白痴 英文版 The Idiot
陀思妥耶夫斯基 Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The Idiot II.
General Epanchin lived in his own house near the Litaynaya.Besides this large residence--five-sixths of which was let inflats and lodgings-the general was owner of another enormoushouse in the Sadovaya bringing in even more rent than the first.Besides these houses he had a delightful little estate just outof town, and some sort of factory in another part of the city.General Epanchin, as everyone knew, had a good deal to do withcertain government monopolies; he was also a voice, and animportant one, in many rich public companies of variousdescriptions; in fact, he enjoyed the reputation of being a well-to-do man of busy habits, many ties, and affluent means. He hadmade himself indispensable in several quarters, amongst others inhis department of the government; and yet it was a known factthat Fedor Ivanovitch Epanchin was a man of no educationwhatever, and had absolutely risen from the ranks.
This last fact could, of course, reflect nothing but credit uponthe general; and yet, though unquestionably a sagacious man, hehad his own little weaknesses-very excusable ones,--one of whichwas a dislike to any allusion to the above circumstance. He wasundoubtedly clever. For instance, he made a point of neverasserting himself when he would gain more by keeping in thebackground; and in consequence many exalted personages valued himprincipally for his humility and simplicity, and because "he knewhis place." And yet if these good people could only have had apeep into the mind of this excellent fellow who "knew his place"so well! The fact is that, in spite of his knowledge of the worldand his really remarkable abilities, he always liked to appear tobe carrying out other people's ideas rather than his own. Andalso, his luck seldom failed him, even at cards, for which he hada passion that he did not attempt to conceal. He played for highstakes, and moved, altogether, in very varied society.
As to age, General Epanchin was in the very prime of life; thatis, about fifty-five years of age,--the flowering time ofexistence, when real enjoyment of life begins. His healthyappearance, good colour, sound, though discoloured teeth, sturdyfigure, preoccupied air during business hours, and jolly goodhumour during his game at cards in the evening, all bore witnessto his success in life, and combined to make existence a bed ofroses to his excellency. The general was lord of a flourishingfamily, consisting of his wife and three grown-up daughters. Hehad married young, while still a lieutenant, his wife being agirl of about his own age, who possessed neither beauty noreducation, and who brought him no more than fifty souls of landedproperty, which little estate served, however, as a nest-egg forfar more important accumulations. The general never regretted hisearly marriage, or regarded it as a foolish youthful escapade;and he so respected and feared his wife that he was very nearloving her. Mrs. Epanchin came of the princely stock of Muishkin,which if not a brilliant, was, at all events, a decidedly ancientfamily; and she was extremely proud of her descent.
During these last few years all three of the general's daughters-Alexandra, Adelaida, and Aglaya--had grown up and matured. Ofcourse they were only Epanchins, but their mother's family wasnoble; they might expect considerable fortunes; their father hadhopes of attaining to very high rank indeed in his country'sservice-all of which was satisfactory. All three of the girlswere decidedly pretty, even the eldest, Alexandra, who was justtwenty-five years old. The middle daughter was now twenty-three,while the youngest, Aglaya, was twenty. This youngest girl wasabsolutely a beauty, and had begun of late to attractconsiderable attention in society. But this was not all, for everyone of the three was clever, well educated, and accomplished.
It was a matter of general knowledge that the three girls werevery fond of one another, and supported each other in every way;it was even said that the two elder ones had made certainsacrifices for the sake of the idol of the household, Aglaya. Insociety they not only disliked asserting themselves, but wereactually retiring. Certainly no one could blame them for beingtoo arrogant or haughty, and yet everybody was well aware thatthey were proud and quite understood their own value. The eldestwas musical, while the second was a clever artist, which fact shehad concealed until lately. In a word, the world spoke well ofthe girls; but they were not without their enemies, andoccasionally people talked with horror of the number of booksthey had read.
They were in no hurry to marry. They liked good society, but werenot too keen about it. All this was the more remarkable, becauseeveryone was well aware of the hopes and aims of their parents.
It was about eleven o'clock in the forenoon when the prince rangthe bell at General Epanchin's door. The general lived on thefirst floor or flat of the house, as modest a lodging as hisposition permitted. A liveried servant opened the door, and theprince was obliged to enter into long explanations with thisgentleman, who, from the first glance, looked at him and hisbundle with grave suspicion. At last, however, on the repeatedpositive assurance that he really was Prince Muishkin, and mustabsolutely see the general on business, the bewildered domesticshowed him into a little ante-chamber leading to a waiting-roomthat adjoined the general's study, there handing him over toanother servant, whose duty it was to be in this ante-chamberall the morning, and announce visitors to the general. Thissecond individual wore a dress coat, and was some forty years ofage; he was the general's special study servant, and well awareof his own importance.
"Wait in the next room, please; and leave your bundle here," saidthe door-keeper, as he sat down comfortably in his own easy-chairin the ante-chamber. He looked at the prince in severe surpriseas the latter settled himself in another chair alongside, withhis bundle on his knees.
"If you don't mind, I would rather sit here with you," said theprince; "I should prefer it to sitting in there."
"Oh, but you can't stay here. You are a visitor--a guest, so tospeak. Is it the general himself you wish to see?"
The man evidently could not take in the idea of such a shabby-looking visitor, and had decided to ask once more.
"Yes--I have business--" began the prince.
"I do not ask you what your business may be, all I have to do isto announce you; and unless the secretary comes in here I cannotdo that."
The man's suspicions seemed to increase more and more. The princewas too unlike the usual run of daily visitors; and although thegeneral certainly did receive, on business, all sorts andconditions of men, yet in spite of this fact the servant feltgreat doubts on the subject of this particular visitor. Thepresence of the secretary as an intermediary was, he judged,essential in this case.
"Surely you--are from abroad?" he inquired at last, in a confusedsort of way. He had begun his sentence intending to say, "Surelyyou are not Prince Muishkin, are you?"
"Yes, straight from the train! Did not you intend to say, 'Surelyyou are not Prince Muishkin?' just now, but refrained out ofpoliteness ?"
"H'm!" grunted the astonished servant.
"I assure you I am not deceiving you; you shall not have toanswer for me. As to my being dressed like this, and carrying abundle, there's nothing surprising in that--the fact is, mycircumstances are not particularly rosy at this moment."
"H'm!--no, I'm not afraid of that, you see; I have to announceyou, that's all. The secretary will be out directly-that is,unless you--yes, that's the rub--unless you--come, you must allowme to ask you--you've not come to beg, have you?"
"Oh dear no, you can be perfectly easy on that score. I havequite another matter on hand."
"You must excuse my asking, you know. Your appearance led me tothink--but just wait for the secretary; the general is busy now,but the secretary is sure to come out."
"Oh--well, look here, if I have some time to wait, would you mindtelling me, is there any place about where I could have a smoke?I have my pipe and tobacco with me."
"SMOKE?" said the man, in shocked but disdainful surprise,blinking his eyes at the prince as though he could not believehis senses." No, sir, you cannot smoke here, and I wonder youare not ashamed of the very suggestion. Ha, ha! a cool idea that,I declare!"
"Oh, I didn't mean in this room! I know I can't smoke here, ofcourse. I'd adjourn to some other room, wherever you like to showme to. You see, I'm used to smoking a good deal, and now Ihaven't had a puff for three hours; however, just as you like."
"Now how on earth am I to announce a man like that?" muttered theservant. "In the first place, you've no right in here at all; youought to be in the waiting-room, because you're a sort ofvisitor--a guest, in fact--and I shall catch it for this. Lookhere, do you intend to take up you abode with us?" he added,glancing once more at the prince's bundle, which evidently gavehim no peace.
"No, I don't think so. I don't think I should stay even if theywere to invite me. I've simply come to make their acquaintance,and nothing more."
"Make their acquaintance?" asked the man, in amazement, and withredoubled suspicion. "Then why did you say you had business withthe general?"
"Oh well, very little business. There is one little matter--someadvice I am going to ask him for; but my principal object issimply to introduce myself, because I am Prince Muishkin, andMadame Epanchin is the last of her branch of the house, andbesides herself and me there are no other Muishkins left."
"What--you're a relation then, are you?" asked the servant, sobewildered that he began to feel quite alarmed.
"Well, hardly so. If you stretch a point, we are relations, ofcourse, but so distant that one cannot really take cognizance ofit. I once wrote to your mistress from abroad, but she did notreply. However, I have thought it right to make acquaintance withher on my arrival. I am telling you all this in order to easeyour mind, for I see you are still far from comfortable on myaccount. All you have to do is to announce me as Prince Muishkin,and the object of my visit will be plain enough. If I amreceived--very good; if not, well, very good again. But they aresure to receive me, I should think; Madame Epanchin willnaturally be curious to see the only remaining representative ofher family. She values her Muishkin descent very highly, if I amrightly informed."
The prince's conversation was artless and confiding to a degree,and the servant could not help feeling that as from visitor tocommon serving-man this state of things was highly improper. Hisconclusion was that one of two things must be the explanation--either that this was a begging impostor, or that the prince, ifprince he were, was simply a fool, without the slightestambition; for a sensible prince with any ambition would certainlynot wait about in ante-rooms with servants, and talk of his ownprivate affairs like this. In either case, how was he to announcethis singular visitor?
"I really think I must request you to step into the next room!"he said, with all the insistence he could muster.
"Why? If I had been sitting there now, I should not have had theopportunity of making these personal explanations. I see you arestill uneasy about me and keep eyeing my cloak and bundle. Don'tyou think you might go in yourself now, without waiting for thesecretary to come out?"
"No, no! I can't announce a visitor like yourself without thesecretary. Besides the general said he was not to be disturbed--he is with the Colonel C--. Gavrila Ardalionovitch goes inwithout announcing."
"Who may that be? a clerk?"
"What? Gavrila Ardalionovitch? Oh no; he belongs to one of thecompanies. Look here, at all events put your bundle down, here."
"Yes, I will if I may; and--can I take off my cloak"
"Of course; you can't go in THERE with it on, anyhow."
The prince rose and took off his mantle, revealing a neat enoughmorning costume--a little worn, but well made. He wore a steelwatch chain and from this chain there hung a silver Geneva watch.Fool the prince might be, still, the general's servant felt thatit was not correct for him to continue to converse thus with avisitor, in spite of the fact that the prince pleased himsomehow.
"And what time of day does the lady receive?" the latter asked,reseating himself in his old place.
"Oh, that's not in my province! I believe she receives at anytime; it depends upon the visitors. The dressmaker goes in ateleven. Gavrila Ardalionovitch is allowed much earlier than otherpeople, too; he is even admitted to early lunch now and then."
"It is much warmer in the rooms here than it is abroad at thisseason," observed the prince; " but it is much warmer there outof doors. As for the houses--a Russian can't live in them in thewinter until he gets accustomed to them."
"Don't they heat them at all?"
"Well, they do heat them a little; but the houses and stoves areso different to ours."
"H'm! were you long away?"
"Four years! and I was in the same place nearly all the time,--inone village."
"You must have forgotten Russia, hadn't you?"
"Yes, indeed I had--a good deal; and, would you believe it, Ioften wonder at myself for not having forgotten how to speakRussian? Even now, as I talk to you, I keep saying to myself 'howwell I am speaking it.' Perhaps that is partly why I am sotalkative this morning. I assure you, ever since yesterdayevening I have had the strongest desire to go on and on talkingRussian."
"H'm! yes; did you live in Petersburg in former years?"
This good flunkey, in spite of his conscientious scruples, reallycould not resist continuing such a very genteel and agreeableconversation.
"In Petersburg? Oh no! hardly at all, and now they say so muchis changed in the place that even those who did know it well areobliged to relearn what they knew. They talk a good deal aboutthe new law courts, and changes there, don't they?"
"H'm! yes, that's true enough. Well now, how is the law overthere, do they administer it more justly than here?"
"Oh, I don't know about that! I've heard much that is good aboutour legal administration, too. There is no capital punishmenthere for one thing."
"Is there over there?"
"Yes--I saw an execution in France--at Lyons. Schneider took meover with him to see it."
"What, did they hang the fellow?"
"No, they cut off people's heads in France."
"What did the fellow do?--yell?"
"Oh no--it's the work of an instant. They put a man inside aframe and a sort of broad knife falls by machinery -they call thething a guillotine-it falls with fearful force and weight-thehead springs off so quickly that you can't wink your eye inbetween. But all the preparations are so dreadful. When theyannounce the sentence, you know, and prepare the criminal and tiehis hands, and cart him off to the scaffold--that's the fearfulpart of the business. The people all crowd round--even women-though they don't at all approve of women looking on."
yes; did you live in Petersburg in former years?"m! were you.
"No, it's not a thing for women."
"Of course not--of course not!--bah! The criminal was a fineintelligent fearless man; Le Gros was his name; and I may tellyou--believe it or not, as you like--that when that man steppedupon the scaffold he CRIED, he did indeed,--he was as white as abit of paper. Isn't it a dreadful idea that he should have cried--cried! Whoever heard of a grown man crying from fear--not achild, but a man who never had cried before--a grown man offorty-five years. Imagine what must have been going on in thatman's mind at such a moment; what dreadful convulsions his wholespirit must have endured; it is an outrage on the soul that'swhat it is. Because it is said 'thou shalt not kill,' is he to bekilled because he murdered some one else? No, it is not right,it's an impossible theory. I assure you, I saw the sight a monthago and it's dancing before my eyes to this moment. I dream ofit, often."
The prince had grown animated as he spoke, and a tinge of coloursuffused his pale face, though his way of talking was as quiet asever. The servant followed his words with sympathetic interest.Clearly he was not at all anxious to bring the conversation to anend. Who knows? Perhaps he too was a man of imagination and withsome capacity for thought.
said theprince; "I should prefer it to sitting in there."accustomed?
"Well, at all events it is a good thing that there's no pain whenthe poor fellow's head flies off," he remarked.
"Do you know, though," cried the prince warmly, "you made thatremark now, and everyone says the same thing, and the machine isdesigned with the purpose of avoiding pain, this guillotine Imean; but a thought came into my head then: what if it be a badplan after all? You may laugh at my idea, perhaps--but I couldnot help its occurring to me all the same. Now with the rack andtortures and so on--you suffer terrible pain of course; but thenyour torture is bodily pain only (although no doubt you haveplenty of that) until you die. But HERE I should imagine the mostterrible part of the whole punishment is, not the bodily pain atall--but the certain knowledge that in an hour,--then in tenminutes, then in half a minute, then now--this very INSTANT--yoursoul must quit your body and that you will no longer be a man--and that this is certain, CERTAIN! That's the point--thecertainty of it. Just that instant when you place your head onthe block and hear the iron grate over your head--then--thatquarter of a second is the most awful of all.
"This is not my own fantastical opinion--many people have thoughtthe same; but I feel it so deeply that I'll tell you what Ithink. I believe that to execute a man for murder is to punishhim immeasurably more dreadfully than is equivalent to his crime.A murder by sentence is far more dreadful than a murder committedby a criminal. The man who is attacked by robbers at night, in adark wood, or anywhere, undoubtedly hopes and hopes that he mayyet escape until the very moment of his death. There are plentyof instances of a man running away, or imploring for mercy--atall events hoping on in some degree--even after his throat wascut. But in the case of an execution, that last hope--havingwhich it is so immeasurably less dreadful to die,--is taken awayfrom the wretch and CERTAINTY substituted in its place! There ishis sentence, and with it that terrible certainty that he cannotpossibly escape death--which, I consider, must be the mostdreadful anguish in the world. You may place a soldier before acannon's mouth in battle, and fire upon him--and he will stillhope. But read to that same soldier his death-sentence, and hewill either go mad or burst into tears. Who dares to say that anyman can suffer this without going mad? No, no! it is an abuse, ashame, it is unnecessary--why should such a thing exist?Doubtless there may be men who have been sentenced, who havesuffered this mental anguish for a while and then have beenreprieved; perhaps such men may have been able to relate theirfeelings afterwards. Our Lord Christ spoke of this anguish anddread. No! no! no! No man should be treated so, no man, no man!"
The servant, though of course he could not have expressed allthis as the prince did, still clearly entered into it and wasgreatly conciliated, as was evident from the increased amiabilityof his expression. "If you are really very anxious for a smoke,"he remarked, "I think it might possibly be managed, if you arevery quick about it. You see they might come out and inquire foryou, and you wouldn't be on the spot. You see that door there? Goin there and you'll find a little room on the right; you cansmoke there, only open the window, because I ought not to allowit really, and--." But there was no time, after all.
A young fellow entered the ante-room at this moment, with abundle of papers in his hand. The footman hastened to help himtake off his overcoat. The new arrival glanced at the prince outof the corners of his eyes.
"This gentleman declares, Gavrila Ardalionovitch," began the man,confidentially and almost familiarly, "that he is Prince Muishkinand a relative of Madame Epanchin's. He has just arrived fromabroad, with nothing but a bundle by way of luggage--."
The prince did not hear the rest, because at this point theservant continued his communication in a whisper.
Gavrila Ardalionovitch listened attentively, and gazed at theprince with great curiosity. At last he motioned the man asideand stepped hurriedly towards the prince.
"Are you Prince Muishkin?" he asked, with the greatest courtesyand amiability.
himself!"dress coat, and was some forty years ofage; he was the general.
He was a remarkably handsome young fellow of some twenty-eightsummers, fair and of middle height; he wore a small beard, andhis face was most intelligent. Yet his smile, in spite of itssweetness, was a little thin, if I may so call it, and showed histeeth too evenly; his gaze though decidedly good-humoured andingenuous, was a trifle too inquisitive and intent to bealtogether agreeable.
"Probably when he is alone he looks quite different, and hardlysmiles at all!" thought the prince.
He explained about himself in a few words, very much the same ashe had told the footman and Rogojin beforehand.
Gavrila Ardalionovitch meanwhile seemed to be trying to recallsomething.
"Was it not you, then, who sent a letter a year or less ago--fromSwitzerland, I think it was--to Elizabetha Prokofievna (Mrs.Epanchin)?"
"It was."
"Oh, then, of course they will remember who you are. You wish tosee the general? I'll tell him at once--he will be free in aminute; but you--you had better wait in the ante-chamber,--hadn'tyou? Why is he here?" he added, severely, to the man.
please, prince!" recallsomething.
"I tell you, sir, he wished it himself!"
At this moment the study door opened, and a military man, with aportfolio under his arm, came out talking loudly, and afterbidding good-bye to someone inside, took his departure.
"You there, Gania? cried a voice from the study, "come in here,will you?"
Gavrila Ardalionovitch nodded to the prince and entered the roomhastily.
A couple of minutes later the door opened again and the affablevoice of Gania cried:
"Come in please, prince!"