，您，年轻人，竟然不会理解，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜现在留下来跟您在一起，是因为您有病，既然您真的生命垂危，这么说吧，她是出于怜悯，是因为您说的那些可怜话，先生，因此任何污言脏语无论如何都不会砧污她的名声，品质和身份……叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜！”满脸通红的将军结束说，“如果想走，那么就跟我们善良的公爵告别。”
“谢谢您的教诲，将军，”伊波利特若有所思地望着他，严肃和出人意料地打断说。
“我们走吧，妈妈，还要呆多久！……”阿格拉娅从椅子上站起来，不耐烦和气忿地说。
“再等两分钟，亲爱的伊万·费奥多罗维奇，如果你允许的话，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜尊严地转向自己的丈夫说，“我觉得，他浑身在发烧，尽说胡话；我根据他的眼神深信这一点；不能这样撇下他。列夫·尼古拉耳维奇！今天不送他去彼得堡，可以让他住您这儿吗？ｃｈｅｒ ｐｒｉｎｃｅ＊，您觉得无聊吗？”不知什么缘故她突然问ω公爵，“到这儿来，亚历山德拉，把头发整理一下，我的孩子。”
她为亚历山德拉整理了一下没什么必要整理的头发，吻了她；叫她就是为了这点。
“我认为您在精神上是能发展的……”伊波利特从沉思状态中醒悟过来。又说起来，“对！我想要说什么，”他仿佛突然回忆起什么，兴奋地说，“布尔多夫斯基真心想维护自己的母亲，不对吗？结果他却使她蒙受了耻辱。公爵想要帮助布尔多夫斯基，出于一颗纯洁的心向他提供温柔的友情和金钱，大概，他是你们所有的人中唯一没有厌弃布尔多夫斯基的人，可是他们俩都像真正的敌人一样彼此势不两立……哈一哈一哈！你们全都敌视布尔多夫斯基，就因为在你们看来对待自己的母亲不体面，不优雅，是这样吗？是这样吗？是这样吗？因为所有你们这些人都十分喜爱形式的优美和高雅，只赞成这点，不对吗？（我早就料想，你们就只要这点！）好吧，那么你们要知道，你们中也许没有一个人像布尔多夫斯基那样爱他的母亲！公爵，我知道，您通过加涅奇卡暗中寄钱给布尔多夫斯基的母亲，我敢打赌（嘻一嘻一嘻！他歇斯底里地笑着），我敢打赌，布尔多夫斯基现在都要指责您采取的形式不得体和不尊敬他的母亲，真的是这样，哈一哈一哈！”
这时他又喘不过气来，咳起嗽来。
“怎么，完了！现在全说出来了，说完了？好了，现在去睡觉吗，你有烧，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗利菲耶夫娜一直不安地望着他，这时便迫不及待地打断说，“啊，天哪！他还在说！”
“您好像在笑吧？您干嘛老是笑话我？我发觉，您一直在嘲笑我，”突然他惴惴不安和气冲冲地对叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇说，而他确实是在笑。
“我只是想问您，先生……伊波利特……对不起，我忘了您的姓了。”
“捷连季耶夫先生，”公爵说。
“对了，是捷连季耶夫，公爵，谢谢您，您刚才说过了，可我却忘得一干二净……我想问您，捷连季耶夫先生，我听说，您认为，您只要从窗口向老百姓讲上一刻钟话，他们马上就会同意您的一切主张，而且立即跟在您后面，这是真的吗？”
＊法语：亲爱的公爵。
“非常可能，我是说过的……”伊波利特仿佛想起了什么，回答说。“肯定说过的。”他突然又补了一句，又活跃起来，坚定地望了一眼叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，“那又怎么样？”
“完全没什么：我只是想知道一下，补充一下情况。”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇不再说了，但伊波利特仍然望着他，不耐烦地等着他继续说。
“怎么样，说完了，是吗？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜问叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，“快点说完吧，老兄，他该去睡了。是不是不会结束？（她恼火得不得了。）”
“也许，我很不反对补充几句，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇微笑着继续说，我从您的同伙那里听到的一切，捷连季耶夫先生，还有刚才您以不容置疑的阐明的一切，据我看，可以归结为权利至上论，首先是权利，不顾一切，乃至排除一切，甚至可能在研究权利是什么之前就要求权利。也许我说得不对。”
“当然您锗了，我甚至不明白您说的……接下去呢？”在露台角落里也响起了絮语声。列别杰夫的外甥低声咕哝着什么。
“接下去几乎没有什么了，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇继续说，“我只想指出，从此出发事情可能会直接转到强权论上面去，也就是个人的拳头和个人的欲望的权利，其实，世界上很多事情就常常是这样告终的。普鲁东就是主张强权的。美国南北战争中许多最进步的自由主义者宣布自己拥护种植场主，业主认为，黑奴总是黑奴，是比白种人低等的种族，因此强权应属白人……”
“怎么呢？”
“也就是说，看来，您并不否认强权？”
“下面怎么说？”
“您真是个打碗沙锅问到底的人；我只想指出，从强权到老虎和鳄鱼的权利，甚至于到达尼洛夫和戈尔斯基是不很远了。”
“我不知道，再下去呢？”
伊波利特勉强听叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇说话。虽然他对他不时说“怎么样，“接着说”，看来，这主要是交谈中养成的老习惯，而并非是对谈话表示关注和好奇。
“下面没什么要说了……完了。”
“不过，我并不生您气，”突然伊波利特完全出人意料地收尾说。他未必完全自觉地递过手去，甚至还带着微笑。叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇起先感到惊讶，但马上就以最认真的样子碰了碰伸给他的手，就像接受对方的宽恕那样。
“我不能不补充，”他还是用那种又恭敬又不恭敬的语气说，“说一声向您表示感谢，感谢您对我的关注。允许我说话，因为，据我的许多观察来看，我们的自由主义者从来也不允许有自己的独特的信念，只要一听到有反对意见，马上就回之以辱骂或者甚至于更糟……”
“您说的这点十分正确，”伊万·费奥多罗维奇指出。他双手抄在背后，显示出极为无聊的的样子从露台退向出口，在那里烦恼地打了个呵欠。
“好了，你够了，兄弟，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜突然对叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇宣告说，“您都让我厌烦了……”
“该走了，”突然伊波利特忧心忡忡、几乎是惊惧地站了起来，局促不安地望着周围的人。“我耽搁了你们；我想把所有的话都对你们说……我想，最后一次了……所有的话……这是空想……”
看得出，他精神振奋是一阵一阵的，从那几乎是真正梦吃般的状态中突然解脱出来，仅仅一会儿，他是完全清醒地，一下子想起来什么就说起话来，多半是些片断，也许，这是病中躺在床上，在长久的寂寞中，在孤独和失眠则早已反复想过和记熟了的内容。
“好了，别了！”他突然断然说，“你们以为，我对你们说一声‘别了’容易吗？哈一哈！”他自己对所提出的尴尬的问题感到懊恼而讪笑着，突然，仿佛对老是辞不达意感到恼火，他大声和气乎乎地说，“阁下！我荣幸地请您参加我的葬礼，如果您肯赏光的话，还有……请诸位也随将军前往！……”
他又笑了起来；但这已经是发狂的笑声。叶莉维塔·普罗科菲耶夫则惊恐地走到他跟前，抓住他的一只手。他凝神望着她，还是那样笑着，但是笑声没有继续下去，仿佛在他脸上停住了，凝固了。
“您知道吗，我到这儿来是为了看看树木？就是这些……（他指着花园垦的树木）这不可笑吗，啊？可是这事一点也不可笑，是吧？”他一本正经地朝叶莉维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜，突然又沉思起来；接着，过了一会儿，他抬起头，好奇地用目光在人群中搜寻着。他找叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，后者正站在右边不远的地方，就在原来的地方，但他已经忘了，所以在周围寻找。“啊，您没有走！”他终于找到了他，“您刚才始终在笑话我想从窗口对老百姓讲一刻钟……您知道，我不是１８岁：我枕着忱头躺了这么多年，朝这窗口望了这么多年，各种各样的事情……想来想去……这么多年……死人是没有年龄的，您也知道。我还是在上星期才想到这一点，那天夜里我醒了……知道吗，您最怕什么？您最怕我们的真诚，尽管您蔑视我们！这一点我也是在那天半夜里躺在枕头上时想到的……您以为，我刚才想嘲笑您吗，叶莉扎塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜？不，我不是笑您，我只想称赞……科利亚说，公爵，您是个孩子……这很好……对了，我究竟……还想说什么……”
他双手捂住脸，沉思起来。
“瞧我想到什么了：刚才您告别的时候，我突然想，就这些人，今后会再也见不到他们了，永远见不到了！连树木也见下到了，剩下的将只是一垛红色的砖墙，梅耶尔的房子……就在我窗口对面……好吧，就把这一切讲给这些人听吧……你倒试试讲讲看；这位是美人……可是你却是个死人，就自己介绍是死人，说，‘死者什么都可以说’……玛里娅·阿列克谢夫娜*公爵夫人不会骂的，哈一哈！你们不笑？”他不相信地扫视着周围的人。“知道吗，躺在忱头上我想到过许多念头……要知道，我深信大自然是很会嘲弄人的……，您刚才说，我是个无神论者，要知道，这个大自然……你们为什么又笑了？你们太残酷了！”他打量着大家，突然忧郁而愤然地说，“我没有腐蚀科利亚，”他用的完全是另外一种语气，仿佛也是猛然想起似的，严肃而坚定地结束道：
“这里无论哪一个都没有笑你，没有，你放心！”叶莉扎维塔，普罗科菲耶夫娜几于是受着折磨，“明天会有新的大夫来；原来那个看错了病；坐下吧，别站着！你在说胡话……哎，现在拿他怎么办！”她张罗着让他坐到扶手椅里她的脸颊上闪烁着泪花。
伊波利特几乎是惊讶得愣住了，他抬起手，胆怯地伸过去，触及了那颗泪花，他像孩子般的嫣然一笑。
“我……您……”他高兴地说了起来，“您不知道，我……您……他总是异常欢欣地向我谈起您，就是他，科利亚……我喜欢他那种欢欣的样子。我没有腐蚀他！我只是使他没有变样……我想使大家都不变样，使大家，可是他们中没有这样的人，一个都没有……我想当个活动家，我有这个权利……。啊，我想做的事情大多了！我现在却什么也不想做，什么也不想做，我向自己发誓什么也不想做；就让人家去寻求真理吧，让他们没有我吧！是啊，大自然是嘲弄人的！为什么它，”他突然又激动起来说，“为什么它创造了最优秀的人，又为了以后嘲笑他们？它创造成这样，使其成为世界上公认的唯一完善的生物……它创造成这样，把它展示给人们看，又规定他说出，为什么要流这么多鲜血，如果一下子都流光，那么人们必会呛死！啊，我就要死了，这多好！也许，我也会说出什么可怕的谎言来，大自然是会这样作弄人的！……我没有腐蚀任何人……我想为所有的人的幸福，对发现和传播真理而活：……我望着窗外梅那尔房子的墙并想就讲一刻钟，并且要使大家，使大家信服，虽然没有遇上人们，可一生中就这么一次遇上了……你们！有什么结果呢？没什么！结果是，你们蔑视我！因此我就是个不需要的人，因此我是傻瓜，因此我就到时候了！我不会留下任何回忆！没有声音，没有痕迹，有一件事业，也没有传播过任何信仰！……别嘲笑一个愚昧的人！忘掉吧！忘掉一切……请忘掉，别这样残酷！您知道吗，要不是染上这肺病，我也会自己杀了自己……”
*《聪明误》一剧里有一句台词：“玛里娅·阿列克谢耶夫娜会怎么说。”后来这句话常用来代替人“人家会怎么说呢？”
他似乎还有许多话想说，但没有说完，倒在扶手倚里，手捂着脸，像孩子似的哭了起来。
“嘿，现在可拿他怎么办？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜高喊了一声，到他跟前，捧住他的头，把它紧紧地搂在自己胸前。他一抽一抽地哭着，“好了，好了！好了，别哭了，好了，够了，你是个善良的孩子，上帝原谅你的无知的；好了，够了，坚强些……再说，过后你会觉得不好意思的……”
“我家里，”伊波利特用力抬起头来，说，“我家里有弟弟和妹妹们，都很小，很可怜，天真无邪……她会把他们教坏的！您是个圣徒，您……自己是个孩于，救救他们吧！把他们从这个女人手里夺过来……她……羞耻，哦，帮帮他们吧，帮帮吧，上帝会为此给您百倍的奖赏，看在上帝份上，在基督份上“……”
“您倒是说呀，伊万·费奥多罗维奇，现在怎么办。”叶莉扎维塔·普科菲耶夫娜气乎乎地说，“您就费费心，打破您那架子十足的沉默吧！如果不拿主意，那么您就得知道，我就亲自留在这儿过夜，在您的专制下您把我虐待得够了！”
叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜激烈而又气愤地问，并等看迅速回答。是在类似的场合下大部分在场的人（甚至有许多人）都是以沉默不语、消极观望作答，他们丝毫不想把事情搅到自己身上，往往事后很久才表露自己想法。在在场的人中这里也有这样的人，他们准备在这里哪怕坐到第二天早晨，也不愿意落出一句话来，比如瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜，整个晚上她就坐在离人家稍远些的地方，不吭一声，始终怀着不同寻常的好奇心听人家讲话，这样做也许有她自己的原因。
“我的意见，亲爱的，”将军开口说，“现在这里需要的，这么说吧，是位护士，而不是我们的激动不安，大概，还需要有一位可靠的、头脑清醒的人陪夜。不论怎样，应该间一下公爵……并马上让病人休息。明天还可以再表示关心。”
“现在１２点，我们要走了。他跟我们一起走还是留在您这儿？”多克托连科气冲冲地问公爵。
“如果你们愿意的话，就留下来，你们可以陪他，”公爵说，“这儿有地方。”
“阁下，”凯勒尔先生出入意料和兴高采烈地跳到将军跟前说，“如果要求一个可以让人满意的人陪夜，我准备为了朋友作出牺牲……这是个多好的人啊！我早就已经认为他是个伟大的人，将军阁下！当然，我才疏学浅，但是，如果他批评起来，那可真是字字珠矶，字字珠玑呀，将军阁下！……”
将军绝望地转过身去。
“如果他留下来，我很高兴，赶路的话，当然他是困难的，”公爵对叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜气乎乎的问题作出表示。
“你睡着了怎么的？如果你不愿意，爵爷，我就把他带到自己家里！天哪！他自己也勉强站得住！你病了还是怎么啦？”
刚才叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜发现公爵并不是躺在床上奄奄一息，仅凭外表确实大大夸大了他那过得去的幢康状况。但是，不久的疾病、伴随它而来的痛苦的回忆，这个晚上忙忙碌碌造成的疲劳、“帕夫利谢夫儿子”事件、现在又是伊波利特事件——这一切刺激了公爵的疾病的感受力，确实使他达到了激狂的状态。但是，除此而外，在他的眼神中现在还有另一种操心，甚至害怕；他担心地望着伊波利特，仿佛等待着他还会弄出什么名堂来。
突然伊波利特站了起来，脸色苍白得吓人，变了样的脸上露出可怕的、绝望的羞愧，这尤其表现在他那敌视和恐惧地望着众人的目光中，表现在抽搐的唇间那茫然、扭曲、蠕动的苦笑中。他立即垂下眼，跌跌冲冲踉跄着，一直这样苦笑着，朝站在露台出口的布尔多大斯基和多克托边科走去，他要跟他们离去。
“哎，我害怕的正是这一点！”公爵高呼着，“事情就会是这样！”
伊波利特满怀着疯狂的仇恨很快地转向他，脸上的每一根线条似乎都在颤动和说话。
“啊，原来您怕的是这一点！照您看来，‘事情就会是这样？’那么您要知道，如果我仇恨这里的什么人，”他吼着，声嘶力竭，尖声尖气，唾沫飞溅，“我恨你们所有的人，所有的人！，但是您，您这个虚情假意、甜言蜜语的小人，白痴，百万富翁的慈善家，我更恨您，比世上所有的人和所有的一切都更可恨！我早就了解您和恨您了，当我还只是听说您的时候，我就怀着心中的全部仇恨来恨您了……现在这一切全是您造成的！这是您逼得我发火的！您把一个垂死的人羞得无地自容，我表现出卑鄙的怯懦是您的过错。是您！如果我能活下去，我会杀死您！我不需要您的慈善，也不接受任何人的善行，听到了吧，我不要任何人的任何恩赐！我是在说胡话，不许你们洋洋得意！……我永远诅咒你们大家！”
此时他完全喘不过气来了。
“他为自己流泪感到难为情了！”列别杰夫向叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜低语着，“‘事情就会是这样！’公爵说得真对！他看透了……”
可是叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜连瞧都没有瞧他一眼，她昂首挺胸高傲地站着，好奇而轻蔑地打量着“这些小人”。伊波利特说完的时候，将军曾耸了下肩膀；她愤怒地从头到脚端详着他，似乎是在询问他的动作有什么意思，但马上她又转向了公爵。
“谢谢您，公爵，我们家的怪朋友，谢谢您使我们大家过了一个愉快的晚上。现在想必您心里很高兴，因为您把我们也扯进您的这场闹剧中去了……够了，我家亲爱的朋友，谢谢，至少您让我们终于把您好好看清楚了！”
她气忿地整理起自己的披肩来，等待着“那一伙人”动身。这时一辆轻便马车驶近了“那一伙人”，那是一刻钟前多克托连科吩咐列别杰夫的中学生儿子去叫来的。将军马上跟在自己妻子后面插话说：
“确实，公爵，我甚至没有料到……在过去那一切之后，在种种友好的交往之后……最终，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜会……”
“怎么能这样，怎么可以这样！”阿杰莱达快步走到公爵跟前，向他伸出手，感叹地说。
公爵茫然地朝她笑了一下。突然一一阵热烈而迅速的低语简直像烧的了他的耳朵。
“如果您不马上甩掉这些卑鄙可恶的入，我会一辈子，一辈子恨您一个人的！”阿格拉娅低声说。她仿佛狂怒至极，但是还没来得及看她一眼，她已经转过身去了，其实，他已经没有什么也没有人可以甩掉了：当时他们已经把病着的伊波利特好歹安顿到马车上，马车接着就驶离了。
“怎么，伊万·费奥多罗维奇，这还要继续多久？您怎么看？我还要忍受这些可恶的小子要多久？”
“是啊，亲爱的……我当然愿意……还有公爵……”
然而伊万·费奥多罗维奇还是向公爵递过手去，但没来得及握手，就跟在愤愤然噎噎响地从露台上走下去的叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜后面跑了。阿杰莱达，她的未婚夫和亚历山德拉诚挚亲切地跟公爵告别。叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇也是这样，只有他一个人是快活的。
“果然如我所料！只不过遗憾的是，您这个可怜人这下可受苦了，”他带着最可爱的笑容低声说着。
阿格拉娅是不辞而别。
但是这天晚上的奇遇至此还没有结束；叶莉扎维塔·普罗种菲耶夫娜还必须得承受一次相当意外的路遇。
她还没有来得及从台阶上走到环绕公园的路上，突然一辆套着两匹白马的流光溢彩的轻便马车从公爵别墅旁奔驰而过。马车里坐着两位雍容华贵的妇人。但是马车驰过不到十步远又突然停住了；其中一位女士很快地回过头来仿佛突然发现了她所必须要找的某个熟人。
“叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇！这是你吗？”一个清脆悦耳的声音突然喊了一声，这声音使公爵，也许还使什么人颤粟了一下。“哦，我真高兴，终于找到了！我派人去城里送信，派了两个！找了您一整天！”
叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇站在台阶上像是被雷声惊呆了似的。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜也站在原地不动，但不像叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇那样吓得木呆呆的。她用五分钟前看那些“小人”那样的高傲和冷若冰霜的鄙视目光瞥了一眼这个毫无顾忌的女士，立即又把目光移到叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇身上。
“有个消息！”那清亮的噪音又继续说，“你不用为库普费尔手中的借据担心；罗戈任用三万卢布买了下来，是我劝他买的，你还可以哪怕安心三个月。至于跟比斯库普及那一伙坏蛋想必是能讲妥的，因为是熟人嘛！好了，就这么回事，也就是说，一切顺利。你就开心吧！明天见！”
马车起动，很快就消失了。
“这个疯女人！”
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 27楼  发表于: 2014-01-17 0

Part 2 Chapter 11
THE anger of the Epanchin family was unappeased for three days. As usual the prince reproached himself, and had expected punishment, but he was inwardly convinced that Lizabetha Prokofievna could not be seriously angry with him, and that she probably was more angry with herself. He was painfully surprised, therefore, when three days passed with no word from her. Other things also troubled and perplexed him, and one of these grew more important in his eyes as the days went by. He had begun to blame himself for two opposite tendencies--on the one hand to extreme, almost "senseless," confidence in his fellows, on the other to a "vile, gloomy suspiciousness."
By the end of the third day the incident of the eccentric lady and Evgenie Pavlovitch had attained enormous and mysterious proportions in his mind. He sorrowfully asked himself whether he had been the cause of this new "monstrosity," or was it ... but he refrained from saying who else might be in fault. As for the letters N.P.B., he looked on that as a harmless joke, a mere childish piece of mischief--so childish that he felt it would be shameful, almost dishonourable, to attach any importance to it.
The day after these scandalous events, however, the prince had the honour of receiving a visit from Adelaida and her fiance, Prince S. They came, ostensibly, to inquire after his health. They had wandered out for a walk, and called in "by accident," and talked for almost the whole of the time they were with him about a certain most lovely tree in the park, which Adelaida had set her heart upon for a picture. This, and a little amiable conversation on Prince S.'s part, occupied the time, and not a word was said about last evening's episodes. At length Adelaida burst out laughing, apologized, and explained that they had come incognito; from which, and from the circumstance that they said nothing about the prince's either walking back with them or coming to see them later on, the latter inferred that he was in Mrs. Epanchin's black books. Adelaida mentioned a watercolour that she would much like to show him, and explained that she would either send it by Colia, or bring it herself the next day-- which to the prince seemed very suggestive.
At length, however, just as the visitors were on the point of departing, Prince S. seemed suddenly to recollect himself. "Oh yes, by-the-by," he said, "do you happen to know, my dear Lef Nicolaievitch, who that lady was who called out to Evgenie Pavlovitch last night, from the carriage?"
"It was Nastasia Philipovna," said the prince; "didn't you know that? I cannot tell you who her companion was."
"But what on earth did she mean? I assure you it is a real riddle to me--to me, and to others, too!" Prince S. seemed to be under the influence of sincere astonishment.
"She spoke of some bills of Evgenie Pavlovitch's," said the prince, simply, "which Rogojin had bought up from someone; and implied that Rogojin would not press him."
"Oh, I heard that much, my dear fellow! But the thing is so impossibly absurd! A man of property like Evgenie to give IOU's to a money-lender, and to be worried about them! It is ridiculous. Besides, he cannot possibly be on such intimate terms with Nastasia Philipovna as she gave us to understand; that's the principal part of the mystery! He has given me his word that he knows nothing whatever about the matter, and of course I believe him. Well, the question is, my dear prince, do you know anything about it? Has any sort of suspicion of the meaning of it come across you?"
"No, I know nothing whatever about it. I assure you I had nothing at all to do with it."
"Oh, prince, how strange you have become! I assure you, I hardly know you for your old self. How can you suppose that I ever suggested you could have had a finger in such a business? But you are not quite yourself today, I can see." He embraced the prince, and kissed him.
"What do you mean, though," asked Muishkin, "'by such a business'? I don't see any particular 'business' about it at all!"
"Oh, undoubtedly, this person wished somehow, and for some reason, to do Evgenie Pavlovitch a bad turn, by attributing to him--before witnesses--qualities which he neither has nor can have," replied Prince S. drily enough.
Muiskhin looked disturbed, but continued to gaze intently and questioningly into Prince S.'s face. The latter, however, remained silent.
"Then it was not simply a matter of bills?" Muishkin said at last, with some impatience. "It was not as she said?"
"But I ask you, my dear sir, how can there be anything in common between Evgenie Pavlovitch, and--her, and again Rogojin? I tell you he is a man of immense wealth--as I know for a fact; and he has further expectations from his uncle. Simply Nastasia Philipovna--"
Prince S. paused, as though unwilling to continue talking about Nastasia Philipovna.
"Then at all events he knows her!" remarked the prince, after a moment's silence.
"Oh, that may be. He may have known her some time ago--two or three years, at least. He used to know Totski. But it is impossible that there should be any intimacy between them. She has not even been in the place--many people don't even know that she has returned from Moscow! I have only observed her carriage about for the last three days or so."
"It's a lovely carriage," said Adelaida.
"Yes, it was a beautiful turn-out, certainly!"
The visitors left the house, however, on no less friendly terms than before. But the visit was of the greatest importance to the prince, from his own point of view. Admitting that he had his suspicions, from the moment of the occurrence of last night, perhaps even before, that Nastasia had some mysterious end in view, yet this visit confirmed his suspicions and justified his fears. It was all clear to him; Prince S. was wrong, perhaps, in his view of the matter, but he was somewhere near the truth, and was right in so far as that he understood there to be an intrigue of some sort going on. Perhaps Prince S. saw it all more clearly than he had allowed his hearers to understand. At all events, nothing could be plainer than that he and Adelaida had come for the express purpose of obtaining explanations, and that they suspected him of being concerned in the affair. And if all this were so, then SHE must have some terrible object in view! What was it? There was no stopping HER, as Muishkin knew from experience, in the performance of anything she had set her mind on! "Oh, she is mad, mad!" thought the poor prince.
But there were many other puzzling occurrences that day, which required immediate explanation, and the prince felt very sad. A visit from Vera Lebedeff distracted him a little. She brought the infant Lubotchka with her as usual, and talked cheerfully for some time. Then came her younger sister, and later the brother, who attended a school close by. He informed Muishkin that his father had lately found a new interpretation of the star called "wormwood," which fell upon the water-springs, as described in the Apocalypse. He had decided that it meant the network of railroads spread over the face of Europe at the present time. The prince refused to believe that Lebedeff could have given such an interpretation, and they decided to ask him about it at the earliest opportunity. Vera related how Keller had taken up his abode with them on the previous evening. She thought he would remain for some time, as he was greatly pleased with the society of General Ivolgin and of the whole family. But he declared that he had only come to them in order to complete his education! The prince always enjoyed the company of Lebedeff's children, and today it was especially welcome, for Colia did not appear all day. Early that morning he had started for Petersburg. Lebedeff also was away on business. But Gavrila Ardalionovitch had promised to visit Muishkin, who eagerly awaited his coming.
About seven in the evening, soon after dinner, he arrived. At the first glance it struck the prince that he, at any rate, must know all the details of last night's affair. Indeed, it would have been impossible for him to remain in ignorance considering the intimate relationship between him, Varvara Ardalionovna, and Ptitsin. But although he and the prince were intimate, in a sense, and although the latter had placed the Burdovsky affair in his hands-and this was not the only mark of confidence he had received--it seemed curious how many matters there were that were tacitly avoided in their conversations. Muishkin thought that Gania at times appeared to desire more cordiality and frankness. It was apparent now, when he entered, that he, was convinced that the moment for breaking the ice between them had come at last.
But all the same Gania was in haste, for his sister was waiting at Lebedeff's to consult him on an urgent matter of business. If he had anticipated impatient questions, or impulsive confidences, he was soon undeceived. The prince was thoughtful, reserved, even a little absent-minded, and asked none of the questions--one in particular--that Gania had expected. So he imitated the prince's demeanour, and talked fast and brilliantly upon all subjects but the one on which their thoughts were engaged. Among other things Gania told his host that Nastasia Philipovna had been only four days in Pavlofsk, and that everyone was talking about her already. She was staying with Daria Alexeyevna, in an ugly little house in Mattrossky Street, but drove about in the smartest carriage in the place. A crowd of followers had pursued her from the first, young and old. Some escorted her on horse-back when she took the air in her carriage.
She was as capricious as ever in the choice of her acquaintances, and admitted few into her narrow circle. Yet she already had a numerous following and many champions on whom she could depend in time of need. One gentleman on his holiday had broken off his engagement on her account, and an old general had quarrelled with his only son for the same reason.
She was accompanied sometimes in her carriage by a girl of sixteen, a distant relative of her hostess. This young lady sang very well; in fact, her music had given a kind of notoriety to their little house. Nastasia, however, was behaving with great discretion on the whole. She dressed quietly, though with such taste as to drive all the ladies in Pavlofsk mad with envy, of that, as well as of her beauty and her carriage and horses.
"As for yesterday's episode," continued Gania, "of course it was pre-arranged." Here he paused, as though expecting to be asked how he knew that. But the prince did not inquire. Concerning Evgenie Pavlovitch, Gania stated, without being asked, that he believed the former had not known Nastasia Philipovna in past years, but that he had probably been introduced to her by somebody in the park during these four days. As to the question of the IOU's she had spoken of, there might easily be something in that; for though Evgenie was undoubtedly a man of wealth, yet certain of his affairs were equally undoubtedly in disorder. Arrived at this interesting point, Gania suddenly broke off, and said no more about Nastasia's prank of the previous evening.
At last Varvara Ardalionovna came in search of her brother, and remained for a few minutes. Without Muishkin's asking her, she informed him that Evgenie Pavlovitch was spending the day in Petersburg, and perhaps would remain there over tomorrow; and that her husband had also gone to town, probably in connection with Evgenie Pavlovitch's affairs.
"Lizabetha Prokofievna is in a really fiendish temper today," she added, as she went out, "but the most curious thing is that Aglaya has quarrelled with her whole family; not only with her father and mother, but with her sisters also. It is not a good sign." She said all this quite casually, though it was extremely important in the eyes of the prince, and went off with her brother. Regarding the episode of "Pavlicheff's son," Gania had been absolutely silent, partly from a kind of false modesty, partly, perhaps, to "spare the prince's feelings." The latter, however, thanked him again for the trouble he had taken in the affair.
Muishkin was glad enough to be left alone. He went out of the garden, crossed the road, and entered the park. He wished to reflect, and to make up his mind as to a certain "step." This step was one of those things, however, which are not thought out, as a rule, but decided for or against hastily, and without much reflection. The fact is, he felt a longing to leave all this and go away--go anywhere, if only it were far enough, and at once, without bidding farewell to anyone. He felt a presentiment that if he remained but a few days more in this place, and among these people, he would be fixed there irrevocably and permanently. However, in a very few minutes he decided that to run away was impossible; that it would be cowardly; that great problems lay before him, and that he had no right to leave them unsolved, or at least to refuse to give all his energy and strength to the attempt to solve them. Having come to this determination, he turned and went home, his walk having lasted less than a quarter of an hour. At that moment he was thoroughly unhappy.
Lebedeff had not returned, so towards evening Keller managed to penetrate into the prince's apartments. He was not drunk, but in a confidential and talkative mood. He announced that he had come to tell the story of his life to Muishkin, and had only remained at Pavlofsk for that purpose. There was no means of turning him out; nothing short of an earthquake would have removed him.
In the manner of one with long hours before him, he began his history; but after a few incoherent words he jumped to the conclusion, which was that "having ceased to believe in God Almighty, he had lost every vestige of morality, and had gone so far as to commit a theft." "Could you imagine such a thing?" said he.
"Listen to me, Keller," returned the prince. "If I were in your place, I should not acknowledge that unless it were absolutely necessary for some reason. But perhaps you are making yourself out to be worse than you are, purposely?"
"I should tell it to no one but yourself, prince, and I only name it now as a help to my soul's evolution. When I die, that secret will die with me! But, excellency, if you knew, if you only had the least idea, how difficult it is to get money nowadays! Where to find it is the question. Ask for a loan, the answer is always the same: 'Give us gold, jewels, or diamonds, and it will be quite easy.' Exactly what one has not got! Can you picture that to yourself? I got angry at last, and said, 'I suppose you would accept emeralds?' 'Certainly, we accept emeralds with pleasure. Yes!' 'Well, that's all right,' said I. 'Go to the devil, you den of thieves!' And with that I seized my hat, and walked out."
"Had you any emeralds?" asked the prince.
"What? I have emeralds? Oh, prince! with what simplicity, with what almost pastoral simplicity, you look upon life!"
Could not something be made of this man under good influences? asked the prince of himself, for he began to feel a kind of pity for his visitor. He thought little of the value of his own personal influence, not from a sense of humility, but from his peculiar way of looking at things in general. Imperceptibly the conversation grew more animated and more interesting, so that neither of the two felt anxious to bring it to a close. Keller confessed, with apparent sincerity, to having been guilty of many acts of such a nature that it astonished the prince that he could mention them, even to him. At every fresh avowal he professed the deepest repentance, and described himself as being "bathed in tears"; but this did not prevent him from putting on a boastful air at times, and some of his stories were so absurdly comical that both he and the prince laughed like madmen.
"One point in your favour is that you seem to have a child-like mind, and extreme truthfulness," said the prince at last. "Do you know that that atones for much?"
"I am assuredly noble-minded, and chivalrous to a degree!" said Keller, much softened. "But, do you know, this nobility of mind exists in a dream, if one may put it so? It never appears in practice or deed. Now, why is that? I can never understand."
"Do not despair. I think we may say without fear of deceiving ourselves, that you have now given a fairly exact account of your life. I, at least, think it would be impossible to add much to what you have just told me."
"Impossible?" cried Keller, almost pityingly. "Oh prince, how little you really seem to understand human nature!"
"Is there really much more to be added?" asked the prince, with mild surprise. "Well, what is it you really want of me? Speak out; tell me why you came to make your confession to me?"
"What did I want? Well, to begin with, it is good to meet a man like you. It is a pleasure to talk over my faults with you. I know you for one of the best of men ... and then ... then ..."
He hesitated, and appeared so much embarrassed that the prince helped him out.
"Then you wanted me to lend you money?"
The words were spoken in a grave tone, and even somewhat shyly.
Keller started, gave an astonished look at the speaker, and thumped the table with his fist.
"Well, prince, that's enough to knock me down! It astounds me! Here you are, as simple and innocent as a knight of the golden age, and yet ... yet ... you read a man's soul like a psychologist! Now, do explain it to me, prince, because I ... I really do not understand! ... Of course, my aim was to borrow money all along, and you ... you asked the question as if there was nothing blameable in it--as if you thought it quite natural."
"Yes ... from you it is quite natural."
"And you are not offended?"
"Why should I be offended?"
"Well, just listen, prince. I remained here last evening, partly because I have a great admiration for the French archbishop Bourdaloue. I enjoyed a discussion over him till three o'clock in the morning, with Lebedeff; and then ... then--I swear by all I hold sacred that I am telling you the truth--then I wished to develop my soul in this frank and heartfelt confession to you. This was my thought as I was sobbing myself to sleep at dawn. Just as I was losing consciousness, tears in my soul, tears on my face (I remember how I lay there sobbing), an idea from hell struck me. 'Why not, after confessing, borrow money from him?' You see, this confession was a kind of masterstroke; I intended to use it as a means to your good grace and favour--and then--then I meant to walk off with a hundred and fifty roubles. Now, do you not call that base?"
"It is hardly an exact statement of the case," said the prince in reply. "You have confused your motives and ideas, as I need scarcely say too often happens to myself. I can assure you, Keller, I reproach myself bitterly for it sometimes. When you were talking just now I seemed to be listening to something about myself. At times I have imagined that all men were the same," he continued earnestly, for he appeared to be much interested in the conversation, "and that consoled me in a certain degree, for a DOUBLE motive is a thing most difficult to fight against. I have tried, and I know. God knows whence they arise, these ideas that you speak of as base. I fear these double motives more than ever just now, but I am not your judge, and in my opinion it is going too far to give the name of baseness to it--what do you think? You were going to employ your tears as a ruse in order to borrow money, but you also say--in fact, you have sworn to the fact-- that independently of this your confession was made with an honourable motive. As for the money, you want it for drink, do you not? After your confession, that is weakness, of course; but, after all, how can anyone give up a bad habit at a moment's notice? It is impossible. What can we do? It is best, I think, to leave the matter to your own conscience. How does it seem to you?" As he concluded the prince looked curiously at Keller; evidently this problem of double motives had often been considered by him before.
"Well, how anybody can call you an idiot after that, is more than I can understand!" cried the boxer.
The prince reddened slightly.
"Bourdaloue, the archbishop, would not have spared a man like me," Keller continued, "but you, you have judged me with humanity. To show how grateful I am, and as a punishment, I will not accept a hundred and fifty roubles. Give me twenty-five--that will be enough; it is all I really need, for a fortnight at least. I will not ask you for more for a fortnight. I should like to have given Agatha a present, but she does not really deserve it. Oh, my dear prince, God bless you!"
At this moment Lebedeff appeared, having just arrived from Petersburg. He frowned when he saw the twenty-five rouble note in Keller's hand, but the latter, having got the money, went away at once. Lebedeff began to abuse him.
"You are unjust; I found him sincerely repentant," observed the prince, after listening for a time.
"What is the good of repentance like that? It is the same exactly as mine yesterday, when I said, 'I am base, I am base,'--words, and nothing more!"
"Then they were only words on your part? I thought, on the contrary..."
"Well, I don't mind telling you the truth--you only! Because you see through a man somehow. Words and actions, truth and falsehood, are all jumbled up together in me, and yet I am perfectly sincere. I feel the deepest repentance, believe it or not, as you choose; but words and lies come out in the infernal craving to get the better of other people. It is always there--the notion of cheating people, and of using my repentant tears to my own advantage! I assure you this is the truth, prince! I would not tell any other man for the world! He would laugh and jeer at me--but you, you judge a man humanely."
"Why, Keller said the same thing to me nearly word for word a few minutes ago!" cried Muishkin. "And you both seem inclined to boast about it! You astonish me, but I think he is more sincere than you, for you make a regular trade of it. Oh, don't put on that pathetic expression, and don't put your hand on your heart! Have you anything to say to me? You have not come for nothing..."
Lebedeff grinned and wriggled.
"I have been waiting all day for you, because I want to ask you a question; and, for once in your life, please tell me the truth at once. Had you anything to do with that affair of the carriage yesterday?"
Lebedeff began to grin again, rubbed his hands, sneezed, but spoke not a word in reply.
"I see you had something to do with it."
"Indirectly, quite indirectly! I am speaking the truth--I am indeed! I merely told a certain person that I had people in my house, and that such and such personages might be found among them."
"I am aware that you sent your son to that house--he told me so himself just now, but what is this intrigue?" said the prince, impatiently.
"It is not my intrigue!" cried Lebedeff, waving his hand.
"It was engineered by other people, and is, properly speaking, rather a fantasy than an intrigue!"
"But what is it all about? Tell me, for Heaven's sake! Cannot you understand how nearly it touches me? Why are they blackening Evgenie Pavlovitch's reputation?"
Lebedeff grimaced and wriggled again.
"Prince!" said he. "Excellency! You won't let me tell you the whole truth; I have tried to explain; more than once I have begun, but you have not allowed me to go on..."
The prince gave no answer, and sat deep in thought. Evidently he was struggling to decide.
"Very well! Tell me the truth," he said, dejectedly.
"Aglaya Ivanovna ..." began Lebedeff, promptly.
"Be silent! At once!" interrupted the prince, red with indignation, and perhaps with shame, too. "It is impossible and absurd! All that has been invented by you, or fools like you! Let me never hear you say a word again on that subject!"
Late in the evening Colia came in with a whole budget of Petersburg and Pavlofsk news. He did not dwell much on the Petersburg part of it, which consisted chiefly of intelligence about his friend Hippolyte, but passed quickly to the Pavlofsk tidings. He had gone straight to the Epanchins' from the station.
"There's the deuce and all going on there!" he said. "First of all about the row last night, and I think there must be something new as well, though I didn't like to ask. Not a word about YOU, prince, the whole time!" The most interesting fact was that Aglaya had been quarrelling with her people about Gania. Colia did not know any details, except that it had been a terrible quarrel! Also Evgenie Pavlovitch had called, and met with an excellent reception all round. And another curious thing: Mrs. Epanchin was so angry that she called Varia to her--Varia was talking to the girls--and turned her out of the house "once for all "she said. "I heard it from Varia herself--Mrs. Epanchin was quite polite, but firm; and when Varia said good-bye to the girls, she told them nothing about it, and they didn't know they were saying goodbye for the last time. I'm sorry for Varia, and for Gania too; he isn't half a bad fellow, in spite of his faults, and I shall never forgive myself for not liking him before! I don't know whether I ought to continue to go to the Epanchins' now," concluded Colia--" I like to be quite independent of others, and of other people's quarrels if I can; but I must think over it."
"I don't think you need break your heart over Gania," said the prince; "for if what you say is true, he must be considered dangerous in the Epanchin household, and if so, certain hopes of his must have been encouraged."
"What? What hopes?" cried Colia; "you surely don't mean Aglaya?-- oh, no!--"
"You're a dreadful sceptic, prince," he continued, after a moment's silence. "I have observed of late that you have grown sceptical about everything. You don't seem to believe in people as you did, and are always attributing motives and so on--am I using the word 'sceptic' in its proper sense?"
"I believe so; but I'm not sure."
"Well, I'll change it, right or wrong; I'll say that you are not sceptical, but JEALOUS. There! you are deadly jealous of Gania, over a certain proud damsel! Come!" Colia jumped up, with these words, and burst out laughing. He laughed as he had perhaps never laughed before, and still more when he saw the prince flushing up to his temples. He was delighted that the prince should be jealous about Aglaya. However, he stopped immediately on seeing that the other was really hurt, and the conversation continued, very earnestly, for an hour or more.
Next day the prince had to go to town, on business. Returning in the afternoon, he happened upon General Epanchin at the station. The latter seized his hand, glancing around nervously, as if he were afraid of being caught in wrong-doing, and dragged him into a first-class compartment. He was burning to speak about something of importance.
"In the first place, my dear prince, don't be angry with me. I would have come to see you yesterday, but I didn't know how Lizabetha Prokofievna would take it. My dear fellow, my house is simply a hell just now, a sort of sphinx has taken up its abode there. We live in an atmosphere of riddles; I can't make head or tail of anything. As for you, I feel sure you are the least to blame of any of us, though you certainly have been the cause of a good deal of trouble. You see, it's all very pleasant to be a philanthropist; but it can be carried too far. Of course I admire kind-heartedness, and I esteem my wife, but--"
The general wandered on in this disconnected way for a long time; it was clear that he was much disturbed by some circumstance which he could make nothing of.
"It is plain to me, that YOU are not in it at all," he continued, at last, a little less vaguely, "but perhaps you had better not come to our house for a little while. I ask you in the friendliest manner, mind; just till the wind changes again. As for Evgenie Pavlovitch," he continued with some excitement, "the whole thing is a calumny, a dirty calumny. It is simply a plot, an intrigue, to upset our plans and to stir up a quarrel. You see, prince, I'll tell you privately, Evgenie and ourselves have not said a word yet, we have no formal understanding, we are in no way bound on either side, but the word may be said very soon, don't you see, VERY soon, and all this is most injurious, and is meant to be so. Why? I'm sure I can't tell you. She's an extraordinary woman, you see, an eccentric woman; I tell you I am so frightened of that woman that I can't sleep. What a carriage that was, and where did it come from, eh? I declare, I was base enough to suspect Evgenie at first; but it seems certain that that cannot be the case, and if so, why is she interfering here? That's the riddle, what does she want? Is it to keep Evgenie to herself? But, my dear fellow, I swear to you, I swear he doesn't even KNOW her, and as for those bills, why, the whole thing is an invention! And the familiarity of the woman! It's quite clear we must treat the impudent creature's attempt with disdain, and redouble our courtesy towards Evgenie. I told my wife so.
"Now I'll tell you my secret conviction. I'm certain that she's doing this to revenge herself on me, on account of the past, though I assure you that all the time I was blameless. I blush at the very idea. And now she turns up again like this, when I thought she had finally disappeared! Where's Rogojin all this time? I thought she was Mrs. Rogojin, long ago."
The old man was in a state of great mental perturbation. The whole of the journey, which occupied nearly an hour, he continued in this strain, putting questions and answering them himself, shrugging his shoulders, pressing the prince's hand, and assuring the latter that, at all events, he had no suspicion whatever of HIM. This last assurance was satisfactory, at all events. The general finished by informing him that Evgenie's uncle was head of one of the civil service departments, and rich, very rich, and a gourmand. "And, well, Heaven preserve him, of course--but Evgenie gets his money, don't you see? But, for all this, I'm uncomfortable, I don't know why. There's something in the air, I feel there's something nasty in the air, like a bat, and I'm by no means comfortable."
And it was not until the third day that the formal reconciliation between the prince and the Epanchins took place, as said before.

直到第三天叶潘钦一家才完全平心静气下来。公爵虽然在许多方面通常都怪罪了自己，并真诚地期待着惩罚，但是开始他内心里依然怀着充分的信念，认为叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜不可能认真生他的气，而多半是生她自己的气。这样，这么长久的不和到了第三天已使公爵陷于茫然不知所措、郁郁寡欢的境地。造成这种境况的还有其他种种情形，但是其中一个情况是主要的。整整三天这一情况日益加重了公爵的疑心（不久前公爵谴责自己有两个极端，既责备自己那“毫无意义、令人讨厌的”异常的轻信，与此同时也责怪自己“阴鸳、卑劣的”的多疑）。总之，第三天快要结束的时候，从马车里跟叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇说话的那个古怪女士突然出现这件奇事，在他的头脑里则达到了令人害怕和神秘莫测的程度。这神秘莫测的实质，除了事情的其他诸多方面，对于公爵来说是一个可悲的问题：这件新的“荒唐之举”是否也正该归罪于他，或者仅仅……但是他没有说完还有谁。至于带Ｈ。印。B。三个字母的那个人之举，那么，在他看来，这纯粹不过是毫无恶意的淘气行为，甚至是十足孩子气的淘气行为，因此有一点点是她有错的想法也是惭愧的，在某个方面来说甚至是不正直的。
不过，在那下成体统的“夜晚”（那晚乱糟糟，他是所谓罪魁祸首）后的第一天，公爵上午就很高兴地在自己家里接待了ω公爵和阿杰莱达：“他们来主要是为了打听一下他的健康”，他们俩是散步顺便来的。阿杰莱达刚才在公园里发现了一棵树，是一棵奇美的古树，树叶繁茂，枝权伸展，弯弯曲曲，树身上有窟窿和裂缝，可是满树绿茵茵的嫩叶。她一定要画这棵树，一定要画！在他们来访的整整半小时中她几乎就只谈这件事。ω公爵仍像往常一样和霭可亲，他问公爵过去的事，回忆他们第一次相识时的情景，对于昨天的事几乎一语不发，最后阿杰莱达忍不住了，苦笑着承认，他们是顺道而来， ｉｎｃｏｇｎｉｔｏ＊，但是她的承认也就至此为止，虽然从ｉｎｃｏｇｎｉｔｏ这个词已经可以看出，她父母，也就是说，主要是叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜眼下情绪特别不好。但是，无论是关于她，还是阿格拉娅，甚至伊万·费奥多罗维奇，阿杰菜达和ω公爵在这次拜访中却都只字未提。他们继续去散步，临走也没有邀请公爵同行。至于说请他去他们家，更是毫无表示；关于这一点阿杰莱达嘴里甚至冒出一句很能说明问题的后：在讲到她的一幅水彩画时，她突然表示很想给公爵看看这幅画。“怎么才能快点办这件事，等一等？如果科利亚来，我或者就让他给您送来，或者明天与公爵散步时我自己带来，”她终于结束了自己的困惑，并对于她能这么灵活而且对大家都合适地解决这个难题感到高兴。
最后，几乎已经是告辞后，ω公爵像是突然回忆起似的说：
“对了，”他问，“您是否知道，亲爱的列大·尼古拉耶维奇，昨天从马车里朝叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇喊叫的那个女人是什么人？”
“这是纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜，”公爵说，“难道您还不知道这是她？跟她在一起的是谁，我却不知道。”
“我知道，我听说过！”ω公爵接过话茬说，“但是这喊声是什么意思？我承认，对于我来说，这真是个谜……对于我和对于其他人来说都是。”
ω公爵说话时明显带着一种异常惊讶的神情。
“她说了叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇什么借据的事，”梅什金公爵非常简单地回答说，“这些借据从某个高利贷者那里落到了罗戈任手中，是因为她的请求，并说罗戈任将等叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇一段时间。”
“我听到的，听到的，亲爱的公爵，要知道这是不可能的！叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇不可能有什么借据的！他拥有这么多的财产……确实，他过去发生过一些轻率的事，我甚至还帮过他摆脱困境……但是凭他有的财产却向高利贷者立借据并为此提心吊胆，这不可能。而且他也不可能对纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜说你，不可能与她有这般友好的关系。主要的谜就在这里。他发誓一点也不明白，我完全相信他。但问题在于，亲爱的公爵，我想问您，是否知道什么？也就是说，哪怕是有什么传闻奇迹般地传到您这儿。”
＊意大利语：别人不知道的。
“不，我什么也不知道，请您相信，我丝毫没有干预这件事。”
“啊，公爵，瞧您成了什么人了！今天我简直不认得您了。难道我会认为您干预了这样的事？……算了，您今天情绪不佳。”
他拥抱并吻了公爵。
“干预什么样的‘这样的’事？我看不出任何‘这样的’事。”
“毫无疑问，这个女人想以某种方式和在某个方面给叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇制造麻烦，当着人家的面强加给他本来没有也不可能有的品质，”ω公爵回答说，语气相当冷淡。
列夫·尼古拉耶维奇公爵非常窘困，但是，他仍然疑问地凝视着公爵，但后者却缄默不语。
“也许不仅仅是借据？不真正像昨天她说的那样？”公爵终于不耐烦地嘀咕说。“我对您说，您自己判断，可能在叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇和……她之间，加上罗戈任，有什么共同的东西？我再对你说一遍，他拥有巨大的财产，这点我完全知道；他还等着从伯父那里得到另一笔财产。不过是纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜……”
ω公爵突然又闭口不语了，显然是因为他不想向公爵继续谈论纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜。
“这么说，至少他是认识她的罗？”列夫·尼古拉耶维奇沉默了１分钟左右，突然问。
“好像是这么回事，是个轻浮的人嘛！不过，即使有这回事，也已经是很久前了，是过去，也就是两三年前，要知道他跟托茨基也相识。现在可丝毫也不可能有这类事，他们从来也不可能用你相称！您自己知道，她一直不在这里，无论什么地方都不见她。许多人还不知道，她又出现了。我发现她马车也就是三天左右，不会更多。”
“多么富丽堂皇的马车！”阿杰莱达说。
“是的，马车很富丽堂皇。”
他们俩走了，不过，可以说，他们是怀着对列夫·尼古拉耶维奇公爵最友好的兄弟般的好感离开的。
而对我们的主人公来说这次拜访甚至包含着相当重大的意义。比方说，从昨天起（也许还更早）他自己也有许多疑惑，但是在他们来访以前他完全不取为自己的担忧辩解。现在则明白了：田公爵当然是错误地解释了事情，但终究已经徘徊在真相的周围了，他毕竟明白这里有阴谋。（“不过，也许他暗自完全正确地明白事情的真相，”公爵思忖着，“只不过不想说出来，因而故意作错误的解释。”）最明显的是，刚才他们来看他（而且正是田公爵），是希望他做出某些解释；如果是这样，那么他们简直就认为他参与了阴谋，此外，如果这一切真的这么重要，那么，看来她有某种可怕的目的，是什么目的呢？真可怕！“再说怎么阻止她呢？当她认定了自己的目的后，要制止她是丝毫不可能的！”公爵凭经验已经知道这一点。“真是疯了，疯了！”
但是这个上午汇集拢来的其他悬而未决的问题是大多了，大多了，而且所有的问题都在同一个时间涌来，全都要求立即解决，因此公爵甚是忧心忡忡。维拉·列别杰娃抱了柳芭奇卡到他这儿来，笑着给他聊了好半天，稍微消解了他的愁思。跟着她来的是张大了嘴的妹妹，在她们后面则是列别杰大的中学生儿子。他要公爵相信，《启示录》里讲到的落到地面水源上的“茵陈星”，据他父亲阐释，就是分布欧洲的铁路网。公爵不相信列别杰夫是这样解释的，决定一有合适机会就问他本人。从维拉·列别杰娃那里公爵获悉，凯勒尔昨天起就到他们这儿来落脚，从所有的迹象来看，短期内他不会离开他们家，因为找到了伙伴，跟伊沃尔京将军交起朋友来了；不过，他声称，他留在他们那里唯一的目的是为了补充自己的教育，总的来说，列别杰夫的孩子们开始日益使公爵越来越喜欢。科利亚一整天都不在家：他一大早就去了波得堡。（列别杰夫也是天刚亮就去办自己的事了。）但是公爵迫不及待地等待的是加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇的来访，他今天非得来找公爵不可。
他在下午６点多刚用餐后就来了。看了他第一眼，公爵就思忖，至少这位先生是应该正确无误地了解全部底细的。再说他有瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜及其丈夫这样的帮手，他怎么会不知道呢？但是公爵跟加尼亚的关系仍然有些特别。比如，公爵信托他办布尔多夫斯基这件事，是特别请求他办事；但是，尽管有这种信任和往昔的交情，在他们之间仍留有某些仿佛决定彼此绝不谈及的敏感点。公爵有时候觉得，从加尼亚这方面来说，他也许愿意以最彻底和友好的真诚相侍；例如现在，他刚走进来，公爵马上就觉得，加尼亚充满信心地认为，正是此刻该是打破他们之间在所有那些敏感点上的坚冰的时候，（可是加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇急于要走，他妹妹在列别杰夫那里等他；他俩急着要去办什么事。）
但是如果加尼亚真的期待会有一连串迫不及待的问题、情下自禁的诉说、赤诚友情的坦露，那么他当然是错了，在他拜访的整个２０分钟过程中公爵甚至非常沉静，几乎心不在焉。原来期待他提出的许多问题，或者最好是说加尼亚等待他提出的主要问题，并没有提出来。于是加尼亚也就决定谈话时做较多的保留。他一刻不停他讲了整整２０分钟，一边笑着，一边很快地扯着一些最轻松愉快的闲话，可是却避而下谈主要的事。
加尼亚只是顺便讲到，纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜到帕夫洛夫斯克这里总共才四天，可是已经引起了大家的注意。她住在水手街某个地方一幢下怎么好的小房子里。是在达里娅·阿列克谢耶夫娜那里，而她的轻便马车几乎是帕夫洛夫斯克首屈一指的。她周围已经座集了一一大群老老少少的追求者；有时还有骑手伴送她的马车。纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜仍像以前那样非常挑剔，到她这儿来的都是经过选择的人。但是在她旁边仍然形成了一支队伍，逢到需要的时候总有人会站出来保护她，一位消夏的别墅客是个已订了婚约的未婚夫，为了纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜而跟自己的未婚妻吵架；一位将军老头为了她几乎诅咒自己的儿子。她常常把一个美妙的少女带在身边兜风，那少女刚１６岁，是达里娅·阿列克谢耶夫娜的远亲，她唱歌唱得很好，因此，每到夜晚她们的小屋，急吸引人们的注意。不过，纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜操守非常规矩，穿得也不华丽，但异常有风度，所有的女士们都 “羡慕她的风度，美貌和马车”。
“昨天那件怪事，”加尼亚低声说，“当然是有用意的，当然，是不应该计较的。要对她吹毛求疵什么的，那就得故意找她的碴儿，或者造谣中伤，不过，这也马上就会来的，”加尼亚结束道。他本来期待着公爵这时一定会问：“为什么他称昨天的那件事是有用意的、又为什么说那种事马上就会来的？”但是公爵却没有问。
关于叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇的情况也是加尼亚自己说开的，没有特别的询问，这显得非常奇怪，因为他在谈话中插进这个话题是不伦不类的。照加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇的说法，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇不认识纳斯塔西娅，向她介绍了他，恐怕一次也没有跟其他人一起去过她的家。关于借据的事，也是可能的（这一点加尼亚甚至知道得很肯定）叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇当然是有一份巨大的家财，但是“庄园方面的某些事务确实搞得乱七八糟”，在一个令人颇感兴趣的话题上，加尼亚却忽然住了口。关于纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜昨夜的出格的举动，除了前面顺便提到的，他没有再说一句话，后来瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜来找加尼亚，她呆了一会儿，也是未经询问就来的，说叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇今天，也可能明天，要去彼得堡，而她的丈夫（伊万·波得罗维奇·普季岑）也在彼得堡，也好像是为叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛丝奇的事，那边确实出了什么事。临走时，她又补充说，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜今天心境极为恶劣，但最奇怪的是，阿格拉娅跟全家都吵遍了，不仅跟父亲母亲，而且连跟两个姐姐也吵架了，“这可完全不好。”仿佛是顺便告诉这最后一个消息（对于公爵来说却是极为意味深长的），兄妹俩便走了。有关“帕夫利谢夫儿子”的事，加涅奇卡也只字未提，也许是出于虚假的谦逊，可能是“顾惜公爵的感情”，但是公爵还是再一次感谢他尽力办完了这个事情。
公爵非常高兴，终于只剩下他一个人了。他走下露台，穿过路径，走进了花园；他想好好思考一下，做出下一步的决定，但是这“一步”不是可以反复考虑的一步，而恰恰是不容斟酌、只能下决心干的一步，他忽然非常想撇下这里的一切，回到自己来的地方去，去遥远的僻静的地方，立即动身，甚至跟准都不告而别。他预感到，只要他在这里哪怕再呆上几天，就一定会无可挽回地被牵进这个圈子里去，并且这个圈子今后就将落在他身上。但是什么考虑还没有，１０分钟便当即做出决定，要逃走是“不可能的”，这几乎是畏缩怯懦，因为摆在他面前的这些难题，不去解决或者至少是不竭尽全力去解决现在他甚至没有丝毫权利可以这样做。带着这样的思绪他回到家，未必有一刻钟散步。此刻他完全是不幸的。
列别杰夫仍然不在家，因而傍晚的时候凯勒尔得以闯到公爵这儿来。他没有喝醉，而是来吐露心曲和做自我表白的。他直截了当声称他来是向公爵匿讲述自己的一生，为此他才留在帕夫洛夫斯克的。要赶他走是没有一丝可能的：他是怎么也不会走的。凯勒尔本准备讲上很久，讲得也很不连贯，但是几乎刚开始说就突然跳到了结尾，并且说，他失去了“道德的所有幽灵”（纯粹是由于下信至高无上的上帝的缘故），以至曾经偷过东西。“您能想象到这点吗。”
“听着，凯勒尔，要是我处在您的地位，没有特别的需要最好别做这样的自供，”公爵开始说，“不过，您也许是故意往自己身上抹黑？”
“只对您，唯一对您一个人供认，只是为了帮助自己发展！再也不会告诉任何人；至死也要把我的秘密藏在白色？”衣下带去！但是，公爵，您要是能知道我们这个时代弄到钱有多难就好！说了这些，请间您，到哪儿去弄钱？只有一个回答：‘拿黄金和钻石来作抵押，我们就给，’也就是说，恰恰是我所没有的，您能想象这点吗？最后我生气了，就那么站在那里不走。‘绿宝石作抵押，给不给？’我说。‘绿宝石作抵押也给，’他说。‘好，好极了，’我说完，戴上帽子就走了出去；见你们的鬼，你们这帮无赖！真是这样！”
“难道您有绿宝石？”
“我哪有什么绿宝石！喏，公爵，您还以那么光明和天真的眼光，甚至可以说，用田园牧歌式的态度来看待生活！”
最后，公爵与其说是怜惜，不如说是感到不好意思。他甚至闪过这么一个念头。“难道不能通过某个人的好影响使这个人做成什么事吗？”他认为鉴于某些原因自己的影响是完全不适用的，这并非是妄自菲薄，而是因为对事物的某种特殊的的看法。渐渐她他们谈得拢了，以至都不想分手了。凯勒尔异常情愿地承认了一些事情，简直令人不可想象，这些事情怎能讲得出口。每当开始讲一个故事前，他总是真正要你相信，他是多么悔恨，内心“充满泪水”，可是一讲起来则又仿佛为这些行为而自豪，同时，有时又显得那么可笑，乃至他和公爵最后都像疯了似的哈哈大笑。
“主要的是，在您身上有一种孩子般的好信任感和不同寻常的诚实，”公爵最后说，“要知道，就凭这一点您就能补偿许多不足。”
“气度高尚，气度高尚，骑士般的高尚气度。”凯勒尔非常感动地加以肯定，“但是，公爵，您要知道，一切仅是幻想，这么说吧，是海市蜃搂，实际上永远也不会有什么结果！为什么会这样？我无法理解。”
“别失望。现在可以肯定地说，您向我和盘托出了您的全部底细；至少我觉得，对于您所讲的，现在已经不能再补充什么了，不是这样吗？”
“不能？。”凯勒尔带着怜惜的口吻感叹说，“哦，公爵，您对人的理解在很大程度上可以说还是瑞士式的。”
“难道还可以补充？”公爵惊讶而羞怯地说，“那么您期待从我这里得到什么呢？凯勒尔，请说吧，您来忏悔是为了什么？”
“从您这里得到什么？期待什么？第一，单是望着您这副心地忠厚的样子就让人愉快，跟您一起坐一会，聊一聊，也让人心里高兴；至少我知道，我面前是位最具美德的人，而第二嘛……第二……”
他语塞了，没有说下去。
“也许，您是想借钱。”公爵非常认真和憨厚地提示说，甚至还有点羞怯。
凯特尔猛然一震；他带着先前的惊讶直盯着公爵的眼睛很快地瞥了一眼，用拳头重重地猛击了一下桌子。
“嘿，您这一着可真把人搞槽了！得了吧，公爵，像您这样单纯忠厚，这样天真纯朴，就是在黄金时代也没有听说过，同时，您又用这样深刻的心理观察像利箭一般一下子把人刺穿了。但是，请原谅，公爵，这需要解释，因为我……我简直弄糊涂了！当然，说到底，我的目的是借钱，但是您问我借钱的事时，仿佛并不认为这是应受谴责的，而认为这是应该似的。”
“是的……从您来说这是应该的。”
“您不气忿吗。”
“是的……有什么可气忿的呢。”
“听着，公爵，昨晚起我就留在这儿了，第一，是出于对法国大主教布尔达鲁＊（我们在列别杰夫那里干了一瓶又一瓶直喝到３点钟）有着特别的敬意，第二，主要的，我可以画十字起誓，我说的是千真万确的真话！），我之所以留下来，这么说吧，是想向您做全部的诚心诚意的忏晦，以此来促进自己的成长，我就带着这样的想法泪流满面地在３点多钟睡着了，您现在相信一个正人君子吗、在我入睡那一刻，真正充满了内心的泪水，可以说，也泪流满面（因为最后我号啕大哭）”，我记得这一点！），我冒出了一个可恶的念头：‘怎么，在作过忏悔以后，来了不问他借点钱吗。”这样，我就准备好了忏悔，这么说吧，犹如一道‘泪汁肉丁’，目的就为了让这这些泪水泡软通路，使您感化以后数给我１５０卢布。在您看来，这不卑鄙吗。”
“可是这大概不是真话，而不过是一件下跟另一件事碰到一起了，两个念头汇合到一起，这是常会发生的情况。我就不断出现这种情况，不过，我认为这下好，您要知道，凯勒尔；在这点上我首先总是责备自己。您现在向我讲的就像是我自己的事、我有时候甚至认为，”公爵很严肃、真诚和饶有兴味地继续说，“所有的人都是这样的，于是我就开始赞许自己，因为要跟这两种念头作斗争困难得不得了，我有体验。上帝才知道，这两种念头怎么来的；怎么产生的。您就直截了当称这是卑鄙！现在我又将开始怕这些念头。无论怎么样，我不是您的法官。但是，据我看，终究不能就这么直截了当地称之为卑鄙，您怎么想？您耍滑头，想通过眼泪来骗取钱财，但是您可是自己起誓，说您的忏梅还有别的目的，是高尚的目的，而不单是弄钱的目的；至于说到钱，您需要它们可是用来纵酒，是吗？但是，在这样的忏梅以后这自纵是意志薄弱的行为。然而，一下子又怎么能抛弃酗酒呢？这是不可能的。怎么办？最好还是留给您自己的良心去考虑，您认为怎样？”
＊布尔达鲁和波尔多（法国葡萄酒名）两词发音相近。此处系凯勒尔戏称。
公爵异常好奇地望着凯勒尔。关于两种念头的问题显然早已占据了他的思想。
“嘿，听您这么说以后，我真不明白，为什么人家要称您是白痴？”凯勒尔喊着说。
公爵微微红了脸。
“布尔达鲁大主教也不会宽恕人的，而您却宽恕人，而且富有同情心地评判我：为了惩戒自己和表明我受了感动，现在我不想要１５０卢布了，只要给我２５卢布就够了！我所需要的就这些，至少可以过两个星期。不到两个星期我不会来要钱，我原想让阿加什卡高兴高兴，但是她不配。啊，亲爱的公爵，愿上帝祝福您！”
最后，列别杰夫进来了。他刚刚回来，发现凯勒尔手中有２５卢布，便皱了下眉头，但是拿到了钱的凯勒尔已经急着要走了并且立即溜之大吉。列别杰夫马上就开始说起他的坏话来。
“您不公正，他确实真心诚意悔过，”最后公爵指出。
“要知道这算什么悔过呀！就跟我昨天说‘我卑鄙，我卑鄙’一模一样，可只是说说而已！”
“这么说您只是说说而已，而我本来以为……”
“好吧，这就对您，就对您一个人说真话，因为您能洞察一个人：说也罢，做也罢，谎言也罢，真话也罢，这一切在我身上全是混在一起的，并且也完全是真诚的，真话和行动于我便是真诚的悔过，信不信由您，我可以起誓，而说空话和谎言则是可恶的（且总是存在的）念头，怎么诱人上钩，怎么通过悔恨的泪水来赢得好处！真的，是这样的！对别人我是下会说的，因为会遭到他嘲笑或唾弃；但是，公爵，您会富有同情心地做出评判。”
“瞧，就跟刚才他对我说的一模一样。”公爵高声喊了起来，“而且你们俩像是在自我吹嘘！你们甚至使我感到谅讶，只不过他比您来得真诚，而您将此完全变成了一种职业。得了，够了，别皱眉头，列别杰夫，也不用把手放到心口。您不要对我说什么呜？您是不会白白上这儿来的……”
列别杰夫拱肩曲背，扭捏作态。
“我等了您整整一天，想向您提一个问题，请回答我，哪怕一生中说这一次真话：您是否多少参与了与昨晚马车有关的事？”
列别杰夫又扭扭捏捏，开始嘻嘻笑起来，不停地搓着双手，最后甚至接连打起喷嚏来，但依然还是没有勇气说出话来。
“我看得出，您是参与的。”
“但是间接的，纯粹只是间接的！我说的是老实话！我参与的只是及时让那个女人知道，我家聚集着这么一伙人以及有些人在场。”
“我知道，您派自己的儿子到那里去过，他刚才自己对我说的，但是这是个什么阴谋呀！”公爵不耐烦地感叹说。
“这不是我的阴谋，不是我的阴谋，”列别杰夫连连挥手加以否定，“这事是别的人搞的，别的人，而且与其说是阴谋，不如说是突发奇想。”
“到底是怎么回事？看在基督面上，您给解释清楚！难道您不明白，这是直接牵涉到我的？要知道这是在给叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇抹黑。”
“公爵，最尊敬的公爵！”列别杰夫又作出拱肩曲背状，“这可是您不许讲出全部真情的，我不是已经开始向您讲真实情况了吗？不止一次，而您不许我讲下去……”
公爵沉默不语，思考了一会。
“那好吧，您讲真相吧，”他沉重地说，显然是经过了激烈的思想斗争。
“阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜……”列别杰夫马上开始说。
“闭嘴，闭嘴！”公爵发狂地喊了起来，气愤得满脸通红，也许还用为感到羞耻。“这不可能，这是胡说！这一切是您自己或者是如您这样的疯子杜撰出来的。永远再也不要让我从您那里听到这样的话！”
夜晚已经１０点多的时候科利亚带了一大堆消息来了，他的消息有两个方面：彼得堡的和帕夫洛夫斯克的。他急忙把彼得堡方面主要的消息先讲了（大部分是关于伊波利特和昨天的事）为了是待会儿再转过来谈，所以赶快转到帕夫洛夫斯克的消息。３小时前他从彼得堡回来，没有到公爵这里来，径直就去了叶潘钦家。“那里的情况简直槽透了！”当然，马车的事是头等的，但是这里面大概还有什么名堂，还有什么他和公爵都不知道的事。“我当然不是密探，也不想向谁打听；不过对我的接待很好，好到甚至出平我的意料，但是对您公爵却只字未提。”最主要和耐人寻味的是，阿格拉娅刚才为了加尼亚跟家里人吵了一顿，事情的详细情况不知道，但就是为了加尼亚（您能想象这点吗！），而且还吵得很凶，看来是有什么要紧的事。将军来得很晚，一副闷闷不乐的样子。叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇跟他一起来的，受到了非常好的接待，而他自己也出奇地快活和可爱。最重大的消息是，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜不露声色地把坐在小姐们那儿聊大的瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜叫到自己那里，把她永远赶出自己的家，不过，她采取的却是最客气的方式，这是“从瓦里娅本人那儿听说的”。但是，瓦里娅从叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜那儿出来并跟小姐们告辞的时候，她们却并不知道，她已被永远拒之家门外，这是与她们最后一次作别。
“但是瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁夫娜７点钟时曾经在我这儿的吧？”公爵惊讶地问。
“而赶她走是在７点多或者８点钟。我很可怜瓦里娅，可怜加尼亚……无疑，他们永远在搞诡计，不这样他们是不可能的。而我从来也无法知道，他们在谋划什么，也不想知道。但是请您相信，我亲爱的善良的公爵，加尼亚是有良心的。这个人在许多方面当然是沉沦的，但是在他身上也有许多方面存在着值得寻找的品质，我永远不能原谅自己的是，过去没有理解他……我不知道，在发生瓦里娅这件事后，现在我是否应该继续去那里。说真的，从一开始我就使自己处于完全独立和单独的地位，但是毕竟应该好好想想。”
“您过分怜惜兄长是徒然的，”公爵向他指出，“既然事情已经到了那一步，那么加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇在叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜眼里是个危险人物，因此，他的某些希望正在确立。”
“怎么，什么希望！”科利亚惊诧地喊了起来，“难道您认为，阿格拉娅……这不可能。”
公爵不吭声了。
“您是个可怕的怀疑论者，公爵，”过了两分钟科利亚补说，“我发现，从某个时候起您成了个异常好怀疑的人；您开始什么都不相信并且对一都进行揣测……这种情况下我用‘怀疑论者’这个词正确吗？”
“我想是正确的，虽然我自己其实也不知道。”
“但是我自己不采用‘怀疑论者’这个词，我找到了新的解释，”科利亚突然喊了起来，“您不是怀疑论者，而是个嫉妒者！您极力嫉妒加尼亚爱那位高傲的小姐！”
说完这些，科利亚跳起来，哈哈大笑着，就像他从来也未能好好笑一剑似的。看到公爵满脸啡红，科利亚笑得更加厉宫；他非常得意公爵嫉妒阿格拉娅这个想法，但是，当他发现公爵真的忧伤时，立即就默不作声了。接着他们又很认真和忧虑地谈了一个或一个半小时。
第二天公爵因有一件刻不容缓的事要办在彼得堡耽了整整一上午。回到帕夫洛夫斯克时已经下午４点多了，他在火车站遇到了伊万·费奥多罗维奇。将军很快地抓住他的手，仿佛害怕似的朝四周打量了一下；便把公爵拖进副的一等车厢里，要他一起坐车。他热切地想跟公爵谈什么要紧的事。
“首先，亲爱的公爵，别生我的气，如果我这方面有什么不对的话，请忘了吧。本来昨天我就要到您这儿来，但是不知道，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲夫娜对此会怎样……我家里……简直成了地狱，住进了神秘莫测的斯芬克思似的，而我心里翻腾不安，什么也不明白。至于说到你，那么照我看来，你的过错比我们大家都要小，虽然许多事情当然都是因为你而发生的。你看到了，公爵，当一个慈善家是愉快的，但是也并不尽然。也许，你自己已经尝到了苦果。我当然是喜欢仁慈的、并尊重叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜，但是……”
将军说这类话又继续了很久，但他的话语无伦次得令人惊奇，看得出，一件令他极为不解的事使他感到异常震惊和困窘。
“对于我来说，这件事上跟你没有关系这点是毫无疑问的，”他终于说得明确了些，“但是，我友好地请求你，一段时间内别来拜访我们，直至风向转变为止。
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 28楼  发表于: 2014-01-17 0

Part 2 Chapter 12
IT was seven in the evening, and the prince was just preparing to go out for a walk in the park, when suddenly Mrs. Epanchin appeared on the terrace.
"In the first place, don't dare to suppose," she began, "that I am going to apologize. Nonsense! You were entirely to blame."
The prince remained silent.
"Were you to blame, or not?"
"No, certainly not, no more than yourself, though at first I thought I was."
"Oh, very well, let's sit down, at all events, for I don't intend to stand up all day. And remember, if you say, one word about 'mischievous urchins,' I shall go away and break with you altogether. Now then, did you, or did you not, send a letter to Aglaya, a couple of months or so ago, about Easter-tide?"
"Yes!"
"What for? What was your object? Show me the letter." Mrs. Epanchin's eyes flashed; she was almost trembling with impatience.
"I have not got the letter," said the prince, timidly, extremely surprised at the turn the conversation had taken. "If anyone has it, if it still exists, Aglaya Ivanovna must have it."
"No finessing, please. What did you write about?"
"I am not finessing, and I am not in the least afraid of telling you; but I don't see the slightest reason why I should not have written."
"Be quiet, you can talk afterwards! What was the letter about? Why are you blushing?"
The prince was silent. At last he spoke.
"I don't understand your thoughts, Lizabetha Prokofievna; but I can see that the fact of my having written is for some reason repugnant to you. You must admit that I have a perfect right to refuse to answer your questions; but, in order to show you that I am neither ashamed of the letter, nor sorry that I wrote it, and that I am not in the least inclined to blush about it "(here the prince's blushes redoubled), "I will repeat the substance of my letter, for I think I know it almost by heart."
So saying, the prince repeated the letter almost word for word, as he had written it.
"My goodness, what utter twaddle, and what may all this nonsense have signified, pray? If it had any meaning at all!" said Mrs. Epanchin, cuttingly, after having listened with great attention.
"I really don't absolutely know myself; I know my feeling was very sincere. I had moments at that time full of life and hope."
"What sort of hope?"
"It is difficult to explain, but certainly not the hopes you have in your mind. Hopes--well, in a word, hopes for the future, and a feeling of joy that THERE, at all events, I was not entirely a stranger and a foreigner. I felt an ecstasy in being in my native land once more; and one sunny morning I took up a pen and wrote her that letter, but why to HER, I don't quite know. Sometimes one longs to have a friend near, and I evidently felt the need of one then," added the prince, and paused.
"Are you in love with her?"
"N-no! I wrote to her as to a sister; I signed myself her brother."
"Oh yes, of course, on purpose! I quite understand."
"It is very painful to me to answer these questions, Lizabetha Prokofievna."
"I dare say it is; but that's no affair of mine. Now then, assure me truly as before Heaven, are you lying to me or not?"
"No, I am not lying."
"Are you telling the truth when you say you are not in love?"
"I believe it is the absolute truth."
"'I believe,' indeed! Did that mischievous urchin give it to her?"
"I asked Nicolai Ardalionovitch . . ."
"The urchin! the urchin!" interrupted Lizabetha Prokofievna in an angry voice. "I do not want to know if it were Nicolai Ardalionovitch! The urchin!"
"Nicolai Ardalionovitch . . ."
"The urchin, I tell you!"
"No, it was not the urchin: it was Nicolai Ardalionovitch," said the prince very firmly, but without raising his voice.
"Well, all right! All right, my dear! I shall put that down to your account."
She was silent a moment to get breath, and to recover her composure.
"Well!--and what's the meaning of the 'poor knight,' eh?"
"I don't know in the least; I wasn't present when the joke was made. It IS a joke. I suppose, and that's all."
"Well, that's a comfort, at all events. You don't suppose she could take any interest in you, do you? Why, she called you an 'idiot' herself."
"I think you might have spared me that," murmured the prince reproachfully, almost in a whisper.
"Don't be angry; she is a wilful, mad, spoilt girl. If she likes a person she will pitch into him, and chaff him. I used to be just such another. But for all that you needn't flatter yourself, my boy; she is not for you. I don't believe it, and it is not to be. I tell you so at once, so that you may take proper precautions. Now, I want to hear you swear that you are not married to that woman?"
"Lizabetha Prokofievna, what are you thinking of?" cried the prince, almost leaping to his feet in amazement.
"Why? You very nearly were, anyhow."
"Yes--I nearly was," whispered the prince, hanging his head.
"Well then, have you come here for HER? Are you in love with HER? With THAT creature?"
"I did not come to marry at all," replied the prince.
"Is there anything you hold sacred?"
"There is."
"Then swear by it that you did not come here to marry HER!"
"I'll swear it by whatever you please."
"I believe you. You may kiss me; I breathe freely at last. But you must know, my dear friend, Aglaya does not love you, and she shall never be your wife while I am out of my grave. So be warned in time. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, I hear."
The prince flushed up so much that he could not look her in the face.
"I have waited for you with the greatest impatience (not that you were worth it). Every night I have drenched my pillow with tears, not for you, my friend, not for you, don't flatter yourself! I have my own grief, always the same, always the same. But I'll tell you why I have been awaiting you so impatiently, because I believe that Providence itself sent you to be a friend and a brother to me. I haven't a friend in the world except Princess Bielokonski, and she is growing as stupid as a sheep from old age. Now then, tell me, yes or no? Do you know why she called out from her carriage the other night?"
"I give you my word of honour that I had nothing to do with the matter and know nothing about it."
"Very well, I believe you. I have my own ideas about it. Up to yesterday morning I thought it was really Evgenie Pavlovitch who was to blame; now I cannot help agreeing with the others. But why he was made such a fool of I cannot understand. However, he is not going to marry Aglaya, I can tell you that. He may be a very excellent fellow, but--so it shall be. I was not at all sure of accepting him before, but now I have quite made up my mind that I won't have him. 'Put me in my coffin first and then into my grave, and then you may marry my daughter to whomsoever you please,' so I said to the general this very morning. You see how I trust you, my boy."
"Yes, I see and understand."
Mrs. Epanchin gazed keenly into the prince's eyes. She was anxious to see what impression the news as to Evgenie Pavlovitch had made upon him.
"Do you know anything about Gavrila Ardalionovitch?" she asked at last.
"Oh yes, I know a good deal."
"Did you know he had communications with Aglaya?"
"No, I didn't," said the prince, trembling a little, and in great agitation. "You say Gavrila Ardalionovitch has private communications with Aglaya?--Impossible!"
"Only quite lately. His sister has been working like a rat to clear the way for him all the winter."
"I don't believe it!" said the prince abruptly, after a short pause. "Had it been so I should have known long ago."
"Oh, of course, yes; he would have come and wept out his secret on your bosom. Oh, you simpleton--you simpleton! Anyone can deceive you and take you in like a--like a,--aren't you ashamed to trust him? Can't you see that he humbugs you just as much as ever he pleases?"
"I know very well that he does deceive me occasionally, and he knows that I know it, but--" The prince did not finish his sentence.
"And that's why you trust him, eh? So I should have supposed. Good Lord, was there ever such a man as you? Tfu! and are you aware, sir, that this Gania, or his sister Varia, have brought her into correspondence with Nastasia Philipovna?"
"Brought whom?" cried Muishkin.
"Aglaya."
"I don't believe it! It's impossible! What object could they have?" He jumped up from his chair in his excitement.
"Nor do I believe it, in spite of the proofs. The girl is self- willed and fantastic, and insane! She's wicked, wicked! I'll repeat it for a thousand years that she's wicked; they ALL are, just now, all my daughters, even that 'wet hen' Alexandra. And yet I don't believe it. Because I don't choose to believe it, perhaps; but I don't. Why haven't you been?" she turned on the prince suddenly. "Why didn't you come near us all these three days, eh?"
The prince began to give his reasons, but she interrupted him again.
"Everybody takes you in and deceives you; you went to town yesterday. I dare swear you went down on your knees to that rogue, and begged him to accept your ten thousand roubles!"
"I never thought of doing any such thing. I have not seen him, and he is not a rogue, in my opinion. I have had a letter from him."
"Show it me!"
The prince took a paper from his pocket-book, and handed it to Lizabetha Prokofievna. It ran as follows:
"SIR,
"In the eyes of the world I am sure that I have no cause for pride or self-esteem. I am much too insignificant for that. But what may be so to other men's eyes is not so to yours. I am convinced that you are better than other people. Doktorenko disagrees with me, but I am content to differ from him on this point. I will never accept one single copeck from you, but you have helped my mother, and I am bound to be grateful to you for that, however weak it may seem. At any rate, I have changed my opinion about you, and I think right to inform you of the fact; but I also suppose that there can be no further inter course between us " ANTIP BURDOVSKY.
"P.S.--The two hundred roubles I owe you shall certainly be repaid in time."
"How extremely stupid!" cried Mrs. Epanchin, giving back the letter abruptly. "It was not worth the trouble of reading. Why are you smiling?"
"Confess that you are pleased to have read it."
"What! Pleased with all that nonsense! Why, cannot you see that they are all infatuated with pride and vanity?"
"He has acknowledged himself to be in the wrong. Don't you see that the greater his vanity, the more difficult this admission must have been on his part? Oh, what a little child you are, Lizabetha Prokofievna!"
"Are you tempting me to box your ears for you, or what?"
"Not at all. I am only proving that you are glad about the letter. Why conceal your real feelings? You always like to do it."
"Never come near my house again!" cried Mrs. Epanchin, pale with rage. "Don't let me see as much as a SHADOW of you about the place! Do you hear?"
"Oh yes, and in three days you'll come and invite me yourself. Aren't you ashamed now? These are your best feelings; you are only tormenting yourself."
"I'll die before I invite you! I shall forget your very name! I've forgotten it already!"
She marched towards the door.
"But I'm forbidden your house as it is, without your added threats!" cried the prince after her.
"What? Who forbade you?"
She turned round so suddenly that one might have supposed a needle had been stuck into her.
The prince hesitated. He perceived that he had said too much now.
"WHO forbade you?" cried Mrs. Epanchin once more.
"Aglaya Ivanovna told me--"
"When? Speak--quick!"
"She sent to say, yesterday morning, that I was never to dare to come near the house again."
Lizabetha Prokofievna stood like a stone.
"What did she send? Whom? Was it that boy? Was it a message?- quick!"
"I had a note," said the prince.
"Where is it? Give it here, at once."
The prince thought a moment. Then he pulled out of his waistcoat pocket an untidy slip of paper, on which was scrawled:
"PRINCE LEF NICOLAIEVITCH,--If you think fit, after all that has passed, to honour our house with a visit, I can assure you you will not find me among the number of those who are in any way delighted to see you.
"AGLAYA EPANCHIN."
Mrs. Epanchin reflected a moment. The next minute she flew at the prince, seized his hand, and dragged him after her to the door.
"Quick--come along!" she cried, breathless with agitation and impatience. "Come along with me this moment!"
"But you declared I wasn't--"
"Don't be a simpleton. You behave just as though you weren't a man at all. Come on! I shall see, now, with my own eyes. I shall see all."
"Well, let me get my hat, at least."
"Here's your miserable hat He couldn't even choose a respectable shape for his hat! Come on! She did that because I took your part and said you ought to have come--little vixen!--else she would never have sent you that silly note. It's a most improper note, I call it; most improper for such an intelligent, well-brought-up girl to write. H'm! I dare say she was annoyed that you didn't come; but she ought to have known that one can't write like that to an idiot like you, for you'd be sure to take it literally." Mrs. Epanchin was dragging the prince along with her all the time, and never let go of his hand for an instant. "What are you listening for?" she added, seeing that she had committed herself a little. "She wants a clown like you--she hasn't seen one for some time--to play with. That's why she is anxious for you to come to the house. And right glad I am that she'll make a thorough good fool of you. You deserve it; and she can do it--oh! she can, indeed!--as well as most people."

下午７点钟。公爵打算去花园。突然叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜独自一人来到露台上找他。
“首先，你别以为，”她开始说，“我到你这儿来是来请求原谅的，简直荒唐！你完全是错的。”
公爵没有吭声。
“你有没有错。”
“跟您一样。其实，无论是我还是您，我们俩都没有故意犯什么过错。前天我曾经认为自己有错，而现在我得出结论，不是这么回事。”
“原来你这样想！那好吧，请坐下来听着，因为我不打算站着。”
两人都坐了下来。
“其次，关于那一伙可恶的小子别说一个字，我跟你坐谈１０分钟；我到你这儿来是要问一件事（天知道你想些什么？），如果你哪怕是一个字提到那帮无礼的小子，我马上就起身离开，并且跟你彻底决裂。”
“好，”公爵回答道。
“请问：两个月或两个半月前，复活节左右。你是不是给阿格拉娅寄来过一封信？”
“写过。”
“什么目的？信里写了些什么？把信拿出来！”
叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜的眼睛的的生光，她几乎上焦躁得打颤。
“我这儿没有信，”公爵惊讶而又十分畏怯地说，“如果信还留着，那么是在阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜那里。”
“别耍滑头，你写了些什么？”
“我没有耍滑头，我也什么都不怕。我看不出有什么原因，为什么我不能写信……”
“住口！你以后再说。信里讲些什么？为什么脸红了？”
公爵想了一下。
“我不知道您的想法，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜。我只知道，您很不喜欢这封信。您得同意，我本来可以拒绝回答这样的问题，但是为了向您表示，我并不害怕写过这封信、也不后悔写了这封信，我脸红也绝不是因为这封信（公爵脸红得几乎加了倍），我就给您念这封信，因为我好像还背得出。”
说完，公爵几乎一字不漏地照原信背了出来。
“简直是胡言乱语！在你看来，这种荒谬的言词意味着什么？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜异常专注地听完信后，尖刻地问。
“我自己也完全不知道；我知道，我的感情是比较诚挚的。在那里我曾有过充满生命和巨大希望的时刻。”
“什么希望？”
“很难解释，只不过不是您现在所想到的那种希望，也许是这样……喏，一句话，是未来和欢乐的希望，也许在那里我不是外人，不是外国人，我突然非常喜欢耽在祖国。在一个阳光灿烂的早晨我拿起笔，给她写了信；为什么给她写，我不知道。有时候可是很想有个朋友在身边；看来，我是想有个朋友……”公爵沉默了一会，补充说。
“你恋爱了，是吗？”
“不。我……我就像给妹妹写信；我落款也是用兄长的名义。”
“噢，是故意这样做，我明白。”
“叶莉扎维槽·普罗科菲耶夫娜，回答您这些问题，我感到很不愉快。”
“我知道你难受，但是你难受不难受丝毫不关我的事。听着，回答我老实话，我像面对上访那样：你在对我撒谎还是没有。”
“我没有撒谎。”
“你说没有恋爱，是真的吗？”
“好像、完全是真的。”
“瞧你，‘好像！’，是那男孩转交的？”
“我请求尼古拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇……”
“男孩！男孩！”叶莉扎继塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜激动地打断公爵说，“我根本不知道，哪个是尼古拉，·阿尔达利翁诺维奇。是男孩！”
“是尼古拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇……”
“对你说，是男孩！”
“不，不是男孩，而是尼古拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇，”最后公爵虽然回答得相当轻松，但是很坚定。
“算了，好吧，亲爱的，好吧！我给你记住这一点。”
她用了１分钟克制自己的激动并休息一下。
“那么‘可怜的骑士’又是怎么回事？”
“我根本不知道；这与我无关；是个玩笑罢了。……”
“这下很高兴知道！只不过，难道她会对你有意思？她自己称你是‘畸形儿，和‘白痴’呢。”
“您原可以不用对我说这一点的，”公爵含着责备的口气，几乎是低语着指出。
“别生气。这丫头刚恒任性、疯疯傻傻，娇纵惯了，她要爱上什么人，一定会骂出声来并且当面嘲笑；我也曾经是这样的；只是请别得意，亲爱的，她不属于你的；我不想相信这点，她也永远不会属于你！我对你说是让你马上采取措施。听着，你发誓，你没有跟那一个结婚。”
“叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜，您怎么啦，哪会呢？”公爵差点惊讶得跳起来。
“可是差点结了婚？”
“差点结了婚，”公爵喃喃说着，低下了头。
“怎么，既然是这样，那么是爱上了她了？现在也是为了她而到这里来的？是为了这个女人吗？”
“我来不是为了结婚，”公爵回答说。
“你在世界上有什么神圣的东西？”
“有的。”
“你发誓，你不是来跟那个女人结婚的。”
“随您要我发什么誓都行！”
“我相信；吻我一下。我终于可以自在地松口气了；但是要知道：阿格拉娅不爱你，采取措施吧，只要我活在世上，她是不会属于你的！听见了吗？”
“听见了。”
公爵脸红得无法正视叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜。
“牢牢记住。我曾经像期待上帝一样盼着你来（你是不配的，每天夜里泪水都沾湿了枕头，不是为你，亲爱的，不用担心，我有自己别的痛苦，是永恒的永远是那一个痛苦。但是我又为什么迫不及待地盼你来）我仍然相信，上帝亲自把你派来给我作朋友，作亲兄弟的。除了别洛孔斯卡娅老大婆，我身边没有任何人，何况她也飞走了，再加上她年老愚钝，蠢得像头羊。现在你就简单地回答是或不是：你知道吗，前天她为什么要从马车上喊话？”
“说老实话，我没有参与这件事，我什么都不知道！”
“够了，我相信。现在我对此有其他的想法，但还是昨天上午我还认为全是叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇的过错。前天整整一昼夜和昨天上午都这么想。现在当然不能不同意他们的意见了：很明显，他们把他当傻瓜一样来嘲笑，这里有某种缘由，某种原因，某种目的（就这点令人生疑！而且不成体统！）但是阿格拉娅不会属于他的，” 我对你说明这一点！他纵然是个好人，但是事情就是这样的。我过去动摇过，现在已经打定主意：“先把我放进棺材，埋到地里，然后再嫁女儿吧，，这就是今天上午我对伊万·费奥多罗维奇清清楚楚说的话。你瞧，我是信赖你的，你看到了吧？”
“我看到了，我明白。”
叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜锐利地凝视着公爵；也许，她很想知道，有关叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇的消息对他会产生什么样的印象。
“有关加夫里拉·伊沃尔京的情况你一点也不知道吗？”
“你指的是……我知道很多。”
“你是否知道，他与阿格拉娅有联系？”
“根本不知道，”公爵很惊诧，甚至哆嗦了一下。“怎么，您说，加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇与阿梧拉娅有联系？这不可能！”
“完全是不久前的事。在这里他妹妹整个冬天像老鼠打洞似的为他打通道路。”
“我不相信，”经过一阵思索和激动之后公爵坚走地重复说，“如果有这样的事，我一定会知道的。”
“难道他自己会跑来并伏在你胸前流着泪向你承认吗？！哎，你呀，真是个傻瓜，傻瓜！大家都在欺骗你，就像……就像……你信赖他也不觉得害臊？难道你没看到，他整个儿是在骗你？”
“我清楚地知道，他有时是在欺骗我，”公爵不情愿地低声说，“他也知道，我知道这一点……”他补了一句但没有把话说完。
“你知道这点，却还信赖他！还有这样荒唐的事！不过你有这种事也是必然的。我有什么好惊奇的呢。天哪！什么时候有过这样的人啊！呸！那你知道吗，这个加尼卡，或者这个瓦里娅，他们替她跟纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜扯上了联系？”
“替谁？”公爵激动地问。
“阿格拉娅。”
“我不相信！不可能有那样的事！是什么目的呢？”
他从椅子上跳了起来。
“虽然有证据，我也不相信。真是个任性惯了的丫头，想入非非的丫头，疯疯癫癫的丫头！可恶的丫头，可恶，可恶！一千年我也要断言，她是个可恶的丫头！她们现在全都这个样，连亚历山德拉这只落汤鸡也不例外，但是这丫头可是跳出了手心。但我也是不相信！也许，是因为不愿意相信，”她仿佛自言自语补了一句，“你为什么不到我家来？”突然她又转向公爵问道，“整整三天为什么不来？”她又一次不耐烦地朝他嚷着。
公爵刚开始说明自己的原因，她又打断了他。
“大家都把你看作是傻瓜并欺骗你！你昨天去过城里了；我敢打赌，你是跪着请求这个无赖接受那一万卢布！”
“根本不是，也没有想过，我连看也没看到他，此外，他不是无赖。我收到了他的信。”
“把信拿来看看。”
公爵从公文包里拿出便笺，递给叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜。便笺里写道：
“仁慈的阁下，在人们的眼里，我当然是没有丝毫权利讲自尊的。在世人们看来，我太渺小卑微，谈不上什么自尊。但这是世人的观点，而不是您的看法。我十分确信，仁慈的阁下，您可能比别人好。我不同意多克托连科的观点，在这一信念上我与他有分歧。我永远不会拿您一文钱，您帮助了我的母亲，为此我应该感谢您，虽然这也是因为软弱无能。无论怎样，我是以另一种眼光来看待您的，并且认为有必要告诉您。然后我相信，我们之间不会有任何关系。安季普·布尔多夫斯基。”
“又及：短缺的二百卢布将在近期内如数奉还。”
“胡扯一通！？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜把便笺扔回给公爵，一边作论说，“不值一谈，你在笑什么？”
“您会承认，您读了也是感到愉快的。”
“什么？读这种虚荣心十足的胡扯会感到愉快？难道您没有看见，他们大都狂妄自大、爱面子到疯狂的地步？”
“是的，但他毕竟认了错，与多克托连科分手了，甚至他越是爱面子，他的这种虚荣心越可贵。噢，您真是个小孩子，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜。”
“你最后是想挨我的耳光，还是怎么的？”
“不，根本不想。而是因为您对便笺感到高兴，却又掩盖这一点。您干吗对您的感情觉得不好意思呢？要知道您在所有方面都这样。”
“现在不许你走近我一步，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜气得脸色发白从座位上跳了起来，“从现在起永远不许你到我那里去！”
“可是过了三天您自己又会来叫我去……哎、您怎么不羞愧？这是您最好的感情，您何必为此感到不好意思呢？要知道您只是自己折磨自己。”
“我就是死也不会来叫你，我要忘了你的名字！我已经忘了！”
她撇下公爵朝外奔去。
“不用您吩咐我也已经被禁止去您那儿了！”公爵在她背后喊道。
“什么？谁禁止你的？”
她刹那间转过身来，仿佛用针刺了她似的。公爵犹豫着要不要回答；他觉得，他是无意间说漏了嘴，但是说过头了。
“谁禁止过你？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗得菲耶夫娜怒不可遏地嚷道。
“阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜禁止的……”
“什么时候了你倒说呀！”
“刚才上午她捎信来，永远不许我到你们那儿去。”
叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜呆呆地站在那里，但是她在考虑问题。
“捎的是什么？差遣谁来了？是通过那男孩吗？是口头捎的信？”她突然又大声嚷道。
“我拿到的是便条，”公爵说。
“在哪里？拿来！马上！”
公爵想了一下，但是还是从背心口袋里掏出了一张很随便的纸片，上面写着：
“列夫·尼古拉耶维奇公爵！在发生了那一切之后、如果您打算用拜访我们的别墅来使我吃惊，那么请相信，您会发现，我不在高兴者之列。阿格拉娅·叶潘钦娜。”
叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜思忖了片刻，然后突然奔向公爵，抓住他的手，拖在自己身后就走。
“走！现在就去！现在们要去，马上走，”她异常激动和焦躁地喊着。
“但是要知道您会使我陷于……”
“陷于什么！真是个天真的傻瓜！你简直就不像个男子汉！嘿，现在我将亲眼见到一切……”
“至少总得让我抓顶帽子……”
“喏，你这顶讨厌的帽子，走吧！连挑一顶式样有风度的旧子也不会！……她这是……她这是在刚发生的那件事以后……是一时气急写的，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫喃喃着说，一边一刻也不松开公爵的手，拖着他走，“不久前我袒护过你”，我说过你是个傻瓜，因为你不来……否则她不会写这张糊涂的字条！是张有失体面的字条：对一个高贵的，有教养的、非常聪明的姑娘来说是有失体面的！……”她继续说，“嗯，当然她自己也因为你不去而烦恼，只是她没有考虑到、对白痴是不能这样写的，因为他会照字面来理解的，果然就是这样。你干吗偷听？”她豁然明白说漏了嘴，便大喝了一声。“她需要你这样的会逗人开心的人，好久没有见到你了，她这就是来请你！我真高兴，真高兴，她现在将会取笑挖苦你，你就配这样。而她是善于取笑的，啊，她多会取笑人吗！……”
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 29楼  发表于: 2014-01-18 0

Part 3 Chapter 1
THE Epanchin family, or at least the more serious members of it, were sometimes grieved because they seemed so unlike the rest of the world. They were not quite certain, but had at times a strong suspicion that things did not happen to them as they did to other people. Others led a quiet, uneventful life, while they were subject to continual upheavals. Others kept on the rails without difficulty; they ran off at the slightest obstacle. Other houses were governed by a timid routine; theirs was somehow different. Perhaps Lizabetha Prokofievna was alone in making these fretful observations; the girls, though not wanting in intelligence, were still young; the general was intelligent, too, but narrow, and in any difficulty he was content to say, "H'm!" and leave the matter to his wife. Consequently, on her fell the responsibility. It was not that they distinguished themselves as a family by any particular originality, or that their excursions off the track led to any breach of the proprieties. Oh no.
There was nothing premeditated, there was not even any conscious purpose in it all, and yet, in spite of everything, the family, although highly respected, was not quite what every highly respected family ought to be. For a long time now Lizabetha Prokofievna had had it in her mind that all the trouble was owing to her "unfortunate character, "and this added to her distress. She blamed her own stupid unconventional "eccentricity." Always restless, always on the go, she constantly seemed to lose her way, and to get into trouble over the simplest and more ordinary affairs of life.
We said at the beginning of our story, that the Epanchins were liked and esteemed by their neighbours. In spite of his humble origin, Ivan Fedorovitch himself was received everywhere with respect. He deserved this, partly on account of his wealth and position, partly because, though limited, he was really a very good fellow. But a certain limitation of mind seems to be an indispensable asset, if not to all public personages, at least to all serious financiers. Added to this, his manner was modest and unassuming; he knew when to be silent, yet never allowed himself to be trampled upon. Also--and this was more important than all-- he had the advantage of being under exalted patronage.
As to Lizabetha Prokofievna, she, as the reader knows, belonged to an aristocratic family. True, Russians think more of influential friends than of birth, but she had both. She was esteemed and even loved by people of consequence in society, whose example in receiving her was therefore followed by others. It seems hardly necessary to remark that her family worries and anxieties had little or no foundation, or that her imagination increased them to an absurd degree; but if you have a wart on your forehead or nose, you imagine that all the world is looking at it, and that people would make fun of you because of it, even if you had discovered America! Doubtless Lizabetha Prokofievna was considered "eccentric" in society, but she was none the less esteemed: the pity was that she was ceasing to believe in that esteem. When she thought of her daughters, she said to herself sorrowfully that she was a hindrance rather than a help to their future, that her character and temper were absurd, ridiculous, insupportable. Naturally, she put the blame on her surroundings, and from morning to night was quarrelling with her husband and children, whom she really loved to the point of self-sacrifice, even, one might say, of passion.
She was, above all distressed by the idea that her daughters might grow up "eccentric," like herself; she believed that no other society girls were like them. "They are growing into Nihilists!" she repeated over and over again. For years she had tormented herself with this idea, and with the question: "Why don't they get married?"
"It is to annoy their mother; that is their one aim in life; it can be nothing else. The fact is it is all of a piece with these modern ideas, that wretched woman's question! Six months ago Aglaya took a fancy to cut off her magnificent hair. Why, even I, when I was young, had nothing like it! The scissors were in her hand, and I had to go down on my knees and implore her... She did it, I know, from sheer mischief, to spite her mother, for she is a naughty, capricious girl, a real spoiled child spiteful and mischievous to a degree! And then Alexandra wanted to shave her head, not from caprice or mischief, but, like a little fool, simply because Aglaya persuaded her she would sleep better without her hair, and not suffer from headache! And how many suitors have they not had during the last five years! Excellent offers, too! What more do they want? Why don't they get married? For no other reason than to vex their mother--none--none!"
But Lizabetha Prokofievna felt somewhat consoled when she could say that one of her girls, Adelaida, was settled at last. "It will be one off our hands!" she declared aloud, though in private she expressed herself with greater tenderness. The engagement was both happy and suitable, and was therefore approved in society. Prince S. was a distinguished man, he had money, and his future wife was devoted to him; what more could be desired? Lizabetha Prokofievna had felt less anxious about this daughter, however, although she considered her artistic tastes suspicious. But to make up for them she was, as her mother expressed it, "merry," and had plenty of "common-sense." It was Aglaya's future which disturbed her most. With regard to her eldest daughter, Alexandra, the mother never quite knew whether there was cause for anxiety or not. Sometimes she felt as if there was nothing to be expected from her. She was twenty-five now, and must be fated to be an old maid, and "with such beauty, too!" The mother spent whole nights in weeping and lamenting, while all the time the cause of her grief slumbered peacefully. "What is the matter with her? Is she a Nihilist, or simply a fool?"
But Lizabetha Prokofievna knew perfectly well how unnecessary was the last question. She set a high value on Alexandra Ivanovna's judgment, and often consulted her in difficulties; but that she was a 'wet hen' she never for a moment doubted. "She is so calm; nothing rouses her--though wet hens are not always calm! Oh! I can't understand it!" Her eldest daughter inspired Lizabetha with a kind of puzzled compassion. She did not feel this in Aglaya's case, though the latter was her idol. It may be said that these outbursts and epithets, such as "wet hen "(in which the maternal solicitude usually showed itself), only made Alexandra laugh. Sometimes the most trivial thing annoyed Mrs. Epanchin, and drove her into a frenzy. For instance, Alexandra Ivanovna liked to sleep late, and was always dreaming, though her dreams had the peculiarity of being as innocent and naive as those of a child of seven; and the very innocence of her dreams annoyed her mother. Once she dreamt of nine hens, and this was the cause of quite a serious quarrel--no one knew why. Another time she had--it was most unusual--a dream with a spark of originality in it. She dreamt of a monk in a dark room, into which she was too frightened to go. Adelaida and Aglaya rushed off with shrieks of laughter to relate this to their mother, but she was quite angry, and said her daughters were all fools.
"H'm! she is as stupid as a fool! A veritable 'wet hen'! Nothing excites her; and yet she is not happy; some days it makes one miserable only to look at her! Why is she unhappy, I wonder?" At times Lizabetha Prokofievna put this question to her husband, and as usual she spoke in the threatening tone of one who demands an immediate answer. Ivan Fedorovitch would frown, shrug his shoulders, and at last give his opinion: "She needs a husband!"
"God forbid that he should share your ideas, Ivan Fedorovitch!" his wife flashed back. "Or that he should be as gross and churlish as you!"
The general promptly made his escape, and Lizabetha Prokofievna after a while grew calm again. That evening, of course, she would be unusually attentive, gentle, and respectful to her "gross and churlish" husband, her "dear, kind Ivan Fedorovitch," for she had never left off loving him. She was even still "in love" with him. He knew it well, and for his part held her in the greatest esteem.
But the mother's great and continual anxiety was Aglaya. "She is exactly like me--my image in everything," said Mrs. Epanchin to herself. "A tyrant! A real little demon! A Nihilist! Eccentric, senseless and mischievous! Good Lord, how unhappy she will be!"
But as we said before, the fact of Adelaida's approaching marriage was balm to the mother. For a whole month she forgot her fears and worries.
Adelaida's fate was settled; and with her name that of Aglaya's was linked, in society gossip. People whispered that Aglaya, too, was "as good as engaged;" and Aglaya always looked so sweet and behaved so well (during this period), that the mother's heart was full of joy. Of course, Evgenie Pavlovitch must be thoroughly studied first, before the final step should be taken; but, really, how lovely dear Aglaya had become--she actually grew more beautiful every day! And then--Yes, and then--this abominable prince showed his face again, and everything went topsy-turvy at once, and everyone seemed as mad as March hares.
What had really happened?
If it had been any other family than the Epanchins', nothing particular would have happened. But, thanks to Mrs. Epanchin's invariable fussiness and anxiety, there could not be the slightest hitch in the simplest matters of everyday life, but she immediately foresaw the most dreadful and alarming consequences, and suffered accordingly.
What then must have been her condition, when, among all the imaginary anxieties and calamities which so constantly beset her, she now saw looming ahead a serious cause for annoyance-- something really likely to arouse doubts and suspicions!
"How dared they, how DARED they write that hateful anonymous letter informing me that Aglaya is in communication with Nastasia Philipovna?" she thought, as she dragged the prince along towards her own house, and again when she sat him down at the round table where the family was already assembled. "How dared they so much as THINK of such a thing? I should DIE with shame if I thought there was a particle of truth in it, or if I were to show the letter to Aglaya herself! Who dares play these jokes upon US, the Epanchins? WHY didn't we go to the Yelagin instead of coming down here? I TOLD you we had better go to the Yelagin this summer, Ivan Fedorovitch. It's all your fault. I dare say it was that Varia who sent the letter. It's all Ivan Fedorovitch. THAT woman is doing it all for him, I know she is, to show she can make a fool of him now just as she did when he used to give her pearls.
"But after all is said, we are mixed up in it. Your daughters are mixed up in it, Ivan Fedorovitch; young ladies in society, young ladies at an age to be married; they were present, they heard everything there was to hear. They were mixed up with that other scene, too, with those dreadful youths. You must be pleased to remember they heard it all. I cannot forgive that wretched prince. I never shall forgive him! And why, if you please, has Aglaya had an attack of nerves for these last three days? Why has she all but quarrelled with her sisters, even with Alexandra-- whom she respects so much that she always kisses her hands as though she were her mother? What are all these riddles of hers that we have to guess? What has Gavrila Ardalionovitch to do with it? Why did she take upon herself to champion him this morning, and burst into tears over it? Why is there an allusion to that cursed 'poor knight' in the anonymous letter? And why did I rush off to him just now like a lunatic, and drag him back here? I do believe I've gone mad at last. What on earth have I done now? To talk to a young man about my daughter's secrets--and secrets having to do with himself, too! Thank goodness, he's an idiot, and a friend of the house! Surely Aglaya hasn't fallen in love with such a gaby! What an idea! Pfu! we ought all to be put under glass cases--myself first of all--and be shown off as curiosities, at ten copecks a peep!"
"I shall never forgive you for all this, Ivan Fedorovitch--never! Look at her now. Why doesn't she make fun of him? She said she would, and she doesn't. Look there! She stares at him with all her eyes, and doesn't move; and yet she told him not to come. He looks pale enough; and that abominable chatterbox, Evgenie Pavlovitch, monopolizes the whole of the conversation. Nobody else can get a word in. I could soon find out all about everything if I could only change the subject."
The prince certainly was very pale. He sat at the table and seemed to be feeling, by turns, sensations of alarm and rapture.
Oh, how frightened he was of looking to one side--one particular corner--whence he knew very well that a pair of dark eyes were watching him intently, and how happy he was to think that he was once more among them, and occasionally hearing that well-known voice, although she had written and forbidden him to come again!
"What on earth will she say to me, I wonder?" he thought to himself.
He had not said a word yet; he sat silent and listened to Evgenie Pavlovitch's eloquence. The latter had never appeared so happy and excited as on this evening. The prince listened to him, but for a long time did not take in a word he said.
Excepting Ivan Fedorovitch, who had not as yet returned from town, the whole family was present. Prince S. was there; and they all intended to go out to hear the band very soon.
Colia arrived presently and joined the circle. "So he is received as usual, after all," thought the prince.
The Epanchins' country-house was a charming building, built after the model of a Swiss chalet, and covered with creepers. It was surrounded on all sides by a flower garden, and the family sat, as a rule, on the open verandah as at the prince's house.
The subject under discussion did not appear to be very popular with the assembly, and some would have been delighted to change it; but Evgenie would not stop holding forth, and the prince's arrival seemed to spur him on to still further oratorical efforts.
Lizabetha Prokofievna frowned, but had not as yet grasped the subject, which seemed to have arisen out of a heated argument. Aglaya sat apart, almost in the corner, listening in stubborn silence.
"Excuse me," continued Evgenie Pavlovitch hotly, "I don't say a word against liberalism. Liberalism is not a sin, it is a necessary part of a great whole, which whole would collapse and fall to pieces without it. Liberalism has just as much right to exist as has the most moral conservatism; but I am attacking RUSSIAN liberalism; and I attack it for the simple reason that a Russian liberal is not a Russian liberal, he is a non-Russian liberal. Show me a real Russian liberal, and I'll kiss him before you all, with pleasure."
"If he cared to kiss you, that is," said Alexandra, whose cheeks were red with irritation and excitement.
"Look at that, now," thought the mother to herself, "she does nothing but sleep and eat for a year at a time, and then suddenly flies out in the most incomprehensible way!"
The prince observed that Alexandra appeared to be angry with Evgenie, because he spoke on a serious subject in a frivolous manner, pretending to be in earnest, but with an under-current of irony.
"I was saying just now, before you came in, prince, that there has been nothing national up to now, about our liberalism, and nothing the liberals do, or have done, is in the least degree national. They are drawn from two classes only, the old landowning class, and clerical families--"
"How, nothing that they have done is Russian?" asked Prince S.
"It may be Russian, but it is not national. Our liberals are not Russian, nor are our conservatives, and you may be sure that the nation does not recognize anything that has been done by the landed gentry, or by the seminarists, or what is to be done either."
"Come, that's good! How can you maintain such a paradox? If you are serious, that is. I cannot allow such a statement about the landed proprietors to pass unchallenged. Why, you are a landed proprietor yourself!" cried Prince S. hotly.
"I suppose you'll say there is nothing national about our literature either?" said Alexandra.
"Well, I am not a great authority on literary questions, but I certainly do hold that Russian literature is not Russian, except perhaps Lomonosoff, Pouschkin and Gogol."
"In the first place, that is a considerable admission, and in the second place, one of the above was a peasant, and the other two were both landed proprietors!"
"Quite so, but don't be in such a hurry! For since it has been the part of these three men, and only these three, to say something absolutely their own, not borrowed, so by this very fact these three men become really national. If any Russian shall have done or said anything really and absolutely original, he is to be called national from that moment, though he may not be able to talk the Russian language; still he is a national Russian. I consider that an axiom. But we were not speaking of literature; we began by discussing the socialists. Very well then, I insist that there does not exist one single Russian socialist. There does not, and there has never existed such a one, because all socialists are derived from the two classes--the landed proprietors, and the seminarists. All our eminent socialists are merely old liberals of the class of landed proprietors, men who were liberals in the days of serfdom. Why do you laugh? Give me their books, give me their studies, their memoirs, and though I am not a literary critic, yet I will prove as clear as day that every chapter and every word of their writings has been the work of a former landed proprietor of the old school. You'll find that all their raptures, all their generous transports are proprietary, all their woes and their tears, proprietary; all proprietary or seminarist! You are laughing again, and you, prince, are smiling too. Don't you agree with me?"
It was true enough that everybody was laughing, the prince among them.
"I cannot tell you on the instant whether I agree with you or not," said the latter, suddenly stopping his laughter, and starting like a schoolboy caught at mischief. "But, I assure you, I am listening to you with extreme gratification."
So saying, he almost panted with agitation, and a cold sweat stood upon his forehead. These were his first words since he had entered the house; he tried to lift his eyes, and look around, but dared not; Evgenie Pavlovitch noticed his confusion, and smiled.
"I'll just tell you one fact, ladies and gentlemen," continued the latter, with apparent seriousness and even exaltation of manner, but with a suggestion of "chaff" behind every word, as though he were laughing in his sleeve at his own nonsense--"a fact, the discovery of which, I believe, I may claim to have made by myself alone. At all events, no other has ever said or written a word about it; and in this fact is expressed the whole essence of Russian liberalism of the sort which I am now considering.
"In the first place, what is liberalism, speaking generally, but an attack (whether mistaken or reasonable, is quite another question) upon the existing order of things? Is this so? Yes. Very well. Then my 'fact' consists in this, that RUSSIAN liberalism is not an attack upon the existing order of things, but an attack upon the very essence of things themselves--indeed, on the things themselves; not an attack on the Russian order of things, but on Russia itself. My Russian liberal goes so far as to reject Russia; that is, he hates and strikes his own mother. Every misfortune and mishap of the mother-country fills him with mirth, and even with ecstasy. He hates the national customs, Russian history, and everything. If he has a justification, it is that he does not know what he is doing, and believes that his hatred of Russia is the grandest and most profitable kind of liberalism. (You will often find a liberal who is applauded and esteemed by his fellows, but who is in reality the dreariest, blindest, dullest of conservatives, and is not aware of the fact.) This hatred for Russia has been mistaken by some of our 'Russian liberals' for sincere love of their country, and they boast that they see better than their neighbours what real love of one's country should consist in. But of late they have grown, more candid and are ashamed of the expression 'love of country,' and have annihilated the very spirit of the words as something injurious and petty and undignified. This is the truth, and I hold by it; but at the same time it is a phenomenon which has not been repeated at any other time or place; and therefore, though I hold to it as a fact, yet I recognize that it is an accidental phenomenon, and may likely enough pass away. There can be no such thing anywhere else as a liberal who really hates his country; and how is this fact to be explained among US? By my original statement that a Russian liberal is NOT a RUSSIAN liberal--that's the only explanation that I can see."
"I take all that you have said as a joke," said Prince S. seriously.
"I have not seen all kinds of liberals, and cannot, therefore, set myself up as a judge," said Alexandra, "but I have heard all you have said with indignation. You have taken some accidental case and twisted it into a universal law, which is unjust."
"Accidental case!" said Evgenie Pavlovitch. "Do you consider it an accidental case, prince?"
"I must also admit," said the prince, "that I have not seen much, or been very far into the question; but I cannot help thinking that you are more or less right, and that Russian liberalism-- that phase of it which you are considering, at least--really is sometimes inclined to hate Russia itself, and not only its existing order of things in general. Of course this is only PARTIALLY the truth; you cannot lay down the law for all..."
The prince blushed and broke off, without finishing what he meant to say.
In spite of his shyness and agitation, he could not help being greatly interested in the conversation. A special characteristic of his was the naive candour with which he always listened to arguments which interested him, and with which he answered any questions put to him on the subject at issue. In the very expression of his face this naivete was unmistakably evident, this disbelief in the insincerity of others, and unsuspecting disregard of irony or humour in their words.
But though Evgenie Pavlovitch had put his questions to the prince with no other purpose but to enjoy the joke of his simple-minded seriousness, yet now, at his answer, he was surprised into some seriousness himself, and looked gravely at Muishkin as though he had not expected that sort of answer at all.
"Why, how strange!" he ejaculated. "You didn't answer me seriously, surely, did you?"
"Did not you ask me the question seriously" inquired the prince, in amazement.
Everybody laughed.
"Oh, trust HIM for that!" said Adelaida. "Evgenie Pavlovitch turns everything and everybody he can lay hold of to ridicule. You should hear the things he says sometimes, apparently in perfect seriousness."
"In my opinion the conversation has been a painful one throughout, and we ought never to have begun it," said Alexandra. "We were all going for a walk--"
"Come along then," said Evgenie; "it's a glorious evening. But, to prove that this time I was speaking absolutely seriously, and especially to prove this to the prince (for you, prince, have interested me exceedingly, and I swear to you that I am not quite such an ass as I like to appear sometimes, although I am rather an ass, I admit), and--well, ladies and gentlemen, will you allow me to put just one more question to the prince, out of pure curiosity? It shall be the last. This question came into my mind a couple of hours since (you see, prince, I do think seriously at times), and I made my own decision upon it; now I wish to hear what the prince will say to it."
"We have just used the expression 'accidental case.' This is a significant phrase; we often hear it. Well, not long since everyone was talking and reading about that terrible murder of six people on the part of a--young fellow, and of the extraordinary speech of the counsel for the defence, who observed that in the poverty-stricken condition of the criminal it must have come NATURALLY into his head to kill these six people. I do not quote his words, but that is the sense of them, or something very like it. Now, in my opinion, the barrister who put forward this extraordinary plea was probably absolutely convinced that he was stating the most liberal, the most humane, the most enlightened view of the case that could possibly be brought forward in these days. Now, was this distortion, this capacity for a perverted way of viewing things, a special or accidental case, or is such a general rule?"
Everyone laughed at this.
"A special case--accidental, of course!" cried Alexandra and Adelaida.
"Let me remind you once more, Evgenie," said Prince S., "that your joke is getting a little threadbare."
"What do you think about it, prince?" asked Evgenie, taking no notice of the last remark, and observing Muishkin's serious eyes fixed upon his face. "What do you think--was it a special or a usual case--the rule, or an exception? I confess I put the question especially for you."
"No, I don't think it was a special case," said the prince, quietly, but firmly.
"My dear fellow!" cried Prince S., with some annoyance, "don't you see that he is chaffing you? He is simply laughing at you, and wants to make game of you."
"I thought Evgenie Pavlovitch was talking seriously," said the prince, blushing and dropping his eyes.
"My dear prince," continued Prince S. "remember what you and I were saying two or three months ago. We spoke of the fact that in our newly opened Law Courts one could already lay one's finger upon so many talented and remarkable young barristers. How pleased you were with the state of things as we found it, and how glad I was to observe your delight! We both said it was a matter to be proud of; but this clumsy defence that Evgenie mentions, this strange argument CAN, of course, only be an accidental case --one in a thousand!"
The prince reflected a little, but very soon he replied, with absolute conviction in his tone, though he still spoke somewhat shyly and timidly:
"I only wished to say that this 'distortion,' as Evgenie Pavlovitch expressed it, is met with very often, and is far more the general rule than the exception, unfortunately for Russia. So much so, that if this distortion were not the general rule, perhaps these dreadful crimes would be less frequent."
"Dreadful crimes? But I can assure you that crimes just as dreadful, and probably more horrible, have occurred before our times, and at all times, and not only here in Russia, but everywhere else as well. And in my opinion it is not at all likely that such murders will cease to occur for a very long time to come. The only difference is that in former times there was less publicity, while now everyone talks and writes freely about such things--which fact gives the impression that such crimes have only now sprung into existence. That is where your mistake lies--an extremely natural mistake, I assure you, my dear fellow!" said Prince S.
"I know that there were just as many, and just as terrible, crimes before our times. Not long since I visited a convict prison and made acquaintance with some of the criminals. There were some even more dreadful criminals than this one we have been speaking of--men who have murdered a dozen of their fellow- creatures, and feel no remorse whatever. But what I especially noticed was this, that the very most hopeless and remorseless murderer--however hardened a criminal he may be--still KNOWS THAT HE IS A CRIMINAL; that is, he is conscious that he has acted wickedly, though he may feel no remorse whatever. And they were all like this. Those of whom Evgenie Pavlovitch has spoken, do not admit that they are criminals at all; they think they had a right to do what they did, and that they were even doing a good deed, perhaps. I consider there is the greatest difference between the two cases. And recollect--it was a YOUTH, at the particular age which is most helplessly susceptible to the distortion of ideas!"
Prince S. was now no longer smiling; he gazed at the prince in bewilderment.
Alexandra, who had seemed to wish to put in her word when the prince began, now sat silent, as though some sudden thought had caused her to change her mind about speaking.
Evgenie Pavlovitch gazed at him in real surprise, and this time his expression of face had no mockery in it whatever.
"What are you looking so surprised about, my friend?" asked Mrs. Epanchin, suddenly. "Did you suppose he was stupider than yourself, and was incapable of forming his own opinions, or what?"
"No! Oh no! Not at all!" said Evgenie. "But--how is it, prince, that you--(excuse the question, will you?)--if you are capable of observing and seeing things as you evidently do, how is it that you saw nothing distorted or perverted in that claim upon your property, which you acknowledged a day or two since; and which was full of arguments founded upon the most distorted views of right and wrong?"
"I'll tell you what, my friend," cried Mrs. Epanchin, of a sudden, "here are we all sitting here and imagining we are very clever, and perhaps laughing at the prince, some of us, and meanwhile he has received a letter this very day in which that same claimant renounces his claim, and begs the prince's pardon. There I we don't often get that sort of letter; and yet we are not ashamed to walk with our noses in the air before him."
"And Hippolyte has come down here to stay," said Colia, suddenly.
"What! has he arrived?" said the prince, starting up.
"Yes, I brought him down from town just after you had left the house."
"There now! It's just like him," cried Lizabetha Prokofievna, boiling over once more, and entirely oblivious of the fact that she had just taken the prince's part. "I dare swear that you went up to town yesterday on purpose to get the little wretch to do you the great honour of coming to stay at your house. You did go up to town, you know you did--you said so yourself! Now then, did you, or did you not, go down on your knees and beg him to come, confess!"
"No, he didn't, for I saw it all myself," said Colia. "On the contrary, Hippolyte kissed his hand twice and thanked him; and all the prince said was that he thought Hippolyte might feel better here in the country!"
"Don't, Colia,--what is the use of saying all that?" cried the prince, rising and taking his hat.
"Where are you going to now?" cried Mrs. Epanchin.
"Never mind about him now, prince," said Colia. "He is all right and taking a nap after the journey. He is very happy to be here; but I think perhaps it would be better if you let him alone for today,--he is very sensitive now that he is so ill--and he might be embarrassed if you show him too much attention at first. He is decidedly better today, and says he has not felt so well for the last six months, and has coughed much less, too."
The prince observed that Aglaya came out of her corner and approached the table at this point.
He did not dare look at her, but he was conscious, to the very tips of his fingers, that she was gazing at him, perhaps angrily; and that she had probably flushed up with a look of fiery indignation in her black eyes.
"It seems to me, Mr. Colia, that you were very foolish to bring your young friend down--if he is the same consumptive boy who wept so profusely, and invited us all to his own funeral," remarked Evgenie Pavlovitch. "He talked so eloquently about the blank wall outside his bedroom window, that I'm sure he will never support life here without it. "
"I think so too," said Mrs. Epanchin; "he will quarrel with you, and be off," and she drew her workbox towards her with an air of dignity, quite oblivious of the fact that the family was about to start for a walk in the park.
"Yes, I remember he boasted about the blank wall in an extraordinary way," continued Evgenie, "and I feel that without that blank wall he will never be able to die eloquently; and he does so long to die eloquently!"
"Oh, you must forgive him the blank wall," said the prince, quietly. "He has come down to see a few trees now, poor fellow."
"Oh, I forgive him with all my heart; you may tell him so if you like," laughed Evgenie.
"I don't think you should take it quite like that," said the prince, quietly, and without removing his eyes from the carpet. "I think it is more a case of his forgiving you "
"Forgiving me! why so? What have I done to need his forgiveness?"
"If you don't understand, then--but of course, you do understand. He wished--he wished to bless you all round and to have your blessing--before he died--that's all."
"My dear prince," began Prince S., hurriedly, exchanging glances with some of those present, "you will not easily find heaven on earth, and yet you seem to expect to. Heaven is a difficult thing to find anywhere, prince; far more difficult than appears to that good heart of yours. Better stop this conversation, or we shall all be growing quite disturbed in our minds, and--"
"Let's go and hear the band, then," said Lizabetha Prokofievna, angrily rising from her place.
The rest of the company followed her example.

时常不断有人抱怨，说我们没有实干的人；比方说搞政治的人很多；将军也很多；各种各样的主管人员，无论需要多少，立即可以要多少找到多少，可是实干的人却没有。至少大家都在抱怨没有。据说，在有些铁路上连像样的工作人员都没有；某家轮船公司要建立一套勉勉强强可以将就的管理班子，据说，怎么也做不到。你听说吗，在一条新开辟的铁路线上火车在桥上相撞还是翻车了；报上写着，火车差点在皑皑雪野上过冬，开了才几小时，在雪地里却停了五天。还有人说，九千普特的商品堆放在一个地方两三个月等待运发以至腐烂，据说（不过，这简直难以置信）。某个商人的雇员缠着主管人员，也就是某个站长，要求发运货物，可是站长不是发货是用刷耳光进行管理，而且还用“一时气急”来解释自己这种管理方式。似乎国家机关中的衙门多得想都不敢想；大家都供过职，大家都在供职，大家都有意供职，似乎，这么多的人才，怎么会组建不起一套像样的轮船公司的管理班子呢？
对此有时候得到的是极为简单的回答，简单得甚至叫人不相信这样的解释。确实，据说，我国大家都供过公职或正在供公职，这是按照最好的日耳曼的模式从远祖到后代已经延续了两百年的传统，但是担任公职的人却是最不实干的人，这发展到了这种地步：不久前，脱离现实，缺少实际知识在公职人员之间甚至几乎被认为是最高尚的美德和受推荐的理由。不过，我们白白议论了公职人员，我们想讲的其实是实干的人。这里没有疑问，胆小怕事、完全缺少个人的主动精神常常被我们认为是一个实干的人最主要和最好的特征，甚至现在还这么看。但是，如果认为这种意见是指责，又何必仅仅谴责自己呢？缺少独创性自古以来在全世界到处总是被看做一个干练、能干、实干所具备的第一品质和最好的推荐理曲。至少有百分之九十九的人（这还是至少）抱有这种想法，只有百分之一的人过去和现在经常持有另一种看法。
发明家和天才在开始自己生涯（也常常在生命结束）时几乎总是在社会上被视为不比傻瓜好多少的人，这可是最因循守旧的意见，太为众人所晓了。例如，几十年间大家都把钱拿到抵押银行里去，按百分之四的利息存到那里几十亿，那么，在没有抵押银行时，大家自然就只有发挥自己的主动性，这亿万资金的大部分必然丧失在狂热的股票买卖中或者落到骗子手中，这甚至是符合体面和品行端正的要求的。正是品行端正的要求；既然品行端正的谨小慎微和体面的缺少独创性，按照公认的见解，在我国至今还是一个能干正派的人不可或缺的品质，那么突然发生改变就会是太不正派，甚至太不体面。比如，一个柔爱自己孩子的母亲，如果她的儿子或者女儿将来要稍稍越出轨道，她不会吓坏和吓出病来的：“不，最好还是幸福富足地过日子，不要独具一格”，每个母亲在摇蓝里自己的孩子时都这么想。我们的保姆在摇孩子入睡的同时，自古以来念念有词，轻声哼唱着：“日后一身金，官衔至将军！”就这样，连我们的保姆也认为将军衔是俄国幸福的极限，因而也是太平安康、美满幸福的最普遍的民族理想。事实是，考试及格、任职３５年，最后我们谁不能当上将军并在抵押银行里存上一笔钱呢？这样，一个俄国人几乎无须任何努力，最终就能得到能干和实干的人的称号。实质上，我国不能当将军的只有富于独创性的，换句话说，就是不安分的人。也许，这里有某种误解；但是，总的来说，这好像是正确的，我们的社会在确定实干家的理想时完全是对的。但是我们毕竟说了大多的多余话；其实，我们只是想就有关我们熟悉的叶潘钦一家做些说明。这些人，至少是这个家庭中最有头脑的成员，经常会对几乎是他们共有的上种家庭品质感到痛苦，因为这种品质与我们刚才所议论的美德是直接对立的。他们对事实并不完全理解（因为很难理解它），他们有时仍然怀疑，他们家里的一切似乎和人家不一样。人家家里平平稳稳，他们家里却别别扭扭；人家都沿着轨道滚动，而他们却时时跳出轨道；人家时时刻刻规规矩矩谨小慎微。而他们不是这样。确实，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜甚至过分大惊小怪，但毕竟这不是他们渴念的那种世俗的规规矩矩的谨小慎微。其实，大概也只有叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜一个人在担忧不安：小姐们还年轻，虽然她们很有洞察力，对世事持讽刺的态度，而将军尽管也具洞实力（不过，颇为费劲），但在为难的情况下只会说：嗯，因此最后便把一切希望寄托在叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜身上。所以，她也就肩负着责任。比方说，并菲是这个家庭有什么自己的主动精神或者自觉追求独特性而跃出轨道，那就完全是不体面的。噢，不！真正他说，丝毫没有这样的事，也就是说没有任何自觉提出的目的，而最终的结果仍然是，叶潘钦家虽然非常受人尊敬，但毕竟不像一般受人尊敬的家庭应该的那样。近来叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜开始把一切都归罪于自己一个人和自己那“倒霉的”性格，阿格拉娅更加深了她的痛苦。她自己时常痛骂自己是个“愚蠢的，有失体面的怪女人”，疑神疑鬼得自寻烦恼，经常心绪纷乱，在最平常的冲突中也会束手无策而且总是夸大不幸。
还是在故事开始的时候我们已经提到，叶潘钦一家享有普遍的真正的尊敬。甚至伊万·费奥多罗维奇本人尽管出身愚昧，却不容置疑地到处受到尊敬。他之所以能值得尊敬，第一是因为他是个富有的人并且是个“数得着的人”，第二是因为他完全是个正派的人，虽然才智不高。但是头脑有些愚钝如果不是所有事业家似乎必须具备的品质，那么也至少是所有认真赚钱的人应该有的特点。最后一点，将军有规规矩矩的风范，为人谦逊，善于沉默同时也不让别人踩自己的脚，不光因为他是个有将军身份的人，也因为他是个正直和高尚的人。更重要的是，他是个有着强有力靠山的人。至于说到叶莉扎维塔·普罗科罪耶夫娜，那么前面已经说明过，出身很好，虽然我们现在不大看重出身，如果没有必要的关系的话是这样。而她毕竟是有关系的、有那么一些人尊敬她，而且还喜欢她，自然，在他们后面大家也就应该尊敬和善待她了。没有疑问，她的家庭烦恼是没有根据的，原因是微不足道的，而且被夸大到可笑的程度；但是如果谁的鼻子上或者额头上长了个疣子，那么总会觉得，对所有的人来说世上过去和现在就只有一件事，那就是看您长的疣子，嘲笑它，谴责它，即使您发现了美洲新大陆也于事无补。毫无疑问，在社交界叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜确实被看作是个“怪女人”，但与此同时，毫无疑义都尊敬她；而叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜终于不再相信人家尊敬她，这就是全部不幸的症结。望着自己的女儿们，她为怀疑所苦恼，她担心自己不断地会有什么地方阻碍着她们的前程，觉得自己的性格可笑，有失体面，令人难以忍受，为此，当然总是不停地指责自己的女儿和伊万·费奥多罗维奇，整天跟他们吵架，而同时又爱他们，爱到忘我，几乎到狂热的地步。
最使她苦恼的是，她怀疑她的女儿们正在变成跟她一样的“怪女人”，而像她们这样的小姐在上流社会是没有的，也是不应该有的。“她们只会长成虚无主义者！”她时常暗自说。这一年里，特别是最近这段时间，这个忧心的启头在她头脑里越来越强烈。“首先，她们为什么不出嫁？”她时刻询问自己。“为的是让母亲烦恼，她们就把这看做是自己的生活目的，当然是这样，因为这一切是新思潮，这一切是可诅咒的妇女问题！半年前阿格拉娅不是曾经贸然提出来要剪掉自己那绝好的秀发吗了（天哪，我那个时候根本就没有这么好的头发！）不是剪刀都已经拿在手里了吗？不是跪下来求她才没剪的吗？……就算这一个是出了恶意这么做，要折磨母亲，因为这丫头心狠、任性、娇纵惯了，但主要是心狠，心狠、心狠！可是这个胖胖的亚历山德拉难道不也是跟在她后面竭力要剪自己那一络络长发吗？她可已经不是因为恶意，不是因为任性，而是真心诚意的，阿格拉娅使这个傻瓜相信了，没有头发她睡起觉来就会安宁些，头也不会痛了。已经五年了，有过多多少少多多少少未婚夫供她们挑啊！而且确实有很好的人，甚至是非常出众的人！她们还要等什么，还要找什么？只是要让母亲气恼，没有别的任何原因！没有任何原因，绝对没有！”
终于，对于的她这颗母亲的心来说盼到了太阳升起；至少是一个女儿，至少是给阿杰莱达安排好了亲事。“那怕是从肩上卸掉一个也好！”有时必须得说出来时，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜会这样说（她暗自思忖时的表达则无比温柔）而且整个事情进行得很好，很体面；连上流社会谈起来也怀有敬意。这个人有名声，是公爵，有财产，人又好，加上称她的心，难道还有更好的？但是对阿杰莱达比起对另外两个女儿来，她原先就较少担心，虽然她那种艺本家的习性有时也使叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜不停地怀疑的心非常困惑。“然而她的生性快活，同时又很有理智，看来，这丫头不会倒霉，”她终于有所安慰。对阿格拉娅她是最为担惊受怕的了。至于说到大女儿亚历山德拉，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜自己也不知道，该怎么办：要不要为她担心？她有时觉得，“这丫头彻底完了，２５岁了，看来，就做个老姑娘了。而她，又“这么漂亮！……”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜甚至夜里常为她流泪，而就在那些夜里亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜却睡得最安宁。“她是个什么人，是虚无主义者还是不过是个傻瓜？”她并不傻、其实，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜对此丝毫也不存怀疑；她是非常尊重亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜的见解并且喜欢跟她商量。至于说她像只 “落汤鸡”，也是不存任何疑问的：“她安宁得推也推不动！不过，‘落汤鸡’也有不安宁的，唉！我可完全被她们弄糊涂了！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜对亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜有一种难以解释的同情和好感，这种感情甚于对被她看做是偶像的阿格拉娅。但是，易动肝火的乖戾（主要的，这正表现了母亲的关切和喜爱之情），招惹生事，诸如“落汤鸡”这样的称呼只是使亚历山德拉觉得好笑。有时甚至达到这样的地步：一点点小事也会使叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜气得不得了，大发脾气。比如，亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜喜欢睡懒觉，通常要做许多梦；但是她的梦往往异常空泛和幼稚——对７岁的孩子来说还差不多；于是，这种幼稚的梦境也不知为什么使妈妈生气。有一次亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜在梦里见到了九只母鸡，竟因此引出了她和母亲之间的一场正儿八经的争吵。为什么？很难解释清楚，有一次，就只一次，她总算梦见了什么似乎是独特的梦境：她看见了一个和尚，他一个人在漆黑的房间里，她就一直怕进那个房间。这个梦马上就由两个哈哈大笑的妹妹喜盈盈地转告给叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜听了，但奴蚂又生气了，把她们三人都称为傻瓜。“哼！瞧她像个傻瓜似的那么安分，却完全是只‘落汤鸡’，椎也推不动，可还忧心忡忡，有时候看起来还真忧郁得很！她在忧伤什么，忧伤什么？”有时候她向伊万·费奥多罗维奇提这个问题，通常是歇斯底里地、威严地，期待着立即回答。伊万·费奥多罗维奇嗯啊哈的，皱着眉头，耸耸肩膀，摊开双手，终于拿出了意见：
“应该找个丈夫。”
“上帝保佑，只是别找像您这样的，伊万·费奥多罗维奇，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜终于像炸弹似的爆发了，“在见解和判断方面别找您这样的，伊万·费奥多罗维奇；别找您这样的粗野的莽汉，伊万·费奥多罗维奇……”
伊万·费奥多罗维奇马上就设法逃脱了，而叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜在发过脾气后也就平静下来了。当然，在那天晚上她一定会变得不同寻常地殷勤、温顺、亲切和恭敬地对待伊万·费奥多罗维奇，对待“自己的粗野的莽汉”伊万·费奥多罗维奇，对待善良的、可爱的她所崇拜的伊万·费奥多罗维奇，因为她一生都爱甚至热恋着自己的伊万·费奥多罗维奇，而伊万·费奥多罗维奇自己也清楚地知道这一点，为此也无限地敬重自己的叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜。
但是阿格拉娅却是她主要的和经常的苦恼。
“完完全全像我，在所有的方面简直就是我的活影子，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜暗自说，“任性、可恶的小鬼头工虚无主义者，怪女人，疯姑娘，狠心丫头，狠心丫头，狠心丫头！嗬，天哪，她将是多么不幸啊！”
但是，正如我们已经说过的，升起的太阳一度消融和照亮了一切。几乎有一个月叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜完全摆脱了一切操心而得到了休息。由于阿杰莱达日益迫近的婚礼，上流社会也开始谈及阿格拉娅，与此同时阿格拉娅所到之处举止总是那么优美、那么安稳、那么聪颖、那么不可征服，有点高傲，但这可是与她非常相称的。这整整一个月她对母亲也是那么亲热，那么殷切。真的，这个叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇还得好好看看，好好看看，应该对他了解清楚，再说阿格拉娅好像对他也不比对别人更加赏识。”反正她突然成了这么一个姣美的姑娘，她是多么俊俏，天哪，她是多么俊俏，一天天长得越来越美！偏偏就……”
偏偏就刚才冒出了这个可恶的死公爵，这个槽透了的傻白痴，于是一切又被搅混了，家里的上切又闹了个底朝天！
但是，到底发生了什么事呢？
对于别的人来说一定认为什么也没有发生。但是叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜与别人不同的是，最平常的一些事情纷乱混杂在一起，透过她素有的总不放心的有色眼镜，她总能看出某种东西是最令人生疑、最令人无法解释的恐惧、因而也是最令人苦恼的，以致有时使她吓出病来。她那可笑的、毫无根据的提心吊胆弄得她心如乱麻，现在突然确实看到了某种似乎真的是要紧的、似乎真的是值得担忧、疑惑、怀疑的迹像，叫她又怎么能放心呢？
“怎么有人竟敢、竟敢给我写这封该死的匿名信，说这个贱货跟阿格拉娅有联系呢？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜一路上边拖着公爵跟着自己走，一边想，到了家里把他安顿在全家聚会的园桌旁坐下时还在想。“怎么竟敢这样想？如果我哪怕相信了点滴或者把这封情给阿格拉娅看，我真会羞死的！对我们，对叶潘钦家竟如此嘲弄！这一切，一切都是因为伊万·费奥多雷奇，一间都是因为您，伊万·费奥多雷奇！啊，为什么我们不到叶拉金去，我可是脱过到叶拉金去的！这大概是瓦里卡写的信，我知道，或者，也可能……总之一切的一切都是伊万·费奥多雷奇的错！这是那个贱货拿他开玩笑，为的怪让他记住过去的交往，把他端出来当傻瓜，就像过去把他当傻瓜嘲笑一通，痒着他鼻子走一样，那时他还给她送珍珠……而最后我们还是受到了牵连，您哟，女儿们还是卷了进去，伊万·费奥多雷奇，她们是少女，小姐，上流社会的千金，待嫁的姑娘，她们都曾经在这里，在这里站过，全都听见了，还有，即一帮男孩的事她们也卷进去了，她们都在，也都听见了，您就高兴吧！我不会原谅，不会原谅这个傻瓜公爵的，永远不会原谅的！为什么阿格拉娅这天天歇斯底里大发作？为什么跟姐姐们几乎吵翻了？甚至跟亚历山德拉也吵架了，而过去她总是像吻母亲那样吻她的手，是那么尊敬她，为什么这三天她总给大家出谜语，让人莫名其妙？加夫里拉·伊沃尔京在这里又算什么？为什么昨天和今天她开始夸起加甫里拉·伊沃尔京来，并且还大哭起来？为什么这封匿名信提到了这个该诅咒的 ‘可怜的骑士’，而她甚至没有给两个姐姐看公爵的信？为什么……为了什么，为了什么我像只发狂的猫似的现在跑到找他并且还亲自把他拖到这里来？天哪，我简直疯了，我现在于出什么了呀！跟一个年轻人谈论女儿的秘密，而且这秘密几乎涉及他本人！天哪，还好，他是个白痴……还是家庭的朋友！只是阿格拉娅难道迷上了这个呆子？天哪，我在胡扯什么吗！呸！我们全是些怪人……应该把我们大家放在玻璃柜里陈列给人看，首先把我展览出去，门票收１０个戈比。我不原谅您这一点，伊万·费奥多雷奇，永远不会原谅！为什么阿格拉娅现在不使他难堪了？她许诺要使他难堪的，现在却并没有使他难堪！你瞧，你瞧，她就瞪大了眼睛望着他，一语不发，也不走开，站在那里，而本来是她自己吩咐不要他来的……他则坐在那里，脸色苍白。这个该诅咒的该死的叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇真饶舌，一个人控制了整个谈话！你瞧他滔滔不绝，不让人家插上一句话。只要话锋一转……我马上就全都知道。”
公爵确实坐在圆桌旁，脸色近乎苍白，他好像同时既显得异常惧怕，又片刻处于自己也莫名其妙的充溢心头的欣喜之中。哦，他多么害怕朝那个方向，那个角落看上一眼，因为有两只熟悉的黑眼睛从那里凝视着他，同时，又幸福得发呆，因为他又坐在这里，在这些人中间，又将听到一个熟悉的声音－－而这一切是在她给他写了那封信以后。“天哪，她现在会说什么呀！”他自己也还没有说一句话，只是紧张地听着“滔滔不绝的”叶甫盖尼·帕夫帕维奇说话，他是难得有像今晚现在这样的心满意足和激情昂扬的精神状态的公爵听着他，好久都几乎没听明白一句话。除了伊万·费奥多罗维奇还没有从彼得堡回来，大家都聚在这里。ω公爵也在这里。他们好像打算过一会儿在喝茶前，去听音乐。现在的谈话看来是在梅什金公爵来前就已经开始的，然不知从哪儿冒出来的科利亚很快地溜到了凉台上。“看来，这里仍像原先那样接纳他，”公爵暗自思忖着。
叶潘钦家的别墅是一所豪华的别墅，按瑞士村舍的格式构造的，四周花草林木，拾掇得非常雅致；一座不大而优美的花园环抱着它。像在公爵那儿一样，大家坐在凉台上；只不过这里的凉台比较宽敞，布置得也较讲究。
已经开始的话题似乎不太合大家的心意；可以猜想，谈话是由一场偏执的争论引起的，当然，大家都很想换个内容，但叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇好象更加坚持而不顾其影响；公爵的到来似乎越发激起他的谈兴，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜阴沉着脸，尽管她并不完全明白他所讲的。阿格拉娅坐在边上，几乎是在角落里，她没有走开，听着谈话，执拗地保持着沉默。
“请原谅，”叶甫益尼·帕夫洛维奇激动地表示反对说，“我一点也不反对自由主义。启由主义并不是罪过；这是一个整体的必要组成部分，缺了它，整体就会瓦解或毁灭；自由主义如最正统的保守主义一样有存在的权利；但是我攻击的是俄国的自由主义，我再重复一遍，我之所以攻击它，其实是因为俄国的自由派不是俄罗斯的自由派，而是非俄罗斯的自由派。给我一个俄罗斯的自由派，我马上会当着你们面吻他。”
“只要他愿意吻您，”异常激动的亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜说。她的脸颊甚至也比平常红。
“瞧这模样，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜暗自想道，“要不就是睡和吃，推也椎不动，要不一年中有这么一次振奋起来，说出话来只会叫人莫名其妙，朝她两手一摊。”
公爵有一瞬间发觉，亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜似乎并不大喜欢叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇过分快活他说话，也不大喜欢他那严肃的活题，他仿佛很急躁，同时又仿佛是在开玩笑。
“刚才，就在您来到之前，公爵，我断言，到目前为止我们的自由派只来自两个阶层：过去的地主（被废除了农奴制的）和教会学校的学生。由于这两个阶层最后都成为十足俏帮派、成为完全有别于民族的特殊的事物，而且越来越厉害，代代相传，因此，他们过去和现在所做的一切都根本不是民族的事……”
“什么？这么说，所做的一切都不是俄罗斯的？”ω公爵表示异议。
“不是民族的；虽然是俄国式的，但不是民族的；我们的自由派不是俄罗斯的，保守派也不是俄罗斯的，全都……请相信，民族是丝毫不会承认地主和学生所做的一切的，无论是现在还是以后……”
“这就好！您怎么能肯定这样的荒谬言论，如果这是当真的话？我不容许有关俄国地主的这种奇谈怪论；您自己也是俄国地主，”ω公爵热烈地反对说。
“我说的可不是您所理解的那种意义上的俄国地主。那是一个受尊敬的阶层，单凭我自己也属于这个阶层就可说明了；特别是现在，这个阶层已经不复存在了……”
“难道文学上也没有什么是民族的东西？”亚庆山德拉·伊万诺夫娜打断他问。
“我对文学不在行，但是，俄国文学，据我看，整个儿都不是俄罗斯的，除了罗蒙诺索夫、普希金和果戈理。”
“第一，这已经不算少了；第二，一个来自农民，另外两个是地主，”阿杰莱达笑起来说。
“确实是这样，但您别高兴召太早。因为到目前为止所有的俄国作家中只有这三位名人说出了某种真正是自己的，自己所有的东西，而没有从任何人那里借用的外来的东西，就凭这一点这三位即成为民族的作家了。俄国人又有谁能说出、写出或者做出什么自己的东西？不可分离的、不是外来的而是自己的东西，即使他俄语说的不好、也必然是民族的人才。这是我的信条，我们开始说的不是有关文学的问题，我们谈的是社会主义者，话题是由他扯开去的，好，我就这么认为，我们没有一个俄罗斯的社会主义者；现在没有，过去也没有。因为所有我们的社会主义者也是来自地主或者学生。所有我们那些臭名昭著、大肆宣扬的社会主义者，这里的也罢，在国外的也罢，无非是农奴制时代地主中的自由派。你们笑什么？把他们的著作给我，把他们的学说，他们的回忆录给我，虽然我不是文学批评家，我也能给你们写出一篇最令人信眼的文学批评来，文章里我将如白日一般明显地证明，他们的著作、小册子、回忆录第一页都表明，它首先是由过去的俄国地主写出来的：他们的仇恨、愤怒、俏皮是地主式（甚至是法穆索夫＊式）的，他们的欢欣、他们的泪水是真的，也许泪水是真诚的，但是地主的！地主的或是学生的泪水……你们又笑了，您也在笑，公爵，也不同意？”
确实，大家都笑了，公爵也莞尔一笑。
“我还不能直截了当他说同意或不同意，”公爵说。他突然敛起微笑，像个被抓住的调皮学生那样打了个哆嗦。“但是请相信，我异常高兴聆听您的高论……”
说这活时，他几乎接不上气来，甚至额上渗出了冷汗。这是他坐在这里后所说的开头几句话。他本欲打量一下周围的人，但是没有敢这样做。叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇捕捉到他的这种态势，笑了一下。
“诸位，我告诉你们一个事实，”他继续说，用的还是原来的语气，也就是似乎异常热衷和激动，同时又几乎像是在嘲笑自己说的话，“观察甚至发现这一事实的人，我荣幸地归于自己，甚至只是我自己；至少关于这一事实还没有人说过和写过：这一个事实反映出我所说的俄国自由主义的全部实质。第一；自由主义是什么？如果一般他说，不就是对事物的现行秩序进行攻击（是有理的还是错误的，这是另一个问题）？不是这样吗？好！那么我说的事实是，俄国的自由主义不是攻击事物现行的秩序，而是攻击我们事物的本质，攻击事物本身，而不仅仅是光攻击秩序，不是攻击俄国的制度，而是攻击俄国本身。我说的自由派甚至发展到否走俄国本身，也就是恨自己的母亲，打自己的母亲。每个不幸的倒霉的事实都会激起他们的嘲笑，甚至狂喜。他们仇恨民间习俗，俄国的历史，仇恨一切。如果要力他们辩解，那么也只能说他们不懂得自己在做什么，他们把对俄国的仇恨当作是最有成效的自由主义（噢，你们常会遇见我们的自由派，尽管有的人为他们鼓掌，可是，他们在本质上也许是最荒谬、最愚钝、最危险的保守派，而且他们自己还不知道这一点！）。还在不那么久以前，我们的有些自由派把这种对俄国的憎恨几乎当作是对祖国的真正热爱，并自夸说，他们比别人更好地理解什么是热爱祖国；但是现在他们已经不那么遮遮掩掩，甚至对说‘爱祖国“的话都感到羞耻，连这样的概念都被当作有害的毫无意义的东西而取消和废除了。这个事实是确凿无误的，我坚信这一点……什么时候总得把真相完完全全、简单明了、毫不淹饰地讲出来；但是，与此同时这个事实无论何时何地、自古以来无论在哪一个民族中都是没有过，也没有发生过的，因而这个事实是偶然的，可能昙花一现，我同意这点。憎恨自己祖国的自由派，无论在什么地方都是不可能存在的。那么我们这里的这一切又做何解释呢？还是先前说过的，俄国的自由派暂时还不是俄罗斯的自由派，依我看，没有别的解释。”
＊米格里鲍那多夫《聪明谈》剧中的农奴主。
“我把你说的一切看做是玩笑，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，”ω公爵认真地表示有不同看法。
“我没有见到所有的自由派，所以不便妄加评论，”亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜说，“但是我是带着一腔气忿听完您所说的思想的：您取的是个别情况却把它上升为一般规律，因而，也就是诬蔑。”
“个别情况？啊！话说出口了，”叶浦盖尼·帕夫洛维奇接过话茬说。
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 30楼  发表于: 2014-01-18 0

Part 3 Chapter 2
THE prince suddenly approached Evgenie Pavlovitch.
"Evgenie Pavlovitch," he said, with strange excitement and seizing the latter's hand in his own, "be assured that I esteem you as a generous and honourable man, in spite of everything. Be assured of that."
Evgenie Pavlovitch fell back a step in astonishment. For one moment it was all he could do to restrain himself from bursting out laughing; but, looking closer, he observed that the prince did not seem to be quite himself; at all events, he was in a very curious state.
"I wouldn't mind betting, prince," he cried, "that you did not in the least mean to say that, and very likely you meant to address someone else altogether. What is it? Are you feeling unwell or anything?"
"Very likely, extremely likely, and you must be a very close observer to detect the fact that perhaps I did not intend to come up to YOU at all."
So saying he smiled strangely; but suddenly and excitedly he began again:
"Don't remind me of what I have done or said. Don't! I am very much ashamed of myself, I--"
"Why, what have you done? I don't understand you."
"I see you are ashamed of me, Evgenie Pavlovitch; you are blushing for me; that's a sign of a good heart. Don't be afraid; I shall go away directly."
"What's the matter with him? Do his fits begin like that?" said Lizabetha Prokofievna, in a high state of alarm, addressing Colia.
"No, no, Lizabetha Prokofievna, take no notice of me. I am not going to have a fit. I will go away directly; but I know I am afflicted. I was twenty-four years an invalid, you see--the first twenty-four years of my life--so take all I do and say as the sayings and actions of an invalid. I'm going away directly, I really am--don't be afraid. I am not blushing, for I don't think I need blush about it, need I? But I see that I am out of place in society--society is better without me. It's not vanity, I assure you. I have thought over it all these last three days, and I have made up my mind that I ought to unbosom myself candidly before you at the first opportunity. There are certain things, certain great ideas, which I must not so much as approach, as Prince S. has just reminded me, or I shall make you all laugh. I have no sense of proportion, I know; my words and gestures do not express my ideas--they are a humiliation and abasement of the ideas, and therefore, I have no right--and I am too sensitive. Still, I believe I am beloved in this household, and esteemed far more than I deserve. But I can't help knowing that after twenty-four years of illness there must be some trace left, so that it is impossible for people to refrain from laughing at me sometimes; don't you think so?"
He seemed to pause for a reply, for some verdict, as it were, and looked humbly around him.
All present stood rooted to the earth with amazement at this unexpected and apparently uncalled-for outbreak; but the poor prince's painful and rambling speech gave rise to a strange episode.
"Why do you say all this here?" cried Aglaya, suddenly. "Why do you talk like this to THEM?"
She appeared to be in the last stages of wrath and irritation; her eyes flashed. The prince stood dumbly and blindly before her, and suddenly grew pale.
"There is not one of them all who is worthy of these words of yours," continued Aglaya. "Not one of them is worth your little finger, not one of them has heart or head to compare with yours! You are more honest than all, and better, nobler, kinder, wiser than all. There are some here who are unworthy to bend and pick up the handkerchief you have just dropped. Why do you humiliate yourself like this, and place yourself lower than these people? Why do you debase yourself before them? Why have you no pride?"
"My God! Who would ever have believed this?" cried Mrs. Epanchin, wringing her hands.
"Hurrah for the 'poor knight'!" cried Colia.
"Be quiet! How dare they laugh at me in your house?" said Aglaya, turning sharply on her mother in that hysterical frame of mind that rides recklessly over every obstacle and plunges blindly through proprieties. "Why does everyone, everyone worry and torment me? Why have they all been bullying me these three days about you, prince? I will not marry you--never, and under no circumstances! Know that once and for all; as if anyone could marry an absurd creature like you! Just look in the glass and see what you look like, this very moment! Why, WHY do they torment me and say I am going to marry you? You must know it; you are in the plot with them!"
"No one ever tormented you on the subject," murmured Adelaida, aghast.
"No one ever thought of such a thing! There has never been a word said about it!" cried Alexandra.
"Who has been annoying her? Who has been tormenting the child? Who could have said such a thing to her? Is she raving?" cried Lizabetha Prokofievna, trembling with rage, to the company in general.
"Every one of them has been saying it--every one of them--all these three days! And I will never, never marry him!"
So saying, Aglaya burst into bitter tears, and, hiding her face in her handkerchief, sank back into a chair.
"But he has never even--"
"I have never asked you to marry me, Aglaya Ivanovna!" said the prince, of a sudden.
"WHAT?" cried Mrs. Epanchin, raising her hands in horror. "WHAT'S that?"
She could not believe her ears.
"I meant to say--I only meant to say," said the prince, faltering, "I merely meant to explain to Aglaya Ivanovna--to have the honour to explain, as it were--that I had no intention--never had--to ask the honour of her hand. I assure you I am not guilty, Aglaya Ivanovna, I am not, indeed. I never did wish to--I never thought of it at all--and never shall--you'll see it yourself-- you may be quite assured of it. Some wicked person has been maligning me to you; but it's all right. Don't worry about it."
So saying, the prince approached Aglaya.
She took the handkerchief from her face, glanced keenly at him, took in what he had said, and burst out laughing--such a merry, unrestrained laugh, so hearty and gay, that. Adelaida could not contain herself. She, too, glanced at the prince's panic-stricken countenance, then rushed at her sister, threw her arms round her neck, and burst into as merry a fit of laughter as Aglaya's own. They laughed together like a couple of school-girls. Hearing and seeing this, the prince smiled happily, and in accents of relief and joy, he exclaimed "Well, thank God--thank God!"
Alexandra now joined in, and it looked as though the three sisters were going to laugh on for ever.
"They are insane," muttered Lizabetha Prokofievna. "Either they frighten one out of one's wits, or else--"
But Prince S. was laughing now, too, so was Evgenie Pavlovitch, so was Colia, and so was the prince himself, who caught the infection as he looked round radiantly upon the others.
"Come along, let's go out for a walk!" cried Adelaida. "We'll all go together, and the prince must absolutely go with us. You needn't go away, you dear good fellow! ISN'T he a dear, Aglaya? Isn't he, mother? I must really give him a kiss for--for his explanation to Aglaya just now. Mother, dear, I may kiss him, mayn't I? Aglaya, may I kiss YOUR prince?" cried the young rogue, and sure enough she skipped up to the prince and kissed his forehead.
He seized her hands, and pressed them so hard that Adelaida nearly cried out; he then gazed with delight into her eyes, and raising her right hand to his lips with enthusiasm, kissed it three times.
"Come along," said Aglaya. "Prince, you must walk with me. May he, mother? This young cavalier, who won't have me? You said you would NEVER have me, didn't you, prince? No-no, not like that; THAT'S not the way to give your arm. Don't you know how to give your arm to a lady yet? There--so. Now, come along, you and I will lead the way. Would you like to lead the way with me alone, tete-a-tete?"
She went on talking and chatting without a pause, with occasional little bursts of laughter between.
"Thank God--thank God!" said Lizabetha Prokofievna to herself, without quite knowing why she felt so relieved.
"What extraordinary people they are!" thought Prince S., for perhaps the hundredth time since he had entered into intimate relations with the family; but--he liked these "extraordinary people," all the same. As for Prince Lef Nicolaievitch himself, Prince S. did not seem quite to like him, somehow. He was decidedly preoccupied and a little disturbed as they all started off.
Evgenie Pavlovitch seemed to be in a lively humour. He made Adelaida and Alexandra laugh all the way to the Vauxhall; but they both laughed so very really and promptly that the worthy Evgenie began at last to suspect that they were not listening to him at all.
At this idea, he burst out laughing all at once, in quite unaffected mirth, and without giving any explanation.
The sisters, who also appeared to be in high spirits, never tired of glancing at Aglaya and the prince, who were walking in front. It was evident that their younger sister was a thorough puzzle to them both.
Prince S. tried hard to get up a conversation with Mrs. Epanchin upon outside subjects, probably with the good intention of distracting and amusing her; but he bored her dreadfully. She was absent-minded to a degree, and answered at cross purposes, and sometimes not at all.
But the puzzle and mystery of Aglaya was not yet over for the evening. The last exhibition fell to the lot of the prince alone. When they had proceeded some hundred paces or so from the house, Aglaya said to her obstinately silent cavalier in a quick half- whisper:
"Look to the right!"
The prince glanced in the direction indicated.
"Look closer. Do you see that bench, in the park there, just by those three big trees--that green bench?"
The prince replied that he saw it.
"Do you like the position of it? Sometimes of a morning early, at seven o'clock, when all the rest are still asleep, I come out and sit there alone."
The prince muttered that the spot was a lovely one.
"Now, go away, I don't wish to have your arm any longer; or perhaps, better, continue to give me your arm, and walk along beside me, but don't speak a word to me. I wish to think by myself."
The warning was certainly unnecessary; for the prince would not have said a word all the rest of the time whether forbidden to speak or not. His heart beat loud and painfully when Aglaya spoke of the bench; could she--but no! he banished the thought, after an instant's deliberation.
At Pavlofsk, on weekdays, the public is more select than it is on Sundays and Saturdays, when the townsfolk come down to walk about and enjoy the park.
The ladies dress elegantly, on these days, and it is the fashion to gather round the band, which is probably the best of our pleasure-garden bands, and plays the newest pieces. The behaviour of the public is most correct and proper, and there is an appearance of friendly intimacy among the usual frequenters. Many come for nothing but to look at their acquaintances, but there are others who come for the sake of the music. It is very seldom that anything happens to break the harmony of the proceedings, though, of course, accidents will happen everywhere.
On this particular evening the weather was lovely, and there were a large number of people present. All the places anywhere near the orchestra were occupied.
Our friends took chairs near the side exit. The crowd and the music cheered Mrs. Epanchin a little, and amused the girls; they bowed and shook hands with some of their friends and nodded at a distance to others; they examined the ladies' dresses, noticed comicalities and eccentricities among the people, and laughed and talked among themselves. Evgenie Pavlovitch, too, found plenty of friends to bow to. Several people noticed Aglaya and the prince, who were still together.
Before very long two or three young men had come up, and one or two remained to talk; all of these young men appeared to be on intimate terms with Evgenie Pavlovitch. Among them was a young officer, a remarkably handsome fellow--very good-natured and a great chatterbox. He tried to get up a conversation with Aglaya, and did his best to secure her attention. Aglaya behaved very graciously to him, and chatted and laughed merrily. Evgenie Pavlovitch begged the prince's leave to introduce their friend to him. The prince hardly realized what was wanted of him, but the introduction came off; the two men bowed and shook hands.
Evgenie Pavlovitch's friend asked the prince some question, but the latter did not reply, or if he did, he muttered something so strangely indistinct that there was nothing to be made of it. The officer stared intently at him, then glanced at Evgenie, divined why the latter had introduced him, and gave his undivided attention to Aglaya again. Only Evgenie Pavlovitch observed that Aglaya flushed up for a moment at this.
The prince did not notice that others were talking and making themselves agreeable to Aglaya; in fact, at moments, he almost forgot that he was sitting by her himself. At other moments he felt a longing to go away somewhere and be alone with his thoughts, and to feel that no one knew where he was.
Or if that were impossible he would like to be alone at home, on the terrace-without either Lebedeff or his children, or anyone else about him, and to lie there and think--a day and night and another day again! He thought of the mountains-and especially of a certain spot which he used to frequent, whence he would look down upon the distant valleys and fields, and see the waterfall, far off, like a little silver thread, and the old ruined castle in the distance. Oh! how he longed to be there now--alone with his thoughts--to think of one thing all his life--one thing! A thousand years would not be too much time! And let everyone here forget him--forget him utterly! How much better it would have been if they had never known him--if all this could but prove to be a dream. Perhaps it was a dream!
Now and then he looked at Aglaya for five minutes at a time, without taking his eyes off her face; but his expression was very strange; he would gaze at her as though she were an object a couple of miles distant, or as though he were looking at her portrait and not at herself at all.
"Why do you look at me like that, prince?" she asked suddenly, breaking off her merry conversation and laughter with those about her. "I'm afraid of you! You look as though you were just going to put out your hand and touch my face to see if it's real! Doesn't he, Evgenie Pavlovitch--doesn't he look like that?"
The prince seemed surprised that he should have been addressed at all; he reflected a moment, but did not seem to take in what had been said to him; at all events, he did not answer. But observing that she and the others had begun to laugh, he too opened his mouth and laughed with them.
The laughter became general, and the young officer, who seemed a particularly lively sort of person, simply shook with mirth.
Aglaya suddenly whispered angrily to herself the word--
"Idiot!"
"My goodness--surely she is not in love with such a--surely she isn't mad!" groaned Mrs. Epanchin, under her breath.
"It's all a joke, mamma; it's just a joke like the 'poor knight' --nothing more whatever, I assure you!" Alexandra whispered in her ear. "She is chaffing him--making a fool of him, after her own private fashion, that's all! But she carries it just a little too far--she is a regular little actress. How she frightened us just now--didn't she?--and all for a lark!"
"Well, it's lucky she has happened upon an idiot, then, that's all I can say!" whispered Lizabetha Prokofievna, who was somewhat comforted, however, by her daughter's remark.
The prince had heard himself referred to as "idiot," and had shuddered at the moment; but his shudder, it so happened, was not caused by the word applied to him. The fact was that in the crowd, not far from where lie was sitting, a pale familiar face, with curly black hair, and a well-known smile and expression, had flashed across his vision for a moment, and disappeared again. Very likely he had imagined it! There only remained to him the impression of a strange smile, two eyes, and a bright green tie. Whether the man had disappeared among the crowd, or whether he had turned towards the Vauxhall, the prince could not say.
But a moment or two afterwards he began to glance keenly about him. That first vision might only too likely be the forerunner of a second; it was almost certain to be so. Surely he had not forgotten the possibility of such a meeting when he came to the Vauxhall? True enough, he had not remarked where he was coming to when he set out with Aglaya; he had not been in a condition to remark anything at all.
Had he been more careful to observe his companion, he would have seen that for the last quarter of an hour Aglaya had also been glancing around in apparent anxiety, as though she expected to see someone, or something particular, among the crowd of people. Now, at the moment when his own anxiety became so marked, her excitement also increased visibly, and when he looked about him, she did the same.
The reason for their anxiety soon became apparent. From that very side entrance to the Vauxhall, near which the prince and all the Epanchin party were seated, there suddenly appeared quite a large knot of persons, at least a dozen.
Heading this little band walked three ladies, two of whom were remarkably lovely; and there was nothing surprising in the fact that they should have had a large troop of admirers following in their wake.
But there was something in the appearance of both the ladies and their admirers which was peculiar, quite different for that of the rest of the public assembled around the orchestra.
Nearly everyone observed the little band advancing, and all pretended not to see or notice them, except a few young fellows who exchanged glances and smiled, saying something to one another in whispers.
It was impossible to avoid noticing them, however, in reality, for they made their presence only too conspicuous by laughing and talking loudly. It was to be supposed that some of them were more than half drunk, although they were well enough dressed, some even particularly well. There were one or two, however, who were very strange-looking creatures, with flushed faces and extraordinary clothes; some were military men; not all were quite young; one or two were middle-aged gentlemen of decidedly disagreeable appearance, men who are avoided in society like the plague, decked out in large gold studs and rings, and magnificently "got up," generally.
Among our suburban resorts there are some which enjoy a specially high reputation for respectability and fashion; but the most careful individual is not absolutely exempt from the danger of a tile falling suddenly upon his head from his neighbour's roof.
Such a tile was about to descend upon the elegant and decorous public now assembled to hear the music.
In order to pass from the Vauxhall to the band-stand, the visitor has to descend two or three steps. Just at these steps the group paused, as though it feared to proceed further; but very quickly one of the three ladies, who formed its apex, stepped forward into the charmed circle, followed by two members of her suite.
One of these was a middle-aged man of very respectable appearance, but with the stamp of parvenu upon him, a man whom nobody knew, and who evidently knew nobody. The other follower was younger and far less respectable-looking.
No one else followed the eccentric lady; but as she descended the steps she did not even look behind her, as though it were absolutely the same to her whether anyone were following or not. She laughed and talked loudly, however, just as before. She was dressed with great taste, but with rather more magnificence than was needed for the occasion, perhaps.
She walked past the orchestra, to where an open carriage was waiting, near the road.
The prince had not seen HER for more than three months. All these days since his arrival from Petersburg he had intended to pay her a visit, but some mysterious presentiment had restrained him. He could not picture to himself what impression this meeting with her would make upon him, though he had often tried to imagine it, with fear and trembling. One fact was quite certain, and that was that the meeting would be painful.
Several times during the last six months he had recalled the effect which the first sight of this face had had upon him, when he only saw its portrait. He recollected well that even the portrait face had left but too painful an impression.
That month in the provinces, when he had seen this woman nearly every day, had affected him so deeply that he could not now look back upon it calmly. In the very look of this woman there was something which tortured him. In conversation with Rogojin he had attributed this sensation to pity--immeasurable pity, and this was the truth. The sight of the portrait face alone had filled his heart full of the agony of real sympathy; and this feeling of sympathy, nay, of actual SUFFERING, for her, had never left his heart since that hour, and was still in full force. Oh yes, and more powerful than ever!
But the prince was not satisfied with what he had said to Rogojin. Only at this moment, when she suddenly made her appearance before him, did he realize to the full the exact emotion which she called up in him, and which he had not described correctly to Rogojin.
And, indeed, there were no words in which he could have expressed his horror, yes, HORROR, for he was now fully convinced from his own private knowledge of her, that the woman was mad.
If, loving a woman above everything in the world, or at least having a foretaste of the possibility of such love for her, one were suddenly to behold her on a chain, behind bars and under the lash of a keeper, one would feel something like what the poor prince now felt.
"What's the matter?" asked Aglaya, in a whisper, giving his sleeve a little tug.
He turned his head towards her and glanced at her black and (for some reason) flashing eyes, tried to smile, and then, apparently forgetting her in an instant, turned to the right once more, and continued to watch the startling apparition before him.
Nastasia Philipovna was at this moment passing the young ladies' chairs.
Evgenie Pavlovitch continued some apparently extremely funny and interesting anecdote to Alexandra, speaking quickly and with much animation. The prince remembered that at this moment Aglaya remarked in a half-whisper:
"WHAT a--"
She did not finish her indefinite sentence; she restrained herself in a moment; but it was enough.
Nastasia Philipovna, who up to now had been walking along as though she had not noticed the Epanchin party, suddenly turned her head in their direction, as though she had just observed Evgenie Pavlovitch sitting there for the first time.
"Why, I declare, here he is!" she cried, stopping suddenly. "The man one can't find with all one's messengers sent about the place, sitting just under one's nose, exactly where one never thought of looking! I thought you were sure to be at your uncle's by this time."
Evgenie Pavlovitch flushed up and looked angrily at Nastasia Philipovna, then turned his back on her.
"What I don't you know about it yet? He doesn't know--imagine that! Why, he's shot himself. Your uncle shot himself this very morning. I was told at two this afternoon. Half the town must know it by now. They say there are three hundred and fifty thousand roubles, government money, missing; some say five hundred thousand. And I was under the impression that he would leave you a fortune! He's whistled it all away. A most depraved old gentleman, really! Well, ta, ta!--bonne chance! Surely you intend to be off there, don't you? Ha, ha! You've retired from the army in good time, I see! Plain clothes! Well done, sly rogue! Nonsense! I see--you knew it all before--I dare say you knew all about it yesterday-"
Although the impudence of this attack, this public proclamation of intimacy, as it were, was doubtless premeditated, and had its special object, yet Evgenie Pavlovitch at first seemed to intend to make no show of observing either his tormentor or her words. But Nastasia's communication struck him with the force of a thunderclap. On hearing of his uncle's death he suddenly grew as white as a sheet, and turned towards his informant.
At this moment, Lizabetha Prokofievna rose swiftly from her seat, beckoned her companions, and left the place almost at a run.
Only the prince stopped behind for a moment, as though in indecision; and Evgenie Pavlovitch lingered too, for he had not collected his scattered wits. But the Epanchins had not had time to get more than twenty paces away when a scandalous episode occurred. The young officer, Evgenie Pavlovitch's friend who had been conversing with Aglaya, said aloud in a great state of indignation:
"She ought to be whipped--that's the only way to deal with creatures like that--she ought to be whipped!"
This gentleman was a confidant of Evgenie's, and had doubtless heard of the carriage episode.
Nastasia turned to him. Her eyes flashed; she rushed up to a young man standing near, whom she did not know in the least, but who happened to have in his hand a thin cane. Seizing this from him, she brought it with all her force across the face of her insulter.
All this occurred, of course, in one instant of time.
The young officer, forgetting himself, sprang towards her. Nastasia's followers were not by her at the moment (the elderly gentleman having disappeared altogether, and the younger man simply standing aside and roaring with laughter).
In another moment, of course, the police would have been on the spot, and it would have gone hard with Nastasia Philipovna had not unexpected aid appeared.
Muishkin, who was but a couple of steps away, had time to spring forward and seize the officer's arms from behind.
The officer, tearing himself from the prince's grasp, pushed him so violently backwards that he staggered a few steps and then subsided into a chair.
But there were other defenders for Nastasia on the spot by this time. The gentleman known as the "boxer" now confronted the enraged officer.
"Keller is my name, sir; ex-lieutenant," he said, very loud. "If you will accept me as champion of the fair sex, I am at your disposal. English boxing has no secrets from me. I sympathize with you for the insult you have received, but I can't permit you to raise your hand against a woman in public. If you prefer to meet me--as would be more fitting to your rank--in some other manner, of course you understand me, captain."
But the young officer had recovered himself, and was no longer listening. At this moment Rogojin appeared, elbowing through the crowd; he took Nastasia's hand, drew it through his arm, and quickly led her away. He appeared to be terribly excited; he was trembling all over, and was as pale as a corpse. As he carried Nastasia off, he turned and grinned horribly in the officer's face, and with low malice observed:
"Tfu! look what the fellow got! Look at the blood on his cheek! Ha, ha!"
Recollecting himself, however, and seeing at a glance the sort of people he had to deal with, the officer turned his back on both his opponents, and courteously, but concealing his face with his handkerchief, approached the prince, who was now rising from the chair into which he had fallen.
"Prince Muishkin, I believe? The gentleman to whom I had the honour of being introduced?"
"She is mad, insane--I assure you, she is mad," replied the prince in trembling tones, holding out both his hands mechanically towards the officer.
"I cannot boast of any such knowledge, of course, but I wished to know your name."
He bowed and retired without waiting for an answer.
Five seconds after the disappearance of the last actor in this scene, the police arrived. The whole episode had not lasted more than a couple of minutes. Some of the spectators had risen from their places, and departed altogether; some merely exchanged their seats for others a little further off; some were delighted with the occurrence, and talked and laughed over it for a long time.
In a word, the incident closed as such incidents do, and the band began to play again. The prince walked away after the Epanchin party. Had he thought of looking round to the left after he had been pushed so unceremoniously into the chair, he would have observed Aglaya standing some twenty yards away. She had stayed to watch the scandalous scene in spite of her mother's and sisters' anxious cries to her to come away.
Prince S. ran up to her and persuaded her, at last, to come home with them.
Lizabetha Prokofievna saw that she returned in such a state of agitation that it was doubtful whether she had even heard their calls. But only a couple of minutes later, when they had reached the park, Aglaya suddenly remarked, in her usual calm, indifferent voice:
"I wanted to see how the farce would end."

公爵突然走到叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇跟前。
“叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇，”他抓住他的手，用一种奇怪的热情说，“请相信，不论怎样，我认为您是最最高尚的人，最好的人；请相信这一点……”
叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇惊讶得甚至后退了一步。有一瞬间他克制住忍不住要纵声大笑的愿望，但是当他走近仔细观察之后，他发现公爵似乎失去常态，至少是有点异常。
“我敢打赌，”他喊了起来，“公爵，您想讲的根本不是这样的话，也许，也根本不是想对我说……但是您怎么啦？您是不是不舒服？”
“也许是，很可能是，您很细致地注意到了，也许，我想找的不是您！”
说完这话，公爵有点奇怪地、甚至可笑地笑了一下，但是似乎很激动，突然大声嚷道：
“请别向我提起三天前我的行为！这三天我感到非常羞愧……我知道是我不对……”
“可是……可是您究竟做了什么令您这么痛苦的事呢？”
“我看得出，大概您比其他的人更为我感到羞愧，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇；您现在脸红了，这是心灵美好的标志，我马上就走，请相信。”
“他这是怎么啦？他这样是不是毛病开始发作了？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜惊恐地问科利亚。
“你别在意，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜，我不是发病，我马上就走。我知道，我……天生就亏，活了２４岁，生了２４年的病。现在就听我作为病人说几句话。我马上就走，马上，请相信。我不脸红，因为为此而脸红是会令人奇怪的，不对吗？但是在交际场合我是个多余的人……我这样说并非出于自尊……这三天里我反复思考并决定，一有机会就应该真心诚意和光明正大地告诉你们。有这样一些思想，有一些高尚的思想，我是不应该谈起的，因为我走会使大家觉得可笑的；ω公爵刚才提醒我的正是这一点……我不会做出体面的姿态，也没有分寸感；我说出来的是与想法不相符合的另一番话，而这是会损害这些想法的。因此我没有权利……何况我又生性多疑，我……我确信，在这个家里是不会亏侍我的，并且爱我比我所值得的爱更甚，但是我知道（我可是知道得很肯定），２０年的疾病一定会留下什么后果的，因此有时候……不能不使人笑话我……不是这样吗？”
他环顾周围，仿佛是等待回答和决定。大家都站在那里，被这种出乎意料的、病态的、不论怎样都似乎是无缘无故的举动弄得莫名其妙，尴尬万分。但是这一举动却为一段奇怪的插曲提供了缘由。
“您在这里说这些话干什么？”突然阿格拉娅嚷了起来，“为了什么您对他们说这些？对他们！对他们！”
似乎她气忿到极点：她的眼睛都在冒火。公爵站在她面前哑然无语，不发一声，脸色一下子变得刷白。
“这里没有任何人配听这样的话！”阿格拉娅发作了，“这里所有的人统统都不及您的一个小指头。无论是才智还是心灵都比不上！您比所有的人都更正直、更高尚、更优秀、更善良、更聪明！这里有的人甚至连弯下腰去捡您刚才掉在地上的手帕都不配……为了什么您要贬低自己，把自己置于所有人之下？为什么您要损害作践自己的一切，为什么您身上没有骨气？”
“天哪，这能想到吗？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜双手一拍惊叹道。
“可怜的骑士！乌拉！”科利亚欣喜若狂地喊着。
“住嘴！……有人竟敢在您的家里欺侮我！”突然阿格拉娅冲看叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜说。她已经歇斯底里大发作，无视任何界限，逾越了一切障碍。“为什么大家、所有的人都无一例外地折磨我？公爵，整整三天由于您的缘故他们缠住我，这是为什么？我无论如何也不嫁给您！您要知道，无论如何，永远不嫁！您得知道这一点！难道可以嫁给您这样可笑的人？您现在照镜子看看自己，您现在配得上哪个！……为什么，为什么他们要逗我，说我要嫁给您？您应该知道这一点！您也是跟他们串通一气的！”
“任何人，住何时候都没有逗过！”阿杰菜达惊恐地嘟哝着。
“谁也没有这样想过，谁也没有说过这样的话！”亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜大声嚷道。
“谁逗了她？什么时候逗她的？谁会对她说这种事？她是在说胡话还是怎么的？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜气得打颤，问大家。
“所有的人都说过，每一个人都说了，整整三天！我永远、永远也不会嫁给他！”
喊过这些话后，阿格拉娅泣然泪下，痛苦地用手帕掩住脸，跌坐到椅子上。
“可他还没有向你求……”
“我没有向您求过婚，阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜，”公爵突然脱口而出。
“什－么？”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜又惊又气又怕地突然拖长了声音问，“怎么－回－事？”
她不敢相信自己的耳朵。
“我只说……我想说，”公爵颤粟着说，“我只是想向阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜说明……我希望有幸能解释，我根本没有这种意图……没有想会有幸向她求婚……不管什么时候……。这事我丝毫没有过错，真的，我没有什么过错，阿格拉侄·伊万诺夫娜！我从来也没有想过，从来也没有动过这个念头，永远也不会有这样的事，您自己会看到的，请相信！这一定是哪个怀有恶意的人在悠面前诽谤我！请放心！”他一边说话，一边走近了阿格拉娅。她拿开了掩住脸面的手绢，很快地瞥了他一眼以及他那吓坏了的模样，弄清了他讲话的含意，突然径直对着他放声哈哈大笑起来，笑得这么快活开心，这么放纵不羁，这么滑稽可笑，这么嘲讽讥诮，以至阿杰莱达第一个忍不住，尤其在看了一眼公爵后，她便扑向妹妹，拥抱着她，和她一样像小学生似地快活地放声大笑起来。望着她们俩，公爵也忽然漾起微笑，并且带着高兴和幸福的表情反复喃喃着：
“哦，谢天谢地，谢天谢地。”
亚历山德拉这时也忍不住由衷地大笑起来。三姐妹的这种笑声好像会没个完似的。
“好了，一群疯丫头！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜嘟哝着，“一会把人吓得要死，一会又……”
但是现在ω公爵也已在笑了，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇也笑了，科利亚则笑个没停，而公爵望着大家也咯咯笑着。
“我们去散步，我们去散步！”阿杰莱达喊道，“大家一起去，公爵一定要跟我们去，您用不着离开，您是个可爱的人！他是个可爱的人，阿格拉娅！您说是不是，妈妈？而且为了……为了刚才他向阿格拉娅表明态度，我一定要、一定得吻他和拥抱他一下。妈妈，亲爱的，允许我吻他一下吗？阿格拉娅！允许我吻一下你的公爵吗？”调皮的阿杰莱达真的蹦到公爵跟前，吻了一下他的额头。而公爵则抓住她的手，紧紧地握着，阿杰莱达差点没叫起来，他无比兴奋地望着她，突然把她的手抬向唇边，吻了三次。
“我们走吧！”阿格拉娅招呼着，“公爵，您搀着我。可以吗，妈妈？让这个拒绝了我的未婚男子搀着行吗？公爵，您不是永远拒绝了我吗？唉，不是这样，不是这样把手递给女士的，您难道不知道，该怎样挽着女士？是这样的，我们走吧，我们走在大家前面；您愿意走在大家前面吗，ｔｅｔｅ－ａ－ｔｅｔｅ？＊”
她不停地说着，仍然不时地发出阵阵笑声。
“谢天谢地！谢天谢地：”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜反复念叨着，她自己也不知道为了什么而感到高兴。
“真是些怪得异乎寻常的人！”ω公爵恩忖着，从与他们相识起来，也许已经是第一百次这样想了，但是……他喜欢这些古怪的人。至于说到梅什金公爵，也许他不那么喜欢他；当大家走去散步时，ω公爵有点阴郁，似乎心事重重。
叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇似乎处于最开心的情绪之中，在到车站的一路上不断逗笑着亚历山德拉和阿杰莱达，而她们则带着一种已经过分的特别的乐意对他的玩笑话报之以嬉笑，甚至到了这种地步，他会在一瞬间怀疑起，也许她们根本不在听他讲。这个念头使他不解释原因便猛然哈哈大笑起来，而且完全是非常真诚地笑（他就是这样的性格！）。其实两姐妹的情绪就像过节一般高兴，她们不断地望着走在前面的公爵和阿格拉娅；很显然，小妹妹给她们出了一个难解的谜。ω公爵一直努力着跟叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜聊一些不相干的事，也许是为了让她散散心，结果却使她感到厌烦得不得了。她似乎完全思绪紊乱，答非所问，有时根本就不搭理。但是阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜今天晚上出的谜还没有完。最后一个谜则是归梅什金公爵一人份上的。在走到离别墅一百步远的地方时，阿格拉娅用很快的低语对自己这位顽固地保持沉默的男伴说：
“您瞧瞧右边！”
公爵扫了一眼。
“请注意看看。您看见公园里那张条倚没有？就在长着三棵大树的地方……绿颜色的条椅。”
＊法语：单独相处。
公爵回答说看见了。
“您喜欢这个地方吗？有时候一大早，７点钟左右，大家还在睡觉的时候，我一个人到这儿来就坐在那里。”
公爵低声说这地方很优美。
“现在您离开我走吧，我不想再跟您挽着手走了，或者最好是挽着手走，但别跟我说一句话。我想独自想想……”
这番告诫无论如何是多余的，即使没有吩咐，公爵一路上也肯定不会说出一个字来的。当他听了关于条椅的那些话后，他的心怦怦跳得历害。过了一会儿他才恍悟过来，并且羞愧地驱除自己的荒唐念头。
众所周知、至少大家都这么认为，平日聚集到帕夫洛夫斯克车站来的人，比起节日和星期天从城里涌来的“形形色色的人们”来要“高上一等”，人们的打扮虽不像过节那样，可是却很高雅。来这儿听音乐被视为一种传统。而这儿的乐队也许确实是我国花园乐队中最好的乐队，演奏的是新曲子。尽管总的来说一种充满家庭气氛、甚至显得十分亲密的景象，但人们举止得体，彬彬有礼。且人们全是来别墅避暑的人，他们到这里来互相看望。许多人是由衷地乐意这样做，而且只是为了这个目的到这儿来；但也有些人来只是为了听音乐，胡闹的事极难得发生，不过即使是平日也还是会有这类事的，没有这种事倒也是不可能的。
这个晚上夜色非常美妙，听众也相当多。演奏乐队附近的座位全都占满了。我们这一伙人坐在稍微靠边一点的椅子上，离车站左边的出口不远。人群和音乐多少使叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜振奋起来，也使小姐们开心；她们跟熟人中的什么人交换眼色或者从远处朝人点一下头；她们打量人们的服饰，注意一些新奇的花样，对它们评头品足，不无讥嘲地莞尔一笑。叶甫盖尼·帕大洛维奇也经常在点头致意。阿格拉娅和公爵仍然走在一起，已经有人对他们加以注意，熟识的年轻人中有人很快地走到小姐们和她们的妈妈跟前；有两三个人留下来一起交谈；所有这些人都是叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇的朋友，这些人中间有一位很漂亮庸洒的年轻军官，为人活泼开朗，很善言谈；他急于跟阿格拉娅攀谈，并且竭力设法把她的注意力吸引到自己身上。阿格拉娅对他很宽厚，同时又非常爱笑，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇请公爵允许介始他跟这位好朋友认识；公爵刚刚明白要他做什么，介绍已经进行了，两人互相躬身致礼，彼此递手握了握。叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇提了一个问题，但是公爵好像没有回答他或者奇怪地含糊不清地自言自语了什么，以至使得军官非常专注地看了他一回，后来又瞥了一眼叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，马上便明白了，为了什么叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇想出来要介绍他们认识，他微微一笑，便又转向了阿格拉娅问。只有叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇注意到，此时阿格拉娅突然脸红了。
公爵甚至没有注意到别人在跟阿格拉娅交谈并向她献殷勤，有片刻甚至几乎忘了，他自己正坐在她的旁边。有时他想离开到哪儿去，完全从这里消失，甚至他更喜欢有一个幽暗空寂的地方，只让他一个人呆着可以好好想想问题，不让任何人知道他在哪里。或者，至少是在自己家里，在阳台上，但是得不让任何人在那里，无论是列别杰夫还是他的孩子；他要一头扑到自己的沙发上，把脸埋在枕头里，就这样躺上一天，一夜，再一天。有几次瞬息间他的想象中浮现出山峰峦谷，一个熟悉的点恰恰在那山峦间，这是他经常喜欢回忆的地方，当年他生活在那里的时候，他喜欢去那里，从那里俯视远处的村庄，鸟瞰微微闪现的白晃晃的一线瀑布，眺望那白色的云朵，废弃的古老城堡。啊，他多么想现在就处身其间，思索一件事啊！啊，一生就只想这件事！够想上一千年的！让这里完全忘了他吧。哦，如果大家根本不知道他在哪里，而这一切幻觉仅仅只是虚梦一场，这倒更好，甚至需要这样。再说是梦还是现实还不是一样！有时候他突然开始仔细打量起阿格拉娅来，每次都有５分钟目光不高她的脸，而他的目光是过于奇怪了：他望着她好像望着一件离他两俄里远的东西一样，或者像望着她的肖像，而不是她本人。
“干嘛您这么望着我，公爵？”她中断与周围人的愉快的谈笑，突然说、“我怕您；我老是觉碍，您想伸出手，用手指头来触摸我的脸。是这样吧，叶甫盖尼·帕夫槽维奇，他是这样看人的吧？”
公爵听完，似手对有人跟他说话感到惊讶，等他领悟到是这么回事，也许并不完全明白人家对他说了些什么，因此没有回答，但是、当他看到阿格拉娅和大家都在笑，便突然张开嘴巴，自己也跟着笑了起来。周围的笑声更厉害了；那位年轻军官本来就是个爱笑的人，这时憋不住而干脆扑哧一声笑出声来，阿格拉娅忽然忿忿地暗自嘀咕：
“白痴！”
“天哪，难道她会说这样的话……难道她真的发疯了！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜咬牙切齿地自语道。
“这是开玩笑。这跟那时朗诵‘可怜的骑士’一样是玩笑，”亚历山德拉在母亲身边低话说，“不会是别的：她呀，又用她那一套来拿他寻开心了，只不过这种玩笑开得过命了：应该加以制止，妈妈，刚才她像渲泄一样简直不象样子，放纵任性地把我们吓了一大跳……”
“幸好她碰上的是这么一个白痴，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲那矢娜跟她低语着。女儿的话毕竟使她轻松了些。
然而公爵听到了有人称他是白痴，他哆嗦了一下，但并非是因为被称为白痴、他马上就忘了“白痴”这个词。但是在人群中，就在离他坐的地方不远处，从旁边某个地方——他怎么也指不出来究竟是在什么方位，在什么地点——有一张脸一门而过，一张苍白的脸，一头卷曲的黑发，一种熟悉的、非常熟悉的微笑和目光一闪而过，随即就消逝得无影无踪。很可能这仅仅是他的想像；整个幻像留在他印象中的是冷笑，眼睛以及这位一闪即逝的先生脖子上所戴的时髦的浅绿色领带。这位先生是消失在人群中了、还是溜到车站去了，公爵也无法确定。
但是过了１分钟他突然迅速而又不安地开始环视周周；这第一个幻像可能是第二个幻像的预兆的先驱。这应该是可以肯定的。难道他忘了，他们到车站来是有可能相遇的？确实，当他向车站走来时，好像根本不知道他是在往这里走，他当时就是这么一种状态。如果他善于或者能够比较仔细地观察的话，那么１刻钟前他就能发现，阿格拉娅有时似乎也在不安的眨眼间环顾四周，也仿佛是在自己周围寻找什么。现在，在他的不安越来越强烈，表现得越益明显的时候，阿格拉娅的激动和不安也在增长，只要他回头张望，几乎马上她也回过头去。忐忑不安的惶惑很快就有了解答。
离公爵和叶潘钦家一伙人所坐的地方不远的车站最边侧的出口处，突然出现了一群人，不下十人。这一群人前面走着三个妇女；其中两人美貌惊人，因此她们后面跟着这么多崇拜者也就丝毫不足为怪了。但是，无论是崇拜者还是这几位妇人，他们都有些特别，完全不像来听音乐的其余的听众。几乎所有的人立即所发现了他们。但大部分入竭力佯装出根本没有看见他们的样子，仅有少数年轻人朝他们莞尔一笑，彼此间窃窃私议。根本不可能不看见这一群人，他们公然表现自己，大声说笑。可以料到，他们中许多人是带着醉意的，虽然从外表来看有些人穿着颇为时髦和雅致；但这里面也有些人样子相当古怪，穿的是奇装异服，一张张脸火红得奇怪；这些人中还有几个是军人；也有已非年轻的人；还有的人穿得宽松舒适，衣服做工精细，饰有袖扣，戴着嵌宝戒，套着华美的乌黑油亮的假发，蓄着连鬓胡子，脸上虽有一丝轻蔑的神情，但仍显出一副特别高贵的气派，不过社会上对这些人犹如害怕瘟神一般唯恐避之不及。在我们郊外的聚会者中间当然也有举止十分庄重，名声特别好的人士；但是最小心谨慎的人也不可能时时刻刻防范从邻屋扔下来的砖头。这块砖头现在就将掉到聚集来听首乐的体面的听众身上。
要从车站到乐队所在的平台必须走下三级台阶。那一群人就在这些台阶上停了下来；犹豫着要不要走下去；但是有一位女士走到前面去了，只有她的两位随从敢跟在她后面走。一个是样子相当谦恭的中年人，外表各方面很体面，但绝对是一个光棍的模样，也就是说，这种人任何时候都不认识任何人，无论谁也都不认识他们。另一个人不甘落后于自己的女士，完全衣衫褴褛，形迹可疑。再没有别的人跟在那位奇特的女士后面；但是，她在往下走时，甚至连头也不回一下，仿佛别人是否跟在她后面于她完全无所谓。她依然大声谈笑；衣着华贵而别致，但是过分华丽。她经过乐队走向平台的另一边，那里路旁有一辆马车在等什么人。
公爵已经有三个多月没有见到她了。来到彼得堡后所有这些日子里他一直打算到她那几去；但是，也许是一种神秘的预感阻止了他。至少他怎么也无法猜测见到她时会产生什么样的印像，而他有时候还是怀着惧怕的心情在想着，有一点他是明白的：相见将是痛苦的。在这六个月里他有好几次回忆起这个女人的脸容使他产生的最初的感受，那时他还只是看见她的肖像；但是，每当他回忆起来的时候，即使是肖像留下的印象也含着过多的痛苦。在外省那一个月，他几乎每天都与她见面，留给他的是可怕的影响，公爵有时甚至要竭力驱除对这尚为时不久的往事的回忆。对他来说，这个女人的脸上总是有一种令人痛苦的东西：在跟罗戈任谈话时，公爵把这种感受看作是无限怜悯的感受，这是真的，还是肖像上的这张脸就唤起了他心中十足痛苦和怜悯；同情甚至为这个女人痛苦的印象从来也没有离开过，现在也没有离开他的心间。哦，不，现在甚至更强烈。但是对于他跟罗戈任说的话，公爵总感到不满意；只是现在，在她突然出现的这一霎那，他才明白，也许是凭感觉，他对罗戈任说的话中还欠缺些什么。欠缺的是能够表达可怕的话；对，是可怕！现在一此刻，他完全感受到这一点了；他相信，凭自己特殊的原因完全确信，这个女人是疯了。假若在爱一个女人甚于世上的一切或者预先品尝这种爱情的可能性时，突然看见她戴着锁链镣铐在铁窗里挨着看守的棍棒，这时产生的印象就与公爵现在的感受是颇为相似的。
“您怎么啦？”阿格拉娅打量着他，一边还故意拽了一下他的胳膊，很快地低声问。
他转过头来向着她，看了她一眼，瞥见了对他来说是不可理解的此刻她那闪闪发亮的黑眼睛，他试图对她莞尔一笑，但是，突然仿佛一瞬间忘了她似的，又把视线投向右边，又开始注视起自己那非同一般的芳影来。纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜这时正经过小姐们坐的椅子。叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇继续在对亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜讲什么，大概是很可笑和有趣的事，他讲得很快，很生动，公爵记得，阿格拉娅忽然轻轻说出：“她多么……”
话没有说完，也就不能确定是什么意思；她一下子收住活头，再也没有补充什么，但这也已经够了。纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜正经过那里，似乎对谁也没特别注意，这时却突然转向他们这边，仿佛只是现在才发现叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇。
“哎呀，原来他在这儿！”她突然停下来惊呼道，“无论派哪个当差的都找不到，他却故意似的坐在这叫人想像不到的地方……我还以为，你是在……你伯父那里呢！”
叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇一下子涨红了脸，怒气冲冲地看了纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜一眼，但很快他又背转过身去。
“怎么？！难道你不知道？你们倒想想着，他竟还不知道！开熗自杀了！就在早晨你伯父开熗自杀了！我也是刚才，下午２点的时候，人家告诉的；现在半个城市的人都知道了，据说，３５万公款没有了，还有人说是５０万。可我还一直指望着他会留遗产给你；全都胡乱花光了。真是个腐化透顶的老头……好，告辞了，ｂｏｎｎｅ ｃｈａｎｃｅ＊！难道你不打算去一次？怪不得你及时告退，真是个滑头！不，这是胡说，你是知道的，早就知道了：也许，还在昨天就已知道了……”
虽然这种厚颜无耻的胡缠和故意夸大实际上并不存在的熟不拘礼和亲密无间肯定包含着某种目的，这一点现在已经不可能有任何疑问，但是叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇起先想就这么随便敷衍过去、无论怎样都不去理会这个冤枉别人的女人。但是纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜的话犹如晴天霹雳击中了他；听到伯父的死讯，他的脸白如绢帕，转身面向带来凶讯的女人。这时叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲那关娜很快地从座位上站起身，并让大家也跟着她起来，几乎像逃跑一样离开了那里。只有列夫·尼古拉耶维奇有１秒钟还目在原地，似乎踌躇不决，还有叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇也一直站着，没有恢复常态。但是叶潘钦母女尚未走开２０步，一场可怕的闹剧已经迸发开来。
＊法语：祝你好运！
叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇的好朋友、才跟阿格拉娅交谈过的军官气忿到了极点。
“实在应该用鞭子来对付她，不然什么都治不了这个贱货！”他几乎是大声地说。（他好像过去就是叶甫益尼·帕夫洛维奇信得过的人。）
“纳斯塔西沤·费利帕夫娜一下于向他转过身来。她双眼冒火，扑向站在离她两步远地方的完全陌生的年轻人，并从他手里夺过他握着的一根编织的细鞭，用足力气朝辱骂她的人脸上斜抽了一鞭。这一切是在霎那间发生的……那军官气疯了，也向她扑去；纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜身旁的随从已经不在了，体面的中年绅士早已溜得无影无踪，而醉醺醺那一位则站在一旁开怀大笑。过一会当然警察会赶来的，但是这没有意外的帮助，纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜是会吃苦头的。公爵恰好也站在离她两步远的地方，他赶紧从后面抓住了军官的手，军官挣脱自己的手，使劲朝他的胸口一推；公爵跟踉跄跄倒退了三步，跌坐在椅子上。但是这时纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜身边又有了两名保嫖。在发动进攻的军官面前站着一个拳击手，这正是读者所知道的那篇文章的作者、罗戈任过去那一伙人中的正式成员。
“凯勒尔！退伍中尉，”他神气活现地自我介绍着，“愿意徒手较量的话，大尉，我愿代替弱女子，悉听尊便：卑人学过全套英国式拳击。别推推掇掇，大尉；我同情您受到了流血的委屈，但是我不能允许您当着大庭广众对一个妇女动拳头。如果能像正人君子那样照另一种方式体面地行事，那么，您当然是会理解我的，大尉……”
但是大尉已经恍悟过来，已经不听他说了。这时从人群中出现的罗戈任迅速地抓起纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜的手，带着她跟在自己身后就走。罗戈任自己显得震惊异常，脸色苍白，打着哆嗦。他在带开纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜的时候，居然还冲着军官恶狠狠地笑了起来，并且摆出一副洋洋得意的商人模样说：
“呸！瞧你得到了什么！脸上都挂彩了，呸！”
军官醒悟过来并完全猜到了在跟谁打交道，便很有礼貌地（不过，用手帕捂住了脸）转向公爵，后者已经从椅子上站了起来：
“请问，我有幸认识的是梅什金公爵吗？”
“她发疯了！她是个疯女人！我请您相信！”公爵不知为什么向他伸去哆嗦的双手，声音颤抖地回答说。
“我当然不能说这样的消息是好消息；但是我应该知道您的名字，”
他点了一下头就走开了。在最后几位行动的人物消失以后过了５秒钟，警察赶到了。其实，这场闹剧持续了至多只有两分钟。听众中有的从椅子上站起来了，有的仅仅是从一个座位换坐到另一个座位；也有的人为看到这样的闹剧而兴奋；还有的则议论纷纷、兴致勃勃。总之，事情结束得很平常。乐队重又演奏起来。公爵跟在叶潘钦母女们后面走了。假若在人家把他推坐到椅子上的时候他能估计到或是朝左边看一下的话，那么他会看到阿格拉娅就站在离他２０步远的地方并观这一场闹剧，没有理踩已经走远的母亲和姐姐的叫唤。ω公爵跑到她跟前，终于说服了她尽快离开。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜记得，阿格拉娅回到她们那里时非常激动，因此未必听到了她们的叫唤、整整过了两分钟，她们刚刚进入公园，阿格拉娅就用她平时漫不经心和调皮的口吻说：
“我想看看，这场闹剧怎么收场。”
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 31楼  发表于: 2014-01-18 0

Part 3 Chapter 3
THE occurrence at the Vauxhall had filled both mother and daughters with something like horror. In their excitement Lizabetha Prokofievna and the girls were nearly running all the way home.
In her opinion there was so much disclosed and laid bare by the episode, that, in spite of the chaotic condition of her mind, she was able to feel more or less decided on certain points which, up to now, had been in a cloudy condition.
However, one and all of the party realized that something important had happened, and that, perhaps fortunately enough, something which had hitherto been enveloped in the obscurity of guess-work had now begun to come forth a little from the mists. In spite of Prince S.'s assurances and explanations, Evgenie Pavlovitch's real character and position were at last coming to light. He was publicly convicted of intimacy with "that creature." So thought Lizabetha Prokofievna and her two elder daughters.
But the real upshot of the business was that the number of riddles to be solved was augmented. The two girls, though rather irritated at their mother's exaggerated alarm and haste to depart from the scene, had been unwilling to worry her at first with questions.
Besides, they could not help thinking that their sister Aglaya probably knew more about the whole matter than both they and their mother put together.
Prince S. looked as black as night, and was silent and moody. Mrs. Epanchin did not say a word to him all the way home, and he did not seem to observe the fact. Adelaida tried to pump him a little by asking, "who was the uncle they were talking about, and what was it that had happened in Petersburg?" But he had merely muttered something disconnected about "making inquiries," and that "of course it was all nonsense." "Oh, of course," replied Adelaida, and asked no more questions. Aglaya, too, was very quiet; and the only remark she made on the way home was that they were "walking much too fast to be pleasant."
Once she turned and observed the prince hurrying after them. Noticing his anxiety to catch them up, she smiled ironically, and then looked back no more. At length, just as they neared the house, General Epanchin came out and met them; he had only just arrived from town.
His first word was to inquire after Evgenie Pavlovitch. But Lizabetha stalked past him, and neither looked at him nor answered his question.
He immediately judged from the faces of his daughters and Prince S. that there was a thunderstorm brewing, and he himself already bore evidences of unusual perturbation of mind.
He immediately button-holed Prince S., and standing at the front door, engaged in a whispered conversation with him. By the troubled aspect of both of them, when they entered the house, and approached Mrs. Epanchin, it was evident that they had been discussing very disturbing news.
Little by little the family gathered together upstairs in Lizabetha Prokofievna's apartments, and Prince Muishkin found himself alone on the verandah when he arrived. He settled himself in a corner and sat waiting, though he knew not what he expected. It never struck him that he had better go away, with all this disturbance in the house. He seemed to have forgotten all the world, and to be ready to sit on where he was for years on end. From upstairs he caught sounds of excited conversation every now and then.
He could not say how long he sat there. It grew late and became quite dark.
Suddenly Aglaya entered the verandah. She seemed to be quite calm, though a little pale.
Observing the prince, whom she evidently did not expect to see there, alone in the corner, she smiled, and approached him:
"What are you doing there?" she asked.
The prince muttered something, blushed, and jumped up; but Aglaya immediately sat down beside him; so he reseated himself.
She looked suddenly, but attentively into his face, then at the window, as though thinking of something else, and then again at him.
"Perhaps she wants to laugh at me," thought the prince, "but no; for if she did she certainly would do so."
"Would you like some tea? I'll order some," she said, after a minute or two of silence.
"N-no thanks, I don't know--"
"Don't know! How can you not know? By-the-by, look here--if someone were to challenge you to a duel, what should you do? I wished to ask you this--some time ago--"
"Why? Nobody would ever challenge me to a duel!"
"But if they were to, would you be dreadfully frightened?"
"I dare say I should be--much alarmed!"
"Seriously? Then are you a coward?"
"N-no!--I don't think so. A coward is a man who is afraid and runs away; the man who is frightened but does not run away, is not quite a coward," said the prince with a smile, after a moment's thought.
"And you wouldn't run away?"
"No--I don't think I should run away," replied the prince, laughing outright at last at Aglaya's questions.
"Though I am a woman, I should certainly not run away for anything," said Aglaya, in a slightly pained voice. "However, I see you are laughing at me and twisting your face up as usual in order to make yourself look more interesting. Now tell me, they generally shoot at twenty paces, don't they? At ten, sometimes? I suppose if at ten they must be either wounded or killed, mustn't they?"
"I don't think they often kill each other at duels."
"They killed Pushkin that way."
"That may have been an accident."
"Not a bit of it; it was a duel to the death, and he was killed."
"The bullet struck so low down that probably his antagonist would never have aimed at that part of him--people never do; he would have aimed at his chest or head; so that probably the bullet hit him accidentally. I have been told this by competent authorities."
"Well, a soldier once told me that they were always ordered to aim at the middle of the body. So you see they don't aim at the chest or head; they aim lower on purpose. I asked some officer about this afterwards, and he said it was perfectly true."
"That is probably when they fire from a long distance."
"Can you shoot at all?"
"No, I have never shot in my life."
"Can't you even load a pistol?"
"No! That is, I understand how it's done, of course, but I have never done it."
"Then, you don't know how, for it is a matter that needs practice. Now listen and learn; in the first place buy good powder, not damp (they say it mustn't be at all damp, but very dry), some fine kind it is--you must ask for PISTOL powder, not the stuff they load cannons with. They say one makes the bullets oneself, somehow or other. Have you got a pistol?"
"No--and I don't want one," said the prince, laughing.
"Oh, what NONSENSE! You must buy one. French or English are the best, they say. Then take a little powder, about a thimbleful, or perhaps two, and pour it into the barrel. Better put plenty. Then push in a bit of felt (it MUST be felt, for some reason or other); you can easily get a bit off some old mattress, or off a door; it's used to keep the cold out. Well, when you have pushed the felt down, put the bullet in; do you hear now? The bullet last and the powder first, not the other way, or the pistol won't shoot. What are you laughing at? I wish you to buy a pistol and practise every day, and you must learn to hit a mark for CERTAIN; will you?"
The prince only laughed. Aglaya stamped her foot with annoyance.
Her serious air, however, during this conversation had surprised him considerably. He had a feeling that he ought to be asking her something, that there was something he wanted to find out far more important than how to load a pistol; but his thoughts had all scattered, and he was only aware that she was sitting by, him, and talking to him, and that he was looking at her; as to what she happened to be saying to him, that did not matter in the least.
The general now appeared on the verandah, coming from upstairs. He was on his way out, with an expression of determination on his face, and of preoccupation and worry also.
"Ah! Lef Nicolaievitch, it's you, is it? Where are you off to now?" he asked, oblivious of the fact that the prince had not showed the least sign of moving. "Come along with me; I want to say a word or two to you."
"Au revoir, then!" said Aglaya, holding out her hand to the prince.
It was quite dark now, and Muishkin could not see her face clearly, but a minute or two later, when he and the general had left the villa, he suddenly flushed up, and squeezed his right hand tightly.
It appeared that he and the general were going in the same direction. In spite of the lateness of the hour, the general was hurrying away to talk to someone upon some important subject. Meanwhile he talked incessantly but disconnectedly to the prince, and continually brought in the name of Lizabetha Prokofievna.
If the prince had been in a condition to pay more attention to what the general was saying, he would have discovered that the latter was desirous of drawing some information out of him, or indeed of asking him some question outright; but that he could not make up his mind to come to the point.
Muishkin was so absent, that from the very first he could not attend to a word the other was saying; and when the general suddenly stopped before him with some excited question, he was obliged to confess, ignominiously, that he did not know in the least what he had been talking about.
The general shrugged his shoulders.
"How strange everyone, yourself included, has become of late," said he. "I was telling you that I cannot in the least understand Lizabetha Prokofievna's ideas and agitations. She is in hysterics up there, and moans and says that we have been 'shamed and disgraced.' How? Why? When? By whom? I confess that I am very much to blame myself; I do not conceal the fact; but the conduct, the outrageous behaviour of this woman, must really be kept within limits, by the police if necessary, and I am just on my way now to talk the question over and make some arrangements. It can all be managed quietly and gently, even kindly, and without the slightest fuss or scandal. I foresee that the future is pregnant with events, and that there is much that needs explanation. There is intrigue in the wind; but if on one side nothing is known, on the other side nothing will be explained. If I have heard nothing about it, nor have YOU, nor HE, nor SHE-- who HAS heard about it, I should like to know? How CAN all this be explained except by the fact that half of it is mirage or moonshine, or some hallucination of that sort?"
"SHE is insane," muttered the prince, suddenly recollecting all that had passed, with a spasm of pain at his heart.
"I too had that idea, and I slept in peace. But now I see that their opinion is more correct. I do not believe in the theory of madness! The woman has no common sense; but she is not only not insane, she is artful to a degree. Her outburst of this evening about Evgenie's uncle proves that conclusively. It was VILLAINOUS, simply jesuitical, and it was all for some special purpose."
"What about Evgenie's uncle?"
"My goodness, Lef Nicolaievitch, why, you can't have heard a single word I said! Look at me, I'm still trembling all over with the dreadful shock! It is that that kept me in town so late. Evgenie Pavlovitch's uncle--"
Well?" cried the prince.
"Shot himself this morning, at seven o'clock. A respected, eminent old man of seventy; and exactly point for point as she described it; a sum of money, a considerable sum of government money, missing!"
"Why, how could she--"
"What, know of it? Ha, ha, ha! Why, there was a whole crowd round her the moment she appeared on the scenes here. You know what sort of people surround her nowadays, and solicit the honour of her 'acquaintance.' Of course she might easily have heard the news from someone coming from town. All Petersburg, if not all Pavlofsk, knows it by now. Look at the slyness of her observation about Evgenie's uniform! I mean, her remark that he had retired just in time! There's a venomous hint for you, if you like! No, no! there's no insanity there! Of course I refuse to believe that Evgenie Pavlovitch could have known beforehand of the catastrophe; that is, that at such and such a day at seven o'clock, and all that; but he might well have had a presentiment of the truth. And I--all of us--Prince S. and everybody, believed that he was to inherit a large fortune from this uncle. It's dreadful, horrible! Mind, I don't suspect Evgenie of anything, be quite clear on that point; but the thing is a little suspicious, nevertheless. Prince S. can't get over it. Altogether it is a very extraordinary combination of circumstances."
"What suspicion attaches to Evgenie Pavlovitch?"
"Oh, none at all! He has behaved very well indeed. I didn't mean to drop any sort of hint. His own fortune is intact, I believe. Lizabetha Prokofievna, of course, refuses to listen to anything. That's the worst of it all, these family catastrophes or quarrels, or whatever you like to call them. You know, prince, you are a friend of the family, so I don't mind telling you; it now appears that Evgenie Pavlovitch proposed to Aglaya a month ago, and was refused."
"Impossible!" cried the prince.
"Why? Do you know anything about it? Look here," continued the general, more agitated than ever, and trembling with excitement, "maybe I have been letting the cat out of the bag too freely with you, if so, it is because you are--that sort of man, you know! Perhaps you have some special information?"
"I know nothing about Evgenie Pavlovitch!" said the prince.
"Nor do I! They always try to bury me underground when there's anything going on; they don't seem to reflect that it is unpleasant to a man to be treated so! I won't stand it! We have just had a terrible scene!--mind, I speak to you as I would to my own son! Aglaya laughs at her mother. Her sisters guessed about Evgenie having proposed and been rejected, and told Lizabetha.
"I tell you, my dear fellow, Aglaya is such an extraordinary, such a self-willed, fantastical little creature, you wouldn't believe it! Every high quality, every brilliant trait of heart and mind, are to be found in her, and, with it all, so much caprice and mockery, such wild fancies--indeed, a little devil! She has just been laughing at her mother to her very face, and at her sisters, and at Prince S., and everybody--and of course she always laughs at me! You know I love the child--I love her even when she laughs at me, and I believe the wild little creature has a special fondness for me for that very reason. She is fonder of me than any of the others. I dare swear she has had a good laugh at YOU before now! You were having a quiet talk just now, I observed, after all the thunder and lightning upstairs. She was sitting with you just as though there had been no row at all."
The prince blushed painfully in the darkness, and closed his right hand tightly, but he said nothing.
"My dear good Prince Lef Nicolaievitch," began the general again, suddenly, "both I and Lizabetha Prokofievna--(who has begun to respect you once more, and me through you, goodness knows why!)-- we both love you very sincerely, and esteem you, in spite of any appearances to the contrary. But you'll admit what a riddle it must have been for us when that calm, cold, little spitfire, Aglaya--(for she stood up to her mother and answered her questions with inexpressible contempt, and mine still more so, because, like a fool, I thought it my duty to assert myself as head of the family)--when Aglaya stood up of a sudden and informed us that 'that madwoman' (strangely enough, she used exactly the same expression as you did) 'has taken it into her head to marry me to Prince Lef Nicolaievitch, and therefore is doing her best to choke Evgenie Pavlovitch off, and rid the house of him.' That's what she said. She would not give the slightest explanation; she burst out laughing, banged the door, and went away. We all stood there with our mouths open. Well, I was told afterwards of your little passage with Aglaya this afternoon, and-and--dear prince--you are a good, sensible fellow, don't be angry if I speak out--she is laughing at you, my boy! She is enjoying herself like a child, at your expense, and therefore, since she is a child, don't be angry with her, and don't think anything of it. I assure you, she is simply making a fool of you, just as she does with one and all of us out of pure lack of something better to do. Well--good-bye! You know our feelings, don't you--our sincere feelings for yourself? They are unalterable, you know, dear boy, under all circumstances, but-- Well, here we part; I must go down to the right. Rarely have I sat so uncomfortably in my saddle, as they say, as I now sit. And people talk of the charms of a country holiday!"
Left to himself at the cross-roads, the prince glanced around him, quickly crossed the road towards the lighted window of a neighbouring house, and unfolded a tiny scrap of paper which he had held clasped in his right hand during the whole of his conversation with the general.
He read the note in the uncertain rays that fell from the window. It was as follows:
"Tomorrow morning, I shall be at the green bench in the park at seven, and shall wait there for you. I have made up my mind to speak to you about a most important matter which closely concerns yourself.
"P.S.--I trust that you will not show this note to anyone. Though I am ashamed of giving you such instructions, I feel that I must do so, considering what you are. I therefore write the words, and blush for your simple character.
"P.P.S.--It is the same green bench that I showed you before. There! aren't you ashamed of yourself? I felt that it was necessary to repeat even that information."
The note was written and folded anyhow, evidently in a great hurry, and probably just before Aglaya had come down to the verandah.
In inexpressible agitation, amounting almost to fear, the prince slipped quickly away from the window, away from the light, like a frightened thief, but as he did so he collided violently with some gentleman who seemed to spring from the earth at his feet.
"I was watching for you, prince," said the individual.
"Is that you, Keller?" said the prince, in surprise.
"Yes, I've been looking for you. I waited for you at the Epanchins' house, but of course I could not come in. I dogged you from behind as you walked along with the general. Well, prince, here is Keller, absolutely at your service--command him!--ready to sacrifice himself--even to die in case of need."
"But-why?"
"Oh, why?--Of course you'll be challenged! That was young Lieutenant Moloftsoff. I know him, or rather of him; he won't pass an insult. He will take no notice of Rogojin and myself, and, therefore, you are the only one left to account for. You'll have to pay the piper, prince. He has been asking about you, and undoubtedly his friend will call on you tomorrow--perhaps he is at your house already. If you would do me the honour to have me for a second, prince, I should be happy. That's why I have been looking for you now."
"Duel! You've come to talk about a duel, too!" The prince burst out laughing, to the great astonishment of Keller. He laughed unrestrainedly, and Keller, who had been on pins and needles, and in a fever of excitement to offer himself as "second," was very near being offended.
"You caught him by the arms, you know, prince. No man of proper pride can stand that sort of treatment in public."
"Yes, and he gave me a fearful dig in the chest," cried the prince, still laughing. "What are we to fight about? I shall beg his pardon, that's all. But if we must fight--we'll fight! Let him have a shot at me, by all means; I should rather like it. Ha, ha, ha! I know how to load a pistol now; do you know how to load a pistol, Keller? First, you have to buy the powder, you know; it mustn't be wet, and it mustn't be that coarse stuff that they load cannons with--it must be pistol powder. Then you pour the powder in, and get hold of a bit of felt from some door, and then shove the bullet in. But don't shove the bullet in before the powder, because the thing wouldn't go off--do you hear, Keller, the thing wouldn't go off! Ha, ha, ha! Isn't that a grand reason, Keller, my friend, eh? Do you know, my dear fellow, I really must kiss you, and embrace you, this very moment. Ha, ha! How was it you so suddenly popped up in front of me as you did? Come to my house as soon as you can, and we'll have some champagne. We'll all get drunk! Do you know I have a dozen of champagne in Lebedeff's cellar? Lebedeff sold them to me the day after I arrived. I took the lot. We'll invite everybody! Are you going to do any sleeping tonight?"
"As much as usual, prince--why?"
"Pleasant dreams then--ha, ha!"
The prince crossed the road, and disappeared into the park, leaving the astonished Keller in a state of ludicrous wonder. He had never before seen the prince in such a strange condition of mind, and could not have imagined the possibility of it.
"Fever, probably," he said to himself, "for the man is all nerves, and this business has been a little too much for him. He is not AFRAID, that's clear; that sort never funks! H'm! champagne! That was an interesting item of news, at all events!-- Twelve bottles! Dear me, that's a very respectable little stock indeed! I bet anything Lebedeff lent somebody money on deposit of this dozen of champagne. Hum! he's a nice fellow, is this prince! I like this sort of man. Well, I needn't be wasting time here, and if it's a case of champagne, why--there's no time like the present!"
That the prince was almost in a fever was no more than the truth. He wandered about the park for a long while, and at last came to himself in a lonely avenue. He was vaguely conscious that he had already paced this particular walk--from that large, dark tree to the bench at the other end--about a hundred yards altogether--at least thirty times backwards and forwards.
As to recollecting what he had been thinking of all that time, he could not. He caught himself, however, indulging in one thought which made him roar with laughter, though there was nothing really to laugh at in it; but he felt that he must laugh, and go on laughing.
It struck him that the idea of the duel might not have occurred to Keller alone, but that his lesson in the art of pistol-loading might have been not altogether accidental! "Pooh! nonsense!" he said to himself, struck by another thought, of a sudden. "Why, she was immensely surprised to find me there on the verandah, and laughed and talked about TEA! And yet she had this little note in her hand, therefore she must have known that I was sitting there. So why was she surprised? Ha, ha, ha!"
He pulled the note out and kissed it; then paused and reflected. "How strange it all is! how strange!" he muttered, melancholy enough now. In moments of great joy, he invariably felt a sensation of melancholy come over him--he could not tell why.
He looked intently around him, and wondered why he had come here; he was very tired, so he approached the bench and sat down on it. Around him was profound silence; the music in the Vauxhall was over. The park seemed quite empty, though it was not, in reality, later than half-past eleven. It was a quiet, warm, clear night--a real Petersburg night of early June; but in the dense avenue, where he was sitting, it was almost pitch dark.
If anyone had come up at this moment and told him that he was in love, passionately in love, he would have rejected the idea with astonishment, and, perhaps, with irritation. And if anyone had added that Aglaya's note was a love-letter, and that it contained an appointment to a lover's rendezvous, he would have blushed with shame for the speaker, and, probably, have challenged him to a duel.
All this would have been perfectly sincere on his part. He had never for a moment entertained the idea of the possibility of this girl loving him, or even of such a thing as himself falling in love with her. The possibility of being loved himself, "a man like me," as he put it, he ranked among ridiculous suppositions. It appeared to him that it was simply a joke on Aglaya's part, if there really were anything in it at all; but that seemed to him quite natural. His preoccupation was caused by something different.
As to the few words which the general had let slip about Aglaya laughing at everybody, and at himself most of all--he entirely believed them. He did not feel the slightest sensation of offence; on the contrary, he was quite certain that it was as it should be.
His whole thoughts were now as to next morning early; he would see her; he would sit by her on that little green bench, and listen to how pistols were loaded, and look at her. He wanted nothing more.
The question as to what she might have to say of special interest to himself occurred to him once or twice. He did not doubt, for a moment, that she really had some such subject of conversation in store, but so very little interested in the matter was he that it did not strike him to wonder what it could be. The crunch of gravel on the path suddenly caused him to raise his head.
A man, whose face it was difficult to see in the gloom, approached the bench, and sat down beside him. The prince peered into his face, and recognized the livid features of Rogojin.
"I knew you'd be wandering about somewhere here. I didn't have to look for you very long," muttered the latter between his teeth.
It was the first time they had met since the encounter on the staircase at the hotel.
Painfully surprised as he was at this sudden apparition of Rogojin, the prince, for some little while, was unable to collect his thoughts. Rogojin, evidently, saw and understood the impression he had made; and though he seemed more or less confused at first, yet he began talking with what looked like assumed ease and freedom. However, the prince soon changed his mind on this score, and thought that there was not only no affectation of indifference, but that Rogojin was not even particularly agitated. If there were a little apparent awkwardness, it was only in his words and gestures. The man could not change his heart.
"How did you--find me here?" asked the prince for the sake of saying something.
"Keller told me (I found him at your place) that you were in the park. 'Of course he is!' I thought."
"Why so?" asked the prince uneasily.
Rogojin smiled, but did not explain.
"I received your letter, Lef Nicolaievitch--what's the good of all that?--It's no use, you know. I've come to you from HER,--she bade me tell you that she must see you, she has something to say to you. She told me to find you today."
"I'll come tomorrow. Now I'm going home--are you coming to my house?"
"Why should I? I've given you the message.--Goodbye!"
"Won't you come?" asked the prince in a gentle voice.
"What an extraordinary man you are! I wonder at you!" Rogojin laughed sarcastically.
"Why do you hate me so?" asked the prince, sadly. "You know yourself that all you suspected is quite unfounded. I felt you were still angry with me, though. Do you know why? Because you tried to kill me--that's why you can't shake off your wrath against me. I tell you that I only remember the Parfen Rogojin with whom I exchanged crosses, and vowed brotherhood. I wrote you this in yesterday's letter, in order that you might forget all that madness on your part, and that you might not feel called to talk about it when we met. Why do you avoid me? Why do you hold your hand back from me? I tell you again, I consider all that has passed a delirium, an insane dream. I can understand all you did, and all you felt that day, as if it were myself. What you were then imagining was not the case, and could never be the case. Why, then, should there be anger between us?"
"You don't know what anger is!" laughed Rogojin, in reply to the prince's heated words.
He had moved a pace or two away, and was hiding his hands behind him.
"No, it is impossible for me to come to your house again," he added slowly.
"Why? Do you hate me so much as all that?"
"I don't love you, Lef Nicolaievitch, and, therefore, what would be the use of my coming to see you? You are just like a child-- you want a plaything, and it must be taken out and given you--and then you don't know how to work it. You are simply repeating all you said in your letter, and what's the use? Of course I believe every word you say, and I know perfectly well that you neither did or ever can deceive me in any way, and yet, I don't love you. You write that you've forgotten everything, and only remember your brother Parfen, with whom you exchanged crosses, and that you don't remember anything about the Rogojin who aimed a knife at your throat. What do you know about my feelings, eh?" (Rogojin laughed disagreeably.) "Here you are holding out your brotherly forgiveness to me for a thing that I have perhaps never repented of in the slightest degree. I did not think of it again all that evening; all my thoughts were centred on something else--"
"Not think of it again? Of course you didn't!" cried the prince. "And I dare swear that you came straight away down here to Pavlofsk to listen to the music and dog her about in the crowd, and stare at her, just as you did today. There's nothing surprising in that! If you hadn't been in that condition of mind that you could think of nothing but one subject, you would, probably, never have raised your knife against me. I had a presentiment of what you would do, that day, ever since I saw you first in the morning. Do you know yourself what you looked like? I knew you would try to murder me even at the very moment when we exchanged crosses. What did you take me to your mother for? Did you think to stay your hand by doing so? Perhaps you did not put your thoughts into words, but you and I were thinking the same thing, or feeling the same thing looming over us, at the same moment. What should you think of me now if you had not raised your knife to me--the knife which God averted from my throat? I would have been guilty of suspecting you all the same--and you would have intended the murder all the same; therefore we should have been mutually guilty in any case. Come, don't frown; you needn't laugh at me, either. You say you haven't 'repented.' Repented! You probably couldn't, if you were to try; you dislike me too much for that. Why, if I were an angel of light, and as innocent before you as a babe, you would still loathe me if you believed that SHE loved me, instead of loving yourself. That's jealousy--that is the real jealousy.
"But do you know what I have been thinking out during this last week, Parfen? I'll tell you. What if she loves you now better than anyone? And what if she torments you BECAUSE she loves you, and in proportion to her love for you, so she torments you the more? She won't tell you this, of course; you must have eyes to see. Why do you suppose she consents to marry you? She must have a reason, and that reason she will tell you some day. Some women desire the kind of love you give her, and she is probably one of these. Your love and your wild nature impress her. Do you know that a woman is capable of driving a man crazy almost, with her cruelties and mockeries, and feels not one single pang of regret, because she looks at him and says to herself, 'There! I'll torment this man nearly into his grave, and then, oh! how I'll compensate him for it all with my love!'"
Rogojin listened to the end, and then burst out laughing:
"Why, prince, I declare you must have had a taste of this sort of thing yourself--haven't you? I have heard tell of something of the kind, you know; is it true?"
"What? What can you have heard?" said the prince, stammering.
Rogojin continued to laugh loudly. He had listened to the prince's speech with curiosity and some satisfaction. The speaker's impulsive warmth had surprised and even comforted him.
"Why, I've not only heard of it; I see it for myself," he said. "When have you ever spoken like that before? It wasn't like yourself, prince. Why, if I hadn't heard this report about you, I should never have come all this way into the park--at midnight, too!"
"I don't understand you in the least, Parfen."
"Oh, SHE told me all about it long ago, and tonight I saw for myself. I saw you at the music, you know, and whom you were sitting with. She swore to me yesterday, and again today, that you are madly in love with Aglaya Ivanovna. But that's all the same to me, prince, and it's not my affair at all; for if you have ceased to love HER, SHE has not ceased to love YOU. You know, of course, that she wants to marry you to that girl? She's sworn to it! Ha, ha! She says to me, 'Until then I won't marry you. When they go to church, we'll go too-and not before.' What on earth does she mean by it? I don't know, and I never did. Either she loves you without limits or--yet, if she loves you, why does she wish to marry you to another girl? She says, 'I want to see him happy,' which is to say--she loves you."
"I wrote, and I say to you once more, that she is not in her right mind," said the prince, who had listened with anguish to what Rogojin said.
"Goodness knows--you may be wrong there! At all events, she named the day this evening, as we left the gardens. 'In three weeks,' says she, 'and perhaps sooner, we shall be married.' She swore to it, took off her cross and kissed it. So it all depends upon you now, prince, You see! Ha, ha!"
"That's all madness. What you say about me, Parfen, never can and never will be. Tomorrow, I shall come and see you--"
"How can she be mad," Rogojin interrupted, "when she is sane enough for other people and only mad for you? How can she write letters to HER, if she's mad? If she were insane they would observe it in her letters."
"What letters?" said the prince, alarmed.
"She writes to HER--and the girl reads the letters. Haven't you heard?--You are sure to hear; she's sure to show you the letters herself."
"I won't believe this!" cried the prince.
"Why, prince, you've only gone a few steps along this road, I perceive. You are evidently a mere beginner. Wait a bit! Before long, you'll have your own detectives, you'll watch day and night, and you'll know every little thing that goes on there-- that is, if--"
"Drop that subject, Rogojin, and never mention it again. And listen: as I have sat here, and talked, and listened, it has suddenly struck me that tomorrow is my birthday. It must be about twelve o'clock, now; come home with me--do, and we'll see the day in! We'll have some wine, and you shall wish me--I don't know what--but you, especially you, must wish me a good wish, and I shall wish you full happiness in return. Otherwise, hand me my cross back again. You didn't return it to me next day. Haven't you got it on now?"
"Yes, I have," said Rogojin.
"Come along, then. I don't wish to meet my new year without you-- my new life, I should say, for a new life is beginning for me. Did you know, Parfen, that a new life had begun for me?"
"I see for myself that it is so--and I shall tell HER. But you are not quite yourself, Lef Nicolaievitch."

车站上发生的风波几乎震骇了母亲和女儿们。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜在惊惶不安中带着女儿们几乎是一路跑回了家。就她的观点和概念来说，发生的事情大多了，在这场风波中暴露的情况也够多了，因而尽管头脑里一团乱麻和惊恐万分，她还是萌生了一些断然的想法。但是大家也明白，发生的事颇为特殊，也许还是一种幸运，因为开始暴露出某种非同寻常的秘密，虽然ω公爵以前做过担保和解释，但是叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇“如今原形毕露”，被揭穿了，其面目被公之于众，“与这个贱货的关系也正式暴露了”。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜，甚至两位姐姐都是这么想的。这一结论引出的结果是，谜积得更多了。小姐们虽然对于母亲表现出的过分强烈的惊恐和如此明显的逃跑行为暗自感到有些怨愤，但是在惊魂未定的慌乱之初她们不敢拿问题去打扰她，此外，不知为什么两位姐姐觉得，她们的小妹妹阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜大概在这件事上知道得比她们与母亲三人知道的还多。ω公爵神情也如夜色一般阴沉，也在深深沉思。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜一路上没跟他说一句话，而他好像并没有发觉这一点，阿杰莱达试着探问他：“刚才说的怕父是什么人？彼得堡那边发生了什么事？”他一脸尴尬的神色，对她低语着做了非常含糊的回答，说什么要作调查，说这一切当然是无稽之谈；“这一点毫无疑问！”阿杰莱达回答说，便再也没有问他什么了。阿格拉娅不知怎么的变得十分平静，一路上只指出她们跑得太快了。有一次她转过身来看见了正在追他们的公爵。她发觉他赶得很吃力，便做了一个嘲笑，再也不回看他了。
最后，几乎就在别墅面前，刚从彼得堡回来的伊万·费奥多罗维奇正迎着她们走来。他第一句话就打听叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇。但是将军夫人既不答话也不朝他看一眼便威严地打他身边走了过去。从女儿们和ω公爵的目光中他马上就猜到，家中即将有一场暴风雨。但是他自己的脸上本来就流露出异乎寻常的不安。他立即就挽起ω公爵的手臂，在家门口停住脚，几率是耳语一般跟他交谈了几句话。后来他们走上了露台，向叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜走去，从他们两人忧虑不安的样子可以想到，他们俩听说了什么非同一般的消息。渐渐地大家都聚集在楼上叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜那里，最后在露台上只剩下了公爵一个人。他坐在角落里，仿佛在期待什么似的，不过他自己也不知道为什么留在这里；看到这一家人惊惶慌乱的样子，他想都没想过要离去；似乎他忘了整个宇宙，无论把他安顿在哪儿坐，他都准备连着坐上哪怕两年也成。有时他听到从上面传来的忐忑不安的谈话声。他自己也说不上在那儿坐了多久。已经很晚了，完全天黑了，阿格拉娅突然走到露台上来；看样子她安静，虽然略显苍白。显然她没有料到会在这儿遇见坐在角落里椅子上的公爵。看见他后，阿格拉娅似乎困惑地怅然一笑。
“您在这里做什么？”她走到他跟前说。
公爵很窘，从椅上跳起身，喃喃着什么；但阿格拉娅立刻就坐到他身边，他才又坐下。突然她凝神审视着他，接着又看了一眼窗外，仿佛无所用心，然后又望着他。“也许，她想笑出来，”公爵思忖着，“但不是这样，她不是那时就笑了吗？”
“也许，您想喝点茶，我就吩咐，”在沉默片刻后她说。
“不--用……我不知道……”
“得了，怎么连这也不知道！啊，对了，您听好：假如有人向您提出决斗，您会怎么做？这是刚才我就想问了。”
“可是……什么人会……谁也没有向我提出决斗。”
“喏，假如提出呢？您会很惧怕吗？”
“我想，我是会……很害怕的。”
“真的吗？这么说您是胆小鬼。”
“不－－，也许不是。那种害怕并逃跑的人才是胆小鬼；而害怕但并不逃跑的人还不是胆小鬼，”公爵想了一下说。
“那么您不会逃走喏？”
“也许我不会逃走，”终于他笑着回答阿格拉娅的问题。
“我虽然是个女子，但无论如何不会逃跑，”她几乎是受了委屈似地说，“不过，您是在笑话我，并且按照您平常的习惯在装聋作哑，以便为自己增添更多的兴趣；请告诉我：一般是相距１２步开熗吗？有的甚至是１０步，因而。这一定会打死或打伤人？”
“决斗时大概很少打中人。”
“怎么会少？普希金就是被打死的。”
“这也许是偶然的。”
“根本不是偶然的；那是一场生死决斗，他就被打死了。”
“子弹打中的部位很低，可以肯定，丹特士瞄淮的部位要高些，是胸部或头部；而像子弹打中的部位，谁也不会瞄准的，因此，多半是偶然打中了普希金，是失手。这是内行的人告诉我的。”
“我有一次跟一个士兵聊天，他告诉我，按照操典规定，他们分散射击时，特意规定要瞄准半身腰，他们是这么说的：‘半身腰’，因此，这就已经不是瞄准胸部和头部了，而是特意规定朝半身腰开熗的。我后来又问过一个军官，他说，确实是这样的。”
“这是对的，因为是从远处射击。”
“您会开熗吗？”
“我从来也没有开过熗。”
“难道连装手熗子弹都不会？”
“不会。也就是说，我知道该怎么做，但我自己从来没有装过。”
“噢，是这样，这就是说您不会，因为这是需要实践的！您听着并记注：第一，买一些好的手熗火药，不要湿的（据说，一定不能要湿的，而要很干燥的），要一种细的，您一定要这一种，不要大炮里用的那种。据说，自己也能浇铸子弹。您有手熗吗？”
“没有，也不需要，”公爵突然笑了起来。
“啊，尽是胡说！一定得买，要好的，法国的或是英国的，据说，是最好的。然后您就拿顶针那么木一小泥，也许，是两小撮火药灌进去。最好多放些。用一块毡将它们塞紧（据说，一定要用毡，也不知为什么），毡随便什么地方都可以弄到，从床垫或门上撕一块下来就行，有的门上包着毡。然后，塞了毡以后再放子弹，听见了吧，后放子弹，先放火药，不然打不响。您笑什么？我要您每天都练上几次，一定能学会射中目标的。您能做到吗？”
公爵笑着；阿格拉娅着恼地跺了一下脚。她谈这一番话时那一本正经的样子使公爵有些诧异。他在某种程度上感到，他应该打听些什么，询问些什么，至少是比装手熗弹药更正经些的事。但是这一切全从他脑子里飞走了，接下来的就一件事：她坐在他面前，而他望着她，至于她在说什么，此刻对他来说几乎是无所谓的。
后来伊万·费奥多罗维奇自己也从楼上下来走到露台上；他一副愁眉苦脸，忧心忡忡和坚决果断的神情，正要到哪里去。
“啊，列夫·尼古拉伊奇，你……现在去哪里？”尽管列夫·尼古拉那维奇根本就没打算离开，他还是问，“我们走吧，我有话对你说。”
“再见，”阿格拉娅说，并向公爵递过手去。
露台上已经相当幽暗了，公爵这时无法清楚地看清她的脸。过了一会儿，他和将军已经要走出别墅时，他突然脸红得厉害，便牢牢握紧自己的右手。
原来伊万·费奥多罗维奇跟他是同路。尽管时间已经很晚了，伊万·费奥多罗维奇还急于要跟什么人谈什么事。但是现在他突然跟公爵谈了起来，说得很快，语气惊慌不安，相当语无伦次，谈话中常常提及叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜。如果公爵这时注意些的话，那么他也许能猜测到，伊万·费奥多罗维奇顺便想从他那里探询什么，或者莫如说，想直截了当和开门见山地问他什么，但是老是未能触及最主要的点。公爵感到很不好意思，因为他显得那样心不在焉，甚至从一开始就什么也没听进去，当将军停在他面前急切地问一个问题的时候，他不得不向他承认，他一点也没听明白。
将军耸了耸肩。
“你们郁成了某种怪人，从各方面来看都是这样，”他又开始说，“我对你说，我完全不明白叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜的想法和焦虑。她歇斯底里大发作，又哭又闹，说什么有人羞辱了我们，使我们蒙受了耻层。是谁？是怎么侮辱的？是同谁发生了冲突？什么时候又是为什么？我承认自己有过错：（我承认这点），有许多错，但是这个……不安分的（而且行为不良的）女人这样死乞白赖胡缠不休，最终可能会由警察出面加以限制的，我甚至今天就打算去跟什么人见面并事先打好招呼。一切都可以悄悄地、委婉地、甚至温和地妥善解决，不伤交情，绝不闹僵。我也认为未来会发生很多事情，有许多问题尚未弄清楚；这里面有阴谋；但是如果这里什么也不知道，那里还是什么都不会解释；如果我没有听说，你没有听说，他没有听说，第四个也一无所闻，那么请问，最后谁会听说呢？照你看，用什么可以解释这件事？除非是，事情多半是捕风捉影，是不存在的，比方说，犹如月光……或者其他的幻影。”
“她发疯了，”公爵忽然痛苦地想起不久前发生的一切，喃喃说。
“如果你说的是她，那是不谋而合。有时候我也产生这样的想法，于是也就安然入睡了。但是现在我认为，别人的想法正确些，所以我不相信是精神不正常。可以认为这个女人好闹事，不仅不疯，而且闹起来还挺有心计，今天对于卡比东·阿列克谢伊奇所做的反常行为完全可以证明这一点。从她这方面来讲，这事肯定有欺诈，至少是诡计多端，别有用心。”
“哪一个卡比东·阿列克谢伊奇？”
“啊，我的上帝，列夫·尼古拉那维奇，你什么也没听进去。我一开始对你说的就是卡比东·阿列克谢伊奇的事；这事真使我震惊不已，甚至现在手脚还在打颤，为了这件事今天我才去城里多耽搁了。卡比东·阿列克谢伊奇·拉多姆斯基，就是叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇的伯父……”
“噢！”公爵恍然发出喊声。
“他是开熗自杀的，清早，黎明，７广钟的时候，是个受人尊敬的老人，７０岁，很会享受。她说的一点不错，是少了一笔公款，款项很大的一笔数字！”
“她打哪儿……”
“知道的？哈－哈！要知道她刚一出现，在她周围就形成了一整个参谋部。你知道吗，现在去拜访她和寻求结识她这种‘荣幸’的是些什么人？很自然刚才她就能从来人那里听到什么情况，因为现在整个彼得堡都已知道了，就是这里也有半个帕夫洛夫斯克甚或整个帕夫洛夫斯克都知道了。据人家告诉我，关于脱去军装的事，也就是关于叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇及时引退的事，我的见解是多么透彻啊！真是绝妙的暗示！不，这不是疯癫的表现。当然，也是不相信叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇事先就知道会发生灾祸，也就是说知道在某日７点钟发生等等。但是他能预感到这一切。而我，我们大家以及ω公爵还指望他伯父会给他留下遗产呢！真可怕！真可怕！不过你要懂得，我丝毫也不责怪叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，并急于向你说明这一点，但是终究还是令人怀疑的。ω公爵异常震惊。这一切发生得似乎有点怪。”
“但是叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇的行为有什么可怀疑的呢？”
“丝毫也没有！他的举止光明正大，我也没有任何暗示。至于说他自己财产嘛，我想，他是会完整保留好的。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜当然想听……但主要的是，所有这一切家庭的灾难，或者最好说所有这些争吵，甚至不知道称什么好……你，说真的，是我家的朋友，列夫·尼古拉那维奇，你想想，刚才知道，不过可能不确切，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇似乎在一个月前就已经对阿格拉娅表白了爱情，好像遭到了她的正式拒绝。”
“不可能！”公爵激动地喊了起来。
“难道你了解什么内情？你瞧，最亲爱的，”将军为之一震，惊讶得一不动站在那里，“也许，我跟你谈这些是多余的和不体面的，但是要知道这是因为你……你……可以说，因为你是这样一个人。也许，你知道什么特别的情况？”
“我什么也不了解……叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，”公爵喃喃着说。
“我也不了解！……兄弟，他们简直要把我……把我埋入土中葬了，他们就不想想，这对一个人来说多么难受，我也忍受不了。刚才又闹了一场，多可怕！我就像对亲儿子一样对你说这些。主要是，阿格拉娅确实是在嘲笑逗乐，关于她在一个月前好像拒绝了叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇以及她们曾经有过相当正式的表态，是她的两个姐姐作为猜测告诉我的……不过，她们的猜测很有把握。但是要知道，她是个任性的姑娘，充满稀奇古怪的念头，真是没法说！宽厚豁达、心灵和智慧的一切杰出品质--这一切在她身上大概都是具备的，但是与此同时她也顽皮任性，爱讽刺嘲笑，一句话，魔鬼般的性格还加上好发奇想。刚才还当面嘲笑母亲，嘲笑姐姐，嘲笑ω公爵；更不用说对我了，她是难得有不嘲笑我的时候的，但是我算得了什么，要知道，我爱她，甚至就爱她笑话我，也就是说，比任何人都更爱她，好像是这样。我敢打赌，她连您也已经在嘲笑什么了，刚才楼上大发雷霆之后，我发现你们在交谈：她跟你坐在那里好像没事儿似的。”
公爵脸红得不得了，握紧右手，但是没有作声。
“亲爱的，我的好人列夫·尼古拉那维奇！”将军突然满怀感情并激动地说，“我……甚至叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜本人（不过，她又开始骂你了，由于你还同时骂我，只是我不明白是为什么），我们终究是爱你的，真诚地爱你和尊敬你，甚至不论怎样，也就是说，不论表面上怎样。但是，你也会同意的，亲爱的朋友，你自己也会同意的，突然听到这个冷血鬼说出那番话，会多么莫名其妙，多么烦恼（因为她在母亲面前，摆上一副对所有我们的问题不屑置理的神态，尤其是对我的问题，因为我，真见鬼，犯了傻，因为我是一家之长，我想出来要摆摆威风--嘿，犯了傻），这个冷血鬼突然冷笑着声称，这个“疯女人”（她是这么说的，我觉得奇怪，她跟你说的是一样的话：‘难道你们至今还猜不到’？，“这个疯女人坚持无论如何要我嫁给列夫·尼古拉那维奇公爵，为此她要把叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇撵出我们家……”就这么说，没再做任何解释，只顾自己哈哈大笑，我们则目瞪口呆，她却嘭一声关上门，走了。后来她们把刚才跟她和跟你有关的事告诉了我……还有……还有……听着，亲爱的公爵，你不是个好见怪的人，你很明白事理的，我发现你身上有这样的品质，但是……请别生气：真的，她嘲笑你，她像孩子似地笑闹，因此你别生她气，但事情肯走是这样的。你别多作他想，她不过是愚弄你和我们大家，是出于无所事事。好了，再见！你了解我们的感情吗？了解我们对你的真挚感情吗？这种感情是始终不渝的，永远不变，丝毫不变……但是……现在我要往这里走了，再见，过去我很少像现在这样心绪不宁的（这是怎么说的？）……啊，前面是别墅！”
剩下一个人在岔路口时，公爵朝周围打量了一下，很快地穿过街，走近一憧别墅亮着灯的窗口，展开一张纸片。在跟伊万·费奥多罗维奇谈话的时候，他一直紧紧地把它捏在右手里。现在就着微弱的光线，他读着：
“明天早晨７点我将在公园的绿椅子上等您。我决定告诉您一件异常重要的事，它直接关系到您。
又及，我希望，您不要把这张字条给任何人看，虽然对您写上这样的叮嘱我感到很不好意思，但是我考虑的结果，认为这对您是必要的，所以就写上了，因为我为您那可笑的性格而感到羞愧脸红。
又又及，那张绿色条椅就是刚才指给您看的那一张，您真得感到难为情！我不得不也写明这一点。”
字条是匆匆写就的，折得也很马虎，大概就在阿格拉娅走到露台来前写的。公爵怀着近乎惊恐不安、难以形容的激动心情又把纸条紧紧握在手中，犹如受惊的小偷似的急忙从窗口灯光下跳开：但在这样做的时候突然跟就在他肩后的一位先生憧了个满怀。
“我一直跟在您后面，公爵，”这位先生说。
“是您，凯勒尔？”公爵惊呼道。
“我在找您，公爵。我曾在叶潘钦家的别墅旁等过您，当然，我无法进去。您跟将军一起走着的时候，我就在你们后面走着。公爵，我愿为您效劳，您就吩咐凯勒尔吧，我愿为您牺牲，如果需要的话，甚至愿意去死。”
“可是……这是为什么？”
“嘿，大概接着会有挑战。这个莫洛夫佐夫中尉，我了解，但我不认识他……他是不会容忍屈辱的。当然，他把我们弟兄，也就是我和罗戈任，倾向于看做废物，也许，这是理该如此，这样就只有您一个人对付他了，公爵，您不得不付这笔账了。我听说他在打听您，大概明天他的朋友就会去找您，也许，现在就已经在等您了。如果您赏脸选我做决斗的助手，为您即使贬为士兵我也愿意；为此我才找您，公爵。”
“原来您说的也是决斗！”公爵忽然哈哈笑了起来，使凯勒尔异常惊讶。他是十分厉害。凯勒尔本来确实几乎如坐针毡不得安生，直到提出自己当决斗助手的建议之后，才感到心满意足，现在看到公爵笑得这么开心，几乎感到受了委屈。
“可是，公爵，您刚才抓住了人家的子，一个有身份的人在大庭广众下是难以容忍这一点的。”
“可是他当胸推了我一下。”公爵笑着嚷道，“我们没有什么好争的！我将请他原谅，事情也就完了，如果要交手，那就交手吧：就让他开熗好了，我甚至希望这样。哈！哈！我现在会给个熗装弹药了！凯勒尔，您会给手熗上弹药吗？先应该买火药，手熗用的，不能湿的，也不是打炮时用的粗的那种；然后先是放火药，从门上什么地方扯一块毡，接下来把子弹装进去，不能在装火药前就放子弹，否则就会打不响。听着，凯勒尔，否则就会打不响的。哈－哈！难道这不是绝好的机会，凯勒尔朋友、啊，凯勒尔，知道吗，我现在要拥抱您，吻您，哈－哈－哈！您刚才怎么突然出现在我面前的？赶快到我那儿去喝香槟。我们一起喝个一醉方休！您知道吗，我有十二瓶香槟酒，在列别杰夫的地窖里？前天列别杰夫‘碰巧’卖给我，第二天我搬到他那儿去住，我就全部买下了！我要把所有的伙伴都召集来：怎么样，今夜您要睡觉吗？”
“跟任何一夜一样，公爵。”
“好吧，那就祝您睡个安稳觉！哈－哈！”
公爵穿过街道，消失在公园里，留下了有点不知所措、耽于沉思中的凯勒尔。他还没有见过公爵有这样奇怪的情绪，甚至到现在他也无法想像这一点。
“也许是狂热，因为他是个神经质的人，加上所有这一切的影响，当然他是不会胆怯的。这种人就是不怕，真的！”凯勒尔暗自思忖着，“嗯，香槟这倒是个挺有趣的消息。有十二瓶，一打；不错，相应于一支挺像样的卫兵分队。我敢打赌，一定是列别杰夫从谁那作为抵押而得到这批香槟的。嗯……不过这个公爵是挺可爱的；确实，我喜欢这样的人：但是没什么好错过时机的……既然有香槟，现在正是时候……”
说公爵一时狂热，当然，这是说对了。
他在幽暗的公园里徘徊了很久，最后“发现自己”老在一条林荫道上转悠，在他的意识里存留着这样的印象：他已经走过这条林荫道了，从长椅到一棵又高又显眼的老树，总共百来步，他已经来回走了三四十趟了。在这至少整整１个小时的时间里，他在公园里想了些什么，他竟怎么也想不起来，甚至即使是想回忆也未有所获，不过，他还是捕捉到了一个念头，因此而突然笑得前仰后合；虽然没什么好笑的，但他老是想笑。他想，关于决斗的设想，可能不只是在凯勒尔一个人的头脑里产生，因此，给手熗装弹药的事也许并非偶然……“哦，”他恍然想起另一个想法而突然站住了，“刚才他坐在角里时，她走到露台上来，发现我坐在那里，惊讶万分，而且--还那样笑……还问要不要喝茶；可是这时这张字条已经在她手里了，因此，她一定知道我坐在露台上，那么她又为什么感到惊讶呢？哈－哈－哈。”
他从口袋里掏出字条，吻了一下，但马上又停下来，沉思起来。
“这多么奇怪！这多么奇怪！”过了片刻他甚至有点忧郁地说。在感到强烈兴奋的时候他总会变得忧郁起来，他自己也不知道为什么。他凝神环顾四周，为走到这里来而惊讶。他很疲劳，走近条椅坐下。周围异常寂静。车站上音乐会已经结束。公园里大概已经没有别的人了；当然，至少已有１１点半。夜是宁静、温暖、明亮的，６月初的彼得堡之夜就是这样的，但是在绿荫茂密的花园里，在他所处的林荫道上，却几乎已经全黑了。
假如此刻有谁对他说，他在恋爱，而且，爱得很热烈，那么他会惊诧地否定这种想法，甚至会感到气忿。假如有人再补充说，阿格拉娅的字条是情书书，是约恋人幽会，那么他会为那个人羞愧得无地自容，也许还会向提出决斗。这一切完全是真诚的，他一次也没有怀疑过，也不容许有丝毫模棱两可的念头--认为这姑娘有可能爱他，或者甚至是自己有可能爱她。爱他，可能“爱像他这么一个人’！他认为是件咄咄怪事。他隐约觉得，如果确实有什么名堂的话，这不过是她这方面的儿戏；但是他对这种儿戏似乎大无动于衷，认为它太平常；他自己要操心和关心的完全是别的事。对于刚才将军激动之中脱口而出的话，即她嘲笑大家，尤其嘲笑他公爵，他是完全相信的。在这种情况下他丝毫也不感到受了屈辱；在他看来，事情就该是这样的。对于他来说主要的是明天他又将见到她，一清早就将与她并排坐在绿色长椅上，将听她讲怎么给手熗上弹药，将望着她。别的他什么都不需要，她究竟打算对他讲什么，这件直接关系到他的重要事究竟是件什么事，有一两回在他的头脑里也曾闪过这样的问题。此外，阿格拉娅约他来谈“重要事’，他片刻也不怀疑确实有那回事。但是现在他几乎根本不去想这件重要的事，甚至丝毫感觉不到要想这件事的欲望。
林荫道沙地上轻轻发出的嚓嚓脚步声使得他抬起头来。黑暗中很难辨认来者的脸。这个人走到长椅前，在他旁边坐下。公爵迅即移近他，几乎紧挨着他，这才看出了是罗戈任苍白的脸。
“我就知道，你是在这里什么地方游荡，没用多久就找到了，”罗戈任从牙缝里挤出这两句话低声说道。
在旅客走廊里相遇之后他们是第一次见面。罗戈任的突然出现使公爵大力惊诧，有一段时间他都无法集中思想，痛苦的感觉又在他的心间复苏。看来，罗戈任明白他给对方造成的印象；虽然开始他曾有点不知所措，说话似乎故作随便的样子，但公爵很快就觉得，罗戈任没有丝毫做作，甚至也没有丝毫特别的困窘；如果在他的手势和话语里曾有过某种不自然，那也仅仅是外表的；在内心这个人是不可能改变的。
“你怎么……会在这儿找到我的？”公爵为了开始说话而问道。
“从凯勒尔那儿听说（我上你那儿去过），‘到公园去了’不是我想，事情果然是这样。”
“什么事情？”公爵不安地抓住罗戈任冒出来的话问。
罗戈任冷冷一笑，但不做解释。
“我收到了你的信，列夫·尼古拉那维奇；你这一切全是徒劳……何苦呢？……现在我是从她那儿来找你的：她嘱咐一定要把你叫去，有什么话非常必要告诉你。她要你今天就去。”
“我明天去。我马上回家去：你……到我那儿去吗。”
“干什么？我把所有的话都对你说了；再见。”
“难道您不顺便去一下？”公爵轻轻问他。
“你这人真怪，列夫·尼古拉那维奇，真让人对你感到惊讶。”
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 32楼  发表于: 2014-01-18 0

Part 3 Chapter 4
THE prince observed with great surprise, as he approached his villa, accompanied by Rogojin, that a large number of people were assembled on his verandah, which was brilliantly lighted up. The company seemed merry and were noisily laughing and talking--even quarrelling, to judge from the sounds. At all events they were clearly enjoying themselves, and the prince observed further on closer investigation--that all had been drinking champagne. To judge from the lively condition of some of the party, it was to be supposed that a considerable quantity of champagne had been consumed already.
All the guests were known to the prince; but the curious part of the matter was that they had all arrived on the same evening, as though with one accord, although he had only himself recollected the fact that it was his birthday a few moments since.
"You must have told somebody you were going to trot out the champagne, and that's why they are all come!" muttered Rogojin, as the two entered the verandah. "We know all about that! You've only to whistle and they come up in shoals!" he continued, almost angrily. He was doubtless thinking of his own late experiences with his boon companions.
All surrounded the prince with exclamations of welcome, and, on hearing that it was his birthday, with cries of congratulation and delight; many of them were very noisy.
The presence of certain of those in the room surprised the prince vastly, but the guest whose advent filled him with the greatest wonder--almost amounting to alarm--was Evgenie Pavlovitch. The prince could not believe his eyes when he beheld the latter, and could not help thinking that something was wrong.
Lebedeff ran up promptly to explain the arrival of all these gentlemen. He was himself somewhat intoxicated, but the prince gathered from his long-winded periods that the party had assembled quite naturally, and accidentally.
First of all Hippolyte had arrived, early in the evening, and feeling decidedly better, had determined to await the prince on the verandah. There Lebedeff had joined him, and his household had followed--that is, his daughters and General Ivolgin. Burdovsky had brought Hippolyte, and stayed on with him. Gania and Ptitsin had dropped in accidentally later on; then came Keller, and he and Colia insisted on having champagne. Evgenie Pavlovitch had only dropped in half an hour or so ago. Lebedeff had served the champagne readily.
"My own though, prince, my own, mind," he said, "and there'll be some supper later on; my daughter is getting it ready now. Come and sit down, prince, we are all waiting for you, we want you with us. Fancy what we have been discussing! You know the question, 'to be or not to be,'--out of Hamlet! A contemporary theme! Quite up-to-date! Mr. Hippolyte has been eloquent to a degree. He won't go to bed, but he has only drunk a little champagne, and that can't do him any harm. Come along, prince, and settle the question. Everyone is waiting for you, sighing for the light of your luminous intelligence..."
The prince noticed the sweet, welcoming look on Vera Lebedeff's face, as she made her way towards him through the crowd. He held out his hand to her. She took it, blushing with delight, and wished him "a happy life from that day forward." Then she ran off to the kitchen, where. her presence was necessary to help in the preparations for supper. Before the prince's arrival she had spent some time on the terrace, listening eagerly to the conversation, though the visitors, mostly under the influence of wine, were discussing abstract subjects far beyond her comprehension. In the next room her younger sister lay on a wooden chest, sound asleep, with her mouth wide open; but the boy, Lebedeff's son, had taken up his position close beside Colia and Hippolyte, his face lit up with interest in the conversation of his father and the rest, to which he would willingly have listened for ten hours at a stretch.
"I have waited for you on purpose, and am very glad to see you arrive so happy," said Hippolyte, when the prince came forward to press his hand, immediately after greeting Vera.
"And how do you know that I am 'so happy'?
"I can see it by your face! Say 'how do you do' to the others, and come and sit down here, quick--I've been waiting for you!" he added, accentuating the fact that he had waited. On the prince's asking, "Will it not be injurious to you to sit out so late?" he replied that he could not believe that he had thought himself dying three days or so ago, for he never had felt better than this evening.
Burdovsky next jumped up and explained that he had come in by accident, having escorted Hippolyte from town. He murmured that he was glad he had "written nonsense" in his letter, and then pressed the prince's hand warmly and sat down again.
The prince approached Evgenie Pavlovitch last of all. The latter immediately took his arm.
"I have a couple of words to say to you," he began, "and those on a very important matter; let's go aside for a minute or two."
"Just a couple of words!" whispered another voice in the prince's other ear, and another hand took his other arm. Muishkin turned, and to his great surprise observed a red, flushed face and a droll-looking figure which he recognized at once as that of Ferdishenko. Goodness knows where he had turned up from!
"Do you remember Ferdishenko?" he asked.
"Where have you dropped from?" cried the prince.
"He is sorry for his sins now, prince," cried Keller. "He did not want to let you know he was here; he was hidden over there in the corner,--but he repents now, he feels his guilt."
"Why, what has he done?"
"I met him outside and brought him in--he's a gentleman who doesn't often allow his friends to see him, of late--but he's sorry now."
"Delighted, I'm sure!--I'll come back directly, gentlemen,--sit down there with the others, please,--excuse me one moment," said the host, getting away with difficulty in order to follow Evgenie.
"You are very gay here," began the latter, "and I have had quite a pleasant half-hour while I waited for you. Now then, my dear Lef Nicolaievitch, this is what's the matter. I've arranged it all with Moloftsoff, and have just come in to relieve your mind on that score. You need be under no apprehensions. He was very sensible, as he should be, of course, for I think he was entirely to blame himself."
"What Moloftsoff?"
"The young fellow whose arms you held, don't you know? He was so wild with you that he was going to send a friend to you tomorrow morning."
"What nonsense!"
"Of course it is nonsense, and in nonsense it would have ended, doubtless; but you know these fellows, they--"
"Excuse me, but I think you must have something else that you wished to speak about, Evgenie Pavlovitch?"
"Of course, I have!" said the other, laughing. "You see, my dear fellow, tomorrow, very early in the morning, I must be off to town about this unfortunate business(my uncle, you know!). Just imagine, my dear sir, it is all true--word for word--and, of course, everybody knew it excepting myself. All this has been such a blow to me that I have not managed to call in at the Epanchins'. Tomorrow I shall not see them either, because I shall be in town. I may not be here for three days or more; in a word, my affairs are a little out of gear. But though my town business is, of course, most pressing, still I determined not to go away until I had seen you, and had a clear understanding with you upon certain points; and that without loss of time. I will wait now, if you will allow me, until the company departs; I may just as well, for I have nowhere else to go to, and I shall certainly not do any sleeping tonight; I'm far too excited. And finally, I must confess that, though I know it is bad form to pursue a man in this way, I have come to beg your friendship, my dear prince. You are an unusual sort of a person; you don't lie at every step, as some men do; in fact, you don't lie at all, and there is a matter in which I need a true and sincere friend, for I really may claim to be among the number of bona fide unfortunates just now."
He laughed again.
"But the trouble is," said the prince, after a slight pause for reflection, "that goodness only knows when this party will break up. Hadn't we better stroll into the park? I'll excuse myself, there's no danger of their going away."
"No, no! I have my reasons for wishing them not to suspect us of being engaged in any specially important conversation. There are gentry present who are a little too much interested in us. You are not aware of that perhaps, prince? It will be a great deal better if they see that we are friendly just in an ordinary way. They'll all go in a couple of hours, and then I'll ask you to give me twenty minutes-half an hour at most."
"By all means! I assure you I am delighted--you need not have entered into all these explanations. As for your remarks about friendship with me--thanks, very much indeed. You must excuse my being a little absent this evening. Do you know, I cannot somehow be attentive to anything just now?"
"I see, I see," said Evgenie, smiling gently. His mirth seemed very near the surface this evening.
"What do you see?" said the prince, startled.
"I don't want you to suspect that I have simply come here to deceive you and pump information out of you!" said Evgenie, still smiling, and without making any direct reply to the question.
"Oh, but I haven't the slightest doubt that you did come to pump me," said the prince, laughing himself, at last; "and I dare say you are quite prepared to deceive me too, so far as that goes. But what of that? I'm not afraid of you; besides, you'll hardly believe it, I feel as though I really didn't care a scrap one way or the other, just now!--And-and-and as you are a capital fellow, I am convinced of that, I dare say we really shall end by being good friends. I like you very much Evgenie Pavlovitch; I consider you a very good fellow indeed."
"Well, in any case, you are a most delightful man to have to deal with, be the business what it may," concluded Evgenie. "Come along now, I'll drink a glass to your health. I'm charmed to have entered into alliance with you. By-the-by," he added suddenly, has this young Hippolyte come down to stay with you
"Yes."
"He's not going to die at once, I should think, is he?"
"Why?"
"Oh, I don't know. I've been half an hour here with him, and he--"
Hippolyte had been waiting for the prince all this time, and had never ceased looking at him and Evgenie Pavlovitch as they conversed in the corner. He became much excited when they approached the table once more. He was disturbed in his mind, it seemed; perspiration stood in large drops on his forehead; in his gleaming eyes it was easy to read impatience and agitation; his gaze wandered from face to face of those present, and from object to object in the room, apparently without aim. He had taken a part, and an animated one, in the noisy conversation of the company; but his animation was clearly the outcome of fever. His talk was almost incoherent; he would break off in the middle of a sentence which he had begun with great interest, and forget what he had been saying. The prince discovered to his dismay that Hippolyte had been allowed to drink two large glasses of champagne; the one now standing by him being the third. All this he found out afterwards; at the moment he did not notice anything, very particularly.
"Do you know I am specially glad that today is your birthday!" cried Hippolyte.
"Why?"
"You'll soon see. D'you know I had a feeling that there would be a lot of people here tonight? It's not the first time that my presentiments have been fulfilled. I wish I had known it was your birthday, I'd have brought you a present--perhaps I have got a present for you! Who knows? Ha, ha! How long is it now before daylight?"
"Not a couple of hours," said Ptitsin, looking at his watch. What's the good of daylight now? One can read all night in the open air without it," said someone.
"The good of it! Well, I want just to see a ray of the sun," said Hippolyte. Can one drink to the sun's health, do you think, prince?"
"Oh, I dare say one can; but you had better be calm and lie down, Hippolyte--that's much more important.
"You are always preaching about resting; you are a regular nurse to me, prince. As soon as the sun begins to 'resound' in the sky --what poet said that? 'The sun resounded in the sky.' It is beautiful, though there's no sense in it!--then we will go to bed. Lebedeff, tell me, is the sun the source of life? What does the source, or 'spring,' of life really mean in the Apocalypse? You have heard of the 'Star that is called Wormwood,' prince?"
"I have heard that Lebedeff explains it as the railroads that cover Europe like a net."
Everybody laughed, and Lebedeff got up abruptly.
"No! Allow me, that is not what we are discussing!" he cried, waving his hand to impose silence. "Allow me! With these gentlemen ... all these gentlemen," he added, suddenly addressing the prince, "on certain points ... that is ..." He thumped the table repeatedly, and the laughter increased. Lebedeff was in his usual evening condition, and had just ended a long and scientific argument, which had left him excited and irritable. On such occasions he was apt to evince a supreme contempt for his opponents.
"It is not right! Half an hour ago, prince, it was agreed among us that no one should interrupt, no one should laugh, that each person was to express his thoughts freely; and then at the end, when everyone had spoken, objections might be made, even by the atheists. We chose the general as president. Now without some such rule and order, anyone might be shouted down, even in the loftiest and most profound thought. . . ."
"Go on! Go on! Nobody is going to interrupt you!" cried several voices.
"Speak, but keep to the point!"
"What is this 'star'?" asked another.
I have no idea," replied General Ivolgin, who presided with much gravity.
"I love these arguments, prince," said Keller, also more than half intoxicated, moving restlessly in his chair. "Scientific and political." Then, turning suddenly towards Evgenie Pavlovitch, who was seated near him: "Do you know, I simply adore reading the accounts of the debates in the English parliament. Not that the discussions themselves interest me; I am not a politician, you know; but it delights me to see how they address each other 'the noble lord who agrees with me,' 'my honourable opponent who astonished Europe with his proposal,' 'the noble viscount sitting opposite'--all these expressions, all this parliamentarism of a free people, has an enormous attraction for me. It fascinates me, prince. I have always been an artist in the depths of my soul, I assure you, Evgenie Pavlovitch."
"Do you mean to say," cried Gania, from the other corner, "do you mean to say that railways are accursed inventions, that they are a source of ruin to humanity, a poison poured upon the earth to corrupt the springs of life?"
Gavrila Ardalionovitch was in high spirits that evening, and it seemed to the prince that his gaiety was mingled with triumph. Of course he was only joking with Lebedeff, meaning to egg him on, but he grew excited himself at the same time.
"Not the railways, oh dear, no!" replied Lebedeff, with a mixture of violent anger and extreme enjoyment. "Considered alone, the railways will not pollute the springs of life, but as a whole they are accursed. The whole tendency of our latest centuries, in its scientific and materialistic aspect, is most probably accursed."
"Is it certainly accursed? ... or do you only mean it might be? That is an important point," said Evgenie Pavlovitch.
"It is accursed, certainly accursed!" replied the clerk, vehemently.
"Don't go so fast, Lebedeff; you are much milder in the morning," said Ptitsin, smiling.
"But, on the other hand, more frank in the evening! In the evening sincere and frank," repeated Lebedeff, earnestly. "More candid, more exact, more honest, more honourable, and ... although I may show you my weak side, I challenge you all; you atheists, for instance! How are you going to save the world? How find a straight road of progress, you men of science, of industry, of cooperation, of trades unions, and all the rest? How are you going to save it, I say? By what? By credit? What is credit? To what will credit lead you?"
"You are too inquisitive," remarked Evgenie Pavlovitch.
"Well, anyone who does not interest himself in questions such as this is, in my opinion, a mere fashionable dummy."
"But it will lead at least to solidarity, and balance of interests," said Ptitsin.
"You will reach that with nothing to help you but credit? Without recourse to any moral principle, having for your foundation only individual selfishness, and the satisfaction of material desires? Universal peace, and the happiness of mankind as a whole, being the result! Is it really so that I may understand you, sir?"
"But the universal necessity of living, of drinking, of eating-- in short, the whole scientific conviction that this necessity can only be satisfied by universal co-operation and the solidarity of interests--is, it seems to me, a strong enough idea to serve as a basis, so to speak, and a 'spring of life,' for humanity in future centuries," said Gavrila Ardalionovitch, now thoroughly roused.
"The necessity of eating and drinking, that is to say, solely the instinct of self-preservation..."
"Is not that enough? The instinct of self-preservation is the normal law of humanity..."
"Who told you that?" broke in Evgenie Pavlovitch.
"It is a law, doubtless, but a law neither more nor less normal than that of destruction, even self-destruction. Is it possible that the whole normal law of humanity is contained in this sentiment of self-preservation?"
"Ah!" cried Hippolyte, turning towards Evgenie Pavlovitch, and looking at him with a queer sort of curiosity.
Then seeing that Radomski was laughing, he began to laugh himself, nudged Colia, who was sitting beside him, with his elbow, and again asked what time it was. He even pulled Colia's silver watch out of his hand, and looked at it eagerly. Then, as if he had forgotten everything, he stretched himself out on the sofa, put his hands behind his head, and looked up at the sky. After a minute or two he got up and came back to the table to listen to Lebedeff's outpourings, as the latter passionately commentated on Evgenie Pavlovitch's paradox.
"That is an artful and traitorous idea. A smart notion," vociferated the clerk, "thrown out as an apple of discord. But it is just. You are a scoffer, a man of the world, a cavalry officer, and, though not without brains, you do not realize how profound is your thought, nor how true. Yes, the laws of self- preservation and of self-destruction are equally powerful in this world. The devil will hold his empire over humanity until a limit of time which is still unknown. You laugh? You do not believe in the devil? Scepticism as to the devil is a French idea, and it is also a frivolous idea. Do you know who the devil is? Do you know his name? Although you don't know his name you make a mockery of his form, following the example of Voltaire. You sneer at his hoofs, at his tail, at his horns--all of them the produce of your imagination! In reality the devil is a great and terrible spirit, with neither hoofs, nor tail, nor horns; it is you who have endowed him with these attributes! But ... he is not the question just now!"
"How do you know he is not the question now?" cried Hippolyte, laughing hysterically.
"Another excellent idea, and worth considering!" replied Lebedeff. "But, again, that is not the question. The question at this moment is whether we have not weakened 'the springs of life' by the extension ..."
"Of railways?" put in Colia eagerly.
"Not railways, properly speaking, presumptuous youth, but the general tendency of which railways may be considered as the outward expression and symbol. We hurry and push and hustle, for the good of humanity! 'The world is becoming too noisy, too commercial!' groans some solitary thinker. 'Undoubtedly it is, but the noise of waggons bearing bread to starving humanity is of more value than tranquillity of soul,' replies another triumphantly, and passes on with an air of pride. As for me, I don't believe in these waggons bringing bread to humanity. For, founded on no moral principle, these may well, even in the act of carrying bread to humanity, coldly exclude a considerable portion of humanity from enjoying it; that has been seen more than once.
"What, these waggons may coldly exclude?" repeated someone.
"That has been seen already," continued Lebedeff, not deigning to notice the interruption. "Malthus was a friend of humanity, but, with ill-founded moral principles, the friend of humanity is the devourer of humanity, without mentioning his pride; for, touch the vanity of one of these numberless philanthropists, and to avenge his self-esteem, he will be ready at once to set fire to the whole globe; and to tell the truth, we are all more or less like that. I, perhaps, might be the first to set a light to the fuel, and then run away. But, again, I must repeat, that is not the question."
"What is it then, for goodness' sake?"
"He is boring us!"
"The question is connected with the following anecdote of past times; for I am obliged to relate a story. In our times, and in our country, which I hope you love as much as I do, for as far as I am concerned, I am ready to shed the last drop of my blood...
"Go on! Go on!"
"In our dear country, as indeed in the whole of Europe, a famine visits humanity about four times a century, as far as I can remember; once in every twenty-five years. I won't swear to this being the exact figure, but anyhow they have become comparatively rare."
"Comparatively to what?"
"To the twelfth century, and those immediately preceding and following it. We are told by historians that widespread famines occurred in those days every two or three years, and such was the condition of things that men actually had recourse to cannibalism, in secret, of course. One of these cannibals, who had reached a good age, declared of his own free will that during the course of his long and miserable life he had personally killed and eaten, in the most profound secrecy, sixty monks, not to mention several children; the number of the latter he thought was about six, an insignificant total when compared with the enormous mass of ecclesiastics consumed by him. As to adults, laymen that is to say, he had never touched them."
The president joined in the general outcry.
"That's impossible!" said he in an aggrieved tone. "I am often discussing subjects of this nature with him, gentlemen, but for the most part he talks nonsense enough to make one deaf: this story has no pretence of being true."
"General, remember the siege of Kars! And you, gentlemen, I assure you my anecdote is the naked truth. I may remark that reality, although it is governed by invariable law, has at times a resemblance to falsehood. In fact, the truer a thing is the less true it sounds."
"But could anyone possibly eat sixty monks?" objected the scoffing listeners.
"It is quite clear that he did not eat them all at once, but in a space of fifteen or twenty years: from that point of view the thing is comprehensible and natural..."
"Natural?"
"And natural," repeated Lebedeff with pedantic obstinacy. "Besides, a Catholic monk is by nature excessively curious; it would be quite easy therefore to entice him into a wood, or some secret place, on false pretences, and there to deal with him as said. But I do not dispute in the least that the number of persons consumed appears to denote a spice of greediness."
"It is perhaps true, gentlemen," said the prince, quietly. He had been listening in silence up to that moment without taking part in the conversation, but laughing heartily with the others from time to time. Evidently he was delighted to see that everybody was amused, that everybody was talking at once, and even that everybody was drinking. It seemed as if he were not intending to speak at all, when suddenly he intervened in such a serious voice that everyone looked at him with interest.
"It is true that there were frequent famines at that time, gentlemen. I have often heard of them, though I do not know much history. But it seems to me that it must have been so. When I was in Switzerland I used to look with astonishment at the many ruins of feudal castles perched on the top of steep and rocky heights, half a mile at least above sea-level, so that to reach them one had to climb many miles of stony tracks. A castle, as you know, is, a kind of mountain of stones--a dreadful, almost an impossible, labour! Doubtless the builders were all poor men, vassals, and had to pay heavy taxes, and to keep up the priesthood. How, then, could they provide for themselves, and when had they time to plough and sow their fields? The greater number must, literally, have died of starvation. I have sometimes asked myself how it was that these communities were not utterly swept off the face of the earth, and how they could possibly survive. Lebedeff is not mistaken, in my opinion, when he says that there were cannibals in those days, perhaps in considerable numbers; but I do not understand why he should have dragged in the monks, nor what he means by that."
"It is undoubtedly because, in the twelfth century, monks were the only people one could eat; they were the fat, among many lean," said Gavrila Ardalionovitch.
"A brilliant idea, and most true!" cried Lebedeff, "for he never even touched the laity. Sixty monks, and not a single layman! It is a terrible idea, but it is historic, it is statistic; it is indeed one of those facts which enables an intelligent historian to reconstruct the physiognomy of a special epoch, for it brings out this further point with mathematical accuracy, that the clergy were in those days sixty times richer and more flourishing than the rest of humanity. and perhaps sixty times fatter also..."
"You are exaggerating, you are exaggerating, Lebedeff!" cried his hearers, amid laughter.
"I admit that it is an historic thought, but what is your conclusion?" asked the prince.
He spoke so seriously in addressing Lebedeff, that his tone contrasted quite comically with that of the others. They were very nearly laughing at him, too, but he did not notice it.
"Don't you see he is a lunatic, prince?" whispered Evgenie Pavlovitch in his ear. "Someone told me just now that he is a bit touched on the subject of lawyers, that he has a mania for making speeches and intends to pass the examinations. I am expecting a splendid burlesque now."
"My conclusion is vast," replied Lebedeff, in a voice like thunder. "Let us examine first the psychological and legal position of the criminal. We see that in spite of the difficulty of finding other food, the accused, or, as we may say, my client, has often during his peculiar life exhibited signs of repentance, and of wishing to give up this clerical diet. Incontrovertible facts prove this assertion. He has eaten five or six children, a relatively insignificant number, no doubt, but remarkable enough from another point of view. It is manifest that, pricked by remorse--for my client is religious, in his way, and has a conscience, as I shall prove later--and desiring to extenuate his sin as far as possible, he has tried six times at least to substitute lay nourishment for clerical. That this was merely an experiment we can hardly doubt: for if it had been only a question of gastronomic variety, six would have been too few; why only six? Why not thirty? But if we regard it as an experiment, inspired by the fear of committing new sacrilege, then this number six becomes intelligible. Six attempts to calm his remorse, and the pricking of his conscience, would amply suffice, for these attempts could scarcely have been happy ones. In my humble opinion, a child is too small; I should say, not sufficient; which would result in four or five times more lay children than monks being required in a given time. The sin, lessened on the one hand, would therefore be increased on the other, in quantity, not in quality. Please understand, gentlemen, that in reasoning thus, I am taking the point of view which might have been taken by a criminal of the middle ages. As for myself, a man of the late nineteenth century, I, of course, should reason differently; I say so plainly, and therefore you need not jeer at me nor mock me, gentlemen. As for you, general, it is still more unbecoming on your part. In the second place, and giving my own personal opinion, a child's flesh is not a satisfying diet; it is too insipid, too sweet; and the criminal, in making these experiments, could have satisfied neither his conscience nor his appetite. I am about to conclude, gentlemen; and my conclusion contains a reply to one of the most important questions of that day and of our own! This criminal ended at last by denouncing himself to the clergy, and giving himself up to justice. We cannot but ask, remembering the penal system of that day, and the tortures that awaited him--the wheel, the stake, the fire!--we cannot but ask, I repeat, what induced him to accuse himself of this crime? Why did he not simply stop short at the number sixty, and keep his secret until his last breath? Why could he not simply leave the monks alone, and go into the desert to repent? Or why not become a monk himself? That is where the puzzle comes in! There must have been something stronger than the stake or the fire, or even than the habits of twenty years! There must have been an idea more powerful than all the calamities and sorrows of this world, famine or torture, leprosy or plague--an idea which entered into the heart, directed and enlarged the springs of life, and made even that hell supportable to humanity! Show me a force, a power like that, in this our century of vices and railways! I might say, perhaps, in our century of steamboats and railways, but I repeat in our century of vices and railways, because I am drunk but truthful! Show me a single idea which unites men nowadays with half the strength that it had in those centuries, and dare to maintain that the 'springs of life' have not been polluted and weakened beneath this 'star,' beneath this network in which men are entangled! Don't talk to me about your prosperity, your riches, the rarity of famine, the rapidity of the means of transport! There is more of riches, but less of force. The idea uniting heart and soul to heart and soul exists no more. All is loose, soft, limp--we are all of us limp.... Enough, gentlemen! I have done. That is not the question. No, the question is now, excellency, I believe, to sit down to the banquet you are about to provide for us!"
Lebedeff had roused great indignation in some of his auditors (it should be remarked that the bottles were constantly uncorked during his speech); but this unexpected conclusion calmed even the most turbulent spirits. "That's how a clever barrister makes a good point!" said he, when speaking of his peroration later on. The visitors began to laugh and chatter once again; the committee left their seats, and stretched their legs on the terrace. Keller alone was still disgusted with Lebedeff and his speech; he turned from one to another, saying in a loud voice:
"He attacks education, he boasts of the fanaticism of the twelfth century, he makes absurd grimaces, and added to that he is by no means the innocent he makes himself out to be. How did he get the money to buy this house, allow me to ask?"
In another corner was the general, holding forth to a group of hearers, among them Ptitsin, whom he had buttonholed. "I have known," said he, "a real interpreter of the Apocalypse, the late Gregory Semeonovitch Burmistroff, and he--he pierced the heart like a fiery flash! He began by putting on his spectacles, then he opened a large black book; his white beard, and his two medals on his breast, recalling acts of charity, all added to his impressiveness. He began in a stern voice, and before him generals, hard men of the world, bowed down, and ladies fell to the ground fainting. But this one here--he ends by announcing a banquet! That is not the real thing!"
Ptitsin listened and smiled, then turned as if to get his hat; but if he had intended to leave, he changed his mind. Before the others had risen from the table, Gania had suddenly left off drinking, and pushed away his glass, a dark shadow seemed to come over his face. When they all rose, he went and sat down by Rogojin. It might have been believed that quite friendly relations existed between them. Rogojin, who had also seemed on the point of going away now sat motionless, his head bent, seeming to have forgotten his intention. He had drunk no wine, and appeared absorbed in reflection. From time to time he raised his eyes, and examined everyone present; one might have imagined that he was expecting something very important to himself, and that he had decided to wait for it. The prince had taken two or three glasses of champagne, and seemed cheerful. As he rose he noticed Evgenie Pavlovitch, and, remembering the appointment he had made with him, smiled pleasantly. Evgenie Pavlovitch made a sign with his head towards Hippolyte, whom he was attentively watching. The invalid was fast asleep, stretched out on the sofa.
"Tell me, prince, why on earth did this boy intrude himself upon you?" he asked, with such annoyance and irritation in his voice that the prince was quite surprised. "I wouldn't mind laying odds that he is up to some mischief."
"I have observed," said the prince, "that he seems to be an object of very singular interest to you, Evgenie Pavlovitch. Why is it?"
"You may add that I have surely enough to think of, on my own account, without him; and therefore it is all the more surprising that I cannot tear my eyes and thoughts away from his detestable physiognomy."
"Oh, come! He has a handsome face."
"Why, look at him--look at him now!"
The prince glanced again at Evgenie Pavlovitch with considerable surprise.

当公爵与罗戈任走近自己的别墅时，他异常惊讶地发现，在他的露台灯火通明，人声喧哗，聚集着许多人。大伙儿兴高采烈，哈哈大笑，高声讲话；好像还争执得近乎喊叫；一眼便能觉察到正是欢度时光的兴头上。等登上露台以后，他确实看见，大家都在开怀畅饮，在喝香槟，好像已经喝相当久了，因而许多人精神颇为振奋，情绪非常活跃。客人们全是公爵的熟人，但奇怪的是，他们就像受邀请似的，一下子就都聚集在这里了，虽然公爵没有邀请任可人，对于自己的生日他自己也是无意间才想起的。
“大概，你宣布过要拿香槟出来，所以他们就都跑来了，”罗戈任嘀咕着说，跟在公爵后面走上了露台，“我们知道这一点；对他们只要打个唿哨……”他几乎是恶狠狠地补充说，当然是回忆起自己不久前的过去。
大家呼喊着迎接他，向他表示祝愿，包围着他。有的人十分喧闹，有人却安宁得多，但是当听说是公爵的生日后，大家都急忙走近前来，每个人都等着轮到自己向他表示祝贺。（有些人在场使公爵颇为注意，如布尔多夫基）但是最令人惊讶的是，在这一伙人中忽然冒出个叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，看见他也在，公爵几乎不相信自己，甚至差点吓了一跳。
这时，满脸通红，几乎是兴高采烈的列别杰夫跑到跟前来解释；他己醉得相当厉害。从他絮絮叨叨的话中知道，大家完全是自然而然地聚集在这的，甚至纯属巧合。傍晚前最先来的是伊波利特，他觉得自己比过去好多了，愿意在露台上等候公爵，他在沙发上安顿下来；后来列别杰夫走来陪他，接着是他的一家，即他的女儿们及伊沃尔京将军。布尔多夫斯基是陪伊波利特一起来的，加尼亚和普季岑好像是路过这里， 顺便来这里不久（他们的出现与车站上发生的事正好吻合）；后来凯勒尔来，宣布了公爵的生日并要求拿香槟来庆贺。叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇半个小时前才来，科利亚也竭力主张喝香槟和安排庆祝。列别杰夫乐意送上了酒。
“但是是我自己的酒，我自己的！”他对公爵嘟哝着说，“我用自己的钱为您祝贺，为您增光，还会有酒菜点心，我女儿正在忙着呢；但是，公爵，假如您知道他们在议论什么时兴的话题就好了。您记得哈姆雷特的话：‘活着还是不活。”这是现代的时髦话题，时髦活题！有问有答……连捷连季耶夫先生也极为兴奋……不想睡觉！而香槟酒他只喝了一口，喝了一口，不会伤身的……请过来，公爵，您来做决定吧！大家都等着您，大家都只是等着听您的妙主意……”
公爵发觉了维拉·列别杰娃投来的亲切温柔的目光，她也急忙从人堆挤到他这边来。他避开所有的人，向她第一个递过手去；她高兴得满脸飞红，祝愿他“从今天起终生幸福”。然后她飞快地奔去厨房；她在那里做菜；但在公爵来到前，只要有一会儿能脱身，她就来到露台上，竭办用心地听着醉醺醺的客人之间不停进行的热烈争论，他们听说的内容对她来说是极为抽象和新奇的。她的妹妹张大着嘴，在隔壁房间里一只大箱子上面睡着了，而列别杰夫的儿子站在科利亚和伊波利特的身边，光是脸上那神采弈弈的样子显示出，他就打算这么站在原地，聆听谈话并感到满足，即使一一连站上１０个小时也愿意。
公爵在接受维拉的祝贺以后，立即走到伊波利特跟前与他握手。“我特别等您，看到您这样幸福地回来，我高兴得不得了，”伊波利特说。
“您怎么知道我是‘这样幸福’的呢？”
“从脸上看得出来。您去跟先生们打招呼吧，然后快点坐到我们这儿来，我特别等您，”他又补了一句，意味深长地强调他在等他这一点。对于公爵提醒“这么晚还坐在这里是否有碍身体？”的话，他回答说，他自己也觉得惊奇，三天前怎么会想到死，而今天晚上他却感到身体从来也没有这样好过。
布尔多夫斯基跳起身，喃喃着说，他“就这么……”，他与伊波利特在一起“陪他”，并且也表示很高兴：还说他在信中“写了胡话”，而现在“只觉得很高兴……”他没说完话便紧紧握了握公爵的手，然后坐到椅子上。
在跟所有的人打了招呼以后，公爵才走到叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇面前。后者立即挽住了他的手臂。
“我有两句话要对您说，”他轻声低语说，“有非常重要的情况；我们走开一会儿。”
“我也有两句话，”另一个声音在公爵的另一只耳朵边悄悄说，而且另外一只手从另一边挽起公爵的手臂。公爵惊诧地发现了一个头发蓬乱得可怕、满脸绯红、挤眉弄眼、嬉皮笑脸的人，即刻他便认出这个人是费尔迪先科，天知道他是从哪儿冒出来的。
“还记得费尔迪先科吗。”他问。
“您从哪里冒出来的？”公爵大声说。
“他是表示悔过！”凯勒尔跑到跟前大声说，“他刚才躲着，不想出来见您。他躲在那边角落里，他表示悔过，公爵，他觉得自己有错。”
“错在什么地方？什么地方？”
“是我遇见他的，公爵，我刚才遇见他就把他带来了；这是我朋友中不可多得的一位；但是他现在表示悔过。”
“我很高兴，诸位；去吧，坐到大家那儿去，我马上就来，”公爵终于脱开身，急忙走到叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇这边来。
“您这里很有意思，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇指出，“我挺愉快地等了您半小时。是这么回事，最亲爱的列夫·尼古拉那维奇，我跟库尔梅舍夫全谈妥了；您没什么可担心的，他非常非常理智地对待这件事，何况，据我看，主要是他自己有错。”
“哪个库尔梅舍夫。”
“就是刚才您抓住他胳膊的那个……他曾经怒不可遏，已经打算明天派人来找您要求做出解释。”
“够了，多么荒唐！”
“当然是荒唐，而且大概会以荒唐而告终；但是我们这些人……”
“也许，您还有别的事才到这里来的吧，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇？”
“噢，当然还句别的事，”他笑着说，“亲爱的公爵，明天天一亮我就要为这不幸的事（喏，就是伯父的事）去彼得堡；您瞧，这一切是确实的，而除了我大家却都已知道了。这一切真使我震惊万分，因此我都不急于去那里（叶潘钦家）了；明天我也不在，因为在彼得堡，明白吗？也许，我将有三天不在这里，总之，我的事挺糟的。虽不是什么十分了不起的事，但是我认为，有些问题我需要跟您开诚布公地解释清楚，我不想放过时间，也就是想在离开前谈谈，如果您允许，我现在就坐这儿等一会，等大伙儿散去；再说我也没有别的地方可去：我非常激动，难以人睡，最后，尽管这样直接纠缠一个人是不像话的，不正当的，但我还是要直截了当地对您说：我是来寻求您的友谊的，我亲爱的公爵；您是个无比卓越的人，也就是是个从来不说假话的人，也许，根本就不会说假话，而我有一件事需要一位朋友，一位忠告者帮助出主意，因为我现在完全成了不幸的人……”
他又笑了起来。
“糟糕在什么地方，”公爵想了片刻说，“您想等到他们散去，可是天知道这要到什么时候。我们最好还是现在就到公园去；确实，他们在等着，我去道个歉。……”
“千万不要这样，我有自己的理由，免得人家怀疑我们有什么目的进行紧急谈话；这里有些人对我们的关系非常感兴趣，您不知道这一点吗，公爵？如果他们看到我们本来就有非常友好的关系，而不只是有急事才找您，那就好得多，明白吗？过两小时他们就会散去；我只占您２０分钟，顶多半小时……”
“欢迎您，请吧；就是不做解释我也十分高兴；而对您说的友好关系的话，我很感谢。请原谅，我今天有点心不在焉；您知道吗，此刻我怎么也无法集中注意力。”
“我看得出来，看得出来，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇微微笑着低声咕噜着。今天晚上他很可笑。
“你看出什么来了？”公爵力之一惊。
“亲爱的公爵，您难道没有怀疑，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇没有直接回答公爵的问题，依然微笑着说，“难道您不怀疑，我来只不过是蒙骗您，顺便从您这儿刺探点情况，啊？”
“您来是要探听什么，这一点是没有疑问的，”公爵终于笑了起来说，“甚至也怀疑到，也许，您还打走主意来稍微欺骗我一下。但是要知道，我并不怕您；何况现在我对一切都似乎感到无所谓，您相信吗？还有……还有……还因为我首先确信，您毕竟是个超尘拔俗的人，因而我们最终也许真的能成为朋友。我很喜欢您，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，您……据我看，是非常非常正派的人！”
“好吧，不论怎么样跟您打交道是很愉快的，无论是什么交道，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇最后说，“我们走吧，我要为您的健康干一杯；我能接近您感到十分满意。啊！”他突然停住步，说，“这位伊波利特先生是不是搬到您这儿来住了？”
“是的。”
“我想，他不会马上就死吧？”
“怎么啦？”
“没什么，就这么问问；我在这里与他呆了半小时……”
这一段时间里伊波利特一直等着公爵，就在他和叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇在一旁谈话的时候，伊波利特不时朝他们扫上一眼。当他们走近桌子的时候，他显得很振奋，甚至有些狂热。他心神不宁，非常激动；额头上渗出了汗水。从他那双闪亮的眼睛里，除了流露出一种经常徘徊心间的不安，还显示出某种捉摸不定的急不可耐；他的目光无目的他从一样东西移到另一样东西，从一张脸移到另一张脸。虽然在此以前他积极参加了大家的热列谈话，但是他的振奋只是狂热的冲动；其实对于谈话本身他并不全身心投入；他的争辩是下连贯的、嘲弄人的，随便得离奇；一分钟前他自己慷慨激昂地开始谈论的话，不等说完他就弃之脑后了。公爵惊讶而又怜惜地了解到，这个晚上他在无人阻拦的情况下已经喝了满满两大杯香槟、现在放在他面前开始喝的已经是第三杯了。但公爵只是后来才知道这一点；此刻他不太注意这些。
“知道吗，今天正好是您的生日，我高兴得不得了！”伊波利特嚷道。
“为什么？”
“您会明白的；快坐下；第一，是因为聚集在这里的是您的全体……人马。我就估计到会有人来的；这是我一生中第一次估计对了！遗憾的是，我不知道是您生日，不然我会带礼物来的……哈－哈！对了，也许，我已经带礼物来了！到天亮还有多少时间？”
“到天亮不到二小时了，”普季芩看了一下表，说。
“何必现在要等黎明呢？现在外面也亮得可以看书，”有人指出。
“因为我需要看到太阳的一条边儿。可以为太阳的健康喝一杯吗，公爵，您认为怎样？”
伊波利特毫不客气地转向大家生硬地问，就像是发号施令一样，但是，他自己好像没有发觉这一点。
“好吧，喝吧；只不过您最好安静些，伊波利特，好吗？”
“您老是要我睡觉；公爵，您简直就是我的保姆！等太阳一出来，在天空中发出轰响。谁在诗里这么写的：‘太阳在天空中发出轰响？’虽然没有意义，但是很好！我们就睡觉。列别杰夫！太阳不是生活的源泉吗？在《启示录》中‘生命的源泉，是什么意思？您听说过‘茵陈星’吗，公爵？”
“我听说，列别杰夫认为这颗‘茵陈星’是分布在欧洲的铁路网。”
“不，对不起，不能这样！”列别杰夫跳了起来，一边摆着手，一边喊道，似乎是想阻止大家刚开始发出的笑声，“对不起！跟这几位先生……所有这些先生，”他突然转身对公爵说，“要知道，在某些方面，这是这么回事……”他不讲礼貌地敲了两下桌子，因而大家笑得更厉害了。
列别杰夫虽然处于其通常的“晚间”状态，但是这一次他已激昂得过分，而且破前面长时间进行的“学术性”争论激得性起，在这种情况下他对自己争辨的对于表现出无比的轻蔑和极为露骨的不尊重。
“这样可不行！半小时前我们曾约法在先：有人在说话的时候，不能打断，不能哈哈大笑，要让人自由地充分发表意见，然后，即使是无神论者，如果他愿意，也可以进行反驳；我们让将军当主席，就这样！否则会怎么样？人家在发表高见，阐述深刻的思想，就这么可以随便打断……”
“您说吧，说吧，谁也不会打断您！”响起了好几个声音。
“您说吧，可别说过了头。”
“‘茵陈星’是怎么回事？”有人探问道。
“我一点也不知道。”伊沃尔京将军回答说，一本正经地坐在不久前推举他当主席的座位上。
“我异常喜爱这些争论和抬杠，公爵，当然是指学术上的，”这时凯勒尔嘀咕着说。他完全陶醉于这种情境，坐在椅子上显得焦躁不耐和辗转不安。“是学术的和政治的争论，”他突然又出人意料地转向叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇说，他几乎就坐在他旁边。“您要知道，我特别喜欢看报纸上有关英国国会的报导，不过我感兴趣的不是他们在那里议论的事情（要知道，我不是政治家），而是他们彼此间怎样说明解释，这么说吧，作为政治家他们是怎样谈吐的：‘坐在对面的高贵的公爵”，‘同意我想法的高贵的伯爵，’‘我这位高贵的论敌提出的提案震惊了全欧洲’，也就是说，所有这些用语，自由民族的所有这一套议会制度，对于我辈兄弟来说颇有吸引力！公爵，我就很赞赏。我在心灵深处总是个演员，我向您发誓，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇。”
“说了这一通后又怎么呢？”加尼亚在另一个角落里急躁地说，“照您看来，结果是铁路是该诅咒的，它们给人类带来毁灭，它们是降到地面的瘟疫，污染了‘生命的源泉、”
加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇今天晚上情绪特别激昂，公爵觉得，他心境愉快，几乎是洋洋得意。当然，他跟列别杰夫是开玩笑，是激他，但很快自己也激奋起来了。
“不是铁路，不是！”列别杰夫反驳说。他一方面失去了自制力，与此同时又感到异常满足。“其实光是铁路还污染不了生命的源泉，而这一切总的来说都该受到诅咒，而近几个世纪的这一切思想情绪，总体而言，在科学和实践方面来看，也许确实应该诅咒。”
“是肯定受到诅咒还是仅仅是可能？在这种情况下这点可是重要的，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇询问道。
“该咒，该咒，肯定该咒。”列别杰夫激昂地重复着说。
“别忙，列别杰夫，每到早晨您就善良得多，”普季岑微笑着指出。
“而一到晚上却要坦率得多！晚上比较坦诚和直率！”列别杰夫转向他激动地说，“也比较单纯和明确，比较诚实和受人敬重，尽管这样我会受到你们的攻击，但我不在乎；我现在向你们大家，向所有的无神论者挑战：你们，从事科学、办工业、搞团体、拿工资和其他等等的人们，用什么来拯救世界，在哪儿为它寻找到一条正常发展的道路？靠什么？靠信市？信货是什么？信贷会把我们引向何方？”
“您可真好奇！”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇指出。
“而我认为，谁对这样的问题不感兴趣，准就是上流社会游手好闲的人。至少会导致共同团结和利益平衡，”普季岑指出。
“仅此而已！仅此而已！除了满足个人的私利和物质的需要，不承受任何道德的基础？普遍的和平，普遍的幸福，这是因为需要！我斗胆请问，是该这样理解您的意思吗，我的阁下？”
“可是要活、要吃、要喝是普遍的需要，没有普遍的合作和利益的一致您是不能满足这种需要的，说到底，这样一种理由极为充分的科学的信念，似乎就是一种相当坚实的思想，足以成为人类未来世纪的支撑点和‘生命的源泉’，”当真已经非常激昂的加尼亚指出。
“必须要吃和喝，这仅仅是一种自我保存的感觉……”
“难道仅有自我保存的感觉还少吗？要知道，自我保存的感觉是人类生活的正常规律……”
“这是谁对您说的？”突然叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇喊着说，“规律，这话可错，但是它的正常与毁灭的规律，也许还有自我毁灭的规律是一样的，难道人类整个正常的规律就只是自我保存吗？”
“哎！”伊波利特喊了一声，很快地转向叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，并用一种异常的好奇心打量着他；但在看到他在笑以后，他自己也笑了起来。他推了一下站在旁边的科利亚，又问他几点钟了，甚至动手把科利亚的银表移到自己眼前，贪婪地看了一下指针。然后，就像忘了一切，在沙发上躺着，将双手枕在脑下，开始望着天花板；过了半分钟他又坐到桌子旁，挺直身子，倾听着已经激奋到极点的列别杰夫。
“真是个狡猾和有讽刺意味的思想，嘲弄人的思想！”列别杰夫急切地抓住叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇的怪论说，“说出这个思想目的是要煽起对方进行较量，但是这个思想倒是正确的！因为您作为上流社会的一个爱讽刺嘲笑的人和骑兵军官（尽管不无才能！），连自己也不知道，您的思想深刻和确切到什么地步！是的。自我毁灭的规律和自我保存的规律在人类身上是同样有力量的！魔鬼同样控制人类一直要到我们也不知道的时代。您在笑？您不相信魔鬼？不信魔鬼是法国的思想，是轻率的思想。您知道吗，谁是魔鬼？您知道吗，他叫什么名字？您连他的名字也不知道，却在嘲笑他的形状，照伏尔泰那样，嘲笑他的蹄子，尾巴和头角，这些是您自己想出来的；因为魔鬼是伟大而威严的神灵，而不是您为他杜撰那样的又长蹄子又生头角的。但现在的问题不在魔鬼身上！……”
“为什么您知道，现在的问题不在魔鬼身上呢？”突然伊波利特喊了一声并像毛病发作似的哈哈大笑起来。
“真是个敏捷而富有启示的思想！”列别杰夫称赞说，“但是问题又不在这里，我们的问题在于，‘生命的源泉’是否衰竭了，由于大力发展……”
“铁路？”科利亚嚷了一声。
“不是铁路交通，年轻但急躁的毛头小伙子，而是整个趋向，而铁路，这么说吧，可以作为这种趋向的一幅画，一种艺术性体现。轰隆轰隆，喀嚓喀嚓，赶来赶去，据说是为了人类的幸福！‘人类变得过分喧闹和追逐实利，缺少精神的安宁，’一位退隐的思想家抱怨说。‘让它去吧，但是给饥饿的人类运去粮食的辘辘车轮声，也许比精神的安宁更好。’另一位云游四方的思想家以胜利者的口吻回答他道，便神气活现地离他而去了。卑鄙的列别杰夫，我不相信给全人类运送粮食的大车！因为给全人类运送粮食的大车，缺少行为的道德基础，是会把相当一部分人类非常冷漠地排除在享用运来的粮食之外的，这种情况已经有过了……”
“是火车会非常冷漠地排除人类？”有人接着话茬问道。
“这种情况是已经有过了，”列别杰夫对所间的问题不予理睬，重复着说，“已经有过一个马尔萨斯，人类的朋友。但是这个道德基础不稳定的人类的朋友却是个吃人类的恶煞，不用说他的虚荣心了；因为您若凌辱了这些无数的人类朋友中哪一个的虚荣心，他马上便会出于卑劣的报复而从四面八方放火焚烧世界。不过，如果公正地说，那么我们中任何人，还有我，所有人中最卑劣的人，也会是这样的，因为我可能会第一个抱来柴火，而自己则逃之夭夭。但是，问题又不在于此！”
“到底是在哪里呢？”
“真讨厌。”
“问题在过去许多世纪的一桩轶闻，因为我必须讲过去许多世纪前的旧闻。在我们这个时代，在我们祖国--我希望，诸位，你们跟我一样都是祖国的，因为我自己甚至准备流尽自己的鲜血……，’
“说下去！说下去！”
“在我们祖国，就像在欧洲一样，遍及各地的可怕的饥荒正降临人类，据可能的统计和我所能忆及的，现在四分之一世纪不超过一次饥荒，换句话说，每二十五年一次。我不会去争论数字的确切性，但比较起来是相当少的。”
“跟什么比较？”
“跟十二世纪及与它相邻的前后那几个世纪相比。因为当时，如作家们所写和确信的那样，人间普遍的饥荒两年就要降临一次或者至少是三年一次，因此在这样的境况下人甚至吃起人来，虽然是保守秘密的。有这么一个不劳而食的人在临到老年的时候，没有受到任何逼迫自己供称，他在自己漫长贫困的一生中弄死了并以极为秘密的方式亲自吃掉了六十个僧侣和几个世俗的婴儿，一共是六个，但不多，就是说，与被他吃掉的僧侣数字来比是非常少的。对于世俗的成年人，他倒从来也没有怀着这种目的去碰过他们。”
“这不可能！”主席自己，即将军，甚至几乎用生气的口气喊了一声，“诸位，我常常跟他议论和争论，而且总是有关这一类的思想；但是他最常搬出来的便是这样的荒唐事，简直不堪入耳，没一点儿是真的！”
“将军！想想卡尔斯之围吧，而诸位，你们要知道，我讲的趣闻可纯粹是真实的。我还要指出，虽然几乎所有的事实都有自己确定不移的法则，但几乎总是不可思议的和异常离奇的。甚至越是真实，有时候越是离奇。”

“可是难道可以吃掉六十个僧侣吗？”周围的人笑着说。
“显然，他不是一下子吃下他们的，也许是在１５或２０年里吃掉的，那么已经完全可以理解和觉得自然了……”
“觉得自然？”
“是自然嘛！”列别杰夫带着一丝不让的固执态度回嘴说，“此外，天主教的僧侣就自己的本性而言本已是随和的和好奇的，把他诱到森林里去或是某个偏僻的地方是十分容易的，在那里就像上面说的那样对付他，但是我毕竟也不否认吃掉的人数是异常惊人的，甚至是难以想像的。”
“也许，这是真的，诸位，”突然公爵说道。
到回前为止他默默地听着争论，没有干预谈话，常常跟着大家爆发出的笑声由衷地笑着。看得出，他非常高兴这样喧闹，这样快活，甚至他们喝这么多。也许，整个晚上他一句活也不会说，全是忽然不知怎么的想要说话了。他一说起来就异常正经，因而大家一下子都好奇地转向了他。
“诸位，其实我说的是，当时是经常发生这样的饥荒。尽管我不太了解历史，但是我也听说过这种事，但是，‘在过去好像也必然是这样。当我身处瑞士山区的时候，那里有许多骑士时代的古堡废墟，使我惊诧万分。这些古堡建在陡崖峭壁的山坡上，垂直高度至少有半俄里（这就是说，要走好几俄里的山路）。众所周知，整座城堡就是石头垒起来的如山一般的宏伟建筑。工程是令人震惊的，简直是不可能的！当然，建造城堡的全是穷人，奴隶。此外，他们还得交纳各种各样的赋税，供养僧侣。在这种情况下又怎么养活自己和耕作田地？当时他们人数很少，想必饿死者多得不得了，大概实在没什么东西可吃。我有时甚至想：当时这些人怎么没有完全死绝，居然没有发生这种事，他们又是怎么挺下来，熬过来的？说有人吃人的事，也许，还很多，在这一点上，列别杰夫无疑是对的；只不过我不知道，为什么他偏偏要把僧侣扯到这里面去，他想以此说明什么？”
“一定是十二世纪时只有僧侣可以吃，因为只有僧侣长得肥，”加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇指出。
“真是个绝妙而正确的思想！”列别杰夫喊道，“因为对于俗人他连碰也不碰一下。不吃一个俗人而吃了六十个僧侣，这是一个可怕的思想，一个历史学思想，一个统计学思想，说到底，根据这样的事实，有本事的人就会重新创建历史学；因为这建立在精确的数字上，僧侣比起当时所有其他的人类来至少幸福自在六十倍。还有，也许，他们比起所有其他的人类来至少要肥六十倍……”
“夸大了，夸大了，列别杰夫！”四周一片哈哈笑声。
“我同意这是个历史学思想，但是您要引出什么结论？”公爵继续问。（他说得非常认真，没有丝毫开玩笑和嘲笑列别杰夫的意思，可是大家却都在笑话列别杰夫，因此在大伙儿造成的总的氛围中，公爵的口吻不由地显得有些滑稽可笑，再过一会，大家便会对他也加以嘲笑的，但是他没有注意到这一点。）
“公爵，难道您看不出来，这是个神经错乱的人？”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇俯身对公爵说，“刚才这里有人对我说，他是想当律师和发表律师演说想疯了，现在还在想通过考试。我等着看精彩的好戏。”
“我引出一个伟大的结论，”列别杰夫这时大声吼叫着。
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 33楼  发表于: 2014-01-18 0

Part 3 Chapter 5
HIPPOLYTE, who had fallen asleep during Lebedeff's discourse, now suddenly woke up, just as though someone had jogged him in the side. He shuddered, raised himself on his arm, gazed around, and grew very pale. A look almost of terror crossed his face as he recollected.
"What! are they all off? Is it all over? Is the sun up?" He trembled, and caught at the prince's hand. "What time is it? Tell me, quick, for goodness' sake! How long have I slept?" he added, almost in despair, just as though he had overslept something upon which his whole fate depended.
"You have slept seven or perhaps eight minutes," said Evgenie Pavlovitch.
Hippolyte gazed eagerly at the latter, and mused for a few moments.
"Oh, is that all?" he said at last. "Then I--"
He drew a long, deep breath of relief, as it seemed. He realized that all was not over as yet, that the sun had not risen, and that the guests had merely gone to supper. He smiled, and two hectic spots appeared on his cheeks.
"So you counted the minutes while I slept, did you, Evgenie Pavlovitch?" he said, ironically. "You have not taken your eyes off me all the evening--I have noticed that much, you see! Ah, Rogojin! I've just been dreaming about him, prince," he added, frowning. "Yes, by the by," starting up, "where's the orator? Where's Lebedeff? Has he finished? What did he talk about? Is it true, prince, that you once declared that 'beauty would save the world'? Great Heaven! The prince says that beauty saves the world! And I declare that he only has such playful ideas because he's in love! Gentlemen, the prince is in love. I guessed it the moment he came in. Don't blush, prince; you make me sorry for you. What beauty saves the world? Colia told me that you are a zealous Christian; is it so? Colia says you call yourself a Christian."
The prince regarded him attentively, but said nothing.
"You don't answer me; perhaps you think I am very fond of you?" added Hippolyte, as though the words had been drawn from him.
"No, I don't think that. I know you don't love me."
"What, after yesterday? Wasn't I honest with you?"
"I knew yesterday that you didn't love me."
"Why so? why so? Because I envy you, eh? You always think that, I know. But do you know why I am saying all this? Look here! I must have some more champagne--pour me out some, Keller, will you?"
"No, you're not to drink any more, Hippolyte. I won't let you." The prince moved the glass away.
"Well perhaps you're right," said Hippolyte, musing. They might say--yet, devil take them! what does it matter?--prince, what can it matter what people will say of us THEN, eh? I believe I'm half asleep. I've had such a dreadful dream--I've only just remembered it. Prince, I don't wish you such dreams as that, though sure enough, perhaps, I DON'T love you. Why wish a man evil, though you do not love him, eh? Give me your hand--let me press it sincerely. There--you've given me your hand--you must feel that I DO press it sincerely, don't you? I don't think I shall drink any more. What time is it? Never mind, I know the time. The time has come, at all events. What! they are laying supper over there, are they? Then this table is free? Capital, gentlemen! I--hem! these gentlemen are not listening. Prince, I will just read over an article I have here. Supper is more interesting, of course, but--"
Here Hippolyte suddenly, and most unexpectedly, pulled out of his breast-pocket a large sealed paper. This imposing-looking document he placed upon the table before him.
The effect of this sudden action upon the company was instantaneous. Evgenie Pavlovitch almost bounded off his chair in excitement. Rogojin drew nearer to the table with a look on his face as if he knew what was coming. Gania came nearer too; so did Lebedeff and the others--the paper seemed to be an object of great interest to the company in general.
"What have you got there?" asked the prince, with some anxiety.
"At the first glimpse of the rising sun, prince, I will go to bed. I told you I would, word of honour! You shall see!" cried Hippolyte. "You think I'm not capable of opening this packet, do you?" He glared defiantly round at the audience in general.
The prince observed that he was trembling all over.
"None of us ever thought such a thing!" Muishkin replied for all. "Why should you suppose it of us? And what are you going to read, Hippolyte? What is it?"
"Yes, what is it?" asked others. The packet sealed with red wax seemed to attract everyone, as though it were a magnet.
"I wrote this yesterday, myself, just after I saw you, prince, and told you I would come down here. I wrote all day and all night, and finished it this morning early. Afterwards I had a dream."
"Hadn't we better hear it tomorrow?" asked the prince timidly.
"Tomorrow 'there will be no more time!'" laughed Hippolyte, hysterically. "You needn't be afraid; I shall get through the whole thing in forty minutes, at most an hour! Look how interested everybody is! Everybody has drawn near. Look! look at them all staring at my sealed packet! If I hadn't sealed it up it wouldn't have been half so effective! Ha, ha! that's mystery, that is! Now then, gentlemen, shall I break the seal or not? Say the word; it's a mystery, I tell you--a secret! Prince, you know who said there would be 'no more time'? It was the great and powerful angel in the Apocalypse."
"Better not read it now," said the prince, putting his hand on the packet.
"No, don't read it!" cried Evgenie suddenly. He appeared so strangely disturbed that many of those present could not help wondering.
"Reading? None of your reading now!" said somebody; "it's supper- time." "What sort of an article is it? For a paper? Probably it's very dull," said another. But the prince's timid gesture had impressed even Hippolyte.
"Then I'm not to read it?" he whispered, nervously. "Am I not to read it?" he repeated, gazing around at each face in turn. "What are you afraid of, prince?" he turned and asked the latter suddenly.
"What should I be afraid of?"
"Has anyone a coin about them? Give me a twenty-copeck piece, somebody!" And Hippolyte leapt from his chair.
"Here you are," said Lebedeff, handing him one; he thought the boy had gone mad.
"Vera Lukianovna," said Hippolyte, "toss it, will you? Heads, I read, tails, I don't."
Vera Lebedeff tossed the coin into the air and let it fall on the table.
It was "heads."
"Then I read it," said Hippolyte, in the tone of one bowing to the fiat of destiny. He could not have grown paler if a verdict of death had suddenly been presented to him.
"But after all, what is it? Is it possible that I should have just risked my fate by tossing up?" he went on, shuddering; and looked round him again. His eyes had a curious expression of sincerity. "That is an astonishing psychological fact," he cried, suddenly addressing the prince, in a tone of the most intense surprise. "It is ... it is something quite inconceivable, prince," he repeated with growing animation, like a man regaining consciousness. "Take note of it, prince, remember it; you collect, I am told, facts concerning capital punishment... They told me so. Ha, ha! My God, how absurd!" He sat down on the sofa, put his elbows on the table, and laid his head on his hands. "It is shameful--though what does it matter to me if it is shameful?
"Gentlemen, gentlemen! I am about to break the seal," he continued, with determination. "I-I--of course I don't insist upon anyone listening if they do not wish to."
With trembling fingers he broke the seal and drew out several sheets of paper, smoothed them out before him, and began sorting them.
"What on earth does all this mean? What's he going to read?" muttered several voices. Others said nothing; but one and all sat down and watched with curiosity. They began to think something strange might really be about to happen. Vera stood and trembled behind her father's chair, almost in tears with fright; Colia was nearly as much alarmed as she was. Lebedeff jumped up and put a couple of candles nearer to Hippolyte, so that he might see better.
"Gentlemen, this--you'll soon see what this is," began Hippolyte, and suddenly commenced his reading.
"It's headed, 'A Necessary Explanation,' with the motto, 'Apres moi le deluge!' Oh, deuce take it all! Surely I can never have seriously written such a silly motto as that? Look here, gentlemen, I beg to give notice that all this is very likely terrible nonsense. It is only a few ideas of mine. If you think that there is anything mysterious coming--or in a word--"
"Better read on without any more beating about the bush," said Gania.
"Affectation!" remarked someone else.
"Too much talk," said Rogojin, breaking the silence for the first time.
Hippolyte glanced at him suddenly, and when their eye, met Rogojin showed his teeth in a disagreeable smile, and said the following strange words: "That's not the way to settle this business, my friend; that's not the way at all."
Of course nobody knew what Rogojin meant by this; but his words made a deep impression upon all. Everyone seemed to see in a flash the same idea.
As for Hippolyte, their effect upon him was astounding. He trembled so that the prince was obliged to support him, and would certainly have cried out, but that his voice seemed to have entirely left him for the moment. For a minute or two he could not speak at all, but panted and stared at Rogojin. At last he managed to ejaculate:
"Then it was YOU who came--YOU--YOU?"
"Came where? What do you mean?" asked Rogojin, amazed. But Hippolyte, panting and choking with excitement, interrupted him violently.
"YOU came to me last week, in the night, at two o'clock, the day I was with you in the morning! Confess it was you!"
"Last week? In the night? Have you gone cracked, my good friend?"
Hippolyte paused and considered a moment. Then a smile of cunning--almost triumph--crossed his lips.
"It was you," he murmured, almost in a whisper, but with absolute conviction. "Yes, it was you who came to my room and sat silently on a chair at my window for a whole hour--more! It was between one and two at night; you rose and went out at about three. It was you, you! Why you should have frightened me so, why you should have wished to torment me like that, I cannot tell--but you it was."
There was absolute hatred in his eyes as he said this, but his look of fear and his trembling had not left him.
"You shall hear all this directly, gentlemen. I-I--listen!"
He seized his paper in a desperate hurry; he fidgeted with it, and tried to sort it, but for a long while his trembling hands could not collect the sheets together. "He's either mad or delirious," murmured Rogojin. At last he began.
For the first five minutes the reader's voice continued to tremble, and he read disconnectedly and unevenly; but gradually his voice strengthened. Occasionally a violent fit of coughing stopped him, but his animation grew with the progress of the reading--as did also the disagreeable impression which it made upon his audience,--until it reached the highest pitch of excitement.
Here is the article.
MY NECESSARY EXPLANATION.
"Apres moi le deluge.
"Yesterday morning the prince came to see me. Among other things he asked me to come down to his villa. I knew he would come and persuade me to this step, and that he would adduce the argument that it would be easier for me to die' among people and green trees,'--as he expressed it. But today he did not say 'die,' he said 'live.' It is pretty much the same to me, in my position, which he says. When I asked him why he made such a point of his 'green trees,' he told me, to my astonishment, that he had heard that last time I was in Pavlofsk I had said that I had come 'to have a last look at the trees.'
"When I observed that it was all the same whether one died among trees or in front of a blank brick wall, as here, and that it was not worth making any fuss over a fortnight, he agreed at once. But he insisted that the good air at Pavlofsk and the greenness would certainly cause a physical change for the better, and that my excitement, and my DREAMS, would be perhaps relieved. I remarked to him, with a smile, that he spoke like a materialist, and he answered that he had always been one. As he never tells a lie, there must be something in his words. His smile is a pleasant one. I have had a good look at him. I don't know whether I like him or not; and I have no time to waste over the question. The hatred which I felt for him for five months has become considerably modified, I may say, during the last month. Who knows, perhaps I am going to Pavlofsk on purpose to see him! But why do I leave my chamber? Those who are sentenced to death should not leave their cells. If I had not formed a final resolve, but had decided to wait until the last minute, I should not leave my room, or accept his invitation to come and die at Pavlofsk. I must be quick and finish this explanation before tomorrow. I shall have no time to read it over and correct it, for I must read it tomorrow to the prince and two or three witnesses whom I shall probably find there.
"As it will be absolutely true, without a touch of falsehood, I am curious to see what impression it will make upon me myself at the moment when I read it out. This is my 'last and solemn'--but why need I call it that? There is no question about the truth of it, for it is not worthwhile lying for a fortnight; a fortnight of life is not itself worth having, which is a proof that I write nothing here but pure truth.
("N.B.--Let me remember to consider; am I mad at this moment, or not? or rather at these moments? I have been told that consumptives sometimes do go out of their minds for a while in the last stages of the malady. I can prove this tomorrow when I read it out, by the impression it makes upon the audience. I must settle this question once and for all, otherwise I can't go on with anything.)
"I believe I have just written dreadful nonsense; but there's no time for correcting, as I said before. Besides that, I have made myself a promise not to alter a single word of what I write in this paper, even though I find that I am contradicting myself every five lines. I wish to verify the working of the natural logic of my ideas tomorrow during the reading--whether I am capable of detecting logical errors, and whether all that I have meditated over during the last six months be true, or nothing but delirium.
"If two months since I had been called upon to leave my room and the view of Meyer's wall opposite, I verily believe I should have been sorry. But now I have no such feeling, and yet I am leaving this room and Meyer's brick wall FOR EVER. So that my conclusion, that it is not worth while indulging in grief, or any other emotion, for a fortnight, has proved stronger than my very nature, and has taken over the direction of my feelings. But is it so? Is it the case that my nature is conquered entirely? If I were to be put on the rack now, I should certainly cry out. I should not say that it is not worth while to yell and feel pain because I have but a fortnight to live.
"But is it true that I have but a fortnight of life left to me? I know I told some of my friends that Doctor B. had informed me that this was the case; but I now confess that I lied; B. has not even seen me. However, a week ago, I called in a medical student, Kislorodoff, who is a Nationalist, an Atheist, and a Nihilist, by conviction, and that is why I had him. I needed a man who would tell me the bare truth without any humbug or ceremony--and so he did--indeed, almost with pleasure (which I thought was going a little too far).
"Well, he plumped out that I had about a month left me; it might be a little more, he said, under favourable circumstances, but it might also be considerably less. According to his opinion I might die quite suddenly--tomorrow, for instance--there had been such cases. Only a day or two since a young lady at Colomna who suffered from consumption, and was about on a par with myself in the march of the disease, was going out to market to buy provisions, when she suddenly felt faint, lay down on the sofa, gasped once, and died.
"Kislorodoff told me all this with a sort of exaggerated devil- may-care negligence, and as though he did me great honour by talking to me so, because it showed that he considered me the same sort of exalted Nihilistic being as himself, to whom death was a matter of no consequence whatever, either way.
"At all events, the fact remained--a month of life and no more! That he is right in his estimation I am absolutely persuaded.
"It puzzles me much to think how on earth the prince guessed yesterday that I have had bad dreams. He said to me, 'Your excitement and dreams will find relief at Pavlofsk.' Why did he say 'dreams'? Either he is a doctor, or else he is a man of exceptional intelligence and wonderful powers of observation. (But that he is an 'idiot,' at bottom there can be no doubt whatever.) It so happened that just before he arrived I had a delightful little dream; one of a kind that I have hundreds of just now. I had fallen asleep about an hour before he came in, and dreamed that I was in some room, not my own. It was a large room, well furnished, with a cupboard, chest of drawers, sofa, and my bed, a fine wide bed covered with a silken counterpane. But I observed in the room a dreadful-looking creature, a sort of monster. It was a little like a scorpion, but was not a scorpion, but far more horrible, and especially so, because there are no creatures anything like it in nature, and because it had appeared to me for a purpose, and bore some mysterious signification. I looked at the beast well; it was brown in colour and had a shell; it was a crawling kind of reptile, about eight inches long, and narrowed down from the head, which was about a couple of fingers in width, to the end of the tail, which came to a fine point. Out of its trunk, about a couple of inches below its head, came two legs at an angle of forty-five degrees, each about three inches long, so that the beast looked like a trident from above. It had eight hard needle-like whiskers coming out from different parts of its body; it went along like a snake, bending its body about in spite of the shell it wore, and its motion was very quick and very horrible to look at. I was dreadfully afraid it would sting me; somebody had told me, I thought, that it was venomous; but what tormented me most of all was the wondering and wondering as to who had sent it into my room, and what was the mystery which I felt it contained.
"It hid itself under the cupboard and under the chest of drawers, and crawled into the corners. I sat on a chair and kept my legs tucked under me. Then the beast crawled quietly across the room and disappeared somewhere near my chair. I looked about for it in terror, but I still hoped that as my feet were safely tucked away it would not be able to touch me.
"Suddenly I heard behind me, and about on a level with my head, a sort of rattling sound. I turned sharp round and saw that the brute had crawled up the wall as high as the level of my face, and that its horrible tail, which was moving incredibly fast from side to side, was actually touching my hair! I jumped up--and it disappeared. I did not dare lie down on my bed for fear it should creep under my pillow. My mother came into the room, and some friends of hers. They began to hunt for the reptile and were more composed than I was; they did not seem to be afraid of it. But they did not understand as I did.
"Suddenly the monster reappeared; it crawled slowly across the room and made for the door, as though with some fixed intention, and with a slow movement that was more horrible than ever.
"Then my mother opened the door and called my dog, Norma. Norma was a great Newfoundland, and died five years ago.
"She sprang forward and stood still in front of the reptile as if she had been turned to stone. The beast stopped too, but its tail and claws still moved about. I believe animals are incapable of feeling supernatural fright--if I have been rightly informed,--but at this moment there appeared to me to be something more than ordinary about Norma's terror, as though it must be supernatural; and as though she felt, just as I did myself, that this reptile was connected with some mysterious secret, some fatal omen.
"Norma backed slowly and carefully away from the brute, which followed her, creeping deliberately after her as though it intended to make a sudden dart and sting her.
"In spite of Norma's terror she looked furious, though she trembled in all her limbs. At length she slowly bared her terrible teeth, opened her great red jaws, hesitated--took courage, and seized the beast in her mouth. It seemed to try to dart out of her jaws twice, but Norma caught at it and half swallowed it as it was escaping. The shell cracked in her teeth; and the tail and legs stuck out of her mouth and shook about in a horrible manner. Suddenly Norma gave a piteous whine; the reptile had bitten her tongue. She opened her mouth wide with the pain, and I saw the beast lying across her tongue, and out of its body, which was almost bitten in two, came a hideous white-looking substance, oozing out into Norma's mouth; it was of the consistency of a crushed black-beetle. just then I awoke and the prince entered the room."
"Gentlemen!" said Hippolyte, breaking off here, "I have not done yet, but it seems to me that I have written down a great deal here that is unnecessary,--this dream--"
"You have indeed!" said Gania.
"There is too much about myself, I know, but--" As Hippolyte said this his face wore a tired, pained look, and he wiped the sweat off his brow.
"Yes," said Lebedeff, "you certainly think a great deal too much about yourself."
"Well--gentlemen--I do not force anyone to listen! If any of you are unwilling to sit it out, please go away, by all means!"
"He turns people out of a house that isn't his own," muttered Rogojin.
"Suppose we all go away?" said Ferdishenko suddenly.
Hippolyte clutched his manuscript, and gazing at the last speaker with glittering eyes, said: "You don't like me at all!" A few laughed at this, but not all.
"Hippolyte," said the prince, "give me the papers, and go to bed like a sensible fellow. We'll have a good talk tomorrow, but you really mustn't go on with this reading; it is not good for you!"
"How can I? How can I?" cried Hippolyte, looking at him in amazement. "Gentlemen! I was a fool! I won't break off again. Listen, everyone who wants to!"
He gulped down some water out of a glass standing near, bent over the table, in order to hide his face from the audience, and recommenced.
"The idea that it is not worth while living for a few weeks took possession of me a month ago, when I was told that I had four weeks to live, but only partially so at that time. The idea quite overmastered me three days since, that evening at Pavlofsk. The first time that I felt really impressed with this thought was on the terrace at the prince's, at the very moment when I had taken it into my head to make a last trial of life. I wanted to see people and trees (I believe I said so myself), I got excited, I maintained Burdovsky's rights, 'my neighbour!'--I dreamt that one and all would open their arms, and embrace me, that there would be an indescribable exchange of forgiveness between us all! In a word, I behaved like a fool, and then, at that very same instant, I felt my 'last conviction.' I ask myself now how I could have waited six months for that conviction! I knew that I had a disease that spares no one, and I really had no illusions; but the more I realized my condition, the more I clung to life; I wanted to live at any price. I confess I might well have resented that blind, deaf fate, which, with no apparent reason, seemed to have decided to crush me like a fly; but why did I not stop at resentment? Why did I begin to live, knowing that it was not worthwhile to begin? Why did I attempt to do what I knew to be an impossibility? And yet I could not even read a book to the end; I had given up reading. What is the good of reading, what is the good of learning anything, for just six months? That thought has made me throw aside a book more than once.
"Yes, that wall of Meyer's could tell a tale if it liked. There was no spot on its dirty surface that I did not know by heart. Accursed wall! and yet it is dearer to me than all the Pavlofsk trees!--That is--it WOULD be dearer if it were not all the same to me, now!
"I remember now with what hungry interest I began to watch the lives of other people--interest that I had never felt before! I used to wait for Colia's arrival impatiently, for I was so ill myself, then, that I could not leave the house. I so threw myself into every little detail of news, and took so much interest in every report and rumour, that I believe I became a regular gossip! I could not understand, among other things, how all these people--with so much life in and before them--do not become RICH-- and I don't understand it now. I remember being told of a poor wretch I once knew, who had died of hunger. I was almost beside myself with rage! I believe if I could have resuscitated him I would have done so for the sole purpose of murdering him!
"Occasionally I was so much better that I could go out; but the streets used to put me in such a rage that I would lock myself up for days rather than go out, even if I were well enough to do so! I could not bear to see all those preoccupied, anxious-looking creatures continuously surging along the streets past me! Why are they always anxious? What is the meaning of their eternal care and worry? It is their wickedness, their perpetual detestable malice--that's what it is--they are all full of malice, malice!
"Whose fault is it that they are all miserable, that they don't know how to live, though they have fifty or sixty years of life before them? Why did that fool allow himself to die of hunger with sixty years of unlived life before him?
"And everyone of them shows his rags, his toil-worn hands, and yells in his wrath: 'Here are we, working like cattle all our lives, and always as hungry as dogs, and there are others who do not work, and are fat and rich!' The eternal refrain! And side by side with them trots along some wretched fellow who has known better days, doing light porter's work from morn to night for a living, always blubbering and saying that 'his wife died because he had no money to buy medicine with,' and his children dying of cold and hunger, and his eldest daughter gone to the bad, and so on. Oh! I have no pity and no patience for these fools of people. Why can't they be Rothschilds? Whose fault is it that a man has not got millions of money like Rothschild? If he has life, all this must be in his power! Whose fault is it that he does not know how to live his life?
"Oh! it's all the same to me now--NOW! But at that time I would soak my pillow at night with tears of mortification, and tear at my blanket in my rage and fury. Oh, how I longed at that time to be turned out--ME, eighteen years old, poor, half-clothed, turned out into the street, quite alone, without lodging, without work, without a crust of bread, without relations, without a single acquaintance, in some large town--hungry, beaten (if you like), but in good health--and THEN I would show them--
"What would I show them?
"Oh, don't think that I have no sense of my own humiliation! I have suffered already in reading so far. Which of you all does not think me a fool at this moment--a young fool who knows nothing of life--forgetting that to live as I have lived these last six months is to live longer than grey-haired old men. Well, let them laugh, and say it is all nonsense, if they please. They may say it is all fairy-tales, if they like; and I have spent whole nights telling myself fairy-tales. I remember them all. But how can I tell fairy-tales now? The time for them is over. They amused me when I found that there was not even time for me to learn the Greek grammar, as I wanted to do. 'I shall die before I get to the syntax,' I thought at the first page--and threw the book under the table. It is there still, for I forbade anyone to pick it up.
"If this 'Explanation' gets into anybody's hands, and they have patience to read it through, they may consider me a madman, or a schoolboy, or, more likely, a man condemned to die, who thought it only natural to conclude that all men, excepting himself, esteem life far too lightly, live it far too carelessly and lazily, and are, therefore, one and all, unworthy of it. Well, I affirm that my reader is wrong again, for my convictions have nothing to do with my sentence of death. Ask them, ask any one of them, or all of them, what they mean by happiness! Oh, you may be perfectly sure that if Columbus was happy, it was not after he had discovered America, but when he was discovering it! You may be quite sure that he reached the culminating point of his happiness three days before he saw the New World with his actual eves, when his mutinous sailors wanted to tack about, and return to Europe! What did the New World matter after all? Columbus had hardly seen it when he died, and in reality he was entirely ignorant of what he had discovered. The important thing is life-- life and nothing else! What is any 'discovery' whatever compared with the incessant, eternal discovery of life?
"But what is the use of talking? I'm afraid all this is so commonplace that my confession will be taken for a schoolboy exercise--the work of some ambitious lad writing in the hope of his work 'seeing the light'; or perhaps my readers will say that 'I had perhaps something to say, but did not know how to express it.'
"Let me add to this that in every idea emanating from genius, or even in every serious human idea--born in the human brain--there always remains something--some sediment--which cannot be expressed to others, though one wrote volumes and lectured upon it for five-and-thirty years. There is always a something, a remnant, which will never come out from your brain, but will remain there with you, and you alone, for ever and ever, and you will die, perhaps, without having imparted what may be the very essence of your idea to a single living soul.
"So that if I cannot now impart all that has tormented me for the last six months, at all events you will understand that, having reached my 'last convictions,' I must have paid a very dear price for them. That is what I wished, for reasons of my own, to make a point of in this my 'Explanation.'
"But let me resume.

列别杰夫的长篇大论将近尾声时在沙发上睡着的伊波利特现在忽然醒来了，就像有人推了一下他的腰部，他颤动了一下，抬起身，扫视四周，脸色一下子变得刷白；他甚至有点惊惧地环顾着周围；当他想起一切并且弄明白是怎么回事的时候，他的脸上几乎流露出惊恐的神色。
“怎么，他们都要走了？结束了？一切都结束了？太阳出来了？”他抓住公爵的手，惊慌不安地问，“几点钟了？看在上帝份上：几点了？我睡过头了。我睡很久了吗？”他几乎带着绝望的神情补充问着，仿佛他睡过了头，耽搁了什么至少是决定他整个命运的大事。
“您睡了七八分钟，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇回答说。
伊波利特贪婪地望了他一下，考虑了片刻。
“啊……只有七八分钟，这么说，我……”
他深深地贪婪地换了口气，仿佛要卸去自己身上异常沉重的负担。最后他悟到，什么都还“没有结束”，还没有天亮，客人们从桌边站起来只是为了小吃，结束的只不过是列别杰夫的一派胡言。他桀然一笑，脸颊上鲜明地显露出两团肺痨患者的红晕。
“我睡着几分钟您都计算了，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，”他嘲讽地接过话荐说，“整个晚上您的目光就没有离开过我，我看见的……啊！罗戈任！我刚才在梦里见到他了，”他皱了下收眉，点头表示着坐在桌旁的罗戈任，低声对公爵说。”“啊，对了，”他突然又转换了活题，“演说家在哪里？列别杰大在哪里，这么说，列别杰夫讲完了？他讲了些什么？公爵，有一次您说过，‘美，能拯救世界’，是这样吗？诸位，”他向大家大声喊了起来，“公爵确信．美能拯救世界！而我确信，他之所以有这样洒脱的思想，是因为他现在在恋爱。诸位，公爵在恋爱；刚才，他一走进来，我就确信这一点。别脸红，公爵，我将会可怜您的。什么样的美能拯救世界？科利亚向我转述了这点……您是个虔诚的基督教徒吗？科利亚说，您自称是基督教徒。”
公爵注意地端详着他，没有回答。
“您不回答我？您大概以为我很喜欢您吧？”伊波利特像是撕下了脸皮，突然补了一句。
“不，我没这样想。我知道，您不喜欢我。”
“什么？甚至在昨天的事后也这样想？昨天我对您是真诚的吧？”
“就是昨天我也知道，您不喜欢我。”
“也就是说，是因为我羡慕您，嫉妒您？您总是这样想，而且现在还这么想，但是……但是我又何必告诉您这一点呢？我还想喝一点香槟；凯勒尔，给我倒上。”
“您不能再喝了，伊波利特，我不给您……”
公爵从他身边移开了酒杯。
“这倒是真的……”他似乎若有所思地立即就同意道，“也许有人还会说……他们说什么关我屁事！不是吗，不是吗？让他们以后去说吧，公爵，是吗？再说以后会怎样跟我们大家有什么相于！……不过，我还没有睡醒，我做了个多么可怕的梦呀，现在才想起来……但愿你不做这样的梦，公爵，虽然我也许确实不喜欢您。其实，即使不喜欢一个人，又何必一定希望他不好呢，不是吗？干吗老是在间我，老是我在间！把您的手给我；我要紧紧握住它，就像这样……不过，您会把手伸给我吗？这么说，您知道，我是真心诚意要握您的手吗？……看来我不能再喝了，几点钟了？其实，不用问，我知道是几点钟。时候到了！现在正是时候。这是干什么，那边角落里在摆小吃吗？这么说，这张桌子是空的吗？好极了！诸位，我……可是所有这些先生们都不在听……我打算念一篇文章，公爵；小吃当然更有意思，但是……”
突然，完全出人意料地，他从自己上衣侧袋中掏出一个公文袋大小的大纸袋，上面还盖着大大的红印章。他把它放在面前桌上。
这一意外的举动在对此没有思想准备，或者最好说，在有思想准备、可不是对此有思想准备的这一群人中产生了强烈的效果。叶甫益尼·帕夫洛维奇甚至在自己的座位上跳了起来；加尼亚迅速走近桌旁；罗戈任也是，但带着一种不满的烦恼，他仿佛明白是怎么一回事。凑巧就在近旁的列别杰夫睁大一双好奇的眼睛走近去看那纸袋，竭力想猜透是怎么回事。
“您这是什么东西？”公爵不安地问。
“太阳一露边，我就躺下，公爵，我说过的；我保证，您瞧着吧！”伊波利特大声嚷道，“但是……但是……难道您认为，我不能拆开这包东西吗。”他补充说着，一边用一种挑衅的神情扫视着周围所有的人，同时又仿佛漫不经心地对大家说。公爵发觉，他浑身都在打颤。
“我们谁也没有这样想，”公爵替大家回答，“再说，为什么您认为，有人会有这样的想法？您要念文章，这算什么怪念头？您这里是什么，伊波利特？”
“这里是什么？他又发生什么不寻常的事了？”周围的人问道。
大家都走拢来，有的人还边吃着东西；红印封口的纸袋像磁铁一般吸引着大家。
“这是昨天我自己写的，就在我向您保证要注到您这儿来后立即写的，公爵。我昨天写了一整天，接着又写了一夜，今天早晨才写完；夜里，临到凌晨时，我还做了个梦……”
“明天念不更好吗？”公爵畏怯地打断说。
“明天就‘不再有时间了！”伊波利特歇斯底里地冷笑了一下，“不过别操心，我在４０分钟内读完，嗯……１小时吧……您看见了，大家多么感兴趣；大家都走拢来了；大家都在望着我的印记；要是我不把文章封在纸袋里就不会有任何效果！哈－哈！这就是秘密性意味着什么；诸位，拆还是不拆？他喊着，一边发出奇怪的笑声，眼睛闪闪发亮。“秘密！秘密！记得吗，公爵，是谁宣布‘不再有时间’的？是《启示录》中一位伟大和强大的天使说的。”
“最好别念了！”突然叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇大声嚷了起来，但是他身上有一种意想不到的不安神情，这使许多人感到奇怪。
“别念吧！”公爵把手放到纸袋上嚷道。
“读什么呀？现在该吃东西，”有人指出。
“文章？要投杂志还是怎么的？”另一个人探问着。
“也许，很乏味。”又一位添了一句。
“到底是怎么一回事。”其余的人探询着。但是公爵那吓人的动作真的将伊波利特本人也吓住了。
“这么说……不念？”他有点担心地向公爵低语道，在发青的嘴唇上带着尴尬的微笑。“不念吗？”他喃喃着，一边用目光扫视着所有在场的人、所有的脸和所有的眼睛，仿佛又带着过去那种像要攻击一切人的好斗架势盯着大家不放。“您……害怕了？”他又转身问公爵。
“怕什么？”公爵问道，脸色变得越来越难看。
“谁有两毛钱币，２０戈比的？”突然伊波利特从椅子上跳起身，就像有人猛地把他拽下来似的，“随便什么硬币？”
“哈！”列别杰夫马上递了给他；他闪过一个念头，有病的伊波利特精神不正常。
“维拉·鲁基扬诺夫娜！”伊波利特急促地邀请说，“来拿着，将它抛到桌子上，看是正面还是反面朝上？正面朝上，就念。”
维拉惊惧地望了一眼硬币，又望了一眼伊波利特，然后还望了一下父亲。她似乎确信她自己不应该看硬币，因此朝上昂起头，有点不好意思地把硬币丢在桌上。掉下来的是正面朝上。
“念！”伊波利特喃喃说，似乎命运作出的决定把他压倒了；即使是向他宣读死刑判决，他的脸色也不会变得更苍白。“不过，”沉默了半分钟后他突然打了个颤，说“这是怎么回事？难道我刚才抛了签。”他还是带着那种死乞白赖、毫无顾忌的目光打量着周围所有的人，“但是，这可是一种令人惊奇的心理特征！”他转向公爵，真正惊讶地突然大声嚷了起来，“这是……这是不可思议的一种特征，公爵。”他重复着说，精神振奋而且似乎镇静了下来。“您把它记下来，公爵，记住它，您不是正在搜集有关死刑的材料吗，……人家对我说的！哈－哈！啊，天哪，这是多么糊涂的荒唐之举呀！”他坐到沙发上，两个手肘撵在桌上，双手抱着自己的脑袋，“这可甚至是羞耻：……但是羞耻关我屁事，”他几乎立即就抬起头，“诸位！诸位，我来启封，”他带着一种突如其来的决心宣布着，“我……不过，我不强迫你们听！……”
他用激动得了抖的双手拆开了纸袋，从里面抽出几张信纸，上面密密麻麻写满了字，将它们放到自己面前，开始把它们展平。
“这是什么？这是怎么回事，要念什么？”一些人阴郁地嘟哝着，另一些人沉默着。但是大家都安坐下来了，好奇地望着。也许，他们确实是在等待着什么异乎寻常的事情。维拉抓住父亲坐的椅子，吓得差点要哭了；科利亚几乎也一样惊惧。已经坐好的列别杰夫突然欠起身，抓住烛台，把它侈近伊波利特，让他读起来光线亮些……
“诸位，这……你们马上就会看到这是什么东西，”伊波利特不知为什么添上这句话，突然就开始念起来：“《必要的解释》！题头是《Ａｐｒｅｓ ｍｏｉ ｌｅｄｅｌｕｇｅ》＊……呸，真见鬼。”他像被烫了似的大声喊着，“难道我真的会写上这样愚蠢的题头？……听着，诸位！……我要你们相信，所有这一切说到底也许都是最不值一提的！这仅仅是我的一些想法……如果你们认为，这里面……有什么秘密的或者……被禁的内容……总之……”
“念吧，不用开场白，”加尼亚打断说。
“真够绕来绕去的！”
“废话真多。”一直保持沉默的罗戈任插了一句。
伊波利特忽然看了他一眼，当他们的目光相遇时，罗戈任痛苦而又恼恨地咧嘴一笑，缓慢地说了一句奇怪的话：
“小伙子，这种事不应该这么干，不这么干的……”
罗戈任想说什么，当然谁也不明白，但是他的这句话却使大家产生了相当奇怪的印象；有一个共同的想法模糊地掠过了每个人的头脑。这句话对伊波利特可产生了可怕的影响：他颤粟得厉害，以致公爵想伸出手来扶住他，要不是他的嗓子突然明显地失了音，他一定会大声喊出来的。整整１分钟他说不出一句话来，只是沉重地喘息着，一直望着罗戈任。终于，他边喘着气，边异常费劲地说：
“那么是您……您曾经……您？”
“曾经怎么啦？我怎么啦？”罗戈任困惑不解地回答着，但是伊波利特怒气勃发，近乎疯狂（它突然主宰了他的心态），尖厉和有力地喊了起来：
“您上个星期曾经到过我那里，是夜里１点多，就是上午我到您那里去的那一天，是您得承认吧，是不是您？”
“上个星期，夜里？你别真的疯了，小伙子？”
“小伙子”又沉默了１分钟，食指点在额头上，仿佛是要想想清楚；但是在他苍白的脸仍然挂着因恐惧而显得尴尬的微笑，这微笑中突然闪过某种似乎是狡猾的、甚至是洋洋得意的神情。
“这是您！”最后他重复说，几乎是喃喃低语，但是异常确信，“您到我这儿来，默默地坐在我窗口的椅子上，整整有１小时，甚至更长；在半夜零点多和１点多的时候；后来在两点多钟时您站起身走了……这是您，是您！为什么您要吓唬我，为什么您要来折磨我，－－我不明白，但这是您！”
＊法语：我死后纵然洪水泛滥。
他的目光中突然闪过无限的憎恨，尽管他身上一直没有停止因恐惧而产生的颤栗。
“诸位，你们马上就将知道这一切，我……我……听着吧。”
他又非常急促地抓起那几张纸；它们散乱着，他竭力把它们归到一起；纸在他颤抖的手中抖动着；他好久都不能安定下来。
终于开始了念读。起先有５分钟光景，出人意料的文章作者还喘息不止念得既不连贯也不平稳；但后他的声音就坚定起来，完全能表达所念的内容了，只是有时候十分强烈的咳嗽中断了朗读；文章念到一半他的声音沙得很厉害；他越是念下去，异常的亢奋就越来越强烈地控制着他，最后达到了最高的程度，就像给听众留下的病态印象一样。下面就是这篇“文章”的全文
我的必要的解释
Apresmiie deluge!
昨天上午公爵到我这儿来；顺便说，他劝我撇到他的别墅去住。我就知道，他一定会坚持这一点的，我深信，他会直截了当地贸然向我说，我在别墅会“在人们和树木中比较轻松地死去”，这是他的说法。但是今天他没有说到死，而说了“将会比较轻松地生活”，但是，处于我这种状况，对于我来说几乎是一样的。我问他他这么不停地提到“树木”暗指着什么，为什么他要把这些 “树木”强加给我？我惊讶地从他那儿获悉，那天晚上我自己仿佛曾这样表示过，说来到帕夫洛夫斯克是要最后一次看看树木。当时我向他指出，在树木底下也罢，望着窗外我的砖墙也罢，反正一样死去，为了两个星期不必这么客气，他立即就同意了；但是，他认为，绿荫和纯净的空气一定会在我身上引起某种生理上的变化，我的容易激动，我的容易做梦也都会改变，也许，会有所缓和。我又笑着向他指出，他说话像个唯物主义者。他微笑着回答我，他一直是个唯物主义者。因为他从来也不撒谎，所以这话是有一定道理的。他的微笑很动人；我现在看他看得比较仔细。我不知道，我现在喜欢他还是不喜欢他；现在我没时问顾得上考虑这一点。应该指出，五个月来我对他的憎恨在最近这一个月里完全平息了。谁知道，也许，我到帕夫洛夫斯克来，主要是为了见到他。但是……为什么当时我要离开我的房间呢？注定要死的人是不应该离开自己的角落的；假若我现在不做出最后的决定，我就会做相反的决定，一直等到最后时刻降临，那么，当然，无论如何也不会离开我的房间，也就不会接受搬到帕夫洛夫斯克他这儿来“死”的建议了。
我一定得在明天以前赶紧写完这篇“解释”。看来，我没有时间重看一遍和进行修改；明天为公爵和两三个见证人（我打算在他那儿找）念时再重看，因为这里没有一句谎言，纯粹全是真话，最后的、郑重的真话，所以我事先就感到很好奇，当我重读这篇“解释”时，在彼时彼刻它会对我自己产生付么样的印象？其实，我写上“最后的、郑重的真话”是多余的：为了两个星期本来就不值得撒谎，因为活两个星期是不值得的；这是我纯粹写真话的最好的证明。（注意，别忘了这样的想法：此刻，也就是说这时候我是不是疯了？有人很肯定地对我说，后期肺痨病人有时候会短暂性情神失常。明天念这篇“解释”时根据听众的印象来检验这一点。这个问题一定要完全确凿地解决：否则什么都无从着手做。
我觉得，我刚才写的是些愚不可及的蠢话，但是我说过了，我没有时问重新修改；除此之外，我对自己立下誓言，故意不修改这份手稿上的任一错字，甚至假如我自己发现每过五行就自相矛盾，也不以修改。我正是想在明天念它的时候来确定一下，我的逻辑思路是否正确；我是否能发现自己的错误，回而也就能检验这六个月里我在这个房间里反复思考的一切是否正确，还是纯粹是一片梦呓。
假如两个月前我就得像现在这样完全离开我的房间，告别梅那罗夫大楼的砖墙，那么我深信，我是会很忧伤的。现在我却没有感到什么，而到明天我就要离开房间，离开这堵墙了，而且永远离开！看来，为了两个星期已经不值得怜惜或者不值得沉缅于某种感受，这种信念已经战胜了我的天性，而且现在已经能主宰我的所有情感，但是真是这样吗？我的天性现在真的全被征服了吗？如果现在来拷打我，我一定会喊叫起来而不会说，因为只有两个星期好活，已经不值得喊叫和感觉疼痛了。
但是，我只能活两个星期，不会活更长时间，这是真的吗？当时在帕夫洛夫斯克我说了谎：ｂ先生什么都没对我说，也从来没有见过我，但是一星期前有人把一位大学生基斯洛罗多夫带到我这儿来；按信念来说他是个唯物主义者，无神论者和虚无主义者，这正是为什么我要叫他来的缘故；我需要有个人最终对我说出赤裸裸的真话，不要说委婉话，也不用说客气话。他就这样做了，不仅同意并且不讲客套，甚至显然还很乐意（依我看，这就已是多余的了）。他直截了当开口就说，我还能活一个月左右；如果有好的条件，也许还能多活些日子，但是，也可能早死得多。照他的意见，我可能会突然死去，甚至，比方说，就在明天常有这样的事，就在前天科洛姆纳的一位患肺痨、情况和我相似的年轻女士打算去市场买些食品，但突然感到不舒服，躺到沙发上，叹了一口气就死了。基斯洛罗多夫告诉我这一切时甚至带着一丝炫耀自己的无动于衷和漫不经心的样子，仿佛这样是我的荣誉，也就是以此表示，他把我也看做是与他一样的否定一切的高等生物，对他来说，死当然是不值一提的事。说到底终究是明摆着的事实：还能活一个月，绝不会更多！我完全相信，他没有弄错。
使我非常惊讶的是，为什么刚才公爵会猜到我常做恶梦、他确实说过，在帕夫洛夫斯克“我的激动和梦境”都会改变。为什么说到梦境呢？他要不是医生，要不就真的是个具有非凡智力的人，能料事如神。（但是他到底是个“白痴”，这一点是没有丝毫怀疑的。）好像故意似的，就在他来到之前我做了一个好梦（不时，那也是我现在所做的几百个梦中的一个）。我睡着了（我想，是在他来前一小时），梦见我在一个房间里（但不是我的房间）。房间比我原来的要大，要高，很明亮，家具也比较好，有大衣柜，五斗柜，沙发，我的床又宽又大，铺着绿色缎面的缎被。但是在这个房间里我发现有一只可怕的动物，不知是什久怪物。它有点儿像蝎子，但不是蝎子，而更丑恶，好像正是因为大自然里没有这样的动物而可怕得多，它故意出现在我的房间里，就这一点似乎包含着某种秘密。我对它看得清楚：它是褐色带硬亮的爬虫，长约四寸，头部有两指粗，向尾部渐渐变细，因此尾巴未端不超过十分之一寸粗。在离头部一寸的地方，从躯干上成四十五度角长出两只爪子，一面一只，两寸长左右，因而从上面看的话，整只动物就是呈三叉栽状。我没有细看他的头，但看见有两根触须，不太长，状如两根硬针，也是褐色的。在尾巴尖上和每一只爪于尖上都有这样的两根触须，这样，总共是八根触须。这动物在房间里跑起来很快，就靠爪子和尾巴作支撑，跑的时候，身体和爪子像蛇一样扭动，尽管有硬壳，跑得却异常快，这样子看起来非常恶心。我害怕得不得了，怕它螫我；有八对我说，这东西有毒，但最使我感到不安的是，谁把它放到我的房间里来的，想对我干什么，这里有什么秘密？它躲到五斗柜下面，大衣橱下面，爬到角落里。我连腿一起坐到椅子上面，把腿盘在身体下面。它很快地斜穿过整个房间，在我的椅子附近消失了。我恐惧地四处察看，但因为是盘腿而坐，因此指望它不会爬到椅子上来。突然我听见在我背后，儿子就在我脑袋旁边，有一种咯吱咯吱的声音；我转过身去看见，这家伙正顺着墙壁在爬，并已经爬到齐我头高的位置，那不停旋转和扭动的尾巴甚至触及我的头发。我跳了起来，这动物也就不见了。我怕躺到床上去，求它别钻到我枕头底下。我母亲和她的一位熟人来到了我房间。他们开始捉这坏东西，但他们比我镇静，甚至不害怕。但他们什么也不懂。突然这坏家伙又爬出来了；它这次爬得很安稳，仿佛有什么特别的意图似的，缓慢地扭动着，这更加令人厌恶，它又斜穿过房间，朝门口爬去。这时我母亲打开了门，唤了一声诺尔马，这是我家的一条狗，是一条黑色长毛纽芬兰犬，五年前已经死了。它奔到房间里，一动不动地站在那坏东西上方。那家伙也停住了，但仍然扭动着，爪子和尾巴端不停地在地上发出咯吱咯吱的声响。如果我没弄错的话，动物是不会感到神秘和恐惧的；但是此刻我觉得，诺尔马的恐惧中不知怎么的仿佛有某种十分不同寻常的，也仿佛有几乎是神秘的东西，它看来也像我一样预感到，在这恶物身上有某种不祥的东西和某种秘密。诺尔马在悄悄地、小心翼翼地朝它爬来的坏东西面前慢慢地后移着；而这恶物好像想突然朝它扑去，发动突然袭击。但是尽管十分惊惧，尽管浑身打颤，诺尔马还是十分凶狠地看着它。突然它慢慢地呲出自己可怕的牙齿，张开自己的血盆大口，摆好姿势，灵巧应战，打定主意，突然用牙齿咬住了这坏东西。想必是这东西用力挣脱了，企图溜走，因而诺尔马又一次急忙把它逮住，两次张开大嘴把这东西送进口中，仍然是急急忙忙地，像是吞食它。硬壳在其牙齿问发生咯咯的碎裂声；露在嘴外的动物尾巴和爪子以快得惊人的速度动弹着。突然诺尔马发出一声悲苦的尖叫声：这恶物终究得逞螫了它的舌头。诺尔马一边尖叫和哀号，一边痛得张大了嘴，我看见，被咬碎了的恶物横在它嘴中还在动弹，它从自己一半已被咬碎的躯体里放出许多白色的毒汁在狗的舌头上，这白色的毒汁就像被压死的黑蟑螂的液汁……这时我醒来了，公爵也走讲来了。
“诸位，”伊波利特突然中断朗读，甚至感到羞愧地说，“我没有重读一遍，但好像我确实写了许多多余的东西。这个梦……”
“有一点儿，”加尼亚急忙插了一句。
“这里面个人的东西大多了、我承认，也就是有关我自己的……”说这话时，伊波利特的样子非常疲劳和衰弱，他用手帕擦去额上的汗珠，“是啊，您对自己太感兴趣了，”列别杰夫低声嘟哝说。
“诸位，我不强迫任何人，我再说一遍；谁不想听，谁可以走开。”
“在别人家里……赶人走，”罗戈任勉强可闻地埋怨着。
“要是我们大家一下子都站起来走了，怎么样？”突然费尔迪先科说。不过，到目前为止他都未敢说一句话。
伊波利特突然垂下眼睛，抓起手稿；但在同１秒钟他又抬起了头，眼睛闪亮着，脸上两团红晕，直勾勾盯着费尔迪先科说：
“您根本不喜欢我！”
响起了一片笑声；不过大部分人没有笑。伊波利特脸红得不得了。
“伊波利特，”公爵说，“合上您的手稿，把它交给我，而灯自己就在这里，在我房间里睡。睡觉前和明天我们再谈；但是无论如何，都别打开这些纸，愿意吗？”
“这难道可能吗。”伊波利特大为惊讶地望着公爵说。“诸位！”他喊了一声，又狂热地兴奋起来，“真是个笨拙的插曲，我举止不当。我不会再中断朗读了。谁想听，就听吧……”
他尽快地从茶杯里吞了一口水，尽快地把臂肘撑在桌子上，躲开别人的目光，固执地开始继续念下去。不过，羞愧很快就过去了……
不值得再活几个星期的想法（他继续念着）真正控制我，我想，约在一个月前，当时我还有四个星期可活，但是完全控制我是在三天以前，从帕夫洛夫斯克回来那天晚上起。这个念头完全、直接深入我心灵的最初那一瞬间是在公爵的露台上，正是我忽然想要做最后一次人生的尝试的那一会儿，我想看看人们和树木（就算这话是我自己说的），我情绪激动，坚持布尔多夫斯基--“我的亲近的朋友”有权利，我还幻想着他们大家会突然张开手臂，把我拥在怀里，请求我的宽恕，而我也请求他们的宽恕；总之，结果我成了个无能的傻瓜。就是在这个候我心里冒出了“最后的信念”。现在我感到很惊奇，没有这个“信念”时那整整六个月我是怎么过来的：我完全知道，我有肺病，而且已经治不好了；我不欺骗自己，清楚地明白真实情况。但是我越是清楚地了解实情，就越是拼命想活；我紧紧抓住生命，无论如何也想活下去，我承认，我当时也曾怨恨黑暗渺茫，冷寞无情的命运要把我像一只苍蝇一般压死，当然我不知道为什么；但是为什么我不就怀着怨恨而结束生命？为什么明明知道我已经不能开始生活，还真的开始了生活？为什么明明知道我已经没什么可尝试了，却还要尝试？其实我连一本书也不能看完，因此就不再看到了；看书干什么？还有六个月，知道了知识有什么用？这个念头迫使我不止一次撇下书本。
是的，这垛梅那罗夫墙可以说明许多情况！我在这上面记下了许多事情，在这垛肮脏的墙壁上没有一个斑点我会不熟悉。真是一垛可沮咒的墙！但对我来说它依然比所有帕夫洛夫斯克的树木都更宝贵，也就是说，如果我现在不是什么都无所谓的话，它应该比所有的人更宝贵。
我现在想起来，当时我是带着多么贪婪的兴趣注视看他们的生活；这样的兴趣过去是未曾有过的。在我病得不能走出房间的时候，有时候会迫不及待地骂着人等科利亚来，我深切地关注所有的小事，对各种各样的传闻满怀着兴趣，好像成了个搬弄是非的人，比如说，我不明白，这些人有着如此旺盛的生命力，怎么不会成为富翁（不过，就是现在也不明白）。我认识一个穷人，后来人家告诉我，他饿死了，我现在还记得，这使我怒不可遏：假如可以使这个穷人复活，我大概会处死他的。有时候有好几个星期我觉得轻松些，我能走到衙上去；但是街道最终又使我产生憎恶，因此整天整天故意闭门果在家里，虽燃我能像大家一样走到外面去。我无法容忍我身旁在人行道上走着的人，他们窜来钻去，忙忙碌碌，永远忧心忡忡，愁眉苦脸，惶惶不安。干什么他们永远悲伤，永远忧虑，永远忙碌；干什么他们永远抑郁寡欢，充满恼恨（因为他们凶狠、凶狠、凶狠）？虽然他们有６０年的生命，他们却不幸和不会生活，这是谁之罪？为什么扎尔尼岑还有６０年生命，却要让自己饿死？每个人都指着自己的破衣服，伸出自己做工的手，恶狠狠地高喊着；“我们像牛马一般不辞劳苦地干活，我们劳动，我们却像狗一样忍饥挨饿，受苦受穷：别人既不干活也不劳动，他们却生活富裕”（永恒的老调！）在他们旁过从早到晚奔走忙碌的还有一个“出身贵族”的不幸的可怜虫伊万·福米奇·苏科夫。他就住我们那幢房子里，住我们楼上。他永远穿着肘部磨破、掉了钮扣的衣服，他为各种各样的人跑腿当差，听命于人家的差遣委派，而且是从早到晚。您要是跟他聊天，他便会说：“贫穷、困苦、一贫如洗，妻子死了，没有钱买药，冬天冻死了一个孩子；大女儿让人养了当姘妇……”他永远诉苦，永远哭泣！哦，我对这些傻瓜无论现在还是过去都没丝毫怜悯，没有丝毫，--我可以骄傲地这么说：为什么他自己不是罗特希尔德？他不像罗特希尔招那样有百万家财，没有堆积如山的帝俄金币和拿破仑金币，没有像谢肉节货摊上堆起的吃食那样堆积如山、堆得像座高山的金币，是谁之罪呢？既然他活着，这就是说，一切都在他的掌握之中，他不懂这一点，又怪谁呢？
哦，我现在已经无所谓了，现在我已经没有时间来发火了，但当时，我再说一遍，当时我却因为气得发狂确实在夜间咬我的枕头，撕我的被子，哦，当时我多么想，多么愿意，多么故意希望有人把我，一个１８岁的青年，几乎衣不蔽体地突然赶到街上，并且撇下我孤零零一个人，没有住所，没有工作，没有一片面包，在这么大一个城无亲无故，饥肠辊辆，又挨了一顿打（这样更好！），但是身体健康，这种情况下我要显示……
显示什么？
哦，难道你们以为我不知道，就我这篇《解释》已经够伤害自己的自尊心了！嘿，现在谁不把我当作一个不懂生活的可怜虫，忘了自己已不是１８岁，忘了像我这六个月这样生活等于已经是活到白头了！但是让人家去笑话，去说这一切是童话吧。我真的是在给自己讲重话。我用它们来填满我那些通彻不眠的漫漫长夜；我现在还全都记得起来。
但是，难道现在我又来讲这些故事？现在对我来说也已经过了讲童姑故事的时期。再说讲给谁听呢？要知道当时我是用这些故事来自寻安慰的，那时我清楚地看到，连希腊语语法都禁止我学，恰好我也忽然想到：“还没等学到句法，我就会死了”，我从学第一页起就这么想，于是就把书本仍到桌于底下去了。它现在还被弃置在那儿
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 34楼  发表于: 2014-01-18 0

Part 3 Chapter 6
"I WILL not deceive you. 'Reality' got me so entrapped in its meshes now and again during the past six months, that I forgot my 'sentence' (or perhaps I did not wish to think of it), and actually busied myself with affairs.
"A word as to my circumstances. When, eight months since, I became very ill, I threw up all my old connections and dropped all my old companions. As I was always a gloomy, morose sort of individual, my friends easily forgot me; of course, they would have forgotten me all the same, without that excuse. My position at home was solitary enough. Five months ago I separated myself entirely from the family, and no one dared enter my room except at stated times, to clean and tidy it, and so on, and to bring me my meals. My mother dared not disobey me; she kept the children quiet, for my sake, and beat them if they dared to make any noise and disturb me. I so often complained of them that I should think they must be very fond, indeed, of me by this time. I think I must have tormented 'my faithful Colia' (as I called him) a good deal too. He tormented me of late; I could see that he always bore my tempers as though he had determined to 'spare the poor invalid.' This annoyed me, naturally. He seemed to have taken it into his head to imitate the prince in Christian meekness! Surikoff, who lived above us, annoyed me, too. He was so miserably poor, and I used to prove to him that he had no one to blame but himself for his poverty. I used to be so angry that I think I frightened him eventually, for he stopped coming to see me. He was a most meek and humble fellow, was Surikoff. (N.B.-- They say that meekness is a great power. I must ask the prince about this, for the expression is his.) But I remember one day in March, when I went up to his lodgings to see whether it was true that one of his children had been starved and frozen to death, I began to hold forth to him about his poverty being his own fault, and, in the course of my remarks, I accidentally smiled at the corpse of his child. Well, the poor wretch's lips began to tremble, and he caught me by the shoulder, and pushed me to the door. 'Go out,' he said, in a whisper. I went out, of course, and I declare I LIKED it. I liked it at the very moment when I was turned out. But his words filled me with a strange sort of feeling of disdainful pity for him whenever I thought of them--a feeling which I did not in the least desire to entertain. At the very moment of the insult (for I admit that I did insult him, though I did not mean to), this man could not lose his temper. His lips had trembled, but I swear it was not with rage. He had taken me by the arm, and said, 'Go out,' without the least anger. There was dignity, a great deal of dignity, about him, and it was so inconsistent with the look of him that, I assure you, it was quite comical. But there was no anger. Perhaps he merely began to despise me at that moment.
"Since that time he has always taken off his hat to me on the stairs, whenever I met him, which is a thing he never did before; but he always gets away from me as quickly as he can, as though he felt confused. If he did despise me, he despised me 'meekly,' after his own fashion.
"I dare say he only took his hat off out of fear, as it were, to the son of his creditor; for he always owed my mother money. I thought of having an explanation with him, but I knew that if I did, he would begin to apologize in a minute or two, so I decided to let him alone.
"Just about that time, that is, the middle of March, I suddenly felt very much better; this continued for a couple of weeks. I used to go out at dusk. I like the dusk, especially in March, when the night frost begins to harden the day's puddles, and the gas is burning.
"Well, one night in the Shestilavochnaya, a man passed me with a paper parcel under his arm. I did not take stock of him very carefully, but he seemed to be dressed in some shabby summer dust-coat, much too light for the season. When he was opposite the lamp-post, some ten yards away, I observed something fall out of his pocket. I hurried forward to pick it up, just in time, for an old wretch in a long kaftan rushed up too. He did not dispute the matter, but glanced at what was in my hand and disappeared.
"It was a large old-fashioned pocket-book, stuffed full; but I guessed, at a glance, that it had anything in the world inside it, except money.
"The owner was now some forty yards ahead of me, and was very soon lost in the crowd. I ran after him, and began calling out; but as I knew nothing to say excepting 'hey!' he did not turn round. Suddenly he turned into the gate of a house to the left; and when I darted in after him, the gateway was so dark that I could see nothing whatever. It was one of those large houses built in small tenements, of which there must have been at least a hundred.
"When I entered the yard I thought I saw a man going along on the far side of it; but it was so dark I could not make out his figure.
"I crossed to that corner and found a dirty dark staircase. I heard a man mounting up above me, some way higher than I was, and thinking I should catch him before his door would be opened to him, I rushed after him. I heard a door open and shut on the fifth storey, as I panted along; the stairs were narrow, and the steps innumerable, but at last I reached the door I thought the right one. Some moments passed before I found the bell and got it to ring.
"An old peasant woman opened the door; she was busy lighting the 'samovar' in a tiny kitchen. She listened silently to my questions, did not understand a word, of course, and opened another door leading into a little bit of a room, low and scarcely furnished at all, but with a large, wide bed in it, hung with curtains. On this bed lay one Terentich, as the woman called him, drunk, it appeared to me. On the table was an end of candle in an iron candlestick, and a half-bottle of vodka, nearly finished. Terentich muttered something to me, and signed towards the next room. The old woman had disappeared, so there was nothing for me to do but to open the door indicated. I did so, and entered the next room.
"This was still smaller than the other, so cramped that I could scarcely turn round; a narrow single bed at one side took up nearly all the room. Besides the bed there were only three common chairs, and a wretched old kitchen-table standing before a small sofa. One could hardly squeeze through between the table and the bed.
"On the table, as in the other room, burned a tallow candle-end in an iron candlestick; and on the bed there whined a baby of scarcely three weeks old. A pale-looking woman was dressing the child, probably the mother; she looked as though she had not as yet got over the trouble of childbirth, she seemed so weak and was so carelessly dressed. Another child, a little girl of about three years old, lay on the sofa, covered over with what looked like a man's old dress-coat.
"At the table stood a man in his shirt sleeves; he had thrown off his coat; it lay upon the bed; and he was unfolding a blue paper parcel in which were a couple of pounds of bread, and some little sausages.
"On the table along with these things were a few old bits of black bread, and some tea in a pot. From under the bed there protruded an open portmanteau full of bundles of rags. In a word, the confusion and untidiness of the room were indescribable.
"It appeared to me, at the first glance, that both the man and the woman were respectable people, but brought to that pitch of poverty where untidiness seems to get the better of every effort to cope with it, till at last they take a sort of bitter satisfaction in it. When I entered the room, the man, who had entered but a moment before me, and was still unpacking his parcels, was saying something to his wife in an excited manner. The news was apparently bad, as usual, for the woman began whimpering. The man's face seemed tome to be refined and even pleasant. He was dark-complexioned, and about twenty-eight years of age; he wore black whiskers, and his lip and chin were shaved. He looked morose, but with a sort of pride of expression. A curious scene followed.
"There are people who find satisfaction in their own touchy feelings, especially when they have just taken the deepest offence; at such moments they feel that they would rather be offended than not. These easily-ignited natures, if they are wise, are always full of remorse afterwards, when they reflect that they have been ten times as angry as they need have been.
"The gentleman before me gazed at me for some seconds in amazement, and his wife in terror; as though there was something alarmingly extraordinary in the fact that anyone could come to see them. But suddenly he fell upon me almost with fury; I had had no time to mutter more than a couple of words; but he had doubtless observed that I was decently dressed and, therefore, took deep offence because I had dared enter his den so unceremoniously, and spy out the squalor and untidiness of it.
"Of course he was delighted to get hold of someone upon whom to vent his rage against things in general.
"For a moment I thought he would assault me; he grew so pale that he looked like a woman about to have hysterics; his wife was dreadfully alarmed.
"'How dare you come in so? Be off!' he shouted, trembling all over with rage and scarcely able to articulate the words. Suddenly, however, he observed his pocketbook in my hand.
"'I think you dropped this,' I remarked, as quietly and drily as I could. (I thought it best to treat him so.) For some while he stood before me in downright terror, and seemed unable to understand. He then suddenly grabbed at his side-pocket, opened his mouth in alarm, and beat his forehead with his hand.
"'My God!' he cried, 'where did you find it? How?' I explained in as few words as I could, and as drily as possible, how I had seen it and picked it up; how I had run after him, and called out to him, and how I had followed him upstairs and groped my way to his door.
"'Gracious Heaven!' he cried, 'all our papers are in it! My dear sir, you little know what you have done for us. I should have been lost--lost!'
"I had taken hold of the door-handle meanwhile, intending to leave the room without reply; but I was panting with my run upstairs, and my exhaustion came to a climax in a violent fit of coughing, so bad that I could hardly stand.
"I saw how the man dashed about the room to find me an empty chair, how he kicked the rags off a chair which was covered up by them, brought it to me, and helped me to sit down; but my cough went on for another three minutes or so. When I came to myself he was sitting by me on another chair, which he had also cleared of the rubbish by throwing it all over the floor, and was watching me intently.
"'I'm afraid you are ill?' he remarked, in the tone which doctors use when they address a patient. 'I am myself a medical man' (he did not say 'doctor'), with which words he waved his hands towards the room and its contents as though in protest at his present condition. 'I see that you--'
"'I'm in consumption,' I said laconically, rising from my seat.
He jumped up, too.
"'Perhaps you are exaggerating--if you were to take proper measures perhaps--"
"He was terribly confused and did not seem able to collect his scattered senses; the pocket-book was still in his left hand.
"'Oh, don't mind me,' I said. 'Dr. B-- saw me last week' (I lugged him in again), 'and my hash is quite settled; pardon me-' I took hold of the door-handle again. I was on the point of opening the door and leaving my grateful but confused medical friend to himself and his shame, when my damnable cough got hold of me again.
"My doctor insisted on my sitting down again to get my breath. He now said something to his wife who, without leaving her place, addressed a few words of gratitude and courtesy to me. She seemed very shy over it, and her sickly face flushed up with confusion. I remained, but with the air of a man who knows he is intruding and is anxious to get away. The doctor's remorse at last seemed to need a vent, I could see.
"'If I--' he began, breaking off abruptly every other moment, and starting another sentence. 'I-I am so very grateful to you, and I am so much to blame in your eyes, I feel sure, I--you see--' (he pointed to the room again) 'at this moment I am in such a position-'
"'Oh!' I said, 'there's nothing to see; it's quite a clear case-- you've lost your post and have come up to make explanations and get another, if you can!'
"'How do you know that?' he asked in amazement.
"'Oh, it was evident at the first glance,' I said ironically, but not intentionally so. 'There are lots of people who come up from the provinces full of hope, and run about town, and have to live as best they can.'
"He began to talk at once excitedly and with trembling lips; he began complaining and telling me his story. He interested me, I confess; I sat there nearly an hour. His story was a very ordinary one. He had been a provincial doctor; he had a civil appointment, and had no sooner taken it up than intrigues began. Even his wife was dragged into these. He was proud, and flew into a passion; there was a change of local government which acted in favour of his opponents; his position was undermined, complaints were made against him; he lost his post and came up to Petersburg with his last remaining money, in order to appeal to higher authorities. Of course nobody would listen to him for a long time; he would come and tell his story one day and be refused promptly; another day he would be fed on false promises; again he would be treated harshly; then he would be told to sign some documents; then he would sign the paper and hand it in, and they would refuse to receive it, and tell him to file a formal petition. In a word he had been driven about from office to office for five months and had spent every farthing he had; his wife's last rags had just been pawned; and meanwhile a child had been born to them and--and today I have a final refusal to my petition, and I have hardly a crumb of bread left--I have nothing left; my wife has had a baby lately--and I-I--'
"He sprang up from his chair and turned away. His wife was crying in the corner; the child had begun to moan again. I pulled out my note-book and began writing in it. When I had finished and rose from my chair he was standing before me with an expression of alarmed curiosity.
"'I have jotted down your name,' I told him, 'and all the rest of it--the place you served at, the district, the date, and all. I have a friend, Bachmatoff, whose uncle is a councillor of state and has to do with these matters, one Peter Matveyevitch Bachmatoff.'
"'Peter Matveyevitch Bachmatoff!' he cried, trembling all over with excitement. 'Why, nearly everything depends on that very man!'
"It is very curious, this story of the medical man, and my visit, and the happy termination to which I contributed by accident! Everything fitted in, as in a novel. I told the poor people not to put much hope in me, because I was but a poor schoolboy myself-- (I am not really, but I humiliated myself as much as possible in order to make them less hopeful)--but that I would go at once to the Vassili Ostroff and see my friend; and that as I knew for certain that his uncle adored him, and was absolutely devoted to him as the last hope and branch of the family, perhaps the old man might do something to oblige his nephew.
"'If only they would allow me to explain all to his excellency! If I could but be permitted to tell my tale to him!" he cried, trembling with feverish agitation, and his eyes flashing with excitement. I repeated once more that I could not hold out much hope--that it would probably end in smoke, and if I did not turn up next morning they must make up their minds that there was no more to be done in the matter.
"They showed me out with bows and every kind of respect; they seemed quite beside themselves. I shall never forget the expression of their faces!
"I took a droshky and drove over to the Vassili Ostroff at once. For some years I had been at enmity with this young Bachmatoff, at school. We considered him an aristocrat; at all events I called him one. He used to dress smartly, and always drove to school in a private trap. He was a good companion, and was always merry and jolly, sometimes even witty, though he was not very intellectual, in spite of the fact that he was always top of the class; I myself was never top in anything! All his companions were very fond of him, excepting myself. He had several times during those years come up to me and tried to make friends; but I had always turned sulkily away and refused to have anything to do with him. I had not seen him for a whole year now; he was at the university. When, at nine o'clock, or so, this evening, I arrived and was shown up to him with great ceremony, he first received me with astonishment, and not too affably, but he soon cheered up, and suddenly gazed intently at me and burst out laughing.
"'Why, what on earth can have possessed you to come and see ME, Terentieff?' he cried, with his usual pleasant, sometimes audacious, but never offensive familiarity, which I liked in reality, but for which I also detested him. 'Why what's the matter?' he cried in alarm. 'Are you ill?'
"That confounded cough of mine had come on again; I fell into a chair, and with difficulty recovered my breath. 'It's all right, it's only consumption' I said. 'I have come to you with a petition!'
"He sat down in amazement, and I lost no time in telling him the medical man's history; and explained that he, with the influence which he possessed over his uncle, might do some good to the poor fellow.
"'I'll do it--I'll do it, of course!' he said. 'I shall attack my uncle about it tomorrow morning, and I'm very glad you told me the story. But how was it that you thought of coming to me about it, Terentieff?'
"'So much depends upon your uncle,' I said. 'And besides we have always been enemies, Bachmatoff; and as you are a generous sort of fellow, I thought you would not refuse my request because I was your enemy!' I added with irony.
"'Like Napoleon going to England, eh?' cried he, laughing. 'I'll do it though--of course, and at once, if I can!' he added, seeing that I rose seriously from my chair at this point.
"And sure enough the matter ended as satisfactorily as possible. A month or so later my medical friend was appointed to another post. He got his travelling expenses paid, and something to help him to start life with once more. I think Bachmatoff must have persuaded the doctor to accept a loan from himself. I saw Bachmatoff two or three times, about this period, the third time being when he gave a farewell dinner to the doctor and his wife before their departure, a champagne dinner.
"Bachmatoff saw me home after the dinner and we crossed the Nicolai bridge. We were both a little drunk. He told me of his joy, the joyful feeling of having done a good action; he said that it was all thanks to myself that he could feel this satisfaction; and held forth about the foolishness of the theory that individual charity is useless
"I, too, was burning to have my say!
"'In Moscow,' I said, 'there was an old state counsellor, a civil general, who, all his life, had been in the habit of visiting the prisons and speaking to criminals. Every party of convicts on its way to Siberia knew beforehand that on the Vorobeef Hills the "old general" would pay them a visit. He did all he undertook seriously and devotedly. He would walk down the rows of the unfortunate prisoners, stop before each individual and ask after his needs--he never sermonized them; he spoke kindly to them--he gave them money; he brought them all sorts of necessaries for the journey, and gave them devotional books, choosing those who could read, under the firm conviction that they would read to those who could not, as they went along.
"'He scarcely ever talked about the particular crimes of any of them, but listened if any volunteered information on that point. All the convicts were equal for him, and he made no distinction. He spoke to all as to brothers, and every one of them looked upon him as a father. When he observed among the exiles some poor woman with a child, he would always come forward and fondle the little one, and make it laugh. He continued these acts of mercy up to his very death; and by that time all the criminals, all over Russia and Siberia, knew him!
"'A man I knew who had been to Siberia and returned, told me that he himself had been a witness of how the very most hardened criminals remembered the old general, though, in point of fact, he could never, of course, have distributed more than a few pence to each member of a party. Their recollection of him was not sentimental or particularly devoted. Some wretch, for instance, who had been a murderer--cutting the throat of a dozen fellow- creatures, for instance; or stabbing six little children for his own amusement (there have been such men!)--would perhaps, without rhyme or reason, suddenly give a sigh and say, "I wonder whether that old general is alive still!" Although perhaps he had not thought of mentioning him for a dozen years before! How can one say what seed of good may have been dropped into his soul, never to die?'
"I continued in that strain for a long while, pointing out to Bachmatoff how impossible it is to follow up the effects of any isolated good deed one may do, in all its influences and subtle workings upon the heart and after-actions of others.
"'And to think that you are to be cut off from life!' remarked Bachmatoff, in a tone of reproach, as though he would like to find someone to pitch into on my account.
"We were leaning over the balustrade of the bridge, looking into the Neva at this moment.
"'Do you know what has suddenly come into my head?' said I, suddenly--leaning further and further over the rail.
"'Surely not to throw yourself into the river?' cried Bachmatoff in alarm. Perhaps he read my thought in my face.
"'No, not yet. At present nothing but the following consideration. You see I have some two or three months left me to live--perhaps four; well, supposing that when I have but a month or two more, I take a fancy for some "good deed" that needs both trouble and time, like this business of our doctor friend, for instance: why, I shall have to give up the idea of it and take to something else--some LITTLE good deed, MORE WITHIN MY MEANS, eh? Isn't that an amusing idea!'
"Poor Bachmatoff was much impressed--painfully so. He took me all the way home; not attempting to console me, but behaving with the greatest delicacy. On taking leave he pressed my hand warmly and asked permission to come and see me. I replied that if he came to me as a 'comforter,' so to speak (for he would be in that capacity whether he spoke to me in a soothing manner or only kept silence, as I pointed out to him), he would but remind me each time of my approaching death! He shrugged his shoulders, but quite agreed with me; and we parted better friends than I had expected.
"But that evening and that night were sown the first seeds of my 'last conviction.' I seized greedily on my new idea; I thirstily drank in all its different aspects (I did not sleep a wink that night!), and the deeper I went into it the more my being seemed to merge itself in it, and the more alarmed I became. A dreadful terror came over me at last, and did not leave me all next day.
"Sometimes, thinking over this, I became quite numb with the terror of it; and I might well have deduced from this fact, that my 'last conviction' was eating into my being too fast and too seriously, and would undoubtedly come to its climax before long. And for the climax I needed greater determination than I yet possessed.
"However, within three weeks my determination was taken, owing to a very strange circumstance.
"Here on my paper, I make a note of all the figures and dates that come into my explanation. Of course, it is all the same to me, but just now--and perhaps only at this moment--I desire that all those who are to judge of my action should see clearly out of how logical a sequence of deductions has at length proceeded my 'last conviction.'
"I have said above that the determination needed by me for the accomplishment of my final resolve, came to hand not through any sequence of causes, but thanks to a certain strange circumstance which had perhaps no connection whatever with the matter at issue. Ten days ago Rogojin called upon me about certain business of his own with which I have nothing to do at present. I had never seen Rogojin before, but had often heard about him.
"I gave him all the information he needed, and he very soon took his departure; so that, since he only came for the purpose of gaining the information, the matter might have been expected to end there.
"But he interested me too much, and all that day I was under the influence of strange thoughts connected with him, and I determined to return his visit the next day.
"Rogojin was evidently by no means pleased to see me, and hinted, delicately, that he saw no reason why our acquaintance should continue. For all that, however, I spent a very interesting hour, and so, I dare say, did he. There was so great a contrast between us that I am sure we must both have felt it; anyhow, I felt it acutely. Here was I, with my days numbered, and he, a man in the full vigour of life, living in the present, without the slightest thought for 'final convictions,' or numbers, or days, or, in fact, for anything but that which-which--well, which he was mad about, if he will excuse me the expression--as a feeble author who cannot express his ideas properly.
"In spite of his lack of amiability, I could not help seeing, in Rogojin a man of intellect and sense; and although, perhaps, there was little in the outside world which was of. interest to him, still he was clearly a man with eyes to see.
"I hinted nothing to him about my 'final conviction,' but it appeared to me that he had guessed it from my words. He remained silent--he is a terribly silent man. I remarked to him, as I rose to depart, that, in spite of the contrast and the wide differences between us two, les extremites se touchent ('extremes meet,' as I explained to him in Russian); so that maybe he was not so far from my final conviction as appeared.
"His only reply to this was a sour grimace. He rose and looked for my cap, and placed it in my hand, and led me out of the house--that dreadful gloomy house of his--to all appearances, of course, as though I were leaving of my own accord, and he were simply seeing me to the door out of politeness. His house impressed me much; it is like a burial-ground, he seems to like it, which is, however, quite natural. Such a full life as he leads is so overflowing with absorbing interests that he has little need of assistance from his surroundings.
"The visit to Rogojin exhausted me terribly. Besides, I had felt ill since the morning; and by evening I was so weak that I took to my bed, and was in high fever at intervals, and even delirious. Colia sat with me until eleven o'clock.
"Yet I remember all he talked about, and every word we said, though whenever my eyes closed for a moment I could picture nothing but the image of Surikoff just in the act of finding a million roubles. He could not make up his mind what to do with the money, and tore his hair over it. He trembled with fear that somebody would rob him, and at last he decided to bury it in the ground. I persuaded him that, instead of putting it all away uselessly underground, he had better melt it down and make a golden coffin out of it for his starved child, and then dig up the little one and put her into the golden coffin. Surikoff accepted this suggestion, I thought, with tears of gratitude, and immediately commenced to carry out my design.
"I thought I spat on the ground and left him in disgust. Colia told me, when I quite recovered my senses, that I had not been asleep for a moment, but that I had spoken to him about Surikoff the whole while.
"At moments I was in a state of dreadful weakness and misery, so that Colia was greatly disturbed when he left me.
"When I arose to lock the door after him, I suddenly called to mind a picture I had noticed at Rogojin's in one of his gloomiest rooms, over the door. He had pointed it out to me himself as we walked past it, and I believe I must have stood a good five minutes in front of it. There was nothing artistic about it, but the picture made me feel strangely uncomfortable. It represented Christ just taken down from the cross. It seems to me that painters as a rule represent the Saviour, both on the cross and taken down from it, with great beauty still upon His face. This marvellous beauty they strive to preserve even in His moments of deepest agony and passion. But there was no such beauty in Rogojin's picture. This was the presentment of a poor mangled body which had evidently suffered unbearable anguish even before its crucifixion, full of wounds and bruises, marks of the violence of soldiers and people, and of the bitterness of the moment when He had fallen with the cross--all this combined with the anguish of the actual crucifixion.
"The face was depicted as though still suffering; as though the body, only just dead, was still almost quivering with agony. The picture was one of pure nature, for the face was not beautified by the artist, but was left as it would naturally be, whosoever the sufferer, after such anguish.
"I know that the earliest Christian faith taught that the Saviour suffered actually and not figuratively, and that nature was allowed her own way even while His body was on the cross.
"It is strange to look on this dreadful picture of the mangled corpse of the Saviour, and to put this question to oneself: 'Supposing that the disciples, the future apostles, the women who had followed Him and stood by the cross, all of whom believed in and worshipped Him--supposing that they saw this tortured body, this face so mangled and bleeding and bruised (and they MUST have so seen it)--how could they have gazed upon the dreadful sight and yet have believed that He would rise again?'
"The thought steps in, whether one likes it or no, that death is so terrible and so powerful, that even He who conquered it in His miracles during life was unable to triumph over it at the last. He who called to Lazarus, 'Lazarus, come forth!' and the dead man lived--He was now Himself a prey to nature and death. Nature appears to one, looking at this picture, as some huge, implacable, dumb monster; or still better--a stranger simile--some enormous mechanical engine of modern days which has seized and crushed and swallowed up a great and invaluable Being, a Being worth nature and all her laws, worth the whole earth, which was perhaps created merely for the sake of the advent of that Being.
"This blind, dumb, implacable, eternal, unreasoning force is well shown in the picture, and the absolute subordination of all men and things to it is so well expressed that the idea unconsciously arises in the mind of anyone who looks at it. All those faithful people who were gazing at the cross and its mutilated occupant must have suffered agony of mind that evening; for they must have felt that all their hopes and almost all their faith had been shattered at a blow. They must have separated in terror and dread that night, though each perhaps carried away with him one great thought which was never eradicated from his mind for ever afterwards. If this great Teacher of theirs could have seen Himself after the Crucifixion, how could He have consented to mount the Cross and to die as He did? This thought also comes into the mind of the man who gazes at this picture. I thought of all this by snatches probably between my attacks of delirium--for an hour and a half or so before Colia's departure.
"Can there be an appearance of that which has no form? And yet it seemed to me, at certain moments, that I beheld in some strange and impossible form, that dark, dumb, irresistibly powerful, eternal force.
"I thought someone led me by the hand and showed me, by the light of a candle, a huge, loathsome insect, which he assured me was that very force, that very almighty, dumb, irresistible Power, and laughed at the indignation with which I received this information. In my room they always light the little lamp before my icon for the night; it gives a feeble flicker of light, but it is strong enough to see by dimly, and if you sit just under it you can even read by it. I think it was about twelve or a little past that night. I had not slept a wink, and was lying with my eyes wide open, when suddenly the door opened, and in came Rogojin.
"He entered, and shut the door behind him. Then he silently gazed at me and went quickly to the corner of the room where the lamp was burning and sat down underneath it.
"I was much surprised, and looked at him expectantly.
"Rogojin only leaned his elbow on the table and silently stared at me. So passed two or three minutes, and I recollect that his silence hurt and offended me very much. Why did he not speak?
"That his arrival at this time of night struck me as more or less strange may possibly be the case; but I remember I was by no means amazed at it. On the contrary, though I had not actually told him my thought in the morning, yet I know he understood it; and this thought was of such a character that it would not be anything very remarkable, if one were to come for further talk about it at any hour of night, however late.
"I thought he must have come for this purpose.
"In the morning we had parted not the best of friends; I remember he looked at me with disagreeable sarcasm once or twice; and this same look I observed in his eyes now--which was the cause of the annoyance I felt.
"I did not for a moment suspect that I was delirious and that this Rogojin was but the result of fever and excitement. I had not the slightest idea of such a theory at first.
"Meanwhile he continued to sit and stare jeeringly at me.
"I angrily turned round in bed and made up my mind that I would not say a word unless he did; so I rested silently on my pillow determined to remain dumb, if it were to last till morning. I felt resolved that he should speak first. Probably twenty minutes or so passed in this way. Suddenly the idea struck me--what if this is an apparition and not Rogojin himself?
"Neither during my illness nor at any previous time had I ever seen an apparition;--but I had always thought, both when I was a little boy, and even now, that if I were to see one I should die on the spot--though I don't believe in ghosts. And yet NOW, when the idea struck me that this was a ghost and not Rogojin at all, I was not in the least alarmed. Nay--the thought actually irritated me. Strangely enough, the decision of the question as to whether this were a ghost or Rogojin did not, for some reason or other, interest me nearly so much as it ought to have done;--I think I began to muse about something altogether different. For instance, I began to wonder why Rogojin, who had been in dressing--gown and slippers when I saw him at home, had now put on a dress-coat and white waistcoat and tie? I also thought to myself, I remember--'if this is a ghost, and I am not afraid of it, why don't I approach it and verify my suspicions? Perhaps I am afraid--' And no sooner did this last idea enter my head than an icy blast blew over me; I felt a chill down my backbone and my knees shook.
"At this very moment, as though divining my thoughts, Rogojin raised his head from his arm and began to part his lips as though he were going to laugh--but he continued to stare at me as persistently as before.
"I felt so furious with him at this moment that I longed to rush at him; but as I had sworn that he should speak first, I continued to lie still--and the more willingly, as I was still by no means satisfied as to whether it really was Rogojin or not.
"I cannot remember how long this lasted; I cannot recollect, either, whether consciousness forsook me at intervals, or not. But at last Rogojin rose, staring at me as intently as ever, but not smiling any longer,--and walking very softly, almost on tip- toes, to the door, he opened it, went out, and shut it behind him.
"I did not rise from my bed, and I don't know how long I lay with my eyes open, thinking. I don't know what I thought about, nor how I fell asleep or became insensible; but I awoke next morning after nine o'clock when they knocked at my door. My general orders are that if I don't open the door and call, by nine o'clock, Matreona is to come and bring my tea. When I now opened the door to her, the thought suddenly struck me--how could he have come in, since the door was locked? I made inquiries and found that Rogojin himself could not possibly have come in, because all our doors were locked for the night.
"Well, this strange circumstance--which I have described with so much detail--was the ultimate cause which led me to taking my final determination. So that no logic, or logical deductions, had anything to do with my resolve;--it was simply a matter of disgust.
"It was impossible for me to go on living when life was full of such detestable, strange, tormenting forms. This ghost had humiliated me;--nor could I bear to be subordinate to that dark, horrible force which was embodied in the form of the loathsome insect. It was only towards evening, when I had quite made up my mind on this point, that I began to feel easier.

我不想撒谎：这六个月里现实把我钩上了钩，有时候使我醉心得忘了我己被判了死刑，或者；最好说，使我不想去想这一点，甚至还做点事情。顺便谈谈我当时的情况。八个月前我病很重的时候，我断绝一切交往，撇下了我过去所有的同伴。因为我一直是个相当阴郁的人，所以同伴们也很容易就忘了我；当然，没有这一点他们也会忘掉我的。在家里我的处境，也就是在家庭里的处境，也是很孤独的，五个月前我把自己永远锁在里面，把自己跟家里的房间完全隔离开来。他们常常听我的，谁也不敢走进我的房间，除了在一定的时间来收拾房间和给我送餐。母亲在我的命令前总是战战兢兢，当我有时候决定放她进来时，她甚至不敢在我面前哭鼻子。为了我她经常打孩子们，不许他们喧闹，不许他们骚扰我；我真的常常抱怨他们发出的叫嚷声；想必，因此他们现在不喜．欢我！“忠实的科利亚，”我这么叫唤他，我想，我也把他折磨得够了。近来他也折磨我；这一切是自然的，之所以创造人，就是为了互相折磨。但是我发现，他是受我的焦躁易怒，仿佛事先就对自己立下誓言要宽恕一个病人；自然，这惹得我生气；但是，他好像忽然想出来要模仿公爵的“基督式的克制忍让”，这已经有点可笑了。这是个年轻，热情的男孩，当然，他模仿一切；但我有时觉得他应该用自己的头脑来生活。我很喜欢他。我也折磨苏里科夫，他住在我们楼上，从早到晚为人家的委托跑腿；我经常向他证明，他贫穷是他自己的过错，因此终于把他吓坏了，便不再上我这里来了，这是个很温顺的人，温顺到极点的人（注意：据说，温顺是一种可怕的力量；应该向公爵询问一下这个问题，这是他自己的说法）；但是，当我三月份上楼到他那儿去想看看，他们那里是怎么“冻死”（这是他的活）孩子的，我无意间对他婴儿的尸体发出一声冷笑，因为我又开始向苏里科夫解释，这是他“自己的过错”，而这个瘦小的可怜虫突然双唇哆嗦起来，一只手抓住了我的肩胯，另一只手向我指着门口，轻轻地，也就是几乎是低语着对我说：“请走吧！”我走了出来，我很喜欢这样，甚至喜欢他赶我出来那一会儿；但是后来回想起来时，他的话久久地使我产生一种沉重的印象，对他有一种奇怪的轻蔑的怜悯，而我本来是完全不想体受这种感情的。甚至在受到这样侮辱的时刻（我可是感到，我侮辱了他，虽然我并没有这种意图），甚至在这样的时刻这个人也不会发火！他当时嘴唇哆嗦完全不是因为愤恨，我可以发誓：他抓住我的手，说出那句绝妙的“请走吧”，绝对不是生气，尊严是有的，甚至溢于言表，甚至完全于他不相称（因此，说真的，这里有许多滑稽的东西），但是没有愤恨。也许，他不过是突然蔑视起我来了。从那时起，有两三次我在楼梯上遇见他，他突然在我面前摘下帽子，过去是从来不这样做的，但已经不再像过去那样停下来，而是不好意思地跑了过去。即使他蔑视我，那也仍然是用他的方式：“温顺地蔑视”。也许，他摘下帽子不过是出于害怕，是向自己女债主的儿子致意，因为他经常欠我母亲的钱，怎么也无法摆脱债务。这甚至是最可能的情况。我本想跟他解释，同时我肯定，过了１０分钟他便会来向我请求原谅；但我考虑，最好还是不去碰他。
就在这个时候，也就是苏里科夫“冻死”小孩那个时候，３月中光景，我忽然不知怎么感到病情轻多了，这种状况继续了两星期。我开始到外面走走，往在是在黄昏时分。我喜欢３月的黄昏，那时白天的气温开始变寒冷，煤气街灯也点亮了；有时我走得相当远。有一次，在六铺街有一个“贵族”模样的人黑暗中赶过了我，我未能看清楚他；他拿着纸包起来的一包东西，穿着一件短小难看的夹大衣－－单薄得跟季节不相称。当他走到我前面１０步远的街灯下时，我发现，有东西从他口袋里掉了出来。我急忙捡起来，捡得很及时，因为已经有一个穿长褂的人急急跑近前来，但是看见我手中的东西后，他没有争论，只是迅速地瞥了一眼我手中的东西，就从身边溜走了。这件东西是一只塞得鼓鼓囊囊的老式山羊皮大钱包；但不知为什么第一眼我就猜到，里面什么都有，唯独没有钱。丢了东西的行人已经走在我前面有４０步远并很快就消失在人群中。我跑上前去向他叫喊；但是因为除了“喂！”没别的可喊叫，因此他都没有转过身来。忽然他向左一扬，进了一幢房子的大门。等我跑进黑乎平的大门，已经不见人影。这幢房子非常大，是一座庞大的建筑，这类房子是冒险投机家为租给小户人家建造的，这种大楼有时一幢里有上百套住宅。当我军过大门后，我觉得，在大院子右后角落里仿佛有一个人在行走，不过在黑暗中我勉强才能看清楚。我跑到角落，看见有个进口通注楼梯。楼梯很窄，异常肮脏，根本没有灯光；但是可以听到，在高处还有个人顺着梯级往上跑，于是我也开始登楼梯，估计在人家给他开问的时候，我能赶上他。结果正是这样。楼梯每一段都很短，有多少段都数不清，因此我气喘得要命；在五楼有人开了门又关了门，我知道这一点时还差三段楼梯。等我跑到上面，在楼梯口平息一下气喘，找寻门铃，已经过了好几分钟。终于给我开了门，开门的是一个在小厨房里吹茶炊的女人；她默默地听完我的问题，当然，什么也没听懂，又默默地为我打开了通向隔壁一问房间的门，房间也很小，低矮得不得了，有几件必要的蹩脚家具，挂着帘幔的一张又宽又大的床，床上躺着“捷连季伊奇” （女人这么喊他），我觉得，他喝醉了。桌上铁制小灯台上的蜡烛头即将燃尽。一只半俄升的瓶子几乎已经倒空。捷连季伊奇躺着对我哼哼哈哈说了些什么，朝隔壁一扇门挥了下手，而那个女人已经走开了，因此我没有别的办法，只能去开那扇门。我这样做了，走进了另一个房间。
这个房间比前面那一问更窄小拥挤，因此我甚至不知道什么地方可以转身；角落里一张窄小的单人床占去了很多地方；其余的家具一共就是三把堆满了各种破衣服的普通椅子，漆布面的沙发前一张极普通的厨房用的木桌，因此在桌子和床之间人几乎已经无法通过。在桌上和前面那个房间一样的铁制小灯台上点着一根脂油做的蜡烛，而在床上一个很小的婴儿在细声啼哭，从哭声来看，大概生下来才三个星期；替他“更换”，也就是换尿布的是一个脸色苍白的有病的女人，好像还年轻，穿看极为随便的家常衣服，也许是产后刚开始起床；但孩子一个劲地哭个不停，等着喂他干枯的乳汁。沙发上睡着另一个孩子，是个３岁的小姑娘，好像盖着一件燕尾服：在桌旁站着一位穿着很破旧的带礼服的先生（他已经脱下了大衣，放在床上），正打开蓝色的纸包，里面包着两俄磅小麦面包和两根小香肠。此外，桌上还有一壶茶和凡块黑面包；床底下露出一只未上锁的箱子和装着一些破旧衣服的两个包裹。
总之，一派杂乱无常的景象。瞧上一眼我就觉得他们两人－－先生和太太－－是正派人，但是被贫穷弄到有失尊严的境地，以致杂乱无章终于压倒了一切与之作斗争的尝试，甚至把人弄到痛苦地需要在这种与日俱增的杂乱无章中寻找某种痛苦的仿佛向谁报复似的快感。
我走进去时，在我前面也是才进去并刚打开自己食品的这位先生正跟妻子又快又热烈地交谈着什么；虽然那女的还没换好尿布，可是已经哭泣起来；想必丈夫告诉的照例是坏消息。这位先生看样子有２８岁左右，他脸容干枯，围着一圈连鬓黑胡子，下巴刮得精尤，使我觉得相当体面，甚至今人喜欢；这张脸很抑郁，目光也阴沉，带有一种病态的十分容易被激怒的傲气，我走进去后，就发生了一场奇怪的风波。
有些人在自己好激动生气、易受委屈中获得一种异常的满足，尤其是在他那里受委屈达到最大限度的时候是这样（这总是发生得很快的）；在这种时刻甚至受委屈比不受委屈对他们来说好像觉得更痛快。这些易发火的人后来总是十分悔恨，痛苦异常，当然，如果他们是有头脑的人，能够明白他们发火超过了必要的十倍。这位先生谅异地望了我一会，而他妻子则很惊惧，仿佛有人会走进他们的房间是件令人可怕的奇事；但是突然他几乎是发狂似地扑向我；而我还没有来得及说上两句话，尤其在看到我穿得很体面时，想必他认为自己受到了莫大的侮辱，因为我竟敢如此不讲礼貌地窥看每一个角落并看见了他自己为此感到羞愧的整个杂乱无章的环境。当然，他也高兴有机会哪怕是对随便什么人发泄自己的愤恨，发泄自己的不走运，有一会儿我甚至以为他会过来要打架；他脸色发白，就像要人歇斯底里发作那样，把他妻子吓坏了。
“您怎么竟敢就这么走进来了？滚！”他嚷着，浑身打着颤，几乎说不出话来。但突然他看见了我手中拿着他的钱包。
“好像是您失落的，”我尽可能平静和平地说。（不过，也应该这样。）
他站在我面前惊恐慌万状，一度仿佛６都不明白；后来迅即抓住自己的侧袋，吓得张大了嘴，用手拍了一下脑门。
“天哪！您在什么地方找到的？怎么找到的？”
我用最简短的话，尽量更平淡地说明，怎么捡起钱包，怎么奔跑和叫他，最后，怎么凭猜测，跟在他后面几乎是摸索着上了楼梯。
“哦，天哪！”他转向妻子发出一声惊叹，“这里有我们的全部证件，有我最后的一些器械，这里有所有的……哦，亲爱的先生，您知道吗，您为我做了什么？否则我就完蛋了！”
与此同时我抓住了门把手，打算不回答就离开；但是我自己气喘吁吁，突然我的激动引发出一阵极其强烈的咳嗽，几乎连站都站不稳。我看见这位先生到处乱钻，想为我找一把空椅子，最后他从一把椅子上抓起破旧衣服丢到地上，急忙把椅子挪给我，小心翼翼地安顿我坐下，但我的咳嗽继续着，不停地又咳了足足３分钟。等我明白过来，他已经坐在我旁边的另一张椅子上（大概，也把破旧衣服从那上面扔到地上），专注地凝视着我。
“您，好像……有病？”他用通常是医生着手治病人看病时用的口吻说，“我自己……是搞医的（他没有说是大夫）”，说完这话，不知为什么对我指了一下房间，仿佛是对自己目前的境况表示抗议，“我看得出来，您……”
“我有肺病，”我尽可能简短地说，并站起身。
他马上就跳起来。
“也许，您是夸大了……采取些治疗手段……”
他显得十分慌乱，不知所措，仿佛没有恢复常态，左手持着那只大皮夹。
“哦，您别担心”，我抓住门把手，又打断他说，”Ｂ大夫（我这时又把Ｂ大夫插了进来）上星期给我检查过，我的病情已经确诊了。对不起……”
我本来又想打开门，撇下我这位心怀感激的又窘困异常，羞愧难当的大夫，但是可恶的咳嗽偏偏又一次袭住了我。这时我这位大夫就坚持要我再坐下休息一会；他向妻子示意，她就在原地对我说了几句感激和欢迎的话。与此同时她很不好意思，甚至在地苍白蜡黄干瘪的脸上浮现出红晕。我留了下来，但是显示出每秒钟都生怕使他们感到拘束的样子（这是应该的）。我这位大夫终因悔恨而痛苦不安，这我看得出来。
“如果我……”他开始说，但不时中断和转换话题，“我非常感激您，又非常对不起您……我……您也看见了……”他又指了指房间，“目前我处于这么一种境况……”
“哦，”我说，“不用看；自然，您大概丢了差事，来申诉和重找职位吧。”
“您怎么……知道的？”他惊奇地问。
“一眼就看得出来，”我不由自主地用嘲笑的口吻回答说，“有许多人满怀希望从外省到这里来，到处奔走，就是这样生活的。”
他突然双唇颤动着急切地说了起来；他开始抱怨，开始叙述，我承认，他吸引住了我；我在他那里坐了几乎１小时。他对我讲了自己的经历，不过是很平常的经历。他是外省的医生，有公职，但是那里有人搞起了阴谋，甚至把他妻子也牵连了进去。他很自负，也很气忿；但是省里长官人选的变动有利于他的敌人；他们挖他的墙角，说他的坏话；他就丢了职位，用最后一点钱来到彼得堡申诉；在彼得堡，自然，很长时问都不睬他，后来听了他的申诉，接着便是拒绝，接着又以许诺来诱惑，接着则是严词答复，后来又让让他把什么情况写个说明，接着又拒绝接受他写的东西，要他递呈文，--总之，他已经奔走了四个多月，所有的钱都吃光了；妻子的最后几件衣服也当了，而这时又生下了孩子，而且……而且“今天呈文最终被拒绝了，而我几乎连面包也没有，一无所有，妻子刚生过孩子、我，我……”
他从椅子上跳起来转过身去。他妻子在角落里哭泣，孩子又开始啼器。我掏出笔记本，记下一些情况，当我写完站起身的时候，他站在我面前，既害怕又好奇地望着我。
“我记下了您的名字。”我对他说，“嗯，还有其他一些情况，如任职地点，你们省长的名字，日期，月份等等。我有一位中学同学，姓巴赫渗托夫，他有个伯父彼得·马特维那维奇·已赫穆托夫，是四等文官，现在当什么长……”
“彼得·马特维那维奇·巴赫穆托夫！”我这位医生差不多打起颤来，惊呼道，“要知道一切几乎就取决于他呢！”
实际上，在我这位医生的遭遇以及我无意中促成的结局中，一切都是巧合并得到了顺利解决，仿佛故意这样安排似的，完全像小说里写的那样。我对这对可怜的人儿说，他们尽量不要对我抱有任何希望，我自己是个贫困的中学生（我故意夸大了自己的卑微；其实我早已中学毕业，不是中学生了）他们没必要知道我的名字，但是我马上就去瓦西里耶夫斯基岛去找我的同学巴赫穆托夫，因为我确切知道，他那四等文官的伯父是个独身者，没有孩子，对他的侄子喜欢至极，把他奉若神明，将他看做是自己家族的最后一个苗裔，因此“也许我的同学能为你们，为我做点什么，当然，是在他伯父面前……”
“只要允许我向大人说明情况！只要能有幸进行口头说明！”他高声嚷着，像患热病那样浑身打颤，眼睛炯炯发光。他是这么说的：能有幸。我又再次表示，事情也许不会成功，一切也就将成为空话，我还补充说，如果明天上午我不到他们那儿去，那也就是说，事情完蛋了，他们就不必等了。他们一再鞠躬送我出来，几乎激动得有些精神失常。我永远不会忘记他们脸上的表情，我雇了马车，立即出发去瓦西里耶夫斯基岛。
我跟这个巴赫穆托夫在中学里有好几年经常处于敌对状态。他在我们中间被认为是贵族，至少我是这么叫他的。他穿着很漂亮，乘自己的马车，但他一点也不夸耀自己，总之是个非常好的同学，总是非常决活，有时甚至很俏皮，虽然他智力完全不高，尽管他在班上总得第一；我却无论哪方面从来也没有当过第一。所有的同学除我一人，全都喜欢他。在这几年中他曾经有几次来接近我，但每次我都阴沉着脸，气冲冲地不理睬他。现在我已经有一年没有看见他了；他在上大学。８点多钟我进去见他（规矩挺大：仆人通报了我），开始他惊奇地迎接我，甚至完全不表示欢迎，但马上就变开心了，望着我，突然哈哈大笑起来。
“捷连季耶夫，您怎么想起要到我这儿来的。”他嚷了起来，还是用平时那种亲切随便的口气，有时毫不顾忌，但从来也不伤害人，我喜欢他就是这一点，但是恨他也是这一点。“但是，这是怎么啦，”他惊恐地叫了起来，“您病成这个样子！”
咳嗽又一次折磨我，我倒在椅子上，勉强喘过气来。
“别担心，我有肺病，”我说，“我对您有个请求。”
他惊异地坐了下来，我马上把医生的全部遭遇对他做了叙述，并说明，他本人对他伯父有着非同一般的影响，也许，他能做点什么。
“我做，一定做，明天就向伯父进攻；我甚至很高兴，而且您把这一切讲得这么好……但是，捷连季耶夫，您这是怎么想起来找我的呢？”
“这件事很大程度上取决于您的伯父，再说，巴赫穆托夫，我们过去总是敌人，而因为您是个高尚的人，因此我想，您不会拒绝敌人的，”我含着讽刺说。
“就像拿破仑向英国求助一样！”他哈哈大笑着叫着，“我会做的，会做的！如果可以的话，甚至现在就去！”他看见我一本正经严肃地起身，急忙补充说。
确实，这件事意想不到地办得不能再好了，过了一个半月我们的医生重又得到了职位，是在另一个省，领到了路费，甚至还有补助。我怀疑经常去他们那儿的巴赫穆托夫（当时我却因此故意不去他们那里，对跑来看我的医生态度也几乎很冷漠），我怀疑巴赫穆托夫甚至劝说他们接受他的借款。这六个星期里我见到巴赫穆托夫两次，第三次碰面是在给医生送行的时候。这次饯别巴赫穆托夫安排在自己家里，以喝香槟用晚餐的形式进行。医生的妻子也出席了，不过，她很快就回去照料小孩了。这是５月初一个晴朗的傍晚，太阳像一个巨大的球降落到海湾里。巴赫穆托夫送我回家；我们顺着尼古拉耶夫斯基桥漫步，两人都有几分醉意。巴赫穆托夫谈到自己欢喜的心情，因为这件事了结得这么好，他还为什么事而感激我，他解释说，在做了这件好事后现在他是多么愉决，他相信，一切功劳都归于我，而现在许多人告诫和宣传做个别件把好事是丝毫没有意义的，这是没有道理的。我也想谈得不得了。
“谁要是否定个别的‘善行’，”我开始说，“谁就是否定人的本性和蔑视他个人的人格。但是组织‘社会的慈善事来夕和个人自由问题--这是两个不同的同时又不互相排斥的问题。个别的善行将永远存在，因为这是个人的需要，是一个人直接影响另一个人的有现实意义的需要。在莫斯科有一个老人，是位‘将军’，也就是四等文官，有德国名字；他整整一生都在狱堡和犯人中奔波；每一批流放去西伯利亚的犯人都事先知道，在麻雀山将会有一个‘将军老头’去看望他们。他做自己的事认真和虔诚到了极点；他出现在哪里，总要走遍每一排围住他的流放犯，在每个人面前停下来。详细询问每个人的需求，他几乎也不向谁进行说教，把他们大家称为“亲爱的”，他给他们钱，寄必需的用品--绑腿、裹脚布、麻布，有时带些劝人为善的小册子来，分给每个识字的罪犯，他充分相信，他们会在路上读这些书，而且识字的会念给不识字的听。他很少询问犯了什么罪，如果罪犯自己开始讲，他也就听着。他对所有的罪犯都一视同仁，不加区别。他跟他们说话就像跟兄弟一样，但是他们自己最后都把他看做父亲，如果他发现哪个流放的女人手上抱着孩子，他就走近前去，对孩子爱抚一阵，用手指打几个榧子逗他笑。多年来他就是这样做的直至死去；后来整个俄罗斯、整个西伯利亚都知道他，也就是所有的罪犯都知道他。有一个过去在西伯利亚呆过的人对我说，自己就是个见证人，那些最冥顽不化的罪犯也常回忆起将军，其实呢，将军去看望一批批犯人时，给每个兄弟的钱难得超过２０戈比的。确实，他们回忆起他并非那么炽热或者非常正经，有一个‘倒霉鬼’打死过１０个人，害过６个孩子，仅仅是为了得到一种满足（据说是有这样的人），突然什么时候，也许整整２０年里也就这么一回，他忽然无缘无故会发出一声长叹并且说。‘现在将军老头怎么样了，还在不在世？’说这话时，也许还会付之一笑，--就此而已。您又怎么知道， 他二十年未忘怀的这位将军老头，在他心中永远播下了一颗什么种子、您又怎么知道，巴赫穆托夫，一个人亲近另一个人，这对被亲近的人的命运会有什么样的意义？……要知道这时有整个人生和多得不计其数的我们所不知道的岔道，最优秀的棋手，他们中最机智的也只能预料后面几步棋；一位能顶上士步棋的法国棋手，已被当作神奇的事而大写特写了。而人生又有多少步，我们不知道的事又有多少？当您撒下您的种子，当您撒下您的‘善行’、无论哪种形式的好事，您就奉献了您的一部分个性，同时也接收了别人的一部分个性；你们彼此互相了解；再稍加一注意，您已经得到知识、最意外的发现作为补偿。最后，您一定会把您所做的事看作是门科学，它将会把您的整个生命都吸引住，还能充实整个生命。从另一方面来说，所有您的思想，所有被您撒下、也许已经被您遗忘的种子，将会得到体现和发育成长；从您那里有所获的人将会把它们传递给别的人。您怎么知道，您将怎样参与未来决定人类的命运？如果知识和这项工作的整个生命力最后将使您上升到能撒下巨大的种于、能给世界留下伟大的思想作遗产，那么……”诸如此类的话，我当时说了许多。
“可是与此同时倒想想，你却要失去生命！”巴赫穆托夫激烈地责备着向什么人嚷道。
那时我们站在桥上，胳膊时撑在栏杆上，望着涅瓦河。
“您知道吗，我想到什么了？”我更向栏杆俯下身去，说。
“难道想要投河？”巴赫穆托夫几乎惊恐地嚷了起来。也许，他在我的脸上看出了我的思想。
“不，暂时还只是下面这样一种想法，现在我还剩两三个月可活，也许是四个月；但是，比方说，一共还有两个月，而假如我又非常想做一件好事，这需要工作、奔走和张罗，就像我们的医生那样的事，在这种情况下因为我剩下的时间不够，只能放弃做这件事，另找一件‘好事’，小一点的，找力所能及的（如果这么强烈地吸引我去做好的话）。您一定认为，这是个可笑的想法！”
可怜的巴赫舟托夫非常为我忧急不安；他送我到家门口，而且非常知趣，没有说一次安慰话，几乎一直沉默着。跟我告别的时候，他热情地握着我的手，请求允许他来看望我。我回答他说，如果他是作为“安慰者”到我这儿来（因为即使他沉默不语，他来也仍然是作为“安慰者”，我对他说明这一点），那么他每次这样做就将会使我更多地想到死。他耸了耸肩膀，但同意了我；我们分手时相当客气，我甚至没有料到。
但是这个晚上和这个夜里撒下了我“最后信念”的第一颗种子。我贪婪地抓住这个新思想，贪婪地分析它所有的细微之处和各种形态（我整夜没有睡着），我越是深入这思想，越是接受它，就越是感到惧怕。可怕的恐惧终于袭往了我，在接下来的日子里也不离去。有时候、在想到我的这种经常性的惊惧时，我又会因为新的恐惧的吓得浑身冰凉，根据这种恐惧我可以得出结论，我的“最后信念”印在头脑里太深刻了，一定会有个解决。但是要解决，我又缺少决心。
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 35楼  发表于: 2014-01-18 0

Part 3 Chapter 7
"I HAD a small pocket pistol. I had procured it while still a boy, at that droll age when the stories of duels and highwaymen begin to delight one, and when one imagines oneself nobly standing fire at some future day, in a duel.
"There were a couple of old bullets in the bag which contained the pistol, and powder enough in an old flask for two or three charges.
"The pistol was a wretched thing, very crooked and wouldn't carry farther than fifteen paces at the most. However, it would send your skull flying well enough if you pressed the muzzle of it against your temple.
"I determined to die at Pavlofsk at sunrise, in the park--so as to make no commotion in the house.
"This 'explanation' will make the matter clear enough to the police. Students of psychology, and anyone else who likes, may make what they please of it. I should not like this paper, however, to be made public. I request the prince to keep a copy himself, and to give a copy to Aglaya Ivanovna Epanchin. This is my last will and testament. As for my skeleton, I bequeath it to the Medical Academy for the benefit of science.
"I recognize no jurisdiction over myself, and I know that I am now beyond the power of laws and judges.
"A little while ago a very amusing idea struck me. What if I were now to commit some terrible crime--murder ten fellow-creatures, for instance, or anything else that is thought most shocking and dreadful in this world--what a dilemma my judges would be in, with a criminal who only has a fortnight to live in any case, now that the rack and other forms of torture are abolished! Why, I should die comfortably in their own hospital--in a warm, clean room, with an attentive doctor--probably much more comfortably than I should at home.
"I don't understand why people in my position do not oftener indulge in such ideas--if only for a joke! Perhaps they do! Who knows! There are plenty of merry souls among us!
"But though I do not recognize any jurisdiction over myself, still I know that I shall be judged, when I am nothing but a voiceless lump of clay; therefore I do not wish to go before I have left a word of reply--the reply of a free man--not one forced to justify himself--oh no! I have no need to ask forgiveness of anyone. I wish to say a word merely because I happen to desire it of my own free will.
"Here, in the first place, comes a strange thought!
"Who, in the name of what Law, would think of disputing my full personal right over the fortnight of life left to me? What jurisdiction can be brought to bear upon the case? Who would wish me, not only to be sentenced, but to endure the sentence to the end? Surely there exists no man who would wish such a thing--why should anyone desire it? For the sake of morality? Well, I can understand that if I were to make an attempt upon my own life while in the enjoyment of full health and vigour--my life which might have been 'useful,' etc., etc.--morality might reproach me, according to the old routine, for disposing of my life without permission--or whatever its tenet may be. But now, NOW, when my sentence is out and my days numbered! How can morality have need of my last breaths, and why should I die listening to the consolations offered by the prince, who, without doubt, would not omit to demonstrate that death is actually a benefactor to me? (Christians like him always end up with that--it is their pet theory.) And what do they want with their ridiculous 'Pavlofsk trees'? To sweeten my last hours? Cannot they understand that the more I forget myself, the more I let myself become attached to these last illusions of life and love, by means of which they try to hide from me Meyer's wall, and all that is so plainly written on it--the more unhappy they make me? What is the use of all your nature to me--all your parks and trees, your sunsets and sunrises, your blue skies and your self-satisfied faces--when all this wealth of beauty and happiness begins with the fact that it accounts me--only me--one too many! What is the good of all this beauty and glory to me, when every second, every moment, I cannot but be aware that this little fly which buzzes around my head in the sun's rays--even this little fly is a sharer and participator in all the glory of the universe, and knows its place and is happy in it;--while I--only I, am an outcast, and have been blind to the fact hitherto, thanks to my simplicity! Oh! I know well how the prince and others would like me, instead of indulging in all these wicked words of my own, to sing, to the glory and triumph of morality, that well-known verse of Gilbert's:
"'0, puissent voir longtemps votre beaute sacree Tant d'amis, sourds a mes adieux! Qu'ils meurent pleins de jours, que leur mort soit pleuree, Qu'un ami leur ferme les yeux!'
"But believe me, believe me, my simple-hearted friends, that in this highly moral verse, in this academical blessing to the world in general in the French language, is hidden the intensest gall and bitterness; but so well concealed is the venom, that I dare say the poet actually persuaded himself that his words were full of the tears of pardon and peace, instead of the bitterness of disappointment and malice, and so died in the delusion.
"Do you know there is a limit of ignominy, beyond which man's consciousness of shame cannot go, and after which begins satisfaction in shame? Well, of course humility is a great force in that sense, I admit that--though not in the sense in which religion accounts humility to be strength!
"Religion!--I admit eternal life--and perhaps I always did admit it.
"Admitted that consciousness is called into existence by the will of a Higher Power; admitted that this consciousness looks out upon the world and says 'I am;' and admitted that the Higher Power wills that the consciousness so called into existence, be suddenly extinguished (for so--for some unexplained reason--it is and must be)--still there comes the eternal question--why must I be humble through all this? Is it not enough that I am devoured, without my being expected to bless the power that devours me? Surely--surely I need not suppose that Somebody--there--will be offended because I do not wish to live out the fortnight allowed me? I don't believe it.
"It is much simpler, and far more likely, to believe that my death is needed--the death of an insignificant atom--in order to fulfil the general harmony of the universe--in order to make even some plus or minus in the sum of existence. Just as every day the death of numbers of beings is necessary because without their annihilation the rest cannot live on--(although we must admit that the idea is not a particularly grand one in itself!)
"However--admit the fact! Admit that without such perpetual devouring of one another the world cannot continue to exist, or could never have been organized--I am ever ready to confess that I cannot understand why this is so--but I'll tell you what I DO know, for certain. If I have once been given to understand and realize that I AM--what does it matter to me that the world is organized on a system full of errors and that otherwise it cannot be organized at all? Who will or can judge me after this? Say what you like--the thing is impossible and unjust!
"And meanwhile I have never been able, in spite of my great desire to do so, to persuade myself that there is no future existence, and no Providence.
"The fact of the matter is that all this DOES exist, but that we know absolutely nothing about the future life and its laws!
"But it is so difficult, and even impossible to understand, that surely I am not to be blamed because I could not fathom the incomprehensible?
"Of course I know they say that one must be obedient, and of course, too, the prince is one of those who say so: that one must be obedient without questions, out of pure goodness of heart, and that for my worthy conduct in this matter I shall meet with reward in another world. We degrade God when we attribute our own ideas to Him, out of annoyance that we cannot fathom His ways.
"Again, I repeat, I cannot be blamed because I am unable to understand that which it is not given to mankind to fathom. Why am I to be judged because I could not comprehend the Will and Laws of Providence? No, we had better drop religion.
"And enough of this. By the time I have got so far in the reading of my document the sun will be up and the huge force of his rays will be acting upon the living world. So be it. I shall die gazing straight at the great Fountain of life and power; I do not want this life!
"If I had had the power to prevent my own birth I should certainly never have consented to accept existence under such ridiculous conditions. However, I have the power to end my existence, although I do but give back days that are already numbered. It is an insignificant gift, and my revolt is equally insignificant.
"Final explanation: I die, not in the least because I am unable to support these next three weeks. Oh no, I should find strength enough, and if I wished it I could obtain consolation from the thought of the injury that is done me. But I am not a French poet, and I do not desire such consolation. And finally, nature has so limited my capacity for work or activity of any kind, in allotting me but three weeks of time, that suicide is about the only thing left that I can begin and end in the time of my own free will.
"Perhaps then I am anxious to take advantage of my last chance of doing something for myself. A protest is sometimes no small thing."
The explanation was finished; Hippolyte paused at last.
There is, in extreme cases, a final stage of cynical candour when a nervous man, excited, and beside himself with emotion, will be afraid of nothing and ready for any sort of scandal, nay, glad of it. The extraordinary, almost unnatural, tension of the nerves which upheld Hippolyte up to this point, had now arrived at this final stage. This poor feeble boy of eighteen--exhausted by disease--looked for all the world as weak and frail as a leaflet torn from its parent tree and trembling in the breeze; but no sooner had his eye swept over his audience, for the first time during the whole of the last hour, than the most contemptuous, the most haughty expression of repugnance lighted up his face. He defied them all, as it were. But his hearers were indignant, too; they rose to their feet with annoyance. Fatigue, the wine consumed, the strain of listening so long, all added to the disagreeable impression which the reading had made upon them.
Suddenly Hippolyte jumped up as though he had been shot.
"The sun is rising," he cried, seeing the gilded tops of the trees, and pointing to them as to a miracle. "See, it is rising now!"
"Well, what then? Did you suppose it wasn't going to rise?" asked Ferdishenko.
"It's going to be atrociously hot again all day," said Gania, with an air of annoyance, taking his hat. "A month of this... Are you coming home, Ptitsin?" Hippolyte listened to this in amazement, almost amounting to stupefaction. Suddenly he became deadly pale and shuddered.
"You manage your composure too awkwardly. I see you wish to insult me," he cried to Gania. "You--you are a cur!" He looked at Gania with an expression of malice.
"What on earth is the matter with the boy? What phenomenal feeble-mindedness!" exclaimed Ferdishenko.
"Oh, he's simply a fool," said Gania.
Hippolyte braced himself up a little.
"I understand, gentlemen," he began, trembling as before, and stumbling over every word," that I have deserved your resentment, and--and am sorry that I should have troubled you with this raving nonsense" (pointing to his article),"or rather, I am sorry that I have not troubled you enough." He smiled feebly. "Have I troubled you, Evgenie Pavlovitch?" He suddenly turned on Evgenie with this question. "Tell me now, have I troubled you or not?"
"Well, it was a little drawn out, perhaps; but--"
"Come, speak out! Don't lie, for once in your life--speak out!" continued Hippolyte, quivering with agitation.
"Oh, my good sir, I assure you it's entirely the same to me. Please leave me in peace," said Evgenie, angrily, turning his back on him.
"Good-night, prince," said Ptitsin, approaching his host.
"What are you thinking of? Don't go, he'll blow his brains out in a minute!" cried Vera Lebedeff, rushing up to Hippolyte and catching hold of his hands in a torment of alarm. "What are you thinking of? He said he would blow his brains out at sunrise."
"Oh, he won't shoot himself!" cried several voices, sarcastically.
"Gentlemen, you'd better look out," cried Colia, also seizing Hippolyte by the hand. "Just look at him! Prince, what are you thinking of?" Vera and Colia, and Keller, and Burdovsky were all crowding round Hippolyte now and holding him down.
"He has the right--the right--"-murmured Burdovsky. "Excuse me, prince, but what are your arrangements?" asked Lebedeff, tipsy and exasperated, going up to Muishkin.
"What do you mean by 'arrangements'?"
"No, no, excuse me! I'm master of this house, though I do not wish to lack respect towards you. You are master of the house too, in a way; but I can't allow this sort of thing--"
"He won't shoot himself; the boy is only playing the fool," said General Ivolgin, suddenly and unexpectedly, with indignation.
"I know he won't, I know he won't, general; but I--I'm master here!"
"Listen, Mr. Terentieff," said Ptitsin, who had bidden the prince good-night, and was now holding out his hand to Hippolyte; "I think you remark in that manuscript of yours, that you bequeath your skeleton to the Academy. Are you referring to your own skeleton--I mean, your very bones?"
"Yes, my bones, I--"
"Quite so, I see; because, you know, little mistakes have occurred now and then. There was a case--"
Why do you tease him?" cried the prince, suddenly.
"You've moved him to tears," added Ferdishenko. But Hippolyte was by no means weeping. He was about to move from his place, when his four guards rushed at him and seized him once more. There was a laugh at this.
"He led up to this on purpose. He took the trouble of writing all that so that people should come and grab him by the arm," observed Rogojin. "Good-night, prince. What a time we've sat here, my very bones ache!"
"If you really intended to shoot yourself, Terentieff," said Evgenie Pavlovitch, laughing, "if I were you, after all these compliments, I should just not shoot myself in order to vex them all."
"They are very anxious to see me blow my brains out," said Hippolyte, bitterly.
"Yes, they'll be awfully annoyed if they don't see it."
"Then you think they won't see it?"
"I am not trying to egg you on. On the contrary, I think it very likely that you may shoot yourself; but the principal thing is to keep cool," said Evgenie with a drawl, and with great condescension.
"I only now perceive what a terrible mistake I made in reading this article to them," said Hippolyte, suddenly, addressing Evgenie, and looking at him with an expression of trust and confidence, as though he were applying to a friend for counsel.
"Yes, it's a droll situation; I really don't know what advice to give you," replied Evgenie, laughing. Hippolyte gazed steadfastly at him, but said nothing. To look at him one might have supposed that he was unconscious at intervals.
"Excuse me," said Lebedeff, "but did you observe the young gentleman's style? 'I'll go and blow my brains out in the park,' says he,' so as not to disturb anyone.' He thinks he won't disturb anybody if he goes three yards away, into the park, and blows his brains out there."
"Gentlemen--" began the prince.
"No, no, excuse me, most revered prince," Lebedeff interrupted, excitedly. "Since you must have observed yourself that this is no joke, and since at least half your guests must also have concluded that after all that has been said this youth MUST blow his brains out for honour's sake--I--as master of this house, and before these witnesses, now call upon you to take steps."
"Yes, but what am I to do, Lebedeff? What steps am I to take? I am ready."
"I'll tell you. In the first place he must immediately deliver up the pistol which he boasted of, with all its appurtenances. If he does this I shall consent to his being allowed to spend the night in this house--considering his feeble state of health, and of course conditionally upon his being under proper supervision. But tomorrow he must go elsewhere. Excuse me, prince! Should he refuse to deliver up his weapon, then I shall instantly seize one of his arms and General Ivolgin the other, and we shall hold him until the police arrive and take the matter into their own hands. Mr. Ferdishenko will kindly fetch them."
At this there was a dreadful noise; Lebedeff danced about in his excitement; Ferdishenko prepared to go for the police; Gania frantically insisted that it was all nonsense, "for nobody was going to shoot themselves." Evgenie Pavlovitch said nothing.
"Prince," whispered Hippolyte, suddenly, his eyes all ablaze, "you don't suppose that I did not foresee all this hatred?" He looked at the prince as though he expected him to reply, for a moment. "Enough!" he added at length, and addressing the whole company, he cried: "It's all my fault, gentlemen! Lebedeff, here's the key," (he took out a small bunch of keys); "this one, the last but one--Colia will show you--Colia, where's Colia?" he cried, looking straight at Colia and not seeing him. "Yes, he'll show you; he packed the bag with me this morning. Take him up, Colia; my bag is upstairs in the prince's study, under the table. Here's the key, and in the little case you'll find my pistol and the powder, and all. Colia packed it himself, Mr. Lebedeff; he'll show you; but it's on condition that tomorrow morning, when I leave for Petersburg, you will give me back my pistol, do you hear? I do this for the prince's sake, not yours."
"Capital, that's much better!" cried Lebedeff, and seizing the key he made off in haste.
Colia stopped a moment as though he wished to say something; but Lebedeff dragged him away.
Hippolyte looked around at the laughing guests. The prince observed that his teeth were chattering as though in a violent attack of ague.
"What brutes they all are!" he whispered to the prince. Whenever he addressed him he lowered his voice.
"Let them alone, you're too weak now--"
Yes, directly; I'll go away directly. I'll--"
Suddenly he embraced Muishkin.
"Perhaps you think I am mad, eh?" he asked him, laughing very strangely.
"No, but you--"
"Directly, directly! Stand still a moment, I wish to look in your eyes; don't speak--stand so--let me look at you! I am bidding farewell to mankind."
He stood so for ten seconds, gazing at the prince, motionless, deadly pale, his temples wet with perspiration; he held the prince's hand in a strange grip, as though afraid to let him go.
"Hippolyte, Hippolyte, what is the matter with you?" cried Muishkin.
"Directly! There, that's enough. I'll lie down directly. I must drink to the sun's health. I wish to--I insist upon it! Let go!"
He seized a glass from the table, broke away from the prince, and in a moment had reached the terrace steps.
The prince made after him, but it so happened that at this moment Evgenie Pavlovitch stretched out his hand to say good-night. The next instant there was a general outcry, and then followed a few moments of indescribable excitement.
Reaching the steps, Hippolyte had paused, holding the glass in his left hand while he put his right hand into his coat pocket.
Keller insisted afterwards that he had held his right hand in his pocket all the while, when he was speaking to the prince, and that he had held the latter's shoulder with his left hand only. This circumstance, Keller affirmed, had led him to feel some suspicion from the first. However this may be, Keller ran after Hippolyte, but he was too late.
He caught sight of something flashing in Hippolyte's right hand, and saw that it was a pistol. He rushed at him, but at that very instant Hippolyte raised the pistol to his temple and pulled the trigger. There followed a sharp metallic click, but no report.
When Keller seized the would-be suicide, the latter fell forward into his arms, probably actually believing that he was shot. Keller had hold of the pistol now. Hippolyte was immediately placed in a chair, while the whole company thronged around excitedly, talking and asking each other questions. Every one of them had heard the snap of the trigger, and yet they saw a live and apparently unharmed man before them.
Hippolyte himself sat quite unconscious of what was going on, and gazed around with a senseless expression.
Lebedeff and Colia came rushing up at this moment.
"What is it?" someone asked, breathlessly--"A misfire?"
"Perhaps it wasn't loaded," said several voices.
"It's loaded all right," said Keller, examining the pistol, "but--"
"What! did it miss fire?"
"There was no cap in it," Keller announced.
It would be difficult to describe the pitiable scene that now followed. The first sensation of alarm soon gave place to amusement; some burst out laughing loud and heartily, and seemed to find a malicious satisfaction in the joke. Poor Hippolyte sobbed hysterically; he wrung his hands; he approached everyone in turn--even Ferdishenko--and took them by both hands, and swore solemnly that he had forgotten--absolutely forgotten-- "accidentally, and not on purpose,"--to put a cap in--that he "had ten of them, at least, in his pocket." He pulled them out and showed them to everyone; he protested that he had not liked to put one in beforehand for fear of an accidental explosion in his pocket. That he had thought he would have lots of time to put it in afterwards--when required--and, that, in the heat of the moment, he had forgotten all about it. He threw himself upon the prince, then on Evgenie Pavlovitch. He entreated Keller to give him back the pistol, and he'd soon show them all that "his honour--his honour,"--but he was "dishonoured, now, for ever!"
He fell senseless at last--and was carried into the prince's study.
Lebedeff, now quite sobered down, sent for a doctor; and he and his daughter, with Burdovsky and General Ivolgin, remained by the sick man's couch.
When he was carried away unconscious, Keller stood in the middle of the room, and made the following declaration to the company in general, in a loud tone of voice, with emphasis upon each word.
"Gentlemen, if any one of you casts any doubt again, before me, upon Hippolyte's good faith, or hints that the cap was forgotten intentionally, or suggests that this unhappy boy was acting a part before us, I beg to announce that the person so speaking shall account to me for his words."
No one replied.
The company departed very quickly, in a mass. Ptitsin, Gania, and Rogojin went away together.
The prince was much astonished that Evgenie Pavlovitch changed his mind, and took his departure without the conversation he had requested.
"Why, you wished to have a talk with me when the others left?" he said.
"Quite so," said Evgenie, sitting down suddenly beside him, "but I have changed my mind for the time being. I confess, I am too disturbed, and so, I think, are you; and the matter as to which I wished to consult you is too serious to tackle with one's mind even a little disturbed; too serious both for myself and for you. You see, prince, for once in my life I wish to perform an absolutely honest action, that is, an action with no ulterior motive; and I think I am hardly in a condition to talk of it just at this moment, and--and--well, we'll discuss it another time. Perhaps the matter may gain in clearness if we wait for two or three days--just the two or three days which I must spend in Petersburg."
Here he rose again from his chair, so that it seemed strange that he should have thought it worth while to sit down at all.
The prince thought, too, that he looked vexed and annoyed, and not nearly so friendly towards himself as he had been earlier in the night.
"I suppose you will go to the sufferer's bedside now?" he added.
"Yes, I am afraid..." began the prince.
"Oh, you needn't fear! He'll live another six weeks all right. Very likely he will recover altogether; but I strongly advise you to pack him off tomorrow."
"I think I may have offended him by saying nothing just now. I am afraid he may suspect that I doubted his good faith,--about shooting himself, you know. What do you think, Evgenie Pavlovitch?"
"Not a bit of it! You are much too good to him; you shouldn't care a hang about what he thinks. I have heard of such things before, but never came across, till tonight, a man who would actually shoot himself in order to gain a vulgar notoriety, or blow out his brains for spite, if he finds that people don't care to pat him on the back for his sanguinary intentions. But what astonishes me more than anything is the fellow's candid confession of weakness. You'd better get rid of him tomorrow, in any case.
"Do you think he will make another attempt?"
"Oh no, not he, not now! But you have to be very careful with this sort of gentleman. Crime is too often the last resource of these petty nonentities. This young fellow is quite capable of cutting the throats of ten people, simply for a lark, as he told us in his 'explanation.' I assure you those confounded words of his will not let me sleep."
"I think you disturb yourself too much."
"What an extraordinary person you are, prince! Do you mean to say that you doubt the fact that he is capable of murdering ten men?"
"I daren't say, one way or the other; all this is very strange-- but--"
"Well, as you like, just as you like," said Evgenie Pavlovitch, irritably. "Only you are such a plucky fellow, take care you don't get included among the ten victims!"
"Oh, he is much more likely not to kill anyone at all," said the prince, gazing thoughtfully at Evgenie. The latter laughed disagreeably.
"Well, au revoir! Did you observe that he 'willed' a copy of his confession to Aglaya Ivanovna?"
"Yes, I did; I am thinking of it."
"In connection with 'the ten,' eh?" laughed Evgenie, as he left the room.
An hour later, towards four o'clock, the prince went into the park. He had endeavoured to fall asleep, but could not, owing to the painful beating of his heart.
He had left things quiet and peaceful; the invalid was fast asleep, and the doctor, who had been called in, had stated that there was no special danger. Lebedeff, Colia, and Burdovsky were lying down in the sick-room, ready to take it in turns to watch. There was nothing to fear, therefore, at home.
But the prince's mental perturbation increased every moment. He wandered about the park, looking absently around him, and paused in astonishment when he suddenly found himself in the empty space with the rows of chairs round it, near the Vauxhall. The look of the place struck him as dreadful now: so he turned round and went by the path which he had followed with the Epanchins on the way to the band, until he reached the green bench which Aglaya had pointed out for their rendezvous. He sat down on it and suddenly burst into a loud fit of laughter, immediately followed by a feeling of irritation. His disturbance of mind continued; he felt that he must go away somewhere, anywhere.
Above his head some little bird sang out, of a sudden; he began to peer about for it among the leaves. Suddenly the bird darted out of the tree and away, and instantly he thought of the "fly buzzing about in the sun's rays" that Hippolyte had talked of; how that it knew its place and was a participator in the universal life, while he alone was an "outcast." This picture had impressed him at the time, and he meditated upon it now. An old, forgotten memory awoke in his brain, and suddenly burst into clearness and light. It was a recollection of Switzerland, during the first year of his cure, the very first months. At that time he had been pretty nearly an idiot still; he could not speak properly, and had difficulty in understanding when others spoke to him. He climbed the mountain-side, one sunny morning, and wandered long and aimlessly with a certain thought in his brain, which would not become clear. Above him was the blazing sky, below, the lake; all around was the horizon, clear and infinite. He looked out upon this, long and anxiously. He remembered how he had stretched out his arms towards the beautiful, boundless blue of the horizon, and wept, and wept. What had so tormented him was the idea that he was a stranger to all this, that he was outside this glorious festival.
What was this universe? What was this grand, eternal pageant to which he had yearned from his childhood up, and in which he could never take part? Every morning the same magnificent sun; every morning the same rainbow in the waterfall; every evening the same glow on the snow-mountains.
Every little fly that buzzed in the sun's rays was a singer in the universal chorus, "knew its place, and was happy in it. "Every blade of grass grew and was happy. Everything knew its path and loved it, went forth with a song and returned with a song; only he knew nothing, understood nothing, neither men nor words, nor any of nature's voices; he was a stranger and an outcast.
Oh, he could not then speak these words, or express all he felt! He had been tormented dumbly; but now it appeared to him that he must have said these very words--even then--and that Hippolyte must have taken his picture of the little fly from his tears and words of that time.
He was sure of it, and his heart beat excitedly at the thought, he knew not why.
He fell asleep on the bench; but his mental disquiet continued through his slumbers.
Just before he dozed off, the idea of Hippolyte murdering ten men flitted through his brain, and he smiled at the absurdity of such a thought.
Around him all was quiet; only the flutter and whisper of the leaves broke the silence, but broke it only to cause it to appear yet more deep and still.
He dreamed many dreams as he sat there, and all were full of disquiet, so that he shuddered every moment.
At length a woman seemed to approach him. He knew her, oh! he knew her only too well. He could always name her and recognize her anywhere; but, strange, she seemed to have quite a different face from hers, as he had known it, and he felt a tormenting desire to be able to say she was not the same woman. In the face before him there was such dreadful remorse and horror that he thought she must be a criminal, that she must have just committed some awful crime.
Tears were trembling on her white cheek. She beckoned him, but placed her finger on her lip as though to warn him that he must follow her very quietly. His heart froze within him. He wouldn't, he COULDN'T confess her to be a criminal, and yet he felt that something dreadful would happen the next moment, something which would blast his whole life.
She seemed to wish to show him something, not far off, in the park.
He rose from his seat in order to follow her, when a bright, clear peal of laughter rang out by his side. He felt somebody's hand suddenly in his own, seized it, pressed it hard, and awoke. Before him stood Aglaya, laughing aloud.

我有一支袖珍小手熗，在我还是个孩子的时候，我就开始玩这东西了，那是一个可笑的年龄，会开始喜欢有关决斗、强盗袭击的故事，想象着有人向我挑起决斗，我又怎么气字轩昂地面对对方的熗口。在放小手熗的抽屉里还找到了两颗子弹，而在角制火药筒里则有够装三发的火药。这把手熗很糟糕，打出去的子弹总是偏离的，射程总共才１５步；但是，如果紧贴着太阳穴开熗，当然是能叫头颅搬家的。
我打算在帕夫洛夫斯克日出时去公园里死，这样可以不会惊动别墅里的任何人。我的《解释》足以向警方说明全部情况。爱好心理学的人以及有必要了解的人会从中得出他们愿意得出的结论，但是，我不愿意将这份手稿公之于众。我请求公爵保留一份在自己那里，另一份交给阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜·叶潘钦娜。这是我的意愿。我把我的骨骼遗赠给医学院以利于科学研究。
我不承认要对我进行审判的法官，我知道，我现在不受法庭的任何约束。还是不久前有个提议令我棒腹大笑：假若我突然想起现在要杀死随便哪个人，哪怕一下子杀死十个人，或者做什么被认为是这个世界上最可怕的事，在废除了体罚和肉刑的情况下，面对我这么一个只能活两三个星期的人，法庭会陷于何种尴尬的境地？我会在他们医院里受到医生的悉心治疗，会舒舒服服，暖暖和和地死去，也许，比在自己家里还舒服、暖和得多。我不明白，处在我这样状况的人怎么想不到这样的念头，哪怕仅仅是为了开个玩笑？不过，也许想到了；即使在我们中间也能找到许多寻开心的人。
但是，即使我不承认对我进行审判，我还是知道我会受到审判的，那时我已是一个又聋又哑的被告人。我不想不留一句答词就离开人世，我的答词是自由的而不是被迫作出的，也不是为了辩护，－－哦，不！我无须向谁请求宽恕，也没有什么要请求宽恕，--就因为我自己愿意这样做。
首先，这里有一个奇怪的思想：谁会想出来现在对我享有二三周生命期限的权利提出异议？凭什么？出于什么动机？这又关法庭什么事？究竟谁需要让我不仅仅判刑，而且还要乖乖地服满刑期？难道真的有人需要这样？是为了道德？我迂明白，假如我在身强力壮、风华正茂的时候加害于自己的生命，而它“本来是能有益于我亲近的人的”等等，那么按照陈腐的因循守旧的观念，道德还是会谴责我擅自处理自己的生命，或者什么它自己才知道的罪名。但是现在，在已经对我宣读了刑期的现在呢？除了您的生命之外，哪一种道德还需要您交出生命的最后一个原子时发生的最后一声嘶哑的感叹？而那时您还在倾听公爵的安慰，他用自己的基督精神来论证，一定会得出一个幸福的思想：实际上您死去甚至更好。（像他这样的基督教徒总是会接受这种思想的，这是他们老生常谈的话题。）他们讲那些可笑的“帕夫洛夫斯克的树木”想干什么？是想使我生命的最后时辰减轻痛苦？他们想用生命和爱的幻影来遮挡我的梅那罗夫墙和那上面所写的坦诚纯朴的一切，难道他们不明白，我越是想忘怀，越是沉缅于这最后幻影，他们就越使我不幸？整个这不散的筵席从一开始就认为唯独我是多余的人，那么你们的自然，你们的帕夫洛夫斯克公园，你们的日出日落，你们的蔚蓝的天空和你们的万事满意的脸庞，对于我来说又有何用呢？所有这一切美景对我来说又有什么意义？我现在每分每秒应该也必须知道，甚至现在沐浴着阳光、在我身边嗡嗡叫的这只小小的苍蝇，也是这场筵席和合唱的参加者，也知道自己的地位，并热爱自己的这一席之地和感到幸福，而唯独我一人是个被人唾弃的人，仅仅因为我的怯懦畏缩。才至今还不明白这一点！哦，我可是知道的，公爵和他们大伙儿多么想把我引向那一步：使我不讲所有这些“狡猾和恶毒的”话，而出于品行端正和为了道德的胜利来吟唱一节米尔瓦的经典名诗：
Ｏ，ｐｕｉｓｓｅｎｔ ｖｏｌｒ ｖｏｔｒｅ ｂｅａｕｔｅ ｓａｃｒｅｅ　　Ｔａｎｔ　ｄ’ａｍｉｓ ｓｏｕｄｓ ａ ｍｅｓ ａｄｉｅｗ！　　Ｑｕｉｌｓ ｍｅｕｒｅｎｔ ｐｅｉｎｓ ｄｅ ｊｏｕｒｓ，ｑｕｅ ｌｅｕｒ ｍｏｒｔ ｓｏｉｔ ｐｌｅｕｒｅｅ，　　Ｑｄ’ｕｎ ａｍｉ ｌｅｕｒ ｆｅｒｍｅ ｌｅｓ ｙｅｕｘ！＊
但是请相信，天真纯朴的人们，请相信，就是在这节品格高尚的哀诗中，在这种用法语诗向世界表示的经院式祝福中，也潜藏着那么多隐蔽的痛苦，那么多不可调和、在韵律中自行缓解的怨恨，甚至诗人本人也许也会陷于窘境，把这种怨恨当作是平静的泪水，而且就这样死去；愿他的灵魂安息！要知道，意识到自己的微不足道和软弱无力这样的耻辱是有限度的，人已经不能超过这个限度，并且正是从这个极限开始在自己的耻辱中感受到巨大的满足……当然喏，在这个意义上顺忍是一种巨大的力量，我承认这一点，虽然这不是宗教把顺忍看做是力量那样一种含义。
宗教！我承认永恒的生命，也许，过去也一直承认的。就让最高意志的力量点燃意识，就让这意识环顾世界后说：“我存在着！”，就让这最高力量突然确定这意识消亡，因为那里为了某种需要就是这样安排的（甚至不做解释究竟为了什么），需要这样，就让它这样吧，我可以承认这一切，但是，终究仍然有一个永恒的问题：在这种情况下为了什么需要我的顺忍？难道不能就这么把我吃了而不要求我赞美把我吃了？难道那里真的有人会因为我不想继续活两个星期而生气？我不相信这一点；而且正确得多的假设是，这里需要我这微不足道的生命，一个原子的生命，不过是为了某种普遍的总体协调添加一分子，为了某个正和负，为了某种对比等等，等等，就像每天需要牺牲许许多多生物的生命一样，没有它们的死亡剩下的世界就不可能维持（虽然应该指出，这本身并不是很豁达的思想）。但是随它去吧！我同意，不然的话，也就是要是没有不断的彼此消亡，世界是怎么也不可能安排好的；我甚至愿意承认，对于这种安排我一点也不理解，但是有一点我肯定知道：既然已经让我意识到“我存在着”，那么世界安排得有错误，不然它就不能维持，这些还关我什么事？这以后谁会来指责我了为了什么指责我？随您怎么想，这一切是不可能的，不公平的。
＊哦，对我离世置若罔闻的朋友，但愿他们看见您神圣的美！但愿他们在暮年寿终正寝，但愿有人对他们的死哀位，但愿朋友为他们合上双眼。
然而，不管我怀有多大的愿望，我从来也不能设想没有未来的生命和天命。更确切些说，这一切是存在的，但我们对未来的生命及其规律丝毫不理解。但是，既然是这么困难、甚至完全不可能理解这一点，那么，难道我要对无力理喻这无法理解的事物负责吗？确实，他们说（当然，公爵也跟他们在一起），这件事上需要听从，需要不加反对地、唯唯诺诺地听从，在阴间一定会奖赏我的这种温顺。我们血于不能理解天命而烦恼，常常用我们的概念来解释它，因而就过分地贬低了它。但是我又要重复说，既然不可能理解它，那么也很难对不让人理解的东西负责，既然这样，又怎么能指责我不理解天命的真正意志和规律呢？不，最好还是撇下宗教不谈。
再说也已经谈够了，当我将谈到这里的时候，太阳一定已经升起，“在天空中发出轰响”，无穷宏伟的力量倾泻在普天之下。随它去吧！我将直接望着生命和力量的源泉而死去，我不想要这生命了！如果我有权不降生到世上来，我一定不会接受在这样嘲弄人的条件下生存，但是我还有权力死去，虽然我献出的已是屈指可数的日子。权力不大，所以造反也不大。
最后一点说明：我死完全不是因为不能承受这三个星期；哦，我有足够的力量，假若我愿意，那么光是意识到我听遭受的委屈就足以安慰了；但我不是法国诗人，也不想要这样的安慰。说到底，也是一种罪恶初诱惑：大自然限制我的活动到了这样的程度，只判给我三个星期的时间，也许，自杀是唯一一件我还能按照自己的意愿来得及开始和结束的，事，也好，也许我是想到用一下最后的可能性来办这件事？抗议有时不是一桩小事……”
“解释”结尾了；伊波利特终于停下来了……
在极端情况下坦率可以达到恬不知耻至极的程度，当一个神经质的人受了刺激并失去自制力的时候，他已经什么都不怕，甚至准备闹出任何荒唐事来，还会为此而高兴；他会扑向人们，而同时自己则怀有一个模糊但坚定的目的，一分钟后一定要从钟楼上跳下去，以此一下子了结在这种情况下会有的一切困惑。逐渐降临的体力衰竭通常是这种状态的征兆。到目前为止一直支撑着伊波利特的异常的、不自然的紧张已经达到了最后阶段。这个１８岁的小年轻被疾病耗尽了元气，显得十分虚弱，就像从树上掉下来的一片颤抖的树叶；但是他刚刚来得及扫视自己的听众，--这是最近一小时内的第一次，--在他的目光和微笑中马上就流露出最高傲，最轻蔑和得罪人的厌恶神情。他急于向人们挑战，但听众十发气忿。大家懊恼地从桌旁站起来。发出一片响声。疲倦、香槟、紧张加剧了乱糟糟和仿佛是污秽的印象，如果可以这样形容的话。
突然伊波利特很快地从椅子上跳起来，犹如把他从座位上拉下来一样。
“太阳出来了！”他看见闪耀着光芒的树梢呼叫起来，一边像指着奇迹一般指给公爵看，“出来了！”
“您以为不会出来了还是怎么的？”费尔迪先科说。
“又得炙烤一整天，”加尼亚手里拿着帽子，伸着懒腰，打着呵欠，漫不经心地烦恼地喃喃着，“这样干旱一个月怎么得了！我们走不走，普季岑？”
伊波利特听着，惊讶得呆如木鸡；突然他脸色白得可怕，全身颤抖着。
“您很笨拙地做出您那种冷漠的样子来侮辱我，”他凝视着加尼亚，对他说，“您是个坏蛋！”
“嘿，这真是鬼知道是怎么回事，这么放肆！”费尔先科喊了起来，“多么少见的体弱力衰！”
“简直是傻瓜！”加尼亚说。
伊波利特勉强克制住自己。
“我明白，诸位，”他开始说，一边仍然打着颤，每个字都断断续续地说出来。“我会遭到您个人的报复。……我很后悔用这些胡言（他指了下手稿）来折磨您，不过，我也后悔没有把您折磨死……（他愚蠢地笑了一下），折磨死了吧，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇？”他突然转向他问，“折磨死了没有？您说！”
“有点冗长，不过……”
“全都说出来！别撒谎，哪怕一生中就这一次！”伊波利特颤栗着，命令着。
“哦，我根本就无所谓！对不起，请您让我安宁些吧，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇厌恶地背转身去。
“祝您安睡，公爵，”普季岑走近公爵说。
“他马上就会开熗自杀的，你们怎么啦！瞧他！”维拉喊了一声，异常惊恐地冲向伊波利特，甚至抓住他的手，“他不是说过，太阳出来的时候就开熗自尽，你们怎么啦。”
“他不会开熗自尽的！”有几个声音幸灾乐祸地低声说，其中也有加尼亚。
“诸位，请小心！”科利亚也抓住伊波利特的一只手，喊道，“你们只看看他！公爵！公爵，您怎么啦！”
伊波利特身边围聚着维拉、科利亚，凯勒尔和布尔多夫斯基；四个人全都用手抓住他。
“他有权利，有权利！……”布尔多夫斯基喃喃着，其实他也完全茫然失措。
“请问，公爵，您有什么吩咐？”列别杰夫走近公爵，他醉醺醺、恶狠狠，一副无赖的样子。
“什么吩咐？”
“不；请允许我说；我是主人，虽然我并不想不尊重您。即使您也是主人，但我不愿意在我的房子里发生这样的事……就这样。”
“他不会开熗自尽的；这小子在胡闹！”伊活尔京将军气忿而又过于自信地出人意料嚷着。
“将军说得真不错！”费尔迪先科附和说。
“我知道他不会开熗自杀，将军，万分尊敬的将军，但毕竟……因为我是这里的主人。”
“听着，捷连季耶夫先生，”突然普季岑在跟公爵告别后把手递给了伊波利特，“您好像在自己的手稿里讲的您的骨胳，说要遗赠给科学院？您这是说的您的骨骼，您自己的，也就是说要遗赠自己的骨头？”
“是的，我的骨头……”
“这就好了。不然可能会弄错，据说，已经有过这样的事情。”
“您干吗要招惹他。”公爵突然喊起来。
“把人家眼泪都逗出来了，”费尔迪光科补了一句。
但伊波利特根本没有哭。他本想移动一下位置，但是围住他的四个人一下子突然抓住了他的手，响起了笑声。
“他就是要别人抓住他的手，他读手稿就为这个目的，”罗戈任指出，“再见，公爵。唉，坐得大久了，骨头都疼了。”
“捷连季耶夫，如果您真的想开熗自杀，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇笑起来说，“如果我处于您的地位，在听了这样的恭维话后，就偏偏不自杀，气死他们。”
“他们非常想看到我开熗自杀！”伊波利特冲着他气势汹汹地说。
他像是准备进攻似的说。
“他们看不到，所以就着恼。”
“这么说您也认为，他们是看不到的喏？”
“我不来煽动您；相反，我认为，您开熗自杀是非常可能的。主要是您别生气……”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇用一种庇护弱者的语气拉长了调子说。
“我现在才明白，我念这篇手稿是犯了一个可怕的错误！”伊波利特说，他忽然流露出十分信赖的神情望着叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，仿佛请朋友出出友好的主意。
“处境是可笑的，但是……真的，我不知道该向您建议什么好，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇微笑着回答。
伊波处待严厉地目不转睛地盯着他，一语不发，可以想到，他有时完全想入神了。
“不，请让我说几句，这不过是一种姿态，”列别杰夫说，“说什么‘我要在公园里自杀，免得惊动任何人！’他下台阶往公园里走三步，就不惊扰别人了，这是他才这么想。”
“诸位……”公爵本已开始说。
“不，请让我说，万分尊敬的公爵，”列别杰夫愤恨地抓住话题不放，“因为您自己也看到这不是玩笑话，因为您客人中至少有一半也是那种意见并深信，现在，在这里讲了许多话以后，他出于爱面子也一定会开熗自杀，所以我作为事主当着证人们宣布，我请你们予以协助！”
“应该做什么，列别杰夫？我准备着协助您。”
“是这样：首先让他立即交出在我们面前加以吹嘘的手熗以及全部弹药，如果他交出来，鉴于他有病，我同意让他今晚在这屋里过夜，当然，得在我的监视之下，但是明天一定得请他走，随便他去哪里；对不起，公爵！如果他不交出武器，那么我马上，立即扭住他的胳膊，我扭一只，将军扭另一只。同时迅即派人去报告警察，那时这事就转到警察局来审理了，费尔迫先科，看在老交情上，去走一趟吧。”
顿时喧哗声起。列别杰夫异常激动，已经失去分寸：费尔迪先科准备去警察局；加尼亚发狂地坚持谁也不会开熗自杀。叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇沉默语。
“公爵，您曾经从钟楼上跳下来过吗？”伊波利特忽然对他低语说。
“没有……”公爵天真的答道。
“难道您以为，我没有预见到所有这一切憎恨吗？”伊波利特又低声说道，他眼睛一闪一闪望着公爵，仿佛真的等待着他的回答。“够了！”他突然对所有在场的人喊了起来，“我有过错……比所有的人都大的过错！列别杰夫，这是钥匙（他掏出钱包，从里面取出连着三四把小钥匙的钢钥匙圈），就是这把，最后第二把……科利亚会指给您看的……科利亚！科利亚在什么地方。”他望着科利亚，却视而不见地喊着，“是的……他会指给您看的；不久前他和我一起把东西放进包里的。科利亚，带他去吧；我的包在公爵书房桌子底下……用这把钥题，我的手熗和火药筒……在下面一只小箱子里。不久前是他亲手放的，列别杰夫先生，他会拿给您看的，但是有个条件，明天一早我去彼得堡时，您要把手熗还给我。您听到了吧？我把熗交给您，这样做是为了公爵，而不是为了您。”
“这样就更好！”列别杰夫抓着钥匙，刻毒地冷笑着，跑到隔壁房间去了。
科利亚停住不走，本想说什么，但列别杰夫拽着拖走他了。
伊波利特望着嘻笑的客人们，公爵发觉，他的牙齿在磕碰，就像强烈的寒颤时那样。
“他们全都是坏蛋！”伊波利特气愤若狂地又对公爵低语说。当他跟公爵说话时，总是俯身低语的。
“别管他们；您很虚弱……”
“马上，马上……我马上就走……”
突然他拥抱了公爵。
“也许，您认为我发疯了？”他望了一眼公爵，奇怪地笑了起来。
“不，但是您……”
“马上，马上，您别作声；什么都别说；您站着……我想看一下您的眼睛……您这样站，我来看。我要跟一个大写的人告别。”
他站在那里，望着公爵，一动也不动，也不吭声，这样有１０秒钟。他异常苍白，双鬓都汗湿了，有点奇怪地一只手抓住公爵，仿佛怕把他放了。
“伊波利特，伊波利特，您怎么啦？”公爵喊了起来。
“马上……够了……我就去躺下。我要为太阳的健康喝一口……我想，我想，别管我。”
他很快地从桌上抓起一只酒杯，猛地离开原地，一瞬间便走到了下露台台阶口，公爵本已跟在他后面跑去，但结果却是，像故意似的，就在这一霎那时甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇向他伸过手来向他告辞。过了一秒钟，突然露台上响起了众人的喊叫声；接着便是一分钟异常慌乱的景象。
发生的是这么一回事：
伊波利特定近紧靠下露台的台阶口就停了下来，他左手拿着酒杯，把右手伸进大衣右侧的口袋里。事后凯勒尔肯定地说，还是在这以前伊波利恃就一直把这只手放在右边口袋里；在跟公爵说话时，左手抓住他的肩和领子，这只右手则在口袋里，凯勒尔要人们相信，当时他的手就第一次产生怀疑。不管怎样，某种不安使他也跟在伊波利特后面跑去。但他没有赶得上。他只看见伊波利特的右手中突然有什么东西闪了一下，就在这一秒钟里小小的袖珍手熗已经紧贴在他的太阳穴上，凯勒尔扑过去抓他的手，但在同一秒钟伊波利特扣动了扳机。扳机发出于涩刺耳的喀嚏声，但是接着并没有熗声。当凯勒尔抱住伊波利特的时候，后者倒在了他的怀里，好像失去了知觉，也许，他真的以为他已经被打死了。手熗已经落在凯勒尔手中。有人扶住伊波利特，给他端来椅子，让他坐下，大家都聚拢在周围，喊叫着，询问着。大家都听到了扳机的喀嚓声，看见的却是个活人，甚至没有一丝擦伤。伊波利特本人坐在那里，他不明白发生了什么事，毫无表情的目光环视着周围所有的人。列别杰夫和科利亚在这一刻奔了进来。
“没打响？”周围的人纷纷问。
“也许，没装子弹？”另有些人猜测。
“装了！”凯勒尔检查了手熗宣布说，“但是……”
“难道卡壳了？”
“根本就没有火帽，”凯勒尔告诉大家。
很难叙述接下来那可怜的一幕。最初的普遍惊恐很快地就开始被笑声所取代；有些人甚至哈哈大笑起来，在这件事中找到了幸灾乐祸的快感。伊波利特歇斯底里似地号啕大哭，扳捏着自己的双手，扑向大家，甚至也扑向费尔迪先科，用双手抓住他，向他发誓，他忘了，“无意间完全忘了，而不是故意忘了放火帽，说“这些火帽全都在这里，在他背心口袋里，有十个”（他拿给周围众人看），说他之所以没有早点安上火帽，是怕熗在口袋里意外走火，他以为需要的时候总是来得及装上的，可是突然却忘了。他奔向公爵，奔向叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，恳求凯勒尔把熗还给他，他马上向大家证明“什么是他的名誉，名誉……”而现在他就是“永远名誉扫地了！……”
最后，他真的失去知觉倒下了。大家把他抬到公爵的书房里。列别杰夫已完全清醒了，立即派人去叫医生，自己则和女儿、儿子、布尔多夫斯基以及将军一起留在病人的床边。等把失去知觉的伊波利特抬走后，凯勒尔站在房间中央，一字一顿清清楚楚，情绪激昂地大声宣布：
“诸位，如果我们中有人再要当着我面说出怀疑火帽是故意忘了的话，或者确认那个不幸的年轻人只是演了一场喜剧，那么我就会跟这个人过不去。”
但是没有人答理他。最后客人们结伙匆匆散去。普季岑，加尼亚和罗戈任一起动身。
公爵对于叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇改变主意未做解释就要离去，感到很是惊讶。
“您不是想等大家散去后跟我谈话吗？”他问叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇。
“确实是这样，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇说，一边突然坐到椅子上，也让公爵坐到自己身旁。“但是现在我临时改变了主意。我向您承认，我有点不好意思，您也是一样。我的思绪很乱；此外，我想跟您解释的事对我来说是太重要了，对您也是。公爵，要知道，我很想在一生中哪怕就一次做一件完全光明磊落的事，也就是说完全没有别的用心，但我认为，我现在，就此刻，还不完全能去做这件光明磊落的事，再说您，也许，也是……那样……还有……算了，我们以后再解释吧。我现在要去彼得堡，如果我们等上三天，也许，事情会变得明朗些，对我对您都是这样。”
说罢他又从椅子上站起身，因而使人觉得奇怪：刚才何必要坐下呢？公爵也觉得，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇不甚满意和颇为恼怒，甚至看起人来也带着敌意，目光中流露的神色完全不是刚才那种样子。
“顺便问一下，您现在要去看病人吗。”
“是的……我担心，”公爵说。
“别担心；他肯走能活六个星期，甚至也许还会在这康复。不过最好明天就把他赶走。”
“我什么都没说……也许，我真的就此促使他干了这种事？他可能认为我怀疑他会自杀。您怎么想，叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇。”
“一点儿也不是。您太善良，所以还在耿耿于怀。我听说过这种事，但是实际上从来也没有看到过一一个人会为了让人家夸他或者因为人家不夸他而赌气故意自杀。主要的是，我不相信这种毫不俺饰的软弱无力！可您明天反正得把他赶走。”
”您认为他会再次开熗自杀吗？”
“不会，现在他不会自杀了。但是请当心我们这些自产的拉塞内＊！我再次告诉您，犯罪对于这种没有才能、没有耐心、贪得无厌、毫无价值的人来说是太平常的庇护所。”
“难道这是个拉塞内？”
“本质是一样的，虽然也许扮演的角色不一样。您会看到，正像他自己刚才给我们念的《解释》里说的那样，其实只是为了‘开个玩笑’。就想杀死十个人，即使这位先生没有能耐这佯干，可现在这些话也弄得我无法安睡。”
“也许，您大多虑了。”
“您真让人惊奇，公爵；您不相信，他现在就能杀死十个人？”
“我不敢回答您；这一切非常奇怪，但是……”
“好吧，随您，随您！”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇恼火地收尾说，“况且您是个非常勇敢的人；只不过您自己别掉进那十个人中去。”
“最大的可能是，他不会杀死任何人，”公爵若有所思地望看叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇，说。
叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇气忿地大笑起来。
“再见，该走了！您注意到没有，他要把自己“自白”的副本遗赠给阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜？”
“是的，注意到了……我正在想这件事。”
“这就好，以防他杀死十个人，”叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇又笑了起来，然后就走出去了。
过了１小时，已经３点多了，公爵去了公园。他本试图在家里睡觉，但是睡不着，心跳厉害，不过，家里一切已经安排停当，尽可能安宁平静下来；病人已经睡着了，请来的医生声你，他已经没有特别的危险了，列别杰夫、科利亚、布尔多夫斯基睡在病人房间里，以便流值班；因此，已经没什么可担心的了。
但是公爵自己的不安却一分钟一分钟地在增长。他在公园徘徊，心不在焉地看着自己周围的景物，当他走到车站前的广场并看见一排空荡荡的长椅和乐队的谱架时，他惊讶地停了下来。这个地方使他吃惊，并且不知为什么令人觉得十分不像样子，他转身往回走，沿着昨天与叶潘钦母女走去车站的那条路径直走到指定约会的那张绿色长椅，在上面坐下后，突然纵声大笑起来，但又立即因此而异常愤慨。烦闷苦恼继续围绕着他；他真想离开去什么地方……他不知道去哪里，他头顶上方一只小鸟在树上啼啭，他便开始在叶丛中寻觅它；突然小鸟从树上腾空飞起，就在这一刻他不知为什么想起了那只“沐浴着炽热的阳光”的“苍蝇”，伊波利特这样写它，说“它知道自己的地位，是大合唱的参加者，唯独他一人是被抛弃者”。这句话刚才就使他大为震惊，现在又想起了它。一段早已忘却的回忆在他心间萌动，现在一下子变清晰了。
＊拉塞内，十九世纪二十年代蛋动巴黎的一刑事案件的中心人物，极端残酷的杀人犯。
这是在瑞士，他进行治疗的第１年，甚至是最初几个且。当时他还完全是个白痴，甚至都不会好好说话，有时也不能理解要求他做什么。有一次他走进山里去，那是一个阳光明媚的白天，他怀着一种痛苦的、怎么也不能具体体现的思想在那里踯躅良久。在他面前是辉耀的天空，下面是一汪湖水，四周的天涯清彻明净、无边无际。他久久地望着，心中则非常痛苦。现在他回想起来，当时他向这光明、无涯的青空伸出自己的双手，潸然泪下，使他感到痛苦的是，所有这一切跟他完全没有缘份。这不散的筵席是什么样的？这常年的盛大节日是什么样的？很久以前，从童年起，这筵席、这节日就一直吸引着他，可又怎么也接近不了、加入不了。每天早晨都升起这么光明灿烂的太阳，每天早晨瀑布倾泻处彩虹飞架；每天傍晚远方天际那座最高的雪峰都燃起朱红的火焰；每个“小小的苍蝇沐浴着炽热的阳光，在他身边嗡嗡叫，他是整个这场大合唱的参加者，他知道自己的位置，热爱这一席之地并感到幸福”；每一棵小草都在生长并感到幸福！万物都有自己的路，万物也都知道自己的路，它们唱着歌儿离去，唱着歌儿来临；只有他一个人什么也不知道，什么也不明白，不了解人们，也不理解声音，一切都与他无缘，他是个被抛弃的人。哦，当然，当时他不会用这些话来讲，也不会讲出自己的问题；他默默无声暗自痛苦：但是现在他觉得，他在那时就说了这一切，说了所有这些话，还有，有关苍蝇的话伊波利特正是从他本人那，从他当时的话里和泪水里拿去的。他深信这一点，不知为什么这个念头使他的心直跳……
他在长椅上微微睡着了，但是即使梦中他也仍然忐忑不安。就在入睡前他想起，伊波利特会打死十个人，对于这一荒廖的设想他一笑了之。他的周围是一片美妙、清新的沉寂，只有树
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 36楼  发表于: 2014-01-18 0

Part 3 Chapter 8
SHE laughed, but she was rather angry too.
"He's asleep! You were asleep," she said, with contemptuous surprise.
"Is it really you?" muttered the prince, not quite himself as yet, and recognizing her with a start of amazement. "Oh yes, of course," he added, "this is our rendezvous. I fell asleep here."
"So I saw."
"Did no one awake me besides yourself? Was there no one else here? I thought there was another woman."
"There was another woman here?"
At last he was wide awake.
"It was a dream, of course," he said, musingly. "Strange that I should have a dream like that at such a moment. Sit down--"
He took her hand and seated her on the bench; then sat down beside her and reflected.
Aglaya did not begin the conversation, but contented herself with watching her companion intently.
He looked back at her, but at times it was clear that he did not see her and was not thinking of her.
Aglaya began to flush up.
"Oh yes!" cried the prince, starting. "Hippolyte's suicide--"
"What? At your house?" she asked, but without much surprise. "He was alive yesterday evening, wasn't he? How could you sleep here after that?" she cried, growing suddenly animated.
"Oh, but he didn't kill himself; the pistol didn't go off." Aglaya insisted on hearing the whole story. She hurried the prince along, but interrupted him with all sorts of questions, nearly all of which were irrelevant. Among other things, she seemed greatly interested in every word that Evgenie Pavlovitch had said, and made the prince repeat that part of the story over and over again.
"Well, that'll do; we must be quick," she concluded, after hearing all. "We have only an hour here, till eight; I must be home by then without fail, so that they may not find out that I came and sat here with you; but I've come on business. I have a great deal to say to you. But you have bowled me over considerably with your news. As to Hippolyte, I think his pistol was bound not to go off; it was more consistent with the whole affair. Are you sure he really wished to blow his brains out, and that there was no humbug about the matter?"
"No humbug at all."
"Very likely. So he wrote that you were to bring me a copy of his confession, did he? Why didn't you bring it?"
"Why, he didn't die! I'll ask him for it, if you like."
"Bring it by all means; you needn't ask him. He will be delighted, you may be sure; for, in all probability, he shot at himself simply in order that I might read his confession. Don't laugh at what I say, please, Lef Nicolaievitch, because it may very well be the case."
"I'm not laughing. I am convinced, myself, that that may have been partly the reason.
"You are convinced? You don't really mean to say you think that honestly?" asked Aglaya, extremely surprised.
She put her questions very quickly and talked fast, every now and then forgetting what she had begun to say, and not finishing her sentence. She seemed to be impatient to warn the prince about something or other. She was in a state of unusual excitement, and though she put on a brave and even defiant air, she seemed to be rather alarmed. She was dressed very simply, but this suited her well. She continually trembled and blushed, and she sat on the very edge of the seat.
The fact that the prince confirmed her idea, about Hippolyte shooting himself that she might read his confession, surprised her greatly.
"Of course," added the prince, "he wished us all to applaud his conduct--besides yourself."
"How do you mean--applaud?"
"Well--how am I to explain? He was very anxious that we should all come around him, and say we were so sorry for him, and that we loved him very much, and all that; and that we hoped he wouldn't kill himself, but remain alive. Very likely he thought more of you than the rest of us, because he mentioned you at such a moment, though perhaps he did not know himself that he had you in his mind's eye."
"I don't understand you. How could he have me in view, and not be aware of it himself? And yet, I don't know--perhaps I do. Do you know I have intended to poison myself at least thirty times--ever since I was thirteen or so--and to write to my parents before I did it? I used to think how nice it would be to lie in my coffin, and have them all weeping over me and saying it was all their fault for being so cruel, and all that--what are you smiling at?" she added, knitting her brow. "What do YOU think of when you go mooning about alone? I suppose you imagine yourself a field- marshal, and think you have conquered Napoleon?"
"Well, I really have thought something of the sort now and then, especially when just dozing off," laughed the prince. "Only it is the Austrians whom I conquer--not Napoleon."
"I don't wish to joke with you, Lef Nicolaievitch. I shall see Hippolyte myself. Tell him so. As for you, I think you are behaving very badly, because it is not right to judge a man's soul as you are judging Hippolyte's. You have no gentleness, but only justice--so you are unjust."
The prince reflected.
"I think you are unfair towards me," he said. "There is nothing wrong in the thoughts I ascribe to Hippolyte; they are only natural. But of course I don't know for certain what he thought. Perhaps he thought nothing, but simply longed to see human faces once more, and to hear human praise and feel human affection. Who knows? Only it all came out wrong, somehow. Some people have luck, and everything comes out right with them; others have none, and never a thing turns out fortunately."
"I suppose you have felt that in your own case," said Aglaya.
"Yes, I have," replied the prince, quite unsuspicious of any irony in the remark.
"H'm--well, at all events, I shouldn't have fallen asleep here, in your place. It wasn't nice of you, that. I suppose you fall asleep wherever you sit down?"
"But I didn't sleep a wink all night. I walked and walked about, and went to where the music was--"
"What music?"
"Where they played last night. Then I found this bench and sat down, and thought and thought--and at last I fell fast asleep."
"Oh, is that it? That makes a difference, perhaps. What did you go to the bandstand for?"
"I don't know; I---"
"Very well--afterwards. You are always interrupting me. What woman was it you were dreaming about?"
"It was--about--you saw her--"
"Quite so; I understand. I understand quite well. You are very-- Well, how did she appear to you? What did she look like? No, I don't want to know anything about her," said Aglaya, angrily; "don't interrupt me--"
She paused a moment as though getting breath, or trying to master her feeling of annoyance.
"Look here; this is what I called you here for. I wish to make you a--to ask you to be my friend. What do you stare at me like that for?" she added, almost angrily.
The prince certainly had darted a rather piercing look at her, and now observed that she had begun to blush violently. At such moments, the more Aglaya blushed, the angrier she grew with herself; and this was clearly expressed in her eyes, which flashed like fire. As a rule, she vented her wrath on her unfortunate companion, be it who it might. She was very conscious of her own shyness, and was not nearly so talkative as her sisters for this reason--in fact, at times she was much too quiet. When, therefore, she was bound to talk, especially at such delicate moments as this, she invariably did so with an air of haughty defiance. She always knew beforehand when she was going to blush, long before the blush came.
"Perhaps you do not wish to accept my proposition?" she asked, gazing haughtily at the prince.
"Oh yes, I do; but it is so unnecessary. I mean, I did not think you need make such a proposition," said the prince, looking confused.
"What did you suppose, then? Why did you think I invited you out here? I suppose you think me a 'little fool,' as they all call me at home?"
"I didn't know they called you a fool. I certainly don't think you one."
"You don't think me one! Oh, dear me!--that's very clever of you; you put it so neatly, too."
"In my opinion, you are far from a fool sometimes--in fact, you are very intelligent. You said a very clever thing just now about my being unjust because I had ONLY justice. I shall remember that, and think about it."
Aglaya blushed with pleasure. All these changes in her expression came about so naturally and so rapidly--they delighted the prince; he watched her, and laughed.
"Listen," she began again; "I have long waited to tell you all this, ever since the time when you sent me that letter--even before that. Half of what I have to say you heard yesterday. I consider you the most honest and upright of men--more honest and upright than any other man; and if anybody says that your mind is--is sometimes affected, you know--it is unfair. I always say so and uphold it, because even if your surface mind be a little affected (of course you will not feel angry with me for talking so--I am speaking from a higher point of view) yet your real mind is far better than all theirs put together. Such a mind as they have never even DREAMED of; because really, there are TWO minds-- the kind that matters, and the kind that doesn't matter. Isn't it so?"
"May be! may be so!" said the prince, faintly; his heart was beating painfully.
"I knew you would not misunderstand me," she said, triumphantly. "Prince S. and Evgenie Pavlovitch and Alexandra don't understand anything about these two kinds of mind, but, just fancy, mamma does!"
"You are very like Lizabetha Prokofievna."
"What! surely not?" said Aglaya.
"Yes, you are, indeed."
"Thank you; I am glad to be like mamma," she said, thoughtfully. "You respect her very much, don't you?" she added, quite unconscious of the naiveness of the question.
"VERY much; and I am so glad that you have realized the fact."
"I am very glad, too, because she is often laughed at by people. But listen to the chief point. I have long thought over the matter, and at last I have chosen you. I don't wish people to laugh at me; I don't wish people to think me a 'little fool.' I don't want to be chaffed. I felt all this of a sudden, and I refused Evgenie Pavlovitch flatly, because I am not going to be forever thrown at people's heads to be married. I want--I want-- well, I'll tell you, I wish to run away from home, and I have chosen you to help me."
"Run away from home?" cried the prince.
"Yes--yes--yes! Run away from home!" she repeated, in a transport of rage. "I won't, I won't be made to blush every minute by them all! I don't want to blush before Prince S. or Evgenie Pavlovitch, or anyone, and therefore I have chosen you. I shall tell you everything, EVERYTHING, even the most important things of all, whenever I like, and you are to hide nothing from me on your side. I want to speak to at least one person, as I would to myself. They have suddenly begun to say that I am waiting for you, and in love with you. They began this before you arrived here, and so I didn't show them the letter, and now they all say it, every one of them. I want to be brave, and be afraid of nobody. I don't want to go to their balls and things--I want to do good. I have long desired to run away, for I have been kept shut up for twenty years, and they are always trying to marry me off. I wanted to run away when I was fourteen years old--I was a little fool then, I know--but now I have worked it all out, and I have waited for you to tell me about foreign countries. I have never seen a single Gothic cathedral. I must go to Rome; I must see all the museums; I must study in Paris. All this last year I have been preparing and reading forbidden books. Alexandra and Adelaida are allowed to read anything they like, but I mayn't. I don't want to quarrel with my sisters, but I told my parents long ago that I wish to change my social position. I have decided to take up teaching, and I count on you because you said you loved children. Can we go in for education together--if not at once, then afterwards? We could do good together. I won't be a general's daughter any more! Tell me, are you a very learned man?"
"Oh no; not at all."
"Oh-h-h! I'm sorry for that. I thought you were. I wonder why I always thought so--but at all events you'll help me, won't you? Because I've chosen you, you know."
"Aglaya Ivanovna, it's absurd."
But I will, I WILL run away!" she cried--and her eyes flashed again with anger--"and if you don't agree I shall go and marry Gavrila Ardalionovitch! I won't be considered a horrible girl, and accused of goodness knows what."
"Are you out of your mind?" cried the prince, almost starting from his seat. "What do they accuse you of? Who accuses you?"
"At home, everybody, mother, my sisters, Prince S., even that detestable Colia! If they don't say it, they think it. I told them all so to their faces. I told mother and father and everybody. Mamma was ill all the day after it, and next day father and Alexandra told me that I didn't understand what nonsense I was talking. I informed them that they little knew me-- I was not a small child--I understood every word in the language-- that I had read a couple of Paul de Kok's novels two years since on purpose, so as to know all about everything. No sooner did mamma hear me say this than she nearly fainted!"
A strange thought passed through the prince's brain; he gazed intently at Aglaya and smiled.
He could not believe that this was the same haughty young girl who had once so proudly shown him Gania's letter. He could not understand how that proud and austere beauty could show herself to be such an utter child--a child who probably did not even now understand some words.
"Have you always lived at home, Aglaya Ivanovna?" he asked. "I mean, have you never been to school, or college, or anything?"
"No--never--nowhere! I've been at home all my life, corked up in a bottle; and they expect me to be married straight out of it. What are you laughing at again? I observe that you, too, have taken to laughing at me, and range yourself on their side against me," she added, frowning angrily. "Don't irritate me--I'm bad enough without that--I don't know what I am doing sometimes. I am persuaded that you came here today in the full belief that I am in love with you, and that I arranged this meeting because of that," she cried, with annoyance.
"I admit I was afraid that that was the case, yesterday," blundered the prince (he was rather confused), "but today I am quite convinced that "
"How?" cried Aglaya--and her lower lip trembled violently. "You were AFRAID that I--you dared to think that I--good gracious! you suspected, perhaps, that I sent for you to come here in order to catch you in a trap, so that they should find us here together, and make you marry me--"
"Aglaya Ivanovna, aren't you ashamed of saying such a thing? How could such a horrible idea enter your sweet, innocent heart? I am certain you don't believe a word of what you say, and probably you don't even know what you are talking about."
Aglaya sat with her eyes on the ground; she seemed to have alarmed even herself by what she had said.
"No, I'm not; I'm not a bit ashamed!" she murmured. "And how do you know my heart is innocent? And how dared you send me a love-- letter that time?"
"LOVE-LETTER? My letter a love-letter? That letter was the most respectful of letters; it went straight from my heart, at what was perhaps the most painful moment of my life! I thought of you at the time as a kind of light. I--"
"Well, very well, very well!" she said, but quite in a different tone. She was remorseful now, and bent forward to touch his shoulder, though still trying not to look him in the face, as if the more persuasively to beg him not to be angry with her. "Very well," she continued, looking thoroughly ashamed of herself, "I feel that I said a very foolish thing. I only did it just to try you. Take it as unsaid, and if I offended you, forgive me. Don't look straight at me like that, please; turn your head away. You called it a 'horrible idea'; I only said it to shock you. Very often I am myself afraid of saying what I intend to say, and out it comes all the same. You have just told me that you wrote that letter at the most painful moment of your life. I know what moment that was!" she added softly, looking at the ground again.
"Oh, if you could know all!"
"I DO know all!" she cried, with another burst of indignation. "You were living in the same house as that horrible woman with whom you ran away." She did not blush as she said this; on the contrary, she grew pale, and started from her seat, apparently oblivious of what she did, and immediately sat down again. Her lip continued to tremble for a long time.
There was silence for a moment. The prince was taken aback by the suddenness of this last reply, and did not know to what he should attribute it.
"I don't love you a bit!" she said suddenly, just as though the words had exploded from her mouth.
The prince did not answer, and there was silence again. "I love Gavrila Ardalionovitch," she said, quickly; but hardly audibly, and with her head bent lower than ever.
"That is NOT true," said the prince, in an equally low voice.
"What! I tell stories, do I? It is true! I gave him my promise a couple of days ago on this very seat."
The prince was startled, and reflected for a moment.
"It is not true," he repeated, decidedly; "you have just invented it!"
"You are wonderfully polite. You know he is greatly improved. He loves me better than his life. He let his hand burn before my very eyes in order to prove to me that he loved me better than his life!"
"He burned his hand!"
"Yes, believe it or not! It's all the same to me!"
The prince sat silent once more. Aglaya did not seem to be joking; she was too angry for that.
"What! he brought a candle with him to this place? That is, if the episode happened here; otherwise I can't "
"Yes, a candle! What's there improbable about that?"
"A whole one, and in a candlestick?"
"Yes--no-half a candle--an end, you know--no, it was a whole candle; it's all the same. Be quiet, can't you! He brought a box of matches too, if you like, and then lighted the candle and held his finger in it for half an hour and more!--There! Can't that be?"
"I saw him yesterday, and his fingers were all right!"
Aglaya suddenly burst out laughing, as simply as a child.
"Do you know why I have just told you these lies?" She appealed to the prince, of a sudden, with the most childlike candour, and with the laugh still trembling on her lips. "Because when one tells a lie, if one insists on something unusual and eccentric-- something too 'out of the way'' for anything, you know--the more impossible the thing is, the more plausible does the lie sound. I've noticed this. But I managed it badly; I didn't know how to work it." She suddenly frowned again at this point as though at some sudden unpleasant recollection.
"If"--she began, looking seriously and even sadly at him-- "if when I read you all that about the 'poor knight,' I wished to-to praise you for one thing--I also wished to show you that I knew all--and did not approve of your conduct."
"You are very unfair to me, and to that unfortunate woman of whom you spoke just now in such dreadful terms, Aglaya."
"Because I know all, all--and that is why I speak so. I know very well how you--half a year since--offered her your hand before everybody. Don't interrupt me. You see, I am merely stating facts without any comment upon them. After that she ran away with Rogojin. Then you lived with her at some village or town, and she ran away from you." (Aglaya blushed dreadfully.) "Then she returned to Rogojin again, who loves her like a madman. Then you --like a wise man as you are--came back here after her as soon as ever you heard that she had returned to Petersburg. Yesterday evening you sprang forward to protect her, and just now you dreamed about her. You see, I know all. You did come back here for her, for her--now didn't you?"
"Yes--for her!" said the prince softly and sadly, and bending his head down, quite unconscious of the fact that Aglaya was gazing at him with eyes which burned like live coals. "I came to find out something--I don't believe in her future happiness as Rogojin's wife, although--in a word, I did not know how to help her or what to do for her--but I came, on the chance."
He glanced at Aglaya, who was listening with a look of hatred on her face.
"If you came without knowing why, I suppose you love her very much indeed!" she said at last.
"No," said the prince, "no, I do not love her. Oh! if you only knew with what horror I recall the time I spent with her!"
A shudder seemed to sweep over his whole body at the recollection.
"Tell me about it," said Aglaya.
"There is nothing which you might not hear. Why I should wish to tell you, and only you, this experience of mine, I really cannot say; perhaps it really is because I love you very much. This unhappy woman is persuaded that she is the most hopeless, fallen creature in the world. Oh, do not condemn her! Do not cast stones at her! She has suffered too much already in the consciousness of her own undeserved shame.
"And she is not guilty--oh God!--Every moment she bemoans and bewails herself, and cries out that she does not admit any guilt, that she is the victim of circumstances--the victim of a wicked libertine.
"But whatever she may say, remember that she does not believe it herself,--remember that she will believe nothing but that she is a guilty creature.
"When I tried to rid her soul of this gloomy fallacy, she suffered so terribly that my heart will never be quite at peace so long as I can remember that dreadful time!--Do you know why she left me? Simply to prove to me what is not true--that she is base. But the worst of it is, she did not realize herself that that was all she wanted to prove by her departure! She went away in response to some inner prompting to do something disgraceful, in order that she might say to herself--'There--you've done a new act of shame--you degraded creature!'
"Oh, Aglaya--perhaps you cannot understand all this. Try to realize that in the perpetual admission of guilt she probably finds some dreadful unnatural satisfaction--as though she were revenging herself upon someone.
"Now and then I was able to persuade her almost to see light around her again; but she would soon fall, once more, into her old tormenting delusions, and would go so far as to reproach me for placing myself on a pedestal above her (I never had an idea of such a thing!), and informed me, in reply to my proposal of marriage, that she 'did not want condescending sympathy or help from anybody.' You saw her last night. You don't suppose she can be happy among such people as those--you cannot suppose that such society is fit for her? You have no idea how well-educated she is, and what an intellect she has! She astonished me sometimes."
"And you preached her sermons there, did you?"
"Oh no," continued the prince thoughtfully, not noticing Aglaya's mocking tone, "I was almost always silent there. I often wished to speak, but I really did not know what to say. In some cases it is best to say nothing, I think. I loved her, yes, I loved her very much indeed; but afterwards--afterwards she guessed all."
"What did she guess?"
"That I only PITIED her--and--and loved her no longer!"
"How do you know that? How do you know that she is not really in love with that--that rich cad--the man she eloped with?"
"Oh no! I know she only laughs at him; she has made a fool of him all along."
"Has she never laughed at you?"
"No--in anger, perhaps. Oh yes! she reproached me dreadfully in anger; and suffered herself, too! But afterwards--oh! don't remind me--don't remind me of that!"
He hid his face in his hands.
"Are you aware that she writes to me almost every day?"
"So that is true, is it?" cried the prince, greatly agitated. "I had heard a report of it, but would not believe it."
"Whom did you hear it from?" asked Aglaya, alarmed. "Rogojin said something about it yesterday, but nothing definite."
"Yesterday! Morning or evening? Before the music or after?"
"After--it was about twelve o'clock."
"Ah! Well, if it was Rogojin--but do you know what she writes to me about?"
"I should not be surprised by anything. She is mad!"
"There are the letters." (Aglaya took three letters out of her pocket and threw them down before the prince.) "For a whole week she has been entreating and worrying and persuading me to marry you. She--well, she is clever, though she may be mad--much cleverer than I am, as you say. Well, she writes that she is in love with me herself, and tries to see me every day, if only from a distance. She writes that you love me, and that she has long known it and seen it, and that you and she talked about me-- there. She wishes to see you happy, and she says that she is certain only I can ensure you the happiness you deserve. She writes such strange, wild letters--I haven't shown them to anyone. Now, do you know what all this means? Can you guess anything?"
"It is madness--it is merely another proof of her insanity!" said the prince, and his lips trembled.
"You are crying, aren't you?"
"No, Aglaya. No, I'm not crying." The prince looked at her.
"Well, what am I to do? What do you advise me? I cannot go on receiving these letters, you know."
"Oh, let her alone, I entreat you!" cried the prince. What can you do in this dark, gloomy mystery? Let her alone, and I'll use all my power to prevent her writing you any more letters."
"If so, you are a heartless man!" cried Aglaya. As if you can't see that it is not myself she loves, but you, you, and only you! Surely you have not remarked everything else in her, and only not THIS? Do you know what these letters mean? They mean jealousy, sir--nothing but pure jealousy! She--do you think she will ever really marry this Rogojin, as she says here she will? She would take her own life the day after you and I were married."
The prince shuddered; his heart seemed to freeze within him. He gazed at Aglaya in wonderment; it was difficult for him to realize that this child was also a woman.
"God knows, Aglaya, that to restore her peace of mind and make her happy I would willingly give up my life. But I cannot love her, and she knows that."
"Oh, make a sacrifice of yourself! That sort of thing becomes you well, you know. Why not do it? And don't call me 'Aglaya'; you have done it several times lately. You are bound, it is your DUTY to 'raise' her; you must go off somewhere again to soothe and pacify her. Why, you love her, you know!"
"I cannot sacrifice myself so, though I admit I did wish to do so once. Who knows, perhaps I still wish to! But I know for CERTAIN, that if she married me it would be her ruin; I know this and therefore I leave her alone. I ought to go to see her today; now I shall probably not go. She is proud, she would never forgive me the nature of the love I bear her, and we should both be ruined. This may be unnatural, I don't know; but everything seems unnatural. You say she loves me, as if this were LOVE! As if she could love ME, after what I have been through! No, no, it is not love."
"How pale you have grown!" cried Aglaya in alarm.
Oh, it's nothing. I haven't slept, that's all, and I'm rather tired. I--we certainly did talk about you, Aglaya."
"Oh, indeed, it is true then! YOU COULD ACTUALLY TALK ABOUT ME WITH HER; and--and how could you have been fond of me when you had only seen me once?"
"I don't know. Perhaps it was that I seemed to come upon light in the midst of my gloom. I told you the truth when I said I did not know why I thought of you before all others. Of course it was all a sort of dream, a dream amidst the horrors of reality. Afterwards I began to work. I did not intend to come back here for two or three years--"
"Then you came for her sake?" Aglaya's voice trembled.
"Yes, I came for her sake."
There was a moment or two of gloomy silence. Aglaya rose from her seat.
"If you say," she began in shaky tones, "if you say that this woman of yours is mad--at all events I have nothing to do with her insane fancies. Kindly take these three letters, Lef Nicolaievitch, and throw them back to her, from me. And if she dares," cried Aglaya suddenly, much louder than before, "if she dares so much as write me one word again, tell her I shall tell my father, and that she shall be taken to a lunatic asylum."
The prince jumped up in alarm at Aglaya's sudden wrath, and a mist seemed to come before his eyes.
"You cannot really feel like that! You don't mean what you say. It is not true," he murmured.
"It IS true, it IS true," cried Aglaya, almost beside herself with rage.
"What's true? What's all this? What's true?" said an alarmed voice just beside them.
Before them stood Lizabetha Prokofievna.
"Why, it's true that I am going to marry Gavrila Ardalionovitch, that I love him and intend to elope with him tomorrow," cried Aglaya, turning upon her mother. "Do you hear? Is your curiosity satisfied? Are you pleased with what you have heard?"
Aglaya rushed away homewards with these words.
"H'm! well, YOU are not going away just yet, my friend, at all events," said Lizabetha, stopping the prince. "Kindly step home with me, and let me have a little explanation of the mystery. Nice goings on, these! I haven't slept a wink all night as it is."
The prince followed her.

她笑着，但她也很气愤。
“睡着了！您睡着了！”她带着轻蔑而又惊讶的口吻嚷着。
“是您！”公爵喃喃着，他还没有完全清醒，一边惊诧地认着她，“啊，对了！这是约好的……我在这儿睡着了。”
“我看见了。”
“除了您，没有人叫醒我吗、除了您，这里没有人来过吗？我以为，还会有……另一个女人来过……，’
“这里是有另一个女人来过……”
最后，他完全清醒了。
“这只是个梦，”他若有所思地说，“奇怪的是，在这种时刻做这样的梦。请坐。”
他握着她的手，让她坐到长椅上；自己则坐到她旁边，陷入了沉思。阿格拉娅并不忙讲话，而只是专注地打量着自己的谈话对方。他也望着她，像有时仿佛根本没有见到她在自己面前。她开始脸红了。
“啊，对了！”公爵颤粟了一下，说，“伊波利特开熗自杀了！”
“什么时候？在您那里吗？”她问着，但是并没显得大大的惊异，，‘昨天晚上他不是好像还活着的吗？发生所有这一切事后，您怎么还能在这睡觉？”她突然振奋起来，高声说。
“要知道他没有死，熗没有打响。”
在阿格拉娅的坚持下，公爵只得立即而且甚至为她详细地叙述了昨夜发生事情的全部经过。她不时地催促他快讲下去，可自己又不断地提问打断他，提的几乎全是无关紧要的问题。顺便说一句，她怀着极大的好奇听完公爵转述叶甫盖尼·帕夫洛维奇说了些什么，有好几次甚至重问了什么。
“好了，够了，应该快点，”她听完了一切，最后说，“我们在这里一共只有一个小时时间，到８点钟为止，因为８点钟时我一定必须得在家里，免得他们知道我曾经在这里，而我是有事才来的，我有许多事需要告诉您。只不过现在您全把我搞糊涂了。关于伊波利特的事，我想，他的手熗就会是打不响的，这比较符合他这个人的情况。但是您深信他肯定想自杀，这里没有欺骗，是吗？”
“没有任何欺骗。”
“这也有可能。他在《解释》里是写了，要您把他的‘自白”带来给我吗？您又为什么不带来呢？”
“他不是没有死吗？我以后问他要。”
“一定要带来，没必要间他要。这一定会使他感到很愉快，因为他也许正是带了这样的目的才朝自己开熗的，要我以后读他的‘自白’。请您别笑话我这些话，别夫·尼古拉那维奇，因为很可能是这么一回事。”
“我不会笑话的，因为我自己也深信，在某种程度上很可能是这样的。”
“您也深信？难道您也这么想？”阿格拉娅突然惊诧得不得了。
她问得很快，说得也很急，但有时似乎离题，常常没有把话说完；她还不时地急于提出什么警告；总之她异常忐忑不安，尽管她看人的时候很大胆，还含着某种挑衅的意味，但也许实际上是有点心虚的。她身上穿的是最普通的家常连衣裙，这跟她很相称。她常常打颤，脸色绯红，坐在长椅边上。公爵也确认伊波利特开熗自杀是为了使她读他的“自白”，这使她非常惊讶。
“当然，”公爵解释说，“他是想，除您以外，我们大家都称赞他……”
“怎么称赞？”
“也就是，这……怎么对您说呢？这很难说。只不过他一定很想大家围着他并对他说，大家很爱他、尊敬他，大家都竭力劝他要活下去。很可能他最牢记的就是您，因为在这种时刻他还提到您……尽管也许他自己也不知道，他牢记着您。”
“这我就完全不明白了：牢记的是我，却又不知道牢记着我。不过，好像我是能理解的：知道吗，当我还只是个１３岁小姑娘的时候，我自己就曾经有３０次想过要服毒自杀，并打算把这一切写信告诉父母，也曾经想过我躺在棺材里的样子，大家将为我哭泣，并责怪自己对我那么无情……您干吗又笑了？”她皱了皱眉，很快地补了一句说，“当您一个人逻想的时候，您还暗自想过什么？也许，您把自己想像成陆军元帅，并且击溃了拿破仑。”
“嗯，说实话，我是这样想过的，特别是要入睡的时候，”公爵笑起来说，“只不过我击溃的不是拿破仑，而全是奥地利兵。”
“我根本不想跟您开玩笑，列夫·尼古拉那维奇。我自己会去看伊波利特的，请您先向他打个招呼。而从您这方面来说，我认为所有这一切都是很不好的，因为像您这样评判伊波利特，这样剖视和评判一个人的心灵，是很粗暴无礼的。您没有一点温情，只有实话，因而也就不公正。”
公爵思忖起来。
“我觉得，您对我是不公正的，”他说，“因为我并没有认为他这样想有什么不好；何况，也许他根本就没有想过，而仅仅是想……他想最后一次跟人们相会，赢得他们的尊敬和喜爱，这可是很好的感情，只不过不知怎么的结果却不是这样；这里是因为他有病，还有什么其他原因！再说，有些人一切总是有好结果，另一些人则干什么都不像……”
“您这大概是把自己的情况也加进去了吧？”阿格拉娅指出。
“是的，是在说自己，”公爵丝毫没有发觉这一间话中的幸灾乐祸的含意，回答说。
“只不过，我要是处于您的位置，反正无论如何也是睡不着的；看来，您随便往哪儿一呆，马上就能在那儿睡着；这对您来说是很不好的。”
“要知道我整夜没有睡，后来又走来走去的，又曾去了音乐会……”
“什么音乐会？”
“就是昨天演出的地方，后来来到这里，坐下来，想着想着就睡着了。”
“啊，原来是这样的。这就情有可原了……那您为什么要到听音乐的地方去？”
“我不知道，就这么……”
“好，好，以后再说；您老晕打断我，而且您到听音乐的地方去，跟我又有什么相于？您这是梦见了哪个女人？”
“这……是……您没有见过的……”
“我明白了，非常明白。您对她很……您怎么梦见她的？她什么样子？其实，我一点也不想知道。”抛突然懊恼地毫不客气地说，“别打断我……”
她等了一会，似乎是要鼓足勇气或者竭力想驱赶烦恼。
“我把您叫来是为了这么一回事：我想向您提议做我的朋友。您干吗老这样盯着我？”她几乎愤怒地补了一句。
公爵这一刻确实很专注地看着她，因为他发觉她的脸又开始涨红得不了，在这种情况下她越是脸红，好像就越是为此而生自己的气，这甚至在她灼灼发亮的眼睛里也明显地流露出来；通常过一分钟她就已经迁怒于与她话的人，不管对方是否有过错，她就开始跟他争吵起来。她知道自己的古怪和怕难为情，因此通常很少参与交谈，比她的两个姐姐寡言少语，有时甚显得过于沉默。有时候，特别是在这种微妙的场合，必须得开口说话，那她说起来总带着一种不同寻常的高傲，仿佛是有某种挑衅的意味。她总预先就能感觉到什么时候开始或者想开始脸红。
“也许，您不想接受这一提议？”她傲慢地望了一眼公爵。
“哦，不，我想，只是这完全没有必要……也就是说，我怎么也没有想过需要这样提出建议，”公爵窘困地说。
“那么您想到了什么？为了什么我把您叫到这里来呢？您头脑里在想什么？不过，也许您认为我是个小傻瓜，就像家里大家这么认为的一样。”
“我不知道他认为您是傻瓜，我……我不这么认为。”
“您不认为？您很聪明。说得尤其聪明。”
“据我看，您有时候甚至可能很聪明，”公爵继续说，“您刚才突然说了句非常聪明的活。您说出了我对伊波利特的疑虑：‘这里光只有真话，因而就是不公正的’。我记住了这一点并在仔细思量，”
阿格拉娅一下子高兴得脸上泛起红早。所有这些变化在她身上发生得非常坦率，而且非常迅速。公爵也很高兴，甚至望着她，高兴得笑起来。
“听着，”她又开始说，“我等了您很久，为的是对您讲这一切，自您从那里给我写那封信那个时候起我就等了，甚至还要早……昨天您已经从我那听到了一半了：我认为您是最正直最诚实的人，比所有的人都正直和诚实。如果人家说您，说您的头脑……也就是您有时候头脑有病，那么这是不公正的，我是这样认定的并且跟他们争论，因为即使您真的头脑有病（当然，您对此不要生气，我是从最严重的情况来说的），可是您头脑的主要部分是比他们，比所有的人都更聪颖的，这样的头脑他们做梦也想不到，因为有两种头脑：主要的和非主要的。是这样吗？不是这样吗？”
“也许是这样，”公爵勉强说出话来；他的心回得厉害，怦怦跳个不停。
“我就知道，您是能理解的，”她一本正经地继续说，“ω公爵和叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇就一点也不理解这两种头脑的说法，亚历山德拉也是，不过您请设想一下：妈妈倒是理解的。”
“您很像叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜。”
“这怎么会呢？难道是这样吗？”阿格拉娅惊异地说。
“真的；是这样。”
“我感谢您，”她想了一下说，“说我像妈妈，我很高兴。看来，您很尊敬她？”她添了一句，并没有意识到这话问得很幼稚。
“非常非常尊敬，我很高兴，您这样干脆地理解了这一点。”
“我也高兴，因为我发现，有时人家……笑话她。但是请听主要的：我想了很久，最后选择了您。我不想让家里人笑话我；我也不希望人家认为我是个小傻瓜；我也不愿意人家逗弄我……我一下子明白了这一切，就坚决拒绝了叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇，因为我不想让人家不断地操心把我嫁出去！我想……我想……嗯，我想从家里逃走，而我之所以选择了您，是希望您能帮助我。”
“从家里逃走！”公爵大声嚷了起来。
“是的，是的，是的，从家里逃走！”她突然喊道，进发出一种异常的愤怒。“我不想，我不愿意在那里永远弄得我脸红。无论是在我家里人面前，还是在ω公爵面前，无论是在叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇面前，还是在谁面前，我都不愿意脸红，因此我才选择了您。我想跟您谈论一切，一切，甚至，当我想谈的时候，跟您谈论最主要的事情，从您这方面来说，也不应该对我隐瞒什么。我希望哪怕是有一个人可以什么都谈，就像跟自己谈一样。他们突然开始说，我在等您，我爱您。还在您来以前就这么说了，而我没有把信拿给他们看；而现在大家已经都在这么说了。我想做个勇敢的人，什么都不怕。我不愿意去参加各种舞会，我想做能带来益处的事。我早就想离开了。我被关在他们那里２０年，而且老是要把我嫁出去，还是１４岁的时候我就想逃走，尽管那时还是个傻瓜。现在我已全部盘算过，并且等您来，好向您打听国外的一切情况。我一座哥特式教堂也没有见过，我想去罗马，我想参观所有学者的书房，我想在巴黎学习；最近这一年我做着准备，学习，读了许多书；我读了所有的禁书。亚历山德拉和阿杰莱达可以读所有的书，她们可以，而对我则不是全给读，对我有监督。我不想跟姐姐们争吵，但是我早就向母亲和父亲宣布，我想彻底改变我的社会地位。我决定从事教育工作，我指望着您，因为您说过，您爱孩子们。我们可以一起搞教育，即使不是现在，也可以在将来，怎么样？我们将一起给人们带来益处；我不想做将军的女儿……您说，您是个很有学问的人吗？”
“哦，根本不是。”
“这很遗憾，而我以为……我怎么会这么想的呢？您反正得指导我，因为我选择了您。”
“这很荒唐，阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜。”
“我想，我想从家里逃走！”她喊道，她的眼睛又闪闪发亮，“如果您不愿意，那么我就嫁给加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇。我不希望家里人把我看作是个令人讨厌的女人或者天晓得为什么指责我。”
“您神经正常吗？”公爵差点从椅子上跳起来，“指责您什么？谁指责您？”
“家里所有的人，母亲，姐姐们，父亲，ω公爵，甚至您那可恶的科利亚。如果他们不是直截了当地说，那么也是这么想的。我当着他们大家的面说这点的，对母亲、对父亲都说了，妈妈因此病了一整天，第二天亚历山德拉和爸爸对我说，我自己也不明白我是在撒谎，也不明白究竟说了什么话。我立即干脆地加以驳斥说，我已经明白了一切，明白了所有讲的话，我已经不是小孩子了，还在两年前我就故意读了保尔·德·科克＊的两本小说，为的是了解一切。妈妈一听说，差点没昏倒。”
公爵突然闪过一个奇怪的念头。他凝神望着阿格拉陋，莞尔一笑。
他甚至不相信，在他面前坐着的竟是那个高傲姑娘，她曾经那么傲慢地给他念加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇的信。他不能理解，这么一位目中无人、冷酷无情的美人，竟然会是这么一个孩子，也许，现在真的甚至不对所有的话都理解的孩子。
“您过去一直在家里生活吗，阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜？”他问，“我想说，您从来也没有到哪儿去上过什么学校，没有在贵族女子中学念过书？”
“任何时候、任何地方都没有去过，一直在家里呆着，就像把我塞在瓶子里似的，然后直接从瓶子里放出来就嫁人；您干吗又笑了？我发觉，您好像也在嘲笑我，支持他们这一切，”她威严地显露出温色，补了一句，“请别生我气，我本来就不知道我究竟怎么了……我确信，您到这里来满怀着信心，认为我爱上了您，叫您来约会，”她气冲冲地断然说。
＊法国通俗小说家（１７９４一１８７１）。
“昨天我确实曾害怕是这样，”公爵憨厚地说走了嘴（他非常窘困），“但今天我确信，您……”
“什么！”阿格拉娅高声喊了出来，下唇突然问动起来，“您害怕我……您竟敢认为我……天哪！您大概怀疑，我叫您到这儿来是要诱您上圈套，然后让别人在这里撞见我们，迫使您跟我结婚……”
“阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜！您怎么不容臊？在您纯洁之暇的心灵中怎么会产生这么肮脏的念头？我敢打赌，您自己也不相信您说的任何一句话……而且您自己也不知道，您说了些什么！”
阿格拉娅坐着，固执地低着头，仿佛自己也为刚才所说的话吓坏了。
一我根本不觉得害臊，”她低声说，“凭什么您知道我的心灵是纯洁无暇的？那时您怎么敢给我寄情书的？”
“情书？我的信是情书！这封信是最恭敬的信，这封信是在我生活中最艰难的时刻内心的流露！我当时想起您就像见到光明一样……我……”
“好了，好，好，”突然她打断他，但完全已经不是刚才那种口气，而是充满了懊悔，几乎吓坏了。她甚至向他俯下身去，依然竭力不照直望着他，想要触摸他的肩膀，为的是更加恳切地请求他不要生气，“好，”她十分不好意思地补充说，“我觉得，刚才我用了非常愚蠢的词语。我这是……为了试试您。您就当作仿佛没有说过这活，如果我得罪了您，那么请原谅。请别直盯着我看，转过脸去吧：您说这是很肮脏的念头：我这是故意说的，为了刺激您。有时候我自己也害怕我想说的话，可还是突然说出来了。您刚才说，您是在生活中最艰难的时刻写这封信的……我知道，这是在什么时候，”她又望着地上，轻轻地说。
“啊，假若您全能知道就好了！”
“我全都知道！”她涌上一阵新的激动，大声嚷道，“那时您跟您与之私奔的这个下流女人在一套房间住了整整一个月……”
她说这话的时候已经不是脸红而是变苍白了。她突然从椅子上站起身，仿佛按捺不住自己，但马上就醒悟过来，又坐下了。她的下唇仍继续久久地哆嗦哼着。沉默延续了约１分钟。公爵被这突如其来的异常举动搞得惊讶得不得了，甚至不道该把它归咎干什么。
“我根本不爱您，”她突然仿佛是斩钉戳铁地说。
公爵没有回答；他们又沉默了约１分钟。
“我爱加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇……”她说得很快，但是勉强可闻，同时头则重得更低了。
“这不是真活，”公爵也几乎用低语说。
“这么说，我在撒谎？这是真话；我答应了他，是前天，就在这张长椅上。”
公爵大吃一惊：，有一瞬间陷了沉思之中。
“这不是真活，”他坚决地重复说，“这一切您全是杜撰。”
“可真是谦恭得惊人！您要知道，他已经改正了；他爱我甚于爱自己的生命。他当我面烫了自己的手，仅仅为了表明爱我甚于爱自己的生命。”
“烫了自己的手？”
“是的，自己的手。您相信不相信，对我来说反正无所谓。”
公爵又默不作声。阿格拉娅的话里没有玩笑的意思；她生气了。
“怎么，既然是在这里发生的，他到这里来难道还随身带了蜡烛？不然我难以想象……”。
“是的……带了蜡烛。这有什么不可思议的？”
“是整支蜡烛还是烛台上点剩的？”
“嗯……是的……不是……是半支蜡烛……是蜡烛头……是整支蜡烛，反正一样，您别再纠缠了！……如果您知道。还带了火柴。他点燃了蜡烛，把手指放在蜡烛上整整半个小时；难通这不可能吗？”
“我昨天看见过他；他的手指头好好的。”
阿格拉娅突然笑得跳了起来，完全像个孩子一样。
“知道吗，我为什么现在要撒谎？”忽然她转向公爵，带着最最孩子气的信赖和在唇间颤动的笑声说，“因为当你说谎话的时候，要是巧妙地插进什么不同寻常、怪诞离奇的事情，哈，知道吗，要是什么给人十分强烈印象的事或者甚至根本就没有的事，这样这个谎就变得可信得多。我注意这一点了。只不过我做的不高明，因为我不会……”
忽然她又阴沉起来，似乎醒悟过来了。
“如果当时，”她对公爵说，一边严肃甚至忧郁地望着他，“如果当时我向您念了‘可怜的骑士’的诗，那么我至少是想以此……为一件事赞扬您，但是同时也想为您的行为痛斥您，并让您看看，我全都知道……”
“您对我……对那个您刚才用如此可怕的字眼提到的不幸的女人很不公正，阿格拉娅。”
“因为我全都知道，全知道，所以才用这样的字眼！我知道，半年前，您怎么当着大家的面向她求婚。别打断我，您看到，我说话不加评论。此后她跟罗戈任跑了；接着您和她住在哪个乡间或城市，她又离开您去找什么人了。（阿格拉娅脸红得不得了。）后来她又回到罗戈任那里，他爱她爱得……发疯。最后。您也是个非常聪明的人，刚一知道她回到彼得堡了，立即就跟在她后面赶到这里来了。昨天晚上您挺身保护她，现在又在梦中见到了她……您瞧，我全都知道，您不是为了她，为了她才到这里来的吗？”
“是的，是为了她，”公爵轻轻地回答说。他忧心忡忡、若有所思地低下头，同时他也不怀疑，阿格拉娅正用灼灼闪亮的目光盯着他。“为了她，只是为了知道……我不相信她限罗戈任在一起会有幸福。虽然……总之，我不知道，我在这里能为她做些什么，帮什么忙，但是我来了。”
他颤栗了一下。瞥了一眼阿格拉娅；她则憎恨地听着他说。
“如果您来而不知道来干什么，这就是说您很爱她，”她终于说。
“不，”公爵回答说，“不，我不爱她。啊，您要是知道就好了，每当我回忆起与她一起度过的那些时间，是多么可怕呀！”
在说这些话的时候他全身甚至滚过一阵颤栗。
“您把一切都说出来，”阿格拉娅说。
“这里没有丝毫您不能听的东西。为什么我正是想对您，对您一个人叙述这一切：，--我也不知道；也许，是因为我真的很爱您。这个不幸的女人深深确信，她是世界上最堕落、最淫荡的女人。哦，请别玷辱她，别向她扔石头。因为意识到自己不应蒙受的耻厚，她已经过分地折磨了自己！她有什么罪，哦，我的天哪！哦，她每时每刻都在发狂地呐喊，她不承认自己有罪，她是人们的牺牲品，是淫棍和坏蛋的牺牲品；但是无论她对您说什么，要知道，她首先自己不相信自己，她自己的全部良心都只相信，相反，是她……自己有罪。当我试图驱赶这层阴影时，她竟会那样痛苦，以致我只要记住这段可怕的时光，我心灵的创伤就永远也不会愈合。我的心就像一下子永远被刺穿了一样。她从我这儿逃走，您知道为什么吗？正是仅仅为了向我证明，她是个低贱的女人。但是最可怕的是，她自己也许并不知道，她只想向我证明这一点，她逃走是因为，她内心一定想要做一件可耻的事，为的是马上就对自己说：‘你这下犯了下新的耻辱，因此你是个低贱的东西！，哦，也许您并不理解这一点，阿格拉娅！知道吗，在她这种不断地意识到耻辱的状态中，也许包含着某种可怕的，反常的乐趣，仿佛是对谁的一种报复。有时候我开导她，使她仿佛又看到了自己周围的光明；但是她马上就表示愤慨，甚至到了这种程度：痛苦地指责我，说我把自己临驾于她之上（我连想都没想过这样），最后，对我的求婚直截了当地向我宣布，她不要求任何人给予任何高傲的同情，任何帮助，任何将她‘抬高到与自己同样地位’的做法。您昨天看见她了；难道您认为她跟这伙人在一起感到幸福，这就是她的因子？您不知道，她有多高的悟性，她能理解什么！有时候她甚至使我吃惊！”
“您在那里也给她讲这样的……大道理？”
“哦，不”公爵没有注意到问话的语气，若有所思地继续说，“我几乎一直保持沉默。我常常想说，但是，真的，我又不知道该说什么，知道吗，在有的时侯最后是根本不说话。哦，我是曾经受过她；哦，曾经很爱她……但是后来……后来……后来她全猜到了。”
“猜到什么了？”
“猜到我仅仅是怜悯她，但是我……现在已经不爱她了。”
“为什么您知道，她可能真的爱上了那个……她跟他走的地主？”
“不，我全部知道；她只不过是嘲笑他罢了。”
“那么对您她从来也不取笑吗？”
“不。她出于憎恨而嘲笑过我；哦，当时她义愤填膺，狠狠地责备我，她自己也痛苦！但是……后来……哦，别提了，别跟我提这点了！”
他双手捂住了自己的脸。
“可是您知道吗，她几乎每天都给我写信？”
“这么说，这是真的！”公爵惶惶不安地失声喊了起来，“我听说有这事，但始终不想相信。”
“您从谁那里听说的？”阿格拉娅惊吓得颤抖了一下。
“罗戈任昨天对我说的，只不过说得不大清楚。”
“昨天？昨天上午？昨天什么时候？是在听音乐前还是后？”
“在听音乐后，晚上１１点多。”
“啊，算了，既然是罗戈任……您知道，在这些信里她给我写些什么？”
“我丝毫也不感到惊奇；她是个疯女人。”
“就是这些信（阿格拉娅从口袋里掏出带信封的三封信，将它们扔到公爵面前）。瞧她已经央求、劝说、诱惑我整整一星期了，要我嫁给您。她……是的，虽然是个疯子，但是很聪明，您说得很对，她比我聪明得多……她信中对我说，她爱上了我，每天都寻找机会哪怕是从远处看到我也好。她写道，您爱我，她知道这一点，也早就发现了这一点，在那里您曾跟她谈起过我。她希望看到您幸福，她深信，只有我能构成您的幸福……她写得这么荒唐……怪诞……我没有给任何人看这些信，我等您，您知道，这意味着什么？您一点也猜不到吗？”
“这是精神失常，这是她发疯的证明，”公爵颤抖着明言说。
“您不在哭吧？”
“不，阿格拉娅，不，我没有哭。”公爵看了她一眼。
“这件事我该怎么办？您能给我出主意吗？我总不能老是收到这些信吧！”
“哦，别管她，我求求您！”公爵嚷了起来，“在这种愚昧中您又能做什么？我将尽一切努力，让她不再给您写信。”
“如果是这样，那么您就是个没有良心的人！”阿格拉娅高声嚷道，“难道您没看见，她爱上的不是我，而是您，她爱的只是您！您能觉察她身上的一切心思，难道这一点却没有觉察出来？知道吗，这算什么，这些信意味着什么？这是嫉妒，这比嫉妒更甚！她……您以为，她真的像在这些信里写的一样要嫁给罗戈任？一旦我们结婚，她第二天就会自杀！”
公爵颤栗了一下，他的心跳都屏息了。但是他惊愕地望着阿格拉娅，承认面前这个孩子早已是个女人了，对他来说感到很奇怪。
“上帝可以见到，阿格拉娅，为了使她恢复平并和得到幸福，我愿意献出我的生命，但是……我已经不能爱她了，她也知道这一点！”
“那就牺牲自己，这时您也是非常合适的！因为您就是这么一个大善人嘛。您也别称我阿格拉娅……您刚才就这么光称我阿格拉娅……您应该，您有义务使她得到新生，您应该再带她离开，使她的心平静下来，得到安抚，再说您可是爱她了！”
“我不能这样牺牲自己，虽然我有一次曾经这样想过，而且……也许现在还在想这个问题。但是我确实知道，她跟我在一起非毁了不可，因此我要离开她。今天７点钟我该去见她，现在我也许不去了。她有那样的自尊心，她永远也不会原谅我的爱的，这样我们俩都会完蛋的！这是不自然的，但是这件事上一切都是不自然的。您说，她爱我，但这难道是爱吗？在我已经忍受那一切之后，难道还能有这样的爱情？！不，这是另一回事，而不是爱情！”
“您多苍白呀！”突然阿格拉娅惊呼道。
“没关系，我睡得少，比较虚弱，我……当时我们确实谈论过您，阿格拉娅……”
“这么说这是真的了？您真的会跟她谈论我，而且……而且那时总共才到我家一次，怎么会爱我呢？”
“我不知道怎么会的；我当时混沌蒙昧，我幻想着……也许是幻觉中看到了新的曙光。我不知道对您作为第一个对象是怎么想的。我那时给您写信说我不知道，这是真话。这一切仅仅是幻想，是由于那时可怕的境遇产生的……后来我开始用功学习，本来我是三年也不会到彼得堡来的……”
“这么说，您是为她来的？”
阿格拉娅的声音有些发颤。
“是的，为她。”
双方都陷于阴郁的沉默，过了两分钟，阿格拉娅站起身。
“既然您说，”开始她不太坚定地说，既然您自己相信，这个……您的女人是个疯子，那么她那些疯疯癫癫的古怪念头跟我可毫不相干……列夫·尼古拉伊奇，请您把这三封信拿去。代我扔还给她！如果她，”突然阿格拉娅大声嚷嚷起来，“如果她敢再寄一行字给我，那么请告诉她，我就要向父亲告发，让人把她送进感化院……”
公爵跳了起来，惊恐地望着勃然发怒的阿格拉娅，突然他面前仿佛降落了一层雾幛……
“您不可能有这样的感觉……这不是真话！”他喃喃着说。
“这是真话！是真话！”阿格拉娅几乎失去自制地喊着。
“真话是什么？是什么真话？”在他们身边响起了一个惊恐的声音。
在她们面前站着叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜。
“真话就是我要嫁给加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇！就是我爱加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇，并且明天就与他从家里逃走！”阿格拉娅冲着她说，“您听见了吗？您的好奇心满足了吧？您对此满意了吧？”
说完她就跑回家去了。
“不，我的公爵爷，您现在别走。”
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 37楼  发表于: 2014-01-18 0

Part 3 Chapter 9
ARRIVED at her house, Lizabetha Prokofievna paused in the first room. She could go no farther, and subsided on to a couch quite exhausted; too feeble to remember so much as to ask the prince to take a seat. This was a large reception-room, full of flowers, and with a glass door leading into the garden.
Alexandra and Adelaida came in almost immediately, and looked inquiringly at the prince and their mother.
The girls generally rose at about nine in the morning in the country; Aglaya, of late, had been in the habit of getting up rather earlier and having a walk in the garden, but not at seven o'clock; about eight or a little later was her usual time.
Lizabetha Prokofievna, who really had not slept all night, rose at about eight on purpose to meet Aglaya in the garden and walk with her; but she could not find her either in the garden or in her own room.
This agitated the old lady considerably; and she awoke her other daughters. Next, she learned from the maid that Aglaya had gone into the park before seven o'clock. The sisters made a joke of Aglaya's last freak, and told their mother that if she went into the park to look for her, Aglaya would probably be very angry with her, and that she was pretty sure to be sitting reading on the green bench that she had talked of two or three days since, and about which she had nearly quarrelled with Prince S., who did not see anything particularly lovely in it.
Arrived at the rendezvous of the prince and her daughter, and hearing the strange words of the latter, Lizabetha Prokofievna had been dreadfully alarmed, for many reasons. However, now that she had dragged the prince home with her, she began to feel a little frightened at what she had undertaken. Why should not Aglaya meet the prince in the park and have a talk with him, even if such a meeting should be by appointment?
"Don't suppose, prince," she began, bracing herself up for the effort, "don't suppose that I have brought you here to ask questions. After last night, I assure you, I am not so exceedingly anxious to see you at all; I could have postponed the pleasure for a long while." She paused.
"But at the same time you would be very glad to know how I happened to meet Aglaya Ivanovna this morning?" The prince finished her speech for her with the utmost composure.
"Well, what then? Supposing I should like to know?" cried Lizabetha Prokofievna, blushing. "I'm sure I am not afraid of plain speaking. I'm not offending anyone, and I never wish to, and--"
"Pardon me, it is no offence to wish to know this; you are her mother. We met at the green bench this morning, punctually at seven o'clock,--according to an agreement made by Aglaya Ivanovna with myself yesterday. She said that she wished to see me and speak to me about something important. We met and conversed for an hour about matters concerning Aglaya Ivanovna herself, and that's all."
"Of course it is all, my friend. I don't doubt you for a moment," said Lizabetha Prokofievna with dignity.
"Well done, prince, capital!" cried Aglaya, who entered the room at this moment. "Thank you for assuming that I would not demean myself with lies. Come, is that enough, mamma, or do you intend to put any more questions?"
"You know I have never needed to blush before you, up to this day, though perhaps you would have been glad enough to make me," said Lizabetha Prokofievna,--with majesty. "Good-bye, prince; forgive me for bothering you. I trust you will rest assured of my unalterable esteem for you."
The prince made his bows and retired at once. Alexandra and Adelaida smiled and whispered to each other, while Lizabetha Prokofievna glared severely at them. "We are only laughing at the prince's beautiful bows, mamma," said Adelaida. "Sometimes he bows just like a meal-sack, but to-day he was like--like Evgenie Pavlovitch!"
"It is the HEART which is the best teacher of refinement and dignity, not the dancing-master," said her mother, sententiously, and departed upstairs to her own room, not so much as glancing at Aglaya.
When the prince reached home, about nine o'clock, he found Vera Lebedeff and the maid on the verandah. They were both busy trying to tidy up the place after last night's disorderly party.
"Thank goodness, we've just managed to finish it before you came in!" said Vera, joyfully.
"Good-morning! My head whirls so; I didn't sleep all night. I should like to have a nap now."
"Here, on the verandah? Very well, I'll tell them all not to come and wake you. Papa has gone out somewhere."
The servant left the room. Vera was about to follow her, but returned and approached the prince with a preoccupied air.
"Prince!" she said, "have pity on that poor boy; don't turn him out today."
"Not for the world; he shall do just as he likes."
"He won't do any harm now; and--and don't be too severe with him,"
"Oh dear no! Why--"
"And--and you won't LAUGH at him? That's the chief thing."
"Oh no! Never."
"How foolish I am to speak of such things to a man like you," said Vera, blushing. "Though you DO look tired," she added, half turning away," your eyes are so splendid at this moment--so full of happiness."
"Really?" asked the prince, gleefully, and he laughed in delight.
But Vera, simple-minded little girl that she was (just like a boy, in fact), here became dreadfully confused, of a sudden, and ran hastily out of the room, laughing and blushing.
"What a dear little thing she is," thought the prince, and immediately forgot all about her.
He walked to the far end of the verandah, where the sofa stood, with a table in front of it. Here he sat down and covered his face with his hands, and so remained for ten minutes. Suddenly he put his hand in his coat-pocket and hurriedly produced three letters.
But the door opened again, and out came Colia.
The prince actually felt glad that he had been interrupted,--and might return the letters to his pocket. He was glad of the respite.
"Well," said Colia, plunging in medias res, as he always did, "here's a go! What do you think of Hippolyte now? Don't respect him any longer, eh?"
"Why not? But look here, Colia, I'm tired; besides, the subject is too melancholy to begin upon again. How is he, though?"
"Asleep--he'll sleep for a couple of hours yet. I quite understand--you haven't slept--you walked about the park, I know. Agitation--excitement--all that sort of thing--quite natural, too!"
"How do you know I walked in the park and didn't sleep at home?"
"Vera just told me. She tried to persuade me not to come, but I couldn't help myself, just for one minute. I have been having my turn at the bedside for the last two hours; Kostia Lebedeff is there now. Burdovsky has gone. Now, lie down, prince, make yourself comfortable, and sleep well! I'm awfully impressed, you know."
"Naturally, all this--"
"No, no, I mean with the 'explanation,' especially that part of it where he talks about Providence and a future life. There is a gigantic thought there."
The prince gazed affectionately at Colia, who, of course, had come in solely for the purpose of talking about this "gigantic thought."
"But it is not any one particular thought, only; it is the general circumstances of the case. If Voltaire had written this now, or Rousseau, I should have just read it and thought it remarkable, but should not have been so IMPRESSED by it. But a man who knows for certain that he has but ten minutes to live and can talk like that--why--it's--it's PRIDE, that is! It is really a most extraordinary, exalted assertion of personal dignity, it's--it's DEFIANT! What a GIGANTIC strength of will, eh? And to accuse a fellow like that of not putting in the cap on purpose; it's base and mean! You know he deceived us last night, the cunning rascal. I never packed his bag for him, and I never saw his pistol. He packed it himself. But he put me off my guard like that, you see. Vera says you are going to let him stay on; I swear there's no danger, especially as we are always with him."
"Who was by him at night?"
"I, and Burdovsky, and Kostia Lebedeff. Keller stayed a little while, and then went over to Lebedeff's to sleep. Ferdishenko slept at Lebedeff's, too; but he went away at seven o'clock. My father is always at Lebedeff's; but he has gone out just now. I dare say Lebedeff will be coming in here directly; he has been looking for you; I don't know what he wants. Shall we let him in or not, if you are asleep? I'm going to have a nap, too. By-the- by, such a curious thing happened. Burdovsky woke me at seven, and I met my father just outside the room, so drunk, he didn't even know me. He stood before me like a log, and when he recovered himself, asked hurriedly how Hippolyte was. 'Yes,' he said, when I told him, 'that's all very well, but I REALLY came to warn you that you must be very careful what you say before Ferdishenko.' Do you follow me, prince?"
"Yes. Is it really so? However, it's all the same to us, of course."
"Of course it is; we are not a secret society; and that being the case, it is all the more curious that the general should have been on his way to wake me up in order to tell me this."
"Ferdishenko has gone, you say?"
"Yes, he went at seven o'clock. He came into the room on his way out; I was watching just then. He said he was going to spend 'the rest of the night' at Wilkin's; there's a tipsy fellow, a friend of his, of that name. Well, I'm off. Oh, here's Lebedeff himself! The prince wants to go to sleep, Lukian Timofeyovitch, so you may just go away again."
"One moment, my dear prince, just one. I must absolutely speak to you about something which is most grave," said Lebedeff, mysteriously and solemnly, entering the room with a bow and looking extremely important. He had but just returned, and carried his hat in his hand. He looked preoccupied and most unusually dignified.
The prince begged him to take a chair.
"I hear you have called twice; I suppose you are still worried about yesterday's affair."
"What, about that boy, you mean? Oh dear no, yesterday my ideas were a little--well--mixed. Today, I assure you, I shall not oppose in the slightest degree any suggestions it may please you to make."
"What's up with you this morning, Lebedeff? You look so important and dignified, and you choose your words so carefully," said the prince, smiling.
"Nicolai Ardalionovitch!" said Lebedeff, in a most amiable tone of voice, addressing the boy. "As I have a communication to make to the prince which concerns only myself--"
"Of course, of course, not my affair. All right," said Colia, and away he went.
"I love that boy for his perception," said Lebedeff, looking after him. "My dear prince," he continued, "I have had a terrible misfortune, either last night or early this morning. I cannot tell the exact time."
"What is it?"
"I have lost four hundred roubles out of my side pocket! They're gone!" said Lebedeff, with a sour smile.
"You've lost four hundred roubles? Oh! I'm sorry for that."
"Yes, it is serious for a poor man who lives by his toil."
"Of course, of course! How was it?"
"Oh, the wine is to blame, of course. I confess to you, prince, as I would to Providence itself. Yesterday I received four hundred roubles from a debtor at about five in the afternoon, and came down here by train. I had my purse in my pocket. When I changed, I put the money into the pocket of my plain clothes, intending to keep it by me, as I expected to have an applicant for it in the evening."
"It's true then, Lebedeff, that you advertise to lend money on gold or silver articles?"
"Yes, through an agent. My own name doesn't appear. I have a large family, you see, and at a small percentage--"
"Quite so, quite so. I only asked for information--excuse the question. Go on."
"Well, meanwhile that sick boy was brought here, and those guests came in, and we had tea, and--well, we made merry--to my ruin! Hearing of your birthday afterwards, and excited with the circumstances of the evening, I ran upstairs and changed my plain clothes once more for my uniform [Civil Service clerks in Russia wear uniform.]--you must have noticed I had my uniform on all the evening? Well, I forgot the money in the pocket of my old coat-- you know when God will ruin a man he first of all bereaves him of his senses--and it was only this morning at half-past seven that I woke up and grabbed at my coat pocket, first thing. The pocket was empty--the purse gone, and not a trace to be found!"
"Dear me! This is very unpleasant!"
"Unpleasant! Indeed it is. You have found a very appropriate expression," said Lebedeff, politely, but with sarcasm.
"But what's to be done? It's a serious matter," said the prince, thoughtfully. "Don't you think you may have dropped it out of your pocket whilst intoxicated?"
"Certainly. Anything is possible when one is intoxicated, as you neatly express it, prince. But consider--if I, intoxicated or not, dropped an object out of my pocket on to the ground, that object ought to remain on the ground. Where is the object, then?"
"Didn't you put it away in some drawer, perhaps?"
"I've looked everywhere, and turned out everything."
"I confess this disturbs me a good deal. Someone must have picked it up, then."
"Or taken it out of my pocket--two alternatives."
"It is very distressing, because WHO--? That's the question!"
"Most undoubtedly, excellent prince, you have hit it--that is the very question. How wonderfully you express the exact situation in a few words!"
"Come, come, Lebedeff, no sarcasm! It's a serious--"
"Sarcasm!" cried Lebedeff, wringing his hands. "All right, all right, I'm not angry. I'm only put out about this. Whom do you suspect?"
"That is a very difficult and complicated question. I cannot suspect the servant, for she was in the kitchen the whole evening, nor do I suspect any of my children."
"I should think not. Go on."
"Then it must be one of the guests."
"Is such a thing possible?"
"Absolutely and utterly impossible--and yet, so it must be. But one thing I am sure of, if it be a theft, it was committed, not in the evening when we were all together, but either at night or early in the morning; therefore, by one of those who slept here. Burdovsky and Colia I except, of course. They did not even come into my room."
"Yes, or even if they had! But who did sleep with you?" "Four of us, including myself, in two rooms. The general, myself, Keller, and Ferdishenko. One of us four it must have been. I don't suspect myself, though such cases have been known."
"Oh! DO go on, Lebedeff! Don't drag it out so."
"Well, there are three left, then--Keller firstly. He is a drunkard to begin with, and a liberal (in the sense of other people's pockets), otherwise with more of the ancient knight about him than of the modern liberal. He was with the sick man at first, but came over afterwards because there was no place to lie down in the room and the floor was so hard."
"You suspect him?"
"I DID suspect him. When I woke up at half-past seven and tore my hair in despair for my loss and carelessness, I awoke the general, who was sleeping the sleep of innocence near me. Taking into consideration the sudden disappearance of Ferdishenko, which was suspicious in itself, we decided to search Keller, who was lying there sleeping like a top. Well, we searched his clothes thoroughly, and not a farthing did we find; in fact, his pockets all had holes in them. We found a dirty handkerchief, and a love- letter from some scullery-maid. The general decided that he was innocent. We awoke him for further inquiries, and had the greatest difficulty in making him understand what was up. He opened his mouth and stared--he looked so stupid and so absurdly innocent. It wasn't Keller."
"Oh, I'm so glad!" said the prince, joyfully. "I was so afraid."
"Afraid! Then you had some grounds for supposing he might be the culprit?" said Lebedeff, frowning.
"Oh no--not a bit! It was foolish of me to say I was afraid! Don't repeat it please, Lebedeff, don't tell anyone I said that!"
"My dear prince! your words lie in the lowest depth of my heart-- it is their tomb!" said Lebedeff, solemnly, pressing his hat to the region of his heart.
"Thanks; very well. Then I suppose it's Ferdishenko; that is, I mean, you suspect Ferdishenko?"
"Whom else?" said Lebedeff, softly, gazing intently into the prince s face.
"Of course--quite so, whom else? But what are the proofs?"
"We have evidence. In the first place, his mysterious disappearance at seven o'clock, or even earlier."
"I know, Colia told me that he had said he was off to--I forget the name, some friend of his, to finish the night."
"H'm! then Colia has spoken to you already?"
"Not about the theft."
"He does not know of it; I have kept it a secret. Very well, Ferdishenko went off to Wilkin's. That is not so curious in itself, but here the evidence opens out further. He left his address, you see, when he went. Now prince, consider, why did he leave his address? Why do you suppose he went out of his way to tell Colia that he had gone to Wilkin's? Who cared to know that he was going to Wilkin's? No, no! prince, this is finesse, thieves' finesse! This is as good as saying, 'There, how can I be a thief when I leave my address? I'm not concealing my movements as a thief would.' Do you understand, prince?"
"Oh yes, but that is not enough."
"Second proof. The scent turns out to be false, and the address given is a sham. An hour after--that is at about eight, I went to Wilkin's myself, and there was no trace of Ferdishenko. The maid did tell me, certainly, that an hour or so since someone had been hammering at the door, and had smashed the bell; she said she would not open the door because she didn't want to wake her master; probably she was too lazy to get up herself. Such phenomena are met with occasionally!"
"But is that all your evidence? It is not enough!"
"Well, prince, whom are we to suspect, then? Consider!" said Lebedeff with almost servile amiability, smiling at the prince. There was a look of cunning in his eyes, however.
"You should search your room and all the cupboards again," said the prince, after a moment or two of silent reflection.
"But I have done so, my dear prince!" said Lebedeff, more sweetly than ever.
"H'm! why must you needs go up and change your coat like that?" asked the prince, banging the table with his fist, in annoyance.
"Oh, don't be so worried on my account, prince! I assure you I am not worth it! At least, not I alone. But I see you are suffering on behalf of the criminal too, for wretched Ferdishenko, in fact!"
"Of course you have given me a disagreeable enough thing to think about," said the prince, irritably, "but what are you going to do, since you are so sure it was Ferdishenko?"
"But who else COULD it be, my very dear prince?" repeated Lebedeff, as sweet as sugar again. "If you don't wish me to suspect Mr. Burdovsky?"
"Of course not."
"Nor the general? Ha, ha, ha!"
"Nonsense!" said the prince, angrily, turning round upon him.
"Quite so, nonsense! Ha, ha, ha! dear me! He did amuse me, did the general! We went off on the hot scent to Wilkin's together, you know; but I must first observe that the general was even more thunderstruck than I myself this morning, when I awoke him after discovering the theft; so much so that his very face changed--he grew red and then pale, and at length flew into a paroxysm of such noble wrath that I assure you I was quite surprised! He is a most generous-hearted man! He tells lies by the thousands, I know, but it is merely a weakness; he is a man of the highest feelings; a simple-minded man too, and a man who carries the conviction of innocence in his very appearance. I love that man, sir; I may have told you so before; it is a weakness of mine. Well--he suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, opened out his coat and bared his breast. "Search me," he says, "you searched Keller; why don't you search me too? It is only fair!" says he. And all the while his legs and hands were trembling with anger, and he as white as a sheet all over! So I said to him, "Nonsense, general; if anybody but yourself had said that to me, I'd have taken my head, my own head, and put it on a large dish and carried it round to anyone who suspected you; and I should have said: 'There, you see that head? It's my head, and I'll go bail with that head for him! Yes, and walk through the fire for him, too. There,' says I, 'that's how I'd answer for you, general!' Then he embraced me, in the middle of the street, and hugged me so tight (crying over me all the while) that I coughed fit to choke! 'You are the one friend left to me amid all my misfortunes,' says he. Oh, he's a man of sentiment, that! He went on to tell me a story of how he had been accused, or suspected, of stealing five hundred thousand roubles once, as a young man; and how, the very next day, he had rushed into a burning, blazing house and saved the very count who suspected him, and Nina Alexandrovna (who was then a young girl), from a fiery death. The count embraced him, and that was how he came to marry Nina Alexandrovna, he said. As for the money, it was found among the ruins next day in an English iron box with a secret lock; it had got under the floor somehow, and if it had not been for the fire it would never have been found! The whole thing is, of course, an absolute fabrication, though when he spoke of Nina Alexandrovna he wept! She's a grand woman, is Nina Alexandrovna, though she is very angry with me!"
"Are you acquainted with her?"
"Well, hardly at all. I wish I were, if only for the sake of justifying myself in her eyes. Nina Alexandrovna has a grudge against me for, as she thinks, encouraging her husband in drinking; whereas in reality I not only do not encourage him, but I actually keep him out of harm's way, and out of bad company. Besides, he's my friend, prince, so that I shall not lose sight of him, again. Where he goes, I go. He's quite given up visiting the captain's widow, though sometimes he thinks sadly of her, especially in the morning, when he's putting on his boots. I don't know why it's at that time. But he has no money, and it's no use his going to see her without. Has he borrowed any money from you, prince?"
"No, he has not."
"Ah, he's ashamed to! He MEANT to ask you, I know, for he said so. I suppose he thinks that as you gave him some once (you remember), you would probably refuse if he asked you again."
"Do you ever give him money?"
"Prince! Money! Why I would give that man not only my money, but my very life, if he wanted it. Well, perhaps that's exaggeration; not life, we'll say, but some illness, a boil or a bad cough, or anything of that sort, I would stand with pleasure, for his sake; for I consider him a great man fallen--money, indeed!"
"H'm, then you DO give him money?"
"N-no, I have never given him money, and he knows well that I will never give him any; because I am anxious to keep him out of intemperate ways. He is going to town with me now; for you must know I am off to Petersburg after Ferdishenko, while the scent is hot; I'm certain he is there. I shall let the general go one way, while I go the other; we have so arranged matters in order to pop out upon Ferdishenko, you see, from different sides. But I am going to follow that naughty old general and catch him, I know where, at a certain widow's house; for I think it will be a good lesson, to put him to shame by catching him with the widow."
"Oh, Lebedeff, don't, don't make any scandal about it!" said the prince, much agitated, and speaking in a low voice.
"Not for the world, not for the world! I merely wish to make him ashamed of himself. Oh, prince, great though this misfortune be to myself, I cannot help thinking of his morals! I have a great favour to ask of you, esteemed prince; I confess that it is the chief object of my visit. You know the Ivolgins, you have even lived in their house; so if you would lend me your help, honoured prince, in the general's own interest and for his good."
Lebedeff clasped his hands in supplication.
"What help do you want from me? You may be certain that I am most anxious to understand you, Lebedeff."
"I felt sure of that, or I should not have come to you. We might manage it with the help of Nina Alexandrovna, so that he might be closely watched in his own house. Unfortunately I am not on terms ... otherwise ... but Nicolai Ardalionovitch, who adores you with all his youthful soul, might help, too."
"No, no! Heaven forbid that we should bring Nina Alexandrovna into this business! Or Colia, either. But perhaps I have not yet quite understood you, Lebedeff?"
Lebedeff made an impatient movement.
"But there is nothing to understand! Sympathy and tenderness, that is all--that is all our poor invalid requires! You will permit me to consider him an invalid?"
"Yes, it shows delicacy and intelligence on your part."
"I will explain my idea by a practical example, to make it clearer. You know the sort of man he is. At present his only failing is that he is crazy about that captain's widow, and he cannot go to her without money, and I mean to catch him at her house today--for his own good; but supposing it was not only the widow, but that he had committed a real crime, or at least some very dishonourable action (of which he is, of course, incapable), I repeat that even in that case, if he were treated with what I may call generous tenderness, one could get at the whole truth, for he is very soft-hearted! Believe me, he would betray himself before five days were out; he would burst into tears, and make a clean breast of the matter; especially if managed with tact, and if you and his family watched his every step, so to speak. Oh, my dear prince," Lebedeff added most emphatically, "I do not positively assert that he has ... I am ready, as the saying is, to shed my last drop of blood for him this instant; but you will admit that debauchery, drunkenness, and the captain's widow, all these together may lead him very far."
"I am, of course, quite ready to add my efforts to yours in such a case," said the prince, rising; "but I confess, Lebedeff, that I am terribly perplexed. Tell me, do you still think ... plainly, you say yourself that you suspect Mr. Ferdishenko?"
Lebedeff clasped his hands once more.
"Why, who else could I possibly suspect? Who else, most outspoken prince?" he replied, with an unctuous smile.
Muishkin frowned, and rose from his seat.
"You see, Lebedeff, a mistake here would be a dreadful thing. This Ferdishenko, I would not say a word against him, of course; but, who knows? Perhaps it really was he? I mean he really does seem to be a more likely man than... than any other."
Lebedeff strained his eyes and ears to take in what the prince was saying. The latter was frowning more and more, and walking excitedly up and down, trying not to look at Lebedeff.
"You see," he said, "I was given to understand that Ferdishenko was that sort of man,--that one can't say everything before him. One has to take care not to say too much, you understand? I say this to prove that he really is, so to speak, more likely to have done this than anyone else, eh? You understand? The important thing is, not to make a mistake."
"And who told you this about Ferdishenko?"
"Oh, I was told. Of course I don't altogether believe it. I am very sorry that I should have had to say this, because I assure you I don't believe it myself; it is all nonsense, of course. It was stupid of me to say anything about it."
"You see, it is very important, it is most important to know where you got this report from," said Lebedeff, excitedly. He had risen from his seat, and was trying to keep step with the prince, running after him, up and down. "Because look here, prince, I don't mind telling you now that as we were going along to Wilkin's this morning, after telling me what you know about the fire, and saving the count and all that, the general was pleased to drop certain hints to the same effect about Ferdishenko, but so vaguely and clumsily that I thought better to put a few questions to him on the matter, with the result that I found the whole thing was an invention of his excellency's own mind. Of course, he only lies with the best intentions; still, he lies. But, such being the case, where could you have heard the same report? It was the inspiration of the moment with him, you understand, so who could have told YOU? It is an important question, you see!"
"It was Colia told me, and his father told HIM at about six this morning. They met at the threshold, when Colia was leaving the room for something or other." The prince told Lebedeff all that Colia had made known to himself, in detail.
"There now, that's what we may call SCENT!" said Lebedeff, rubbing his hands and laughing silently. "I thought it must be so, you see. The general interrupted his innocent slumbers, at six o'clock, in order to go and wake his beloved son, and warn him of the dreadful danger of companionship with Ferdishenko. Dear me! what a dreadfully dangerous man Ferdishenko must be, and what touching paternal solicitude, on the part of his excellency, ha! ha! ha!"
"Listen, Lebedeff," began the prince, quite overwhelmed; "DO act quietly--don't make a scandal, Lebedeff, I ask you--I entreat you! No one must know--NO ONE, mind! In that case only, I will help you."
"Be assured, most honourable, most worthy of princes--be assured that the whole matter shall be buried within my heart!" cried Lebedeff, in a paroxysm of exaltation. "I'd give every drop of my blood... Illustrious prince, I am a poor wretch in soul and spirit, but ask the veriest scoundrel whether he would prefer to deal with one like himself, or with a noble-hearted man like you, and there is no doubt as to his choice! He'll answer that he prefers the noble-hearted man--and there you have the triumph of virtue! Au revoir, honoured prince! You and I together--softly! softly!"

走进自己的家门，叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜在第一个房间停下了，她不能再往前走，便坐到沙发床上。她完全筋疲力尽了，甚至忘了请公爵坐。这是一间相当大的堂屋、中间放苦一张园桌，有坠炉，靠窗的搁架上放着许多花，后面有一扇玻璃门通向花园。阿杰莱达和亚历山德拉立即走了进来，疑问和困惑地望着公爵和母亲。
小姐们在别墅通常在９点左右起床；只有阿格拉娅在最近两三天里起得稍早些并去花园散步，但是毕竟也不是７点，而是８点或者再晚些。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫挪因为各种各样的疑虑不安确实彻夜未眠，在８点左右就起床了，有意想在花园里遇见阿格拉娅，因为以为她已经起床了；可是无论是在花园还是在卧室郁没有找到她。这下她可完全着了慌，就把两个大女儿叫回。“从女仆那里她们获悉，阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫闪还在６点多的时候就去了公园。小姐们嘲笑她们这个好发奇想的妹妹又冒出新的怪念来。便向妈因指出，如果她到公园去找她，阿格拉娅大概又会生气的，还说，现在她一定拿音书坐在绿色长椅上，还有三天前她说起过这张长椅，为此差点与ω公爵吵嘴，因为ω公爵认为这张长椅的位置并没有什么特别的地方。现在叶莉扎维浴·普罗科菲耶夫问回上了女儿的约会。听见了她所说的奇怪的活，不由得惊恐万分，这里有诸多原因，但是眼下把公爵带了来，她倒又为自己生出事来感到胆怯，因为“为什么阿格拉娅不能在公园里与公爵见面和谈话呢？甚至，说到底，假如这是他们事先讲好的约会，那又怎样呢？”
“爵爷，您别以为，”她终于壮着胆说，“我把您拖到这儿来是要审问您……亲爱的，在发生了昨天晚上这种事后，本来我也许会很长时间不愿意见你……”
她稍稍停顿了一下。
“但终究您很想知道，今天我怎么跟阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜见面的？”公爵相当平静地接着她的活把话说完。
“那好吧，我是想知道！”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜马上怒气勃发，“我不怕说真话。因为我没有委屈任何人，也不想委屈任何人……”
“哪会呢，想知道是自然的事，不存在委屈谁这一点；您是母亲嘛。我今天早晨７点正在绿色长椅那儿会见阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜，是由于她昨天邀请了我。咋晚她用一张字条告诉我，她要见我并有要事跟我谈。我们见了面，谈了整整一小时，全是涉及阿格拉娅·伊万诺夫娜个人的事，这就是全部情况。”
“当然，是全部情况，爵爷、毫无疑问就是这些情况，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜带着一副尊严的神情说。
“好极了，公爵！”阿格拉娅突然走进房间说，“我衷心感谢您认为我不会低贱到撒谎。妈妈，您够了吧、或是还想审问？”
“你知道，至今还没有什么事使我碍在你面前感到脸红……虽然你可能高兴看到那样，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜用教训的口气回答说，“再见，公爵；原谅我打扰了您。我希望，您依然相信我对您的尊敬是永远不变的。”
公爵立即朝两边行礼告辞，走了出来。亚历山德拉和阿杰莱达微微一笑，窃窃私议着什么。叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜严厉地看了她们一眼。
“我们只是觉得好笑，妈妈，”阿杰莱达笑起来说，“公爵行礼的样子这么潇洒，有时候却完全笨拙得很，而现在一下子就像……就像叶甫盖尼·帕夫雷奇了。”
“彬彬有礼和尊严体面是自己的心灵而不是舞蹈老师教出来的，”叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜讪讪地说完话，就上自己楼去了，对阿格拉娅连看都不看一眼。
公爵回到自己住处已经９点左右了，在露台上遇见了维拉·鲁基扬诺夫娜和女仆，她们正在一起收拾、打扫昨晚留下的杂乱无章的露台。
“谢天谢地，我们总算在您来之前收拾好了！”维拉高兴地说。
“您好，我有点头晕；我没有睡好；我想睡觉。”
“像昨天一样，就睡这儿露台上？好。我去对大家说，让他们别吵醒您。爸爸不知去哪里了。”
女仆走出去了，维拉本来也要跟在她后面走的，但又回过来，忧心忡忡地走到公爵跟前。
“公爵，您就可怜可怜这个……不幸的人吧，今天别赶他走。”
“我绝不会赶他，随他自己怎么样。”
“他现在什么也做不了，所以……您对他别太严厉。”
“哦，不会的，何必呢？”
“还有……您别笑他；这是最主要的。”
“哦，绝对不会的！”
“我真蠢，对您这样的人说这种话，”维拉的脸红了，“虽然您倦了，”她半转过身子准备走开，笑起来说，“可是此刻您的眼睛多么可爱……多么幸福。”
“难道还幸福？”公爵生气勃勃地间，并高兴地大笑起来。”
但是像男孩一样天真纯朴、不拘礼节的维拉，突然不知怎么的变得不好意思起来，脸也更红了，仍然笑着，急匆匆走出了房间。
“多么……可爱……”公爵想。但立即就忘了她。他走到露台一角，那儿有一张沙发躺椅，躺椅前有一张茶几，他坐下来，双手捂着脸坐了约１０分钟；突然急忙和不安地把手伸进侧袋，摸出了三封信。
但是门又开了，科利亚走了进来。公爵的手很高兴又得把信放回到口袋里和可以捱过一段时光。
“嗨，真是一桩事件！”科利亚说着，就在沙发躺椅上坐下，像所有他这样的少年一样，直截了当地就切入话题，“现在您怎么看待伊波利特，不会尊重他了吧？”
“为什么呢……不过，科利亚，我很疲倦了……而且再来开始谈这一切，太使人忧郁了……但是、他怎么样？”
“在睡，还能睡两小时。我明白；您没在家里睡觉；在公园里徘徊……当然，心情激动……这还用说。”
“您怎么知道我在公园里徘徊，不在家里睡觉？”
“维拉刚才说的。她劝我别进来。我忍不住，耽一会儿。这两个小时我在床边值班；现在我让科斯佳·列别杰夫替班。布尔多夫斯基已经走了。所以，公爵，您就睡吧，祝您晚……日，祝您日安！只不过，您要知道，我非常惊诧！”
“当然……所有这一切……”
“不，公爵，不；我感到谅诧的是《自白》。主要是他讲到幽灵和未来生命的那个地方，这里面含着一个伟--大--的思想！”
公爵亲切地望着科利亚，他来的目的当然是想尽快谈谈这个伟大的思想。
“但是，主要的，主要的不是一种思想，而是整个情境！如果伏尔泰、卢梭、普鲁东写了这份东西，我会去读，会发觉新思想，但不会惊诧到这种程度，但是，一个确实知道自己只能活１０分钟的人说这一番话，这可是令人骄傲的！这可是个人人格独立的最高表现，这可是意味着直面勇对人生……不，这是伟大的精神力量！在这之后断定他故意不放上火帽，这就太卑下、太不自然！可是您要知道，昨天他们是欺骗了大家，耍了个花招：我根本没有跟他一起把东西装进旅行包，也从未见过手熗；是他自己收拾东西的，因此他一下子把我弄糊涂了。维拉说，您留他在这儿住；我起誓，不会有危险，何况我们大家都寸步不离守着他。”
“昨天夜里你们中谁在那里？”
“我，科斯佳·列别杰夫，布尔多夫斯墓；凯勒尔稍稍耽了一会，后来就到列别杰夫那儿睡觉去了，因为我们那里没有床钠好睡。费尔迪先科也睡在列别杰夫那里，７点钟就走了。将军总是在列别杰夫那儿的，现在也走了……列别杰夫可能马上就会到您这儿来；不知道有什么事，他在找您，问过两次了。如果您现在躺下回的话，要不要放他进来？我也要去睡了。啊，对了，我想对您说件事；刚才将军让我吃了一惊：６点多时布尔多夫斯基叫醒我去值班，甚至几乎是６点钟的时候；我出去了一会，突然遇见了将军，而且还醉得到了不认识我的地步：像根木柱子似的站在我面前；刚清醒过来就冲着我问：‘病人怎么样了？我来是打听病人槽况的……，我向他报告了，嗨，如此这般等等。‘这一切很好，’他说，‘但我是，我起早，主要是为了警告你；我有理由认为，当着费尔迪先科的面不能什么话都说，应该有所克制。’您明白吗，公爵？”
“难道有这样的事？不过……对我们来说反正无所谓。”
“是的，没有疑问，这无所谓，我们不是共济会会员！因此我甚至感到奇怪，将军竞为此而特意夜里来叫醒我。”
“您说，费尔迪先科走了，是吗？”
“７点钟走的；顺便到我这儿来了一下，我在值班！他说，他去维尔金那里睡个足。维尔金是个十足的酒鬼。好了，我走了：瞧，鲁基扬·季莫菲伊奇来了……公爵想睡觉，鲁基扬·季莫菲伊奇；往回走！”
“仅仅耽１分钟，我深深敬重的公爵，有件在我看来有点重要的事，”进来的列别杰夫拖长了声音，用一种洞察一切的口吻轻声说着，并且庄重地鞠了个躬。他刚回来，甚至还未及回自己房间，因此还拿着帽子在乎中，他的脸流露出忧虑，还带着特别的不同寻常的自尊神情，。公爵请他坐下。
“您两次问起过我？大概，您始终为昨晚的事感到不安……”
“公爵，您是说为昨天这男孩的事？哦，不；昨天我的思想很紊乱……但是今天我已经不打算同您的意见争执了，无论在什么方面。”
“争……您怎么说的？”
“我说：争执，是个法语词，像许多其他词一样，已经进入我们俄语了，但我并不特别主张用这个词。”
“列别杰夫，您今天怎么这样一本正经，循规蹈矩，说起话来咬文嚼字的，”公爵微微一笑说。
“尼古拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇，”列别杰夫几乎用一种使人怜悯的声音对科利亚说，“我有一件事要告诉公爵，涉及到本人……”
“哦，对，当然，当然，这不关我的事。再见，公爵！”科利亚马上就走开了。
“我喜欢这孩子的明白知趣，”望着他背影列别杰夫说，“这小家伙挺灵巧，虽然挺缠人的。深深敬爱的公爵，我遭受了一件异常不幸的事，是昨天晚上还是今天清晨……我还捉摸不定确切的时间。”
“是什么事情？”
“侧袋里丢了四百卢布，深深敬爱的公爵；大家正给您庆贺生日，”列别杰夫苦笑着补了一句。
“您丢失了四百卢布？这真遗憾。”
“特别是对一个靠自己的劳动正直生活的穷人来说是这样。”
“当然，当然，怎么会这样的？”
“是喝酒造成的后果。我来找您是把您看做神明，深深敬爱的公爵，四百银卢布这笔款子我是在昨天下午５点钟时从一个债主那里得到的，接着就坐火车回到这里。皮夹放在口袋里。我换下制服穿上常礼眼，把钱放进常礼服，我想到了要把钱放在身边，打算晚上应人家的请求把钱交出去……就等代理人来。”
“顺便问一句，鲁基扬·季真菲伊奇，您在报上登过广告说，您收金银物品作抵押付款，这是真的吗？”
“是通过代理人；不用我自己的名字，也不用我的地址。我本钱微不足道，又因为添了人了，您自己也会同意，收一点正当的利息……”
“是的，是的；我不过是了解一下；对不起，我打断了您。”
“代理人没有来一而那时又送来了那个不幸的人；午餐后我已经处于一种亢奋状态；来了这些客人，喝了……茶，……我很快活，却不料大祸临头。当时已很晚了，凯勒尔进来宣布您的大庆日子，并吩咐拿出香槟来，亲爱的深深敬重的公爵，我有一颗心（您大概已经发觉了，因为我是配得到这一点的），我有一颗心，我不说赤胆忠心，但可以说是知恩图报的，我还以此引以为豪。为了使准备中的聚会更加庄重，我个人也等着祝贺您，我忽然想到去，换下家常便服，穿上回家后脱下的制服，我这么做了，公爵，您大概也注意到了我一晚上都穿着制眼。我换了衣服，却忘了放在家常便服中的皮夹。哦……上帝想要惩罚人的时候，首先剥夺你的理智，真是这样。直到今天，己经７点半了，我醒来时，像个疯子似的从床上跳起来，第一件事就是去抓那件常礼眼，一只是一只空口袋。皮夹子已音无踪迹。”
“呵，这真不愉快。”
“确实不愉快，您刚才找到的合适字眼真是得体，”列别杰夫不无狡黠地添了一句说。
“不过，怎么会……”公爵若有所思，颇感不安地说，“这可是很严重的情况。”
“确实严重，您又找了另一个字眼，公爵，为了表示……”
“啊，够了，鲁基扬“·季莫菲伊奇，这用得着找字眼吗？重要的不是字眼……您认为，您喝醉时皮夹子会不会从您口袋里掉出来了？”
“可能的。正如您坦率地所说的那样，喝醉时什么都有可能，我深深敬爱的公爵！但是，我请您判断一下：如果换衣服时我把皮夹子抖落出来了，那么掉下来的东西应该就在那里地板上。现在这东西在什么地方呢？”
“您不会把它塞到桌子抽屉里什么地方了？”
“全部找遍了，到处都找过了，何况我没有往哪儿藏过，也没有开过任何抽屉，这点我记得很清楚。”
“看过柜子里吗？”
“第一件事就看那里，今天甚至已经看了好几遍了……再说我怎么会塞到柜子里去呢，我衷心尊敬的公爵？”
“我承认，列别杰夫，这很使我不安。这么说，有人在地板上捡了它？”
“或者从口袋里偷的，二者必居其一。”
“这使我非常不安；因为到底是谁……这就是问题所在。”
“毫无疑问，主要的问题就在这里，您用词之确切、表达思想之恰当，分析情况之精确真令人惊讶，公爵阁下。”
“啊，鲁基扬·季莫菲伊奇，别嘲弄人了，这里……”
“嘲弄！”列别杰夫双手一拍，大声嚷了起来。
“算了，算了，算了，好吧，我可不是生气，这里完全是另一回事……我担心的是人们。您怀疑是谁？”
“这是个最难知……最复杂的问题！我不怀疑女仆：她呆在自己厨房里。也不是亲生的孩子们……”
“这还用说。”
“看来，是客人中的什么人。”
“但这可能吗？”
“这是完全不可能，最大的不可能，可是又必定是这么回事。不过、我同意做这样的设想，甚至确信，如果是偷窃，那么不会是在晚上发生的，因为当时大家都聚集在一起，而会是在夜里或者甚至是在快要到清晨的时候，是在这里过夜的哪个人干的。”
“啊，我的天哪！”
“自然，布尔多夫斯基和居古拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇我是排除在外的，因为他们没有进我的房间。”
“这还用说，甚至即使他们走进去过也不会！谁在您那里过夜的？”
“连我在内，我们有四个人，住在两个相邻的房间：我，将军，凯勒尔和费尔迪先科先生。看来，是我们四人中的一个！”
“也就是三个中的某一个，但是谁呢？”
“我把自己算在内是为了公正，也为了合乎规矩，但是，公爵，您也会同意，我不可能自己偷自己，虽然世上也常有这样的事……”
“啊，列别杰夫，这多无聊！”公爵不耐烦地高声说，“说正经的，您干吗拖拖拉拉的！……”
“这就是说，剩下三个人，首先是凯勒尔先生。这个人反复无常，总是醉醺醺的，在某些方面是自由主义者，也就是说到钱袋的事，其他方面带有的倾向，与其说是自由主义，不如说是古代骑士式的。他在这里起先是在病人的房间里，已经半夜里了才换到我们这里来，借口说睡在光地板上太硬了。”
“您怀疑是他？”
“我怀疑过。当我在早晨７点多时像疯子似的一跳而起用手贴住前额的时候，马上叫醒了睡着安稳觉的将军。考虑到费尔迪先科奇怪地消失踪影，这一点已经引起了我们的怀疑，我们俩立即决定搜索凯勒尔，他睡得像……像……几乎就像死猪一股。我们完完全全搜了个遍：口袋里一个子几也没有，甚至没有一个口袋是没有窟窿的。方格蓝布手帕脏得不成样子。还有一封情书，是哪个女仆写的，信中向他要钱并进行威胁，再就是您知道的那篇小品文的碎片。将军认为他是无辜的。为了彻底弄清楚我们叫醒了他本人，好容易才推醒了他；他勉强弄明白是怎么回事，张大了嘴巴，一副醉态，脸上的表情是怪诞、无辜的，甚至是愚蠢的，－－不是他！”
“哦，我真高兴！”公爵高兴地叹了口气，“我曾多么为他担心！”
“担心？看来，您已经有理由怀疑了？”列别杰夫眯缝着眼说。
“哦，不，我是这么说说的，”公爵语塞了。“我说担心，真是愚蠢得可以。列别杰夫，帮帮忙，别把这话传给任何人……”
“公爵，公爵！您的话在我的心里……在我心里深处，那里就是坟墓！……”列别杰夫把礼服贴在心坎处，激昂地说。
“好，”好！……这么说，是贫尔迪先科？也就是，我想说，您怀疑费尔迪先科？
“还有谁呢？”列别杰夫凝神望着公爵，悄悄地说。
“哦，是的，当然喏……还会有谁……就是说，我又说错了，有什么证据呢？”
“证据是有的。首先，他是在早晨７点，甚至是６点多时消失的。”
“我知道，科利亚对我说过，费尔迪先科到他那里去了一下，说要到……我忘了，到谁那里，到一个好朋友家去睡个足。”
“是到维尔金那里。这么说，尼古拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇已经对您说了？”
“他一点也没提及失窃的事。”
“他是不知道，因为暂时我还对此事保密。这么说，他去维尔金家了；似乎事情没什么好奇怪的，一个醉汉到另一个跟他自己一样的醉汉那里去，尽管天还刚刚亮，又没有任何理由。但是这里却露出了踪迹：他走了，却留下了地址……现在，公爵，请注意一个问题：他为什么要留下地址？……为什么他绕个弯，特意去尼古拉· 阿尔达利翁诺维奇那儿并告诉他‘去维尔金家里睡个足’。谁对他要走，甚至他正是要去维尔金那里感兴趣？为什么要告诉人家？不，这里有精妙之处，小偷的精妙之处，这就是说：‘瞧，我故意不隐瞒我的行踪，我怎么会是小偷呢？难道小偷会告诉他到哪儿去的吗？，这是一种想排除怀疑的过分的细心，也就是说，想擦去沙地上的足迹……您明白我的意思吗，我深深敬爱的公爵？”
“明白，非常清楚地明白，但是这可是不够的。”
“第二条理由：他的行踪是假的，他给的地址是不准确的。过了１小阶，也就是８点钟的时候，我已经去敲维尔金的门了，他住在五条街，我甚至还认识他。赞尔迪先科的影子也没有。虽然从女仆那里（她完全是个聋子）追问出来，一个小时前确有某个人敲过门，甚至用的劲相当大，连门铃也扯断了。但是女仆没有开门，她不想叫醒维尔金先生，也可能是她自己不愿意起来。这种事也常有。”
“这就是您的全部证据吗？这不够。”
“公爵，那么该怀疑谁呢，您倒判断判断？”列别杰夫非常动人地结束说，在他的苦笑中闪现出某种经验的神情。
“您再好好看看房间和抽屉！”公爵沉思片刻后忧虑地说。
“细细看过了！”列别杰夫更加动人地叹了口气说。
“嗯！……何必，您何必要换掉这件常礼服呢？”公爵烦恼地敲了一下桌子，感叹道。
“这是一出古老喜剧中提的问题。但是，心地无比善良的公爵，您把我的不幸已经太往心里去了！我不配这样对待。也就是说，我一个人不敢当；但是您也在为罪犯……为微不足道的费尔迪先科先生感到痛苦，是吗？”
“是的，是的，您确实使我很不安，”公爵心不在焉和不满地打断了他的话，“那么，既然您这么深信这是费尔迪先科于的、您打算做什么呢？……”
“公爵，我深深敬爱的公爵，别人还会是谁呢？”列别杰夫用越来越受感动的腔调巴结着说。“要知道没有别的人可以设想为那个人，因而，除了费尔迪先科先生，完全不可能怀疑别的人，要知道，这么说吧，这又是一条不利于费尔迪先科的证据，已经是第三条了：因为还是这个问题：别的人还会是谁？总不见得我该怀疑布尔多夫斯基先生吧，嘻－嘻！”
“照您，多么荒谬！”
“最后，总不是将军吧。嘻－嘻？”
“简直胡说八道！”公爵几乎生气地说，他不耐烦地在座位上转来转去。
“还用说不是胡说八道吗，嘻－嘻！这个人，也就是将军，真把我逗笑了，刚才我跟他趁热打铁追踪到维尔金家……应该向您指出，当我失窃后首先叫醒他时，将军比我还要感到震惊，甚至脸色都变了，红一阵，白一阵，最后突然显得部样正义凛然，表示着强烈的义愤，我甚至都没有料到会到那种程度。真是个正人君子！他经常吹牛，这是他的癖好，但是是个有高尚情操的人，同时他又是个缺少心眼的人，他的纯真无邪可以令人充分信任他。我已经对您说了，我深深敬爱的公爵，我对他不仅有好感，而且喜欢他。突然他停在街中央，解开常礼服，敞开胸，说‘搜搜我，您搜过凯勒尔，为什么不搜我呢？公正要求这样做，他手脚都抖动着，甚至脸变得雪白，一副威严可恨的样子。我笑了起来，说，‘听着，将军，如果别人对我这样说你，我立即用自己的双手把我的头颅取下来，将它放在一只大盘子里并亲自端给所有怀疑你的人，对他们说：瞧，看见这颗脑袋了吧，我就用自己的这颗脑袋为他担保，不仅，是脑袋，甚至还可以赴汤蹈火。瞧我准备怎么为你担保。”他当即扑过来拥抱我，仍然在大街中央，眼泪夺眶而出，浑身颤粟着，紧紧地招我搂在胸前（弄得我甚至差点咳嗽起来。）他说：‘你是我患难中留下的唯一的朋友！，真是个易动感情的人！于是，当然罗，一路上他立即讲了个类似境遇的坏事，说年轻时有一次他被怀疑偷了５００卢布，但是，第二天他扑进熊熊燃烧的房子，从火中拖出了怀疑他的伯爵和当时还是少女的尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜。伯爵拥抱了他，这样就有了他和尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜的婚姻，而次日在火灾的废墟中找到了装着失款的盒子；这是一只英国构造、带暗锁的铁盒，不知怎么的掉到地板底下去，因此谁也没有发觉它，直到这场火灾后才找到。这纯粹是胡说。但是他说到尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜时，甚至叹泣起来。尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜是个气度高贵的妇人，尽管她生我的气。”
“你们不认识？”
“几乎不认识，但我真心诚意想和她认识，哪怕只是为了在她面前辩解。尼娜·亚历山德罗夫对我有所不满，认为似乎是我现在腐蚀了他丈夫，使他酗酒。但我不仅没有腐蚀他，反而还劝阻他；也许，我现在正使他摆脱有害的家伙。再说他是我的朋友，我向您承认，我现在不会撇下他，也就是说，他去哪儿，我也去哪儿，因为唯有重感情才能把握他。现在他甚至完全不去拜访自己的大尉妻子了，虽然暗中非常想去见她，有时甚至为她唉声叹气，特别是每天早晨起床穿靴子那一会，不知道为什么正是这个时候。他没有钱，槽就槽在这里，而没有钱无论如何也休想去她那里。他没有向您要过钱吗？我深深敬爱的公爵？”
“没有，没有要过。”
“他不好意思。他本来想过的，甚至向我承认，他想来麻烦您，但是不好意思，因为不久前您才借钱给他，加上他认为您不会给的。他把我当朋友才吐露这话的。”
“那您没有给他钱吗？”
“公爵！我深深敬爱的公爵！不光是钱，为了这个人，这么说吧，甚至生命……不，不过我不想夸大，不是生命，但是可以这样说，为了这个人我真的愿意经受一次热病，害一个脓肿或者甚至咳嗽，只要有非常的必要；因为我认为他是个伟大的但又是个沉沦的人！就是这样！不光是钱！”
“这么说，您给他钱了？”
“没有，钱我没有给，他自己知道，我是不会给的，但要知道唯一的目的是使他节制和改正。现在缠着要跟我一起去彼得堡；我去彼得堡可是为了要趁热打铁追踪费尔迪先科先生，因为我肯定他已经在那里了，我的将军也急得像热锅上的蚂蚁，但我怀疑，到了彼得堡他会从我身边偷偷溜走，好去找大尉妻子。我承认，我甚至会故意放他走，我们已经讲好，一到被得堡就立即兵分两路，以便更容易抓住费尔迪先科先生。我就这样要先把他放了。然后突然像雪落到头上一样，去大尉妻子那里回见他，--其实，是要使他感到羞愧，作为一个有家室的人，作为一个一般所说的人，他应该得这一点。”
“只不过别闹得。满城风雨，列别杰夫，为了上帝，别闹得满城风雨，”公爵感到强烈不安，悄声说。
“哦，不会的，其实只是为了使他感到羞愧、同时也闪看看他是一副什么模样，因为根据模样可以做出许多结论，我尊敬的公爵，特别是这样的人！啊，公爵！尽管我自己遭到这么大的不幸，但是甚至现在我还是不能不想到他，不能不想到怎样纠正他的道德，我深深敬爱的公爵，我对您有个不同寻常的请求，我坦白地说、甚至正是为了这点才来的（您已经跟他们家熟悉了）甚至还在他们那里住过；要是您，心地无比善良的公民，您决定在这件事上协助我，其实只是为了将军一人和他的幸福……”
列别杰夫甚至交叉起双手，犹如祈祷那样。
“什么事情于怎么协助？请相信，我相当愿意完全理解您，列别杰夫。”
“我到您这儿来唯一怀着的就是这种信心。通过尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜可以起作用；这么说吧；可以在他自己家里内部观察、注意他这位阁下。不幸的是，我跟他家不熟悉……况且这里还有尼古拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇，他崇拜您，可以说，是出于少年的一片真心，他大概也会帮忙的……”
“不，上帝保佑，别把尼娜·亚历山记罗夫娜扯进这件事上……还有科利亚……不过可能我还没有理解您的用意，列别杰夫。”
“这里根本没什么要理解的！”列别杰夫甚至在椅子上跳将起来，“只要感情的温柔，这就是我们病人的全部药物。公爵，您允许我把他看做是病人吧？”
“这甚至显示出您的委婉和智慧。”
“我举一个例子给您解释，为了明白起见我就用一个实例。您瞧，这是个什么人：他现在一心恋着这个大尉妻子，而没有钱是不能上她那儿的，今天我就打算在她那儿抓获他，这是为他幸福着想；但是，假定说，不光是大尉妻子的事，而是甚至犯了真正的罪行，啼，某桩最可耻的行为（虽然他根本不会这样做），那么到那时，我说，也只要用高尚的温情，这么说吧，你就能了解他的一切，因为他是个重感情的人！请相信，他熬不过五天，自己就会讲出来，会痛哭流涕，承认一切；如果做得巧妙和高尚，通过家庭和您对他进行一切监视，这么说吧，监视他的一举一动……尤其能如此：哦，心地无比善良的公爵！”列别杰夫甚至颇为感奋地跳起来说，“我可不断定他一定……可以说，我愿意哪怕是现在为他流淌我的全部鲜血，虽然您也会同意，没有节制地酗酒，大尉妻子这一切加在一起是会导致一切后果的。”
“这样的目的，我当然总是愿意帮助的，”公爵站起来说，“只不过我向您承认，列别杰夫，我现在心里不安得不得了；您说，您不是一直……总之，您自己说的、您怀疑费尔迪先科先生。”
“还会有谁。”
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 38楼  发表于: 2014-01-18 0

Part 3 Chapter 10
THE prince understood at last why he shivered with dread every time he thought of the three letters in his pocket, and why he had put off reading them until the evening.
When he fell into a heavy sleep on the sofa on the verandah, without having had the courage to open a single one of the three envelopes, he again dreamed a painful dream, and once more that poor, "sinful" woman appeared to him. Again she gazed at him with tears sparkling on her long lashes, and beckoned him after her; and again he awoke, as before, with the picture of her face haunting him.
He longed to get up and go to her at once--but he COULD NOT. At length, almost in despair, he unfolded the letters, and began to read them.
These letters, too, were like a dream. We sometimes have strange, impossible dreams, contrary to all the laws of nature. When we awake we remember them and wonder at their strangeness. You remember, perhaps, that you were in full possession of your reason during this succession of fantastic images; even that you acted with extraordinary logic and cunning while surrounded by murderers who hid their intentions and made great demonstrations of friendship, while waiting for an opportunity to cut your throat. You remember how you escaped them by some ingenious stratagem; then you doubted if they were really deceived, or whether they were only pretending not to know your hiding-place; then you thought of another plan and hoodwinked them once again. You remember all this quite clearly, but how is it that your reason calmly accepted all the manifest absurdities and impossibilities that crowded into your dream? One of the murderers suddenly changed into a woman before your very eyes; then the woman was transformed into a hideous, cunning little dwarf; and you believed it, and accepted it all almost as a matter of course--while at the same time your intelligence seemed unusually keen, and accomplished miracles of cunning, sagacity, and logic! Why is it that when you awake to the world of realities you nearly always feel, sometimes very vividly, that the vanished dream has carried with it some enigma which you have failed to solve? You smile at the extravagance of your dream, and yet you feel that this tissue of absurdity contained some real idea, something that belongs to your true life,--something that exists, and has always existed, in your heart. You search your dream for some prophecy that you were expecting. It has left a deep impression upon you, joyful or cruel, but what it means, or what has been predicted to you in it, you can neither understand nor remember.
The reading of these letters produced some such effect upon the prince. He felt, before he even opened the envelopes, that the very fact of their existence was like a nightmare. How could she ever have made up her mind to write to her? he asked himself. How could she write about that at all? And how could such a wild idea have entered her head? And yet, the strangest part of the matter was, that while he read the letters, he himself almost believed in the possibility, and even in the justification, of the idea he had thought so wild. Of course it was a mad dream, a nightmare, and yet there was something cruelly real about it. For hours he was haunted by what he had read. Several passages returned again and again to his mind, and as he brooded over them, he felt inclined to say to himself that he had foreseen and known all that was written here; it even seemed to him that he had read the whole of this some time or other, long, long ago; and all that had tormented and grieved him up to now was to be found in these old, long since read, letters.
"When you open this letter" (so the first began), "look first at the signature. The signature will tell you all, so that I need explain nothing, nor attempt to justify myself. Were I in any way on a footing with you, you might be offended at my audacity; but who am I, and who are you? We are at such extremes, and I am so far removed from you, that I could not offend you if I wished to do so."
Farther on, in another place, she wrote: "Do not consider my words as the sickly ecstasies of a diseased mind, but you are, in my opinion--perfection! I have seen you--I see you every day. I do not judge you; I have not weighed you in the scales of Reason and found you Perfection--it is simply an article of faith. But I must confess one sin against you--I love you. One should not love perfection. One should only look on it as perfection--yet I am in love with you. Though love equalizes, do not fear. I have not lowered you to my level, even in my most secret thoughts. I have written 'Do not fear,' as if you could fear. I would kiss your footprints if I could; but, oh! I am not putting myself on a level with you!--Look at the signature--quick, look at the signature!"
"However, observe" (she wrote in another of the letters), "that although I couple you with him, yet I have not once asked you whether you love him. He fell in love with you, though he saw you but once. He spoke of you as of 'the light.' These are his own words--I heard him use them. But I understood without his saying it that you were all that light is to him. I lived near him for a whole month, and I understood then that you, too, must love him. I think of you and him as one."
"What was the matter yesterday?" (she wrote on another sheet). "I passed by you, and you seemed to me to BLUSH. Perhaps it was only my fancy. If I were to bring you to the most loathsome den, and show you the revelation of undisguised vice--you should not blush. You can never feel the sense of personal affront. You may hate all who are mean, or base, or unworthy--but not for yourself--only for those whom they wrong. No one can wrong YOU. Do you know, I think you ought to love me--for you are the same in my eyes as in his-you are as light. An angel cannot hate, perhaps cannot love, either. I often ask myself--is it possible to love everybody? Indeed it is not; it is not in nature. Abstract love of humanity is nearly always love of self. But you are different. You cannot help loving all, since you can compare with none, and are above all personal offence or anger. Oh! how bitter it would be to me to know that you felt anger or shame on my account, for that would be your fall--you would become comparable at once with such as me.
"Yesterday, after seeing you, I went home and thought out a picture.
"Artists always draw the Saviour as an actor in one of the Gospel stories. I should do differently. I should represent Christ alone--the disciples did leave Him alone occasionally. I should paint one little child left with Him. This child has been playing about near Him, and had probably just been telling the Saviour something in its pretty baby prattle. Christ had listened to it, but was now musing--one hand reposing on the child's bright head. His eyes have a far-away expression. Thought, great as the Universe, is in them--His face is sad. The little one leans its elbow upon Christ's knee, and with its cheek resting on its hand, gazes up at Him, pondering as children sometimes do ponder. The sun is setting. There you have my picture.
"You are innocent--and in your innocence lies all your perfection--oh, remember that! What is my passion to you?--you are mine now; I shall be near you all my life--I shall not live long!"
At length, in the last letter of all, he found:
"For Heaven's sake, don't misunderstand me! Do not think that I humiliate myself by writing thus to you, or that I belong to that class of people who take a satisfaction in humiliating themselves--from pride. I have my consolation, though it would be difficult to explain it--but I do not humiliate myself.
"Why do I wish to unite you two? For your sakes or my own? For my own sake, naturally. All the problems of my life would thus be solved; I have thought so for a long time. I know that once when your sister Adelaida saw my portrait she said that such beauty could overthrow the world. But I have renounced the world. You think it strange that I should say so, for you saw me decked with lace and diamonds, in the company of drunkards and wastrels. Take no notice of that; I know that I have almost ceased to exist. God knows what it is dwelling within me now--it is not myself. I can see it every day in two dreadful eyes which are always looking at me, even when not present. These eyes are silent now, they say nothing; but I know their secret. His house is gloomy, and there is a secret in it. I am convinced that in some box he has a razor hidden, tied round with silk, just like the one that Moscow murderer had. This man also lived with his mother, and had a razor hidden away, tied round with white silk, and with this razor he intended to cut a throat.
"All the while I was in their house I felt sure that somewhere beneath the floor there was hidden away some dreadful corpse, wrapped in oil-cloth, perhaps buried there by his father, who knows? Just as in the Moscow case. I could have shown you the very spot!
"He is always silent, but I know well that he loves me so much that he must hate me. My wedding and yours are to be on the same day; so I have arranged with him. I have no secrets from him. I would kill him from very fright, but he will kill me first. He has just burst out laughing, and says that I am raving. He knows I am writing to you."
There was much more of this delirious wandering in the letters-- one of them was very long.
At last the prince came out of the dark, gloomy park, in which he had wandered about for hours just as yesterday. The bright night seemed to him to be lighter than ever. "It must be quite early," he thought. (He had forgotten his watch.) There was a sound of distant music somewhere. "Ah," he thought, "the Vauxhall! They won't be there today, of course!" At this moment he noticed that he was close to their house; he had felt that he must gravitate to this spot eventually, and, with a beating heart, he mounted the verandah steps.
No one met him; the verandah was empty, and nearly pitch dark. He opened the door into the room, but it, too, was dark and empty. He stood in the middle of the room in perplexity. Suddenly the door opened, and in came Alexandra, candle in hand. Seeing the prince she stopped before him in surprise, looking at him questioningly.
It was clear that she had been merely passing through the room from door to door, and had not had the remotest notion that she would meet anyone.
"How did you come here?" she asked, at last.
"I-I--came in--"
"Mamma is not very well, nor is Aglaya. Adelaida has gone to bed, and I am just going. We were alone the whole evening. Father and Prince S. have gone to town."
"I have come to you--now--to--"
"Do you know what time it is?"
"N--no!"
"Half-past twelve. We are always in bed by one."
"I-I thought it was half-past nine!"
"Never mind!" she laughed, "but why didn't you come earlier? Perhaps you were expected!"
"I thought" he stammered, making for the door.
"Au revoir! I shall amuse them all with this story tomorrow!"
He walked along the road towards his own house. His heart was beating, his thoughts were confused, everything around seemed to be part of a dream.
And suddenly, just as twice already he had awaked from sleep with the same vision, that very apparition now seemed to rise up before him. The woman appeared to step out from the park, and stand in the path in front of him, as though she had been waiting for him there.
He shuddered and stopped; she seized his hand and pressed it frenziedly.
No, this was no apparition!
There she stood at last, face to face with him, for the first time since their parting.
She said something, but he looked silently back at her. His heart ached with anguish. Oh! never would he banish the recollection of this meeting with her, and he never remembered it but with the same pain and agony of mind.
She went on her knees before him--there in the open road--like a madwoman. He retreated a step, but she caught his hand and kissed it, and, just as in his dream, the tears were sparkling on her long, beautiful lashes.
"Get up!" he said, in a frightened whisper, raising her. "Get up at once!"
"Are you happy--are you happy?" she asked. "Say this one word. Are you happy now? Today, this moment? Have you just been with her? What did she say?"
She did not rise from her knees; she would not listen to him; she put her questions hurriedly, as though she were pursued.
"I am going away tomorrow, as you bade me--I won't write--so that this is the last time I shall see you, the last time! This is really the LAST TIME!"
"Oh, be calm--be calm! Get up!" he entreated, in despair.
She gazed thirstily at him and clutched his hands.
"Good-bye!" she said at last, and rose and left him, very quickly.
The prince noticed that Rogojin had suddenly appeared at her side, and had taken her arm and was leading her away.
"Wait a minute, prince," shouted the latter, as he went. "I shall be back in five minutes."
He reappeared in five minutes as he had said. The prince was waiting for him.
"I've put her in the carriage," he said; "it has been waiting round the corner there since ten o'clock. She expected that you would be with THEM all the evening. I told her exactly what you wrote me. She won't write to the girl any more, she promises; and tomorrow she will be off, as you wish. She desired to see you for the last time, although you refused, so we've been sitting and waiting on that bench till you should pass on your way home."
"Did she bring you with her of her own accord?"
"Of course she did!" said Rogojin, showing his teeth; "and I saw for myself what I knew before. You've read her letters, I suppose?"
"Did you read them?" asked the prince, struck by the thought.
"Of course--she showed them to me herself. You are thinking of the razor, eh? Ha, ha, ha!"
"Oh, she is mad!" cried the prince, wringing his hands. "Who knows? Perhaps she is not so mad after all," said Rogojin, softly, as though thinking aloud.
The prince made no reply.
"Well, good-bye," said Rogojin. "I'm off tomorrow too, you know. Remember me kindly! By-the-by," he added, turning round sharply again, "did you answer her question just now? Are you happy, or not?"
"No, no, no!" cried the prince, with unspeakable sadness.
"Ha, ha! I never supposed you would say 'yes,'" cried Rogojin, laughing sardonically.
And he disappeared, without looking round again.

公爵终于明白，为什么每次当他触及这三封信时他就浑身发凉，为什么他要把读信的时刻推迟到晚上。还是早晨的时候，他始终没有决心拆开这三封信中的哪一封，就在自己的沙发床上昏昏入睡，做起恶梦来，他又梦见那个“有罪的女人”向他走来。她又用那双有着长长睫毛闪闪发亮的眼睛望着他，又叫他跟她走，他又像刚才那样惊醒过来，痛苦地回忆着她的脸容。他本想立即去她那里，但他不能去；最后，几乎是在没有办法的情况下，他打开了信，读了起来。
这些信也像梦一般，有时会做一些奇怪的梦，不可能也是不自然的；当您醒来时，您会清晰地记起这些梦，并对梦里怪诞的事实感到惊异：您首先会记得，在您做梦的整个过程中理智并没有离开您；您甚至会回想起，在整个这段很长很长的时间里，您被凶手包围了，他们对您耍花招，他们对您很友好，隐瞒了自己的图谋，实际上他们已经准备好武器，他们不过是等某个信号，而您在这段时间里却巧妙而且合乎逻辑地周旋着；您还会回忆起，最后您怎么狡猾地骗过了他们，躲开了他们；后来您猜到了，他们识透了您的欺骗，只不过在您面前不露声色，装做不知道您躲在哪里；但是您更狡猾，又一次欺骗了他们，这一切您都能清晰地回忆起来。但是为什么在那当口您的理智会容忍这样显而易见是荒谬和不可能的事，让它们充斥您的梦境呢？您的一个凶手在您的眼里变成了一个女人，又从女人变成了一个又小又狡猾又坏的侏懦，而您却立即将这一切当作既成事实，几乎没有丝毫疑虑地容忍了，并恰恰是在这同时，从另一方面来说，您的理智却处于最为强烈的紧张状态，显露出非凡的力量、机智、悟性、逻辑，--这是为什么？当您从梦中醒来，已经完全进入了现实，您几乎每次都感觉到，有时怀着一股不同寻常的力量感觉到这么一种印象，您把某个您未曾解开的谜连同梦境一起留下了，--这又是为什么？您嘲笑您所做的梦的荒诞，与此同时又感觉到，在这些荒诞离奇的交织中又包含着某种思想，而这个思想已经是现实的了，是属于您的真正生活，是过去一直存在、现在也仍然存在于您心问的，您的梦似乎告诉了您某种预言式的、您所期待的新东西，您的印象是强烈的。它令人高兴或者令人痛苦，但它究竟包含着什么、告诉您什么--这一切您却是无法理解、无法记住的。
读了这几封信后几乎也是这样。但是，在还没有打开它们时公爵就感觉到，这些信存在和可能的事实本身简直就像一场恶梦。晚上他一个人徘徊的时候（有时甚至自己也不记得，他在什么地方踢囚）他间自己，她怎么有决心给她写信？她怎么能写这种事？她的头脑中怎么会产生这么失去理智的非分之想？但是这种非非之想已经在实施了，对他来说最为惊讶的是，在他看这些信时，他自己几乎相信有可能实现这一非非之想，甚至相信这种想法是有理由的。当然，这是梦，是恶梦，是失去理智。但是这里也包含着某种现实得令人难受、正确得令人痛苦的道理，这一道理为这梦，为这恶梦，为这失去理智做了辩护。一连几小时他仿佛发诸语一般对读到的信口中念念有词，不时记起其中的片断，有时停留在那些字句上，沉思良久。有时他甚至想对自己说，他早就预料到这一切，过去就预料到了。他甚至觉得，他仿佛在很久很久以前就已读到过这一切，而从那时起他一直为之忧愁、为之煎熬，为之担忧的一切，全都包含在他早已读过的这几封信中。
“当您展开这封信的时候（第一封信这样开头的），您首先会看一下暑名。署名会告诉您一切，说明一切，因为我没什么要在您面前辨白的，也没什么要向您解释清楚的、假若我多少与您一样的话，您可能还会对这种无礼而生气；但是我是谁，您又是谁？我们是如此相反的两极，我在您面前又是那样的坏，我无论如何已经不能使您生气了，甚至假如我想要那样也不行。”
下面在另一个地方她写道：
“别认为我的话是一个精神病患者的病态的亢奋，但对于我来说您是完美的！我看见过您，我每天都看见您。我可不是在评论您；我不是凭理性得出您是完美的结论的；我不过是相信这点。但是在您面前我是有罪孽的：我爱您。完美可是不能爱的；对完美只能像看完美那样来看，不是吗？然而我却爱上了您。虽然爱情使人们平等，但是，请别担心，我不把您与我自己相提并论，即使在最隐秘的思想中也不这样做。我对您写： ‘请别担心；，难道您会不放心吗？……假如可以的话，我愿意吻您的脚印。哦，我跟您不可同日而语……您看署名吧，尽快看署名吧！”
“然而，我发现（她在另一封信里写道），我把您与他联结起来，都一次也还没有问过，您是否爱他？他只看见您一次就爱上您了。他回忆起您犹如回忆起‘光明’；这是他自己的话，我是从他那儿听说的。但是没有这句话我也明白，对他来说您就是光明。我在他身边生活了整整一个月，这才明白，您也爱他；对我来说您与他是一回事。”
“这是怎么回事（她还写道），昨天我经过您身边时，您似乎脸红了？这不可能，我只是这么觉得而已。即使把您带到最肮脏的藏垢纳污的场所，让您看赤裸棵的邪恶，您也不应该脸红；您无论如何不会因为受了屈辱而愤慨。您可能会仇恨所有卑鄙下流之徒，但不是为自己，而是为别人，为那些受到他们侮辱的人。您却不会受到任何人的侮辱。知道吗，我觉得，您甚至应当爱我。您对于我来说就像对他来说一样是光明之神，而天使是不会憎恨的，不会不爱的。我常常对自己提这样的问题：是否可以爱大家，爱所有的人，爱所有自己亲近的人？当然不能，甚至是不自然的。在抽象的爱人类中几乎总是只爱自己一个人。但是这对我们来说是不可能的，而您只是另一回事：当您不能把自己与任何人相比较的时候，当您超越任何侮辱、超越任何个人的愤恨的时候，您怎么会不爱哪怕是某个人呢？只有您：一人能无私地爱，，只有您一人能不是为了自己个人去爱，而是为了忽所爱的人去爱。哦，当我知道您因为我而感到羞耻或愤怒的时候，我是多么痛苦！这下您就完了：您一下子把自己与我相提并论了……
昨天遇见您以后我回到家，虚构出一幅画来，画家们总是按照福音书上的故事来画基督，要是我就画成另一种样子：我要画他一个人，因为他的门徒有时是留下他一个人的。我只画一个小孩子与他在一起。孩子在他身边玩；也许，他用自己孩子的话语对他讲述什么，基督听着他，但此刻却在沉思：他的一只手不由自主地、出神地停在孩子长着浅色头发的脑袋上。他望着远处天涯，如整个世界一般宏伟的思想在他的目光中安然常驻；他的脸容是忧郁的，孩子不再作声，胳膊肘撑在他的膝盖上，一只手托住脸颊，仰若头，仪孩子们有时沉思那样若有所思地凝神望着他。夕阳西下……这就是我的画！您是纯结无暇的，您的全部完美就在这纯洁无暇中，哦。只是要记住这一点！我对您的热烈情感又关您什么事！您现在已经是我的了，我将一辈子追随您的左右……我很快就要死了。”
未了，在最后一封信中写道：
“看在上帝面上，请什么也别想我；也别认为我这样给你写信是在贬低我自己，或者认为我是属于以贬低自己为乐的那种人（哪怕甚至是出于自尊而这样做）。不，我有自己的慰藉；但我很准向您讲清楚这一点。我甚至难以对自己讲清楚这一点，尽管我常为此而苦恼。但是我知道，即便是自尊心发作也不能贬低自己。但出于心灵纯洁的自我贬低我也做不到。因而我根本不是贬低自己。
为什么我希望你们结合：为你们还是为自己？当然是为自己，这样我的一切伺题都迎刃而解，我早就这样对自己说……我听说，您姐姐阿杰莱达当时曾议论过我的照片，说有这样的美貌可以翻转乾坤。但是我不要乾坤；听见我说这话，您会觉得可笑，因为您看见我听明穿着镶花边的衣服，戴着钻石首饰、跟一批酒鬼和坏蛋混在一起，您别去看这些，我几乎已经不存在了，我知道这一点：上帝知道，取代我活在我躯体上的究竟是什么。我每天在两只可怕的眼睛里看到这一点，这两只眼睛经常在望着我，甚至不在我面前时也是这样，这双眼睛现在沉默着（它们始终是沉默的），但我知道它们蕴含的秘密。他家的房子阴森，沉闷，那里也有秘密。我相信，在他的抽屉里藏着一把用绸子包起来的剃刀，就位莫斯科那个杀人犯一样；那个人也和母亲住在一幢房子里，也用丝绸包着剃刀，以便割断一条喉咙；我在他们家的时候，始终一直觉得在什么地方，在地板的哪块木板下面有个死人，可能还是他父亲藏的，盖着一块漆布，就像那个莫斯科的尸体一样，周围摆满了装着日丹诺夫防腐剂的玻璃瓶，我甚至可以指给您看在哪个角落。他老是默默无语，但是我可知道，他爱我爱得已经恨不起我来了。你们的婚礼将和我的婚礼一起进行，我跟他是这么商定的。我对他没有秘密。不然我会因恐惧而把他杀死……但是他会先杀死我的……现在他笑了起来说，我是在说呓语，他知道我在给您写信。”
在这些信里还有许多许多这样的吃语。其中一封，是第二封，用蝇头书写槽了两张大号的信纸。
最后，公爵从幽暗的公园里走了出来，像昨天一样，他在那里蹀踱良久。他觉得清彻明亮的的夜色比平时更为明亮；“难道时间还那么早？”他心里想。（他忘了带表。）他仿佛听到了远处什么地方的音乐；“大概是在车站那儿，”他又想， “当然，他们今天是不会去那里的。”刚想到这点，他看见自己已经站在他们别墅门前了；他就料到，最后他一定会来到这里的，于是，他屏息静心跨上了廊台；没有人来迎接他，廊台上空荡荡的。他等了一会，推开了去厅屋的门。“这扇门他们是从来也不关的，”他头脑中闪过这个念头，但厅屋里也空无一人，里面几乎漆黑一团。他站在屋子中间困惑不解。突然门开了，亚历山德拉·伊万诺夫娜手拿蜡烛走了进来。看见公爵在那里，她很惊讶，像是询问一般停在他面前。显然，她只是穿过这间屋子，从一扇门到另一扇门，完全没有想到会撞见什么人。
“您怎么在这里？”她终于说。
“我……顺便来……”
“妈妈不大舒服，阿格拉娅也是。阿杰莱达躺下睡了，我也要去睡。今天整个晚上就我们呆在家里，爸爸和公爵在彼得堡，”
“我来……我到你们这儿来！……现在……”
“您知道现在几点了？”
“不知道……”
“１２点半。我们总在１点钟睡的。”
“啊，我以为……是９点半。”
“没关系！”她笑了起来，“为什么您刚才不来？也许，有人还等过您呢。”
“我……以为……”他喃喃着走了。
“再见！明天我会让大家发笑的。”
他顺着绕公园的路走回家去。他的心怦抨直跳，思绪万干，他周围的一切仿佛都像梦境。突然，就像刚才他两次梦见同一个幻影醒来时一样，那个幻影又出现在他面前。还是那个女人从公园里走出来，站在他面前。就像在这里等着他似的。他颤粟了一下，停住了，她抓住他的手，紧紧握着它。“不，这不是幻影。”
她终于面对面站在他面前，这是他们分离后第一次见面，她对他说了些什么话，但他只是默默望着她；他的心百感交集，痛苦得发出了呻吟。呵，后来他永远也忘不了跟她的这次见面，并总是怀着同样的痛苦回忆起当时的情景，她发狂似的一下子在马路中间跪倒在他面前；他吓得后退了一步，而她抓住他的手，吻它，就像刚才梦中那样，她那长长的睫毛上此刻正闪烁着泪花。
“起来，起来！”他一边扶她起来，一边惊恐地喃喃说，“快起来！”
“你幸福吗？幸福吗？”她连连问，“你只要对我说一句活，你现在幸福吗？今天，此刻？在她身边？她说了什么？”
她没有起来，她不听公爵的；她间得仓促，说得也急促，犹如有人在追赶她一样。
“我将照你吩咐的那样明天就走。我不再……我现在可是最后一次见你了，最后一次！现在可完全是最后一次了！”
“镇静些，起来吧！”他绝望地说。
她贪婪地盯着他，仍紧紧抓住他的手。
“别了！”她最后说着，站起身就很快地离开他，几乎是跑着离去。公爵看见，在她身旁突然出现了罗戈任，他扶着她的胳膊带她走开。
“等一等，公爵，”罗戈任喊道，“过５分钟我会回来一下的。”
过５分钟他真的来了；公爵在原地等着他。
“我把她安顿上了马车，”他说，“１０点钟起马车就在那边角落上等着，她就知道你会整个晚上都呆在那一位身边。刚才你给我写的那些话，我准确无误地转告了。她再也不会给那一位写信了；她许诺的；按照你的愿望，明天她就离开这里。她想最后见你一面，虽然你拒绝了；于是我们就在这个地方等候你回来，就在那里，在那张长椅上。”
“是她自己带你一起来的？”
“那又怎么啦？”罗戈任咧嘴笑着说，“我看见的是我早已知道的事。看来，你看过信了？”
“难道你真的看过这些信？”公爵问道，这个念头使他大为吃惊。
“这还用说；所有的信她自己都给我看过。你记得有关剃刀那一段话吗，嘻嘻！”
“真是个疯子！”公爵扳捏着双手嚷了起来。
“谁知道那回事，也许不是，”罗戈任似是自言自语轻轻地说。
公爵没有回答。
“好，告辞了，”罗戈任说，“要知道明天我也走，有什么对不起的地方，请原谅！啊，兄弟，”他很快又转过身来补充说，“你干嘛什么也不回答她？‘你到底幸福不幸福？’”
“不，不，不！”公爵无限悲痛地喊道。
“还会说‘是的’吗？”罗戈任狞笑着，头也不回地走了。
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
木有有木

ZxID：16465496

4071鲜花 1鸡蛋

等级: 热心会员
举报 只看该作者 39楼  发表于: 2014-01-19 0

Part 4 Chapter 1
A WEEK had elapsed since the rendezvous of our two friends on the green bench in the park, when, one fine morning at about half- past ten o'clock, Varvara Ardalionovna, otherwise Mrs. Ptitsin, who had been out to visit a friend, returned home in a state of considerable mental depression.
There are certain people of whom it is difficult to say anything which will at once throw them into relief--in other words, describe them graphically in their typical characteristics. These are they who are generally known as "commonplace people," and this class comprises, of course, the immense majority of mankind. Authors, as a rule, attempt to select and portray types rarely met with in their entirety, but these types are nevertheless more real than real life itself.
"Podkoleosin" [A character in Gogol's comedy, The Wedding.] was perhaps an exaggeration, but he was by no means a non-existent character; on the contrary, how many intelligent people, after hearing of this Podkoleosin from Gogol, immediately began to find that scores of their friends were exactly like him! They knew, perhaps, before Gogol told them, that their friends were like Podkoleosin, but they did not know what name to give them. In real life, young fellows seldom jump out of the window just before their weddings, because such a feat, not to speak of its other aspects, must be a decidedly unpleasant mode of escape; and yet there are plenty of bridegrooms, intelligent fellows too, who would be ready to confess themselves Podkoleosins in the depths of their consciousness, just before marriage. Nor does every husband feel bound to repeat at every step, "Tu l'as voulu, Georges Dandin!" like another typical personage; and yet how many millions and billions of Georges Dandins there are in real life who feel inclined to utter this soul-drawn cry after their honeymoon, if not the day after the wedding! Therefore, without entering into any more serious examination of the question, I will content myself with remarking that in real life typical characters are "watered down," so to speak; and all these Dandins and Podkoleosins actually exist among us every day, but in a diluted form. I will just add, however, that Georges Dandin might have existed exactly as Moliere presented him, and probably does exist now and then, though rarely; and so I will end this scientific examination, which is beginning to look like a newspaper criticism. But for all this, the question remains,-- what are the novelists to do with commonplace people, and how are they to be presented to the reader in such a form as to be in the least degree interesting? They cannot be left out altogether, for commonplace people meet one at every turn of life, and to leave them out would be to destroy the whole reality and probability of the story. To fill a novel with typical characters only, or with merely strange and uncommon people, would render the book unreal and improbable, and would very likely destroy the interest. In my opinion, the duty of the novelist is to seek out points of interest and instruction even in the characters of commonplace people.
For instance, when the whole essence of an ordinary person's nature lies in his perpetual and unchangeable commonplaceness; and when in spite of all his endeavours to do something out of the common, this person ends, eventually, by remaining in his unbroken line of routine--. I think such an individual really does become a type of his own--a type of commonplaceness which will not for the world, if it can help it, be contented, but strains and yearns to be something original and independent, without the slightest possibility of being so. To this class of commonplace people belong several characters in this novel;-- characters which--I admit--I have not drawn very vividly up to now for my reader's benefit.
Such were, for instance, Varvara Ardalionovna Ptitsin, her husband, and her brother, Gania.
There is nothing so annoying as to be fairly rich, of a fairly good family, pleasing presence, average education, to be "not stupid," kind-hearted, and yet to have no talent at all, no originality, not a single idea of one's own--to be, in fact, "just like everyone else."
Of such people there are countless numbers in this world--far more even than appear. They can be divided into two classes as all men can--that is, those of limited intellect, and those who are much cleverer. The former of these classes is the happier.
To a commonplace man of limited intellect, for instance, nothing is simpler than to imagine himself an original character, and to revel in that belief without the slightest misgiving.
Many of our young women have thought fit to cut their hair short, put on blue spectacles, and call themselves Nihilists. By doing this they have been able to persuade themselves, without further trouble, that they have acquired new convictions of their own. Some men have but felt some little qualm of kindness towards their fellow-men, and the fact has been quite enough to persuade them that they stand alone in the van of enlightenment and that no one has such humanitarian feelings as they. Others have but to read an idea of somebody else's, and they can immediately assimilate it and believe that it was a child of their own brain. The "impudence of ignorance," if I may use the expression, is developed to a wonderful extent in such cases;--unlikely as it appears, it is met with at every turn.
This confidence of a stupid man in his own talents has been wonderfully depicted by Gogol in the amazing character of Pirogoff. Pirogoff has not the slightest doubt of his own genius,--nay, of his SUPERIORITY of genius,--so certain is he of it that he never questions it. How many Pirogoffs have there not been among our writers--scholars--propagandists? I say "have been," but indeed there are plenty of them at this very day.
Our friend, Gania, belonged to the other class--to the "much cleverer" persons, though he was from head to foot permeated and saturated with the longing to be original. This class, as I have said above, is far less happy. For the "clever commonplace" person, though he may possibly imagine himself a man of genius and originality, none the less has within his heart the deathless worm of suspicion and doubt; and this doubt sometimes brings a clever man to despair. (As a rule, however, nothing tragic happens;--his liver becomes a little damaged in the course of time, nothing more serious. Such men do not give up their aspirations after originality without a severe struggle,--and there have been men who, though good fellows in themselves, and even benefactors to humanity, have sunk to the level of base criminals for the sake of originality.
Gania was a beginner, as it were, upon this road. A deep and unchangeable consciousness of his own lack of talent, combined with a vast longing to be able to persuade himself that he was original, had rankled in his heart, even from childhood.
He seemed to have been born with overwrought nerves, and in his passionate desire to excel, he was often led to the brink of some rash step; and yet, having resolved upon such a step, when the moment arrived, he invariably proved too sensible to take it. He was ready, in the same way, to do a base action in order to obtain his wished-for object; and yet, when the moment came to do it, he found that he was too honest for any great baseness. (Not that he objected to acts of petty meanness--he was always ready for THEM.) He looked with hate and loathing on the poverty and downfall of his family, and treated his mother with haughty contempt, although he knew that his whole future depended on her character and reputation.
Aglaya had simply frightened him; yet he did not give up all thoughts of her--though he never seriously hoped that she would condescend to him. At the time of his "adventure" with Nastasia Philipovna he had come to the conclusion that money was his only hope--money should do all for him.
At the moment when he lost Aglaya, and after the scene with Nastasia, he had felt so low in his own eyes that he actually brought the money back to the prince. Of this returning of the money given to him by a madwoman who had received it from a madman, he had often repented since--though he never ceased to be proud of his action. During the short time that Muishkin remained in Petersburg Gania had had time to come to hate him for his sympathy, though the prince told him that it was "not everyone who would have acted so nobly" as to return the money. He had long pondered, too, over his relations with Aglaya, and had persuaded himself that with such a strange, childish, innocent character as hers, things might have ended very differently. Remorse then seized him; he threw up his post, and buried himself in self-torment and reproach.
He lived at Ptitsin's, and openly showed contempt for the latter, though he always listened to his advice, and was sensible enough to ask for it when he wanted it. Gavrila Ardalionovitch was angry with Ptitsin because the latter did not care to become a Rothschild. "If you are to be a Jew," he said, "do it properly-- squeeze people right and left, show some character; be the King of the Jews while you are about it."
Ptitsin was quiet and not easily offended--he only laughed. But on one occasion he explained seriously to Gania that he was no Jew, that he did nothing dishonest, that he could not help the market price of money, that, thanks to his accurate habits, he had already a good footing and was respected, and that his business was flourishing.
"I shan't ever be a Rothschild, and there is no reason why I should," he added, smiling; "but I shall have a house in the Liteynaya, perhaps two, and that will be enough for me." "Who knows but what I may have three!" he concluded to himself; but this dream, cherished inwardly, he never confided to a soul.
Nature loves and favours such people. Ptitsin will certainly have his reward, not three houses, but four, precisely because from childhood up he had realized that he would never be a Rothschild. That will be the limit of Ptitsin's fortune, and, come what may, he will never have more than four houses.
Varvara Ardalionovna was not like her brother. She too, had passionate desires, but they were persistent rather than impetuous. Her plans were as wise as her methods of carrying them out. No doubt she also belonged to the category of ordinary people who dream of being original, but she soon discovered that she had not a grain of true originality, and she did not let it trouble her too much. Perhaps a certain kind of pride came to her help. She made her first concession to the demands of practical life with great resolution when she consented to marry Ptitsin. However, when she married she did not say to herself, "Never mind a mean action if it leads to the end in view," as her brother would certainly have said in such a case; it is quite probable that he may have said it when he expressed his elder-brotherly satisfaction at her decision. Far from this; Varvara Ardalionovna did not marry until she felt convinced that her future husband was unassuming, agreeable, almost cultured, and that nothing on earth would tempt him to a really dishonourable deed. As to small meannesses, such trifles did not trouble her. Indeed, who is free from them? It is absurd to expect the ideal! Besides, she knew that her marriage would provide a refuge for all her family. Seeing Gania unhappy, she was anxious to help him, in spite of their former disputes and misunderstandings. Ptitsin, in a friendly way, would press his brother-in-law to enter the army. "You know," he said sometimes, jokingly, "you despise generals and generaldom, but you will see that 'they' will all end by being generals in their turn. You will see it if you live long enough!"
"But why should they suppose that I despise generals?" Gania thought sarcastically to himself.
To serve her brother's interests, Varvara Ardalionovna was constantly at the Epanchins' house, helped by the fact that in childhood she and Gania had played with General Ivan Fedorovitch's daughters. It would have been inconsistent with her character if in these visits she had been pursuing a chimera; her project was not chimerical at all; she was building on a firm basis--on her knowledge of the character of the Epanchin family, especially Aglaya, whom she studied closely. All Varvara's efforts were directed towards bringing Aglaya and Gania together. Perhaps she achieved some result; perhaps, also, she made the mistake of depending too much upon her brother, and expecting more from him than he would ever be capable of giving. However this may be, her manoeuvres were skilful enough. For weeks at a time she would never mention Gania. Her attitude was modest but dignified, and she was always extremely truthful and sincere. Examining the depths of her conscience, she found nothing to reproach herself with, and this still further strengthened her in her designs. But Varvara Ardalionovna sometimes remarked that she felt spiteful; that there was a good deal of vanity in her, perhaps even of wounded vanity. She noticed this at certain times more than at others, and especially after her visits to the Epanchins.
Today, as I have said, she returned from their house with a heavy feeling of dejection. There was a sensation of bitterness, a sort of mocking contempt, mingled with it.
Arrived at her own house, Varia heard a considerable commotion going on in the upper storey, and distinguished the voices of her father and brother. On entering the salon she found Gania pacing up and down at frantic speed, pale with rage and almost tearing his hair. She frowned, and subsided on to the sofa with a tired air, and without taking the trouble to remove her hat. She very well knew that if she kept quiet and asked her brother nothing about his reason for tearing up and down the room, his wrath would fall upon her head. So she hastened to put the question:
"The old story, eh?"
"Old story? No! Heaven knows what's up now--I don't! Father has simply gone mad; mother's in floods of tears. Upon my word, Varia, I must kick him out of the house; or else go myself," he added, probably remembering that he could not well turn people out of a house which was not his own.
"You must make allowances," murmured Varia.
"Make allowances? For whom? Him--the old blackguard? No, no, Varia--that won't do! It won't do, I tell you! And look at the swagger of the man! He's all to blame himself, and yet he puts on so much 'side' that you'd think--my word!--'It's too much trouble to go through the gate, you must break the fence for me!' That's the sort of air he puts on; but what's the matter with you, Varia? What a curious expression you have!"
"I'm all right," said Varia, in a tone that sounded as though she were all wrong.
Gania looked more intently at her.
"You've been THERE?" he asked, suddenly.
"Yes."
"Did you find out anything?"
"Nothing unexpected. I discovered that it's all true. My husband was wiser than either of us. Just as he suspected from the beginning, so it has fallen out. Where is he?"
"Out. Well--what has happened?--go on."
"The prince is formally engaged to her--that's settled. The elder sisters told me about it. Aglaya has agreed. They don't attempt to conceal it any longer; you know how mysterious and secret they have all been up to now. Adelaida's wedding is put off again, so that both can be married on one day. Isn't that delightfully romantic? Somebody ought to write a poem on it. Sit down and write an ode instead of tearing up and down like that. This evening Princess Bielokonski is to arrive; she comes just in time--they have a party tonight. He is to be presented to old Bielokonski, though I believe he knows her already; probably the engagement will be openly announced. They are only afraid that he may knock something down, or trip over something when he comes into the room. It would be just like him."
Gania listened attentively, but to his sister's astonishment he was by no means so impressed by this news (which should, she thought, have been so important to him) as she had expected.
"Well, it was clear enough all along," he said, after a moment's reflection. "So that's the end," he added, with a disagreeable smile, continuing to walk up and down the room, but much slower than before, and glancing slyly into his sister's face.
"It's a good thing that you take it philosophically, at all events," said Varia. "I'm really very glad of it."
"Yes, it's off our hands--off YOURS, I should say."
"I think I have served you faithfully. I never even asked you what happiness you expected to find with Aglaya."
"Did I ever expect to find happiness with Aglaya?"
"Come, come, don't overdo your philosophy. Of course you did. Now it's all over, and a good thing, too; pair of fools that we have been! I confess I have never been able to look at it seriously. I busied myself in it for your sake, thinking that there was no knowing what might happen with a funny girl like that to deal with. There were ninety to one chances against it. To this moment I can't make out why you wished for it."
"H'm! now, I suppose, you and your husband will never weary of egging me on to work again. You'll begin your lectures about perseverance and strength of will, and all that. I know it all by heart," said Gania, laughing.
"He's got some new idea in his head," thought Varia. "Are they pleased over there--the parents?" asked Gania, suddenly.
"N--no, I don't think they are. You can judge for yourself. I think the general is pleased enough; her mother is a little uneasy. She always loathed the idea of the prince as a HUSBAND; everybody knows that."
"Of course, naturally. The bridegroom is an impossible and ridiculous one. I mean, has SHE given her formal consent?"
"She has not said 'no,' up to now, and that's all. It was sure to be so with her. You know what she is like. You know how absurdly shy she is. You remember how she used to hide in a cupboard as a child, so as to avoid seeing visitors, for hours at a time. She is just the same now; but, do you know, I think there is something serious in the matter, even from her side; I feel it, somehow. She laughs at the prince, they say, from morn to night in order to hide her real feelings; but you may be sure she finds occasion to say something or other to him on the sly, for he himself is in a state of radiant happiness. He walks in the clouds; they say he is extremely funny just now; I heard it from themselves. They seemed to be laughing at me in their sleeves-- those elder girls--I don't know why."
Gania had begun to frown, and probably Varia added this last sentence in order to probe his thought. However, at this moment, the noise began again upstairs.
"I'll turn him out!" shouted Gania, glad of the opportunity of venting his vexation. "I shall just turn him out--we can't have this."
"Yes, and then he'll go about the place and disgrace us as he did yesterday."
"How 'as he did yesterday'? What do you mean? What did he do yesterday?" asked Gania, in alarm.
"Why, goodness me, don't you know?" Varia stopped short.
"What? You don't mean to say that he went there yesterday!" cried Gania, flushing red with shame and anger. "Good heavens, Varia! Speak! You have just been there. WAS he there or not, QUICK?" And Gania rushed for the door. Varia followed and caught him by both hands.
"What are you doing? Where are you going to? You can't let him go now; if you do he'll go and do something worse."
"What did he do there? What did he say?" "They couldn't tell me themselves; they couldn't make head or tail of it; but he frightened them all. He came to see the general, who was not at home; so he asked for Lizabetha Prokofievna. First of all, he begged her for some place, or situation, for work of some kind, and then he began to complain about US, about me and my husband, and you, especially YOU; he said a lot of things."
"Oh! couldn't you find out?" muttered Gania, trembling hysterically.
"No--nothing more than that. Why, they couldn't understand him themselves; and very likely didn't tell me all."
Gania seized his head with both hands and tottered to the window; Varia sat down at the other window.
"Funny girl, Aglaya," she observed, after a pause. "When she left me she said, 'Give my special and personal respects to your parents; I shall certainly find an opportunity to see your father one day,' and so serious over it. She's a strange creature."
"Wasn't she joking? She was speaking sarcastically!" "Not a bit of it; that's just the strange part of it."
"Does she know about father, do you think--or not?"
"That they do NOT know about it in the house is quite certain, the rest of them, I mean; but you have given me an idea. Aglaya perhaps knows. She alone, though, if anyone; for the sisters were as astonished as I was to hear her speak so seriously. If she knows, the prince must have told her."
"Oh! it's not a great matter to guess who told her. A thief! A thief in our family, and the head of the family, too!"
"Oh! nonsense!" cried Varia, angrily. "That was nothing but a drunkard's tale. Nonsense! Why, who invented the whole thing-- Lebedeff and the prince--a pretty pair! Both were probably drunk."
"Father is a drunkard and a thief; I am a beggar, and the husband of my sister is a usurer," continued Gania, bitterly. "There was a pretty list of advantages with which to enchant the heart of Aglaya."
"That same husband of your sister, the usurer--"
"Feeds me? Go on. Don't stand on ceremony, pray."
"Don't lose your temper. You are just like a schoolboy. You think that all this sort of thing would harm you in Aglaya's eyes, do you? You little know her character. She is capable of refusing the most brilliant party, and running away and starving in a garret with some wretched student; that's the sort of girl she is. You never could or did understand how interesting you would have seen in her eyes if you had come firmly and proudly through our misfortunes. The prince has simply caught her with hook and line; firstly, because he never thought of fishing for her, and secondly, because he is an idiot in the eyes of most people. It's quite enough for her that by accepting him she puts her family out and annoys them all round--that's what she likes. You don't understand these things."
"We shall see whether I understand or no!" said Gania, enigmatically. "But I shouldn't like her to know all about father, all the same. I thought the prince would manage to hold his tongue about this, at least. He prevented Lebedeff spreading the news--he wouldn't even tell me all when I asked him--"
"Then you must see that he is not responsible. What does it matter to you now, in any case? What are you hoping for still? If you HAVE a hope left, it is that your suffering air may soften her heart towards you."
"Oh, she would funk a scandal like anyone else. You are all tarred with one brush!"
"What! AGLAYA would have funked? You are a chicken-hearted fellow, Gania!" said Varia, looking at her brother with contempt. "Not one of us is worth much. Aglaya may be a wild sort of a girl, but she is far nobler than any of us, a thousand times nobler!"
"Well--come! there's nothing to get cross about," said Gania.
"All I'm afraid of is--mother. I'm afraid this scandal about father may come to her ears; perhaps it has already. I am dreadfully afraid."
"It undoubtedly has already!" observed Gania.
Varia had risen from her place and had started to go upstairs to her mother; but at this observation of Gania's she turned and gazed at him attentively.
"Who could have told her?"
"Hippolyte, probably. He would think it the most delightful amusement in the world to tell her of it the instant he moved over here; I haven't a doubt of it."
"But how could he know anything of it? Tell me that. Lebedeff and the prince determined to tell no one--even Colia knows nothing."
"What, Hippolyte? He found it out himself, of course. Why, you have no idea what a cunning little animal he is; dirty little gossip! He has the most extraordinary nose for smelling out other people's secrets, or anything approaching to scandal. Believe it or not, but I'm pretty sure he has got round Aglaya. If he hasn't, he soon will. Rogojin is intimate with him, too. How the prince doesn't notice it, I can't understand. The little wretch considers me his enemy now and does his best to catch me tripping. What on earth does it matter to him, when he's dying? However, you'll see; I shall catch HIM tripping yet, and not he me."
"Why did you get him over here, if you hate him so? And is it really worth your while to try to score off him?"
"Why, it was yourself who advised me to bring him over!"
"I thought he might be useful. You know he is in love with Aglaya himself, now, and has written to her; he has even written to Lizabetha Prokofievna!"
"Oh! he's not dangerous there!" cried Gania, laughing angrily. "However, I believe there is something of that sort in the air; he is very likely to be in love, for he is a mere boy. But he won't write anonymous letters to the old lady; that would be too audacious a thing for him to attempt; but I dare swear the very first thing he did was to show me up to Aglaya as a base deceiver and intriguer. I confess I was fool enough to attempt something through him at first. I thought he would throw himself into my service out of revengeful feelings towards the prince, the sly little beast! But I know him better now. As for the theft, he may have heard of it from the widow in Petersburg, for if the old man committed himself to such an act, he can have done it for no other object but to give the money to her. Hippolyte said to me, without any prelude, that the general had promised the widow four hundred roubles. Of course I understood, and the little wretch looked at me with a nasty sort of satisfaction. I know him; you may depend upon it he went and told mother too, for the pleasure of wounding her. And why doesn't he die, I should like to know? He undertook to die within three weeks, and here he is getting fatter. His cough is better, too. It was only yesterday that he said that was the second day he hadn't coughed blood."
"Well, turn him out!"
"I don't HATE, I despise him," said Gania, grandly. "Well, I do hate him, if you like!" he added, with a sudden access of rage, "and I'll tell him so to his face, even when he's dying! If you had but read his confession--good Lord! what refinement of impudence! Oh, but I'd have liked to whip him then and there, like a schoolboy, just to see how surprised he would have been! Now he hates everybody because he--Oh, I say, what on earth are they doing there! Listen to that noise! I really can't stand this any longer. Ptitsin!" he cried, as the latter entered the room, "what in the name of goodness are we coming to? Listen to that--"
But the noise came rapidly nearer, the door burst open, and old General Ivolgin, raging, furious, purple-faced, and trembling with anger, rushed in. He was followed by Nina Alexandrovna, Colia, and behind the rest, Hippolyte.


我们故事中的两位主人公在绿色长椅上约会以后过了约星期。在一个明媚的上午１０点半左右，瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜·普季岑娜出来拜访自己的熟人后，思虑重重、黯然神伤地回到家里。
有这么一种人，对他们很难说出什么最典型、最有特点的个性能一下子整个地形容他们；这是那些通常被称作“平平常常”、“绝大多数”的人，他们确实构成任何社会的大多数。作家们在自己的中长篇小说中大多努力选取社会的典型，形象地、艺术地表现他们，这种典型在现实生活中完全是很少能遇见的，但是他们几乎比现实本身更为现实。波德科列辛＊作为一种典型，也许甚至是夸大了的，但绝非凭空捏造。有多少聪明人从果戈理那里认识了波德科列辛后，立即就发现有几十、几百他们的熟人和朋友跟波德科列辛相象得不得了。在读到果戈理的作品前他们就知道，他们的这些朋友就是波德科列辛这样的人，只是还不知道就该这样称呼他罢了。在现实生活中新郎面临婚礼时跳窗逃走是极为罕见的，因为不说别的，这样做至少是很让人尴尬的；但是有多少新郎，甚至还是些可尊敬的聪明人，在婚礼前却在自己内心深处准备承认自己是波德科列辛。不是所有的丈夫时时处处都高喊：“Ｔｕ Ｉ’ａｓ　ｖｏｕｌｕ，Ｇｅｏｒｇｅ ｄａｎｄｉｍ！＊但是，天哪，全世界有多少丈夫在他们的蜜月后却几百万次甚至几十亿次重复着这一发自心扉的呼声，而谁又知道，也许就在婚礼后的第二天。
就这样，我们不再做更认真的说明，只想说，在现实生活中人物的典型性仿佛被掺了水，所有这些乔治·当丹和波德科列辛确实是存在的，每天在我们面前奔来奔去，往来穿梭，但是似乎处于稍微稀释的状态。最后，为了真理的全面性，需要附带说明一下，整个儿如莫里哀塑造的乔治·当丹一般的活乔治·当丹，在现实生活中也可能会遇到，尽管很难得碰上。我们就此结束我们的议论，它开始变得像杂志上的批评文章了。但是在我们面前毕竟还留着一个问题：小说家该怎么处理那些普普通通、完全是“平平常常的”人，怎么把他们展示给读者，使他们多少变得能使人产生兴趣？在叙述中完全避开他们无论如何是办不到的，因为普通人无时无刻都大量地构成了日常生活事件中必不可少的环节；避开他们，也就破坏了真实性。光用一些典型去充塞小说，或者，为了引人兴趣，甚至干脆让一些古怪和虚幻的人物布满小说，那么是不真实的，大概，也不会引起兴趣。据我们看来，即使是在普通人中间，作家也应该努力去寻找有意义的和有教益的特色。例如，有些普通人的本质恰恰在于他们始终一贯和一成不变的普通性上，或者，更好的是，尽管这些人的非凡的努力无论如何想要脱离平常和保守的巢穴，他们的结局去仍然是依然故我，永远只是墨守成规，那么这样的人甚至具有某种自己的典型性--普通人的典型，他们怎么也不想当他本来当的普通人，千方百计想成为与众不同和有独立精神的人，却又不具备丝毫独立的本领。
＊果戈理喜剧《结婚》中的人物。
＊＊法国莫里哀的喜剧《乔汉·当丹》中的话，“你是自作自受，乔治·当丹”。
我们故事中的某些人就属于这一类“平平常常”或“普普通通”的人，至今还很少向读者交代清楚他们的情况（我承认这一点）。瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜·普季岑娜，她的丈夫普季岑先生，她的兄长加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇正是这样的人。
确实，没有什么比做一个例如这样的人更懊丧的了：具有富裕的家财，高贵的姓氏，像样的外表，不错的教育，人也不蠢，甚至心地善良，可同时却没有任何才能、任何特长、甚至任何古怪行为、任何一个自己的思想，完全“跟大家一样”。财产是有的，但不是罗特希尔德那样的富翁；姓氏是清白的，但从来也没有标志过什么；外表是体面的，但很少能表明什么；所受的教育是正规的，但是却不知道用到什么地方去；智慧是有的，但没有自己的思想；心地是好的，但缺乏宽宏大量；等等，等等，一切方面都是如此。世界上这样的人异常之多，甚至比觉得的多得多；如所有的人一样，他们被分为两大类：一类是才智有限的，另一类“聪明得多”，前者要幸运得多。对于才智有限的“平常人”来说没有比把自己想象成是不平凡的、与众不同的人更容易的了，他们毫不犹豫地以此为乐，聊以自慰。我们的有些小姐只要剪短自己的头发，戴上蓝色眼镜，自称是虚无主义者，马上就相信，戴上眼镜后他们便立即有了自己的“信念”。有的人只要在自己心里感觉到点滴全人类的和善良的感受，便立即确信，谁也不会有他这样的情感，他在总体发展上是个先进者。有的人只要口头上接受某种思想或者没头没尾读了页把书，便马上相信这是在他自己的头脑里产生的“自己的思想”。在这种种情况下厚颜无耻的幼稚（如果可以这样说的话）会达到令人吃惊的地步；所有这一切令人不可思议，但却时时刻刻都能遇到。果戈理在惊人的典型皮罗戈夫＊中尉身上把这种厚颜无耻的幼雅；把一个蠢人对自己和自己的才能的毫不怀疑的自信绝妙地表现了出来，皮罗戈夫甚至并不怀疑自己是个天才，甚至高于所有的天才；他自信到一次也没有向自己提出过这种疑问，不过，对他来说是不存在疑问的。终于，为了满足道德感情受了侮辱的读者，伟大的作家不得不鞭笞了他一顿，但是，看到这位大人物仅仅是抖了抖身子，在挨了打以后为了补足精力吃了千层饼，作家也只能摊摊双手，不管自己的读者了。我一直为果戈理笔下的这位伟大的皮罗戈夫只有这么低的军衔而痛惜，因为皮罗戈夫是那样自鸣得意，随着年资增长和职衔升迁他戴的肩章的穗干将越来越粗，越来越打转，他也就更容易把自己想象成例如是个出类拔萃的统帅；甚至不是想象，简直就深信不疑，升了将军，怎么会不是统帅呢？这样的将军后来在战场上惨遭失败又有多少？而在我们的文学家、学者、鼓动家中又有过多少皮罗戈夫？我说“有过”，但是，当然，现在也有……
我们故事中的人物加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇·伊沃尔京属于另一类人；他属于“聪明得多”这一类人，尽管他从头到脚浑身都沾染了要出人头地的愿望。但是这一类人，正如我们在前面已经指出的那样，比起前者来要不幸得多。问题在于，聪明的“平常人”即使有时候（也许是一辈子）把自己想象成出类拔孽的天才，但是在自己心底还保留着一条怀疑的蛆虫，它能使聪明人有时完全陷于绝望而告终；如果他屈服于命运，也已经被深入内心的虚荣完全毒害了。不过，我们举的例子无论如何是个极端，绝大多数这类聪明人的遭遇完全不是这么悲惨的；仅仅在暮年时肝脏多少会有损害，如此而已。但是，在顺从和屈服以前，这些人终究是会异常长久地闹腾一通，从青年时代起直至与世无争的年龄，而一切全是出于要出人头地的愿望。甚至还会遇到非常奇怪的情况：出于出人头地的愿望有的正派人甚至下得了决心会干卑贱的事；甚至也常有这样的事：这些不幸的人中有的不仅正直，而且甚至还很善良，是全家的神明，用自己的劳动不仅赡养自己的家人，而且还养活他人，结果又怎样呢？一辈子不得安宁！他曾这么好地履行了自己做人的职责，这样的想法丝毫也不能使他安宁和得到慰藉；甚至相反会刺激他，他会说：“瞧，我一辈子在忙什么了，就是这一切束缚了我的手脚，就是这一切妨碍我发明火药！假若没有这一切，我一定能发明什么，不是发明火药，就是发现美洲，－－确实我还不知道会发明什么，但是一定会发明的！”这些先生最本质的特点是，他们这一辈子无论如何也不能确切知道，什么是他们应该去发现的一什夕是他们准备奉献终生去发现的，火药还是美洲，不过，说真的，他们瞩望发明所受的痛苦和烦恼也够得上哥伦布或伽利略那份命运了，加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇正是这样开始他的人生的，但还刚刚开始。他会面临长时间的折腾、一方面不断地深深感受到自己的缺少才能，另一方面不可抑制地要使自己相信他是个有独立精神的人，这二者的矛盾几乎还是从少年时代起就使他的心灵受到了严重的创伤。这是个生性嫉妒、有着强烈欲望的年轻人，而且，好像生来就有一副好激动的神经。他把自己炽烈的愿望看做是力量。怀着超凡脱俗的热望，他有时准备做最不明智的贸然的跳跃；但是事情进行到刚刚要做这贸然的跳跃时，我们的主人公要下决心时，他又总是聪明过头。这就使他痛苦万分。也许，有时候他甚至下了决心去干极端卑鄙的事，只要能达到他理想中的东西；但是仿佛故意的，事情二旦要采取行动了，对于要于这极端卑鄙的事，他又总是太正直了（不过，干那种卑鄙的小事槽他是随时都会同意的）。他怀着厌恶的和憎恨的心理看着自己家庭的贫穷和败落。他甚至傲慢和轻蔑地对待母亲，尽管他自己也清楚地懂得，母亲的名声和性格现在还是他功名的主要支撑点。到叶潘钦将军那里干事，他立即对自己说：“既然要做卑鄙下流的事，那就做个彻底，只要能赢。”可是几乎从来也没有彻底地去做。再做，为什么他想到他一定得做卑鄙下流的事呢？那个时候他简直怕阿格拉娅，但是他并没有放弃与她的关系，而是抱着万一的希望，拽着它，虽然他从来也没有当真相信过她会俯就他、后来，在跟纳斯塔西娅·费利帕夫娜有纠葛这件事中，他突然领悟到，要达到一切全在于钱。“卑鄙下流就卑鄙下流，”那时他每天都以自我满足同时也有几分惧怕的心理反复对自己说这话；“既然卑鄙下流，就索性卑鄙下流到顶，”他时时给自己鼓气，“在这种时候墨守成规是会胆怯的，而我们并不畏怯！”他输掉了阿格拉娅，又被情势所压垮，便完全心灰意懒，真的把当时发了狂的女人扔给他的钱送来给公爵（而给那女人送钱来的也是一个发了狂的人。）后来他对于还钱这件事后悔了上千次，尽管与此同时他又吹嘘这一点，在公爵留在彼得堡时，他确实曾哭了三天，但是在这三天中他也已经开始憎恨公爵，因为公爵过分同情地看待他，而那时他归还这样数额的钱，“不是所有的人都有决心这么做的。”但是他老实地自我承认，他的全部苦恼就只是虚荣心不断地受到压抑，这种承认又强烈地折磨着他。直到过了很久以后他才看清并确信，他跟阿格拉娅这样天真、古怪的小姐之间的事本来当真能发展的，悔恨啮噬着他的心；他放弃了职务，沉溺于苦恼和灰心之中。他和父母都住在普季岑家并由其供养，同时他又公开蔑视普季岑，虽然他经常听从他的劝告，而且是那样明理，几乎总是征询他的意见。比方说，普季岑并不奢望成为罗特希尔德，也不以此为目标，这使加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇很生气。“既然是放高利货，那就干到底，就去压榨人，从他们那里压出钱来，要有刚硬的性格，要做一个犹太王！”普季岑是个谦和，安详的人，他只是微笑，但有一次他认为甚至有必要与加尼亚认真地解释一下并带着几分尊严做了这件事，他向加尼亚证明他没有做过任何不正派的事，因此加尼亚称他为犹太人是没有道理的；如果说要付出这样的代价得到钱，那么他也没有过错，他做事诚实，正派，真诚，他仅仅是“这些”事情的代理人，最后，他说，由于他办事认真，已经在一些最有优势的人中间享有相当好的声誉，他的事业在扩大。“我不会做罗特希乐德，再说也没什么必要，”他笑着补充说，干而在利捷伊纳亚街上会有我的一幢房子，也许，甚至是两幢，我也就到此为止。”“谁知道呢。也许是三幢！”他暗自思忖，但从来也不说出声来，一直隐瞒着自己的理想。而命运喜欢和爱抚这样的人；它会奖赏给普季岑不是三幢，而一定是四幢楼，正是因为他从小已经知道，他永远不会成为罗特希尔德。但是超过四幢楼，命运也是怎么也下会给的，普季岑的事业也就到那为止了。
＊果戈理著《涅瓦大街》里的人物。
加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇的妹妹则完全是另一种人。她也怀着强烈的愿望，但执著多于激动。当事情进行到最后关头时，她不乏理智，但是即使是不到最后关头时，理智也没有离开她。确实，她也是属于期望出人头地的“平常人”之列，然而她很快就能意识到，她身上没有点滴别的独特之处，但她对此并没有过多的忧伤，谁知道呢，也许是出于一种特别的自尊。她以非凡的决心做出了第一步实际的行动，嫁给了普季岑先生；但是出嫁的时候她根本就没有对自己说：“卑鄙下流就卑鄙下流，只要达到目的，”不像加夫里拉·阿尔达利翁诺维奇那样在这种情况下是不会放过说这种话的（作为兄长他赞同她的决定，甚至差点当着她的面说这话）。甚至完全相反，瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜有充分根据相信她未来的丈夫是个谦和、令人好感的人，几乎是有教养的人，无论如何永远也不会去做缺大德的恶事，正是确信这些以后她才嫁给他。对于那些细小的缺德事，瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜就像对鸡毛蒜皮的小事一样未加过问；哪里没有这样的小缺德事呢？找的可不是理想人物嘛！何况她知道，她出嫁就可以给自己的父母、兄弟一个栖身之处。看到兄长遭遇不幸，她想帮助他，尽管过去有过种种家庭的误解，普季岑有时催加尼亚，当然是友好地催促，催他去找差使。“你瞧不起将军和将军的衔头，”他有时开玩笑对他说，“可是你瞧吧，所有‘他们’这些人最终都成了将军；你活到那个时候，就会看到的。”“可是凭什么他们认为我轻视将军和将军衔头呢？”加尼亚讥讽地暗自思忖。为了帮助兄长，瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜决定扩大自己的行动范围：她打进叶潘钦家，儿童时代的回忆帮了很大的忙：她和哥哥还在童年时就和叶潘钦家的小姐们一起玩耍过。这里要指出，假若瓦尔瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜去拜访叶潘钦小姐是追求某种不寻常的理想，那么她马上就会脱离她自己把自己归入的那一类人；但是她追求的不是理想；从她来讲这里甚至有相当切实的盘算：她是以这一家的性格做基础的。她孜孜不倦地研究过阿格拉娅的性格。她向自己提出了任务，要使哥哥和阿格拉娅两人彼此重新回心转意。也许，她确实己达到了某些进展；也许，她陷进过错误，比方说，过多地寄希望于兄长，期待着从他那里得到他永远也不会以任何方式给予的东西。不论怎样，她在叶潘钦家做得相当巧妙：好多星期她都不提她哥哥的事，总是异常真挚诚恳，举止不卑不亢。至于自己的良心深处，她不怕朝里窥视，觉得完全没什么可以责备自己的。这一点赋予她力量。有时候她发觉自己身上只有一点不好，那就是跟她也许好发怒。也有很强的自尊心，甚至几乎是虚荣心，只是受到了压抑；几乎每次离开叶潘钦家时，她尤其会觉到这一点。
现在她就是从她们那儿回来，正如我们已经说过的那样，她陷于忧伤的沉思之中。在这种忧伤中透露出一丝嘲讽和痛苦。普季岑在帕夫洛夫斯克住在一幢并不漂亮，但宽敞的木屋里。这幢小屋坐落在尘上飞扬的街道上。很快就将完全归他所有，因而已经轮到他开始把它卖给什么人了。瓦乐瓦拉·阿尔达利翁诺夫娜登上台阶的时候，听到楼上非同寻常的吵架声，并区分出哥哥的和爸爸大叫大嚷的嗓门。走进厅屋，她看见加尼亚气得脸色煞白，几乎揪着自己的头发，在房问里来回急步上着，她皱了下眉头，带着一副疲倦的样子，帽子也不脱就坐到沙发上：她非常清楚地懂得：如果她再沉默一分钟，不问一声哥哥，为什么他这样急步走来走，他一定会生气的，因此瓦里娅终于赶紧开腔问道：
“还是老一套。”
“哪是什么老一套！”加尼亚嚷着，“老一套！不，鬼知道现在发生了什么，而不是老一套！老头变得疯了似的……妈妈在号啕大哭。真的，瓦里娅，随你怎么样，我要把他赶出家门，或者……或者我自己离开你们，”他补了一句，大概是想起了，不能把人从人家家里赶走。
“应该宽容些。”瓦里娅低声说。
“宽容什么？对谁？”加尼亚怒气勃勃说，“宽容他的卑劣行为？不，随你怎么说‘这可不行！不行，不行，不行！’而且，瞧他那副佯子：自己有过错，却还神气活现的。‘我不想走大门，给我把围墙拆了！……’你怎么这副样子坐着，你的脸色怎么这样？”
“脸色就脸色呗，”瓦里娅不满地说。
加尼亚更用心地看了她一眼。
“你到那边去了？”他突然问。
“等一等，他们又嚷起来了：真够羞耻的，而且还在这样的时刻！”
“什么这样的时刻？没有什么特别的这样的时刻。”
加尼亚更加专注地打量着妹妹。
“你知道什么了。”他问。
“至少没有什么出人意料的事。我打听到，这一切都是真的。我丈夫比我们俩估计得更正确：一开始他就预言过，果真就是这么回事。他在什么地方？”
“不在家。是什么结果？”
“公爵已是正式的未婚夫了，事情已经决定。是两位姐姐告诉我的。阿格拉娅也同意了；他们甚至也不再隐瞒了。（那里在这以前总有一种神秘的气氛。）阿杰莱达的婚礼又拖延了，为的是一下子同时举行一个婚礼，在同一天，真够诗意的！就像一首诗。你还是做一首结婚的诗，也比白白地地满屋子乱转要好。今天晚上别洛孔斯卡娅要到他们家，她来得正是时候，还会有别的客人。他们要把他介绍给洛孔断卡娅，虽然他已经认识她了，似乎要当众宣布。他们只是担心，公爵当着客人的面走迸房间的时候，可别掉下或打碎什么东西，或者他自己别噗通一声倒下了，他总会出什么事。”
加尼亚听得非常注意，但是使其妹妹感到惊奇的是，这一应该使他吃惊的消息似乎一点也没有使他产生惊讶的反应。
“这有什么，这是明摆着的，”想了一下后他说，“这就是说，一切结束了！”他带着一种奇怪的苦笑补充说，一边狡黯地探察着妹妹的脸色，依然继续在房间里来回走着，但已经安宁得多了。
“还好，你能以皙学家的姿态接受这样的事实，真的，我很高兴，”瓦里娅说。
“可以解脱了；至少你可以解脱了。”
“可以说，我是诚心为你效劳的， 既没高谈阔论，也没惹你厌烦；我没有问过你，你想在阿格拉娅那里寻求什么样的幸福？”
“难道我……在阿格拉娅那里寻求过幸福？”
“算了，请别热衷于哲学！当然是这样。当然，我们也够了，当了傻瓜。我向你承认，对这件事我从来也没有认真对待过；只不过是抱着‘万一能成’的心理做这书件，把希望寄托在她那可笑的性格上，而主要是为了使你感到快慰，虽然有百分之九十的可能要垮，我甚至到现在还不知道，你想达到的是什么目标。”
“现在你和丈夫又要催我去干差事了；又要对我大讲起顽强和意志力的道理来，别瞧不起于小事，等等，我都能背得出来，”加尼亚哈哈笑了起来。
“他头脑里有什么新的想法！”瓦里娅想。
“那边怎么样，父母高兴吗。”突然加尼亚问。
“好像不高兴，其实，你自己也能得到结论；伊万·费奥多罗维奇是满意的，母亲则担心；过去她对于要把他当女婿来看并不怀有好感，这是众所周知的。”
“我不是说这个；他当未婚夫是不可思议和难以想象的，这很明白。我问的是现在的情况，现在那边怎么样，她正式同意了？”
“到现在她没有说过‘不’，这就是全部情况，但是也不可能从那里得到什么别的表示，你知道，到现在她的害羞腼腆和怕难为情有多乖戾：小时候她常钻到柜子里，在那里蹲上两三个小时，只是为了不出来见客人，现在个子长这么高，可还是那个样。知道吗，我不知为什么想，那边确实有什么严重的事情，甚至是她那方面的。据说，她从早到晚一个劲儿嘲笑公爵，为的是不露声色，但想必每天她都会对他说悄悄话，因为他就像在天堂里那样容光焕发……据说，他可笑得不得了。总之也是从她们那里听来的，我也觉得，她们那两个姐姐在当面取笑我。”
加尼亚终于变得阴郁起来；也许，瓦里娅故意深入到这个话题里去，以便洞察他的真正思想。但是上面又响起了喊叫声。
“我要赶他走！”加尼亚大吼一声，仿佛很高兴能借此发泄自己的烦恼。
“那他又会像昨天一样到处丢我们的脸。”
“怎么--像昨天一样？像昨天--这是怎么一回事？难道……”加尼亚突然惊慌得不得了。
“啊，我的天哪，难道你不知道？”瓦里娅恍然大悟。
“怎么……这么说难道是真的他到那儿去过了？”加尼亚又羞又怒，涨得满脸通红，大声嚷道，“天哪，你不是从那儿来吗？你知道些什么？老头去过那里没有？去还是没去过？”
加尼亚向门口冲去，瓦里娅奔向他，双手抓住了他。
“你要干什么？你说，你要去哪儿？”她说，“你现在放他走，他会做出更糟糕的事来，会去找所有的人！……”
“他在那边干了什么了？说了什么。”
“他们自己也讲不清楚，也不明白；只不过把大家吓坏了，他去找伊万·费奥多罗维奇，他不在，他便要求见叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜。起先请求她谋个位置，找份差事，后来便抱怨起我们来，说我，说我丈夫，尤其是说你……说了一大堆话。”
“你没弄清楚说些什么。”加尼亚似歇斯底里发作一般全身发抖。
“哪能呢！他自己也未必明白说了些什么，也许，他们没有全转告我。”
加尼亚抓住脑袋，跑向窗口，瓦里娅在另一扇窗边坐下。
“可笑的阿格拉娅，”她突然指出，“叫住我说：“请向您父母转达我个人的特别是敬意；日内我一定找机会跟您爸爸见面。’她说得非常认真。奇怪得不得了……”
“不是嘲笑？不是讥讽。”
“正因为不是，所以才觉得奇怪。”
“她知道不知道老头的事，你怎么想？”
“他们家里不知道，这一点我不怀疑；但是你使我产生一个想法：阿格拉娅可能知道，就她一个人知道，因为当她这么认真地转达对父亲的问候时，她的两个姐姐也感到惊奇。再说是什么缘由正是向他致意？如果她知道，那就是公爵转告她的，”
“谁告诉她的，这不费劲知道，竟然当起小偷来了！这还不够吗？就在我们家，还是‘一家之主’呢！”
“嘿，胡说！”瓦里娅完全发火了，嚷道，“那是喝碎了胡闹的，没有别的用意；谁捏造这种话的？列别杰夫，公爵……他门自己都是好人；聪明过人。我可不怎么看重这一点。”
“老头是小偷和酒鬼，”加尼亚继续尖酸刻薄地说，“我是个穷鬼，妹夫是个放高利贷的，真有碍阿格打娅眼红的！没什么好说的，真够动听的！”
“这个妹夫，放高利贷者，在……”
“在养我，是不是？请你不用客气。”
“你发什么脾气？”瓦里娅豁然醒悟过来说，“你什么也不明白。就像个小学生似的。你以为，这一切都会损害你在阿格拉娅心目中的形象？你不知道她的性格；她能不理睬头号有钱的阔女婿，而心甘情愿地跑到某个大学生住的街上，跟他一起饿得要死，这就是她的理想！你永远也不可能理解，假如你能坚定和自尊地经受住我们这种家境，你在她眼里就会变得多么有意思！公爵使她上钩用的办法，第一，根本不去钓她，第二、他在大家面前装做白痴。为了他她把全家搞得乱糟糟的。单就这一点觉得好。咳，您什么也不明白！”
“得了，还得瞧，它竟明白下明白，”加尼亚令人费解地低语说，“只不过我依然不希望她知道老头的事。我认为，公爵会守口如瓶，不讲出去的。他也会制止列别杰夫的；在我缠着他问时，他也不想全对我说……”
“看来，你自己也看到了，除了他一切已经昭然若揭了。现在你还想干什么？还指望什么？如果还存在一线希望的话，那么这仅仅使你在她眼中平添了一副受难的样子。”
“嘿，尽管阿格拉娅充满罗曼蒂克，可是这种丑事也会使她望而却步的。一切都有一定的界限，一切都有一定的界限，你们全都是这样。”
“阿格拉娅会畏怯？”瓦里娅轻蔑瞥了一眼兄长，火冒三丈地说，“可是你的灵魂是卑贱的！你们这种人全都一钱不值，纵然她可笑、古怪，可是比我们所有的人要高尚成千倍。”
“好了，没什么，没什么，别生气，”加尼亚满意地又低声说。
“我只是怜悯母亲，”瓦里娅继续说，“我担心父亲的这件事会传到她耳朵里。哎，真担心！”
“大概已经传到了，”加尼亚指出。
瓦里娅本已站起来想上楼到尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜那儿去，但停住身，注意地看了一眼兄长。
“谁会对她说呢？”
“想必是伊波利特。我认为，他一搬到我们这儿来，就把向母亲报告这件事看做是第一件乐事。”
“他又怎么知道的呢，请告诉我？公爵和列别杰夫决定对谁都不说出来，甚至科利亚也什么都不知道。”
“伊波利特？他自己打听到的。你无法想象，这家伙狡猾到什么程度，他多会搬弄是非，他有多么灵敏的鼻子，能嗅出一切丑事，一切坏事。嘿，信不信随你，而我深信，他已经把阿格拉娅掌握在手中。即使还没有掌握到手，也将会掌握到手的。罗戈任也跟他有联系，公爵怎么会没有注意到这一点！而且他现在多想暗算我呀！他把我看做是私敌，这点我早看清楚了，他干吗要这样，他这是要干什么，他可是快要死的人，我真不明白！但是我要哄骗他；你瞧着，不是他暗算我，而是我算计他。”
“你这么恨他，又为什么引他过来呢？他值得你费心算计他吗？”
“是你建议他搬到我们这儿来的。”
“我以为他会是个有用的人；知道吗，他自己现在爱上了阿格拉娅并给她写信。她们详细地探问我……他差点要给叶莉扎维塔·普罗科菲耶夫娜写信呢。”
“在这个意义上他并不危险！”加尼亚恶狠狠地笑着说，“不过，确实有什么地方不是那么回事。说他爱上了阿格拉娅，这很可能，因为是男孩嘛！但是……他不会给老太婆写匿名信。这是个恶毒、渺小、自负的庸人！……我能肯定，我确信，他在她面前把我们形容成阴谋家，他就是这样开始的。我承认，我起先像傻瓜似的对他泄露了我的心思；我以为，出于同样的对公爵报复的动计他会跟我利益一致；他是这么个狡猾的家伙！哦，我现在完全看透他了。关于这桩偷窃事他是从自己母亲，即大尉妻子那里听来的。老头既然决定干这事，就是为了大尉妻子。伊波列特突然无缘无故告诉我，‘将军’答应给他母亲４００卢布，他就这样没头没脑，不拘任何礼节地对我说了。这下我就全明白了。而他就那样窥视着我的眼睛，一副得到满足的神态。他一定也讲给妈妈听了，纯粹是要撕碎她的心而得到满足。他干吗还不死，你倒告诉我？他可是过三星期就该死的。而在这里还养胖了点！他也不再咳嗽了；昨天晚上他自己对我说，已经两天没咯血了。”
“赶他走。”
“我不是恨他，而是蔑视他，”加尼亚骄傲地说，“好，是的，是的，就算我恨他吧，就算是吧！”他突然异常愤怒地喊了起来，“我要当面对他说这点，即使他躺在枕头上即将死去，我也要说！假如你读过他的《自白》，天哪，你就会知道，他的幼稚到了多么无耻的地步！这是皮罗戈夫中尉，这是悲剧中的诺兹德廖夫＊，而主要的是个男孩！我那时要是揍他一顿，让他吃惊吃惊。该有多痛快。现在他向所有的人报复，就为了当时他没有得逞……但这是怎么回事？那里又闹起来了！这到底是怎么回事？我终究会忍受不了的。普季岑！”他向走进房间的普季岑喊了起来，“这算什么，事情到底要闹到什么地步？这……这……”
但吵闹声很快就越来越近了，门突然敞开了，伊沃尔京老头怒气冲冲，面孔发紫，浑身颤抖，无所约束地朝普季岑大发雷霆。尼娜·亚历山德罗夫娜、科利亚跟在老头后面，在大家后面的则是伊波利特。
回复 引用 新鲜事
顶端
« 返回列表
发帖 回复