白痴 英文版 The Idiot
陀思妥耶夫斯基 Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The Idiot VI. Page 2
Arrived home again, the prince sent for Vera Lebedeff and toldher as much as was necessary, in order to relieve her mind, forshe had been in a dreadful state of anxiety since she had missedthe letter. She heard with horror that her father had taken it.Muishkin learned from her that she had on several occasionsperformed secret missions both for Aglaya and for Rogojin,without, however, having had the slightest idea that in so doingshe might injure the prince in any way.
The latter, with one thing and another, was now so disturbed andconfused, that when, a couple of hours or so later, a messagecame from Colia that the general was ill, he could hardly takethe news in.
However, when he did master the fact, it acted upon him as atonic by completely distracting his attention. He went at once toNina Alexandrovna's, whither the general had been carried, andstayed there until the evening. He could do no good, but thereare people whom to have near one is a blessing at such times.Colia was in an almost hysterical state; he cried continuously,but was running about all day, all the same; fetching doctors, ofwhom he collected three; going to the chemist's, and so on.
The general was brought round to some extent, but the doctorsdeclared that he could not be said to be out of danger. Varia andNina Alexandrovna never left the sick man's bedside; Gania wasexcited and distressed, but would not go upstairs, and seemedafraid to look at the patient. He wrung his hands when the princespoke to him, and said that "such a misfortune at such a moment"was terrible.
The prince thought he knew what Gania meant by "such a moment."
Hippolyte was not in the house. Lebedeff turned up late in theafternoon; he had been asleep ever since his interview with theprince in the morning. He was quite sober now, and cried withreal sincerity over the sick general--mourning for him as thoughhe were his own brother. He blamed himself aloud, but did notexplain why. He repeated over and over again to Nina Alexandrovnathat he alone was to blame--no one else--but that he had actedout of "pure amiable curiosity," and that "the deceased," as heinsisted upon calling the still living general, had been thegreatest of geniuses.
He laid much stress on the genius of the sufferer, as if thisidea must be one of immense solace in the present crisis.
Nina Alexandrovna--seeing his sincerity of feeling--said at last,and without the faintest suspicion of reproach in her voice:"Come, come--don't cry! God will forgive you!"
Lebedeff was so impressed by these words, and the tone in whichthey were spoken, that he could not leave Nina Alexandrovna allthe evening--in fact, for several days. Till the general's death,indeed, he spent almost all his time at his side.
Twice during the day a messenger came to Nina Alexandrovna fromthe Epanchins to inquire after the invalid.
When--late in the evening--the prince made his appearance inLizabetha Prokofievna's drawing-room, he found it full of guests.Mrs. Epanchin questioned him very fully about the general as soonas he appeared; and when old Princess Bielokonski wished to know"who this general was, and who was Nina Alexandrovna," sheproceeded to explain in a manner which pleased the prince verymuch.
He himself, when relating the circumstances of the general'sillness to Lizabetha Prokofievna, "spoke beautifully," asAglaya's sisters declared afterwards--"modestly, quietly, withoutgestures or too many words, and with great dignity." He hadentered the room with propriety and grace, and he was perfectlydressed; he not only did not "fall down on the slippery floor,"as he had expressed it, but evidently made a very favourableimpression upon the assembled guests.
This was the first time in his life that he had seen a littlecorner of what was generally known by the terrible name of"society." He had long thirsted, for reasons of his own, topenetrate the mysteries of the magic circle, and, therefore, thisassemblage was of the greatest possible interest to him.
His first impression was one of fascination. Somehow or other hefelt that all these people must have been born on purpose to betogether! It seemed to him that the Epanchins were not having aparty at all; that these people must have been here always, andthat he himself was one of them--returned among them after a longabsence, but one of them, naturally and indisputably.
It never struck him that all this refined simplicity and nobilityand wit and personal dignity might possibly be no more than anexquisite artistic polish. The majority of the guests--who weresomewhat empty-headed, after all, in spite of their aristocraticbearing--never guessed, in their self-satisfied composure, thatmuch of their superiority was mere veneer, which indeed they hadadopted unconsciously and by inheritance.
The prince would never so much as suspect such a thing in thedelight of his first impression.
He saw, for instance, that one important dignitary, old enough tobe his grandfather, broke off his own conversation in order tolisten to HIM--a young and inexperienced man; and not onlylistened, but seemed to attach value to his opinion, and was kindand amiable, and yet they were strangers and had never seen eachother before. Perhaps what most appealed to the prince'simpressionability was the refinement of the old man's courtesytowards him. Perhaps the soil of his susceptible nature wasreally predisposed to receive a pleasant impression.
Meanwhile all these people-though friends of the family and ofeach other to a certain extent--were very far from being suchintimate friends of the family and of each other as the princeconcluded. There were some present who never would think ofconsidering the Epanchins their equals. There were even some whohated one another cordially. For instance, old PrincessBielokonski had all her life despised the wife of the"dignitary," while the latter was very far from loving LizabethaProkofievna. The dignitary himself had been General Epanchin'sprotector from his youth up; and the general considered him somajestic a personage that he would have felt a hearty contemptfor himself if he had even for one moment allowed himself to poseas the great man's equal, or to think of him--in his fear andreverence-as anything less than an Olympic God! There were otherspresent who had not met for years, and who had no feelingwhatever for each other, unless it were dislike; and yet they mettonight as though they had seen each other but yesterday in somefriendly and intimate assembly of kindred spirits.
It was not a large party, however. Besides Princess Bielokonskiand the old dignitary (who was really a great man) and his wife,there was an old military general--a count or baron with a Germanname, a man reputed to possess great knowledge and administrativeability. He was one of those Olympian administrators who knoweverything except Russia, pronounce a word of extraordinarywisdom, admired by all, about once in five years, and, afterbeing an eternity in the service, generally die full of honourand riches, though they have never done anything great, and haveeven been hostile to all greatness. This general was IvanFedorovitch's immediate superior in the service; and it pleasedthe latter to look upon him also as a patron. On the other hand,the great man did not at all consider himself Epanchin's patron.He was always very cool to him, while taking advantage of hisready services, and would instantly have put another in his placeif there had been the slightest reason for the change.
Another guest was an elderly, important-looking gentleman, adistant relative of Lizabetha Prokofievna's. This gentleman wasrich, held a good position, was a great talker, and had thereputation of being "one of the dissatisfied," though notbelonging to the dangerous sections of that class. He had themanners, to some extent, of the English aristocracy, and some oftheir tastes (especially in the matter of under-done roast beef,harness, men-servants, etc.). He was a great friend of thedignitary's, and Lizabetha Prokofievna, for some reason or other,had got hold of the idea that this worthy intended at no distantdate to offer the advantages of his hand and heart to Alexandra.
Besides the elevated and more solid individuals enumerated, therewere present a few younger though not less elegant guests.Besides Prince S. and Evgenie Pavlovitch, we must name theeminent and fascinating Prince N.--once the vanquisher of femalehearts all over Europe. This gentleman was no longer in the firstbloom of youth--he was forty-five, but still very handsome. Hewas well off, and lived, as a rule, abroad, and was noted as agood teller of stories. Then came a few guests belonging to alower stratum of society--people who, like the Epanchinsthemselves, moved only occasionally in this exalted sphere. TheEpanchins liked to draft among their more elevated guests a fewpicked representatives of this lower stratum, and LizabethaProkofievna received much praise for this practice, which proved,her friends said, that she was a woman of tact. The Epanchinsprided themselves upon the good opinion people held of them.
One of the representatives of the middle-class present today wasa colonel of engineers, a very serious man and a great friend ofPrince S., who had introduced him to the Epanchins. He wasextremely silent in society, and displayed on the forefinger ofhis right hand a large ring, probably bestowed upon him forservices of some sort. There was also a poet, German by name, buta Russian poet; very presentable, and even handsome-the sort ofman one could bring into society with impunity. This gentlemanbelonged to a German family of decidedly bourgeois origin, but hehad a knack of acquiring the patronage of "big-wigs," and ofretaining their favour. He had translated some great German poeminto Russian verse, and claimed to have been a friend of a famousRussian poet, since dead. (It is strange how great a multitude ofliterary people there are who have had the advantages offriendship with some great man of their own profession who is,unfortunately, dead.) The dignitary's wife had introduced thisworthy to the Epanchins. This lady posed as the patroness ofliterary people, and she certainly had succeeded in obtainingpensions for a few of them, thanks to her influence with those inauthority on such matters. She was a lady of weight in her ownway. Her age was about forty-five, so that she was a very youngwife for such an elderly husband as the dignitary. She had been abeauty in her day and still loved, as many ladies of forty-fivedo love, to dress a little too smartly. Her intellect was nothingto boast of, and her literary knowledge very doubtful. Literarypatronage was, however, with her as much a mania as was the loveof gorgeous clothes. Many books and translations were dedicatedto her by her proteges, and a few of these talented individualshad published some of their own letters to her, upon very weightysubjects.
This, then, was the society that the prince accepted at once astrue coin, as pure gold without alloy.
It so happened, however, that on this particular evening allthese good people were in excellent humour and highly pleasedwith themselves. Every one of them felt that they were doing theEpanchins the greatest possible honour by their presence. Butalas! the prince never suspected any such subtleties! Forinstance, he had no suspicion of the fact that the Epanchins,having in their mind so important a step as the marriage of theirdaughter, would never think of presuming to take it withouthaving previously "shown off" the proposed husband to thedignitary--the recognized patron of the family. The latter, too,though he would probably have received news of a great disasterto the Epanchin family with perfect composure, would neverthelesshave considered it a personal offence if they had dared to marrytheir daughter without his advice, or we might almost say, hisleave.
The amiable and undoubtedly witty Prince N. could not but feelthat he was as a sun, risen for one night only to shine upon theEpanchin drawing-room. He accounted them immeasurably hisinferiors, and it was this feeling which caused his specialamiability and delightful ease and grace towards them. He knewvery well that he must tell some story this evening for theedification of the company, and led up to it with the inspirationof anticipatory triumph.
The prince, when he heard the story afterwards, felt that he hadnever yet come across so wonderful a humorist, or such remarkablebrilliancy as was shown by this man; and yet if he had only knownit, this story was the oldest, stalest, and most worn-out yarn,and every drawing-room in town was sick to death of it. It wasonly in the innocent Epanchin household that it passed for a newand brilliant tale--as a sudden and striking reminiscence of asplendid and talented man.
Even the German poet, though as amiable as possible, felt that hewas doing the house the greatest of honours by his presence init.
But the prince only looked at the bright side; he did not turnthe coat and see the shabby lining.
Aglaya had not foreseen that particular calamity. She herselflooked wonderfully beautiful this evening. All three sisters weredressed very tastefully, and their hair was done with specialcare.
Aglaya sat next to Evgenie Pavlovitch, and laughed and talked tohim with an unusual display of friendliness. Evgenie himselfbehaved rather more sedately than usual, probably out of respectto the dignitary. Evgenie had been known in society for a longwhile. He had appeared at the Epanchins' today with crape on hishat, and Princess Bielokonski had commended this action on hispart. Not every society man would have worn crape for "such anuncle." Lizabetha Prokofievna had liked it also, but was toopreoccupied to take much notice. The prince remarked that Aglayalooked attentively at him two or three times, and seemed to besatisfied with his behaviour.
Little by little he became very happy indeed. All his lateanxieties and apprehensions (after his conversation withLebedeff) now appeared like so many bad dreams--impossible, andeven laughable.
He did not speak much, only answering such questions as were putto him, and gradually settled down into unbroken silence,listening to what went on, and steeped in perfect satisfactionand contentment.
Little by little a sort of inspiration, however, began to stirwithin him, ready to spring into life at the right moment. Whenhe did begin to speak, it was accidentally, in response to aquestion, and apparently without any special object.