白痴 英文版 The Idiot
陀思妥耶夫斯基 Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The Idiot VII. Page 2
Reaching the steps, Hippolyte had paused, holding the glass inhis left hand while he put his right hand into his coat pocket.
Keller insisted afterwards that he had held his right hand in hispocket all the while, when he was speaking to the prince, andthat he had held the latter's shoulder with his left hand only.This circumstance, Keller affirmed, had led him to feel somesuspicion from the first. However this may be, Keller ran afterHippolyte, 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 veryinstant Hippolyte raised the pistol to his temple and pulled thetrigger. There followed a sharp metallic click, but no report.
When Keller seized the would-be suicide, the latter fell forwardinto his arms, probably actually believing that he was shot.Keller had hold of the pistol now. Hippolyte was immediatelyplaced in a chair, while the whole company thronged aroundexcitedly, talking and asking each other questions. Every one ofthem had heard the snap of the trigger, and yet they saw a liveand apparently unharmed man before them.
Hippolyte himself sat quite unconscious of what was going on, andgazed 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 nowfollowed. The first sensation of alarm soon gave place toamusement; some burst out laughing loud and heartily, and seemedto find a malicious satisfaction in the joke. Poor Hippolytesobbed hysterically; he wrung his hands; he approached everyonein turn--even Ferdishenko--and took them by both hands, and sworesolemnly 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 outand showed them to everyone; he protested that he had not likedto put one in beforehand for fear of an accidental explosion inhis pocket. That he had thought he would have lots of time to putit in afterwards--when required--and, that, in the heat of themoment, he had forgotten all about it. He threw himself upon theprince, then on Evgenie Pavlovitch. He entreated Keller to givehim back the pistol, and he'd soon show them all that "hishonour--his honour,"--but he was "dishonoured, now, for ever!"
He fell senseless at last--and was carried into the prince'sstudy.
Lebedeff, now quite sobered down, sent for a doctor; and he andhis daughter, with Burdovsky and General Ivolgin, remained by thesick man's couch.
When he was carried away unconscious, Keller stood in the middleof the room, and made the following declaration to the company ingeneral, 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 forgottenintentionally, or suggests that this unhappy boy was acting apart before us, I beg to announce that the person so speakingshall account to me for his words."
No one replied.
The company departed very quickly, in a mass. Ptitsin, Gania, andRogojin went away together.
The prince was much astonished that Evgenie Pavlovitch changedhis mind, and took his departure without the conversation he hadrequested.
"Why, you wished to have a talk with me when the others left?" hesaid.
"Quite so," said Evgenie, sitting down suddenly beside him, "butI have changed my mind for the time being. I confess, I am toodisturbed, and so, I think, are you; and the matter as to which Iwished to consult you is too serious to tackle with one's mindeven a little disturbed; too serious both for myself and for you.You see, prince, for once in my life I wish to perform anabsolutely honest action, that is, an action with no ulteriormotive; and I think I am hardly in a condition to talk of it justat this moment, and--and--well, we'll discuss it another time.Perhaps the matter may gain in clearness if we wait for two orthree days--just the two or three days which I must spend inPetersburg."
Here he rose again from his chair, so that it seemed strange thathe should have thought it worth while to sit down at all.
The prince thought, too, that he looked vexed and annoyed, andnot nearly so friendly towards himself as he had been earlier inthe 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 youto pack him off tomorrow."
"I think I may have offended him by saying nothing just now. I amafraid he may suspect that I doubted his good faith,--aboutshooting himself, you know. What do you think, EvgeniePavlovitch?"
"Not a bit of it! You are much too good to him; you shouldn'tcare a hang about what he thinks. I have heard of such thingsbefore, but never came across, till tonight, a man who wouldactually shoot himself in order to gain a vulgar notoriety, orblow out his brains for spite, if he finds that people don't careto pat him on the back for his sanguinary intentions. But whatastonishes me more than anything is the fellow's candidconfession of weakness. You'd better get rid of him tomorrow, inany case.
"Do you think he will make another attempt?"
"Oh no, not he, not now! But you have to be very careful withthis sort of gentleman. Crime is too often the last resource ofthese petty nonentities. This young fellow is quite capable ofcutting the throats of ten people, simply for a lark, as he toldus in his 'explanation.' I assure you those confounded words ofhis will not let me sleep."
"I think you disturb yourself too much."
"What an extraordinary person you are, prince! Do you mean to saythat 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 youdon't get included among the ten victims!"
"Oh, he is much more likely not to kill anyone at all," said theprince, gazing thoughtfully at Evgenie. The latter laugheddisagreeably.
"Well, au revoir! Did you observe that he 'willed' a copy of hisconfession to Aglaya Ivanovna?"
"Yes, I did; I am thinking of it."
"In connection with 'the ten,' eh?" laughed Evgenie, as he leftthe room.
An hour later, towards four o'clock, the prince went into thepark. He had endeavoured to fall asleep, but could not, owing tothe painful beating of his heart.
He had left things quiet and peaceful; the invalid was fastasleep, and the doctor, who had been called in, had stated thatthere was no special danger. Lebedeff, Colia, and Burdovsky werelying 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. Hewandered about the park, looking absently around him, and pausedin astonishment when he suddenly found himself in the empty spacewith the rows of chairs round it, near the Vauxhall. The look ofthe place struck him as dreadful now: so he turned round and wentby the path which he had followed with the Epanchins on the wayto the band, until he reached the green bench which Aglaya hadpointed out for their rendezvous. He sat down on it and suddenlyburst into a loud fit of laughter, immediately followed by afeeling of irritation. His disturbance of mind continued; he feltthat he must go away somewhere, anywhere.
Above his head some little bird sang out, of a sudden; he beganto peer about for it among the leaves. Suddenly the bird dartedout of the tree and away, and instantly he thought of the "flybuzzing about in the sun's rays" that Hippolyte had talked of;how that it knew its place and was a participator in theuniversal life, while he alone was an "outcast." This picture hadimpressed him at the time, and he meditated upon it now. An old,forgotten memory awoke in his brain, and suddenly burst intoclearness and light. It was a recollection of Switzerland, duringthe first year of his cure, the very first months. At that timehe had been pretty nearly an idiot still; he could not speakproperly, and had difficulty in understanding when others spoketo him. He climbed the mountain-side, one sunny morning, andwandered 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 hehad stretched out his arms towards the beautiful, boundless blueof the horizon, and wept, and wept. What had so tormented him wasthe idea that he was a stranger to all this, that he was outsidethis glorious festival.
What was this universe? What was this grand, eternal pageant towhich he had yearned from his childhood up, and in which he couldnever take part? Every morning the same magnificent sun; everymorning the same rainbow in the waterfall; every evening the sameglow on the snow-mountains.
Every little fly that buzzed in the sun's rays was a singer inthe universal chorus, "knew its place, and was happy in it."Every blade of grass grew and was happy. Everything knew itspath and loved it, went forth with a song and returned with asong; only he knew nothing, understood nothing, neither men norwords, nor any of nature's voices; he was a stranger and anoutcast.
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 hemust have said these very words--even then--and that Hippolytemust have taken his picture of the little fly from his tears andwords 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 continuedthrough his slumbers.
Just before he dozed off, the idea of Hippolyte murdering ten menflitted through his brain, and he smiled at the absurdity of sucha thought.
apparently unharmed man before them.
Around him all was quiet; only the flutter and whisper of theleaves broke the silence, but broke it only to cause it to appearyet more deep and still.
He dreamed many dreams as he sat there, and all were full ofdisquiet, so that he shuddered every moment.
At length a woman seemed to approach him. He knew her, oh! heknew her only too well. He could always name her and recognize heranywhere; but, strange, she seemed to have quite a different facefrom hers, as he had known it, and he felt a tormenting desire tobe able to say she was not the same woman. In the face before himthere was such dreadful remorse and horror that he thought shemust be a criminal, that she must have just committed some awfulcrime.
Tears were trembling on her white cheek. She beckoned him, butplaced her finger on her lip as though to warn him that he mustfollow her very quietly. His heart froze within him. He wouldn't,he COULDN'T confess her to be a criminal, and yet he felt thatsomething dreadful would happen the next moment, something whichwould blast his whole life.
She seemed to wish to show him something, not far off, in thepark.
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'shand suddenly in his own, seized it, pressed it hard, and awoke.Before him stood Aglaya, laughing aloud.