白痴 英文版 The Idiot
陀思妥耶夫斯基 Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The Idiot V. Page 1
Mrs. General Epanchin was a proud woman by nature. What must herfeelings have been when she heard that Prince Muishkin, the lastof his and her line, had arrived in beggar's guise, a wretchedidiot, a recipient of charity--all of which details the generalgave out for greater effect! He was anxious to steal her interestat the first swoop, so as to distract her thoughts from othermatters nearer home.
Mrs. Epanchin was in the habit of holding herself very straight,and staring before her, without speaking, in moments ofexcitement.
She was a fine woman of the same age as her husband, with aslightly hooked nose, a high, narrow forehead, thick hair turninga little grey, and a sallow complexion. Her eyes were grey andwore a very curious expression at times. She believed them to bemost effective--a belief that nothing could alter.
"What, receive him! Now, at once?" asked Mrs. Epanchin, gazingvaguely at her husband as he stood fidgeting before her.
"Oh, dear me, I assure you there is no need to stand on ceremonywith him," the general explained hastily. "He is quite a child,not to say a pathetic-looking creature. He has fits of some sort,and has just arrived from Switzerland, straight from the station,dressed like a German and without a farthing in his pocket. Igave him twenty-five roubles to go on with, and am going to findhim some easy place in one of the government offices. I shouldlike you to ply him well with the victuals, my dears, for Ishould think he must be very hungry."
"You astonish me," said the lady, gazing as before. "Fits, andhungry too! What sort of fits?"
"Oh, they don't come on frequently, besides, he's a regularchild, though he seems to be fairly educated. I should like you,if possible, my dears," the general added, making slowly for thedoor, "to put him through his paces a bit, and see what he isgood for. I think you should be kind to him; it is a good deed,you know--however, just as you like, of course--but he is a sortof relation, remember, and I thought it might interest you to seethe young fellow, seeing that this is so."
"Oh, of course, mamma, if we needn't stand on ceremony with him,we must give the poor fellow something to eat after his journey;especially as he has not the least idea where to go to," saidAlexandra, the eldest of the girls.
"Besides, he's quite a child; we can entertain him with a littlehide-and-seek, in case of need," said Adelaida.
"Hide-and-seek? What do you mean?" inquired Mrs. Epanchin.
"Oh, do stop pretending, mamma," cried Aglaya, in vexation. "Sendhim up, father; mother allows."
The general rang the bell and gave orders that the prince shouldbe shown in.
"Only on condition that he has a napkin under his chin at lunch,then," said Mrs. Epanchin, "and let Fedor, or Mavra, stand behindhim while he eats. Is he quiet when he has these fits? He doesn'tshow violence, does he?"
"On the contrary, he seems to be very well brought up. Hismanners are excellent--but here he is himself. Here you are,prince--let me introduce you, the last of the Muishkins, arelative of your own, my dear, or at least of the same name.Receive him kindly, please. They'll bring in lunch directly,prince; you must stop and have some, but you must excuse me. I'min a hurry, I must be off--"
"We all know where YOU must be off to!" said Mrs. Epanchin, in ameaning voice.
"Yes, yes--I must hurry away, I'm late! Look here, dears, let himwrite you something in your albums; you've no idea what awonderful caligraphist he is, wonderful talent! He has justwritten out 'Abbot Pafnute signed this' for me. Well, au revoir!"
"Stop a minute; where are you off to? Who is this abbot?" criedMrs. Epanchin to her retreating husband in a tone of excitedannoyance.
"Yes, my dear, it was an old abbot of that name-I must be off tosee the count, he's waiting for me, I'm late--Good-bye! Aurevoir, prince!"--and the general bolted at full speed.
"Oh, yes--I know what count you're going to see!" remarked hiswife in a cutting manner, as she turned her angry eyes on theprince. "Now then, what's all this about?--What abbot--Who'sPafnute?" she added, brusquely.
"Mamma!" said Alexandra, shocked at her rudeness.
Aglaya stamped her foot.
"Nonsense! Let me alone!" said the angry mother. "Now then,prince, sit down here, no, nearer, come nearer the light! I wantto have a good look at you. So, now then, who is this abbot?"
"Abbot Pafnute," said our friend, seriously and with deference.
"Pafnute, yes. And who was he?"
Mrs. Epanchin put these questions hastily and brusquely, and whenthe prince answered she nodded her head sagely at each word hesaid.
"The Abbot Pafnute lived in the fourteenth century," began theprince; "he was in charge of one of the monasteries on the Volga,about where our present Kostroma government lies. He went toOreol and helped in the great matters then going on in thereligious world; he signed an edict there, and I have seen aprint of his signature; it struck me, so I copied it. When thegeneral asked me, in his study, to write something for him, toshow my handwriting, I wrote 'The Abbot Pafnute signed this,' inthe exact handwriting of the abbot. The general liked it verymuch, and that's why he recalled it just now. "
"Aglaya, make a note of 'Pafnute,' or we shall forget him. H'm!and where is this signature?"
"I think it was left on the general's table."
"Let it be sent for at once!"
"Oh, I'll write you a new one in half a minute," said the prince,"if you like!"
"Of course, mamma!" said Alexandra. "But let's have lunch now, weare all hungry!"
"Yes; come along, prince," said the mother, "are you veryhungry?"
"Yes; I must say that I am pretty hungry, thanks very much."
"H'm! I like to see that you know your manners; and you are by nomeans such a person as the general thought fit to describe you.Come along; you sit here, opposite to me," she continued, "I wishto be able to see your face. Alexandra, Adelaida, look after theprince! He doesn't seem so very ill, does he? I don't think herequires a napkin under his chin, after all; are you accustomedto having one on, prince?"
"Formerly, when I was seven years old or so. I believe I woreone; but now I usually hold my napkin on my knee when I eat."
"Of course, of course! And about your fits?"
"Fits?" asked the prince, slightly surprised. "I very seldom havefits nowadays. I don't know how it may be here, though; they saythe climate may be bad for me. "
"He talks very well, you know!" said Mrs. Epanchin, who stillcontinued to nod at each word the prince spoke. "I really did notexpect it at all; in fact, I suppose it was all stuff andnonsense on the general's part, as usual. Eat away, prince, andtell me where you were born, and where you were brought up. Iwish to know all about you, you interest me very much!"
The prince expressed his thanks once more, and eating heartilythe while, recommenced the narrative of his life in Switzerland,all of which we have heard before. Mrs. Epanchin became more andmore pleased with her guest; the girls, too, listened withconsiderable attention. In talking over the question ofrelationship it turned out that the prince was very well up inthe matter and knew his pedigree off by heart. It was found thatscarcely any connection existed between himself and Mrs.Epanchin, but the talk, and the opportunity of conversing abouther family tree, gratified the latter exceedingly, and she rosefrom the table in great good humour.
"Let's all go to my boudoir," she said, "and they shall bringsome coffee in there. That's the room where we all assemble andbusy ourselves as we like best," she explained. "Alexandra, myeldest, here, plays the piano, or reads or sews; Adelaida paintslandscapes and portraits (but never finishes any); and Aglayasits and does nothing. I don't work too much, either. Here weare, now; sit down, prince, near the fire and talk to us. I wantto hear you relate something. I wish to make sure of you firstand then tell my old friend, Princess Bielokonski, about you. Iwish you to know all the good people and to interest them. Nowthen, begin!"
"Mamma, it's rather a strange order, that!" said Adelaida, whowas fussing among her paints and paint-brushes at the easel.Aglaya and Alexandra had settled themselves with folded hands ona sofa, evidently meaning to be listeners. The prince felt thatthe general attention was concentrated upon himself.
"I should refuse to say a word if I were ordered to tell a storylike that!" observed Aglaya.
"Why? what's there strange about it? He has a tongue. Whyshouldn't he tell us something? I want to judge whether he is agood story-teller; anything you like, prince-how you likedSwitzerland, what was your first impression, anything. You'llsee, he'll begin directly and tell us all about it beautifully."
"The impression was forcible--" the prince began.
"There, you see, girls," said the impatient lady, "he has begun,you see."
"Well, then, LET him talk, mamma," said Alexandra. "This princeis a great humbug and by no means an idiot," she whispered toAglaya.
"Oh, I saw that at once," replied the latter. "I don't think itat all nice of him to play a part. What does he wish to gain byit, I wonder?"
"My first impression was a very strong one," repeated the prince."When they took me away from Russia, I remember I passed throughmany German towns and looked out of the windows, but did nottrouble so much as to ask questions about them. This was after along series of fits. I always used to fall into a sort of torpidcondition after such a series, and lost my memory almostentirely; and though I was not altogether without reason at suchtimes, yet I had no logical power of thought. This would continuefor three or four days, and then I would recover myself again. Iremember my melancholy was intolerable; I felt inclined to cry; Isat and wondered and wondered uncomfortably; the consciousnessthat everything was strange weighed terribly upon me; I couldunderstand that it was all foreign and strange. I recollect Iawoke from this state for the first time at Basle, one evening;the bray of a donkey aroused me, a donkey in the town market. Isaw the donkey and was extremely pleased with it, and from thatmoment my head seemed to clear."
"A donkey? How strange! Yet it is not strange. Anyone of us mightfall in love with a donkey! It happened in mythological times,"said Madame Epanchin, looking wrathfully at her daughters, whohad begun to laugh. "Go on, prince."
"Since that evening I have been specially fond of donkeys. Ibegan to ask questions about them, for I had never seen onebefore; and I at once came to the conclusion that this must beone of the most useful of animals--strong, willing, patient,cheap; and, thanks to this donkey, I began to like the wholecountry I was travelling through; and my melancholy passed away."
"All this is very strange and interesting," said Mrs. Epanchin."Now let's leave the donkey and go on to other matters. What areyou laughing at, Aglaya? and you too, Adelaida? The prince toldus his experiences very cleverly; he saw the donkey himself, andwhat have you ever seen? YOU have never been abroad."
"I have seen a donkey though, mamma!" said Aglaya.
"And I've heard one!" said Adelaida. All three of the girlslaughed out loud, and the prince laughed with them.
"Well, it's too bad of you," said mamma. "You must forgive them,prince; they are good girls. I am very fond of them, though Ioften have to be scolding them; they are all as silly and mad asmarch hares."
"Oh, why shouldn't they laugh?" said the prince. " I shouldn'thave let the chance go by in their place, I know. But I stick upfor the donkey, all the same; he's a patient, good-naturedfellow."
"Are you a patient man, prince? I ask out of curiosity," saidMrs. Epanchin.
All laughed again.
"Oh, that wretched donkey again, I see!" cried the lady. "Iassure you, prince, I was not guilty of the least--"
"Insinuation? Oh! I assure you, I take your word for it." And theprince continued laughing merrily.
"I must say it's very nice of you to laugh. I see you really area kind-hearted fellow," said Mrs. Epanchin.
"I'm not always kind, though."
"I am kind myself, and ALWAYS kind too, if you please!" sheretorted, unexpectedly; "and that is my chief fault, for oneought not to be always kind. I am often angry with these girlsand their father; but the worst of it is, I am always kindestwhen I am cross. I was very angry just before you came, andAglaya there read me a lesson--thanks, Aglaya, dear--come andkiss me--there--that's enough" she added, as Aglaya came forwardand kissed her lips and then her hand. "Now then, go on, prince.Perhaps you can think of something more exciting than about thedonkey, eh?"
"I must say, again, I can't understand how you can expect anyoneto tell you stories straight away, so," said Adelaida. "I know Inever could!"
"Yes, but the prince can, because he is clever--cleverer than youare by ten or twenty times, if you like. There, that's so,prince; and seriously, let's drop the donkey now--what else didyou see abroad, besides the donkey?"
"Yes, but the prince told us about the donkey very cleverly, allthe same," said Alexandra. "I have always been most interested tohear how people go mad and get well again, and that sort ofthing. Especially when it happens suddenly."
"Quite so, quite so!" cried Mrs. Epanchin, delighted. "I see youCAN be sensible now and then, Alexandra. You were speaking ofSwitzerland, prince?"
"Yes. We came to Lucerne, and I was taken out in a boat. I felthow lovely it was, but the loveliness weighed upon me somehow orother, and made me feel melancholy."
"Why?" asked Alexandra.
"I don't know; I always feel like that when I look at thebeauties of nature for the first time; but then, I was ill atthat time, of course!"
"Oh, but I should like to see it!" said Adelaida; "and I don'tknow WHEN we shall ever go abroad. I've been two years lookingout for a good subject for a picture. I've done all I know. 'TheNorth and South I know by heart,' as our poet observes. Do helpme to a subject, prince."
"Oh, but I know nothing about painting. It seems to me one onlyhas to look, and paint what one sees."
"But I don't know HOW to see!"
"Nonsense, what rubbish you talk!" the mother struck in. "Notknow how to see! Open your eyes and look! If you can't see here,you won't see abroad either. Tell us what you saw yourself,prince!"
"Yes, that's better," said Adelaida; "the prince learned to seeabroad."
"Oh, I hardly know! You see, I only went to restore my health. Idon't know whether I learned to see, exactly. I was very happy,however, nearly all the time."
"Happy! you can be happy?" cried Aglaya. "Then how can you sayyou did not learn to see? I should think you could teach us tosee!"
"Oh! DO teach us," laughed Adelaida.
"Oh! I can't do that," said the prince, laughing too. "I livedalmost all the while in one little Swiss village; what can Iteach you? At first I was only just not absolutely dull; then myhealth began to improve--then every day became dearer and moreprecious to me, and the longer I stayed, the dearer became thetime to me; so much so that I could not help observing it; butwhy this was so, it would be difficult to say."
"So that you didn't care to go away anywhere else?"
"Well, at first I did; I was restless; I didn't know however Ishould manage to support life--you know there are such moments,especially in solitude. There was a waterfall near us, such alovely thin streak of water, like a thread but white and moving.It fell from a great height, but it looked quite low, and it washalf a mile away, though it did not seem fifty paces. I loved tolisten to it at night, but it was then that I became so restless.Sometimes I went and climbed the mountain and stood there in themidst of the tall pines, all alone in the terrible silence, withour little village in the distance, and the sky so blue, and thesun so bright, and an old ruined castle on the mountain-side, faraway. I used to watch the line where earth and sky met, and longedto go and seek there the key of all mysteries, thinking thatI might find there a new life, perhaps some great city where lifeshould be grander and richer--and then it struck me that life maybe grand enough even in a prison."
"I read that last most praiseworthy thought in my manual, when Iwas twelve years old," said Aglaya.
"All this is pure philosophy," said Adelaida. "You are aphilosopher, prince, and have come here to instruct us in yourviews."
"Perhaps you are right," said the prince, smiling. "I think I ama philosopher, perhaps, and who knows, perhaps I do wish to teachmy views of things to those I meet with?"
"Your philosophy is rather like that of an old woman we know, whois rich and yet does nothing but try how little she can spend.She talks of nothing but money all day. Your great philosophicalidea of a grand life in a prison and your four happy years inthat Swiss village are like this, rather," said Aglaya.
"As to life in a prison, of course there may be two opinions,"said the prince. "I once heard the story of a man who livedtwelve years in a prison--I heard it from the man himself. He wasone of the persons under treatment with my professor; he hadfits, and attacks of melancholy, then he would weep, and once hetried to commit suicide. HIS life in prison was sad enough; hisonly acquaintances were spiders and a tree that grew outside hisgrating-but I think I had better tell you of another man I metlast year. There was a very strange feature in this case, strangebecause of its extremely rare occurrence. This man had once beenbrought to the scaffold in company with several others, and hadhad the sentence of death by shooting passed upon him for somepolitical crime. Twenty minutes later he had been reprieved andsome other punishment substituted; but the interval between thetwo sentences, twenty minutes, or at least a quarter of an hour,had been passed in the certainty that within a few minutes hemust die. I was very anxious to hear him speak of his impressionsduring that dreadful time, and I several times inquired of him asto what he thought and felt. He remembered everything with themost accurate and extraordinary distinctness, and declared thathe would never forget a single iota of the experience.
"About twenty paces from the scaffold, where he had stood to hearthe sentence, were three posts, fixed in the ground, to which tofasten the criminals (of whom there were several). The firstthree criminals were taken to the posts, dressed in long whitetunics, with white caps drawn over their faces, so that theycould not see the rifles pointed at them. Then a group ofsoldiers took their stand opposite to each post. My friend wasthe eighth on the list, and therefore he would have been amongthe third lot to go up. A priest went about among them with across: and there was about five minutes of time left for him tolive.
"He said that those five minutes seemed to him to be a mostinterminable period, an enormous wealth of time; he seemed to beliving, in these minutes, so many lives that there was no need asyet to think of that last moment, so that he made severalarrangements, dividing up the time into portions--one for sayingfarewell to his companions, two minutes for that; then a couplemore for thinking over his own life and career and all abouthimself; and another minute for a last look around. He rememberedhaving divided his time like this quite well. While saying good-bye to his friends he recollected asking one of them some veryusual everyday question, and being much interested in the answer.Then having bade farewell, he embarked upon those two minuteswhich he had allotted to looking into himself; he knewbeforehand what he was going to think about. He wished to put itto himself as quickly and clearly as possible, that here was he,a living, thinking man, and that in three minutes he would benobody; or if somebody or something, then what and where? Hethought he would decide this question once for all in these lastthree minutes. A little way off there stood a church, and itsgilded spire glittered in the sun. He remembered staringstubbornly at this spire, and at the rays of light sparkling fromit. He could not tear his eyes from these rays of light; he gotthe idea that these rays were his new nature, and that in threeminutes he would become one of them, amalgamated somehow withthem.