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第三章 莓泉

At the beginning of August the heat often becomes insupportable. At that season, from twelve to three o'clock, the most determined and ardent sportsman is not able to hunt, and the most devoted dog begins to "clean his master's spurs, " that is, to follow at his heels, his eyes painfully blinking, and his tongue hanging out to an exaggerated length; and in response to his master's reproaches he humbly wags his tail and shows his confusion in his face; but he does not run forward. I happened to be out hunting on exactly such a day. I had long been fighting against the temptation to lie down somewhere in the shade, at least for a moment; for a long time my indefatigable dog went on running about in the bushes, though he clearly did not himself expect much good from his feverish activity. The stifling heat compelled me at last to begin to think of husbanding our energies and strength. I managed to reach the little river Ista, which is already known to my indulgent readers, descended the steep bank, and walked along the damp, yellow sand in the direction of the spring, known to the whole neighbourhood as Raspberry Spring. This spring gushes out of a cleft in the bank, which widens out by degrees into a small but deep creek, and, twenty paces beyond it, falls with a merry babbling sound into the river. Young oak covers the sloping wall of the ravine; the short velvety grass is green about the source: the sun's rays scarcely ever reach its cold, silvery water. I came as far as the spring; a cup of birch—wood lay on the grass, left by a passing peasant for the public benefit. I quenched my thirst, lay down in the shade, and looked round. In the cave, which had been formed by the flowing of the stream into the river, and hence marked for ever with the trace of ripples, two old men were sitting with their backs to me. One, a rather stout and tall man in a neat dark—green coat and lined cap, was fishing; the other was thin and little; he wore a patched fustian coat and no cap; he held a little pot full of worms on his knees, and sometimes lifted his hand up to his grizzled little head, as though he wanted to protect it from the sun. I looked at him more attentively, and recognised in him Styopushka of Shumihino. I must ask the reader's leave to present this man to him.

八月初酷热的天气总是叫人无法忍受。在那个季节,从正午十二点到下午三点这段时间,即便是最坚定、最热衷于打猎的猎人也无法出去打猎,连最忠诚的狗也开始 “蹭主人靴子上的马刺” ,也就是说,它跟在主人的脚后跟后面,痛苦地眨巴着眼睛,舌头伸得老长,面对主人的责备它只是谦卑地摇摇尾巴,露出一脸的困惑,但也不朝前跑。我碰巧就是在这样的一天出去打猎。我好想找个阴凉的地方躺着,哪怕只是一会儿,面对这样的诱惑我思想斗争了很长时间;我那不知疲倦的猎狗一直在灌木丛里到处乱跑,尽管很显然它并不期待自己的狂热举动会得到许多好处。这种闷热的天气迫使我最终开始考虑,还是保存一下我们的精力和体力为好。我努力走到了伊斯塔小河边,我宽容的读者们对这条河已经很熟悉了,我走下了陡峭的坝埂,踩着潮湿的黄沙朝着泉水的方向走去,那是附近一带颇为有名的莓泉。这股泉水从河岸上的裂缝中涌出来,渐变成了一条又窄又深的小溪,在离泉眼二十步远的地方落入河中,还发出了欢快的叮咚声。峡谷斜斜的岸上长满了小橡树,泉眼旁边还长着光滑柔软的小绿草,清冽银色的泉水就像几乎没被阳光照射过似的。我步履维艰地来到泉水边,草地上放着一个桦树皮做的木勺,是一个过路的农人留下给大家提供方便的。我好好地喝了一顿,然后躺在阴凉处,看了看四周。在泉水汇入河水的地方,形成了一个水窝,因此那里总是荡起一圈圈涟漪,有两个老头背朝着我坐在那里。其中一个老头健壮高大,穿着一件干净的墨绿色外套,头上戴着有衬里的帽子,正在垂钓;另一个则又瘦又小,穿着带补丁的粗棉布外套,没戴帽子,膝盖上放着一个装满了虫子的小罐子,有时候他把手抬起放到头发斑白的小脑袋上,好像想用手挡住阳光似的。我仔细看了看他,认出来他就是舒米希诺村的斯捷普什卡。我得请求读者允许我介绍一下这个人。

A few miles from my place there is a large village called Shumihino, with a stone church, erected in the name of St. Kosmo and St. Damian. Facing this church there had once stood a large and stately manor—house, surrounded by various outhouses, offices, workshops, stables and coach—houses, baths and temporary kitchens, wings for visitors and for bailiffs, conservatories, swings for the people, and other more or less useful edifices. A family of rich landowners lived in this manor—house, and all went well with them, till suddenly one morning all this prosperity was burnt to ashes. The owners removed to another home; the place was deserted. The blackened site of the immense house was transformed into a kitchen—garden, cumbered up in parts by piles of bricks, the remains of the old foundations. A little hut had been hurriedly put together out of the beams that had escaped the fire; it was roofed with timber bought ten years before for the construction of a pavilion in the Gothic style; and the gardener, Mitrofan, with his wife Axinya and their seven children, was installed in it. Mitrofan received orders to send greens and garden—stuff for the master's table, a hundred and fifty miles away; Axinya was put in charge of a Tyrolese cow, which had been bought for a high price in Moscow, but had remained barren and had, consequently, not given a drop of milk since its acquisition; a crested smoke—coloured drake too had been left in her hands, the solitary "seignorial" bird; for the children, in consideration of their tender age, no special duties had been provided, a fact, however, which had not hindered them from growing up utterly lazy. It happened to me on two occasions to stay the night at this gardener's, and when I passed by I used to get cucumbers from him, which, for some unknown reason, were even in summer peculiar for their size, their poor, watery flavour, and their thick yellow skin. It was there I first saw Styopushka. Except Mitrofan and his family, and the old deaf churchwarden Gerasim, kept out of charity in a little room at the one—eyed soldier's widow's, not one man among the house—serfs had remained at Shumihino; for Styopushka, whom I intend to introduce to the reader, could not be classified under the special order of house—serfs, and hardly under the genus' man 'at all.

在离我家只有几英里远的地方有一个叫舒米希诺的大村子,那里有一座石结构的教堂,它是以圣科济马和圣达米安的名义修建的。在这个教堂对面曾经有一座宽敞宏大的庄园主宅邸,周围有各种各样的附属建筑,有杂用房、作坊、马厩、澡堂和临时厨房、供客人和管家住的厢房、温室、大众娱乐室和其他或多或少有用的房子。财主一家曾住在这个宅邸里,他们的日子一直都过得安安稳稳的,直到有一天早晨,一场大火把他们所有的家产都烧成了灰烬。这个宅邸的主人就搬到了别处安家,这个地方便被遗弃了。这一大片的废弃地被改建成了一个菜园,先前屋子留下的一堆堆砖头把它隔成了一块一块的。人们匆忙地用没被烧毁的木梁搭了一间小屋,屋顶上用的是十年前为修建哥特式亭子购置的木料,园丁米特罗方按照吩咐带着他的妻子阿克西尼娅和七个孩子住进了这个小屋里。米特罗方奉命给一百五十英里外的主人家提供绿色蔬菜之类的种植物,阿克西尼娅则负责看管一头季罗里种母牛,这头牛是从莫斯科花大价钱买来的,可是丧失了生殖能力,因此自从它被买来以后一滴奶都没产过,还有一只灰冠公鸭也由她饲养,这可是唯一的 “领主家的” 家禽。孩子们由于年纪尚小,就没有被分配到特别的任务,然而,这倒使他们长成了十足的懒人。我碰巧曾在这个园丁家住过两宿,我路过的时候常常向他买些黄瓜,可不知道为什么,这些黄瓜在夏天就已经长得特别大,可是却淡而无味,皮也又黄又厚。就是在他家里,我头一次见到了斯捷普什卡。除了米特罗方和他的家人,以及一个年老失聪的堂会理事格拉西姆,出于慈善而得以寄住在一个独眼士兵遗孀的小房间里之外,没有任何家奴留在舒米希诺村了。因为我要向读者介绍的这个斯捷普什卡,不能被归于家奴之列,也根本不在 “人” 的范围之内。

Every man has some kind of position in society, and at least some ties of some sort; every house—serf receives, if not wages, at least some so—called "ration". Styopushka had absolutely no means of subsistence of any kind; had no relationship to anyone; no one knew of his existence. This man had not even a past; there was no story told of him; he had probably never been enrolled on a census—revision. There were vague rumours that he had once belonged to someone as a valet; but who he was, where he came from, who was his father, and how he had come to be one of the Shumihino people; in what way he had come by the fustian coat he had worn from immemorial times; where he lived and what he lived on—on all these questions no one had the least idea; and, to tell the truth, no one took any interest in the subject. Grandfather Trofimitch, who knew all the pedigrees of all the house—serfs in the direct line to the fourth generation, had once indeed been known to say that he remembered that Styopushka was related to a Turkish woman whom the late master, the brigadier Alexy Romanitch had been pleased to bring home from a campaign in the baggage waggon. Even on holidays, days of general money—giving and of feasting on buckwheat dumplings and vodka, after the old Russian fashion—even on such days Styopushka did not put in an appearance at the trestle—tables nor at the barrels; he did not make his bow nor kiss the master's hand, nor toss off to the master's health and under the master's eye a glass filled by the fat hands of the bailiff. Some kind soul who passed by him might share an unfinished bit of dumpling with the poor beggar, perhaps. At Easter they said "Christ is risen! " to him; but he did not pull up his greasy sleeve, and bring out of the depths of his pocket a coloured egg, to offer it, panting and blinking, to his young masters or to the mistress herself. He lived in summer in a little shed behind the chicken—house, and in winter in the ante—room of the bathhouse; in the bitter frosts he spent the night in the hayloft. The house—serfs had grown used to seeing him; sometimes they gave him a kick, but no one ever addressed a remark to him; as for him, he seems never to have opened his lips from the time of his birth. After the conflagration, this forsaken creature sought a refuge at the gardener Mitrofan's. The gardener left him alone; he did not say "Live with me, " but he did not drive him away. And Styopushka did not live at the gardener's; his abode was the garden. He moved and walked about quite noiselessly; he sneezed and coughed behind his hand, not without apprehension; he was for ever busy and going stealthily to and fro like an ant; and all to get food—simply food to eat. And indeed, if he had not toiled from morning till night for his living, our poor friend would certainly have died of hunger. It's a sad lot not to know in the morning what you will find to eat before night! Sometimes Styopushka sits under the hedge and gnaws a radish or sucks a carrot, or shreds up some dirty cabbage—stalks; or he drags a bucket of water along, for some object or other, groaning as he goes; or he lights a fire under a small pot, and throws in some little black scraps which he takes from out of the bosom of his coat; or he is hammering in his little wooden den—driving in a nail, putting up a shelf for bread. And all this he does silently, as though on the sly: before you can look round, he's in hiding again. Sometimes he suddenly disappears for a couple of days; but of course no one notices his absence.... Then, lo and behold! he is there again, somewhere under the hedge, stealthily kindling a fire of sticks under a kettle. He had a small face, yellowish eyes, hair coming down to his eyebrows, a sharp nose, large transparent ears, like a bat's, and a beard that looked as if it were a fortnight's growth, and never grew more nor less. This, then, was Styopushka, whom I met on the bank of the Ista in company with another old man.

每个人在社会上都有某种地位,至少也有某种关系;凡是家奴,要是没有工资,至少都会有所谓的 “口粮” 。斯捷普什卡却完全没有任何谋生手段,无亲无故,也没人知道他的存在。这个人连过去都没有,也没有人谈起过他,可能人口调查薄上都没有登记过他的名字。隐隐约约有谣言说,他曾经是某人的贴身男仆,然而他是谁,从哪里来,父亲是谁,他是怎么成为舒米希诺村的村民的,怎么得来那件不知从何年何月起就穿在身上的粗棉布外套的,住在哪里,靠什么生存——所有这些问题,一点都没人知道,并且老实说,也没有人对这些事感兴趣。特罗菲梅奇老爷爷熟知所有家奴四代之内直系血亲的家谱,他有一次确实说过他记得斯捷普什卡跟一个土耳其女人有血缘关系,那个女人是已故的主人阿列克赛•罗曼内奇旅长一时兴起从战场上用辎重车拉回家来的。按照俄国古老的风俗,每逢过节,就会赏钱给大家并用荞麦馅饼和伏特加酒款待大家——即便是这样的日子,斯捷普什卡也不在搁板桌和酒桶旁露面,他既不鞠躬,也不去亲吻老爷的手,更不会当着老爷的面为祝老爷身体健康而喝光管家胖乎乎的手斟满的酒。某个路过的好心人或许会把没吃完的馅饼送给这个可怜的乞丐。过复活节时,人们对他说 “基督复活了” ,但他也不把自己油腻的袖子卷起来,只是从他的口袋深处掏出彩蛋,边喘气边眨巴着眼睛,把彩蛋送给他的小主人或女主人。他夏天住在鸡舍后面的小棚子里,冬天住在澡堂的前厅里,特别冷的时候,他就到干草棚里过夜。家奴们渐渐地对他也见惯不怪了,有时候会踢他一脚,但是没有人对他说过一句话,而他自己,也好像生来就从没张过嘴一样。那场大火过后,这个被遗忘的人就在园丁米特罗方家找到了栖身之处。园丁不理睬他,既没有对他说 “住在我这儿吧” ,也没有赶他走。斯捷普什卡也没有住在园丁家里,他就住在菜园子里。他一举一动、来来去去都悄无声息,打喷嚏和咳嗽都用手捂着,带着一种恐惧;他总是忙忙碌碌的,像只蚂蚁一样悄无声息地来来回回,而这一切都是为了得到食物——弄口饭吃而已。真的,要不是他从早到晚为自己的生计辛苦劳作,我们这位可怜的朋友一定已经饿死了。一个人在早上的时候不知道自己在晚上之前能够找到什么样的吃的,这真是一件悲哀的事情。斯捷普什卡有时坐在篱笆下啃小萝卜或舔胡萝卜,或者撕咬一些脏兮兮的白菜帮子,要么哼哼唧唧地不知要干什么而拖着一桶水走,要么在一个小罐下面生火,从怀里掏出来几小块黑乎乎的东西扔进去,要么就在他的小木屋里面敲敲打打——钉上钉子,制作一个放面包的架子。而他做这所有的事都是悄悄地,像是在背着别人:你还没来得及四处看看,他就又藏了起来。有时他会突然消失几天,不过,当然没人会注意到他不见了……然后,看哪!他又出现了,在篱笆下的某个地方,正偷偷地用木棍在水壶下生火。他长了一张小脸,一双黄色的眼睛,头发一直遮到了眉毛,鼻子尖尖的,大大的耳朵很显眼,同蝙蝠的一样,胡子看上去蓄了有两星期,而且一直保持那个长度。好了,这就是斯捷普什卡,我看到他与另一个老头坐在伊斯塔河岸上。

I went up to him, wished him good—day, and sat down beside him. Styopushka's companion too I recognised as an acquaintance; he was a freed serf of Count Piotr Ilitch's, one Mihal Savelitch, nicknamed Tuman (i. e. fog). He lived with a consumptive Bolhovsky man, who kept an inn, where I had several times stayed. Young officials and other persons of leisure travelling on the Orel highroad (merchants, buried in their striped rugs, have other things to do)may still see at no great distance from the large village of Troitska, and almost on the highroad, an immense two—storied wooden house, completely deserted, with its roof falling in and its windows closely stuffed up. At mid—day in bright, sunny weather nothing can be imagined more melancholy than this ruin. Here there once lived Count Piotr Ilitch, a rich grandee of the olden time, renowned for his hospitality. At one time the whole province used to meet at his house, to dance and make merry to their heart's content to the deafening sound of a home—trained orchestra, and the popping of rockets and Roman candles; and doubtless more than one aged lady sighs as she drives by the deserted palace of the boyar and recalls the old days and her vanished youth. The count long continued to give balls, and to walk about with an affable smile among the crowd of fawning guests; but his property, unluckily, was not enough to last his whole life. When he was entirely ruined, he set off to Petersburg to try for a post for himself, and died in a room at a hotel, without having gained anything by his efforts. Tuman had been a steward of his, and had received his freedom already in the count's lifetime. He was a man of about seventy, with a regular and pleasant face. He was almost continually smiling, as only men of the time of Catherine ever do smile—a smile at once stately and indulgent; in speaking, he slowly opened and closed his lips, winked genially with his eyes, and spoke slightly through his nose. He blew his nose and took snuff too in a leisurely fashion, as though he were doing something serious.

我走到了他面前,向他问了好,然后在他身旁坐了下来。我还认出了斯捷普什卡的那位同伴,我认识他:他以前是彼得•伊利奇伯爵家的农奴,现在已经自由了,叫做米海洛•萨韦利耶夫,绰号叫 “杜曼” (意思是雾)。他和波尔霍夫城一个患肺病的人住在一起,那人开了一间小旅馆,我在那间小旅馆住过几次。年轻的官员或其他悠闲的人从奥廖尔大道经过时(那些裹着条纹毯子的商人有其他的事情要做),也许仍能看见在离特罗伊茨基这个大村子不远处的地方,有一幢很大的两层楼的木屋屹立在路旁,已经完全荒废了,屋顶塌了下来,窗户也被完全堵住了。在阳光普照、风和日丽的正午时分,没有什么比这废墟更令人伤感的了。这里以前住着彼得•伊利奇伯爵,是昔日的一个贵族,他以好客而闻名。曾经,全省的名流都聚集在他家里,伴着家庭乐队震耳欲聋的音乐,以及烟火和罗马焰火筒噼哩啪啦的声音,尽情地跳舞、玩乐。毫无疑问,不止一位老太太在乘车路过这座荒废的贵族宅邸时,会一边叹息,一边回忆着往昔的岁月和逝去的青春。这位伯爵连续多年举办舞会,带着亲切的笑容穿梭在谄媚奉承的宾客之中;但不幸的是,他的财产并不够他挥霍一辈子。当他彻底破产后,就启程去彼得堡,想为自己谋个职位,可他的努力并没有得到任何的收获,最后死在了宾馆的房间里。杜曼以前当过伯爵的管家,在伯爵还健在时就获得了自由。杜曼差不多有七十岁了,相貌端正,很讨人喜欢。他几乎总是笑眯眯的,只有叶卡捷琳娜时代的人才有那样的笑容——一种立即显现出优雅和宽厚的笑容;他说话时,嘴唇慢慢地张开又合上,眼睛也亲切地眯起来,还稍微带着点鼻音。他擤鼻涕、吸鼻烟都是慢悠悠的,好像在做什么要紧的事一样。

"Well, Mihal Savelitch, " I began, "have you caught any fish? "

“怎么样,米海洛•萨韦利耶夫,” 我开始说道, “你钓到鱼了吗?”

"Here, if you will deign to look in the basket: I have caught two perch and five roaches.... Show them, Styopka.”

“嘿,要是您不嫌弃的话,就往鱼篓里看看:我钓到了两头鲈鱼还有五条拟鲤……给他们看看,斯捷潘。”

Styopushka stretched out the basket to me.

斯捷普什卡把鱼篓递给我看。

"How are you, Styopka? " I asked him.

“最近好吗,斯捷潘?” 我问他。

"Oh—oh—not—not—not so badly, your honour, " answered Stepan, stammering as though he had a heavy weight on his tongue.

“哦——哦——不——不——不赖,老爷。” 斯捷潘结结巴巴地答道,仿佛舌头上压着重东西似的。

"And is Mitrofan well? "

“米特罗方身体好吗?”

"Well—yes, yes—your honour.”

“他身体很好——是的,是的——老爷。”

The poor fellow turned away.

这个可怜的家伙把脸转了过去。

"But there are not many bites, " remarked Tuman; "it's so fearfully hot; the fish are all tired out under the bushes; they're asleep. Put on a worm, Styopka. " (Styopushka took out a worm, laid it on his open hand, struck it two or three times, put it on the hook, spat on it, and gave it to Tuman. )

“没有多少鱼上钩啊,” 杜曼说道, “天气实在是太热了,鱼都累了,躲到灌木丛下睡觉去了。给我装个鱼饵吧,斯捷潘。” (斯捷普什卡取出一条虫子,把它放在手掌上,拍了两三下,就挂到了钩子上,然后朝它吐了口唾沫,递给了杜曼。)

"Thanks, Styopka.... And you, your honour, " he continued, turning to me, "are pleased to be out hunting? "

“谢啦,斯捷潘……您呢,老爷,” 他转向我继续问道, “出来打猎感觉满意吗?”

"As you see. "

“正如你所见。”

"Ah—and is your dog there English or German?”

“呀——您的狗是英国种还是德国种?”

The old man liked to show off on occasion, as though he would say, "I, too, have lived in the world! "

这老头有时也喜欢炫耀一下,好像在说: “我也是见过世面的人!”

"I don't know what breed it is, but it's a good dog.”

“我不知道它是什么品种的,不过它是一只好狗。”

"Ah! and do you go out with the hounds too? "

“哦!您出门也带猎狗吗?”

"Yes, I have two leashes of hounds. "

“嗯,我养了六只猎狗。”

Tuman smiled and shook his head.

杜曼笑着摇了摇头。

"That's just it: one man is devoted to dogs, and another doesn't want them for anything. According to my simple notions, I fancy dogs should be kept rather for appearance 'sake... and all should be in style too; horses too should be in style, and huntsmen in style, as they ought to be, and all. The late count—God's grace be with him! —was never, I must own, much of a hunter; but he kept dogs, and twice a year he was pleased to go out with them. The huntsmen assembled in the courtyard, in red caftans trimmed with galloon, and blew their horns; his excellency would be pleased to come out, and his excellency's horse would be led up; his excellency would mount, and the chief huntsman puts his feet in the stirrups, takes his hat off, and puts the reins in his hat to offer them to his excellency. His excellency is pleased to click his whip like this, and the huntsmen give a shout, and off they go out of the gate away. A huntsman rides behind the count, and holds in a silken leash two of the master's favourite dogs, and looks after them well, you may fancy.... And he, too, this huntsman, sits up high, on a Cossack saddle: such a red—cheeked fellow he was, and rolled his eyes like this.... And there were guests too, you may be sure, on such occasions, and entertainment, and ceremonies observed.... Ah, he's got away, the Asiatic! " he interrupted himself suddenly, drawing in his line.

“就是这样:有的人很喜欢养狗,有的人却无论如何也不想养狗。依我之见,我觉得养狗主要是为了面子……一切都应该有气派,马也应该有气派,管猎犬的仆人也是,一切都是。已故的伯爵——上帝保佑他——我必须承认,他向来都不是个好猎人,不过他也养狗,而且一年也会带着狗出去两次。管猎犬的仆人们聚集在院子里,他们穿着带金线花边的红外套,吹起号角;伯爵大人会很高兴地走出来,他的马也会被牵出来,人们把他扶上马,猎人的首领把伯爵的脚套进马镫里,然后脱下自己的帽子,把缰绳放到帽子里呈递给伯爵。伯爵大人会愉快地像这样抽一下马鞭,猎人们便大吼一声,然后朝门口跑出去了。一个猎人骑着马跟在伯爵身后,用绸缎带子牵着主人最喜欢的两只狗,好好地看管它们,您可以想象一下……这个猎人还高高地坐在哥萨克马鞍上,他的脸颊红扑扑的,眼珠就这样打着转……当然啦,那样的场合是少不了宾客、娱乐活动,还有庆典的……呀,叫它跑了,可恶!” 他拉了下鱼竿,突然说道。

"They say the count used to live pretty freely in his day? " I asked.

“听说伯爵这辈子活得很潇洒?” 我问道。

The old man spat on the worm and lowered the line in again.

老头往虫子上吐了口唾沫,又把鱼线抛到了水里。

"He was a great gentleman, as is well—known. At times the persons of the first rank, one may say, at Petersburg, used to visit him. With coloured ribbons on their breasts they used to sit down to table and eat. Well, he knew how to entertain them. He called me sometimes. 'Tuman, ' says he, 'I want by to—morrow some live sturgeon; see there are some, do you hear?’ ' Yes, your excellency. 'Embroidered coats, wigs, canes, perfumes, eau de Cologne of the best sort, snuff—boxes, huge pictures: he would order them all from Paris itself! When he gave a banquet, God Almighty, Lord of my being! there were fireworks, and carriages driving up! They even fired off the cannon. The orchestra alone consisted of forty men. He kept a German as conductor of the band, but the German gave himself dreadful airs; he wanted to eat at the same table as the masters; so his excellency gave orders to get rid of him! ' My musicians, 'says he, ' can do their work even without a conductor. 'Of course he was master. Then they would fall to dancing, and dance till morning, especially at the ecossaise—matrador.... Ah—ah—there's one caught! " (The old man drew a small perch out of the water. )Here you are, Styopka! The master was all a master should be, continued the old man, dropping his line in again, and he had a kind heart too. He would give you a blow at times, and before you could look round, he'd forgotten it already. There was only one thing: he kept mistresses. Ugh, those mistresses! God forgive them! They were the ruin of him too; and yet, you know, he took them most generally from a low station. You would fancy they would not want much? Not a bit—they must have everything of the most expensive in all Europe! One may say, ' Why shouldn't he live as he likes; it's the master's business' ... but there was no need to ruin himself. There was one especially; Akulina was her name. She is dead now; God rest her soul! the daughter of the watchman at Sitoia; and such a vixen! She would slap the count's face sometimes. She simply bewitched him. My nephew she sent for a soldier; he spilt some chocolate on a new dress of hers... and he wasn't the only one she served so. Ah, well, those were good times, though! "added the old man with a deep sigh. His head drooped forward and he was silent.

“众所周知,他是个了不起的绅士。可以说,有时那些彼得堡的头号人物也来拜访他。那些胸前挂着彩色绶带的人,也曾经在他家用餐。那个,他懂得如何去招待他们。他有时把我叫过去。 ‘杜曼,’ 他说, ‘我明天想要些活的鲟鱼,那里有一些,听到了吗?’ ‘是,阁下。’ 刺绣外套、假发、藤椅、香水、高级古龙水、鼻烟壶、巨幅画:这些都是他从巴黎订购的呢!当他举办宴会时,天哪,我的上帝啊!那可是烟火冲天,车水马龙啊!他们甚至还放大炮。单是管弦乐队就有四十个人呢。他曾找了一个德国人来当乐队的指挥,可那个德国人却摆起了臭架子,要和主人家在同一张桌子上进餐,伯爵大人便下令将他赶了出去。 ‘我的乐师,’ 他说, ‘就是没有指挥也能演奏得好。’ 那可不,他是老爷哩。然后他们就开始跳舞,一直跳到第二天早上,特别是跳埃柯塞斯舞和马特拉杜尔舞。……啊——啊——一条鱼上钩了!” (老头从水里拉起了一条小鲈鱼。) “给你,斯捷帕!主人就有个当主人的样子,” 老头又把钩抛了下去,接着说道, “他也是个好心肠的人。他有时会打你一下,但是还没等你缓过神来,他早就忘了。但是有一件事:他养情妇。呸,这些情妇们!愿上帝宽恕她们!他的破产也有她们的原因,您也知道,她们大都是他从下等人里挑出来的。你会想她们准该知足了吧?一点也不——她们巴不得拥有整个欧洲最昂贵的东西!人们或许会说: ‘他为什么不可以随心所欲地生活,毕竟这是主人自己的事’ ……但也没必要把自己给毁了吧。特别是其中一个叫阿库丽娜的女人。她现在已经死了,上帝让她安息吧!她是西托夫一个看守人的女儿,她可真是个泼妇!她有时还掴伯爵一个耳光。她简直把他迷惑住了。我的侄子被她送去当兵了,就因为他把一些巧克力溅在她的新裙子上……他还不是唯一一个被她送去当兵的人呢。唉,嗯,不管怎样,那时候可是好时光啊!” 老头边补充道,边深深地叹了口气。接着他垂下了头就不说话了。

"Your master, I see, was severe, then? " I began after a brief silence.

“依我看,你家主人当时很严厉吧?” 我沉默了一小会儿后问道。

"That was the fashion then, your honour, " he replied, shaking his head.

“老爷,那个时候都是那样的啊。” 他边摇头边回答说。

"That sort of thing is not done now? " I observed, not taking my eyes off him.

“现在还有那样的事吧?” 我目不转睛地看着他说道。

He gave me a look askance.

他怀疑地看了我一眼。

"Now, surely it's better, " he muttered, and let out his line further.

“现在情况当然是好多了。” 他一边咕哝着,一边把钩抛得远远的。

We were sitting in the shade; but even in the shade it was stifling. The sultry atmosphere was faint and heavy; one lifted one's burning face uneasily, seeking a breath of wind; but there was no wind. The sun beat down from blue and darkening skies; right opposite us, on the other bank, was a yellow field of oats, overgrown here and there with wormwood; not one ear of the oats quivered. A little lower down a peasant's horse stood in the river up to its knees, and slowly shook its wet tail; from time to time, under an overhanging bush, a large fish shot up, bringing bubbles to the surface, and gently sank down to the bottom, leaving a slight ripple behind it. The grasshoppers chirped in the scorched grass; the quail's cry sounded languid and reluctant; hawks sailed smoothly over the meadows, often resting in the same spot, rapidly fluttering their wings and opening their tails into a fan. We sat motionless, overpowered with the heat. Suddenly there was a sound behind us in the creek; someone came down to the spring. I looked round, and saw a peasant of about fifty, covered with dust, in a smock, and wearing bast slippers; he carried a wickerwork pannier and a cloak on his shoulders. He went down to the spring, drank thirstily, and got up.

我们坐在阴凉处,但还是很闷热。闷热的空气让人感到昏昏沉沉,心神不定地抬起滚烫的脸,来寻觅一丝凉风,却一点也没有。蓝色的天空渐渐变暗了,太阳暴晒着大地;在我们正对面的河岸那边,有一片黄色的燕麦田,里面到处长满了洋艾,可没有一根麦穗动一下。在稍微低一点的地方,一匹农家的马站在及膝的河水里,慢慢地摇着它那湿淋淋的尾巴;在外悬的灌木底下,不时会浮出一条大鱼,在水面上吹起几个泡泡,然后又轻轻地沉到水底,在身后留下一圈圈微波。蚱蜢在枯黄的草里喳喳地叫着;鹌鹑仿佛不情愿似的,发出懒洋洋的叫声;老鹰平稳地在草地上空翱翔,经常落在同一个地方歇息,然后快速地拍打着翅膀,把尾巴展成扇形。由于这热度令人难以忍受,我们便一动不动地坐着。忽然从我们身后的小河湾里传来了一阵声响,有人朝着泉水走下来了。我向四周看了看,发现一个五十岁左右的农民,满身都是尘土,身穿一件罩衫,脚蹬树皮鞋,背着一只柳条篓,肩上搭着一件斗篷。他下到了泉边,饱饱地喝了一顿,然后站起身来。

"Ah, Vlass! " cried Tuman, staring at him; "good health to you, friend! Where has God sent you from? "

“呀,符拉斯!” 杜曼看着他,叫了起来, “你好啊,朋友!你这是从哪儿来的呀?”

"Good health to you, Mihal Savelitch! " said the peasant, coming nearer to us; "from a long way off. "

“你好啊,米海洛•萨韦利伊奇!” 那个农民答道,说着就走到我们跟前, “从老远的地方来哩。”

"Where have you been? " Tuman asked him.

“你上哪里去了呀?” 杜曼问他。

"I have been to Moscow, to my master. "

“我去莫斯科了,去找我的主人。”

"What for? "

“为什么事啊?”

"I went to ask him a favour. "

“我去求他件事啊。”

"What about? "

“什么事啊?”

"Oh, to lessen my rent, or to let me work it out in labour, or to put me on another piece of land, or something.... My son is dead—so I can't manage it now alone.”

“哦,求他给我减点租金,要么给我改成劳役租,要么给我换到别的地区,或者……我儿子死了,所以我现在一个人忙不过来。”

"Your son is dead? "

“你儿子死了?”

"He is dead. My son, " added the peasant, after a pause, "lived in Moscow as a cabman; he paid, I must confess, rent for me. "

“他死了。我儿子,” 农民沉默了一阵,接着说道, “以前在莫斯科当马车夫,说实话,以前都是他替我交的租金。”

"Then are you now paying rent? "

“那现在你们交租金吗?”

"Yes, we pay rent. "

“对呀,我们得交租金。”

"What did your master say? "

“那你家主人说什么了?”

"What did the master say! He drove me away! Says he, 'How dare you come straight to me; there is a bailiff for such things. You ought first, ' says he, 't o apply to the bailiff... and where am I to put you on other land? You first, ' says he, 'bring the debt you owe. ' He was angry altogether.”

“主人说什么了!他把我赶出来了!他说: ‘你居然敢直接来找我,有管家料理这些事情。你应该首先,’ 他说, ‘跟管家联系……而且我该给你换到哪块土地上啊?你先,’ 他说道, ‘把欠的钱都带来。’ 他很是生气啊。”

"What then—did you come back?”

“然后呢——你就回来了?”

"I came back. I wanted to find out if my son had not left any goods of his own, but I couldn't get a straight answer. I say to his employer, 'I am Philip's father’; and he says, ' What do I know about that? And your son, 'says he, ' left nothing; he was even in debt to me. 'So I came away.”

“我就回来了。我本来想去弄清我儿子有没有留下什么东西,但是没得到直接的答复。我对他的老板说, ‘我是菲利普他爹’ ,他却说, ‘我怎么知道你是不是他爹?而且你儿子,’ 他说, ‘什么都没留下,还欠我的债呢。’ 于是我就走了。”

The peasant related all this with a smile, as though he were speaking of someone else; but tears were starting into his small, screwed—up eyes, and his lips were quivering.

这个农民微笑着讲述这一切,好像是在讲别人的事似的,可是他那双眯起的小眼睛里却噙着泪水,嘴唇也抽动着。

"Well, are you going home then now? "

“哦,那你现在要回家去吗?”

"Where can I go? Of course I 'm going home. My wife, I suppose, is pretty well starved by now.”

“我还能去哪里呀?我当然是回家去了。我想,我老婆这会儿正挨饿呢。”

"You should—then, " Styopushka said suddenly. He grew confused, was silent, and began to rummage in the worm—pot.

“你可以……那……” 斯捷普什卡突然说道。他变得窘迫起来,就沉默了,开始翻弄起了装虫子的罐子。

"And shall you go to the bailiff? " continued Tuman, looking with some amazement at Styopka.

“那你去找管家么?” 杜曼继续说,有点吃惊地看了看斯捷帕。

"What should I go to him for? —I 'm in arrears as it is. My son was ill for a year before his death; he could not pay even his own rent. But it can't hurt me; they can get nothing from me.... Yes, my friend, you can be as cunning as you please—I' m cleaned out! " (The peasant began to laugh. ) "Kintlyan Semenitch'll have to be clever if—”

“我去找他干嘛呀?我还欠着租呢。我儿子死之前病了一年,他连自己的租金都付不起。但是他们伤不了我,他们从我这里什么都得不到……对,我的朋友,你想有多狡诈就可以有多狡诈——我是没钱了!” (农民笑了起来。) “金季良•谢苗内奇必须得聪明点,要是——”

Vlass laughed again.

符拉斯又笑了起来。

"Oh! things are in a sad way, brother Vlass, " Tuman ejaculated deliberately.

“哦!这可不大好,符拉斯兄弟。” 杜曼突然谨慎地说道。

"Sad! No! " (Vlass's voice broke. ) "How hot it is! " he went on, wiping his face with his sleeve.

“不好!才不是呢!” (符拉斯的话音中断了。) “太热了!” 他继续说道,边用袖子抹脸。

"Who is your master? " I asked him.

“你家主人是谁?” 我问他。

"Count Valerian Petrovitch. "

“瓦利里安•彼得罗维奇伯爵。”

"The son of Piotr Ilitch? "

“是彼得•伊利奇的儿子吗?”

"The son of Piotr Ilitch, " replied Tuman. "Piotr Ilitch gave him Vlass's village in his lifetime.”

“是彼得•伊利奇的儿子,” 杜曼回答道, “彼得•伊利奇在世的时候就把符拉斯住的那个村子给他了。”

"Is he well? "

“他身体好吗?”

"He is well, thank God! " replied Vlass. "He has grown so red, and his face looks as though it were padded. "

“托上帝的福,他好得很!” 符拉斯答道, “他长得红润润的,脸看上去像填了东西一样。”

"You see, your honour, " continued Tuman, turning to me, "it would be very well near Moscow, but it's a different matter to pay rent here.”

“您瞧,老爷,” 杜曼转向我,继续说道, “要是住在莫斯科附近就好多了,可在这里还得交租金。”

"And what is the rent for you altogether? "

“你们的租金总共得多少?”

"Ninety—five roubles, " muttered Vlass.

“九十五卢布。” 符拉斯咕哝道。

"There, you see; and it's the least bit of land; all there is is the master's forest.”

“喏,您瞧,就那么点土地,那全是老爷家的树林。”

"And that, they say, they have sold, " observed the peasant.

“听说,这树林也被卖掉了。” 那个农民说道。

"There, you see. Styopka, give me a worm. Why, Styopka, are you asleep—eh?”

“喏,您瞧。斯捷帕,给我条虫子。咦,斯捷帕,你睡着了吗——啊?”

Styopushka started. The peasant sat down by us. We sank into silence again. On the other bank someone was singing a song—but such a mournful one. Our poor Vlass grew deeply dejected.

斯捷普什卡突然一惊。那个农民在我们旁边坐了下来。我们又陷入了沉默。在河对岸有人在唱歌,不过是一支很忧伤的歌。我们可怜的符拉斯越来越沮丧了。

Half—an—hour later we parted.

半个钟头以后,我们便分开了。

CHAPTER IV THE DISTRICT DOCTOR Be8ychhxv3wPmKu19i+gpsA1vmdWuUjlOshxZKWBgUz8dTFPuo5cGa5yC7PVE9a8

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