白痴 英文版 The Idiot
陀思妥耶夫斯基 Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The Idiot IV. Page 2
"How do you know he is not the question now?" cried Hippolyte,laughing hysterically.
"Another excellent idea, and worth considering!" repliedLebedeff. "But, again, that is not the question. The question atthis 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 thegeneral tendency of which railways may be considered as theoutward expression and symbol. We hurry and push and hustle, forthe good of humanity! 'The world is becoming too noisy, toocommercial!' groans some solitary thinker. 'Undoubtedly it is,but the noise of waggons bearing bread to starving humanity is ofmore value than tranquillity of soul,' replies anothertriumphantly, and passes on with an air of pride. As for me, Idon't believe in these waggons bringing bread to humanity. For,founded on no moral principle, these may well, even in the actof carrying bread to humanity, coldly exclude a considerableportion of humanity from enjoying it; that has been seen morethan once.
"What, these waggons may coldly exclude?" repeated someone.
"That has been seen already," continued Lebedeff, not deigning tonotice the interruption. "Malthus was a friend of humanity, but,with ill-founded moral principles, the friend of humanity is thedevourer of humanity, without mentioning his pride; for, touchthe vanity of one of these numberless philanthropists, and toavenge his self-esteem, he will be ready at once to set fire tothe whole globe; and to tell the truth, we are all more or lesslike that. I, perhaps, might be the first to set a light to thefuel, and then run away. But, again, I must repeat, that is notthe question."
"What is it then, for goodness' sake?"
"He is boring us!"
"The question is connected with the following anecdote of pasttimes; for I am obliged to relate a story. In our times, and inour country, which I hope you love as much as I do, for as far asI 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 faminevisits humanity about four times a century, as far as I canremember; once in every twenty-five years. I won't swear to thisbeing the exact figure, but anyhow they have become comparativelyrare."
"Comparatively to what?"
"To the twelfth century, and those immediately preceding andfollowing it. We are told by historians that widespread faminesoccurred in those days every two or three years, and such was thecondition of things that men actually had recourse tocannibalism, in secret, of course. One of these cannibals, whohad reached a good age, declared of his own free will that duringthe course of his long and miserable life he had personallykilled and eaten, in the most profound secrecy, sixty monks, notto mention several children; the number of the latter he thoughtwas about six, an insignificant total when compared with theenormous 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 oftendiscussing subjects of this nature with him, gentlemen, but forthe most part he talks nonsense enough to make one deaf: thisstory has no pretence of being true."
"General, remember the siege of Kars! And you, gentlemen, Iassure you my anecdote is the naked truth. I may remark thatreality, although it is governed by invariable law, has at timesa resemblance to falsehood. In fact, the truer a thing is theless true it sounds."
"But could anyone possibly eat sixty monks?" objected thescoffing listeners.
"It is quite clear that he did not eat them all at once, but in aspace of fifteen or twenty years: from that point of view thething is comprehensible and natural..."
"Natural?"
"And natural," repeated Lebedeff with pedantic obstinacy."Besides, a Catholic monk is by nature excessively curious; itwould be quite easy therefore to entice him into a wood, or somesecret place, on false pretences, and there to deal with him assaid. But I do not dispute in the least that the number ofpersons consumed appears to denote a spice of greediness."
"It is perhaps true, gentlemen," said the prince, quietly. He hadbeen listening in silence up to that moment without taking partin the conversation, but laughing heartily with the others fromtime to time. Evidently he was delighted to see that everybodywas amused, that everybody was talking at once, and even thateverybody was drinking. It seemed as if he were not intending tospeak at all, when suddenly he intervened in such a seriousvoice 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 muchhistory. But it seems to me that it must have been so. When I wasin Switzerland I used to look with astonishment at the many ruinsof feudal castles perched on the top of steep and rocky heights,half a mile at least above sea-level, so that to reach them onehad to climb many miles of stony tracks. A castle, as you know,is, a kind of mountain of stones--a dreadful, almost animpossible, labour! Doubtless the builders were all poor men,vassals, and had to pay heavy taxes, and to keep up thepriesthood. How, then, could they provide for themselves, andwhen had they time to plough and sow their fields? The greaternumber must, literally, have died of starvation. I have sometimesasked myself how it was that these communities were not utterlyswept off the face of the earth, and how they could possiblysurvive. Lebedeff is not mistaken, in my opinion, when he saysthat there were cannibals in those days, perhaps in considerablenumbers; but I do not understand why he should have dragged inthe monks, nor what he means by that."
"It is undoubtedly because, in the twelfth century, monks werethe only people one could eat; they were the fat, among manylean," said Gavrila Ardalionovitch.
"A brilliant idea, and most true!" cried Lebedeff, "for he nevereven touched the laity. Sixty monks, and not a single layman! Itis a terrible idea, but it is historic, it is statistic; it isindeed one of those facts which enables an intelligent historianto reconstruct the physiognomy of a special epoch, for it bringsout this further point with mathematical accuracy, that theclergy were in those days sixty times richer and more flourishingthan the rest of humanity. and perhaps sixty times fatteralso..."
"You are exaggerating, you are exaggerating, Lebedeff!" cried hishearers, amid laughter.
"I admit that it is an historic thought, but what is yourconclusion?" asked the prince.
He spoke so seriously in addressing Lebedeff, that his tonecontrasted quite comically with that of the others. They werevery nearly laughing at him, too, but he did not notice it.
"Don't you see he is a lunatic, prince?" whispered EvgeniePavlovitch in his ear. "Someone told me just now that he is a bittouched on the subject of lawyers, that he has a mania for makingspeeches and intends to pass the examinations. I am expecting asplendid burlesque now."
"My conclusion is vast," replied Lebedeff, in a voice likethunder. "Let us examine first the psychological and legalposition of the criminal. We see that in spite of the difficultyof 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. Incontrovertiblefacts prove this assertion. He has eaten five or six children, arelatively insignificant number, no doubt, but remarkable enoughfrom another point of view. It is manifest that, pricked byremorse--for my client is religious, in his way, and has aconscience, as I shall prove later--and desiring to extenuate hissin as far as possible, he has tried six times at least tosubstitute lay nourishment for clerical. That this was merely anexperiment we can hardly doubt: for if it had been only aquestion of gastronomic variety, six would have been too few; whyonly six? Why not thirty? But if we regard it as an experiment,inspired by the fear of committing new sacrilege, then thisnumber six becomes intelligible. Six attempts to calm hisremorse, and the pricking of his conscience, would amply suffice,for these attempts could scarcely have been happy ones. In myhumble opinion, a child is too small; I should say, notsufficient; which would result in four or five times more laychildren than monks being required in a given time. The sin,lessened on the one hand, would therefore be increased on theother, in quantity, not in quality. Please understand, gentlemen,that in reasoning thus, I am taking the point of view which mighthave been taken by a criminal of the middle ages. As for myself,a man of the late nineteenth century, I, of course, should reasondifferently; I say so plainly, and therefore you need not jeer atme nor mock me, gentlemen. As for you, general, it is still moreunbecoming on your part. In the second place, and giving my ownpersonal opinion, a child's flesh is not a satisfying diet; it istoo insipid, too sweet; and the criminal, in making theseexperiments, could have satisfied neither his conscience nor hisappetite. I am about to conclude, gentlemen; and my conclusioncontains a reply to one of the most important questions of thatday and of our own! This criminal ended at last by denouncinghimself to the clergy, and giving himself up to justice. Wecannot but ask, remembering the penal system of that day, and thetortures that awaited him--the wheel, the stake, the fire!--wecannot but ask, I repeat, what induced him to accuse himself ofthis crime? Why did he not simply stop short at the number sixty,and keep his secret until his last breath? Why could he notsimply leave the monks alone, and go into the desert to repent?Or why not become a monk himself? That is where the puzzle comesin! There must have been something stronger than the stake or thefire, or even than the habits of twenty years! There must havebeen an idea more powerful than all the calamities and sorrows ofthis world, famine or torture, leprosy or plague--an idea whichentered into the heart, directed and enlarged the springs oflife, and made even that hell supportable to humanity! Show me aforce, a power like that, in this our century of vices andrailways! I might say, perhaps, in our century of steamboats andrailways, but I repeat in our century of vices and railways,because I am drunk but truthful! Show me a single idea whichunites men nowadays with half the strength that it had in thosecenturies, and dare to maintain that the 'springs of life' havenot been polluted and weakened beneath this 'star,' beneath thisnetwork in which men are entangled! Don't talk to me about yourprosperity, your riches, the rarity of famine, the rapidity ofthe means of transport! There is more of riches, but less offorce. The idea uniting heart and soul to heart and soul existsno more. All is loose, soft, limp--we are all of us limp....Enough, gentlemen! I have done. That is not the question. No, thequestion is now, excellency, I believe, to sit down to thebanquet you are about to provide for us!"
Lebedeff had roused great indignation in some of his auditors (itshould be remarked that the bottles were constantly uncorkedduring his speech); but this unexpected conclusion calmed eventhe most turbulent spirits. "That's how a clever barrister makesa good point!" said he, when speaking of his peroration later on.The visitors began to laugh and chatter once again; the committeeleft their seats, and stretched their legs on the terrace. Kelleralone was still disgusted with Lebedeff and his speech; he turnedfrom one to another, saying in a loud voice:
"He attacks education, he boasts of the fanaticism of the twelfthcentury, he makes absurd grimaces, and added to that he is by nomeans the innocent he makes himself out to be. How did he get themoney to buy this house, allow me to ask?"
In another corner was the general, holding forth to a group ofhearers, among them Ptitsin, whom he had buttonholed. "I haveknown," said he, "a real interpreter of the Apocalypse, the lateGregory Semeonovitch Burmistroff, and he--he pierced the heartlike a fiery flash! He began by putting on his spectacles, thenhe opened a large black book; his white beard, and his two medalson his breast, recalling acts of charity, all added to hisimpressiveness. He began in a stern voice, and before himgenerals, hard men of the world, bowed down, and ladies fell tothe ground fainting. But this one here--he ends by announcing abanquet! 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 theothers had risen from the table, Gania had suddenly left offdrinking, and pushed away his glass, a dark shadow seemed to comeover his face. When they all rose, he went and sat down byRogojin. It might have been believed that quite friendlyrelations existed between them. Rogojin, who had also seemed onthe 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 raisedhis eyes, and examined everyone present; one might have imaginedthat he was expecting something very important to himself, andthat he had decided to wait for it. The prince had taken two orthree glasses of champagne, and seemed cheerful. As he rose henoticed Evgenie Pavlovitch, and, remembering the appointment hehad made with him, smiled pleasantly. Evgenie Pavlovitch made asign with his head towards Hippolyte, whom he was attentivelywatching. The invalid was fast asleep, stretched out on the sofa.
him; and therefore it is all the more surprisingthat I cannot tear my eyes and thoughts.
"Tell me, prince, why on earth did this boy intrude himself uponyou?" he asked, with such annoyance and irritation in his voicethat the prince was quite surprised. "I wouldn't mind laying oddsthat he is up to some mischief."
"I have observed," said the prince, "that he seems to be anobject of very singular interest to you, Evgenie Pavlovitch. Whyis it?"
"You may add that I have surely enough to think of, on my ownaccount, without him; and therefore it is all the more surprisingthat I cannot tear my eyes and thoughts away from his detestablephysiognomy."
"Oh, come! He has a handsome face."
to buy this house, allow me to ask?" asked the prince.stones--a dreadful.
"Why, look at him--look at him now!"
The prince glanced again at Evgenie Pavlovitch with considerablesurprise.