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"Grigory Litvinov, a brick, a true Russian heart. I commend him to you, " cried Bambaev, conducting Litvinov up to a short man of the figure of a country gentleman, with an unbuttoned collar, in a short jacket, gray morning trousers and slippers, standing in the middle of a light, and very well—furnished room; "and this, " he added, addressing himself to Litvinov, "is he, the man himself, do you understand? Gubaryov, then, in a word. " Litvinov stared with curiosity at "the man himself. " He did not at first sight find in him anything out of the common. He saw before him a gentleman of respectable, somewhat dull exterior, with a broad forehead, large eyes, full lips, a big beard, and a thick neck, with a fixed gaze, bent sidelong and downwards. This gentleman simpered, and said, "Mmm... ah... very pleased,... " raised his hand to his own face, and at once turning his back on Litvinov, took a few paces upon the carpet, with a slow and peculiar shuffle, as though he were trying to slink along unseen. Gubaryov had the habit of continually walking up and down, and constantly plucking and combing his beard with the tips of his long hard nails. Besides Gubaryov, there was also in the room a lady of about fifty, in a shabby silk dress, with an excessively mobile face almost as yellow as a lemon, a little black moustache on her upper lip, and eyes which moved so quickly that they seemed as though they were jumping out of her head; there was too a broad—shouldered man sitting bent up in a corner.
“这位是格里高利? 李特维诺夫，一位心肠好的、真正的俄国小伙子。我把他介绍给您。” 庞巴耶夫叫道，把李特维诺夫带到一位身材矮小的乡绅面前。那位乡绅的衣领敞着，身着一件短上衣和一条灰色睡裤，穿着一双拖鞋，站在明亮的、家具齐全的房间中央。 “而这位，” 庞巴耶夫又向李特维诺夫补充道， “这就是他本人，知道吗？简言之，这位就是古巴廖夫。” 李特维诺夫好奇地盯着 “他本人” 。乍一看，李特维诺夫并未发现这人有什么特别之处。他看到的是一位受人尊敬的绅士，但他外表有点儿迟钝，宽额头、大眼睛、厚唇、大胡须和粗脖子，眼睛一动不动地向下斜视着。这位绅士傻笑着说： “嗯……啊……很高兴……” 他用手拖着腮帮子，然后立刻背对着李特维诺夫，在地毯上缓慢而怪异地拖着脚走了几步，像是想要偷偷地逃走。古巴廖夫习惯不停地来回踱步，并用他那又长又硬的指甲尖不停地捋捋拽拽胡须。除了古巴廖夫，房间里还有一位五十岁左右、穿着破旧的丝质长裙的女士。她的脸像柠檬一样蜡黄，但表情极其丰富，上唇之上长着一层黑黑的汗毛，眼睛转动得很快，像要从头上蹦出来似的。角落里还蹲坐着一位肩膀很宽的男人。
"Well, honored Matrona Semyonovna, " began Gubaryov, turning to the lady, and apparently not considering it necessary to introduce Litvinov to her, "what was it you were beginning to tell us? "
“嗯，尊敬的玛特辽娜? 谢苗诺夫娜，” 古巴廖夫对那位女士说，显然认为没有必要把李特维诺夫介绍给她， “您刚才跟我们说什么来着？”
The lady (her name was Matrona Semyonovna Suhantchikov—she was a widow, childless, and not rich, and had been traveling from country to country for two years past) began with peculiar exasperated vehemence:
那位女士（她叫玛特辽娜? 谢苗诺夫娜? 苏汉契科娃，是个寡妇，没有孩子，并不富裕，这两年来一直周游各国）便开始异常兴高采烈地说：
"Well, so he appears before the prince and says to him: 'Your Excellency, ' he says, 'in such an office and such a position as yours, what will it cost you to alleviate my lot? ' You, 'he says, ' cannot but respect the purity of my ideas! And is it possible, 'he says, ' in these days to persecute a man for his ideas? 'And what do you suppose the prince did, that cultivated dignitary in that exalted position? " Why, what did he do? observed Gubaryov, lighting a cigarette with a meditative air.
“于是，他去见亲王并对亲王说： ‘阁下，您高高在上，身居要职，改善我的命运岂不是轻而易举的事？ ‘您，’ 他说， ‘得尊敬我纯洁的思想！现在，难道能仅仅因为一个人的思想就迫害他？’ 你们猜这位地位高贵的且有教养的亲王是怎么做的？” “啊，他怎么做的？” 古巴廖夫若有所思地点了根香烟，问道。
The lady drew herself up and held out her bony right hand, with the first finger separated from the rest.
那位女士挺直腰板，伸出她那骨瘦如柴的右手，翘起大拇指。
"He called his groom and said to him, 'Take off that man's coat at once, and keep it yourself. I make you a present of that coat!’”
“他叫来他的男仆并对他说： ‘马上把那个人的衣服脱下来，归您了。我把那件衣服赏给您了！’”
"And did the groom take it? " asked Bambaev, throwing up his arms.
“那个仆人真的把衣服拿走了吗？” 庞巴耶夫扬起双手问道。
"He took it and kept it. And that was done by Prince Barnaulov, the well—known rich grandee, invested with special powers, the representative of the government. What is one to expect after that!”
“拿了并且把它占为己有。这就是巴尔纳乌洛夫亲王干的事。他是位有钱的显贵，拥有特权，还是政府代表。他就这样，我们还有什么好指望的呢！”
The whole frail person of Madame Suhantchikov was shaking with indignation, spasms passed over her face, her withered bosom was heaving convulsively under her flat corset; of her eyes it is needless to speak, they were fairly leaping out of her head. But then they were always leaping, whatever she might be talking about.
虚弱的苏汉契科娃女士气得全身发抖，脸上的肌肉一阵痉挛，松弛的胸部在扁平的紧身胸衣下剧烈地起伏，更别说她的双眼了，简直要从她的头上跳出来了。不过不管她说什么，它们总是像要跳出来似的。
"A crying shame, a crying shame! " cried Bambaev. "No punishment could be bad enough! "
“太可耻了，太可耻了！” 庞巴耶夫叫道， “没有比这更坏的惩罚了！”
"Mmm…Mmm... From top to bottom it's all rotten, " observed Gubaryov, without raising his voice, however. "In that case punishment is not... that needs... other measures. "
“嗯……嗯……这个人全身上下都坏透了。” 古巴廖夫说道，但他并没有提高声调。 “在那种情况下，惩罚并不能解决问题……需要……用其他的方法。”
"But is it really true? " commented Litvinov.
“但这是真的吗？” 李特维诺夫问道。
"Is it true? " broke in Madame Suhantchikov. "Why, that one can't even dream of doubting... can't even d—d—d—ream of it. " She pronounced these words with such energy that she was fairly shaking with the effort. "I was told of that by a very trustworthy man. And you, Stepan Nikolaitch, know him—Elistratov, Kapiton. He heard it himself from eyewitnesses, spectators of this disgraceful scene. "
“是真的吗？” 苏汉契科娃插话道， “哎呀，那是做梦都毋庸质疑的……连做——做——做梦都想不到。” 她如此掷地有声地说出这些话，以至于浑身简直在发抖。 “是一个非常可靠的人告诉我的。斯捷潘? 尼古拉耶维奇，您认识他的——叶里斯特拉托夫? 卡比东。他是听一些目击者说的，他们目睹了这可耻的一幕。”
"What Elistratov? " inquired Gubaryov. "The one who was in Kazan? "
“哪个叶里斯特拉托夫？” 古巴廖夫问， “就是那个去过喀山的人吗？”
"Yes. I know, Stepan Nikolaitch, a rumor was spread about him that he took bribes there from some contractors or distillers. But then who is it says so? Pelikanov! And how can one believe Pelikanov when every one knows he is simply—a spy!”
“是的。我知道斯捷潘? 尼古拉耶维奇，有一些关于他的谣言，说他从一些承包商和酿酒商那里收受了贿赂。不过是谁说的呢？别里康诺夫！但既然所有的人都知道他只是一个间谍，我们又怎能相信他呢！”
"No, with your permission, Matrona Semyonovna, " interposed Bambaev, "I am friends with Pelikanov, he is not a spy at all. "
“不，请允许我说，玛特辽娜? 谢苗诺夫娜，” 庞巴耶夫插话说， “别里康诺夫是我的朋友，他根本不是什么间谍。”
"Yes, yes, that's just what he is, a spy!”
“是的，是的，他就是个间谍！”
"But wait a minute, kindly—"
“但是等等，请您耐心等会儿——”
"A spy, a spy! " shrieked Madame Suhantchikov.
“间谍，间谍！” 苏汉契科娃尖叫道。
"No, no, one minute, I tell you what, " shrieked Bambaev in his turn.
“不，不，听我说。” 这次轮到庞巴耶夫尖叫了。
"A spy, a spy, " persisted Madame Suhantchikov.
“间谍！间谍！” 苏汉契科娃坚称。
"No, no! There's Tentelyev now, that's a different matter, " roared Bambaev with all the force of his lungs.
“不，不是这样的！现在是田捷列耶夫了，那是另一码事了。” 庞巴耶夫用尽肺部所有的力气怒吼道。
Madame Suhantchikov was silent for a moment. "I know for a fact about that gentleman, " he continued in his ordinary voice, "that when he was summoned before the secret police, he groveled at the feet of the Countess Blazenkrampff and kept whining, 'Save me, intercede for me! ' But Pelikanov never demeaned 'himself to baseness like that. "
苏汉契科娃沉默了一会儿。 “关于这位绅士，我知道一件事情，” 他以平常的口吻继续说， “当他被召唤到秘密警察面前时，他跪在勃拉辛克拉普伯爵夫人面前，不住地哀诉： ‘救救我，帮我说下情吧！’ 但别里康诺夫决不会做出 ‘那种自贬身份的事。’
"Mm... Tentelyev... " muttered Gubaryov, "that... that ought to be noted. " Madame Suhantchikov shrugged her shoulders contemptuously.
“嗯……田捷列耶夫……” 古巴廖夫喃喃自语说， “这个……这个我们应当注意一下。” 苏汉契科娃蔑视地耸耸肩。
"They're one worse than another, " she said, "but I know a still better story about Tentelyev. He was, as every one knows, a most horrible despot with his serfs, though he gave himself out for an emancipator. Well, he was once at some friend's house in Paris, and suddenly in comes Madame Beecher Stowe—you know, Uncle Tom's Cabin. Tentelyev, who's an awfully pushing fellow, began asking the host to present him; but directly she heard his name. 'What? ' she said, 'he presumes to be introduced to the author of Uncle Tom? ' And she gave him a slap on the cheek! 'Go away! ' she says, 'at once! ' And what do you think? Tentelyev took his hat and slunk away, pretty crestfallen. " "Come, I think that's exaggerated, " observed Bambaev. “'Go away' she certainly did say, that's a fact, but she didn't give him a smack!”
“他们一个不如一个，” 她说， “但我还知道一个更好的有关田捷列耶夫的故事。众所周知，他对待他的农奴就像一位可怕至极的暴君，可还以解放者自居。田捷列耶夫有一次在巴黎的一位朋友家里，突然比彻? 斯托夫人，也就是——您知道的，《汤姆叔叔的小屋》的作者来了。田捷列耶夫这个十分莽撞的家伙想请主人引荐一下，但斯托夫人一听见他的名字就说： ‘什么？想认识《汤姆叔叔的小屋》的作者？’ 她在他的脸上扇了一耳光! ‘滚出去！’ 她说， ‘马上!’ 你们猜怎么样了？田捷列耶夫拿起帽子，相当气馁地溜走了。” “别说了，我觉得那也太夸张了吧。” 庞巴耶夫说， “她确实说了 ‘滚出去’ ，那是事实，但并没有扇他耳光。”
"She did, she did! " repeated Madame Suhantchikov with convulsive intensity: "I am not talking idle gossip. And you are friends with men like that! "
“扇了！扇了！” 苏汉契科娃略带痉挛地反复说道， “我并没有瞎扯。您竟然和那种人做朋友！”
"Excuse me, excuse me, Matrona Semyonovna, I never spoke of Tentelyev as a friend of mine; I was speaking of Pelikanov. "
“对不起，对不起，玛特辽娜? 谢苗诺夫娜！我从没说过田捷列耶夫是我的朋友。我说的是别里康诺夫。”
"Well, if it's not Tentelyev, it's another. Mihnyov, for example. "
“好吧，如果不是田捷列耶夫，就是另一个人。例如米赫涅夫。”
"What did he do then? " asked Bambaev, already showing signs of alarm. "What? Is it possible you don't know? He exclaimed on the Poznesensky Prospect in the hearing of all the world that all the liberals ought to be in prison; and what's more, an old schoolfellow came to him, a poor man of course, and said, 'Can I come to dinner with you? ' And this was his answer. 'No, impossible; I have two counts dining with me to—day... get along with you!’”
“他又干什么事啦？” 庞巴耶夫问道，显得有点儿惊慌。 “什么事？您怎么可能不知道？他在沃滋涅先斯基大街当着世人的面喊叫，所有的自由主义者都应进监狱。更有甚者，他的一位老校友，当然是位穷同学，来找他，问道： ‘我能来这里和您一起吃顿饭吗？’ 下面就是他的回答。 ‘不，不行，今天我要和两位伯爵一起吃饭。您自己想办法吧！’”
"But that's slander, upon my word! " vociferated Bambaev.
“那是诽谤，我敢保证！” 庞巴耶夫叫喊着。
"Slander?... slander? In the first place, Prince Vahrushkin, who was also dining at your Mihnyov's —" "Prince Vahrushkin, " Gubaryov interpolated severely, "is my cousin; but I don't allow him to enter my house…So there is no need to mention him, even. " "In the second place, " continued Madame Suhantchikov, with a submissive nod in Gubaryov's direction, "Praskovya Yakovlevna told me so herself. "
“诽谤？……诽谤？首先，瓦赫罗什金亲王也在您的米赫涅夫那里吃饭……” “瓦赫罗什金公爵，” 古巴廖夫严厉地插嘴说， “他是我的侄子，但是我不允许他进我的家门……因此，根本没有必要提他。” “其次，” 苏汉契科娃朝古巴廖夫顺从地点点头，继续说道： “是普拉斯科菲娅? 雅可夫列夫娜亲口告诉我的。”
"You have hit on a fine authority to quote! Why, she and Sarkizov are the greatest scandal—mongers going. "
“您找到了一位可靠的证人！她和萨尔基佐夫最喜欢到处散播谣言了。”
"I beg your pardon, Sarkizov is a liar, certainly. He filched the very pall of brocade off his dead father's coffin. I will never dispute that; but Praskovya Yakovlovna—there's no comparison! Remember how magnanimously she parted from her husband! But you, I know, are always ready—"
“对不起，萨尔基佐夫的确爱说谎。他偷了已故父亲棺材上的锦缎棺罩。这一点我从不怀疑。但是普拉斯科菲娅? 雅可夫列夫娜怎能和他相比呢！别忘了，她和丈夫离婚时，她表现得多么宽宏大量啊！但您，我知道，您总是准备——”
"Come, enough, enough, Matrona Semyonovna, " said Bambaev, interrupting her, "let us give up this tittletattle, and take a loftier flight. I am not new to the work, you know. Have you read Mlle. de la Quintinie? That's something charming now! And quite in accord with your principles at the same time!” " I never read novels now, "was Madame Suhantchikov's dry and sharp reply.
“够了，够了。玛特辽娜? 谢苗诺夫娜，” 庞巴耶夫打断她， “我们不谈论这一无聊的话题了，说个高尚的话题吧。您知道的，我对这个并不陌生。您读过《昆提尼小姐》吗？现在可流行了！同时, 它十分符合您的原则！” “我现在再也不读小说了。” 苏汉契科娃冷淡而尖锐地回答。
"Why? "
“为什么？”
"Because I have not the time now; I have no thoughts now but for one thing, sewing machines. "
“因为我现在没那时间。我现在什么事情也不想，只想一样东西，缝纫机。”
"What machines? " inquired Litvinov. "Sewing, sewing; all women ought to provide themselves with sewing—machines, and form societies; in that way they will all be enabled to earn their living, and will become independent at once. In no other way can they ever be emancipated. That is an important, most important social question. I had such an argument about it with Boleslav Stadnitsky. Boleslav Stadnitsky is a marvelous nature, but he looks at these things in an awfully frivolous spirit. He does nothing but laugh. Idiot!”
“什么机？” 李特维诺夫问道。 “缝纫机，缝纫机。所有的妇女都应该有缝纫机并且应该形成一个社团。这样一来，她们便能自力更生，马上变得独立。除此之外，她们无法被解放。那是个重要的、极其重要的社会问题。我与鲍列斯拉夫? 斯塔特尼茨基争论过这一问题。鲍列斯拉夫? 斯塔特尼茨基是个了不起的人，但他对这些问题的看法相当轻率。他只是一笑置之。笨蛋！”
"All will in their due time be called to account, from all it will be exacted, " pronounced Gubaryov deliberately, in a tone half—professorial, half—prophetic.
“做坏事迟早会遭报应的。” 古巴廖夫故意用半教授半预言家的口吻说道。
"Yes, yes, " repeated Bambaev, "it will be exacted, precisely so, it will be exacted. But, Stepan Nikolaitch, " he added, dropping his voice, "how goes the great work? " "I am collecting materials, " replied Gubaryov, knitting his brows; and, turning to Litvinov, whose head began to swim from the medley of unfamiliar names, and the frenzy of backbiting, he asked him what subjects he was interested in.
“是的，是的，” 庞巴耶夫反复说道, “会遭报应的，肯定会遭报应的。但是，斯捷潘? 尼古拉耶维奇，” 他又低声补充道， “您的大作进展如何？” “我正在收集资料。” 古巴廖夫皱着眉回答，然后他转向正被一大堆不熟悉的名字和恣意的诽谤弄得头昏目眩的李特维诺夫，问他是干什么的。
Litvinov satisfied his curiosity. "Ah! to be sure, the natural sciences. That is useful, as training; as training, not as an end in itself. The end at present should be... mm... should be... different. Allow me to ask what views do you hold? "
李特维诺夫满足了他的好奇心。 “啊！那肯定是自然科学啦。作为学习，那非常有用；作为学习，而并不是作为目标本身。目前, 目标应该是……嗯……应该是……另外一个。请允许我问下，您持的是什么观点？”
"What views? "
“什么观点？”
"Yes, that is, more accurately speaking, what are your political views? "
“是的，说得更准确些，也就是您的政治观点是什么？”
Litvinov smiled.
李特维诺夫笑了笑。
"Strictly speaking, I have no political views. "
“严格说来，我没有什么政治观点。”
The broad—shouldered man sitting in the corner raised his head quickly at these words and looked attentively at Litvinov.
听到这番话，坐在角落里的那个宽肩膀的男人迅速抬起头，专注地看着李特维诺夫。
"How is that? " observed Gubaryov with peculiar gentleness. "Have you not yet reflected on the subject, or have you grown weary of it? "
“怎么会呢？” 古巴廖夫用异常温和的口吻问道， “您是没有思考过这一问题，还是已经厌烦了这一问题？”
"How shall I say? It seems to me that for us Russians, it is too early yet to have political views or to imagine that we have them. Observe that I attribute to the word 'political't he meaning which belongs to it by right, and that—"
“怎么说呢？我认为对于我们俄国人来说，拥有政治观点或者想象我们已经有了政治观点，为时过早。注意，我这里 ‘政治’ 的含义是指它法律上具有的含义……并且它——”
"Aha! he belongs to the undeveloped, " Gubaryov interrupted him, with the same gentleness, and going up to Voroshilov, he asked him: 'Had he read the pamphlet he had given him? ' Voroshilov, to Litvinov's astonishment, had not uttered a word ever since his entrance, but had only knitted his brows and rolled his eyes (as a rule he was either speechifying or else perfectly dumb). He flow expanded his chest in soldierly fashion, and with a tap of his heels, nodded assent.
“啊！他还属于欠发达人群。” 古巴廖夫以同样温和的口吻打断他。他走向沃罗希洛夫并问他是否已经读完了自己给他的小册子。令李特维诺夫吃惊的是，沃罗希洛夫从进门起就一言不发，只是皱着眉，转着眼珠（通常，他不是滔滔不绝就是一声不吭）。他像军人那样挺起胸，轻扣一下脚后跟，点头表示读过了。
"Well, and how was it? Did you like it? "
“嗯，那么您觉得它怎么样？您喜欢它吗？”
"As regards the fundamental principles, I liked it; but I did not agree with the inferences. " "Mmm... Andrei Ivanitch praised that pamphlet, however. You must expand your doubts to me later. "
“我喜欢基本的理论，但我不同意结论。” “嗯……但是安德烈? 伊凡内奇赞扬这本小册子。稍后您必须向我阐述下您的怀疑。”
"You desire it in writing? " Gubaryov was obviously surprised; he had not expected this; however, after a moment's thought, he replied:
“您希望是以书面形式吗？” 古巴廖夫显然很吃惊，因为他并没想到他会提这样的问题。然而，想了片刻后, 他回答道：
"Yes, in writing. By the way, I will ask you to explain to me your views also... in regard to... in regard to associations. "
“是的，以书面形式。顺便说一下，我想请您向我解释一下您的观点……关于……关于团体的观点。”
"Associations on Lassalle's system, do you desire, or on the system of Schulze—Delitzsch? " "Mmm... on both. For us Russians, you understand, the financial aspect of the matter is specially important. Yes, and the artel... as the germ... All that, one must take note of. One must go deeply into it. And the question, too, of the land to be apportioned to the peasants... "
“您想知道的是关于拉萨尔式的团体还是舒尔茨? 德里奇式的团体？” “嗯……都想知道。对于我们俄国人来说，您知道的，这一问题的财政方面尤为重要。嗯，还有劳动组合……作为开始。所有这些我们都必须注意。必须深入研究。还有农民土地分配的问题……”
"And you, Stepan Nikolaitch, what is your view as to the number of acres suitable? " inquired Voroshilov, with reverential delicacy in his voice. "Mmm... and the commune? " articulated Gubaryov, deep in thought, and biting a tuft of his beard he stared at the table—leg. "The commune!... Do You understand? That is a grand word '! Then what is the significance of these conflagrations? these... these government measures against Sunday—schools, reading—rooms, journals? And the refusal of the peasants to sign the charters regulating their position in the future? And finally, what of what is happening in Poland? Don't you see that... mmm... that we... we have to unite with the people... find out... find out their views—" Suddenly a heavy, almost a wrathful emotion seemed to take possession of Gubaryov; he even grew black in the face and breathed heavily, but still did not raise his eyes, and continued to gnaw at his beard. Can't you see—
“还有您，斯捷潘? 尼古拉耶维奇，您认为几公顷土地才适合呢？沃罗希洛夫以略带敬意的口吻问道。 “嗯……还有公社呢？” 古巴廖夫说道，一边沉思，一边咬着一缕胡须，眼睛盯着一条桌腿。 “公社！……您懂吗？那是一个伟大的词！那么，这几场大火有什么意义呢？这些……政府所采取的这些反对主日学校、阅览室和杂志的措施……这些措施有什么意义呢？农民拒绝在规定他们未来地位的宪章上签字又有什么意义呢？最后，波兰正在发生的事件又有什么意思呢？难道您没看见……嗯……我们……我们必须团结人民……找出……找出他们的观点！” 突然, 古巴廖夫的脸上似乎被沉重几近愤怒的情绪给控制住了。他脸色发紫，呼吸沉重，但还是没有抬起头，继续咬着胡须。 “难道您没看到——”
"Yevseyev is a wretch! " Madame Suhantchikov burst out noisily all of a sudden. Bambaev had been relating something to her in a voice lowered out of respect for their host. Gubaryov turned round swiftly on his heels, and again began limping about the room.
“叶夫谢耶夫是个卑鄙小人！” 苏哈契科娃女士突然大声叫喊。庞巴耶夫一直对她说着什么，但是出于对主人的尊敬，他一直压低着声音。古巴廖夫用脚跟迅速地转过身，又开始在房间里踱步。
Fresh guests began to arrive; towards the end of the evening a good many people were assembled. Among them came, too, Mr. Yevseyev whom Madame Suhantchikov had vilified so cruelly. She entered into conversation with him very cordially, and asked him to escort her home; there arrived, too, a certain Pishtchalkin, an ideal mediator, one of those men of whom precisely, perhaps, Russia stands in need—a man, that is, narrow, of little information, and no great gifts, but conscientious, patient, and honest; the peasants of his district almost worshiped him, and he regarded himself very respectfully as a creature genuinely deserving of esteem. A few officers, too, were there, escaped for a brief furlough to Europe, and rejoicing—though of course warily, and ever mindful of their colonel in the background of their brains—in the opportunity of dallying a little with intellectual—even rather dangerous—people; two lanky students from Heidelberg came hurrying in, one looked about him very contemptuously, the other giggled spasmodically... both were very ill at ease; after them a Frenchman—a so—called petit jeune homme—poked his nose in; a nasty, silly, pitiful little creature,... who enjoyed some repute among his fellow commis—voyageurs on the theory that Russian countesses had fallen in love with him; for his own part, his reflections were centered more upon getting a supper gratis; the last to appear was Tit Bindasov, in appearance a rollicking German student, in reality a skinflint, in words a terrorist, by vocation a police—officer, a friend of Russian merchants' wives and Parisian cocottes; bald, toothless, and drunken; he arrived very red. In short, there were a number of people. Remarkable—really remarkable—was the respect with which all these people treated Gubaryov as a preceptor or chief; they laid their ideas before him, and submitted them to his judgment; and he replied by muttering, plucking at his beard, averting his eyes, or by some disconnected, meaningless words, which were at once seized upon as the utterances of the loftiest wisdom Gubaryov himself seldom interposed in the discussions; but the others strained their lungs to the utmost to make up for it. It happened more than once that three or four were shouting for ten minutes together, and all were content and understood. The conversation lasted till after midnight, and was as usual distinguished by the number and variety of the, subjects discussed. Madame Suhantchikov talked about Garibaldi, about a certain Karl Ivanovitch, who had been flogged by the serfs of his own household, about Napoleon III., about women's work, about a merchant, Pleskatchov, who had designedly caused the death of twelve workwomen, and had received a medal for it with the inscription "for public services"; about the proletariat, about the Georgian Prince Tchuktcheulidzov, who had shot his wife with a cannon, and about the future of Russia. Pishtchalkin, too, talked of the future of Russia, and of the spirit monopoly, and of the significance of nationalities, and of how he hated above everything what was vulgar. There was an outburst all of a sudden from Voroshilov; in a single breath, almost choking himself, he mentioned Draper, Virchow, Shelgunov, Bichat, Helmholtz, Star, St. Raymund, Johann Muller the physiologist, and Johann Muller the historian—obviously confounding them—Tame, Renan, Shtchapov; and then Thomas Nash, Peele, Greene... "What sort of queer fish may they be? " Bambaev muttered, bewildered, Shakespeare's predecessors having the same relation to him as the ranges of the Alps to Mont Blanc. Voroshilov replied cuttingly, and he, too, touched on the future of Russia. Bambaev also spoke of the future of Russia, and even depicted it in glowing colors: but he was thrown into special raptures over the thought of Russian music, in which he saw something. "Ah! great, indeed! " and in confirmation he began humming a song of Varlamov's, but was soon interrupted by a general shout, "He is singing the Miserere from the Trovatore, and singing it excruciatingly too. " One little officer was reviling Russian literature in the midst of the hubbub; another was quoting verses from Sparks; but Tit Bindasov went even further; he declared that all these swindlers ought to have their teeth knocked out,... and that's all about it, but he did not particularize who were the swindlers alluded to. The smoke from the cigars became stifling; all were hot and exhausted, every one was horse, all eyes were growing dim, and the perspiration stood out in drops on every face. Bottles of iced beer were brought in and drunk off instantaneously. "What was I saying? " remarked one; "and with whom was I disputing, and about what? " inquired another. And among all the uproar and the smoke, Gubaryov walked indefatigably up and down as before, swaying from side to side and twitching at his beard; now listening, turning an ear to some controversy, now putting in a word of his own; and every one was forced to feel that he, Gubaryov, was the source of it all, that he was the master here, and the most eminent personality... Litvinov, towards ten o'clock, began to have a terrible headache, and, taking advantage of a louder outburst of general excitement, went off quietly unobserved. Madame Suhantchikov had recollected a fresh served. Madame Suhantchikov had recollected a fresh act of injustice of Prince Barnaulov; he had all but given orders to have some one's ears bitten off.
新客人开始到来，夜末十分已经聚集了很多人。其中也包括被苏汉契科娃女士无情诋毁过的叶夫谢耶夫先生。她非常友好地与他谈话并请他送她回家。还有位叫比夏尔金的人也来了。他是理想的调停人，也许正是俄国所需要的那种人——鼠目寸光，知识缺乏，才能平庸，但是工作诚诚恳恳，有耐心，为人诚实。他所在的村镇农民几乎都崇拜他，他也懂得自尊自重，认为自己确实值得尊重。人群中还有一些到欧洲来短期休假的官员。他们十分开心有机会能与才智过人却相当危险的人嬉戏，尽管肯定要很小心，还要留心不要将上校抛之脑后。还有两个瘦长的匆匆从海德堡赶来的学生。一位鄙夷地望着四周，另一位则神经质地傻笑……两个人都感到不自在。后来又进来了一位法国人——一个所谓的 “小青年” ——跑过来插入到其中。他是个卑鄙、愚蠢而又可怜的小东西……由于一位俄国的伯爵夫人爱上了他，他在他的那些 “小职员旅客” 同伴之间享有一定的名望。她很喜欢他，但对他而言，他只想着怎样获得一份免费的晚餐。最后出现的一位是季特? 宾达索夫。他表面上像个无忧无虑的德国学生，实际上却敲诈别人，言语中透露出恐怖分子的面目。他的职业是警察，他还是一些俄国商人妻子和巴黎妓女的朋友。他是个秃顶，没有牙齿，醉醺醺的。刚来的时候满脸通红。总而言之，有许多人。奇怪的是，所有的来宾都很尊敬古巴廖夫，将他视作老师或长官。他们向他诉说自己的想法，并请古巴廖夫评判他们的想法。他则通过喃喃自语，捋胡须，转动眼珠的方式或者用一些不连贯、无意义的话来回答。他们认真地倾听并且把这些话作为至理名言。古巴廖夫自己很少参与讨论，其他人则争得热火朝天。经常发生这种情况：三四个人争论长达十分钟，随后大家都感到满意，还能互相理解。谈话一直持续到午夜，话题和往常一样形形色色。苏汉契科娃女士谈到加里波第，谈到被自己家中的农奴痛打一顿的卡尔? 伊凡诺维奇，谈到拿破仑三世，谈到妇女的工作，谈到故意将十二名女工劳累致死却因此获得刻有 “为人民服务” 勋章的商人普列斯卡切夫，谈到无产阶级，谈到用大炮射击自己妻子的格鲁吉亚公爵丘克切乌里泽夫，还谈到俄国的未来。比夏尔金也说到俄国的未来，酒的垄断问题，民族的意义以及他是多么憎恶一切庸俗的东西。沃罗希洛夫突然变得兴致勃勃，一口气谈到了许多人，差点儿被自己呛到了，有德列别尔、费尔霍夫、谢尔贡诺夫、比沙、盖尔姆戈里茨、斯塔尔、莱蒙特、生理学家约翰? 米勒、历史学家约翰? 米勒（明显他把他俩弄混了）、泰纳、列纳、夏波夫、托马斯? 纳什、比里、格林…… “他们是怎样的怪人呢？” 庞巴耶夫困惑地喃喃自语， “莎士比亚的前辈同他的关系就像阿尔卑斯和勃朗峰的关系一样。” 沃罗希洛夫挖苦地回答，然后又说到了俄国的未来。庞巴耶夫也说到了俄国的未来并且有声有色地描述着。当谈到俄国的音乐时，他变得欣喜若狂，因为他看到了俄国音乐中珍贵的东西。 “啊！是的，的确很伟大！” 为了证明这一观点，他开始哼瓦尔拉莫夫的歌曲，但是马上被大家的喊叫声打断了： “他唱的是《流浪诗人》中的咏叹调，唱得也很糟。” 一位小官员在人潮中辱骂俄国文学，另一位官员则引用《火星报》的诗，但是季特? 宾达索夫更过分，宣称这些骗子的牙齿全都要被打掉……这样就太平了，但他并没有具体指出他说的骗子是谁。雪茄散发的烟雾令人窒息，所有人都感到闷热、筋疲力尽，嗓子都沙哑无力，眼睛暗淡无神，脸上大汗淋漓。冰镇酒一拿进来立刻就被人们一饮而尽。这个人问： “我说什么来着？” 另一个人则问： “我刚才和谁争执，争执了什么？” 在喧嚣和烟雾中，古巴廖夫依旧不知疲倦地在房间里踱步，身体左右摇晃着并捋着胡须。他一会儿聆听人们的争论，一会儿发表自己的观点。每个人都会不由自主地感觉到古巴廖夫是这里所有争论的来源，是这里的主人和最显赫的人物……将近十点，李特维诺夫头疼得厉害，便趁着一阵激动声悄悄溜走了。苏汉契科娃女士又想到一件新鲜事。苏汉契科娃女士想起了巴尔纳乌洛夫公爵刚做出的一件不公正的事，他就差没有下令将某个人的耳朵咬下来。
The fresh night air enfolded Litvinov's flushed face caressingly, the fragrant breeze breathed on his parched lips. "What is it, " he thought as he went along the dark avenue, "that I have been present at? Why were they met together? What were they shouting, scolding, and making such a pother about? What was it all for? " Litvinov shrugged his shoulders, and turning into Weber's, he picked up a newspaper and asked for an ice. The newspaper was taken up with a discussion on the Roman question, and the ice turned out to be very nasty. He was already preparing to go home, when suddenly an unknown person in a wide—brimmed hat drew near, and saying in Russian: "I hope I am not in your way? " sat down at his table. Only then, after a closer glance at the stranger, Litvinov recognized him as the broad—shouldered gentleman hidden away in a corner at Gubaryov's, who had stared at him with such attention when the conversation had turned on political views. During the whole evening this gentleman had not once opened his mouth, and now, sitting down near Litvinov, and taking off his hat, he looked at him with an expression of friendliness and some embarrassment.
晚上，新鲜的空气轻柔地抚摩着李特维诺夫通红的脸颊，馨香的清风吹拂着他干渴的双唇。 “这是怎么啦，” 他走在漆黑的林阴道上，心想， “我为什么会参加聚会呢？他们为什么聚在一起？他们在叫什么，责骂什么，为什么事情吵得这么厉害？到底是为什么呢？” 李特维诺夫耸耸肩，走进韦伯咖啡馆，拿起一份报纸，点了份冰激凌。报纸上净是些关于罗马问题的讨论，而冰激凌又很难吃。他正打算回家，突然一位头戴宽边礼帽的陌生男子走近他，用俄语说： “我没打扰您吧？” 说完，在他的桌边坐了下来。仔细地端详过这位陌生人之后，李特维诺夫才认出这个宽肩膀的男人正是坐在古巴廖夫家角落里的那个人。谈到政治信仰时，这人曾经聚精会神地盯着他看。整个晚上，这位绅士一言不发，现在却坐在李特维诺夫身旁，摘下帽子，用友好而略带尴尬的眼神看着李特维诺夫。