白痴 英文版 The Idiot
陀思妥耶夫斯基 Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The Idiot VIII. Page 1
The flat occupied by Gania and his family was on the third floorof the house. It was reached by a clean light staircase, andconsisted of seven rooms, a nice enough lodging, and one wouldhave thought a little too good for a clerk on two thousandroubles a year. But it was designed to accommodate a few lodgerson board terms, and had beer) taken a few months since, much tothe disgust of Gania, at the urgent request of his mother and hissister, Varvara Ardalionovna, who longed to do something toincrease the family income a little, and fixed their hopes uponletting lodgings. Gania frowned upon the idea. He thought itinfra dig, and did not quite like appearing in societyafterwards--that society in which he had been accustomed to poseup to now as a young man of rather brilliant prospects. All theseconcessions and rebuffs of fortune, of late, had wounded hisspirit severely, and his temper had become extremely irritable,his wrath being generally quite out of proportion to the cause.But if he had made up his mind to put up with this sort of lifefor a while, it was only on the plain understanding with hisinner self that he would very soon change it all, and have thingsas he chose again. Yet the very means by which he hoped to makethis change threatened to involve him in even greaterdifficulties than he had had before.
The flat was divided by a passage which led straight out of theentrance-hall. Along one side of this corridor lay the threerooms which were designed for the accommodation of the "highlyrecommended" lodgers. Besides these three rooms there wasanother small one at the end of the passage, close to thekitchen, which was allotted to General Ivolgin, the nominalmaster of the house, who slept on a wide sofa, and was obligedto pass into and out of his room through the kitchen, and upor down the back stairs. Colia, Gania's young brother, aschool-boy of thirteen, shared this room with his father.He, too, had to sleep on an old sofa, a narrow, uncomfortablething with a torn rug over it; his chief duty being to lookafter his father, who needed to be watched more and moreevery day.
The prince was given the middle room of the three, the firstbeing occupied by one Ferdishenko, while the third was empty.
But Gania first conducted the prince to the family apartments.These consisted of a "salon," which became the dining-room whenrequired; a drawing-room, which was only a drawing-room in themorning, and became Gania's study in the evening, and his bedroomat night; and lastly Nina Alexandrovna's and Varvara's bedroom, asmall, close chamber which they shared together.
In a word, the whole place was confined, and a "tight fit" forthe party. Gania used to grind his teeth with rage over the stateof affairs; though he was anxious to be dutiful and polite to hismother. However, it was very soon apparent to anyone coming intothe house, that Gania was the tyrant of the family.
Nina Alexandrovna and her daughter were both seated in thedrawing-room, engaged in knitting, and talking to a visitor, IvanPetrovitch Ptitsin.
The lady of the house appeared to be a woman of about fifty yearsof age, thin-faced, and with black lines under the eves. Shelooked ill and rather sad; but her face was a pleasant one forall that; and from the first word that fell from her lips, anystranger would at once conclude that she was of a serious andparticularly sincere nature. In spite of her sorrowfulexpression, she gave the idea of possessing considerable firmnessand decision.
Her dress was modest and simple to a degree, dark and elderly instyle; but both her face and appearance gave evidence that shehad seen better days.
Varvara was a girl of some twenty-three summers, of middleheight, thin, but possessing a face which, without being actuallybeautiful, had the rare quality of charm, and might fascinateeven to the extent of passionate regard.
She was very like her mother: she even dressed like her, whichproved that she had no taste for smart clothes. The expression ofher grey eyes was merry and gentle, when it was not, as lately,too full of thought and anxiety. The same decision and firmnesswas to be observed in her face as in her mother's, but herstrength seemed to be more vigorous than that of NinaAlexandrovna. She was subject to outbursts of temper, of whicheven her brother was a little afraid.
The present visitor, Ptitsin, was also afraid of her. This was ayoung fellow of something under thirty, dressed plainly, butneatly. His manners were good, but rather ponderously so. Hisdark beard bore evidence to the fact that he was not in anygovernment employ. He could speak well, but preferred silence. Onthe whole he made a decidedly agreeable impression. He wasclearly attracted by Varvara, and made no secret of his feelings.She trusted him in a friendly way, but had not shown him anydecided encouragement as yet, which fact did not quell his ardourin the least.
Nina Alexandrovna was very fond of him, and had grown quiteconfidential with him of late. Ptitsin, as was well known, wasengaged in the business of lending out money on good security,and at a good rate of interest. He was a great friend of Gania's.
After a formal introduction by Gania (who greeted his mother veryshortly, took no notice of his sister, and immediately marchedPtitsin out of the room), Nina Alexandrovna addressed a few kindwords to the prince and forthwith requested Colia, who had justappeared at the door, to show him to the " middle room."
Colia was a nice-looking boy. His expression was simple andconfiding, and his manners were very polite and engaging.
"Where's your luggage?" he asked, as he led the prince away tohis room.
"I had a bundle; it's in the entrance hall."
"I'll bring it you directly. We only have a cook and one maid, soI have to help as much as I can. Varia looks after things,generally, and loses her temper over it. Gania says you have onlyjust arrived from Switzerland? "
"Yes."
"Is it jolly there?"
"Very."
"Mountains?"
"Yes."
"I'll go and get your bundle."
Here Varvara joined them.
"The maid shall bring your bed-linen directly. Have you aportmanteau?"
"No; a bundle--your brother has just gone to the hall for it."
talk nonsense," said Varia?
"There's nothing there except this," said Colia, returning atthis moment. "Where did you put it?"
"Oh! but that's all I have," said the prince, taking it.
"Ah! I thought perhaps Ferdishenko had taken it."
"Don't talk nonsense," said Varia, severely. She seemed put out,and was only just polite with the prince.
"Oho!" laughed the boy, "you can be nicer than that to ME, youknow--I'm not Ptitsin!"
"You ought to be whipped, Colia, you silly boy. If you wantanything" (to the prince) "please apply to the servant. We dineat half-past four. You can take your dinner with us, or have itin your room, just as you please. Come along, Colia, don'tdisturb the prince."
At the door they met Gania coming in.
"Is father in?" he asked. Colia whispered something in his earand went out.
"Just a couple of words, prince, if you'll excuse me. Don't blabover THERE about what you may see here, or in this house as toall that about Aglaya and me, you know. Things are not altogetherpleasant in this establishment--devil take it all! You'll see. Atall events keep your tongue to yourself for TODAY."
"I assure you I 'blabbed' a great deal less than you seem tosuppose," said the prince, with some annoyance. Clearly therelations between Gania and himself were by no means improving.
"Oh I well; I caught it quite hot enough today, thanks to you.However, I forgive you."
"I think you might fairly remember that I was not in any waybound, I had no reason to be silent about that portrait. Younever asked me not to mention it."
"Pfu! what a wretched room this is--dark, and the window lookinginto the yard. Your coming to our house is, in no respect,opportune. However, it's not MY affair. I don't keep thelodgings."
Ptitsin here looked in and beckoned to Gania, who hastily leftthe room, in spite of the fact that he had evidently wished tosay something more and had only made the remark about the room togain time. The prince had hardly had time to wash and tidyhimself a little when the door opened once more, and anotherfigure appeared.
This was a gentleman of about thirty, tall, broadshouldered, andred-haired; his face was red, too, and he possessed a pair ofthick lips, a wide nose, small eyes, rather bloodshot, and withan ironical expression in them; as though he were perpetuallywinking at someone. His whole appearance gave one the idea ofimpudence; his dress was shabby.
He opened the door just enough to let his head in. His headremained so placed for a few seconds while he quietly scrutinizedthe room; the door then opened enough to admit his body; butstill he did not enter. He stood on the threshold and examinedthe prince carefully. At last he gave the door a final shove,entered, approached the prince, took his hand and seated himselfand the owner of the room on two chairs side by side.
"Ferdishenko," he said, gazing intently and inquiringly into theprince's eyes.
"Very well, what next?" said the latter, almost laughing in hisface.
"A lodger here," continued the other, staring as before.
"Do you wish to make acquaintance?" asked the prince.
"Ah!" said the visitor, passing his fingers through his hair andsighing. He then looked over to the other side of the room andaround it. "Got any money?" he asked, suddenly.
"Not much."
"How much?"
"Twenty-five roubles."
"Let's see it."
The prince took his banknote out and showed it to Ferdishenko.The latter unfolded it and looked at it; then he turned it roundand examined the other side; then he held it up to the light.
"How strange that it should have browned so," he said,reflectively. "These twenty-five rouble notes brown in a mostextraordinary way, while other notes often grow paler. Take it."
The prince took his note. Ferdishenko rose.
"I came here to warn you," he said. "In the first place, don'tlend me any money, for I shall certainly ask you to."
"Very well."
"Shall you pay here?"
"Yes, I intend to."
"Oh! I DON'T intend to. Thanks. I live here, next door to you;you noticed a room, did you? Don't come to me very often; I shallsee you here quite often enough. Have you seen the general?"
"No."
"Nor heard him?"
"No; of course not."
"Well, you'll both hear and see him soon; he even tries to borrowmoney from me. Avis au lecteur. Good-bye; do you think a man canpossibly live with a name like Ferdishenko?"
"Why not?"
"Good-bye."
And so he departed. The prince found out afterwards that thisgentleman made it his business to amaze people with hisoriginality and wit, but that it did not as a rule "come off." Heeven produced a bad impression on some people, which grieved himsorely; but he did not change his ways for all that.
As he went out of the prince's room, he collided with yet anothervisitor coming in. Ferdishenko took the opportunity of makingseveral warning gestures to the prince from behind the newarrival's back, and left the room in conscious pride.
This next arrival was a tall red-faced man of about fifty-five,with greyish hair and whiskers, and large eyes which stood out oftheir sockets. His appearance would have been distinguished hadit not been that he gave the idea of being rather dirty. He wasdressed in an old coat, and he smelled of vodka when he camenear. His walk was effective, and he clearly did his best toappear dignified, and to impress people by his manner.
This gentleman now approached the prince slowly, and with a mostcourteous smile; silently took his hand and held it in his own,as he examined the prince's features as though searching forfamiliar traits therein.
"'Tis he, 'tis he!" he said at last, quietly, but with muchsolemnity. "As though he were alive once more. I heard thefamiliar name-the dear familiar name--and, oh. I how it remindedme of the irrevocable past--Prince Muishkin, I believe ?"
"Exactly so."
"General Ivolgin--retired and unfortunate. May I ask yourChristian and generic names?"
"Lef Nicolaievitch."
"So, so--the son of my old, I may say my childhood's friend,Nicolai Petrovitch."
"My father's name was Nicolai Lvovitch."
"Lvovitch," repeated the general without the slightest haste, andwith perfect confidence, just as though he had not committedhimself the least in the world, but merely made a little slip ofthe tongue. He sat down, and taking the prince's hand, drew himto a seat next to himself.
"I carried you in my arms as a baby," he observed.
"Really?" asked the prince. "Why, it's twenty years since myfather died."
"Yes, yes--twenty years and three months. We were educatedtogether; I went straight into the army, and he--"
"My father went into the army, too. He was a sub-lieutenant inthe Vasiliefsky regiment."
"No, sir--in the Bielomirsky; he changed into the latter shortlybefore his death. I was at his bedside when he died, and gave himmy blessing for eternity. Your mother--" The general paused, asthough overcome with emotion.
"She died a few months later, from a cold," said the prince.
"Oh, not cold--believe an old man--not from a cold, but fromgrief for her prince. Oh--your mother, your mother! heigh-ho!Youth--youth! Your father and I--old friends as we were--nearlymurdered each other for her sake."
The prince began to be a little incredulous.
"I was passionately in love with her when she was engaged--engaged to my friend. The prince noticed the fact and wasfurious. He came and woke me at seven o'clock one morning. I riseand dress in amazement; silence on both sides. I understand itall. He takes a couple of pistols out of his pocket--across ahandkerchief--without witnesses. Why invite witnesses when bothof us would be walking in eternity in a couple of minutes? Thepistols are loaded; we stretch the handkerchief and standopposite one another. We aim the pistols at each other's hearts.Suddenly tears start to our eyes, our hands shake; we weep, weembrace--the battle is one of self-sacrifice now! The princeshouts, 'She is yours;' I cry, 'She is yours--' in a word, in aword--You've come to live with us, hey?"
"Yes--yes--for a while, I think," stammered the prince.
"Prince, mother begs you to come to her," said Colia, appearingat the door.
Yes."wretched room this is--dark, and .
The prince rose to go, but the general once more laid his hand ina friendly manner on his shoulder, and dragged him down on to thesofa.
"As the true friend of your father, I wish to say a few words toyou," he began. "I have suffered--there was a catastrophe. Isuffered without a trial; I had no trial. Nina Alexandrovna mywife, is an excellent woman, so is my daughter Varvara. We haveto let lodgings because we are poor--a dreadful, unheard-of come-down for us--for me, who should have been a governor-general; butwe are very glad to have YOU, at all events. Meanwhile there is atragedy in the house."
The prince looked inquiringly at the other.
"Yes, a marriage is being arranged--a marriage between aquestionable woman and a young fellow who might be a flunkey.They wish to bring this woman into the house where my wife anddaughter reside, but while I live and breathe she shall neverenter my doors. I shall lie at the threshold, and she shalltrample me underfoot if she does. I hardly talk to Gania now, andavoid him as much as I can. I warn you of this beforehand, butyou cannot fail to observe it. But you are the son of my oldfriend, and I hope--"
"Prince, be so kind as to come to me for a moment in the drawing-room," said Nina Alexandrovna herself, appearing at the door.
"Imagine, my dear," cried the general, "it turns out that I havenursed the prince on my knee in the old days." His wife lookedsearchingly at him, and glanced at the prince, but said nothing.The prince rose and followed her; but hardly had they reached thedrawing-room, and Nina Alexandrovna had begun to talk hurriedly,when in came the general. She immediately relapsed into silence.The master of the house may have observed this, but at all eventshe did not take any notice of it; he was in high good humour.
"A son of my old friend, dear," he cried; "surely you mustremember Prince Nicolai Lvovitch? You saw him at--at Tver."
"I don't remember any Nicolai Lvovitch, Was that your father?"she inquired of the prince.
"Yes, but he died at Elizabethgrad, not at Tver," said theprince, rather timidly. "So Pavlicheff told me."
"No, Tver," insisted the general; "he removed just before hisdeath. You were very small and cannot remember; and Pavlicheff,though an excellent fellow, may have made a mistake."
"You knew Pavlicheff then?"
"Oh, yes--a wonderful fellow; but I was present myself. I gavehim my blessing."
"My father was just about to be tried when he died," said theprince, "although I never knew of what he was accused. He died inhospital."
"Oh! it was the Kolpakoff business, and of course he would havebeen acquitted."
"Yes? Do you know that for a fact?" asked the prince, whosecuriosity was aroused by the general's words.
"I should think so indeed!" cried the latter. "The court-martialcame to no decision. It was a mysterious, an impossible business,one might say! Captain Larionoff, commander of the company, haddied; his command was handed over to the prince for the moment.Very well. This soldier, Kolpakoff, stole some leather from oneof his comrades, intending to sell it, and spent the money ondrink. Well! The prince--you understand that what follows tookplace in the presence of the sergeant-major, and a corporal--theprince rated Kolpakoff soundly, and threatened to have himflogged. Well, Kolpakoff went back to the barracks, lay down on acamp bedstead, and in a quarter of an hour was dead: you quiteunderstand? It was, as I said, a strange, almost impossible,affair. In due course Kolpakoff was buried; the prince wrote hisreport, the deceased's name was removed from the roll. All as itshould be, is it not? But exactly three months later at theinspection of the brigade, the man Kolpakoff was found in thethird company of the second battalion of infantry, Novozemlianskidivision, just as if nothing had happened!"
"What?" said the prince, much astonished.
"It did not occur--it's a mistake!" said Nina Alexandrovnaquickly, looking, at the prince rather anxiously. "Mon mari setrompe," she added, speaking in French.
"My dear, 'se trompe' is easily said. Do you remember any case atall like it? Everybody was at their wits' end. I should be thefirst to say 'qu'on se trompe,' but unfortunately I was an eye-witness, and was also on the commission of inquiry. Everythingproved that it was really he, the very same soldier Kolpakoff whohad been given the usual military funeral to the sound of thedrum. It is of course a most curious case--nearly an impossibleone. I recognize that ... but--"
"Father, your dinner is ready," said Varvara at this point,putting her head in at the door.
"Very glad, I'm particularly hungry. Yes, yes, a strangecoincidence--almost a psychological--"